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Tkaara walks through the rooms apparently not caring about the muck and refuse that collects on her boots and about herself.
I doubt the albino is intelligent enough to know the dark tongue. It was copied from somewhere. We need to question the albino about where they came from, this will help us find our goal.
Touching the altar and opening up to it turns out not to be such a good move. In addition to the pain and terror experienced by those who have died at boggard hands, there is the lurking presence of Dagon to contend with; and beyond that, a vast sneering contempt for all life that has echoes of the daemonic.
The Horn was constructed and run entirely for the purposes of the cult of a leukodaemon; their work was cut short in fire and violence and their rage and hatred have been shrieking impotently ever since. This altar is the merest focal point for that - but it is enough.
Your mind is assailed repeatedly by barely-human and entirely inhuman non-presences. You snatch your hand away from the altar almost immediately, so there is no danger of possession - but the sheer level of hatred that you felt almost makes your brain shut down entirely.
The passageway leading here gleams: veins of copper and other ore (not worth the trouble of extracting) thread the stone, glinting in the light you carry.
The cave itself looks like a treasure trove - gems are studded in abundance into the rock surface on the far wall, glittering like diamonds. As Felrin steps forward to investigate more closely, however, the flowstone of the cave floor gives way beneath him with sharp *crack*. He falls 30 feet straight down, and lands badly, partially impaled on three razor-sharp stalagmites.
stalagmites
At the sound of the crack, Felrin's eyes widen and his head snaps back to look at his companions, his gaze suddenly lifting as he finds the floor falling away and himself following it down. He braces himself for a hard fall, but the moment of impact is far, far worse than he could have imagined, the stony blades extending from the cavern floor piercing him clean through. He simply hangs there for a few moments, just above the floor, unable to grasp what has happened and what he can possibly do to make the pain stop. Letting out a long, low groan, he drops one foot to the floor and pushes, lifting himself off the spears of rock - and screaming for all he's worth as he does so.
Once he's free of the impaling points, Felrin drops to a smooth patch of floor beside the stalagmites, and can't help but wonder why he couldn't manage to land there instead before he passes out for a moment. Opening his eyes, he manages to call up to the others, his breathing ragged, "I'm alive. But that hurt. I may have to kill a few boggards to feel better about this experience. But for now, could someone lower a rope?"
"Felrin!" Etna shouts as the grounds crumbles and the tiefling falls, uselessly trying to stretch her hand to catch him as he falls.
When Felrin finally replies, the ifrit retrieves the rope from her Handy Haversack and searches from something to attach it to.
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Tkaara looks over the edge shaking her head.
If we cannot avoid the traps of boggards, then we are in big trouble with what is before you.
With that, she also pulls a rope out of her own and ties it off to Etna's rope. She then ties knots into the rope before lowering it to Felrin. With the extra rope, there is plenty for the whole party to hold onto while Felrin climbs.
"Dummkopf," the Doctor mutters to himself. "Yes, let's all bunch up at the edge of terrain that has already proven unstable without checking it for further signs of collapse," he drawls. "And Felrin, don't flail about so, you'll only exacerbate the wound! We must get you bandaged up." He looks thoughtfully at the wet stone. "There is even a chance of mineral poisoning, depending on the local geology."
Ottakar concludes that - alas for his studies - mineral poisoning is unlikely in this case. The Horn is an unnatural creation, in that it was made by essentially twisting the ground until this stone spire erupted; but the stone itself is inert and non-magical.
He can also see - even from this distance - that the supposed 'diamonds' and other gems studded in the far wall are nothing but worthless, if pretty, calcite formations.
Felrin eventually pulls himself over the lip, and you set off again after some time spent bandaging/magically healing.
This dank, mildewy, slimy cavern is taken up with a pool of brackish, filthy water in which the next generation of boggards swims about and grows in this murky pool. The little boggard tadpoles are noncombatant and confined to the water. They actually look like strange little fish at this stage. Most of these tadpoles are most likely the descendants of the late Kumanda; no doubt the next lot will be Zikomo's, assuming he ever gets off the vision juice.
A crude stone statue of a great bloated tentacled boggard watches the pool. This is likely a statue of Father as the Bane-Wogs perceive him.
This wet cavern is a charnel-house: a deep, deep pit filled with the mouldering bones of both animals and sentients. This collection would seem to be largely cobbled together from everyone the boggards have ever murdered.
This large wet cavern is dominated by two murky pools on either side of a comparatively wet walkway. Muck and slime coats the floor, making your footing treacherous.
It's clear to you that this room has potential strategic importance: it is a bottleneck that leads to the back entrance of the boggard village. It would be wise to defend this room.
It is currently unguarded.
A particularly large and beautiful cave formation emerges from the pool . Delicate crystals stud its exterior.
"Dagon again, or rather some variation of him," Erevan casually remarks as they pass by the statue of the tentacled boggard.
"One would think that they would put guards in this place," he offers as the group enters the room with the pools of water. "Or one would hope that there are guards here under different circumstances. It would be foolish to leave such a natural bottleneck undefended. And I have to admit, the albino -what is his name again?- does not strike me as a fool."
As he talks, he tries to take a better look at the crystal-studded cave formation across one of the pools.
Felrin grunts in pain as he clambers over the lip of the pit, spilling blood on the cavern floor. Lying on the slightly slimy stone for a moment to catch his breath, he can't help but note that the pool of blood on the floor has a peculiar rusty orange tint to it, something he's never noticed before. Do the changes in my body alter even the color of my blood? What else goes on beneath my skin that I know nothing of? With a shake of his head, he stops his staring at the congealing blood on the floor. A question for another day, I think.
Rolling over, he entreats Etna to heal his injuries before they move on, heaving the occasional profound sigh of relief as she does so. "Thank you," he says, regaining his feet. "Please pardon the delay, everyone. I usually manage to avoid such...pitfalls."
Felrin goes quiet a moment, as if he's noticed something, then says, "Nothing for it but to keep looking around, eh?" He agrees with Erevan, about the change in leadership of the boggards, "It does seem the previous leader - may he nourish Tkaara's unholy bones - was a fool, and Zikomo seems a clever sort, if misguided in his worship. I expect things will change around here. I hope the albino proves a reliable ally, now that we've put him in power."
His eye is drawn to the focus of Erevan's attention, the surprisingly beautiful cave formation in the bottleneck cavern, and he studies it for a moment as well.
- Hatchling pool. Good to hold hostage over the tribe, if need be. Statue of Dagon. I'll NOT be touching that, thankyouverymuch.
Peering into the pool idly, Tatienee murmers, mostly to herself. "Fascinating. Do you think that Zikomo will kill the former chief's sons?"
- Charnell House. Useful. Could be an army.
"Where did they find all of these victims?"
- Bottleneck. Good ambush site. Must mention to Zikomo.
"Agreed, Erevan. The boggards seem to be pretty unorganized. Perhaps we should, if the time permits, train them in tactics?"
With a whoosh, the High Templar Rogarvia disintegrates into dust, his armor and spear falling to the floor. Sighing, Tatienne stoops and begins picking them up, arranging them neatly to go back into her pack. I need some servants of a more permanent nature.
Etna nods at Felrin's thanks after administrating healing with the wand.
"Yes, Zikomo has kept his promises, for now. If this blue slime will help us, and if he ever gets out of his stupor, he'll be a good ally." the ifrit says, examining the crystal like Erevan "Now that I think about it, we could also ask him if they've killed or seen the Elf of the Phlegetian knot."
Also, these boggards may have information on my mission...
Tatienne raises an eyebrow. "Elf of the Phlegetian knot? Sounds like a bad Chelish opera."
"I am afraid the humor is lost on me, unfortunately: we don't get many operas from the mainland, as you'd imagine. Not from Cheliax, surely!" Etna smiles "But yes, this Elf from Kyonin was the only member we located from the Fourth Knot: it's thanks to his map that we got here to the Horn relatively unarmed, but he was nowhere to be found. He also left behind some notes: if I can find even only his journal, I can try to dechyper his personal code and understand any information that may have been lost with his death or treason."
"Speaking of which, now that I think about it..." Etna says, retrieving the map they used to get to the horn from whoever has it "Tatienne, did you say that you can gleam information from items? These map here belonged to the Elf I just mentioned." the ifrit says, presenting the map to the Chelaxian noblewoman.
"Interesting. I can gleam information from one's personal effects. Let me give it a shot..."
The impressions from the map are too faint - it's been months since the elf handled that map.
This is an empty, nondescript wet cavern. The hard stone floor is slippery and the sound of your footsteps is mingled with the slow drip, drip of water.
This cavern slopes down from the previous cavern and there is a pool of water at its far end. The pool has a faint glow to it and is surprisingly clear. A number of weird pale blue blind cave fish with delicate thread-like spines on their fore-fins are swimming in the pool.
It would seem that this pool has nearby side chambers that disappear under the rock; the fish population would appear to be sustainable.
This is yet another wet, empty cavern; it has only one feature that makes it notable: on the far, western wall, the flickering of your various light sources reveals a very distinctive blue slime mold.
The vibrant blue slime is neither poisonous nor dangerous but is visually striking. Otherwise, at first glance, this cavern appears uninteresting.
There is a minuscule little tunnel opening in the base of the southern wall. No creature bigger than tiny (or gaseous or incorporeal) can pass through.
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Tkaara sees the fish and smiles, if briefly.
Wonder what such fish taste like.
With that, she wades into the water, apparently without care, and attempts to snag one. Getting a lucky grab, or perhaps it was the fish trying to attack her, she lifts the cave fish up and simply bites its head off, draining its blood into her open mouth.
Once drained, she tosses the corpse back into the pool and turns to the others.
Much better than that bloated former chief. A little fishy and it had a strange aftertaste.
Seeing the blue slime covered area, she looks to Felrin, and then at Etna and Taty.
Didn't the crazy albino say the path is behind blue slime? This seems about as slimy and blue as it gets. The question is what is behind it, or how do we get behind it?
Knowledge(dungeoneering):
Perception:
Survival: <-- fish catching
As Tkaara moves to enter the pool, Felrin raises a hand and attempts to stop her, "Wait, do you not recall that this place is dangerous?" he says, gesturing to the already-fading but massive scar on his upper arm where it was pierced by a stalagmite. "Who knows what risk you are running for a snack?"
Felrin nods at Tkaara, eyes scanning the blue slime and the chamber around it. "If I understood Taty, the albino said 'the cave of the blue slime conceals your future'. Which may relate to the tiny opening there in the wall," he says, pointing at a minuscule tunnel opening in the base of the southern wall. "But I could scarcely fit my hand in there. You'd have to be a tiny creature, or magically altered to gaseous form or something, to go anywhere through that. Perhaps it conceals some sort of secret, rather than being meant as a passageway. Taty, do you think your cadaverous friend could explore it a bit? After the collapsing floor debacle, I'm reluctant to stick my hand in that hole."
As he says this, he moves to stand a few feet from the hole and crouches down, peering inside it, his devil-tinged eyes allowing him to see into the darkness inside.
Frowning, Tatienne takes her hand from the map. "I'm afraid too much time has passed. There's little psychic resonance left."
- Empty cavern. Slick floor.
- Cave fish.
"Today my connection to the Templar is spent, but I should be able to summon him again tomorrow. I can, however, alter the size of a creature, making it smaller or larger. We need something smaller than the stature of a person, and I can probably shrink it enough to send it through the hole."
Taty looks pointedly at Winston as she finishes talking, before looking around. "Alternatively, if anyone has tools - a pickaxe would be useful, shovels as well - we could put the Templar to work every day widening the passage."
"Yes, that is indeed sound advice" Etna nods, snapping her fingers to create for orbs of light, that moves down near the tiny hole and fly into it one at a time, illuminating it.
"Careful Felrin, it's very well possible that some creature could live in there-" Etna starts saying cautiously, before Tatienne hints to send a miniaturized Winston into the hole. Freezing in place, her hair briefly lighting up, the Ifrit turns to Taty.
"I don't think that's a good idea..." the ifrit tries to say as neutrally as possible, holding back her outrage at the Chelaxian proposing to send her defenseless dog as a scout.
However, before she can continue, a barking interrupts her.
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"Woof. Arf arf" Winston barks, looking first at Mistress Etna, wagging his tail, before moving to Lady Taty and sitting in front of her.
He had been completely useless until now, nothing but an utter disgrace: no matter if he didn't agree with the path Mistress Etna chose, he swore to aid her always, and now was the time.
Waiting further orders, Winston stares at Lady Taty.
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Shrugging, Tatienne peers curiously at Etna. "Why not? I'm sure I can shrink him and Winston seems to want to go. Isn't the point of having a dog to have that special companion that would lay its life down for you? Man's best friend and all that? Why even have a dog if you won't put it in that position?"
Duly shrunk by magic, tiny-Felrin creeps cautiously through the gap and down the long tunnel, disappearing from view.
Right next to the skeleton, glittering amongst the muck, is the largest, most exquisite emerald you have seen. EVER.
You've no idea what the phrase "a king's ransom" actually covers, but this emerald would form a large part of said ransom, if it were ever actually needed.
"Taty's got a point, Etna," Felrin comments as he prepares to enter the tiny tunnel, transforming himself into a bulb-headed goblin as a first step in reducing his size. "Who knows what things we hold dear that we'll all have to sacrifice to achieve our goals?"
He lets Tatienne touch him to shrink him still further, then moves quickly through the tunnel, knowing he hasn't much time at this size. Once he reaches the chamber at the other end, he quickly studies the area for any traps or other surprises, as well as other exits from the room. He then scans for magic before returning to his companions to tell them what he's learned.
The skeleton doesn't register under your magic. At all. It may as well be carved out of the rock it's buried in.
The emerald, on the other hand... Yowee, it glows brightly! "Burns" would be a better word than "glows," actually. Like a star, a sun, more magic than you've experienced before.
The book cradled in the skeleton's arms registers, faintly. Possibly. In the dazzling glare of the emerald, it's hard to tell...
Felrin considers the massive emerald for a fleeting moment, his eyes wide at the sheer power present in the thing. Could this be the Tears of Achlys? If so, what will touching it do to me?
Knowing he's short on time, he says a brief prayer to the Dark Prince, the snatches up the gem and the book before turning back down the miniature tunnel that brought him here.
Felrin's tiny, altered form emerges from the tunnel, holding aloft his finds. Though he's still very strong, it's clear at least one of his burdens is awkward, as he carries a leather-bound book, which he's had to drag through the tunnel. Dropping it disdainfully, he raises his other hand, which holds the largest, most exquisite emerald imaginable, at least the size of Felrin's shrunken head. "I have never felt such magical power!" he says, his voice full of a zealous intensity. "It's beyond anything I've dreamed of! I believe we may have found what we sought, the Tears of Achlys!"
Felrin lowers his hands to his face and stares into the gem for a few long moments, his breathing deep as he calls on Asmodeus' energies to grant him insights into the powers of the massive emerald. "Etna, Tatienne, would you help me study the stone? I can sense it has incredible power, but not what it is meant to do."
With a quick glance at the tome on the floor, he adds, "And we should study the book as well. I found it clutched in the hands of a long-dead skeleton, in the chamber there so long its form was all but encrusted in the lime that makes up these caves. And the gem was by the bony fellow's side, perhaps as if he had dropped it. It could be that the book tells something of the gem, or of how to use its power."
Tatienne's eyes widen as she unconsciously licks her lips. The emerald was beautiful, and obviously a object of great import, but the book...
Still, she'd study the book later. For now, the quick and dirty. Placing her hand on the emerald, the relic hunter closes her eyes, and thrusts her consciousness into the gemstone, to better divine its nature.
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Tkaara's dark eyes narrow as she sees the diminutive goblin-Felrin return clutching the giant gem and dragging the book behind him.
What did you find? Here eyes seem to sparkle for a brief moment as she focusses on the gem. Whatever it is, clearly it did not help the elf. Lets just hope that it is not as unhelpful to us.
Spell craft (gem):
Spell craft (book):
She casts a spell, but the overwhelming power of the stone is simply too much for her limited study of magic and the arcane. Turning her focus to the book, she is similarly unable to get a reading on the item due to the constant presence of the powerful stone.
Anyone have an idea if this is the Tear? It is not anything I have studied before.
Etna stays silent and doesn't reply to Taty's and Felrin's words, instead just reflecting on what they just said.
The things that I hold dear that I'll have to sacrifice...
When Felrin reemerges from the tunnel, the ifrit has a chance to shook herself off from her thoughts.
"I doubt that it is the Tear of Aklys." Etna shakes her head "Didn't the cardinal say that we had to obtain it from Vetra Kali? Nonetheless, it may surely be connected to it."
As Tatienne tries to see into the item's past, Etna studies the jewel and the book, casting Detect Magic on them first to see if she could find something.
Turning his attention from the captivating glow of the emerald, Felrin nods at Etna's words. "As you say, it may not be the Tear," he says thoughtfully, as he recalls Thorn's words. "I am not certain that we need to get the Tears from Vetra-Kali, but the Cardinal spoke of a silver seal holding the Daemon Prince captive, and I saw no such thing here."
A thought strikes him, distracting enough to cause him to lower his hand containing the massive emerald, "Wait, the Daemon Prince! I had forgotten that Thorn called Vetra-Kali that until just now! The daemonic markings on the albino's altar - they made no sense, but looked as if their designs had simply been copied from somewhere else! Zikomo might have seen them wherever Vetra-Kali is imprisoned...or something like that. If he ever comes out of that trance, we must ask him about them."
"I share Etna's doubts about this gem's nature, I must admit," Erevan offers, his tone getting a little drier as he continues. "After all, I would have expected us to have to best some guardian or other on our way to the Tears. Perhaps even a couple of deaths or severe injuries at least." He smiles his thin little smile. "Not that I am looking forward to such a thing of course."
"Still," he goes on, driness all but vanished, "we are looking for the Tears. Emphasis on the plural, at least if memory serves. So this could very well be one of them, the other having indeed a guardian of some sort."
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Taty picks up the emerald and appears to go into some sort of trance; as she does so, the gem wakes; flares with light, illuminating the Chelish woman's face with a sickly green cast...
You thrust your consciousness into the gem - and it replies in kind. It is alive - and yet not; sentient - and yet not; but it can see, oh yes, it can see...
You see yourself draw one of your ceremonial daggers, testing the edge. Wickedly sharp, just the way you always keep them...
...As if from some far-off vantage point, you watch yourself walking over to Erevan, that quiet man who spoke with such nonchalance about loss and death. As you approach him, he kneels, baring his neck, resigned to the inevitable...
...Your blade kisses him, drawing deep gouts of blood from his slit throat; the blood washes over your hands, engulfs the emerald, bathing it...
...And the gem drinks deep, absorbing it all, and then, oh yes, and THEN...
...So much of the world will be yours, Tatienne Leroung, that you may get tired of it...
Tatienne, her visage bathed in the sickly green light, smiles and sighs, a deep, contented, almost catlike sound. And then she opens her eyes, surprised to find that with her free hand she's drawn her athame, and is clutching it tightly to her chest.
Letting go of the emerald, the relic hunter sheeths her knife and coughs politely into her hand. "Yes, well... Whatever the emerald is, Tears or something else, Felrin is correct - there is great power in it. And it is... aware, I guess would be the best word. It wants a sacrifice. We must bathe it in blood."
"There's no easy way to say this. It wants us to sacrifice Erevan. Then, much of the world will be..." Mine! "Ours. Of course, contractually, we can't do that - unless you're willing to take the leap, Master Cale? If not, I suppose we should find a suitable substitute."
"Regardless, Master Cale, I'd not be so dismissive of the gemstone. It is very upset with you."
"Why Erevan in particular?" Etna raises an eyebrow "And I wouldn't trust blindly in the first gem that tells me to sacrifice people: still, we'll have no shortage of material to sacrifice to it. Don't objects like this usually ask for the life of a righteous warrior or young maiden, anyway?"
"Why indeed?" Taty shrugs. "I'm simply relaying what the gemstone showed me. Certainly more research is needed before we sacrifice anyone. And I'm pretty sure, unless Erevan wants to be a sacrifice, following the gem's wishes would be a breach of our contract. I for one, have no desire to find out what punishment that will bring."
Tatienne shudders. "So, I imagine we'll have to find another way to accommodate the gem." Nodding at the tome lying at Felrin's feet, Tatienne licks her lips. "Maybe a righteous warrior or a young maiden will do the trick... perhaps the book will tell us more?"
"I'm not sure the contract would let Erevan sacrifice himself, even if he chose to," Felrin comments. "Which I expect is unlikely," he adds, with a sidelong glance at their reserved companion.
"I wonder why the gem waited to pass this message on to you, when I was the first to touch it?" he muses. "I guess when I first picked it up, the only option for a sacrifice was the ancient skeleton, and it wouldn't have much to offer." With a shrug, he says, "I agree, Taty, we'll have to find some other way to accommodate the gem's thirst. Let's keep our eyes open for someone suitable, no? And in the meantime, you can indulge your very evident curiosity about the book I found."
"I am simply attuned very well to things, Master Felrin. I spent my childhood around objects more than people, and I've spent my adulthood chasing after other objects, powerful and hidden things. All things contain, for lack of a better term, resonances of those that use them, and all things have, I believe, an essence. Even inanimate things, and especially powerful things."
"It is my gift - these translations from thing to person. One which I am always happy to put to use for the knot, of course. And I greatly appreciate your allowing me indulge my curiosity. Books are the most lovely things, yes?"
" wonder why the gem waited to pass this message on to you, when I was the first to touch it?"
The book is solidly bound in some unidentifiable skin - not human, which is not nearly robust enough (and - just as importantly - doesn't hold ink properly); most likely some sort of flayed fiendskin. It has writing on the spine in the language of Abaddon.
It details the long history of the “Sons of the Pale Horseman” and recounts their efforts to transform this world into a daemon’s playground.
The tome seems almost to gust open as Taty undoes the bindings...
This book is not alive; but the memories associated with it are strong. VERY strong. They have endured 80 years or more, awaiting someone who could understand.
When the end came for the Sons of the Pale Horseman, it came quickly. Certainly the cultist Rinehart Kappelbrenner was caught unprepared. As his brethren charged towards the futile fight with the King and his knights, Rinehart instead ran. He knew the fight could not be won. He had already seen the daemon prince Vetra-Kali slain by King Markadian. He knew he was doomed. But always a clever lad, Rinehart had a plan. He grabbed two potions of gaseous form, a small pack containing personal effects, food and water and one of the emerald eyes of Vetra-Kali. The jewel he obtained was the - it would allow him to spy out the confines of the Horn and watch for when it was safe to emerge. His plan was to drink a potion of gaseous form, retreat to a small chamber in the lower caverns he had discovered years ago, and there wait out this slaughter. After the invaders were gone then he could escape and unite with other survivors...if there were any. He had no doubt that when he returned the to the priesthood, they would hail him as a hero of the order.
It was a magnificent plan and at first, it seemed to be working flawlessly. Rinehart escaped to the lower caverns, drank the potion and made it into the concealed cavern. He reverted to solid form and used the to survey the destruction wrought upon the Horn. It was then he noticed a terrible flaw in his plan. One of the potions of gaseous form had been smashed. Its contents had leaked out and the potion was ruined. He was trapped in this tiny chamber.
He tried slipping through the gap - tried until his frame was raw and bloody; he even resorted to shouting, hoping a comrade would hear him. After a day of futile effort he knew he was doomed.
He lasted for weeks. Water dripped into the cave and he had a small store of food. He even had illumination via his magic. His pack contained a prized holy book “The Dirges of Apollyon” and ink and quill. Using the he observed everything that was done by the Victor. He saw the Seal made and in that moment Rinehart Kappelbrenner had a dreadful epiphany. Some might say a vision this powerful and this terrible must have come directly from the Pale Horseman himself. Or perhaps it was simply a moment of genius by one of the most humble servants of this wicked temple. Whatever the reason, Rinehart knew what must be done to call forth his master back to the prime material plane.
The seal was not perfect. There was a way to break it. And he knew how. On the back pages of the “Dirges” he recorded his ritual. And then cackling madly to himself in smug satisfaction, he committed his soul into the arms of death and took his own life.
As Taty emerges from her reverie, a single piece of paper slips out of the back of the book, drifting slowly to the floor...
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"No, I do not believe I will be willingly sacrificing myself any time soon," Erevan replies casually, "and certainly not to a... touchy gem."
Despite his somewhat nonchalant response, he does pause to think a little before speaking again. "Still, Etna expressed doubts as to its nature as well, yet I am the one with the dubious honor of being a preferable sacrifice? Perhaps Etna, being what she is, is not to the artifact's liking? Or perhaps it prefers humans? And if it does, it could not very well ask for Tatienne's sacrifice, seeing as it is her who communicated with it."
The golden-eyed man sighs. "No matter. At least for now. But I agree that further research is necessary. If for no other reason than the fact that I would not want to test the boundaries and fine print of our Contract."
This page - unlike the rest of the tome - is written in common, so Tkaara can easily read it.
Crucial.Important.Vital.Document.
Details of the various prayers, blessings and curses mentioned in the sheet of paper can be found within the "Dirges of Apollyon" book.
Tkaara sees the fish and smiles, if briefly.
Wonder what such fish taste like.With that, she wades into the water, apparently without care, and attempts to snag one. Getting a lucky grab, or perhaps it was the fish trying to attack her, she lifts the cave fish up and simply bites its head off, draining its blood into her open mouth.
Once drained, she tosses the corpse back into the pool and turns to the others.
Much better than that bloated former chief. A little fishy and it had a strange aftertaste.
The fish's spines are poisonous and secrete a venom that numbs and paralyses has no effect whatsoever on Tkaara's form. The water, on the other hand is another matter. Clearly, this little pool is part of a much larger complex of running water that flows through the caverns (presumably draining out into the marsh to the East) - because when Tkaara steps in, it hisses and boils like fuming sulphuric acid...
Sorry for the delay on this, I genuinely missed your post earlier.
Tatienne's eyes roll up into the back of her head, and she channels the book's memories, describing them out loud as they enter her mind, her voice a notch lower than usual.
When the end came for the Sons of the Pale Horseman, it came quickly. Certainly the cultist Rinehart Kappelbrenner was caught unprepared. As his brethren charged towards the futile fight with the King and his knights, Rinehart instead ran. He knew the fight could not be won. He had already seen the daemon prince Vetra-Kali slain by King Markadian. He knew he was doomed. But always a clever lad, Rinehart had a plan. He grabbed two potions of gaseous form, a small pack containing personal effects, food and water and one of the emerald eyes of Vetra-Kali. The jewel he obtained was the - it would allow him to spy out the confines of the Horn and watch for when it was safe to emerge. His plan was to drink a potion of gaseous form, retreat to a small chamber in the lower caverns he had discovered years ago, and there wait out this slaughter. After the invaders were gone then he could escape and unite with other survivors...if there were any. He had no doubt that when he returned the to the priesthood, they would hail him as a hero of the order.
It was a magnificent plan and at first, it seemed to be working flawlessly. Rinehart escaped to the lower caverns, drank the potion and made it into the concealed cavern. He reverted to solid form and used the to survey the destruction wrought upon the Horn. It was then he noticed a terrible flaw in his plan. One of the potions of gaseous form had been smashed. Its contents had leaked out and the potion was ruined. He was trapped in this tiny chamber.
He tried slipping through the gap - tried until his frame was raw and bloody; he even resorted to shouting, hoping a comrade would hear him. After a day of futile effort he knew he was doomed.
He lasted for weeks. Water dripped into the cave and he had a small store of food. He even had illumination via his magic. His pack contained a prized holy book “The Dirges of Apollyon” and ink and quill. Using the he observed everything that was done by the Victor. He saw the Seal made and in that moment Rinehart Kappelbrenner had a dreadful epiphany. Some might say a vision this powerful and this terrible must have come directly from the Pale Horseman himself. Or perhaps it was simply a moment of genius by one of the most humble servants of this wicked temple. Whatever the reason, Rinehart knew what must be done to call forth his master back to the prime material plane.
The seal was not perfect. There was a way to break it. And he knew how. On the back pages of the “Dirges” he recorded his ritual. And then cackling madly to himself in smug satisfaction, he committed his soul into the arms of death and took his own life.
Sighing as the memories leave her, Tatienne's eyes regain focus and she looks around the room to her companions. "So, we've got one of the emerald eyes of Vetra-Kali, and we can use it to scry throughout the Horn. If we can figure out how to use it, that is..."
So that is what Tatienne hears or sees when she reads objects...fascinating. There are spells to converse with the remains of the deceased, but I had never heard of something like this.
"And it looks like scrying around the Horn will be useful to us." Etna says after Taty finishes recounting the vision, pointing to the sheet of paper Tkaara picked up "Looks like we now have a way to break the seal, but unfortunately it will take us some time to undo it: months, even. And what's worse, we'll need not only a righteous follower of Mitra, but also a Daemonic believer and a relative of the Victor."
And what counts as "One of the Victor's own blood"? Son, brother, uncle, cousin, twice removed niece? These Daemons are already starting to get on my nerves with their impreciseness, and we haven't even started performing the ritual.
The ifrit massages her temples for a moment, even if it isn't clear if it is for pain or for the difficulty of the task at hand.
"Shall we make camp and rest? We can explore the upper parts of the Horn tomorrow."
That evening, before she settles in to sleep, Tatienne visits the bone pit. Wading into it, the relic hunter begins sifting through the remains, grabbing any animal bones that she can find and stuffing them into her pack. Lastly, she finds the skull of a small human child, and grinning, tucks it under her arm, thinking she will name it William.
Other than her control over the High Templar, which was brought about by the manipulation of that specific man's psychic residue, Taty'd had little luck with the art of undeath. But, the night before the Cardinal took her, she'd had a breakthrough. For a few seconds, the would-be necromancer had imbued a dead raven with the semblance of life. It flapped its wings and flopped about on its back before succumbing again to death, lying still on the floor within her makeshift animating circle.
The bone pit seemed a fortuitous find - it would give the woman everything she needed to try again. Hopefully, she'd be able to animate these bones for a longer duration. She was close; the necromancer could feel the power stirring within her - she just had to harness it.
Etna goes to her tent that evening more than a bit disgruntled: the pain she felt in the head after Taty's divination only got worse with time.
Gods, the screams.
They had haunted her since she heard them that time at Balentyne, when the Archons almost snuffed the life out of her, but they had almost have been nothing more than terrifying echos in the distance. But this night, they were resounding in her head just like the first time the ifrit heard them, hammering from the inside as of they were threatening to burst her cranium from the inside.
Waking up sweating, Etna quickly realizes that the pain was not caused by (only) the memory of the screams of the damned, but from the very tangible transformation that was occurring to her: it had always been painful, but not this time.
This time was pure, simple, agonizing torment, as if hundreds of years of Infernal punishment were being condensed in moments, but she was not allowed to die from the shock.
Feeling her head bursting, her flesh rending, and her mind going numb, Etna manages to think coherently before doing what she needed the most at the moment: screaming.
Running out of her tent, Etna barely recognizes that Erevan was on watch at the moment, instead just sprinting out of the horn as far as her legs manage to take her.
After but a minute after she runs out of the cave, the Ifrit trips as she feels something, like sharp swords, protruding from inside her back.
With a trembling hand, she removes the circlet, trying to look at her hands.
Red. A deep, red crimson. But that wasn't what terrified the woman and made her panic even more than she was doing.
It was as if they were hollow. She could not feel that there were flesh, bones or blood beneath the skin. Before she can scream aloud, a familiar figure approaches...()
Before you can considering if you'd want to follow her or not, Winston too sprints out of the tent, tugging on your clothes to follow him.
Winston walks you a little more than a minute far from the entrance of the Horn, whimpering then in the direction of a strange creature on its side on the ground.
At first, you can't make out really what it is, save that it has a handful of very long but sleek, twisting spikes coming out of its body.
Moving closer, you notice that the creature is clearly a woman, wearing the tattered rests of a night gown: it has even a number of horns on her head, a long pair starting from her forehead that progress behind her head, and three pairs of smaller, tall horns that form something akin to a crown. Now that you look at them, they're very similiar to the protruding spikes, and look awfully similar to the tiny horns of an Ifrit that you know.
With hair, face, and most of the skin near the body covered by a black, tar like substance, the creature-woman doesn't seem to notice you at first, too intent at staring in disbelief at her own hands. But when she focuses on you, a flash of recognition crosses her glowing yellow eyes, and she tries to speak to you, before another two spikes erupt from her body and send her screaming in pain.
You are fairly sure that what is before you is (was?) Etna of House Agnes.