Sky calls out in the midst of firing his rifle, "Think it wise to fall back?! They got us 3:1!"
"Oh fu<k that, Arkham! We don't get paid unless they're all dead."
"If we fall back, the trap can thin their numbers you tit!"
"Oh. Brilliant." The deft rogue lobbed her other knife, which she calls "Chickadee", into the decaying head of a zombie before pivoting on her heel and moving beyond the trap. She is sandwiched between the pressure plate and the stone door that led further into the crypt. Sky shortly followed suit.
You all had a general observation that the crypt seemed to be more ornate and "richer" as you moved further down; as if the history of the Hyperior family was written in the construction. The family is certainly old - really old.
You turned and ran back toward the door, making sure not to step over the plate. The undead shuffled toward you, some not even making it down the stairs. Seemed to be a lot of money for such an easy job. You've certainly faced worse undead. Finally, the leading zombie stepped on the plate and darts quickly shot out from the flanking pillars, quite literally shooting chunks off of the Hyperior's great great great great great great great great great great great grandfather.
"Eeeeeewwwwwwwwwww!" screams Dru as she swats flesh off of her dark leather coat.
It takes a couple seconds for the plate to reset and three zombies shuffle closely behind Senior Fleshy McNuggets.
Unfortunately for the manavir, the iron doors are too sealed for any peering. As Sydney creeps closer to the open door, footsteps are heard walking over the sewer grate.
The necromancer Azeban and the magic-trickster Miles move out after he grabs the scimitar from the guard's corpse and hands you his wand-key. "You probably know this, but watch for torchlight. There will be orbs and nodes nearby."
As soon as Azeban and Miles leaves the cell they spot a woman pressed up against the wall shortly around the corner. Unfortunately for Sydney, Azeban can see quite well in dimmed light.
The figure you see, Azeban, resembles that of the one in your vision. There are subtle differences, but the vibe was all the same. Her fair complexion would intuitively indicate her lineage as maoren, however her eyes had the mark of the magically infused manavir .
Pressed against the wall, their exiting the cell caught you off-guard. The room did not offer any hiding places save for the unnatural pit in the center, probably deliberately constructed in such a fashion. With no where to go, the prisoners, one of which resembles your person of interest, spot you easily. The orc is old but strong and is decorated with many scars and tattoos. One scar is the symbol for a Zakarai, or a "necromancer" in the common tongue. The orcs see Zakarai as bridges between life and death, and are not viewed with fear and disdain as those in the Federation might see. It is the same for your people. All magic is useful, and necromancy is no exception.
The anthrosian with him is much smaller framed and not bad on the eyes. He has a very modern haircut; the sides buzzed down while the rest grows long. He has a couple tattoos, one of which rises from his chest onto his neck. Typical anthrosian of the counter-culture.
Sydney will make a Shs motion and will wave the the orc to come close to her.
I am here to get you out of this place. So follow exactly my every foot step
once he has acknowledge her she will proceed to take the escape route with the orc in tow
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Azeban's eyes light up upon seeing Sydney. "The gods foretold your arrival." His voice rumbles deeply, even when pleased. As he is currently serving no purpose, Miles is fairly rapidly forgotten by the Orc, who follows after the manavir. Once he notices that she is leading them to an exit, he pauses. "Wait." He breathes death. "I would like to destroy this place, set it all aflame before we leave. At the very least, I must recover my belongings. I would not presume to know the dangers of another's eyes in my book of magicks."
We unfortunately have no time for either or. I am on a tight schedule in order to get you out of this place. You can chose to follow me now and try to escape this place that few have made it out or stay and do as you please she looks at him deeply for a few seconds then resume on her escape path not looking if the orc is following her or not
Carroc mutely nods for a while, listening to the fairy.
Okay. He's a bit befuddled, but satisfied with what she says.
Suddenly alert when it seems someone might be coming, Carroc goes for the highest ground that'll give him a good view, and settles in to watch.
Azeban scowls at the woman he dreamed of, and turns his eyes towards Miles, measuring the man. "No." He growls. "This is not how I dreamt it." Shaking his head at Miles, he remarks, "Follow her if you want, my vision is otherwise." Stalking off in the opposite direction, Azeban begins to search for where his weapons, mask, and gear might be located.
Gear, weapons and other things can be replaced once you are out of here. The only thing that can not if life and freedom. And don't think that you will ever get an other chance at both. There is no time to waste as this rescue is on precise time table to ensure maximum chance of success. But the choice is yours and your life is yours to do as you please. Good luck finding things in this large place she whispers as she moves away.
Azeban hears the echo of voices coming from the hall way. . Sydney notices his attention is caught and hears the same.
"Quit your yappin', you two. I think one of them may be able to help Azeban in his search."
The guards' conversation is inaudible but the tone begins uplifted and then drops to worry as they come closer. They may realize that a patrol is missing. It would appear they are still some distance away.
You estimate they are beyond the grate where Sydney entered. Maybe 24 seconds (4 rounds) away.
Miles casts a spell and disappears from sight. If he moved to close to the hallway, he could be dispelled.
whispering listen to me orc, I am hearing a patrol coming our way. The will be here within the next 30 seconds. To you really want to end up back in that case or even worse dead should "they " want to prevent an other escape ? she pause giving him 2 seconds to answer
The necromancer sneers at Sydney, as if questioning why the gods would possibly send this person to aid him. "If we cannot take out a small patrol, we have little hope of escape. I will not slink off into the night like an animal." He hisses, his eyes blazing fury. "I will walk from here proudly, wearing their skins."
Settle down!
You think there is only one patrol group in this prison? All it takes is for the Alarm to be sounded and all the magic defenses to be activated and we can kiss our escape route good by and be stuck here. Do as you wish, it is your life to live and to trow away. There will be no other chance at escape after the Overlord will have learned that someone tried it in their most secure facility in the area. I will give you a farewell she says extending one hand
Azeban glares at Sydney, but does not respond to her gesture. "I have one alternate idea." His voice growls deeply. Looking at the corpse of the guard, he kneels down next to it, and takes a few seconds to chant, before looking directly at its face. "Answer me and receive your eternal rest. Resist and I will transform you into an abomination for use against your friends and loved ones. Where are my possessions?"
Despite Sydney's stress, Azeban is determined to find his belongings.
With time running short, you (Azeban) draw out what remnants you could from the impaled Asylum guard; plucking and pulling on the strings of his being like a plaything.
The guard's mouth begins to move, as strained words struggle to escape his mouth.
"euuugghgh.....hhhhhyyaaaaaaaah..... Theaaa... Reeeeaaaaaver's... possessions..... stored..... not.... in.... Asylum. Reaver..... had nyyyyeughooooooo belong.....iiiiings...."
And then it hit you. You have been a slave for sometime now. Any personal effects a khazahar brings from the homeland are placed in a storage facility, where the items are then auctioned off or refined into raw materials. There is hope yet that your belongings are safe, especially your mask.
The sound of the guard became louder. Miles "appeared" to be very irritated. In a stern whisper, he called to Azeban. "Look you filthy drawb! Our window is shutting and there's no way in Oblivion I'll go in the hole for you! So move your ass or I'll turn you in myself!" He turned his attention toward Sydney. "So how about it tuts? Show me the way out and I'll see I repay you in full."
Much in the manner you (Sydney) did before, you lifted the grate easily enough. Something was unsettling to you, however. What sense did it make to have such an easy escape route right on the bottom floor of a notorious high-security facility for arcane criminals? It was too easy...
Either way, a plan B was not an option, and down the grate you three went. The homeless man near the ladder was still there, apparently asleep despite the commotion. Azeban is the last to go down and brings the grate back into place. The three of you run toward the south, where the main sewer tunnel drains into the Twin Seas .
It took about fifteen minutes for you all to hear the fall of water splashing from on high. At this point, Azeban had moved ahead of Miles in the marching order, with Sydney still leading the way.
Your informant told you that there is a small boat below, though you would have to climb down the cliff face. The coast is jagged enough, providing substantial footing for a relatively easy descent. As you both look back to see if you were followed, Miles appears to be gone again.
It is very quiet....
The darkness of the tunnel caused Miles to miscalculate his thrust into Azeban's kidney!
"Blasted drawb! You probably don't even have organs to stab!" He positioned himself for combat. "You've really upset Master this time..."
Master...?
Miles's attempt at a surprise attack was met only with an evil sound of laughter. "Foolish boy." Azeban replies, his dark eyes glowing. "I could have destroyed you at any time." As if to prove a point, Azeban reaches out and grabs hold of Miles's wrist. Though there was no change in demeanor from Azeban, it only took a couple of seconds for Miles to begin pulling away, before horrible marks broke out over his body. By the time Miles manages to pull free, the damage has already been done. Breaking out in a horrible smile, Azeban admires the damage. "The only Master is Death, and he comes swiftly for traitorous dogs."
Sydney was ready as she knew escape would be extremely difficult after all no one boasted of making it out alive. That the Orc was willing to take someone else with him and insisted on searching the facility for some stuff only proved his foolishness. She had been patient for long enought.
In one swift move the drew her weapon, casted a spell and attacked the human
Round 1
+
Carroc stays hidden where he is...watching, listening, and smelling the breeze.
Drake falls back behind the trap and then activates his defensive focus, which regains all my expended maneuvers and increases my threat range to 10 ft until the start of my next turn.
Good idea Sky...keep em coming. And whatever you two numbskulls do, stay behind me!
"Numbskull, eh!? Without me, you two pissers wouldn't have even gotten into this tomb! Speaking of which...". The rogue pivots her feet and gallops to the door behind the group, which leads into the next room. "... I'll have my way with this lock and you two numbskulls can hack great-grandma-Hyperior to pieces."
Two zombies shuffle forward. One is making it's way through the free space adjacent to the pressure plate. The other one, a female, looks as if her ungraceful walk might cause her to hit the plate.
"I think you got them covered, brother." Says Sky as he raises his rifle and fires a deafening shot at a zombie still making its way down the stairs. The bullet hit the skull, sending chunks of flesh and dust from demolished bone flying through the air.
Three more zombies shuffle toward the stairs; their mouths chomping at the air, longing for your flesh.
Prissy Dru, don't dish it out if you cant take it, sweetheart.
Scything Strike!
Same attack roll applies to both targets
You spent the rest of the day in their library. Scrolls and books saturate the shelves, but the knowledge contained within them is nothing compared to the information contained in the Nexus. At incredibly fast speeds, the Nexus provides a reservoir of knowledge; an ethereal storage unit of all the information Eridani society has attained to date. However, they refer to it and protect it as if it was an entity, and access to it is strictly limited.
The library is broken off in many sections that are cut out by stone walls. Around the corner to your left, you see a light. The shadows are moving, which means the source is mobile. Revealing itself in the same room as you, the source of light appears to look like a flying star. You can't help but feel you are being watched as it remains suspended in the air for a few moments. Shortly after, it continues toward another section and leaves you alone.
You try to access the Nexus, but are only able to visit training simulations and other information pertaining to your profession as a magus marine. All other requests are denied.
With the few hours you have to spare, you dug into some of their books. One in particular caught your eye. All of the books are written in Draconic, but being practiced, you make out the title "Lavecia Light".
It is hard to determine the context of the book, but you believe it to be philosophical literature. The author preaches about many things, namely the future of the Eridani. To a human, the tone may seem neurotic or obsessive as the author commands the adoption of specific lifestyles for their kind. The author wanted to see his kind reach the pinnacle of their form, believing through self-perfection they will quite literally exist on a different level of reality. The author also seems very disdainful toward Nerul as it is; thoroughly complaining about the limitations of its physics and denizens. You do not know for sure what the context is exactly, but it seems the information in this book correlates well with the possible motivations for the giants' invasion, and perhaps an insight into their general outlook on life.
You decide to bring the book and two others, titled “Atma Unfurled” and “Properties of the Gift”, back with you to your house in the Pristine Village. As you go to exit, the flying light races toward you and halts right in front of your face. Its light blinded you but you kept calm. After a few moments, it trailed off again, leaving you alone. You exit the library without a fuss.
With the insight provided by the island, you find your way to the Pristine Village. The architecture and landscape is very different compared to what you have seen. It seems it is more catered to humans than Eridani. Your house is modest in size but beautiful in architecture. It's as if they, or their automatons, constructed your home according to your aesthetic preferences. Once inside, you found the interior is fully stocked with dragontech appliances and functions. The house resonates with a certain essence; the technology within it gave it a certain 'life'. The lights dimmed upon your entry to the specific level you desired at that point, and the air seemed to fit a perfect memory of home. Despite the Eridani’s martial culture, they seemed to appreciate the holistic values of life as well, and all of it is achieved with their dragontech.
There were still some things left untouched by technology. Though they provided you with a food dispenser , they also installed a kitchen. Maybe they realize that humans sometimes like to cook their own food just for the sake of cooking, among other “chores”.
You enjoyed a nice meal you prepared and went off to bed shortly after. Despite the stimulating day, you easily fell asleep.
The next day you met with the Zorashti. Their government building is large and spacious with no seating. It is only a large stone dome with similar engravings to the ones in the Temple. Behind where the Zorashti stood, there is an unfamiliar graving that reaches from the floor to the ceiling. It appears to be a humanoid, similar to a human but more slender and with pointy ears. In its hands is a large spear; its blade pointing upwards and stabbing a fearsome dragon in its underarm. The humanoid figure is engraved with wings and reptilian armor, similar to that of the Deoxul.
"Approach, shyka," says the Eridani you delivered the stone to. The eight other giants stood as still as statues, their faces and bodies covered in robes, each one being unique from another. The one that spoke is still naked. "There is no return from Shyka. Your life will end as a Shyka. As an appendage of the Zorashti, your will is ours." He grabbed a bowl from a stone table behind him. He anointed you, which is something they have never done in the past. They show no concern for your clothing or comfort as the nude giant lathers you in oil . The Zorashti begin humming a prayer; their grinding voices sent vibrations through the floor and walls.
The nude one steps forward again while the eight others continue to pray, ”Do you know why we pray?”. You have never been asked a question by the Eridani. They seldom display any sort of inquisitiveness, and rhetorical questions are certainly a waste of time to them. But this one seems to have more of an affinity to humans.
To answer his question, you shake your head no. ”We pray for survival, shyka. We pray for ascension. When humans pray, they humble themselves to their gods. They submit. It is a fact of nature that subservient individuals will always follow the visionaries of a species. We have observed this behavior in all of your tribes. It is something we struggle to understand. When we pray, we do not humble ourselves to Dragon. We become them. To see what they see eliminates subservience. Once the mind of Dragon is harnessed, only one ambition is apparent – “. Just then, a loud explosion is heard outside! The giants barely react to the commotion as more explosions are heard. Your instinct is to act but you waited for their response.
The Zorashti seem to be entranced, as if they are concentrating on something. The nude Eridani regains his awareness turns his attention toward you. ”Continue gaining the trust of the insurgents. This is our only will thus far." With barely a gesture from the giant, you are surrounded by light that blinds your vision. Once it dims and your eyes adjust, you immediately feel the lack of comforts provided by Selest; the heavenly floating fortress is not even seen in the sky. An extremely brisk chill bites your face, but the snow is gentle. You are surrounded by conifers and you appear to be along a mountain trail. An obvious firelight dances on some boulders a short way down the trail nearby a stone cairn. To your surprise, you are dressed appropriately for the weather, clad in fur with studded leather and a thick black-fur cloak with a hood. You are also provided with your bow and other personal affects.
It seemed the faerie’s prophecy was taking much longer than you thought . But suddenly, you see a flash of white light illuminate the pines, though you could not see the source due to the large boulders that are sheltering you from the wind and keeping the heat from escaping. After a few moments, you think you hear footsteps in the snow walking down the hill.
With great east, your oversized sword's weight coupled with your strength cleaved the two zombies horizontally, dropping their top halves to the ground and crushing their bottom halves below. Their bodies are as dry as scorched wheat.
Sky quickly reloads and fires another shot, resulting in another meatplosion . By that time Dru picks the lock, but she leaves the door shut until the undead in this room are cleared. Wouldn't want to face another trap, or worse yet, another room full of them.
”Brilliant.” Drucilla compliments herself. She springs to her feet and pivots again on her heels as if she were being rewound. Dru is now behind you. ”All set, ladies. I see you two have made quite a mess in just 10 seconds.” The rogue draws her dark-steel cutlass, “The Black Wave”, and twirls it with her fingers playfully as she hums a cheerful tune; as if the zombies were mere butterflies. It sounds like she's singing one of her chanteys.
The undead seem to grow aggravated. Three of them charge at alarming speeds, one for each of you. One's trajectory is right in the path of the pressure plate . He steps on it but is able to dodge the darts. However, he provokes an attack from both you and Sky .
You both simultaneously strike the dart-dodger has he lunges toward Dru. You feel bone dust splash in your face as the zombie broke to pieces between you two.
The other two zombies focus their attention just on Drake and charge him.
Their slashes effortlessly bounce off of your armor. Seriously, this job is not worth 10,000g.
Miles goes for another strike on Azeban...
PASS
You feel your insides tingle and you vision went blurry for a brief moment. You immediately respond to the effects with mettle and shake off whatever was causing the effects.
Miles's eyes nearly pop out of his head as he witnesses every wound he has ever had come back to life. He nearly fainted when he saw exposed bone through a deep cut on his forearm. He screamed in pain and you think you could hear him beg for his life among the screeching. He may have even said sorry.
Then suddenly, his neck splits open as if he were struck by an invisible razor. You look behind you to see Sydney standing there in a confident stance, as if she had nothing to do with it. Luckily you were not wearing your normal clothes, because she certainly made a mess of your prison rags.
You drop Miles to the ground as a shredded mess.
Though the threat was gone, his crying may have attracted the attention of the guards. Before turning to rush toward the exit, you hear heavy feat shuffling toward you. Appearing into the light is the homeless man that gave Sydney her bracelet.
"I have a message for you, sister." He extends his dirty hand toward Sydney. In his palm is a small brittle mineral. You know it as mica, but the Sisterhood augments them to contain temporary messages. The homeless man moves back into the darkness*.
You two continue to move toward the exit as Sydney pulls out her tuning fork and breaks the mineral between the prongs. The messages are usually unclear so they are concise and purposeful, but most of all, discrete. The message resonates between the prongs and into your ears.
"Cache on shore. Orc to Dulles**"
You both finally make your way to the main drain that dumps water into the sea. The rocky shores take a while to climb down but provide substantial footing, albeit awkward. Near a small rowboat is a medium sized sack.