Lyra looked up from her book at Moira at the questions before turning back to gaze at the shattered corpse of the undead monstrosity. "Likely. As long as these pillars are still standing they are connected to the beast. Most likely it will begin to regenerate though I'm not sure when or how quickly. And no, the trolls didn't do this...I think."
The mage looked back up at the tall women with worry in her eyes. "It's very unlikely. Magic of this scale is usually only within the scale of the divine. My worry is that this is only the first act in a very dangerous game. I think I can destroy the pillars but I need time to study them, time when I'm not being distracted by that beast. Keep an eye on it for me, wont you?"
Lyra would return to studying the thick journal in her hands while glancing up occasionally to study the pillars of distilled necromantic energy with arcane enhanced vision. The fire would continue to burn, feeding off the dead flesh of the creature and showed no reaction to the prayer by the cleric of Calistria. Mehaila would feel no reaction to her words, no flush of heat or cold, no sense of seduction or any of the other things she had felt from her prayers. It seems this time the vengeful goddess was withholding her benediction for some reason.
Ten minutes later the mage would snap her book shut and stow it back into her white robe. Snapping her fingers, Lyra summoned Mylee from the sky to her hand. The blue hawk's form blurred as she dove down and alit into the short woman's hand in the form form of a black staff that crackled with lightning. Using the staff the mage began to draw a circle in the ground next to the river and leaving behind glowing lines of power. The process took her several minutes as she moved carefully to inscribe the symbols of power as a mistake here would kill her or worse.
The second the circle was completed a pillar of energy shot a hundred feet into the sky before fading away. A translucent curtain of power shielding the inside of the circle from the rest of world and showed no reaction as the mage carefully stepped into the circle without disturbing any of her work. She ground the staff into the center of the circle and held her other hand out to the pillars. "Beware what comes next. The pillars will seek to defend themselves."
Taking a deep breath Lyra visibly steeled herself before barking a single word in the harsh draconic tongue. Instantly seven lashes of white light exploded from the circle and launched at the pillars, which reacted with black lightning. The two energies met exactly in the middle of the distance between the two nodes with a powerful shockwave that flattened trees on either side of the river and blasted a crater below. Before the party could shield themselves from the blast the circle around Lyra flared with blue energy and drew the energy in, dissipating the shockwave so they only felt a strong blast of air that knocked them back a step.
At the same time the fire consuming the undead exploded into a twenty foot tall bonfire of green. Inside the flickering green light the party could see a large figure begin to stir and pick itself up from the ground. It turned it's large head and two points of furious red energy pierced even the bright fire and locked on the mage. Lyra heard the explosion behind her and felt the blast of heat but dared not look, her entire being focused on the wild streams of magic that fought over the smoldering crater.
"Do it. We've got your back," Moira says, starring at the pillars. Something divine? Great. A god wants this land. Good thing three others were on their side at least. Moira continues to watch the pillars while Lyra works, expecting something to come from them. She turns in surprise to see the fallen undead begin to stir instead. She instinctively begins to draw an arrow until she remembers how ineffective that was. With a growl she puts it away and draws her sword. She didn't want to get close to it but it seemed there was no other option. If Lyra didn't stop it, it would just keep reforming. This had to end here.
Mehaila feels a bit discouraged by the lack of response, but she also felt she was wise to the source of the lack. That would not change her viewpoint that her faith was placed correctly. If nothing else what makes a better revenge than proving she could stand this test alone? But that would solve nothing if she got into a debate with her deity now, for after the prayer, it became clear something was happening.
When it became clear that even holy magic was challenged, she felt there may be a chance to trick the creature. They clearly had bested it when it was more fully formed, perhaps a deal could be struck?
" Creature in the flame! What is your business here? You are called forth by what?" Meha calls out, using a bit of charm to try and figure out how the creature would respond. It could be smart after all
Rose turns to see the creature beginning to slowly move again and her heart drops. She did not have another one of frigid flask that managed to completely wreck it the first time. She hoped that at the very least they could keep the creature at bay until Lyra could finish the ritual she was performing. She was just nervous considering how lucky she was to finish the fight in the first place... But maybe the others that had various divine gifts could do as much if not more as her abilities had done previously.
She swallowed and breathed steadily as she got ready for whatever the creature had next to throw at them. She pulled a shimmering tincture similar to before and quaffed it, feeling the power manifest a shimmering barrier as it had done so before and got ready to loose yet more arrows at the thing.
When Domitian feels the heat of the flames he turns quickly back around to see the undead abomination rising again, disappointment and a grim determination lining his eyes. Why am I not surprised... He looks back and forth between the creature and the work Lyra was doing, and quickly put his bow away. He then walked over to stand next to Moira, pulling out his falchion as he did. "We took this one easily enough the first time, we can keep the ugly beast away from Lyra easily enough" he says, exuding confidence he believes in even if he doesn't fully feel it himself.
As he set himself to wait for the flames to die down, he concentrates for a moment, and then his wings sprout to life. Their gentle glow barely shows up against the flames around the undead creature, but it is there nonetheless, and it makes him smile. He places both hands on his falchion, gathers his strength, and waits to see if beyond all expectation that thing would respond to Mehaila.
The monster roared in fury at the insignificant ants that dared interfere with the hunt, flaring out two immense bat wings covered with rotting membrane. A second later it launched itself forward out of the flame, covering the distance to Domitian and Moira with startling swiftness. It seems like the monster didn't even notice Mehaila's efforts.
The monster let loose a powerful 1-2 punch, lashing out with bone spikes that crackled with green and black lightning.
Domitian was rocked by the powerful blows of the monster as blood splattered the ground from his wounds. As the group closed in around the monster Lyra succeeded in her own efforts as a single tendril of energy from her circle spiraled around a black tendril and before wrapping around the pillar powering the lightning. The energy tentacle constricted and shattered the pillar with a snarl of energy that rebounded as the undead monster staggered as a chunk of it's life simply vanished.
Domitian slowly smiled as the beast came straight towards him, and that slight smile stayed even as the vicious blow struck him dead on. Blood is a small price to pay to keep your attention... His gaze resettled on the abomination, even as his left hand slowly drew down the length of his falchion. As the hand traveled over the blade, it began to glow with an inner light.
Once the hand returns to the hilt of the sword, he sends it singing out in a blur toward the evil beast.
As his sword bites into the rotten flesh, vines shoot out from the wound and attempt to bind the creature to the earth.
Domitian then takes a small step away from the beast, taunting him to attack again.
Spend 1 MP to activate Heroic Block, moving up to 200 ft to be adjacent to the baddie and the target, aiding their AC:
With Perfect Aid, that is 2 + 2 (mythic tier) + 6 (surge total), or +10 to AC.
Mehaila seems stunned momentarily as the creature completely ignores her. After having a little bit of power for so long she was not used to something just completely acting like she did not exist. Calling on a bit of anger, and with a thought of vengeance, Meha calls forth a burst of light, full of the sting of the slight the creature gave her. HOW DARE IT?! Filthy creature. Take this. The sight of Dom being struck only adds to her anger, for that was hers to do what she wanted to with.
The power brought forth from her finger was light a bright ray of light, shining brightly as it went and pierced into the creatures skin, the holy power of Calistria clear as she strikes it. The vengeance was a bit clear in her pose, as she moves to get closer to the creature as she could after throwing that spell.
Rose felt nervous as she used her strange shadowy wings to bring her closer to the creature and closer to Domitian and Moira. She felt chills along her arms and back, as the creature looked even stronger than before, but she was also very much determined.
Gathering her courage he decided to do one thing that she thought wouldn't draw apparent ire from the creature, she would damn the foul thing with a hex upon it. She felt her third eye open and her will stretch forth to tug at the creature's fate as she damned it and cursed it to have Misfortune.
As spell and weapon carved into the hide of the undead Moira attempted to slide around the side of the back of the monster to place it firmly between her and Domitian. Her movements caught the eye of the creature and it swung a powerful backhand at her in response. The paladin intervened almost faster then the eye could see, slamming his shoulder into the monsters arm and forcing the blow against Moira wide. The fighter managed to slide around behind the monster and chopped down with all of her might, her pale white greatsword carving a wide chunk out of the monsters back and exposing part of it's spine.
The monster became even more enraged at the temerity of the holy knight and came down with a double fisted slam, attempted to bring the paladin to his knees. One of the hammerfists went wide but the other scored with almost pinpoint accuracy, staggering the paladin a step as his right shoulder was almost pulverized. Black and green energy snapped loudly in Domitian's ear as the unholy energy fed hungrily on the paladin's life-force.
Behind the party Lyra continued to battle with the pillars powering the undead creature, her magic beating back yet more of the foul power and crushing a second pillar to pieces and removing yet more of the monsters power.
Moira gives silent thanks to Domitian for his timely save as she circles to the creature's back. As strong as it was it might have been a fatal blow. But now that it's attention was elsewhere she could lay into it's exposed flank. "Oy. Dickless brute. Am I looking at your ass or your face over here?" Moira quips as her sword glows with holy power.
Rose frowns as she didn't feel as though her hex took hold of the creature. In fact it felt like nothing happened. She grit her teeth, muttering, "Resilient abomination..." She sighed and reached into her bags to pull out a shimmery opalescent bottle and quickly swigging the mixture. She shuddered a little bit at the bitter taste, but immediately she felt her mind sharpen and she could picture better how to focus the power of her explosives so they only affected something more potently.
She cast a look over her shoulder briefly at Lyra, hoping that her ritual was going well, but not able to steal a longer glance as the creature in front of them demanded their immediate attention. After she drank her extract, she moved only slightly closer, getting ready to throw another explosive and then tactfully retreat to a safe distance if she needed. She was already thinking of the next action as she prepared her next attack.
Red light flashes as once again the rotten thing connects sharply. In all of their time together, all of the epic battles they had faced, nothing ever had hit as hard as this thing. And those dark tendrils clung tight to his skin far too close for his liking. Placing one hand on his wounded shoulder, Domitian calls out "Erastil, a little help? This one is tough!" As he calls out, a white light floods through his hand and surrounds his shoulder, shattering the remaining power of the dark tendrils and restoring the strong skin underneath.
His eyebrows do go up slightly as Moira taunts the thing, and he glances around the smelly beast at her. "Really Moira?" he chides, as his sword goes flying into the thing's side once more. "Just because we are killing this thing... again... no reason we can't be polite about it." He gives her a little grin as he says it, and adds "though I admit I'm not entirely sure what side I'm looking at either..."
Use Fortified Armor Training to negate the crit.
Use Hero's Defiance to heal myself:
Spend 1 MP to activate Heroic Block, moving up to 200 ft to be adjacent to the baddie and the target, aiding their AC:
With Perfect Aid, that is 2 + 2 (mythic tier) + 6 (surge total), or +10 to AC.
Mehaila dashes forward, stopping about 40 feet away from the beast as she cast out another blinding flare of light from her hand, as the sound of a whip is heard, bringing forth the imagery and ideas of a harsh crack along skin that was still delightful to the one on the receiving end. She was not close enough to assist Dom or Moira quite yet, but she calls out " Keep it distracted and I will try to weaken it! Hold on a bit longer! For the beauty of Calistria we shall defeat this blight!"
The monster seemed to have a moment of clarity as it saw Lyra's power beginning to win against a third pillar, the white tendril reaching out for the killing blow. It crouched and launched into the sky with tremendous power as Mehaila's beam of white energy hit and dragged across it's torso, jumping clear over Domitian, Mehaila and looking like it was going to land directly on Lyra with a double pile driver blow that would surely kill the small woman.
Halfway to the magi the paladin took a single step and simply vanished, the only sign of his passing a blur and puffs of dirt from the ground. He reappeared between the monster and Lyra with his sword already raised high overhead, skidding a few feet from his great velocity. With a shout the great curved blade grew to monstrous proportions and caught the undead in midair with a wet impact, its momentum savagely reversed as the paladin slammed the creature back the way it had come.
Moira saw the corpse flying towards her and took two steps to the side as the barely connected halves hit the ground and tumbled past her before resting twenty feet behind her. Once stopped it did not move, the two halves sagging to the ground in the creature's second death. A moment later there was a triumphant yell from Lyra as a third pillar snapped with an angry snarl of impotent power.
Moira looks at the body of the fallen creature, eyes wide. She turns to look at Dom. Holy s*%$. He can do that? Can I do that? Has he always looked that hot? Wait. No. Bad. With effort, she manages to look away from a hot and sweaty paladin to turn back to the creature. The pillars weren't all gone and it had gotten up before. Cautiously she begins to circle back to it's flank. "You guys think it's dead this time?"
Dom blinked with surprise at what he had just done. He hadn't really thought, he just reacted when he saw the thing going for Lyra. He takes a deep breath, then turns around to make sure Lyra is OK. Seeing her still in the throws of whatever arcane battle she was involved in, and apparently unharmed, he gave a brief flap of his wings and soared back over to where the beast had fallen.
It really did fly a very long way. What am I becoming? Hints of both pride and terror flow through his mind as he struggles to come to terms with his abilities. As he flies through the air. On magic wings.
Arriving at the corpse, he pushes all that out of his mind to deal with the threat at hand. At Moira's question, he gives a noncommittal shrug. "I don't think we can assume anything. Weapons out, and if it so much as twitches we'll kill it again. Got any fire handy? That works on trolls."
Stab it. Stab it hard.
Rose was about to hit it with an attack when it decided to turn toward Lyra and leap with horrifying force. No no no! Was her immediate thought as the creature was going for her, but what happened next was almost too quick to follow.
Domitian rushed passed her with such speed to intercept and then powerfully slap the creature back down to land almost directly in front of Rose. She moved back out of caution and surprise.
Once she regained her composure again, she nodded. "Keeping at the ready would be best, those spires aren't broken quite yet." She was ready to pull the components to strike it with another bomb at the first sign that it would rise once more.
Taken by surprise, Mehaila was heading in the exact opposite direction the creature apparently wanted to take. Which was not good, as she suddenly had no time to react, a rare occasion for this elf. What was even more amazing was how quickly her husband was able to throw not only the creature off balance, but even seemly killed it, sending the body away from Lyra to a safe distance. If able to reach it, Mehaila would start her best to remove the head from the body, the gory filled work taking her time, but would also hopefully prevent the monster from rising again.
"If we break it into pieces, surely it will have trouble coming back, and it makes it much easier to burn and purify, if it deserve such a fate. This was no innocent I feel. I pray Calistria sends them to their proper place."
In the few seconds that the party debated and bantered there was a flash of unholy light from the monster. In the few seconds it took for Moira and Domitian to blink their eyes clear the monster had not only knit itself back together but was in the process of standing from a kneeling position. It looked once more different, the grey skin of the monster gaining the color of human skin and the bald scalp of the monster gaining a thicket of black hair.
The paladin's sword came swinging down with all of the strength he could put behind it, the blade glowing with righteous vengeance. There was a blur and meaty thud as the monster threw up a hand and caught the blade in a powerful grasp, suffering only a trickle of black blood from it's hand as it looked up and glared at the paladin with red eyes. "THAT HURTS!"
The next thing Domitian saw was a meaty fist coming at his face with furious intent. His combat experience enabled the paladin to yank his blade clear and roll away from the powerful uppercut that would have easily ripped his head off. The monster lurched to his feet with the strike and took up a guarded position with elbows at his side and fists raised to protect his face. Somehow the undead monster was suddenly skilled with fisticuffs.
Taking a step towards the beast, Mehaila was caught completely off guard by it's sudden reappearance, and then its ability to not only speak, but to stand back up. The monster, or man, or whatever it was suddenly was a threat, and she took quick aim and drove her rapier into a weak spot in his defenses as he should up, a move that hampered his guard for the others to hopefully have an easier time to hit him with. It wasn't the prettiest strike in the book, but it counted, and at a time like this it was the type of underhanded fighting they needed.
Despite being temporarily blinded, Moira knew freezing up could be a death sentence. She kept running in a circle around the beast as sight returned to her. And just in time too. She saw Dom engage and nearly get his head taken off as the creature caught his blade and retaliated.
Also it spoke. What?
No. No time to think about that. She managed to get the rest of the way around it before hurtling in to melee using a burst of speed from wings. She brought her sword around for a quick double strike, being mindful of Mehaila's close proximity.
Rose was surprised at how quickly it moved, shocked at how each time it got back up it started having more features, looking more humanoid that wretched abomination, and horrifed when it spoke. It was becoming more intelligent and that was a terrifying possibility if they didn't manage to deal with it before they exhausted all their capabilities.
She moved to try and position herself better as the creature was a little further away still than she would prefer, reaching into her bags once more to gather her ingredients. She wanted to save most of her flasks for another time, so for now she decided to add an unstable accelerant to her bomb, the elixir she drank before filling her mind with images on how best to construct it, it would not splash and instead be intensely concentrated on the location hit, so she prayed it would not miss it's intended target and she had already hurled the bottled conflagration towards her foe, watching as the chemicals sloshed and combined together in a swirl of volatile beauty as the bottle sailed through the air.
Domitian shook his head after the blinding light, sure he was seeing incorrectly, but no - the thing was becoming more human looking. Creepy. No matter, he would strike it back down anyway.
Then the bloody thing caught his freaking sword, spoke to him, and almost punched his head off, and there was no longer time for fanciful things like thinking. As the man-beast finished standing, and dear Meha stabbed in for a nice distraction, Dom's glowing sword went flying in yet again.
Then has Moira slammed into it from behind, he took advantage of that opportunity to snake in for another hit.
Use Fortified Armor Training to negate the crit.
Use Hero's Defiance to heal myself:
Spend 1 MP to activate Heroic Block, moving up to 200 ft to be adjacent to the baddie and the target, aiding their AC:
With Perfect Aid, that is 2 + 2 (mythic tier), or +4 to AC.
A flurry of steel and magic attacked the undead from all sides as the party pounded their rage and frustration into it's flesh. Black blood splashed the ground everyone tried to kill the creature, again. This time however it seemed the monster had better defenses as about half of their strikes were turned aside by it's dense skin.
"Haha that tickles! Get out of my way!" it bellowed before hunching down and charging forward, slamming into Domitian with terrific force and almost toppling the paladin over backwards. Moving almost like a dancer Domitian stepped back several steps and set himself before meeting charge with charge, stopping the monsters movement cold.
The two titans strained against each other as neither could get the upper hand, the ground tearing up under their feet as they pushed as hard as they could when suddenly a pair of heavily muscled arms circled around the monster's waist. Moira, glowing with holy power, grit her teeth and heaved. The monster came up off it's feet and was flipped backwards as Moira bent backwards intending on slamming it's head against the ground with terrific force.
Moving like a snake Mehaila stepped behind Moira and held her magic rapier firmly, tensing her body like a bow before snapping the weapon up in an almost perfect lunge that took the beast in the back of the head. The two opposing forces of sword and body slam proved too much for the creature's neck and it's head came off with a wet snap as Mehaila's sword arm was suddenly dragged down by the unexpected weight. A split second later Moira slammed the headless corpse into the ground with enough force to create a five foot rift underneath.
The remaining pillars flared with thick streams of sticky, stinking unholy energy that sent out hungry tendrils towards the once again dead undead. Before they moved ten feet an immense hand of blue energy gripped the tendrils like errant threads and pulled them until they snapped. The hand vanished as Lyra, eyes and mouth glowing with raging blue magic, made a fist and smashed it into the ground within her magic circle. A moment later another glowing fist fifty feet wide appeared over the remaining pillars and came down with terrific force, shattering all of them and shaking the ground.
Once the trees stopped shaking the battlefield became quiet as Lyra collapsed in exhaustion and her magic faded away. The rest of the party would suddenly hear and feel their hearts pounding as the adrenaline suddenly had no outlet and they gasped for breath. For once though the creature remained still and the broken pillars were nothing more then a collection of black stones on the ground. Rosa's impromptu iceberg finally split under the heat of the season and flowed down river as the water resumed it's normal course.
Rose stood shaking and breathing deeply for several moments, feeling the weariness of the fight finally take toll after it had finally seemed as though the creature was finally no more.
Once she had regained herself a bit she quickly made her way over to Lyra to check on her, as her fight had to have been the most taxing of all. She took in the devastation of the pillars with wide eyes as she could only hear what happened not wanting to spare glances back until the creature was finally put down for good.
"Well that was quite eventful and I hope we don't have a repeat performance any time soon. Though..." She placed a finger to her chin. "That thing was wholly unnatural. Wonder what caused those pillars to spring up in the first place." She bit her lip as she thought about it, then looking to Lyra, but deciding on more helping her to her feet rather than picking her sister's brain for esoteric knowledge for the time being.
Dom lets out a sigh of relief as everything finally drops and stays that way. "What the hell was all that? Is everyone OK?" He looks around the battlefield, taking in the headless corpse (not moving again, thankfully), the rift Moira had managed to make in the bloody stone, and the ruins of the pillars further off. He shakes his head slowly at the devastation of the scene.
Then his eyes go wide as he notices that Lyra had collapsed. He starts moving toward her quickly, but with a slight limp, clearly favoring one side. "Lyra, are you alright?" he asks, examining her with concern in his eyes.
Mehaila makes a face at the head, before giving the body a final kick to ensure proper death. Whatever this things crimes, surely Calistria will find its proper place among the dead, to be rightfully punished for it's clear misdeeds. She then tries to check and see if the body had anything on it, looking at it with magical vision with the utterance of a word.
Rose would nod still shaky from the adrenaline. "I am fine, I am just trying to help Lyra keep steady after exerting herself with that foul pillar business." She smiled weakly, still nervous that the creature would still find some way to get right back up again.
She looked to the others, particularly Domitian. "Are you alright?" She asked showing concern knowing the foul thing had hit them several times.
Lyra accepted the hand from her sister and sat up into sitting position. She wiped the blood that had started to seep from her nose from the intensity of the crafting with a handkerchief pulled from her pocket and grimaced at the bright red stains. Taking a huge sigh of relief and exhaustion she looked around at the carnage of the fight seemingly for the first time and her eyes went wide at the destruction around her. The mage was silent for along time as her eyes darted around and cataloged everything.
After regaining her strength and standing the short woman brushed the dirt from her pants and glanced to make sure the remnants of the pillars were dissipating. When she saw the hundreds of pieces of distilled negative energy evaporating into nothing she trudged wearily back to her horse. "Lets get somewhere else and make camp, i'm completely spent of all magic power. We have a lot to talk about."
After the party had traveled an hour further into the forest and found a suitable clearing they had set up camp and washed the blood and other marks of combat from their bodies. Lyra helped where she could but it was obvious to everyone that the magic she had performed had taken everything out of the small woman as she didn't even have the energy to bury herself into her spellbook as she often did most nights.
Once dinner was finished Lyra looked around at the party and began to speak in a worried tone. "What we fought today, that creature, is a byproduct of a process I've been seeing the hints of manifesting ever since the night the area was touched by Nethys. To try to explain..." she slowed to silence as she struggled to find the right words. "In many ways, magic is not some esoteric, supernatural force that only a few rare chosen can manipulate. It is a pillar of creation like heat or light, a fundamental force that existed long before any beings such as our God of Magic claimed supposed dominion over it. In the most basic terms magic is just a form of energy that responds to mental stimulus and like most forms of energy it can react with what we perceive as reality in an infinite number of ways. The great boar we fought two years ago was the first hint I had had that something was afoot. Everything I gathered from the Levetons and the hunters that roamed the area suggested that the boar, while massive, was still just a normal animal. Not the creature we fought, imbued with the essence of earth magic."
Lyra paused to take a sip of her mint tea before continuing on. "And then all of the incidents that have happened since then. The ice creatures that almost killed all of us, the phoenix, the Blood Moon...this." she waved at herself, pulling back her sleeve to illuminate the pale, purple skin.
"And finally pillars of distilled necromantic energy erupting from the ground randomly and killing a passing group of gnomes and then combining and animating their bodies into an undead monstrosity. Nothing I've read about the Stone Lands indicated that it was imbued with such an abundance of potent magic seemingly everywhere we travel. I think that night where we felt the presence of the Divine Arcmage left a permanent mark on the lands we seek to claim as our own. We should be prepared in the future to deal with...things that are imbued with forces far beyond what we would term as normal. Magic this powerful left to run amok can be very dangerous."
Domitian listened with concern as Lyra outlined the things occurring in the area. As she went on, his frown deepened and deepened. "Crazy as things have been, you're saying that this is only the beginning?" The large man suddenly stands and paces away, looking out to the distance while rubbing his shoulder. He appeared to be massaging it, as though trying to remove a cramp. He is obviously agitated, moreso than after any of their previous encounters.
Without looking back at Lyra he continues "Is there anything we can do about this? Any way to shape it, to cultivate it? If we could harness the power, as with the phoenix, it could be a great boon to the land." He looks back at her hopefully. "Or even just keep it at bay, as we would cultivate a field?"
Lyra didn't answer Domitian's question right away, staring into the fire as she tried to figure out the best way to answer. Magic left unchecked would sink into and alter anything at random and there was no way to predict where such powerful currents would flow. It could do something as innocuous as making a stone glow or transform a flower into a dragon. And anyone attempting to capture and channel such immense power would be taking a large risk without the proper precautions. "Maybe."
She shifted on the log she was sitting on and looked up at the tall man. "And I stress, maybe. It will take me time to research and design anything remotely capable of handling such an influx of wild arcana. And even if I do I'm not sure what material is capable of withstanding that much energy. Nothing we've come across..." she trailed off as a sudden thought fired into her head, her posture becoming more upright as if blessed with sudden invigoration. Without a word she jumped up from the fire and ran into her tent, rifling in there for a short minute before coming out with a small black velvet bag embroidered with mithril. She opened the bag and flipped it over into her hand, dumping the contents out.
There was a dull clatter as two stones rolled into her palm, one a rough topaz the size of a melon and a fist sized gem colored the red of blood. She staggered under the weight of the two stones before getting both hands to hold them up. She sat back down on the log and placed the blood diamond on her lap before holding up the rough topaz to the firelight to watch the light play through the interior. She mouthed the words to a minor cantrip, all she was capable right now, and stared as the world around her took on a different cast of light.
Lyra was caught off guard as the entire world around her began to glow with a soft light under her enhanced sight. While the magic wasn't intense enough to manifest it existed in far higher concentrations then was normal for the material world. It also would make the task of detecting the minor oscillations of magic within the topaz almost impossible. She canceled the spell with a wave of her hand and frowned in irritation. "I can't tell if these gems have the proper crystalline lattice necessary for controlling arcana flow, there is too much interference in the atmosphere around us. Either this is exactly what I need to help with this problem or it will be."
She placed both gems back into her magical bag and cinched the opening shut before sliding the bag under her coat. "I'll need time and a proper workspace, neither of which I have out in the field."
Rose listened to the conversation, chewing on her thumb some as she thought about the recent events that had transpired. She couldn't disagree that since the night of the blood moon things had been very very different. And the idea that it would just keep getting stranger and worse gave her a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She reached for her staff to let her fingers play with the carvings she had made upon it, tracing the runes gently as thought about everything being said. She flinched some at Lyra's sudden animation and inspiration and when she mentioned her thoughts, her reassurances, they weren't completely foolproof, but a chance was more than nothing and that hope would have to be at least their starting point for now.
While her magic was differently sourced, she was not blind to the fact it did come from other places. When Dom walked away she approached him and landed a hand on him, a small gesture of support. This wasn't her area of expertise, but she knew enough about magic to ask some questions. " What if we flowed the magic in us? We are able to do feats little others can, and with seemingly no ill affects. Most of us here are either god-called, or blessed with the nature ability to channel magics. Most of us are elven anyway. Perhaps we can bleed the excess into our own spells? Would that give it a better direction? Or is it just too much too quickly?"
Lyra's eyes opened wide at Mehaila's suggestion and she was suddenly visibly trying to restrain her laughter. After silently struggling to contain her amusement for a minute she calmed down enough to answer without laughing in the elf's face. "Unfortunately if we tried to absorb that much magic we most likely would explode. Or mutate into a monster. Or any number of things, you can't absorb that much magic without becoming something you were not born as. And how would you stop the influx of ambient magic into your spells at just enough? You would most likely overlord your spell and have it blow up in your face. We need something of a more permanent and resilient nature to channel the amount of magic that can blanket an entire region into something useful and controlled."
The mage yawned widely at this point and rubbed at her eyes tiredly. "Normally I would love to eloquently wax long into the night about arcanomechanics but I am absolutely exhausted so I will see you in the morning."
Without another word the short woman would go crawl into her tent and soon be fast asleep. Shirak would ghost out of the forest and check on the position and smells of the camp before disappearing into the darkness on her normal nightly patrols. Mylee had been asleep in the branches of a nearby tree since just after sundown and shifted only to cover her head with a wing to shield her eyes from the glare of the campfire.
Domitian listens to all the various thoughts patiently, though the frown never leaves his face. He looks after Lyra as she suddenly retires to her tent, clearly not pleased at the sudden ending of the conversation, but just as clearly also tired. With a shrug, he says "Without Lyra's input, I'm not sure we can figure out anything else; I certainly don't feel qualified to know the first thing about solving this problem. Perhaps sleeping on it isn't a bad idea..."
At that, Domitian also heads to bed, still rubbing his shoulder.
The next morning, Dom asks Mehaila "Have you ever dealt with a wound that wouldn't heal with your magic?" He shows her his shoulder, which is still clearly wounded and a little blackened. "I tried healing it last night, and again after sleeping, but it is stubbornly sticking around. It is one of the places where the undead thing hit me."
The question Dom probed her about, she had already noticed, the wound on his shoulder, and she thinks on it for a moment before replying. " There are cases were a poison or such would cause the healing to not fully take affect. But you do not seemed poisoned. Can you move it fully?" She would poke the area around it, trying to figure out what would cause something to what she would call festering, even after magical healing.
After trying remove curse, for her knowledge of healing made her think it was not a poison or a disease, however it did not come to fruition. She growls, but having prepared just in case, she tries calling on the powers again. However, whatever this curse was kept evading her. She got close one time she felt, feeling a slight tug in the weaving of magics around Dom, but with everything else and the wild magic in the area both times it escaped her. " I will have to try again in the morning, but we should also watch it. Keep it covered to keep any bugs and dirt out."
The following morning Rose will be fidgeting with her belongings. She still had a couple of the impossibly strong mixtures that she had brewed much like the liquid ice that she had used on the creature, but she also remembered how difficult and costly it had been to somehow miraculously brew such a potent alchemical weapon. She still had others left but wanted to desperately save them for the troll issue they knew they were hunting for currently before they came across the strange abomination.
Were there other creatures like this lurking around? And Lyra said it had been a strange magical phenomenon. What happened to prompt such a thing being birthed?
These questions nagged at her and made her bite her lip softly in thought as she poured over her research and her notes, more out of nervous habit than anything.
The next morning was cold as the party awoke to find the first signs of Autumn's grip on this part of the world as the first red leaves began to appear in the dawn's light. The coals of the previous night smoldered in the pit and were warm enough to ignite a new fire and provide a warm meal for the group. It took Mehaila the entire morning for her healing magic to penetrate deep enough into the corruption infecting Domitian's shoulder to cleanse it and close the wound. The infection vanished into a stream of noxious black smoke that floated into the sky and dispersed with the faster winds over the tree canopy.
The cleansing process affected Domitian far more potently then it should have, the paladin feeling the healing magic as a scouring fire burning deep into the recesses of his soul and incinerating the infection. By noon the paladin was soaked with sweat and his entire existence felt raw and exposed, his hands trembling with exhaustion as the healing finally ended and he could stop choking back the screams. A minty smelling tea brewed up quickly by Rosa sent the paladin into a deep sleep that kept him in bed until the next morning, the party luckily left unmolested while they protected the vulnerable holy knight. Lyra would spend the day drawing a picture of the image of Domitian's grimacing form in the bed roll while Mehaila hovers over him with holy magic pouring from her hand, her face contorted with worry and concentration.
The next day was very cold with temperatures will below 0 and requiring the party to warm themselves with the heavy and beautiful cloaks created by Lyra in the previous year. Through the trees overhead the party be able to see snatches of clouds that appeared to be shaped like interlocking cogs that spun slowly. Lyra's tiger Shirak happily cleaned the blood from her fur from the deer she had hunted and fed upon before returning to camp, the process being laborious and meticulous as every inch of fur was returned to shimmering brilliance.
The infection itself hadn't been that bad; some mild discomfort, limited range of motion, nothing he couldn't handle. The healing of the infection, though, was one of the most painful experiences of his life. Dragon teeth had nothing on this. The day Domitian spent healing was luckily just a blur; a blur of fire and pain, but foggy for all that. He likely would go mad if he could remember it any better.
For all that, though, he seemed none the worse for wear that next cold morning. To be honest, he absolutely loved the cold after the heat of the previous day. He wrapped himself deep in his cloak as he prepared to break camp. Spying the drawing Lyra had made, though, gave him pause. The drawing was really quite remarkable, capturing the soul of the healing, the pain in his own eyes and the fear and determination in Meha's. Given his own lack of memory of the experience, it was startling to see.
Walking over to Mehalia, Domitian gestures over to the drawing. His deep baritone voice, raw still from the whole experience, quietly grumbles out "If I haven't said so recently, you're one hell of a woman. Thanks."
When they are ready to head out, he suggests "Shall we continue on south? These trolls won't wait for us long."
Rosa had been relieved they put the creature down but the torture that Domitian had to experience afterwards was... something else entirely.
It challenged her as a witch and an alchemist to try and brew for him anything that would ease the pain he was experiencing from the foul creatures taint that it had left upon him. She also thought inwardly that it was better him than herself or Lyra and that made her kind of hate herself a little for thinking like that.
When he finally made it through his ordeal, she was thankful and glad, she continued to make her herbal teas for him because brewing things always brought her peace of mind despite everything.
When they had gathered their things, she turned to Domitian and replied, "It's probably best if we do move quickly, we already lost quite a bit of time and who knows what those things are doing in the meantime right now." She looked off into the distance.
The morning after Domitian finds himself healed of the corruption the undead monstrosity inflicted upon him was filled with a slow start as the group filled in the paladin on what he had missed and waited for him to eat the enormous breakfast they had prepared for him. Being unable to eat for over 24 hours left the holy warrior absolutely famished and only after his third plate did he find satisfaction.
Such bliss was short lived as Lyra's dire warnings about the heavy magic permeating the area came to startling reality. When she cast a simple cantrip to warm a cup of tea for breakfast the magic began to run wild in an explosion of steam as the tea instantly vaporized. The tea cup tumbled down into the grass and instantly scorched any plant matter it touched black as the hardened clay began to glow with heat and barely restrained magical fury. When healthy green grass began to burn a foot away from the cup Rosa tried to intercede by tossing one of her freezing bombs that she had just learned how to make.
The physical holding the volatile matter of the bomb vanished in a flash of light as the raw magic was sucked out of the fluid and joined a growing cyclone of power that was spinning around the miniature volcano the tea cup had become. Lyra threw out her hand in a panic and launched a cone of blue flames that froze everything they touched before the energy was sucked out her hand and literally yanked the mage forward. The hungry maelstrom sucked every ounce of magic out of Lyra before burrowing deeper and sucking out the core of power that gave her superhuman abilities.
Before anyone else could try and stop the maelstrom there was a pause of an impossibly long second where the party could see the magic crashing down into a microscopic point about a foot off the ground that grew into a marble sized ball of roiling fury and power. As the world around them seemed to slow to a crawl the bead of magic sent out angry strokes of lightning that vaporized entire sections of trees and sent the party crashing to the ground. The energy scythed over their heads and cut the horses down before the creatures had a chance to scream in panic before blasting three foot craters all around the area at random.
And as the watch hand moved to the next second the bead exploded into fury the likes of which the world had never seen. The party simply vanishes into light as every molecule of their body is turned into energy as the energy wave travels out at the speed of sound transforming everything it touched into energy that magnified the power of the magical apocalypse so that it began to pierce the barriers between the dimensions and spread out to the outer planes.
As as the last shackle on the Rough Beast's prison broke the Great Worm wriggled free only to be met by a power that even the gods could not stop and was ripped into pieces. In a last ditch effort the gods ripped open barriers that should never had existed and shunted every ounce of reality into another dimension. Time became fluid as matter and energy reorganized as stars were born and died only to be reborn in an endless cycle as the gods merged with their alternate selves and the untold multitude of souls that followed spiraled into new life.
With a last gasp the gods slammed shut the dimensional barrier and sealed away the screams of a dying universe.
Time.
Stopped.
A being more vast and unknowable then a black hole held four glowing motes in it's hand, four insignificant specks of mortal life that had somehow shattered one of it's bubbles. It stared down at the firefly like existences in it's palm and contemplated eternity. What mischief could these pale beings do? It looked and saw that the new universe that had been created by the lesser ones was finally settling down and the cycle of souls was flowing like it should be. With a negligent wave of it's hand the four souls streamed down and rejoined the cycle, their memories stripped but the mythical essence that marked them as different so deeply interwoven with their souls that it could never be removed.
With a thought the Being restarted time and settled back to watch, more patient then the certainty of entropy.
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The day dawned with a mild heat and very little wind but the humidity making the air seem thick and muggy. The four adventures rode down the road at a sedate pace on their way towards the fort that they had been assigned to. The lanky black haired elf looked down at a map and calculated how much longer they had until they arrived to help this Oleg fellow.
"Three more days should get us there." Laeren said with a soft baritone as he rolled up the map. Shifting in his saddle pulled the high collar of his shirt down and revealed the scar that went the right side of his neck for a split second before the elf pulled the collar back up to hide it. "I don't want to waste too much time sucking up to the locals, we are the ones with the charter and the mission to tame the land and make it ours. They can either adapt or leave."
"Three more days should get us there." Laeren said with a soft baritone as he rolled up the map. Shifting in his saddle pulled the high collar of his shirt down and revealed the scar that went the right side of his neck for a split second before the elf pulled the collar back up to hide it. "I don't want to waste too much time sucking up to the locals, we are the ones with the charter and the mission to tame the land and make it ours. They can either adapt or leave."
A lithe red-haired man rode calmly next to the dour elf, looking happy for the journey despite the occasional mosquito. He was finely dressed and equipped for the road, with airy clothing and a fine wide hat on his head. "My dear Laeran, surely a little kindness and persuasion wouldn't be uncalled for. Willing masses are much easier to deal with than unwilling, or worse yet no masses at all. We shall win them to our side easy enough!" He swats another mosquito with a flinch and a grimace, then quickly smiles again. "If I can endure being eaten alive by the over abundance of these filthy insects, surely you can survive a few cross words?"
A rather brutish and muscular woman rode on the other side of the rather dandy, foppish-looking individual. She had dark tanned skin, she had almost orcish facial features, and her clothes and gear appeared to be a mixture of parts rugged primitive savage and learned scholar of a certain persuasion. It was equal parts incredulous whether she owned the various pouches and the small softly rattling box that she carried upon her person, or if it was some strange fascination for a trinket she decided to liberate from poor unfortunate soul that aggravated her in some dark slum alley.
No, despite her looks she was well educated. Most of her appearance was a result of the brutal life she was adopted into before deciding on her own personal pursuits. She breathed a heavy sigh, calling out to no one in particular, "Well if you aren't too careful, you might end up with some free protein for voicing your complaints." She jeered, giving a dark sidelong look through Laeran, to their companion Mr. Albercroft. "Though I do agree...It should be getting too cold for the pests." She frowned slightly, but then was thoughtful.
She had come a long way out here, and sure Domitian was all about appearances, but she never got that sense or feeling from Laeran, and was all the more surprised that he had offered her an invitation without so much as a second thought. A more skeptical side of her would have hesitated and missed the opportunity. Something instinctive inside her told her to jump at this chance.
Well it was too late to worry about getting cold feet, it seemed that was going to have to be the least of what they would have to endure as they traveled further and further north.
" Kindness is the weakness that only is found in the sun. Only true strength is found in the cold and dark. If they are unable to survive these lands warm nights, that is their weakness and our strength."
Her voice was frosted, as if chilled on ice like the words she aired. The tall elf rode towards the back, her white and black armor a mix of leather and soft furs, something that would seem to be warm on cold nights, but would be sweltering normally this far south. The long spear to her side and the raven on her shoulder was the only other adornment that could be seen to the eye.
Casting an eye about, Terian seemed to be looking into the shadows for longer than was needed, her ears twitching ever so slightly at each ones movements, as if she expected something to come from them. Given her hooded appearance, it was hard to tell if it would be fear or curiosity that kept her attention on them.
In truth, the only reason she had ventured out was her Goddess urging to tame this land and bring about a proper religion to new masses, and new faces. Perhaps this would not be an ill-fated thought.
The group chatted as their mounts slowly ate up the miles and day turned into evening as the sun traced it's path through the heavens overhead. When the sun got close to the horizon the group turned off the road and found a camping spot next to a large boulder and shielded from view by tall bushes. Dinner was a simple hardtack as it was clear that they were still traveling through dangerous lands.
As the sun finally dipped below the horizon and the first stars started to become visible a peculiarity in the sky grabbed everyone's attention. From the east a single point of light flickered and danced as it began to grow in size and raced across the horizon. As the light fell down from the heavens it began to curve in one direction and then another, seeking something from the multitudes below it. All too soon the party could see the light change direction and head straight for them, streaking low over the ground with a curious wailing sound. By the time the party could start hearing it they were all on their feet with weapons in hand, unsure of the calamity heading their way.
With a roar the light slammed into the ground very close to their camp site with an explosion of sound and dirt that smothered the small fire and cast their little dell into darkness. Before the dust could settle four figures of faint golden light rose up from the crater before racing forward with unnatural swiftness. The ghostly beings passed right through the weapon slashes as the party tried to back away quickly and were swiftly overcome as the apparitions dove down into their bodies. For several agonizing seconds each party member would have their mind overwhelmed by the fragmented memories of another as their souls were twisted and broken to make room for the sudden infusion of power these spirits forced upon them.
At the last second the flood of memories would vanish and each party member would see the clear image of their attacker standing in a endless expanse of black looking at the PC with sorrow on their face. With a whispered final message almost too faint for the adventurer to hear the spirits faded into whatever oblivion awaited them and the living were left with broken and random memories that quickly faded into the deepest recesses of their mind. What was left was the knowledge of the power that they had just been granted and how to use, how to change the world around them to make it their own.
The next morning the party awoke well rested and found no evidence of something landing from the heavens and the memory of the brief possession vanished into smoke. Aside from passing a merchant's caravan heading towards Restov with triple the amount of guards needed for such a journey the party had no other encounters as a small fort came into view on the Horizon. They arrived at the fort late in the evening to find a burly human man with a mane of curly brown hair pulling the gates shut against the dangers of the night. He paused long enough for the party to enter before shutting the gate closed behind them and locking it with a bar he lifted easily into place.
The man turned to the party while dusting off his hands and glared at them with intense brown eyes. Up closer they could see the suntanned skin and powerful frame of someone who lives on the frontier, fighting off beast and bandit to secure his own home. Behind that though the party would see the slumped shoulders of a broken man who is just going through the motions in a miserable life. "I'm afraid there isn't anything cooked for a group this large, best I've got is some cheese and bread. Svetlana my wife will cook up a hot breakfast in the morning. Stable your own horses, beds are in that building." He points to a building on the party's right. "I'm Oleg Leveton."
"Laeron." the big half-orc said quickly and dismounted. He pulled the charter from the saddlebag and handed it to Oleg. "We have been sent to wipe out the bandits for good and establish a colony further south."
The words seemed rushed and Laeron quickly looked away from Oleg and seemed intent on focusing solely on his horse.
Oleg handed the charter back immediately and shook his head. "Don't care much for whatever those idiots back in Restov proclaimed. Soon as you crossed south of the border you were no longer subject to any country's laws. This is unclaimed wilderness so first come first serve. If you founding a colony also results in all the bandits getting a short drop with a sudden stop, I'm more then happy to see you. Now I'm quick for bed so unless any of you have any questions...?