Bolstered by Xiddik's rousingly discordant tune, Fíriel attempts her spell again!
Were-Njord thunders forward to aid the trapped elf. With a ursine grunt he slams his undersized weapon into the otherworldly horror's barbed appendage.
Through the tear in reality the monster wails in anger as it finds itself irresistibly repelled by Firiel's spell. It gives Jametor one final weak squeeze before it drops him and its massive tentacle is violently yanked back into whatever dark realm it hungers from.
Several seconds pass but there's no additional sign of the monster. For now.
"Jametor, are you all right? We need to break the glyph before it returns!" Turning to the glyph, Randall studies it to see if he can deface it somehow. "There is some kind of link between it and probably that thing. I don't know if I can disrupt it. Should I try?"
"Fine? no, but I believe I will live, but a few wand charges are going to get used I am afraid." Jametor says as he begins to study the glyph again.
Asht'el shrugs nonchalantly and says, "Well, that was easy." Noticing Jametor's discomfort, he adds, "Mostly."
Looking around, he says, "Time to destroy the thingy, right?"
As with the first glyph, Randall detects another trap-like defensive measure built into the powerful magical beacon. Whatever it is it's less obvious than the torrents of lightning called down by the own drawn into the Weeping Cliffs.
Jametor is still unable to read the alien text inscribed within the glyph but he is able to narrow down how to disable it cleanly after some study. The magic of this glyph flows through it like blood through a beating heart. It can be disrupted with a touch and a simple act of will by one with a deep understanding of such things.
"I'm not understanding the actual trap, but I think I have found the trigger. I think I can prevent the trap from triggering, but that does not do anything to remove the glyph. Should I try, anyway? You might want to move back."
.
.
Xiddik nods uncertainly. "Yes, try. What could go wrong?"
Though he can't help but roll his eyes a little at a crack team of powerful adventurers relying on a hedgehog to undo world-threatening magic forces, Asht'el does what he can to help.
"You can do it little guy," he says, managing to sound surprisingly genuine as he casts a glance at Randall, clearly wondering if perhaps the slightly less small member of the party might have been the better choice to resolve this problem.
Randall shrugs, He's as important as anyone here. Come on, Prickles, you can do this! Focus!
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...the glyph is filled with life and must be tampered with by an expert healer in order to deactivate it. As a full round action, a character adjacent to the glyph may attempt a DC 30 Heal check to divert the flow of life through its runes.
With some magical/musical aid from Xiddic and more mundane pointers from the rest of the party, Prickles waddles his way across the enormous glowing rune massaging the pulsing magic within. After a long tense moment, the rune's intense glow begins to fade until it's almost entirely dark. The purple glow returns a second later but coming from Prickles himself. As the last of the glyph's magic dies, a ribbon of energy arches high into the sky and due north.
Dr. Prickles squeaks proudly as he's suffused by the purplish glow.
Xiddik watches the fearsome spinebeast as it easily rips apart the ancient magical protections. She looks at Firiel, then at the ribbon of energy, then at Jametor. "Maybe we should head back for the sleep," Xiddik says. "Have you still got a teleport left, Jametor?"
Jametor nods. "I can get us back to the shrine without problem. I'll need to relearn some greater teleports to get us to the next glyph though and I still need to heal the damage that beast did."
"I'll never really understand how your memory is so bad compared to the rest of the elves I've met," comments Fíriel offhandedly. Before Jametor can reply, she adds, "I don't mean any offense, is just that you don't see me or Ash forgetting how to call the magic. Isn't doing something more than once supposed to help you remember how to do it even better? It seems like it you could figure out some memory tricks or something, you'd be... really, really powerful."
"That just how wizards work," Xiddik says cheerfully. "They put so much energy into cramming scribbles in their brains, they've got no will to hold onto the...framing? Framing. Me, I have the music running in my head always. Makes it much more easy."
Jametor shrugs and waits for the group to decide if they are moving...normally or magically.
Randall has absolutely nothing to contribute to a discussion of using magic, so he doesn't, ruminating on how nice it is to have toys with magical properties even if he has none himself.
"Let's head back to the shrine and get some rest", Njord suggests as the last vestiges of his furry transformation melts away. "I'd say we made good progress on avertin' the apocalypse for the day."
Jametor begins the incantations needed to create the teleport spell, weaving together the components and gestures. Right before he finishes he grabs Njord's hand who should be holding the next member of the group..and the group is teleported back to the shrine.
Not averse to a little time to rest, Asht'el agrees to Njord's suggestion, trying to position himself in the teleport line so he doesn't end up holding a hedgehog's prickly paw.
The party reappears with a *pop* near the entrance to the Shrine of Bound Earth. Inside their host watches dutifully the detailed earthen map she conjured earlier for the party's benefit.
"You've been busy", she concludes as the party enters with some a little worse for wear. "But whatever you're doing is working. The earth tells me the dark elves have begun mobilizing at the southern end of the Caltherium - no doubt to reinforce the remaining glyphs. The fight will only become more dangerous from here. How heavily were the first two guarded? And what happened to your hedgehog?"
Jametor rubs his temple a bit as he wearily finds a seat. "No dark elves there but the glyph itself can have pretty strong defense. We ran..well I ran into that Abyssal Harvester that is not just a rumor. Thanks to Firiel she sent it back and the Hedgepig was able to disable the glyph..that's what happened to him." Jametor says, slumping a little.
"Who has that healing wand, might want to get the healing started.
Asht'el pulls one of his healing wands from his belt pouch and taps Jametor with it, glad to have avoided damage himself.
"I do not understand this thing," Xiddik says, when offered the wand of restoration. "None of the magic in it sings. A strong will is needed, I think, to overrun it. Personality is, I think, the word?" She looks up at Ash't and Firiel with appraising looks.
"Here, I think I know how it works..."
Haiten the shaitan leads the party to a large chamber sparsely decorated but well-furnished chamber lined with thick cushions and plush furs. Seasoned by their weeks as drow servants, not even the unnatural sounds of Darklands flora and fauna is enough to keep the heroes from getting their much needed rest. Despite the hostile environs surrounding them, the host of the Shrine of Bound Earth makes good on her promise and the time passes without incident until the party wakes hours later fully rested.
"So, what next?" Xiddik asks. The kobold hasn't slept much, and seems to have been occupied scribbling in her notebook and fiddling with the ocarina. Her tone is brusque and snippy. "Another bloody scrape? Maybe we finally meet some drow." Her tail scrapes its blade against the stone floor.