Verik is almost jolted out of his skin as he witnesses the outburst of Elsir Tel'ran towards Nikolai. In over two years of knowing the elven Pathfinder and Magister of Newhaven, Verik cannot think back to a single time he has seen Elsir react so angrily and forcefully, not even in battle that he can recall. He sees the look Elsir gives him as he places emphasis on the word souls, the denial of which to final Judgment by the despicable blades of the Galtan Grey Gardeners is one of the worst fates he had ever heard of. Truly, for it was one of the reasons leading to his giving of the Galtan Taxfest speech back in 4711.
The silence in the room by all attending is awkwardly jarring. Verik looks with goggled eyes to Elsir, then to Nikolai, to Willard Pharn, to Jemini, then back to Elsir. Waiting expectantly.
Willard seems to slump under Elsir's questioning, which is more effective than Nikolai's threats. "I did what I had to. I had hoped that you would be spared, Master Elsir, but I would gladly sacrifice your life for the souls of my parents. I would sacrifice all your lives, as a small price to pay. In death, you would be free to experience the afterlife. My family is trapped, and you lack the ability to undo that - unless you have the power to unmake an artifact. Do you?" He stares at them defiantly, knowing that they do not. "He spoke to me in my dreams. I've seen the power that he wields, the single eye, black as night." He drifts off for a moment with a vacant stare, recalling the power that he came into contact with.
"I cannot and will not tell you what I know of him, beyond this: surrender now. Do not make him your enemy. He is ancient and powerful beyond mortal ken. If I have any hope to be reunited with my family in the afterlife, I must merely hope that my loyalty will be rewarded. The chance that you would have the ability to acquire the Final Blade, much less discover the mechanism of release of their souls, is miniscule. Vile as my actions are in violation of loyalty to Newhaven - loyalty that I still feel, despite my treasonous actions - I must hold out the hope in the sole being capable of freeing their souls." He seems disappointed by his own actions but firm in his decision. "Torture me, execute me... I care little. I will not tell you what I know of Vordekai."
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Elsir's face grows mournful, hearing the words spill from his apprentices mouth. Throughout much of his life, Elsir had experienced sadness. First the death of his wife Ashandra through old age and then later the loss of his expedition within the Drowning Stones. Elsir had felt the scorn and derision from his fellow archivists within the Grand Lodge and other, fellow pathfinders. Other lesser elves might have allowed it to cause them to slip into forlornness, but Elsir had persevered.
It had been two years since his arrival in New Haven and like many, Elsir had hoped that it would be a new beginning. The Harborage House and his reluctant acceptance of apprentices had been one of the first steps, in what Elsir had hoped would new a new chapter in his life. Elsir had hoped for so much from the boy, but this betrayal was personal.
Apprentice, Elsir stated, his voice having returned to its cold, logical tone. You do not know the depths of my power, or what the future holds. I have viewed the threads of possibility and probability. So let me tell you what logic dictates. Holding up a finger, Elsir frowns. Now was not the time and place to lecture, but this lesson was not just for him, but everyone that watched the spectacle.
Elsir spoke the foul, cursed names with a rasp in his throat as if speaking them made him want to vomit. All liches, and none cared a scant for mortals. History tells us that they viewed mortals as nothing more as tools or pawns for their own gains. Elsir shook his head sadly. Whatever you were told in your dreams Apprentice was a lie. Vordekai will not aid you. Your misplaced actions will not be rewarded. As to making us an enemy. Elsir scoffed at the word. There is no such thing as an ally to a lich, only slave fodder as the orcs of Belkzen discovered under the yoke of the Whispering Tyrant. Elsir grew momentarily silent as if summoning his thoughts.
I will give you this final chance Apprentice Pharn, Tell us what you know with your own free will. Elsir frowned and then turned away, not wanting to see the look on the young boy's face when he spoke next.. But when he did speak, his words were as hard and cold as ice. You are my Apprentice, Willard... and my responsibility. I.. I recognize that I have failed you as a teacher. I knew about your nightmares and attributed them to your treatment by the Hag and the loss of your family. I should have acted, but I didn't and so I am partially to blame for what has happened today. I know this, but I cannot and will not allow my failure as your master to further harm my friends and the citizens of New Haven. Apprentice, I will have the information I need from you, even if I have to pluck it from your thoughts.
Willard stands in defiance of his former master, unwilling to accede to his will. He looks over at Verik, Jemini, and Nikolai instead. "I request that you execute me in light of my crimes against Newhaven, to which I swore an oath of loyalty. My actions led directly to the death of one of the mercenaries hired to investigate the disappearances of several local men, of which I am indirectly responsible. I admit my crime, though I believe that I was justified in doing so on moral grounds..." His voice breaks slightly as his nerves get the best of him. He returns his gaze to Elsir and draws another breath. "Strip my thoughts from my mind if you can. I have thrown my lot in with the lich. Bear in mind that I will resist your efforts. Once the futility of your plan is laid bear, will you execute me? I waive my right to trial and plead my guilt."
Elsir's eyes sadly fall upon his apprentice. "I will do what I must. Please sit. I cannot guarantee that this will not be unpleasant." The wizard produces a scroll that he wrote to replace the one that he used to scan Aleza's thoughts to gain insight into Hargulka. The replaced scroll its magical power bound in Elvish script, though that is a matter of his intellectual comfort rather than any arcane requirement. The elves are far from the only race with the knowledge of telepathy.
Nikolai growls with impatience. "We are wasting time. He's a pawn, you said it yourself. What we know now is that Varnhold is in dire peril now. We need to ride immediately. Leave his execution to Jellicoe to carry out." He looks to Jemini for support.
Elsir holds up a finger as he scans over his handwriting to ensure that the spell will hold. "Information is power, Nikolai. If we had known that Willard had betrayed us earlier, we might not have walked into a trap. Allow me to work. The information I uncover may save more lives than rushing to their aid."
Berrin steps forward to mediate the disagreement. "My father-in-law is out there. Information is important, but so is saving him and everyone else in Varnhold. Let's hurry it up."
"Very well," Elsir replies. He whispers an elvish incantation, summoning the words from the scroll into his mind. He looks up from the scroll to Willard, eyes probing into his and head cocked ever so slightly as if listening. Willard grimaces as Elsir digs into his mind. Elsir dips his head forward with his brow furrowed in concentration. He reaches out and grabs both sides of his apprentice's head, baring his teeth in exertion. Elsir finally takes a breath and leans back. "Nikolai, please knock him unconscious. Careful--"
Elsir hasn't even finished his warning before Nikolai bashes Willard hard against the back of the head. The wizard crumples to the ground, with Elsir helping him down to set him down gently. "Carefully. There seems to be some sort of mental block far more powerful than what he should be capable of. I tried to pass through his psychic defenses, but I detected more than I can bypass alone. I believe that I can, but it will take a moment." Elsir stands and removes a piece of chalk from his robes, taking a few minutes to draw a large circle around the room. He directs the rest of the Founders to sit at certain spots in the circle's diameter, then draws out several runic figures inside. "Verik, you said that you have prepared a truthtelling spell, correct? I detected a divine component to the protective shell around his psyche. I believe that this spell will be paramount to our efforts here, as will a spell warding us from evil in the circle, Lady Jemini. However, I will need the mental efforts from all six of us to pierce his defenses. I will lead a journey into his mind, which is why I had Nikolai knock him unconscious. Willard stated that he was contacted by dream, which is where his psychic defenses will be weakest. He may not even be aware in his waking mind what he has seen. Be warned. The dreamscape can be strange and surreal. We will be mentally connected to one another as well as to our bodies, but any danger that we deal with will be real. In a few moments, I will begin the casting that will draw us all into his mind. I want you to focus on my words."
Berrin clears his throat. "You're not going to drag us all to the future, are you? I want to spend more time with my son, but I'd rather do it the long way."
Elsir looks at him serenely. "I do not have any such plans. Does anyone else have any questions?"
"No, let us proceed." Elsir nods and points to a spot on the floor with an open hand. Borodin is quick to sit down.
He looks at the other Founders who remain standing, but mostly at Berrin who looks polaxed. "Well Berrin? Are you going to sit or just stand there wasting time? The quicker we do this the better. You to Nikolai. Then we can make for the border with all haste"
Verik regards Berrin for a moment at Borodin's question of him and the thought of being cast forth into some different dark future, then shakes it off vigorously and visibly. "I have many questions Elsir, yet none of the probable answers will aid our endeavor or ease my discomfort. In answer to your question I do have the Truthtelling prayer ready to use, but be warned that he could resist it as with most enchantments."
Taking his place at the spot prepared for him at the arcane circle, Verik makes motions to try and get comfortable as if preparing for meditation. He withdraws a tasseled curing wand from his belt and places it next to him in easy reach. "Just in case I am unable to heal you directly, those that have the aptitude may use this if you can." Further thoughts on what the circumstances might be for that cut Verik short with a discernible frown, so he simply takes a steadying breath and prepares for Elsir's next instructions, watching for the others to take their assigned places.
Seeing the willingness of his friends to waste time on games of magic, Nikolai rolls his eyes and barks to the runners accustomed to delivering orders to the military.
"Every Founder's horse ready and supplied by the time this is done. AND GET ME THAT CALISTRIAN!"
Elsir's steady voice leads the ritual with the six participants sitting in the circle and the unconscious Willard Pharn in its center. He speaks slowly and thoughtfully, keeping a pattern for them to center their thoughts upon. "Just focus on my words. Close your eyes and empty your mind of all thought. Focus on breathing in and out steadily." He whispers words in melodious Elven, somehow keeping the cadence of his diction as he casts the spell to share consciousness with the others. The others can feel a probing in their own minds as Elsir makes the psychic connections. He stops speaking as the spell completes, but they continue to hear his voice in their minds. It has an unearthly quality, as they know it is not something they are hearing with their ears. "We are of one mind now. Keep your focus. Do not allow your will to falter. Breathe in, breathe out."
As the ritual continues, the noise of the town fades away. Whispers of thought dart from one to the other - mostly from Berrin's worried and undisciplined mind. Jemini reaches out psychically to comfort him without words, quieting his thoughts. "Willard's mind is defended against defense as if by a castle. Brute force cannot and will not succeed. But we can force him to open the gates to us. Jemini, empower the circle to protect us from evil forces. Verik, cast your truth telling spell."
Verik speaks aloud in Celestial to request Abadar's aid, while Jemini simply beckons the spell with a quick prayer. The feel of sacred power flows between the connected group, where Elsir focuses it towards Willard. They can all feel the mental pressure against the man as Elsir probes and tests his defenses. They can feel it as well, like a large and imposing barrier separating his mind from theirs. The rest focus their wills even more, aiding Elsir as he presses in. The divine spells cause the mental barrier to resonate, and they can feel that the bastion was built with both arcane and divine magic. Elsir presses into that wall, looking for the opening that Verik's spell must have opened. They can all feel it when he finds it, pushing on it with focused intensity, and feel a pop as they break through to the other side.
Total silence - even from the thoughts of the others - settles upon the circle. Each of them focuses on their breathing again, hoping that the connection wasn't severed. Berrin is the first to open his eyes to see that they are still all inside the circle. "Well? Did it work? Why aren't we somewhere else?"
A voice from outside the circle floats through the silence. "Are you in grave danger, you mean to ask? Have you entered the world of dreams? Are you awake or asleep? This is a question that you must answer yourself. Were you asleep and are now awake? Did you wake from a dream to discover you are still in a dream?" Stepping into the circle is a familiar face, dressed in the same simple traveling clothes with charred bone fetishes hanging from her belt. Her golden hair catches the light, though a sadness in her eyes belies the smile on her face. Tandlara Esirrian, asleep for years, stands before all of them.
"Well? Did it work? Why aren't we somewhere else?" Borodin hears Berrin with his ears and not his mind. He can tell something has changed but doesn’t know exactly what. This is Elsir and Verik’s specialty and he never had the aptitude for it. He slowly opens his eyes and is surprised to see Tandlara stepping into the circle. He had never met her, but had watched her silent still breathing a few times when he was with Jemini or Verik, checking on her in the castle.
She asks her questions with an enchanting but melancholy smile and Borodin has trouble juxtaposing the fact that she should be asleep in Newhaven not standing here before them. Were they still asleep? Possibly, but he can see Berrin getting ready to stand.
His eyes drift back to Tandlara and is about to speak. But the Elf’s waking beauty causes his question to die in his throat. He looks back to the other Founders sitting in the circle, then back up to Elsir, not sure of what to do.
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"Well? Did it work? Why aren't we somewhere else?" The words broke the silence and then drifted off into the distance. Elsir opened his eyes yet remained focused on his breathing. He felt his body fill with a deep breath before he concentrated on tensing and flexing first his toes, then legs, chest then shoulders until finally he had quickly, yet effectively taken stock of both his body and the ocular and auditory sensations that he was experiencing.
Abruptly a voice uttered a reply. "Are you in grave danger, you mean to ask? Have you entered the world of dreams? Are you awake or asleep? This is a question that you must answer yourself. Were you asleep and are now awake? Did you wake from a dream to discover you are still in a dream?" Elsir blinked once then and cocked his head to the right before smiling softly as Tandlara Esirrian stepped into the circle.
Taking a deep breath, Elsir considered the facts at hand, coupled with his knowledge of magic and the planes. Willard was contacted via his dreams and it was postulated that his defenses there would have been the weakest. Via the ritual that combined the arcane and divine magic of Elsir and Verik and coupled with the mentally shielding ward of Lady Jemini, the intent been to enter into Willard's dreamscape. The Dimension of Dreams was a catalogued and known demiplane that was created and maintained directly by the dreams of mortal sleepers on the material plane. Furthermore there were some, rarely gifted elves who possessed the inborn ability to become Dreamspeakers and tap into the power of sleep and dreams. Introspectively Elsir frowned in concentration, mulling over the facts and postulations at hand, before his mind settled on the most likely theory.
Finally, after what amounted to handful a seconds, Elsir blinked again and inclined his head in a greeting. "Tandlara, I am unsure if you have been able to hear my voice during the times I have visited you over the last few years. If you have not, let me apologize and make a formal introduction. I am Elsir Tel'ran. Turning to the others, Elsir swept hit hand out to the others. I believe the combined ritual was successful, inasmuch as we had hoped. I believe we have entered into Willard's dreamscape, lucidly. Furthermore, I suspect that we are on the outskirts of the demiplane known as the Dimension of Dreams." Frowning slightly, Elsir waved a hand around him so that the others could take in the space that they now inhabited. The angles and walls seemed slightly off kilter. One corner of the room met in ninety degrees while another at eight-five and a third at one-hundred and five yet the room, somehow still existed, despite the fact that geometry should not allow it to be so.
"In a way it makes sense that we should encounter you here." Elsir gestured to Tandlara. "Though in none of my visions could I have forseen it." Running an eye along the unnatural lines of the room, Elsir felt a headache begin to build behind his eyes and he had to force himself to look away. "Unless of course you’re a phantasm, brought to life by our collective imagination. Elsir paused for a moment, considering the statement. "But that's probably not the case.. probably."
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"By the Light..." stammers Verik as he yearns to move from his place in the circle, yet stays where he is for fear that he may do something inadvertently to disrupt the combined and complex magical efforts that have brought them to this place of dreams. "Tandlara!" In a very uncharacteristic display of emotion, Verik chokes back sobs and wipes tears from his face with his gloved hands. "Ahh cogs! I'm sorry - sobbing like an initiate on his first night away from home I am, but I suppose you won't hold that against me. Tandlara? Are you...you're here but this cannot be what you desire, when your true form is still back in Sanctuary! Can you not return? Are you lost? What did we not do to aid you properly for all of these years?"
Tandlara smiles softly at Verik. "How long has it been for you? I visit you all often in your dreams, though you may only recall it as a fleeting memory. I have found that speaking to friends has salved the wound of my absence - or that my own mental figments summons meaningful simulacra as a form of internal dialogue. Have you considered that you might be figments of my imagination? Tell me, what year is it? I lose track of the time so easily, and time is more fluid here in dreams. What may seem to be a day in a dream might be a flick of an eye in the real world. I have duties to attend to, of which a body would be a hindrance." She frowns and glances at Elsir. "Unless, of course, I am a mere figment of your thought, or perhaps all of us are no more than thoughts in someone else's mind. I suppose I have thought it once or twice in the many years that I have been walking through the dreams of men. You have posited the question to me before, as this is not our first time to speak in your dreams. I have taken it upon myself to learn about the friends of my sweet ducklings. Verik, you might be interested to know what your new friend Aleza dreams about with you. I should tell you, as I have missed seeing you blush!"
"And you know something about the vagaries of time, do you not?" Suddenly, she is speaking to Borodin. "I have seen you in the dreams of the others, but I cannot walk in your dreams. Elsir believes that your dreams may remain in your native time, though this dream seems to place a fly in that ointment, does it not?"
She then turns her attention to Jemini and Berrin. She reaches out to embrace them fondly. "My sweetlings, how I have missed you. As you are fully inside the Dimension of Dreams, it will be nice that you remember our conversations this time." She focuses entirely on Berrin, who seems shocked at her presence. "My congratulations regarding your son. I have delved into the simple, sweet dreams of your child, whispering to him of your love. You changed in the blink of an eye. One moment, you were a brute with simpler thoughts than your child; the next, a husband and a father animated by love. And you, Jemini... You shall never change, my dear one, but that is what I adore about you."
Her eyes fall upon Nikolai and narrow. "Stag Lord," she greets with grim teeth. "How are your eyes?" As she speaks, part of the wall peels away. A gauzy image appears: the Stag Lord battling with Berrin and Taisper, with Corwin and Jemini laying dying and dead at his feet. Tandlara falls to the ground in grief and rage, summoning dark magic in revenge. Nikolai's eyes start to bleed a black, viscous liquid as he gazes upon the moments leading up to his first death - and then both the vision and the ichor are gone in a flash of smoke. "Be careful," Tandlara warns as the vision fades. "Your thoughts have great power in dreams. Guard them carefully."
At seeing the phantasm of the Stag Lord’s final stand, Borodin grasps his own throat. His mind flashes back, reliving his own death before being brought back to this time. He puts his hand down once he realizes what he is doing and looks back to Tandlara, then to the others. His eyes settle on Nikolai for a moment and Borodin wonders if he is truly capable of betraying his friends once more. He looks back to Tandlara hopefully before anyone notices him staring.
Again he feels out of place, useless, without value. Since he has nothing to add to the conversation, he simply waits.
Verik's cheeks heat up at the mere thought of Tandlara's insinuation, though the potential embarrassment of such does not diminish his joy at seeing her alive once again. Even if 'alive' is in this so-called Dimension of Dreams she refers to. Yet the joy fades from his face as he witnesses the scene of Stagfall in those final moments, something he had never had the opportunity to witness first-hand before. So that is what it was from the eyes of dear Tandlara, and how she rivaled hate with hate...the source of my great shame at abandoning them in their time of need...I came too late then and vowed it would never be repeated by my own choice...
He shakes his head slightly as the vision fades, clears his throat delicately and looks to Tandlara directly then. "Indeed it seems so, but also there is power in names also, Tandlara. In our time the Stag Lord has been dead four years from that day - truly and surely I have seen the change and would vouch under the Key that brought us here. This is Nikolai Rogarvia, now."
"He is the same man with a different name," Tandlara retorts to Verik. "There are many reasons I avoid stepping in his dreams. You may trust him, but I merely tolerate his presence when required. You may have forgotten and forgave the swing that felled Corwin and the thrust that slew Jemini, but I have not."
With a little yelp that she quickly stifles, Jemini finally breaks the shocked rictus that had transfixed her. A whisper, that carried even louder for its softness in the Dimension of Dreams - "You were real? Really real? Inside my dreams? I...", tears well in her eyes, "I never could find solace with you in my dreams; I thought of you as wishful thinking. I... Nikolai... that thrust...". Tears roll down Jemini's left and right cheeks, one hand before her mouth another on her belly. "I need to talk with you, your help... come back..."
Even with Jemini talking, the shock is still obvious. For the moment at least the recent horror and revelations entirely displaced from her mind. Only Tandlara occupies it.
"...please..."
Tandlara snaps out of her vengeful tirade against Nikolai to listen to Jemini's whispered plea. "I must remain here, my little bird. I have duties to attend to, duties that I agreed upon long ago. When I am done, I will return. Now, we must move along." Tandlara steps forward towards one of the walls of the garrison, which melts away like rain. She beckons for them to follow her into the dream.
A path through a forest appears before them, coming straight through the garrison wall. As they cross the threshold into the summery forest - a lush set of tall pines - they look back to find the garrison gone. "You will find that you have great power to influence the world of dreams. If you believe something strong enough here, you can make it so. Some mortals find it difficult to leave and return to a place where they cannot affect the very fabric of reality. That said, it will often change without your knowledge or desire if you do not directly observe it - and oftentimes beliefs can be warped by the dream into a nightmare." The forest turns even more vivid as they walk through it, almost to the point that they have to avert their eyes. Birds chirp and tweet in the canopy, but not one of them can be seen. "You must be aware that you are in danger here, even though your body is safe. Should your avatar be killed in this dream world, your body will likely not survive the shock. Please do be careful," she warns. As they walk, the sky roils between blue, gray, black, and orange.
A great howling arises from all directions as a full moon appears in the now-night sky. "Hmm," Tandlara grimaces. "That's not good." The howling seems to be an eerie echo, without beginning or end, with a subtle and menacing hiss. The sound seems neither close by nor far away. "Probably for the best that we hurry."
"Why? Do you know what it is?"
"I don't know. But it can't be good."
"Well then let us do as Tandlara suggests, and put our minds only to the task that we came for. Letting ourselves wander or dwell idly on what might be here will cause greater issue."
Verik looks around at the path through the idyllic forest and the moon-filled night sky above. "The path...yes the path. Perhaps I should like a cobblestone street but this will suffice. Let us all focus on the path to bring us to where we need to go."
Nikolai bristles visibly at the notion of being spoken to as if he were not in the room. In the dream, he corrects himself. He doesn't know this Tandlara but by the briefest mention, so he lets his friends carry the conversation.
Briefly, he considers her warning about changing the dream. He could try to force Jemini to confess any feelings for him, or he could will this lich into their presence and go to battle straightaway.
But the purpose of the dream was to take information from the boy, and not to cheat fate or make things worse.
The big man draws Dragonsbreath in response to the howls, and otherwise keeps quiet.
"Whatever caused that sound, the howls, is it something we should move toward or away from? Is it guarding what we seek? Or is it something like a predator in the world of dreams? Something like a nightmare perhaps?"
Nikolai spits. "I fear no nightmares. Lucky for those howlers if I don't release a few of my own."
"Think instead of a poem...or saucy tune if you prefer, or even a recitation of something you enjoy. Repeat that to yourself, over and over again while we walk this path!"
The Dragonlord turns his head slowly to face Verik while the priest speaks. He raises a mocking eyebrow.
"We know you fear no nightmares Nikolai. Since you somewhat resemble one during battle if I don't say so myself." Borodin chuckles a little at that but continues. "Verik makes a good point though. If we can influence this place by our thoughts, it would stand to reason that positive thoughts would have positive reactions." Borodin follows along as they all walk the path set forth.
"I have a question though. Since we're all in a dreamscape, does everyone see the same "path"?
A dark thunderous cloud rolls over the dark sky so quickly that it seems almost surreal. The howling continues in the distance - though it might be coming closer. The howls and thunder combine into an ominous symphony. "This young man's mind will erect defenses. Normally, they would be as simple to overcome with stout willpower - but I suspect you know that his mind has been augmented. Vordekai has reached him in his dreams. I felt the lich's malign influence when I began my own slumber, and felt it grow nightly since. His mind reaches out and touches all dreamers for hundreds of miles. For most, it is hardly more than a nudge, an occasional nightmare or a fleeting fright upon waking. For him, it was much more. It would take little power for a being of Vordekai's psychic strength to press in, tempt him with power or insecurities. But such influence leaves scars, intentional and otherwise, that make it difficult for us to now explore his thoughts and dreams." Tandlara crinkles her nose and seemingly licks at the air as rain begins to fall from above. "Vordekai's power leaves a taint. I can feel it in the Dimension of Dreams - which is why I found myself drawn to Elsir's casting of dream magic."
The rain is neither cold nor uncomfortable - it is actually quite warm. The rain hits the grass below their feet, steaming slightly as it continues. "We must have reached the outskirts of his psyche. Be prepared. His mind's defenses will begin to be a danger here." As if called forth by her warning, the rain turns red and begins to stream down their faces - blood falling from the dream's sky. "If you have any spells to cast to prepare yourselves, now would be the ideal time."
Casts Mirror Image
Borodin looks around but the falling blood blinds him momentarily. Heeding Tandlara's warning he summons his arcane power. With a few syllables and gestures five images of Borodin spring forth from nothingness.
Verik looks around apprehensively, trying to wipe the blood away from his eyes and off the golden key shield that he readies in anticipation. "Cogs and wheels, gears and springs..." The rest he mutters mostly to himself, putting his efforts into swiping off the front of the shield and willing the power of Abadar's blessing into being around them.
In spite of the situation, Jemini looks at Verik quizzically. "Saucy tune, yes? Perhaps a jingle you might hear in one of Calistria's pleasure parlors, yes?" She twirls a finger and bops her head in imitation, "ooo-a and then she ooo-a holds on to youu-a, never knew it truee-a then when she takes you-oo-oo-oo-ooo-a - you know it is catchy, but still. A saucy tune?"
The howling grows louder, unless it's actually the bizarre combination of his friends' rote insanity. While Jemini risks a few words of a generally baudy tune, Verik begins some song that seems to give him comfort.
Nikolai considers joining the howlers just to drown them out, but instead steps into a defensive stance and waits to see the beasts ahead.
Elsir gazes up into the night sky of the dream. "I can't say as to what the source of the howls might be, but it seems that we are being followed. I suspect that the flying creatures above us are nightgaunts - creatures literally born in nightmares. Take care not to let them pick you up and drop you." He summons magical energy at Tandlara's warning to create a force barrier around his body to protect from injury. "Here they come. They can sense dreamers such as us. Oh, and avoid their tails."
With the eyes of the group trained on the sky and the swooping flock of nightmarish creatures, two dream stalkers take the opportunity to strike. With a gurgling howl that sounds like it comes from ragged throats of the insane, two hound-like creatures shimmer into sight from opposite directions. Time seems to dilate as they appear, slowing for the dreaming Founders. The howling creatures move in a jagged, otherworldly fashion as if they can only be seen in the corner of one's eye. Berrin and Borodin both feel their bodies slow dramatically, as often happens in dreams, as the hounds open their bizarre maws. The rest of them shake off the sensation, moving their normal speed even as the pair of nightmares dart to flank them. Merely looking at the creatures is enough to feel reality itself rending apart, starting with one's eyes.
Elsir averts his eyes away from the Hounds, but he begins to feel its pull immediately. With two of them, closing one's eyes is the only sure way to avoid glancing at least one, but that would be a disastrous choice. He grimaces in pain as he feels body slip away from reality, but he shouts out in defiance. "This realm is under my power, beasts! Begone!" He can feel the pain slip away as he gains control over the cracks in reality, giving him an opening to launch a spell back at one of the creatures. If he had not spent his haste spell back in the cavern of the mohrg, he would likely cast the spell now to take away their advantage of speed - instead, he has the ability to take away the bizarre Hound's sight and its apparent ability to turn invisible. A cloud of gold bursts above the head of one of them - the one he isn't looking at, by chance. The Hound screeches as it is blinded by the dust, helping Elsir's compatriots by halving the number of the bizarre creatures to avoid looking at.
The Hounds are not all that threaten the group, however. The flock of nightgaunts swoop down with a terrible screech. Five of them in all, they descend onto the chaotic scene of the melee. They are just as nightmarish as the Hounds, though in a quite different way. They look like gaunt devils with a spined tail and batlike wings, but their worst feature is what they lack. They have no eyes, mouth, nose, or any features other than horns on their smooth heads - yet they move as if they can still see their prey. They crash into the group, slashing with their claws and tails. They can't get purchase on the heavy armor of Jemini, Berrin, or Verik - and one of them tries to grab one of the illusory copies of Borodin. Only Nikolai is grabbed by one of the evil beings, which slashes at him and grabs him tightly, then thrusts his long tail into Nikolai's stomach in a sickening and bizarre tickle.
Abruptly her tune stops as the dream hound's rabid gaze literally tears holes into Jemini's dream appearance. Almost immediately silvery light bursts forth through the tears - a prayer springs to Jemini's mind and the tears rapidly recede back into the original state. The paladin takes a good hard look at the nightgaunts that descended upon them, then suddenly begins to smile. "If you take a good hard look at them, they are kind of adorable. Look at those little horns, on those little heads."
Borodin is still wiping blood from his eyes as the Hounds and Nightguants close in. He can feel the closest flying adversary brush by as it destroys one of his images.
Borodin is unable to avert his eyes and meets the gaze of the hound. While he manages to avoid the ripping affects, it does unnerve him and he is unable to find his mark.
A frowning Verik has his mouth open to speak in retort to Jemini’s jaunty tune about Calistrian “favors” when Elsir interrupts him. Soon enough the hounds arrive, followed by the nightgaunts’ attack. Verik wants to further ward the Founders against the onslaught, but the nightgaunts are everywhere around him and he finds himself in a bitter struggle. As he looks around to his companions to see who is beset upon by the nightgaunts, he inadvertently catches the terrible gaze of the first hound over past Tandlara.
"GAHHhhh..." Though he cries out in pain, somewhere in his training over the years he feels an inner strength that most of his kind lack in steeled resolve, something he once only thought his cousin Tasiper had mastery of. Verik clenches his jaw and shrugs off the rending of his very being in this foreboding place, willing himself to draw his blade and strike down the enemy next to him.
Drawing his elvish longsword with a practiced, fluid motion, he summons the power of Abadar’s channeled energy into the blade, igniting it with a silvery-gray flame that shines pure and true. With an overhand slash he cuts into the nightgaunt before him, gashing its wing and slicing into its back.
Wounds open across Nikolai's exposed flesh, forcing a startled growl from the barbarian. The nightgaunt grabs his sword arms and pulls mightily, trying to lift Nikolai off the ground or at least wrest the flaming blade from him.
A combination of pain and paranoia play havoc with his stomach, but he fights off the nausea and glowers at the winged creature.
Best you wake up before this dream turns on you.
"Great job, Jem!" Berrin has his sword drawn and ready to strike down the nightmare beasts. He raises it to strike one of the nightgaunts - now looking like oversized imps - but he gets a gleam in his eye. "Let me try. Doesn't look that hard. I've always wanted to have one of those waking dreams. Let's have this one go back to where it came from!" He points at the Hound of Tindalos that hasn't been blinded, then furrows his brow in concentration. Quickly, he starts to fade away into a misty invisibility, perhaps influenced by Nikolai's quip. "Oh, damn--" Within seconds, he has faded away and out of the dream.
Tandlara clears her throat at the disappeared Berrin. "Don't worry," she tells the others. "It's a common mistake. He tried too hard and woke himself up. Now slay these creatures!"
The pair of otherwordly hounds circle the group as the nightgaunts swoop down upon them. They twitch and move incredibly quickly with unearthly rapidity that seems to defy physics. The one blasted by Elsir's magic does little but shake what passes for its head, twisting it around almost entirely as it re-establishes its reality-shredding gaze upon the members of the group. The other one rushes towards Jemini in jagged steps, lashing out to bite at her. She steps out of one of the attacks, using her precognition to avoid its maw - but the rest of its biting and slashing assaults come in ways that don't make sense. Each one seems to come from a different direction, confusing her greatly as it cuts and slashes at her.
Elsir fixes his eyes past the nightmare beast presently shaking off the effects of his spell. A quick glance locks his eyes against the Hound's, and Elsir feels his skin beginning to burst against the horror of the creature. He grits his teeth and keeps it together as he did the first time, not letting the dream reality dictate injuries to him. He speaks a few words in Elven and lets loose a flaming bead that blossoms into a physical fire a few dozen feet beyond the Hound. The fireball envelops them and grows to a sun-like orb of flame that does not die out as he expects. One of the nightgaunts - the one injured by Verik's elven blade, he notes as an appropriate choice to dispatch a monster of dreams - screeches as it dies. The rest move in the bizarre fashion of dreams, avoiding the worst of the injury. The orb of flame pulses and spits out little gouts of flame as it burns away the ground of the dreamscape. Elsir takes several steps back to avoid the unpredictable orb and to stay a bit farther away from the creatures.
The remaining nightgaunts - now down one of their numbers with Verik's assault and Elsir's flames - screech as they try to swarm the Founders. One of them darts out of the flames with its skin melting off horrifically, but it slashes at Nikolai nonetheless. Its sharp claws grab onto Nikolai as the small nightgaunt lands on him and begins to pull him upward. The rest of them attack with little effectiveness - one hits only an illusion of Borodin, while the others run into Verik's full plate and Jemini's extraordinary ability to avoid attacks.
SWA: Arcane Strike
SA: Attack Nightgaunt #2
As Elsir's fireball explodes, Borodin looks around to maintain his bearings on his friends. He notices that the fire does not dissipate like usual. When he glances up he is dismayed to see that the second hound is staring right at him. Again, he manages to resist the nightmarish ripping.
He regains his composure and attacks the closest nightgaunt but the creature is too quick for him in his slowed state.
The dream hound mauls Jemini with claws and teeth, rendering her a bloody mess - but again silver light bursts from all the wounds as they are inflicted and to a large extend they close nearly as quickly as they are formed. The paladin carries herself as a bulwark, shrugging of the wounds as if they were but a trifle. With a little flick she hurls her longsword into the air spinning, then catches it upside down, her hand holds the sword as an assassin might hold a dagger. Although the grip is not practical for most forms of sword play, it enables her to swish the blade in a horizontal "8" shape. The blade's shimmer leaves a remnant glow and with a downward thrust that pierces the sword into the ground the glowing shape suddenly explodes outward in a almost blinding display of holy energies.
"Stop...DOING THAT!" Verik's retort and snarl at the fireball-afflicted Hound is not very menacing, but it seems to give Verik the resolve to hold himself together and not succumb to its terrible rending effects. Moving himself to be closer to the fearsome Hound assaulting Jemini and with shield at the ready, Verik feints a high jab at his next nightgaunt foe, only to sweep his elvish blade around behind the cover of his shield and bring it in a slashing arc against the enemy's side. The ruse works beautifully as Verik satisfyingly slashes into the neck of the nightgaunt, nearly lopping its head off and sending it reeling.
Frustrated by the surreal attack and the disappearance of Berrin, Nikolai curls his lip. Noting that intense emotion woke his friend in the real world, he tries to direct his anger by looking only at the nightgaunt.
It's possible his dream state is helped by the eruption of claws from his own hands. The gift of Choral's abuse, the claws should not come from his human hands. The unreal quality of the transmutation solidifies his place in the dream for now, as the big man lashes out at the claw holding his arm.
With one set of claws, Nikolai carves deep tears in the gaunt's arm, and with the other, he slashes holes in the gaunt's wings. The thing flutters a bit, bleeding shadows and ichor, before collapsing to the ground.
The barbarian looks at the other gaunts and the hounds, and sneers.
As Jemini heals her wounds as fast as they open up on her body thanks to the reality-rending glare of the Hounds, they simply stop opening as her willpower and strength overpowers the dreaming urges of her body to shred itself to bits. Nikolai struggles with the demand, distracted as he is by tearing one of the nightgaunts to shreds himself. Blood seeps from his flesh as he seems to tear from every joint, and blood streams out of his eyes and ears even as he turns his attention to the Hounds themselves.
The living nightmares seem unfazed by Jemini's show of force, as if wholly unable to comprehend mortal fear. They do seem to quickly realize that her tenacity in battle stems from her ability to course divine energy through her own body to heal her wounds. They set upon her as a pack of two. The first moves laterally in a bizarre combination of a crab-like skitter and a roll while the second zooms around Verik to reach her from a different angle. The pair bite and claw at her, trying to bring her to the ground before she can heal her wounds. Focused as she is on the first Hound as it glibly rends her flesh with its maw that seems to come at her from every inexplicable angle, she doesn't see the second one leap on her from behind. She cries out as it digs its teeth into her back, dragging her to the blood-soaked ground.
Elsir takes another few steps back and mentally catalogs his options. His most potent spells would have little effect - opening an otherdimensional pit would do little to dissuade creatures that do not bow to the laws of physics, and his allies are too interspersed with the pair of hounds to summon tentacles to ensnare them. He may be able to assist with a force spell, but it will take a few moments of focus - amidst this chaos - to reacquire the spell in his mind's eye. He begins the focusing ritual by keying in on the small peal sphere in his spell component pouch, gathering the latent magical energy and re-writing his own brain with the proper spellcasting connections.
The fireball spurts gouts of flame out at the group, making no mind of friend or foe of its creator. Verik can't move out of the way, hindered rather than protected this time by his heavy plate armor. The fire makes him step back and raise his shield up to protect himself until it stops, but Verik can still feel the heat licking at his skin. A second blast of fire from the flaming sphere launches towards Nikolai, but he bats it down with his flaming sword and roars in defiance.
The nightgaunts shriek in fear despite having no mouths. To them, Jemini must be a nightmare - radiant, pure, and intent on their utter destruction. With more than half of their pack burned, slashed, or shredded, the surviving pair realize that they cannot hope to carry off any of the warriors here - especially not with a blazing ball of fire that may scorch them at any moment. They gather their wings and start to flap upwards - only to hesitate when they see the Hounds drop Jemini to the ground. Sensing an opening, they both lunge at Borodin - probably seeking to rip away his illusory doubles so that they can focus on him, as the least-armored enemy not able to summon huge balls of fiery death. They tear one of the illusions down, but he is too quick to let their claws, slowed by fear and their small stature, to cut his flesh.
Borodin sees the Hounds bring Jemini to the ground. ”No! You shall not touch her again foul beasts!” He is ready to close but the Nightgaunts return to harass him once more. He strikes out at the one on his left and strikes a vicious blow from clavicle to hip. The thing shrieks back at him but does not fall….
Though he has his silvery-fire elvish blade in hand and is ready to assist Borodin in striking down the fourth nightgaunt, Verik knows that Jemini is only moments from being torn out of this dream dimension...or perhaps far worse than that. With no room to maneuver and the flames threatening to overtake him, he nevertheless checks his attack and brings blade to shield with a distinctive ring. White light emanates from both blade and shield, washing out across the dreamscape in a crude attempt to heal their wounds. Though he tries to twist the energy around his foes, he can only avoid the nightgaunt that Borodin struck as well as two of the three fallen near the flames. He only hopes that the one halfway in the perpetual fireball is too far gone to be restored by his channeling.
Unfortunately, the wave of energy is as paltry as it was in the ghoul's cavern underneath the graveyard, the force of his channeling marred by the foul conditions of blood, fire and night they find themselves in. "Elsir! Elsir why are you standing there when Jemini is hurt so? Bring your power to bear against these hounds man!"
Jemini's collapse turns the vision-quest into a real nightmare for Nikolai. He spits blood on the corpse of the felled nightgaunt and steps between the two others, closer to Jemini. Verik's bold demonstraiton of his faith soothes him little, as the hounds tear into his savior and the elven wizard stands by motionless.
I told them this was a waste. He'll hear me when I tell him again.
He switches his sword hands back and forth, gripping the pommel despite his dark red claws. When Borodin lashes out at his own gaunt, Nikolai hacks its wings clean off. Hearing the one behind him move to get away, the big man spins and cuts upwards. Dragonsbreath burns through the monster's midsection and splits it in two.
Nikolai levels his eyes at one of the hounds, as the barely visible souls of slain dragons and men swirl about him.
"Come at me, demon. Earn your place in Hell."
Really now... if only... if... only... why... not... Jemini furrows her brows then suddenly startles the fight by laughing. "I think every little kid has had this kind of dream at least once," followed by a chortle and a blush. "You know... make things so that they are paradise. Like make broccoli taste like candy. Or a spanking just feel like a tickle."
With Jemini's inventive power over dreams depriving them of their dangerous claws and teeth - now glowing with holy energy - the pair of Hounds shriek in anger and rage. They skitter about inhumanly before leaping into the air and disappearing in a swirl of nothingness. Their howls of anger echo through the dream even as they flee through the space between dimensions.
Even with the Hounds disappeared and the nightgaunts dead on the ground, the danger is not over. Elsir's fireball continues to spit flames at them. The first hits Jemini squarely in the chest, streaming over her until she can bring up her sword to absorb the flames. Seconds later, a massive spike of fire taller than a man bursts out of the burning sphere and envelops Nikolai. For a moment, it seems as if he will be incinerated in the fire - but the fire washes over him as he brings his dragonscale cloak up to protect his face from the flames. Elsir shouts to them, "Get far away! It won't be able to shoot flames at you from a great distance!" The five of them - and Tandlara, who simply watched impassively as they were all attacked - rush away from the fireball to ensure their safety. It continues to spurt gouts of flame in their direction, but they dissipate in the air before they cross the distance.
Jemini looks over her bruised and disheveled body. "Well... that could've gone better, but it was also strangely exhilarating. I think I like this dream place."
Bleeding and irritated, Nikolai moves immediately to the elven wizard, shoving him backwards as the two move away from the ball of fire.
Spells are fine. But when people are dying, pull a dagger and show some courage. If I ever see you standing there like your idiot apprentice while fighters are going down I will count you among the enemy. Think in your tower, and fight in the field, elf."