The man in the cage looks like a man in a cage. Of course one that's been the plaything of a succubus and her half-demon daughters for the last ten thousand years. What could possibly be wrong?
More importantly, the cage is not all it appears. The delicate bars are just a facade. Each and every 'cage' in here is actually a Forceage, a cube of pure force. The bars are only decoration. There are no doors, no gates, no openings of any kind.
"Pfff," Lym says, scratching herself behind the ear as she considers the cage. "This is... Yeah, this is a toughie. I don't have the spell handy that could wipe this thing out in one go. We could wear the sucker down, but it'd take a while."
As Thordak considers Lym's option, "Yeah I say we leave 'im. Might as well, he's been in here this long," he says with a shrug.
"I could get us in and out. I should even be able to heal him of any physical or mental afflictions."
"I could get us in and out."
"I could get us in and out. I should even be able to heal him of any physical or mental afflictions."
Looking to Tomaru blankly for a moment, eventually the dwarf decides, "Yeah I say we let 'im out. Maybe then he'll talk to us."
Tomaru isn't going in alone. That guy might be jumpy. Thordak willing to come along for the ride?
This guy has probably been here a very long time and is very old. Have we tried to speak to him in Thassilonian or Infernal? We could tell him that the mistress is dead and that we're releasing him.
”Before you get too compassionate, he is evil, and for me to read that, he’s either a priest or an evil god or very powerful himself...or else some sort of demon.”
"He's probably a victim, tortured for decades or even centuries by that fiendish hag. Have you no compassion?"
"If you're so worried, keep your bow cocked."
”All I mean is that this is probably not some random farmer plucked off his field. He’s probably a denizen if the Runeforge captured from another section. I will keep my bow on him.”
At the sound of Lym's voice, the man raises his head to look.
Like a shot, the man leaps to his feet and slams his naked form against the walls of the Forcecage, flesh pressed firmly on the translucent surface.
"That is why I want you in there with me, Thordak."
"I should be able to cure him of his instability, but I have to be in there with him to do so."
Thordak cringes and turns away at the sight of the man. "Fine. But by Torag can we get the lad some clothes! Cryin' out loud, between the blasted statues and this one, it's a wonder anythin' in this place has clothes." He then takes a quick glance down to make sure he has clothes on and breathes a sigh of relief. "Alright, ready when you are, lad... I guess," he says, taking a quick glance back to the man and shivering at the thought of having to go in there. "Let's get this over with."
Lym stands ready to Counterspell!
Tomaru and Thordak teleporting in, healing the guy, and teleporting out.
Tomaru and Thordak teleport into the cell. The first thing that hits you is the smell. The man's odor fills the small area with a smell that makes the air feel thick. He falls into the fetal position as you appear, blubbering and crying.
Cast Heal.
Light of sanity returns to his eyes. He stops his blubbering to look at Thordak and Tomaru long and hard. Then 10,000 years of memories and torment come flooding back. He bursts into tears, sobs wracking his body.
The dwarf crinkles his face in response to the terrible smell. "Blast this one has seen better days. Ya know, I think I'd rather be dead than sit in here forever. What a horrible existence this is. If I grab 'im, can ya zap 'im out o' here, lad?"
To clarify, use Dimension Door to get in.
Use Teleport to get out.
The man continues to cry, but now he speaks to himself between sobs. Little can be discerned, but it becomes apparent he was some sort of officer - possibly even a general - in some RuneLords army.
"It could take months or, probably, years for him to recover from his ordeal. He may never do so. We should take him to the sanitorium. They will be best able to help him there."
Nodding, "Sounds good. Now, can ya just zap 'im out o' here? Or do I gotta be holdin' 'im or what do we be needin' ta do exactly?"
"Take a Thassilonian to a modern mausoleum? We don't even know for sure that he isn't a spellcaster!" Lym protests.
If he doesn't resist- can he resist- then we're already out again.
The man does not resist as Tomaru teleports the three of them out of the Forcecage and back into the cathedral of Lust. He looks about the space, maybe his first time out side of his prison in millennia. He stops his crying, but now slips into a near-catatonic state, simply standing there and staring at his surroundings.
Praxim looks at the naked man standing still and staring at nothing.
”Are you sure my arrow doesn’t count as compassion?” he asks, scanning the man’s aura again now that he’s been healed.
"No! It is not compassion. I'll not be part of a senseless murder." The deaths of the Sandpoint townsfolk still weighs heavily on Aurora's conscience. "We could take him to Magnimar. They'd treat him as a celebrity and, Lym, you could appreciate all there is to learn from him."
"Brodert would give his child to just have a conversation with him.... once he can talk, that is."
"Keep an eye on him," Lym counsels. "We'll take him, but we can't trust him. When we leave here, I suggest we temporarily trap him in Castle Lym, where he can't do any harm. Praxim, keep an arrow on your string. If he turns on us, you need to take him out and fast.
Now. We need to decide what to do next. Do we investigate the rest of this place and see if there is anything that we can use to fight the Runelord of Greed, or do we find the forge and start creating weapons to carve him stem to stern?"
With a cool, calculating look, Lym addresses the officer.
Thordak grimaces. "I'll not be havin' the lad walkin' around like that. I'm gonna find 'im some blasted clothes." Thordak will search the area for clothing. And if he has too, he'll take the clothes off the demon or one of her minions because he's that determined not to have a naked man walking amongst them.
Watching Thordak attempt to dress the naked man in one of the sensual filmy nothings of the alu-demons, Praxim remarks, ”Yes, that is so much easier on the eyes!”
Looking crankily at the elf, "Well unless you have any better ideas, ELF, it's gonna have ta do! It's better than nothin'!" The dwarf harrumphs at the paladin and continues the horrible work. "Stupid place. Might as well call it 'Naked place'. Don't see how tough this Runelord could be when they're naked. Where apparently everyone walks around naked because they've obviously NEVER HEARD OF CLOTHING!" he yells at the room. "By Torag, if it were up ta me, we'd all be takin' baths in our clothes we would," he grumbles, attempting to get the man dressed as best he can.
"Perhaps something from the other room will be able to fit him. The one where we met the evil Thoordak. The change of venue will probably be good for him."
"We should investigate the rest of the facility. With all the evil in this place, we can't just leave it be. Eventually at least some of the vileness will leak out into the world."
"L-leave?" the man stammers at Lym. He looks around at her in a daze, then he starts a slow shuffle forward toward the exit.
"Perhaps something from the other room will be able to fit him. The one where we met the evil Thoordak. The change of venue will probably be good for him."
"We should investigate the rest of the facility. With all the evil in this place, we can't just leave it be. Eventually at least some of the vileness will leak out into the world."
"I'm with the lad. Makes sense ta me. And I'm gonna go check that other room. That's a good idea, lad."
”While I have nothing against taking out the forces of evil that lurk in this place, I think we should see to our weapon-forging first, just in case we need to beat a retreat and can’t get back in. Once we make our weapons, then we can explore and do some justice-infliction.”
The man continues to shuffle forward, shoulders drooped, looking about him in a daze.
When he reaches the opening, he reaches out a hand to touch the wall along the hall exit. Partly to steady himself, partly to get some tactile reassurance that he is free from his cage. He steps slowly, each foot placed carefully in front of the next. At the halfway point, he suddenly starts, and stands straight up. A look of lucidity comes into his eyes, one you haven't seen before. He smiles.
"L-look. I don't have much time. My name is...was...Neveletu. I was the commander of Sorshen's armies." He takes a step further, and you can see his face grow lined with age. "That dog Karzoug protected himself in his mountain - Mhar Massif." He takes another step, and his skin begins to grow grey. He staggers, only the hand on the wall keeping him upright. "You'll need the talismans to protect yourself, or you won't get close to the mountain..." This time he does fall, straight to the floor. He ages rapidly before your eyes, as his hair begins to fall out. His breath comes in difficult rasps. He struggles to roll over to face you, only managing to partially turn.
"The talismans...do...not...enter...the circle...<kaff kaff!> without them...death..."
Within moments, Neveletu becomes a pile of dust in the hall, time finally catching up to him.
"... Alright," Lym whispers. "I just want to say I did not expect that to happen."
The Half-Orc coughs, and swipes at the back of her neck, brushing down the hairs standing on end there.
"Now we don't just need to forge the weapons, we need to look for these... talismans. As soon as we're done forging, we at least need to look in the Greed-section of this thrice-bedamned pocket dimension."
Can Tomaru use Tugging the Strand to keep that from happening?
"Yeah, did not see that one meself, lass. Honestly, though, at least now the lad's at peace," the dwarf surmises.
Can Tomaru use Tugging the Strand to keep that from happening?