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The cacklings of 'Grallak Kur' circle the air around Eben's actual position, like he was a musician playing an instrument of pure madness. Any fear he felt before has been subsumed by the thrill of potentially pulling off the most epic of cons... manipulating the thoughts and actions of a god. "Ah-heh-heh-heh. Heed not the mewlings of the so-called Wormgod. He seeks to burrow beneath your confidence and cause you to fall through the pit of your own divinity. That is what worms do. But it is not the living that need fear worms...they feast solely upon the flesh of the dead. No, the Wormgod is but a mortal man who managed to sip from the cup of creation and believes himself greater than he has a right. You, though... you are bound from the sinews of three true gods. When you rise, all the might of the heavens is yours to command! What can worms do next to that, but writhe at your feet?" With his reassurances in place, he drops the conciliatory tone from his voice and instead moves toward one of...cozening, almost. "Even now, he cannot act against you directly, you must know this! No, he must act through intermediaries. To prevent our communion here, he has placed guards above, devil-women, to keep your faithful from groveling before you. It took all our art to slip past them. Perhaps, though... perhaps you could show the worm what a true god can achieve. If you were to crush out his Slithering Angels, surely it would send a message, eh, oh lord? Ah-heh-heh-heh. Perhaps then the wormy one would learn not to interfere with the dreams of his betters..."
There is a long pause.
The chamber begins to shake violently. Dust pours from the ceiling as ominous cracks emerge.
The "Overgod" sounds almost questioning towards 'Grallak Kur'.
Common magical treasures?
Cuetzpalli starts looking around for treasure.
Cuetzpalli cautiously slides around the wall of the chamber to stand behind the Overgod, staying as far away from it physically as possible. Once he's behind it, he waits to see if it says or does anything. If it doesn't appear to notice or care, he examines the crack more closely while the others talk.
"Right!" says Farrukh. "Wait, I mean, uh, no. That would not be befitting of a god, to slaughter his most faithful."
Tanith watches in surprise as the creature reacts to Eben's ploy. "Isn't this a huge gamble?"
"It is. I think Eben might be getting a little ahead of himself," Astraden says. "Or three big heads of Ebonself." She begins a chaotic series of hand signals, trying to catch Farrukh's attention, and unsure which direction Eben is even looking.
"Ah-heh-heh-heh. A god's behavior is what that god wills it to be, no more, no less! But alas, I am already dead, lord. I was murdered by the same Kordite brute that slew the Faceless One. Only my strong connection to the spirit world alowed me to linger on unseen like this. But unseen, I see more than ever." This last comment is actually directed up and away from the Ebon Aspect and towards the wild gesticulations of Astraden. "But some things I see now, I choose not to see."
"So, it is true, oh Trinity of the Infinite, that you might slay Theldrick, now... and perhaps that might bring you a moment of pleasure. But where would it leave you after? As tiresomely single minded as he is, he remains the last of your priesthood left to carry forth your word. As limited in imagination as he is, as foul of odor, as unpleasant of visage... he alone can rebuild the faith. And without the faith of your minions, nourishing you upon your rise, will you even have the strength to remain ascendant for long? Perhaps that is how the wormgod seeks to gain a victory..." More extremely inappropriate cackling. "More undermining. I fear his agents have been at work. Tell me, what is this 'bird' you speak of?"
Zalamandra is still massaging her forehead. "He keeps pulling cards, even when he's already winning . . . this is just like the Moonmeadow-three dragon ante fiasco. But losing a potential customer is not the greatest risk in this situation." She climbs up into the vertical shaft, taking cover.
There is another pause. The rumbling pauses a moment.
There is an unmistakable note of smug pride in the god's tone.
Astraden seems to consider the statue's explanation for a time. "A bird used as a messenger . . . It sounds like we're talking about a druid. The Bronzewooders always struck me as a little nihilist, to be honest. It could be someone like them interested in avolakia shit."
Cuetzpalli sidles over to Astraden, and leans down to whisper in her ear. "Hey, there's a funny looking crack in the wall back there. I think there's a door with the treasure he was talking about behind it. Maybe."
Carina is still deathly quiet, knowing better than to interrupt Eben when he's on a deception roll.
"Whoa, cool," Astraden's eyebrows raise. "Don't suppose the door opens inward?"
"Whoa, cool," Astraden's eyebrows raise. "Don't suppose the door opens inward?"
"No clue, babe. Maybe you should check it out, this is more your thing. Or Farrukh."
"No, my lord, none could ever call you 'cheap'. It will cost the world much when you rise, to be sure! ah he he he/. Do Theldrick's feet now trod upon the dust that was this deceitful bird's feathers and flesh? What a foolish creature, to think you would speak of the..." 'Grallak Kur's' voice pauses a moment, as Eben tries to remember the pronunciation of the only very recently described creatures... "Avolakia's scriptures to them. Such knowledge is only for your true faithful, such as Theldrick or myself..."
Astraden nods and disappears, after a short prayer. A moment later, the most acute of listeners can hear a whispering voice around where Zalamandra is standing.
Zalamandra whispers something to Farrukh, crouching to keep at least part of her body covered by the lip of the shaft.
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"No, my lord, none could ever call you 'cheap'. It will cost the world much when you rise, to be sure! ah he he he/. Do Theldrick's feet now trod upon the dust that was this deceitful bird's feathers and flesh? What a foolish creature, to think you would speak of the..." 'Grallak Kur's' voice pauses a moment, as Eben tries to remember the pronunciation of the only very recently described creatures... "Avolakia's scriptures to them. Such knowledge is only for your true faithful, such as Theldrick or myself..."
"You can tell him that there's only like a 31% chance the statue even takes notice, too," Astraden says to Zalamandra, forgetting to whisper.
Farrukh welcomes the opportunity to let Eben do...whatever it is he's trying to do.
He moves over to look and feel at the wall/crack Cuetzpalli is inspecting.
When Eben's voice next speaks up, a lot of GrallaK Kur's insane mirth has vansihed from it, replaced by a palpable stone of disappointment. "...Right, lord. It is gratifying to know these secrets are safe here with you. You certainly could not possibly reveal them to any interested party." Invisibly, he casts his own message cantrip and sends it elsewhere.
There just isn't any kind of door whatsoever. If Farrukh had to guess, the hollow is meant to be accessed either by incorporeality or teleportation.
** spoiler omitted **
Farrukh shrugs and whispers back at Cuetzpalli.
"It's a crack in the wall, not a door. I could bust it open, but that sounds dangerous. Unless somebody can squeeze through small cracks like that, this is a bust."
"I can't...Isn't there like teleporty magic or something?"
Astraden sneaks back down to where Cuetzpalli is floating and grabs his and Farrukh's shoulders, pulling them into a huddle. "Actually, I don't think teleportation will help here. You need to have actually seen the place where you teleport, and I don't think Zalamandra has any way to see through walls. I don't think either of us can make a person small, either. But Farrukh, would shaping the stone with magic work?" She passes him a scroll with "BEND ROCKS TO YOUR VERY MIND - IT REALLY WORKS!" written on the outside. (The scroll doesn't appear, though, until it leaves her possession, as she is still invisible.)
She air-walks down behind the statue and tries using the scroll to make an opening.
"She could just peek through the crack...Or that."
Zalamandra doesn't hear the whispered conversation, but she does let out a little scoff when Astraden disappears. "I hope our invisible friends realize that I'm not going to be able to just grab them and teleport if things go south, here," she says to Carina and Tanith (at a conversational volume, so as to reduce the chance the Overgod Overhears). She clenches and unclenches her fist, unconsciously bunching up the edge of her cloak.
When Eben's voice next speaks up, a lot of GrallaK Kur's insane mirth has vanished from it, replaced by a palpable stone of disappointment. "...Right, lord. It is gratifying to know these secrets are safe here with you. You certainly could not possibly reveal them to any interested party."
There is a long pause. Very long. It feels like it goes on for a month or two, in fact. At last, the Overgod speaks.
Behind it, the stone noisily grinds away, revealing a small chamber beyond. A wave of stagnant air hits Astraden, along with the cloying stench of mint. There are four large chests, as well as a large tome resting upon a pedestal.
the statue muses.
The cavern starts to shake.
Astraden's holy mask vibrates in time with the Overgod's hateful, overpowering voice. And it begins to grow hot.
Eben's voice speaks up one more time, now not even trying to imitate the tones of Grallak Kur: "Wait, before you go smiting that vermin, could you expand a little more on who the 'silver weaver' is for us? No? Ah, nevermind. GUYS, LET'S BE ATHEISTS." Eben's call to atheism washes over the ears of those nearby, filling them with renewed vigor in the face of the apparent upcoming divine assault. Almost simultaneously, the sound of a glass chime rings out, as an invisible rod gets an invisible button pressed.
”Speak for yourself!” Tanith laughs as he calls down Kord’s mighty blessing on himself and his companions granting all the presently brandished weapons a pulsing golden aura. ”Let’s see if we can kill this thing before it brings the whole city down around us.”
Cuetzpalli enters his blood rage, and charges the statue. "Die for real you evil bastard!"
Making a hissing sound with her teeth at the heat of her mask, Astraden bows her head a moment in prayer.
She then looks up and shouts, "Yes, atheists!" and tosses her holy symbol to Farrukh. "Think fast!" The silver mask turns visible at a distance of about 3 feet from Farrukh's face, moving at moderately high velocity.
She draws one of her swords and says gravely, "Anti-god, don't forgive me for what I'm about to not do."
Farrukh catches the thrown mask and quickly drops it again.
"Is it going to explode or something?" he wonders, but doesn't dwell on it.
Conveniently close to the Overgod, Farrukh wastes little time in trying to cut it to pieces.
Zalamandra gasps, then shouts down, "You two need to get the hell out of there! Grin, where'd you get off to?"
She flies down a little ways and inscribed a rune in the air, saying, "Förhasta!" Cuetzpalli, Tanith, and Carina all feel the effects of time-altering magic settling over them.
Eben's voice speaks up one more time, now not even trying to imitate the tones of Grallak Kur: "Wait, before you go smiting that vermin, could you expand a little more on who the 'silver weaver' is for us? No? Ah, nevermind. GUYS, LET'S BE ATHEISTS."
As Eben's spell washes over the Overgod, something curious happens: Its one green eye flashes a sickly shade of lavender. And again, as Astraden's prayer meets the statue's vast form, the eye seems to sparkle with brilliant violet energies.
And Eben's form is consumed in violet fire.
Cuetzpalli charges the Overgod, as the stone shell around the titanic being cracks away, revealing a form that is... like an unfinished being, a boiled egg cracked too soon. It releases a roar and receives the strike of Kelmarchen with savage, animalistic welcome. The holy blade cleaves through its monstrous form, and ichor sprays out everywhere, black and roiling like oil.
The being-that-calls-itself-a-god seems to look back at Farrukh, though it's hard to tell if it truly 'sees' him. It seems almost offended, and there is a striking air of contempt in its gaze.
The Overgod begins to shake in rage. It lets out another roar that turns into a monkey-like scream as its three hideous claws shift between insectile, raptor-like, and stranger forms. Its jaw unhinges as spider's mandibles burst from the roof of its maw, and it lunges for Cuetzpalli even as its form continues to shift and morph between thousands of bestial forms—and to heal its wounds.
At the same time, it begins to drum its feet—a steady, military march. Cracks streak up the walls and across the floor, including one terrible chasm in the floor which might be inconvenient if everyone in the room wasn't flying. It stops marching after only a few seconds, but Farrukh and Astraden see sigils on the rocks around them glowing crimson as though burning hot.
A moment later, with a terrible crack, a flail of glowing stone—its spines studded with steaming coals—breaks out from the rocks and lunges for Astraden.
As the Overgod's attacks slow, the rapid-fire shapeshifting seems to ebb and die to a slower pace, along with the healing. It is left panting, as though its overwhelming assault was difficult for it in some way.
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From behind Zalamandra, Grin whistles. "Shit, man. Is that Erythnul or something? I used to be super into him in my younger days. Had a bloody shrine and everything. Every hobgoblin kid has 'that phase', y'know?"
The disembodied voice keeps rambling over the sounds of combat and screaming. "So, most of my buffs are touchy, and your big sword guy just ran over to what I'm gonna strategically term 'The Bad Side of the Room', so... oh, hey, you don't have a belt, do you?" Carina feels a hand tap her arm. "Big Six, Miss Viera. Gotta look into it."