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Anang cries out in pain as the burning droplets shower him, each leaving a small smoking crater of damage where it hits.
Once the bugs surrounding Solvi go down, Gilian limps back to the main fighters and reaching for Anang with a shaking hand, summons forth more healing energy.
Anang acid infected wounds close as similar but smaller ones open on Gilian's arms.
Solvistania reaches into her reserves and summoning her final bits of energy, conjures a ball of acid, and throws it at one of the smaller bugs.
Once the bugs surrounding Solvi go down, Gilian limps back to the main fighters and reaching for Anang with a shaking hand, summons forth more healing energy.
Anang acid infected wounds close as similar but smaller ones open on Gilian's arms.
Chops sheathes Liberation and pauses next to Gillian gripping her shoulder in a loose grip. "Stop! You can't kill yourself and save us. This time, you are most effect as a warrior." Chops then takes position next to her and shifts tactics to defensively aid her.
Seeing Ragnar attacked again, Ilona unleashes a vicious swing coupled with a wordless yell of absolute fury.
"Gillian!If you die I swear I'll make you pay! I get it, now stay ALIVE TO HEAL US LATER!"
The last of the smaller brood dead at Ilona's hands, Ragnar grits his teeth and sways on his feet. "Thank you."
He rounds on the massive thing protruding from the ground.
"Bigger. Stronger. Easier to hit." Ragnar surges toward the monster with a growl and slams his open hand upon it.
A strange blue white energy flows forth form him, followed a moment later by a dark red energy bursting from the massive insect, surging up Ragnar's arm and into his body. His eyes flare with power and his wounds visibly close. He glowers with menace.
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Stone trembles once more and hunched shapes rise from the walls and the floor of the tunnel. You can even now hear the dripping of water from the stalactites into the cave lake, but the tunnel exit never seemed so far and unreachable. These last few hours were filled with strife and blood and you are weary and exhausted. Your arms and legs feel like lead and your vision is blurry. For a moment you pause to take a look at approaching tide of devil-bugs, streaming at you through stone and you feel hopelessness crushing your spirits.
Huge parts of ceiling turn to mud and the rain of liquid stone and black acid-spitting bugs showers you. Stone beneath your feat turns to quicksand and you start to sink. It seems like whole stalagmite that you are in is bending. The tunnel floor leans to one side and you loose your balance. Suddenly, the walls break and tide of black underground water surges in and washes you away...
...you lose consciousness... there is nothing more...
...you wake up in the darkness. Absolute darkness. It is as if there is nothing around you. Darkness between the stars must be like this darkness in which you float. Float? Yes, you sense moving - as if you are inside of a thing bubble of air riding on the currents. You reach with your hand and in the darkness you touch some kind of barrier, soft as feathers and almost imperceptibly thin. And that barrier gives just a little beneath your fingers. There i something liquid on the other side. Perhaps water? But water is not that thick... But then you realize - you must be near the bottom of that cavern lake, where there is no light and pressure must be enormous. Wait! Your companions?! Where... There is nothing but the darkness around you...
...suddenly a light in the dark. Three large bright red spots one above the other seem to be watching you. Indifferent intelligence touches your mind and you start to scream... and then you drift away...
...you wake up. You are feeling different than before. Something changed. Darkness around you is now filled with those red spots... they look like eyes... What creature has three eyes one above the other? You are afraid...
"Who are you?" suddenly sounds in your mind. "You have fought the other one who has slain our servant-creatures. What are you? We do not know of your kind?"
Feeling his wounds knitting themselves closed Anang glances round at Gillian. Seeing the strain healing him has put on her, he turns back to the huge bug, determined to finish the fight as quickly as possible.
"Who are you?" suddenly sounds in your mind. "You have fought the other one who has slain our servant-creatures. What are you? We do not know of your kind?
"I am called Ragnar, son of Rogal, of the House of Falon. named Death-Speaker by the great Vigdiri spirit-guides. I fight for those who can no longer, and to avenge those who were never given the chance. Who are you? Where have I been taken?"
"Who are you?" suddenly sounds in your mind. "You have fought the other one who has slain our servant-creatures. What are you? We do not know of your kind?
"The name's Muni, and I don't know who you are or what just happened, but I do know that if you don't get out of my head you're going to be in for some unpleasantness."
Solvistania feels the darkness closing in on her, and feels madness returning to her, as if it had never left her mind. All of her studies, her struggles to form friendship with her fellow Bonebearers, her growing affection for Chops...all were swept away. She screamed silently in her mind, and nothing answered, except the echoes of her failures.
Now, something has called her back to the struggle to stay sane. She feels nothing but fear...yet her mind, while nearly shattered, has not been broken. She gathers her thoughts together, and responds, I am Solvistania. An answer as much a response to herself, as well as for the unseen voice speaking to her.
Whoa! What the f~*% just happened?
"Who are you?" suddenly sounds in your mind. "You have fought the other one who has slain our servant-creatures. What are you? We do not know of your kind?"
Servant creatures? Oh s+@%! What now?
He looks over to Solvistania and whispers, "Durathoin. My name is Durathion. Dwar. Proud dworg of the clan Grumdeknyr"
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Another mind-voice joins the chorus. "Are these creatures intelligent? They do not seem to be. Their genetic makeup is rather primitive."
"True", the other voice answers. "I have sequenced their genome. They seem to be of different species. Some of them do share same markers. Interesting."
"Yes. Lesser forms of life, to be sure. But perhaps - intelligent?"
"I wouldn't go that far..."
"No, I suppose you are right, but... Hmmm... listen to me, lower forms, listen to me very well... if you gives us the answer to one question, you may still retain your existence: Why have we been denied stars?"
Solvistania barely has time to gather the shreds of her sanity before being probed by these alien creatures. She was not sure what happened, but due to the fact she could still think and feel, she thought these creatures had saved all of their lives. For what purpose, she had no clue.
When she heard the question posted by them, her mind raced for the correct answer to the question, knowing her life, all of their lives hinged on the correct answer.
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Solvistania barely has time to gather the shreds of her sanity before being probed by these alien creatures. She was not sure what happened, but due to the fact she could still think and feel, she thought these creatures had saved all of their lives. For what purpose, she had no clue.
When she heard the question posted by them, her mind raced for the correct answer to the question, knowing her life, all of their lives hinged on the correct answer.
Solvistania recalls stories of the fall of Izrador, and the effects this had on the planar travel.
”When the Dark One fell to Aryth, this had the effect of cutting planar access for those trapped here. We term this effect the Veil, and this has caused all access to the stars to be severed.”
"Mistress, where are wee...I am confused...I sense many other minds aroundsss usss...I am scared..."
Why have we been denied stars?"
"I assume you speak of ascending to the heavens. None can. The Dark God's presence denies all. He is trapped, and with him, all of us."
"Who are you?" suddenly sounds in your mind. "You have fought the other one who has slain our servant-creatures. What are you? We do not know of your kind?"
Alone in the dark, Gilian remembers. Dreams of blood and gore come to her: the villagers death at her own mother's hand, all those she lost while fighting against death. The babies and the old ones, those she thought she had saved and those she knew were lost. each and everyone of them left a mark on her soul. "And then, says the voice in her mind, there is all those who fought beside me, Pete, Eyvindr, Sky and Arvinder... Failures, I am so sick of failures... And Lanik, is he still alive? There was no time..."
Behind that voice, a second voice answers "But let's not forgot all those I saved, all those that had a chance to grow, even if their lives were cut short by mother's madness. And Ragnar, Solvistania, Chops, Sorok, Ilona, Anang, and Chops, and Chops again... They are all alive and some is due to me."
"Failures, too many failures" answers the first voice.
Round and round the voices argue in Gilian's mind, driving her up and down, baring her thoughts, her acts under their scrutinizing gaze. As she floats down in the water, a sensation of calm fills her slowly. It comes from her core, from the deeper wells of her mind. It's the thoughts that observe, the thoughts that define her being.
In the silence of her mind, the third voice answers:
"Healer, that's who I am. Not the success or the failures alone, but all of them, together. I'm the one that will not stop trying, whatever the odds. Healer, that's all that matters.
Feet on the ground; Aryth, flow through me.
Sky over my head; Rain, wash the wounds.
Stone to my back; Pebble, lend me strength.
Friends left and right, lead the way.
Healer, that's who I am"
Ilona hears the voice in her head, feels the reactions of her friends, no..her family thier suffering, thier fear, thier love and defiance.
"I am Ilona, warrior, protector, comforter. I am the light the shadow will not dim, I am the shadow of death. I am hope to all those who wish to shake off the darkness, and I am the ebon blade of vengance that hangs over the necks of all those who bring destruction.
We have all suggered at Izrador's hands, and I aim to see him repaid."
She puts the full power of her emotions into her words allowing raw feeling to communicate what her words cannot.
Diplomacy
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"This state is unsustainable. Your god must be made to understand that the spawning time is near. The long sleep has ended and the stars beckon."
"I do think that the said god, whatever that is, does not care about stars. We have sensed something pulling at us. That must be its influence. He must be stopped."
"Yes, but that would require waking the others... or us leaving hatching pools - and that we can not do before the @*!@$% (you can not comprehend the concept) is ready."
"I agree - but something still has to be done. Perhaps these lower-life forms may be of use?"
"But..."
"No, you may not dissect them. I am sensing the surface thoughts of the Great Ancient One. His will is to use these ones. They seem to be somehow connected to the downfall of this god-creature."
"Great Ancient One is awake?!"
"Not yet, but his dreams already warp reality. We must regain the stars before he truly wakes!"
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
Countless affirmatives resonate through the darkness. Your minds shatter in million pieces and reform from the shard - each shard making you scream with pain.
Then there is nothing. Again.
You wake up on the stairs. They seemed to be shaped out of living rock, but not with hammer or chisel. They look like they have been shaped by the natural slow flow of stone - but something like that would take many ages to form.
"Mistress", cries a voice. "You have been absent for such a long time! I have waited. Do you like my stairs? I made them just for you!"
You realize that must be Pebble, Gilian's familiar. How long were you trapped in the dark? You seem rested and your wounds healed. How much time has passed?
You wake up on the stairs. They seemed to be shaped out of living rock, but not with hammer or chisel. They look like they have been shaped by the natural slow flow of stone - but something like that would take many ages to form.
"Mistress", cries a voice. "You have been absent for such a long time! I have waited. Do you like my stairs? I made them just for you!"
You realize that must be Pebble, Gilian's familiar. How long were you trapped in the dark? You seem rested and your wounds healed. How much time has passed?
"This is amazing, Pebble, such a good idea. Do they lead all the way out? And have you seen other people, a dwarf like sorok, a dark haired woman with a bow and other ones? If so how many of them did you sense and how long ago did they pass?"
Ragnar rises to his feet, the ghost-lights brightening and pulling themselves out of the stone. He looks around him for danger, holds a hand to Ilona to help her to her feet and nods to empty air.
"No. No, I am fine. Unharmed. It appears we all are. Have you seen Lanik? The Gnome we rescued?"
Solvistania struggles to her feet, and after a moment leans on Chops for support. Despite her wounds being healed, she feels a sense of mental fatigue, as the contact with the strange hive mind was draining to her.
"I feel like we have lost precious time in our time away. However, we should not squander this opportunity to escape while our enemies search futily for us."
Holding on to Solvistania by the waist, he notices how small and fragile she seems. But he also feels the warmth coming off of her. It stirs a warm feeling in him as well as a tingly feeling. Something he hasn't felt in years. He gives her an affectionate squeeze. Dworg her hair smells good!
"Uh. How long have we been down here? And more importantly, what the hell was just talking to us and....most importantly, why do they think we will play a role in the fall of the Dark God?"
Chops shakes his head for a second.
"And if we somehow deal with the Dark One, is the door open for something worse?
Solvistania allows Chops to hold her...wait he had mentioned his true name to her...to the hive creatures. She recalled it with perfect clarity: Durathoin. My name is Durathion. Dwar of Clan Grumdeknyr.. Never more would he be Chops, not to her.
She looks into his eyes and feels his warmth traveling through her body. It was very pleasant. ["I wish I had answers to your questions, Durathion, however, their nature eludes me as well. Their purpose would seem to be compatible with ours, as we are trying to overthrow the Shadow."
Turning to Ragnar, she replies, "It seems he was not deemed worthy of rescue, unless he escaped on his own."
"It seems he was not deemed worthy of rescue, unless he escaped on his own."
Ragnar swallows and his brows knit. His coat drifts through the air to him and he shrugs into it, lifting his hood. The loss of a comrade, even one so briefly known, seems to be effecting him greatly. For the first time since any have met him, the big Dorn seems to feel the effects of a companion's death. Not even when his brother died did the loss seem to register to him. Now though, he seems almost childlike in his grief as he struggles to maintain his composure and hide his face.
Ilona takes the hand proferred and comes to her feet, her arm instictively wrapping around a massive bicep. she listens to the words as she vividly recalls the death stroke that ended Lanik.
She feels the wave of emotion washing through Ragnar, feels the shudder on his very breath. Without a word her hand snakes up along his shoulder, rising on her tiptoes to reach the back of his neck, drawing his powerful frame down to rest his head on her shoulder.
Gently she rests her head against his, for amoment dispelling all else.
Sometimes all it takes is a crack to let the light in, or to burst a damn.
His head rests a moment on her shoulder as he trembles then he turns his face into her neck, burying himself in her hair. She feels her neck become wet as his shoulders begin to shake.
Then collapses to a knee, like a mighty tree falling. He wraps his arms around her tightly, his head sliding down to rest against her chest as massive, silent wracking sobs shake his form.
The starlight eyes that follow him wink out one after another as the gosts that follow him bow their heads and close their eyes. The moaning and laughing and scraping and crying that surrounds him fades to acute silence, as if somehow his release of emotion finally gives the restless dead some peace, at least for the moment.
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You wake up on the stairs. They seemed to be shaped out of living rock, but not with hammer or chisel. They look like they have been shaped by the natural slow flow of stone - but something like that would take many ages to form.
"Mistress", cries a voice. "You have been absent for such a long time! I have waited. Do you like my stairs? I made them just for you!"
You realize that must be Pebble, Gilian's familiar. How long were you trapped in the dark? You seem rested and your wounds healed. How much time has passed?
"This is amazing, Pebble, such a good idea. Do they lead all the way out? And have you seen other people, a dwarf like sorok, a dark haired woman with a bow and other ones? If so how many of them did you sense and how long ago did they pass?"
"Yes, mistress. They passed through the tunnel three day ago. I waited for you all that time. They were met here by the demon in that strange body. I sank into the ground and they have not sensed me. Demon's body seemed to be failing away from the depths of the earth so he said that he has to find another one. That woman replied that they have to make sacrifices and that they have prisoners, so the demon can take one of their bodies when they finish with it." Pebble stops for a moment. "Oh, and there was no gnome."
"That's good", thinks Gilian, "he's dealing with his demons and losses like a human. I was worrying his relation with his brother and with other ghosts would lead him away from us. We are lucky to have both him and Ilona."
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Gilian sets down by the tracks. "It seems a big orc attacked the group. Maybe it was Kiron. Then most of the people moved towards the mountains. But some of them are going back to the tomb. We must go there to prevent them from taking over the tomb."
Gilian tries to find Zafina's tracks (they must be smaller and lighter than those of the humans), and check where the dwarf is going.
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Gilian sets down by the tracks. "It seems a big orc attacked the group. Maybe it was Kiron. Then most of the people moved towards the mountains. But some of them are going back to the tomb. We must go there to prevent them from taking over the tomb."
Gilian tries to find Zafina's tracks (they must be smaller and lighter than those of the humans), and check where the dwarf is going.
Solvistania pulls her attention away from Chops, to listen to the leader of this group, Gilian, "I agree, we must not let them gain control of the Nexus!"
After a short examination of the tracks, Gilian confirms: "Zafina and the dwarf seems to be pursuing the orc. If it's Kiron, they will have a hard time catching him if they can. And that will lend us time to deal with the nexus and remove the Progenitor threat. Let's go and catch the small group unaware."
"Let's go then. We should take our time and get it right. They have a three days start. We don't need to rush and lose the trail.
Ilona hears the coversation, yet none of it matters. As Ragnar finally allows himself to feel she is there, her actions far more powerful than any words, her mere touch providing the anchor the young warrior needs. A stable point for one far too acquainted with loss.
Tears glisten in her eyes, not for herself but for him and as she looks up she can almost swear she sees Eyvindir's ghostly form place a hand on Ragnar's shoulder, as he looks into Ilona's eyes and nods in sympathy and approval.
As Ragnar's breathing slows, she whispers quietly.
"They will always be with you, and so will I to remind you of the difference."