Destroy it and seal the gate. Otherwise there will be no end of exotic powers that can wander through and infest this world. Though, these are great powers that arrive on Athas. If we do not succeed, the time of we native humanoids may be short.
The ancient kreen warrior never witnessed the effects of this enchantment, but, if the troglodyte Troodon is correct, then its presence certainly explains the curious absence of organic guardians of the tombs. The Six Fingers of the Red God marched a veritable army of soulless beasts and golems into the sepulchre during its lengthy construction.
This revelation also suggests that the tortured spirits of the elves whose sacrifice solemnized the complex's completion still subsist within its depths.
Amunet-Ra listens to Trodoon, but is still skeptical. The nature of the place haunts her.
She looks at Rilkus and the others.
Leaving this place with empty hands is not a good idea. We should get what we come for and try to avert any thread to my tribe on the way there if we can.
She then looks at Ri'Kli'Klek.
What do you know about this? Did your people not only slaughter and sacrifice mine, but also were in league with those who brought the damned magic to our world, nearly destroyed it and are responsible for the misery of our lives?
Jimbli nods as he wipes crocodile blood from his face. "I wouldn't mind pressing on. Things are getting pretty interesting here... and if we were to leave now what's-his-name would've died in vain, right?"
Right! Listen to the halfling. Should they come back as undead, we just slay them again. This place is in dire need of some dusting out anyway.
”Far be it for us to disregard the sacrifice of what’s-his-name. If this is what we must do, then let us get on with it.”
Hamza shakes his head at some of his companions. "You must have missed it when Troodor said those we have slain will come back much more powerful than when they were alive. Perhaps we would be capable of slaying them regardless, perhaps not. I, for one, would prefer not take such a gamble."
Amunet-Ra looks the newcomer up and down.
Well, you did only join us recently and inside this toomb. Tell me why did you search us out again? Of course you don't know why we are here at all, do you? So far we don't even know if he spoke the truth, but if so, it is all the more important to witness this and gather some information.
Hamza blinks in stunned surprise. "Wait. You're telling me you *want* to risk our defeated foes coming back to life, much more powerful than before? Is what you seek in these *tombs* so important that you would risk very possible death? One of your number already fell, to 'weaker' versions than what will supposedly come for us if we stay here in this hall of death."
She then looks at Ri'Kli'Klek.
What do you know about this? Did your people not only slaughter and sacrifice mine, but also were in league with those who brought the damned magic to our world, nearly destroyed it and are responsible for the misery of our lives?
Ri'Kli'Klek has finally mastered himself after the... unfortunate spell of nausea he had experienced when Amunet-Ra demands her answers.
"I was not a trusted enough servant to know the specifics of the defenses of the tomb. But the Red God used many of the dead but walking, and many automatons as well."
He pauses a moment, his insectoid expression unreadable. "It is true that many elves were sacrificed here. The rage of their death in their spirits is likely part of the power of the rising of the dead here."
He pauses again. "The Red God did... make alliance with the Burners of Stone, it is true. It is from this and from his correspondence with Rajaat that he gained such power of defilement."
He turns his head slightly. "If the tomb is awakening it must be put to rest, for the Six Fingers' power is sufficient to make of the world a waste. If this place is to have a dead that walks of great power, it may be for the best if we are to enter the tombs where it will not see us when it arises."
Jimbli shrugs looking toward Amunet-Ra "Any idea where what you seek may lie?" He is suddenly next to Hamza peering at him with a skeptical eye "Did he say.. much more?", then appears in front of Troodor "Was that more powerful or much more? Have you faced any of these revived beings? Are you perhaps just trying to convince us to leave?" He shakes an accusatory finger toward the troglodyte, but then relaxes... "If so, I commend you. A defeated guardian still scaring off the invaders...."
Jimbli then, hearing the thri-kreen, stops and turns to listen. "Where it will not see us? Another entrance?"
Rokan listens to the two sides, but doesn't feel anywhere near a logical conclusion.
It is true further delving would be a gamble. However, from all we've learned it appears that supreme powers are afoot that could end our races, whic means there would be little or no life to retain. The only reason to retreat from an opportunity to put this to end would be if we knew of powers greater than ourselves. Even if we do, I doubt they would be aligned with us or available in short time.
He see seems rarely exasperated at their lack of options.
Unless all that we have experienced is a great illusion, or dream from which we shall soon awake, then continuing on seems the best option.
"Regardless of if you wish to continue further into this tomb or not, I think we can all agree that if this dreaded place has the power to reanimate those who fall within its confines, that standing around dead bodies is a bad idea, yes?"
”Aye. From what I know, somewhere in these ruins is the secret to stopping the bleeding of this dying world. And what’s happening now in this tomb will make Athas finally bleed out. I’m willing to die to stop that.”
[dice=Sense Motive]1d20 + 15
Amunet-Ra listens to Trodoon, but is still skeptical. The nature of the place haunts her.[dice=kn:religion]1d20 + 16
[dice=kn:planes]1d20 + 16
She looks at Rilkus and the others.
Leaving this place with empty hands is not a good idea. We should get what we come for and try to avert any thread to my tribe on the way there if we can.She then looks at Ri'Kli'Klek.
What do you know about this? Did your people not only slaughter and sacrifice mine, but also were in league with those who brought the damned magic to our world, nearly destroyed it and are responsible for the misery of our lives?
The troglodyte appears to be genuine in his assertions.
The fabled "hall of whispers," the Dsja-Dsjahobentresphu-Senet, lies within the home camp of the Serpent Singer tribe. It is the archive of the Dreadseers, where, among their other records, are curious tabelets of a smoky stone that contain the recollections of previous generations. Among this archive are memories of an ancient race known as the Stoneburners that brought defiling magic to Athas, and waged a war in the heavens against their enemies, the Glassweavers, and their halfling servants. When they had been brought low, some of the malevolent Stoneburners clung to life by removing their consciousnesses into metal pyramids, and these were lost in a demiplane of endless mazes created to imprison these malevolent beings. These entities became known as the Fathers of the Maze, and it appears as if one has been released from its ages long imprisonment.
Jimbli shrugs looking toward Amunet-Ra "Any idea where what you seek may lie?" He is suddenly next to Hamza peering at him with a skeptical eye "Did he say.. much more?", then appears in front of Troodor "Was that more powerful or much more? Have you faced any of these revived beings? Are you perhaps just trying to convince us to leave?" He shakes an accusatory finger toward the troglodyte, but then relaxes... "If so, I commend you. A defeated guardian still scaring off the invaders...."
Jimbli then, hearing the thri-kreen, stops and turns to listen. "Where it will not see us? Another entrance?"
The troglodyte replies solemnly,
"Much more, stranger."
"We have only understood this effect from reading the minds of ones who serve the lord of the diamond mines, and have been converted by the minions of the Ochre Dome to the service of the Maze Father."
The entire complex is then shaken by a massive seismic concussion, as if the mountain above were collapsing in upon itself. Fervid vibrations rush through the bodies of all assembled in the main causeway, shaking them to their very bones. This terrifying manifestation is accompanied by loud crashing sound at either end of the long arcade, and then... silence.
Leonidas touches the ring that he picked up outside.
"Deeper still one must travel,
Many mysteries to unravel.
To thwart those of evil mind,
Fire burns those left behind."
"That's not a bad idea. Shall we set these corpses on fire?"
Yes, very good point. It was also just occurring to me, if the force at play can set fallen foes against us again, we'd best dispose of them.
”Wait for me. I will see if it is safe.”
Rilkus’s form shimmered as he became more and more inhuman, until he looked like little more than a statue. The dwarf stepped into the wall...and vanished within.
”Wait for me. I will see if it is safe.”
Rilkus’s form shimmered as he became more and more inhuman, until he looked like little more than a statue. The dwarf stepped into the wall...and vanished within.
"That's not a bad idea. Shall we set these corpses on fire?"
Leonidas touches the ring that he picked up outside.
"Deeper still one must travel,
Many mysteries to unravel.
To thwart those of evil mind,
Fire burns those left behind."
Suddenly, a strange sensation seizes the edge of Cae's attention, as if another mind were grasping at his own waking attention.
And... it is not unfamiliar...
Images arise, unbidden, to the witch's mind's eye, of a shadowed-court deep within some colossal monolith. A convocation of reptilian entities, with eight legs, huddle in hushed silence around a metal pyramid suspended in the air between their number. The strange object emits an audible pulse, and its worshipers respond with displays of sheer rapture.
On the periphery of this strange assembly, the familiar form of a young woman, his erstwhile mistress Arisone of House Nicephorus, looks on with a steely gaze, her firm expression matched by that of the half giant standing beside her. This latter, a species of guardian genie summoned by the ancestral collective unconsciousness of the House Nicephorus, is known as Raxus. The lady Arsione's determination is equaled by Raxus' horror at the current disposition of his ward and her mother.
Cae feels Raxus' spirit reaching out to him, desperate for him to relieve Arsione of her hold upon his loyalty. He begs Cae to call the half-giant to him, in the dungeons of the Mantis Priests.
There, perhaps, he may serve again with honor.
Prior to any burning of bodies, Hamza searches first Archillobator and then Paralitian for anything useful.
Prior to any burning of bodies, Hamza searches first Archillobator and then Paralitian for anything useful.
Archillobator's body holds a dozen vials, a baton, a battle axe, six javelins, a belt, a headband, a golden crown embossed with precious gems, and a curious-looking stone.
Paralitian's body holds a torch, a set of tools, a small metallic triangle that appears to be a religious symbol, 95 gp worth of chitin pieces, a three dozen vials attached to a belt, a shirt of chain mail made of links fashioned from a dark rock ore, a short sword, a pair of daggers, a cloak, a ring, and amulet, bracers, and a highly ornamented spear.
It would appear that literally moving through solid stone made it harder than normal to see and hear clearly.
[dice=Perception]1d20+15
It would appear that literally moving through solid stone made it harder than normal to see and hear clearly.
As Rilkus approaches the outer gates of the tomb, it quickly becomes apparent that its yawning aperture has been sealed by a thick pane of glass that has descended from the ceiling. The way out is currently shut to those who, unlike Rilkus, are able to walk only through air.
Making fire and burning the bodies is a good idea. You're resourceful in ideas after all. Can someone provide that fire though?
As the earth shakes, Amunet-Ra stays calm.
Probably only the doors closing. Interesting if doors close at both ends of this corridor.
Just as Cae is about to volunteer his help with the fire, he falls to one knee, using his staff for support. Different expressions come over his face in the next several moments: awe, hope, and confusion are some of them. At first, he resists the call, unwilling to deprive his beloved of her guardian. However, the ancestral spirits he carries hammer at his psyche, imploring him to accept Raxus' plea. In the end, he gives in, mentally reaching out for the giant in order to quiet them.
The dust and sand swirled and took shape, larger and larger until it formed a man on one knee in the same position as Cae.
The man stood, the dust and grit flaking off him like a thin shell. He was twelve feet tall and massively muscled. His long hair was dreaded back into black cables that hung nearly to his waist. Ropes that looked like they were made from his own hair were wound around his forearms like bracers. Another braid of dreaded hair served as a belt. It held up a patchwork leather sarong that had clearly been stitched back together many times.
His skin was the color and texture of boiled leather and marred by many deep red scars from blades and claws. Another length of rope was folded in half and draped across the back of his neck. In the middle, hanging down his chest, was a large metal ring wrapped in leather. At each end, hanging on the other side of his chest, were a pair of wicked hatchet-hooks that looked like they were made from the mandibles of some great insect.
His red eyes looked down on the group, taking each of them in slowly, like some kind of judging monolith.
"I am Raxus." he rumbled in a voice like distant thunder. "I serve."
The giant in front of you is the spitting image of a famous gladiator called The Beast of Tyr. He's memorable because his carved bust isn't in the Hall of Champions. It's in the Hall of Beasts alongside statues of famous monsters.
[Spoiler=Rilkus: In the Walls]
As the dwarf moves closer to the door, a pair of vaguely humanoid creatures made of rock manifest in Rilkus' presence, blocking the way to the outside world -- any movement in that direction would involve moving through these creatures, and it appears as if they will not willingly permit his passage.
Even standing to his full height, Leonidas is no match for the giant's size. And yet, he addresses the new arrival with authority and concern.
"Brother Raxus, why are you here,
When the Mistress needs you near?"
The dust and sand swirled and took shape, larger and larger until it formed a man on one knee in the same position as Cae.
The man stood, the dust and grit flaking off him like a thin shell. He was twelve feet tall and massively muscled. His long hair was dreaded back into black cables that hung nearly to his waist. Ropes that looked like they were made from his own hair were wound around his forearms like bracers. Another braid of dreaded hair served as a belt. It held up a patchwork leather sarong that had clearly been stitched back together many times.
His skin was the color and texture of boiled leather and marred by many deep red scars from blades and claws. Another length of rope was folded in half and draped across the back of his neck. In the middle, hanging down his chest, was a large metal ring wrapped in leather. At each end, hanging on the other side of his chest, were a pair of wicked hatchet-hooks that looked like they were made from the mandibles of some great insect.
His red eyes looked down on the group, taking each of them in slowly, like some kind of judging monolith.
"I am Raxus." he rumbled in a voice like distant thunder. "I serve."
** spoiler omitted **
Though a faithful servant of mistress Arsione of House Nicephorus of Balic throughout her young life, the recent, disreputable actions of the young lady and her mother have incited a crisis of conscious in her servant of heretofore unwavering fidelity. Members of a faction of Balic's Veiled Alliance known as the Pistoi Angeleollenikoi, the 'Stalwart' or 'Faithful' in the common Trade Tongue of the Tablelands, their motives and methods have increasingly diverged from those of their confederates. Determined to directly oppose the tyrant Adrophinus, the members of the Pistoi Angeleollenikoi have secretly cultivated their own power within a camp hidden deep amid the ruins of ancient Kalidnay. There, in concert with mysterious powers, they have begun to breed, raise, and circulate the abominations known as the beetles of Shafqat-Rekhta, a genus of insects whose presence dampens nearby psionic and magical abilities. The Pistoi Angeleollenikoi hope to employ these creatures in a violent coup against the Tyrant of Balic. Their machinations have intertwined their operations with those of enigmatic visitors from another world, who called themselves the 'slassans'. These latter have arrived recently from another world, and established themselves in a massive domed city beneath the ruins of the lost city-state. Their corruption is evident to Raxus, and he can no longer abide his mistress' role as the chief emissary of the Pistoi Angeleollenikoi to the slassans.
Mythic Ability: Animals, elementals, fey, and plants are magically able to understand you when you speak Druidic, as if you were using speak with animals or tongues. If speaking to creatures of different types at the same time, you can allow all of them to understand you or speak understandably to just one type at a time. For example, if speaking to a group of animals and fey, you can make yourself understandable to all of them, just to the animals, or just to the fey
”Brothers, I humbly ask for permission to pass...both for myself and my comrades. Would you grant such a boon to this druid?”
[dice=Diplomacy]1d20+15
”Brothers, I humbly ask for permission to pass...both for myself and my comrades. Would you grant such a boon to this druid?”
Mythic Ability: Animals, elementals, fey, and plants are magically able to understand you when you speak Druidic, as if you were using speak with animals or tongues. If speaking to creatures of different types at the same time, you can allow all of them to understand you or speak understandably to just one type at a time. For example, if speaking to a group of animals and fey, you can make yourself understandable to all of them, just to the animals, or just to the fey
Raxus spoke with careful gravity. "Mistress Arsione has fallen from her purpose and taken many with her. You remain true. I called. You answered. You are the master now."
** spoiler omitted **
”Please. It is of great import. I am sworn to heal Athas. Our world is dying. The planes are dying. I believe that in this city is the secret to reversing defiler effects on the land. Allowing us passage may bring us one step closer to that.”
** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **
The pair of rock-like beings speak in halting tones within the dwarf's mind,
"You may pass, brother, and then proceed to disperse.
Amunet-Ra watches speechless as Rilkus disappears in the wall...
Then nods as Cae is about to set fire to the corpses.
The sudden appearance of another newcomer startles her too much though.
What kind of dark magic is this? How can you conjure up someone? Where does he come from? And who exactly is this? A servant of yours? There's too much magic going on here!
Rilkus thanked the elementals, doing so with reverence. Everything he did, he did for Athas. They were manifestations of everything he believed in. Once they had made way he peered through to the other side.
Everyone in the party can hear Rilkus’ voice in their heads
”Comrades, the way is clear. I will be opening a door in the stone momentarily. I urge ye all to enter quickly. I can shut it behind us, so that when the tomb guardians come they will not find us and will lose our scent
Rilkus thanked the elementals, doing so with reverence. Everything he did, he did for Athas. They were manifestations of everything he believed in. Once they had made way he peered through to the other side.
** spoiler omitted **