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Considering the puzzle Lilith ponders. I think the abdomen must be the swollen abdomen of a monstrous spider which reporesents fertility. Think of the young such a creature is capable of birthing. She looks over the pieces already placed. But something is wrong as none of the right arms can mean Rest, at least to me. Perhaps the skeletal arm held together with twisted sinew could mean rest? I had at first considered it as undead but no, it can symbolize the rest of the grave.
Lilith places the piece for the abdomen.
Right, the skeletal arm then. Flynn says, decisively, directing one of the others to retrieve it and place it in the remaining slot.
Robban stares at Flynn for a moment, then hesitantly reaches for the container with the skeletal arm. Picking it up with one hand with a lok of disgust, he wastes no time hauling it across the intervening space to slam it in to the stone box.
He half-whispers...
...rest then...
A deep thrum fills the air, vibrations setting your teeth on edge, nerves jangling. A painful jolt accompanies your hand being forced off the handle of the container it was on, and you step back away from the raised area.
The grind of stone on stone accompanies the sides of the boxes sliding up and over the top, closing over your choices and sealing your decision.
Swirls of dust cascade down from the roof as the ground shakes, until there is a swirling vortex of air in the chamber that erupts in to light as Valex and Lenneth's brands flash and pour their radiance in to a cascading tornado of movement and energy that slowly sinks in to the stone sarcophagus in front of you.
The room goes silent, you gasp for breath, and the sudden and total blackness threatens to overwhelm your senses.
Lilith quickly speaks the words of her spell to bring light, and for a moment you are unsure of what is most comforting, the light itself or simply the sound of a familiar voice.
As the soft yellow of the magical illumination grows, you see you are no longer alone in the chamber...
...A voice, in equal parts high pitched and gravelly, precise and yet rough-edged, issues from the humanoid shape in front of you. You have the eerie sensation that it is not speaking in common, and yet you can understand it.
It's head turns from side to side, a cascade of purple sparks issuing forth from the pale porcelain mask like tears.
Its skeletal arm reaches up as if to grasp at something, the creaking leather of the sinews crackle loudly as the hand makes a fist.
The writhing mass of vines that makes up its other arm flicker and explore the air, the floor, the ceiling, tasting and touching.
Bony fingers run down the soft curves of the figure's breasts, the plant tendrils of the other arm lengthening and narrowing, sliding around and around until a facsimile of clothing is spun.
Spinnarets glisten with silk under the slowly writhing belly
A graceful foot softly treads the stone floor, balancing perfectly
The other leg crashes heavily down on the floor, flames licking at the now cracked stone, barely contained.
The figure steps forwards, towering over you.
A sudden gesture and both Valex and Lenneth are held still, unable to move.
The head turns to regard you all, violet sparks causing the expression of the mask to change constantly, and you all now are frozen, unable to shift your gaze from the terrible abyss-like depths of the thing's eyes.
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With a glance at his companions, Valex steps forward.
"The world is much changed, and the circumstances of the living changed with them.
We are not among the faithful, as the cult of Lissala has been virtually unknown for ten thousand years. Mighty Azlant and Thassalon, it's wayward child, were blotted from the earth in a cataclysm ten millennia ago, and her faiths are all but unknown.
Kingdoms rose and fell in the meantime, and the world was a vibrant place until quite recently. A great evil was released from its prison, an undead menace that, with his followers, cast the world back into darkness. All the dead -and I truly mean ALL - of the world rose, seeking the blood of the living, and the kingdoms of men and dwarves and elves have fallen. The dead outnumber the living by a staggering margin.
Worse, the great magics that this lich-fiend wrought have cut us off from the gods. Priests, clerics, adepts - their power faltered and their contact with the divine powers was severed by a great metaphysical Shroud. Our greatest weapons against the undead were stripped from us.
Those before you, here, and our friends nearby, we seek to preserve life, and find ways in which we might turn back this tide of horror and undeath. We are seeking ancient magics of Thassilon - once used against the undead - when we stumbled across this temple. We sought for any clue, any edge over our enemies, any boon to life and health herein. No disrespect to the patroness of the temple is intended, but we are desp..." Valex breaks off, tilts his head in thought.
"We are eagerly striving for any way in which we might gain an advantage over our foes, on whom we would pour our righteous anger. We seek a return to wealth and abundance, and, above all, safety for fertility, for life itself. If, at the end, we are successful, then we may have true rest instead of the horror of eternal, undead servitude, and can then take honest pride in our labors."
Feldus reels back from the divine presence as terror floods his body. Being unable to move only increases his panic and he struggles futilely against the bonds holding him before he gives up the struggle.
Thinking to himself of the words coming from the divine force, along with the words from Aura, only one thought rises to his mind...RIGHTEOUS ANGER.
Almost without realizing it, he responds out loud to the being "I...I feel...what do I feel...naught but emptiness. I have nothing to live for. My clan...my family...my WIFE...my progeny...all destroyed, to feed the hunger of the Way, those who would make the world in their own image. I...I am the last of my kind. I have searched far...but to no avail. Not even fertility would save me as I can only infect, not sire more of my kind." His words grow more bitter and venomous as he continues. "I have nothing but REVENGE, or as you call it, RIGHTEOUS ANGER in my heart. I wish to pour my Righteous Anger on those who destroyed my race, my kind and wipe them completely from the face of this world, and all the planes of existence!!"
Flynn struggles so hard tendons stand out like cords along his neck and ribbons of muscle tense along his arms.
Let.... me... go... you bastard. he hisses. We didn't risk death and worse for some long-dead.... relic... hold us to judgement.
Like the water, Flynn feels helpless, and he recoils from the feeling - it is an anathema to him. It is only when he stands here, frozen, that he comes to understand how much his freedom means to him, defines him and how much this world has taken from him.
Melo bares his teeth at the creature birthed from the alter he waits to see its next move. Unsure of what it expects from them.
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I greet you Kurshu the Divine Serpent. I know you and welcome you back to the living. This is right and proper for you are also called the Undying and you have waited long enough. We have awakened you to give you an opportunity to serve Lissala in this time of the world's need. Much has happened while you waited and you will see that much of that stands against Lissala's virtues. As for me, I call upon your sense of honest pride, for you are indeed great and powerful. I too grow in power and will seek to ally myself with you for our purposes are aligned.
He understands that Lillith and Valex are in their own way reasoning with the creature, but he cannot think beyond trying to force himself free of the invisible bonds that bind him.
The entity's attention focuses on Valex
One hand throws out towards Feldus
The depthless eyes of the mask fall upon Flynn
It turns upon Robban
The eyes spark anew as it the skeletal arm sweeps forward towards Lilith
The tendrils of the thing's arm writhe and churn
It ponders for a moment, then seeming satisfied it flexes shoulders and regards Lenneth
It whirls upon Aura, stalking close enough that the heat of the flames causes the very air to shimmer around the girl. The skeletal hand grips her face, turning it this way and that
It turns Aura's gaze to meet that of Lenneth's
Almost as an afterthought, graceful leg and surging flame take two steps towards Melo
Its form shimmers and it becomes difficult to underestand where it is standing in the chamber, a whirl of dancing blue lights cascade around.
It's flaming leg roars, spiderweb cracks form on the stone beneath your feet and the air itself turns scalding
Red flames lick at the two men, burning and yet not harming them...
A second's pause
A sinuous leg traces the steps to an ancient and forgotten dance, the footprints forming an ever changing rune which somehow becomes your whole world for one long drawn out moment...
The glistening skin of the herald's chest glows white
Robban looks wide-eyed as the skeletal arm reaches out to him, but a look of complete peace comes across his face as the herald's hand brushes his forehead. His body collapses slowly, somehow cushioned and graceful as it now lies across the floor. Somehow you know it is in no danger of rising again.
A cloak of stars gathers around the herald's body as it strides towards Melo
An apparition appears, stretching and surging with ghostly vigor, Cyn prowls around your frozen forms, roaring in silent greeting, before moving to sit before Melo, staring through him, her form already wavering and threatening to fade...
Please include the visuals of the above in your next post so that the others can see what happened with your choice.
Please include the visuals of the above in your next post so that the others can see what happened with your choice.
And with that, it is gone. Not just gone, but there is emptiness where it was. You smell the green freshness of the forest, feel the heat of the warm sun against your cheek, the sounds of insects close by. You are standing beside a small stream, close by to your camp. Of the entrance to the underground temple, there is no sign whatsoever.
Whisper blinks suspiciously at you, sheathing the dagger she appears to have drawn in response to what must have been your sudden appearance. She raises an eyebrow. From the position of the sun you would guess it is midday.
Melo watches on with gritted teeth as shadow of Cyn former self moves about him sitting in front of him mimicking her memory. "Cyn is dead!" He shouts out attempting to slash out at the figure but unable to move. "I didnt ask for anything, I didnt help bring you about I don't want anything from you. Take it back." He watches now as the figure starts to fade away, sinking away from into mist. She died.. I wouldn't stand for that echo.. He thinks to himself as he notices a small ball of mist, draw to it he lowers his hand hand picks it up as a warm sensation fill him.
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As it all comes to an end, Melo slumps to the ground happy to be out of that tomb he digs his claw deep into the earth, the memory of Cyn still lingering.
Flynn blinks up at the afternoon sun, eyes involuntarily squinting against the glare after being used to the dim lighting in the...temple? Feldus could only guess as to what the...godling's purpose would be.
OUR PATHS WILL CROSS A FINAL TIME...IF YOU SURVIVE THE TRIALS TO COME... the words of Kurshu the Undying echoing in his mind. To be honest he did not know which part terrified him more.
He glances over his new nest-mates, noting Robban's still form. Seeing them still struggling to deal with the aftermath of the encounter he turns to face the enigmatic halfling, unable to put into words what he experienced. "I...I cannot speak of what we found...but we have finished...what we came here for..." He struggles to get the words out. Moving over to the corpse of a man he had barely known he stares at the peaceful look on his face and knew the Way had no hold over him. "Rest now. You have earned it."
Checking over his gear out of habit he glances back to the others, "He deserves a proper grave."
Flynn takes a gulp of air, tasting it's familiar sweetness and thinking it is finer than any wine he has supped in his life.
He looks around and at first sees only greenery and sunlight and a weight lifts from his heart. But then, he notices two things, firstly that he cannot immediately see Skyfall and that secondly Robban is lying prone on the ground.
Brawd! he calls, rushing to his fallen friend's side.
The bitterness he feels is real and he swallows it until it forms a knot in his stomach.
Do we truly know this is what he wanted...?
Melo rises padding over to the fallen body of Robban, he wants to say something but nothing will come he simply sits over the body another dead friend.
Whisper looks around at you all, eyes drinking in, before she simply stokes a banked fire, heating an old, blackened iron helm filled with fresh water. Crumbling freshly plucked herbs, she stirs them in then retrieves several broad leaves now rolled in to cones. Dipping them in to the liquid, she then pushes them in to your hands and puts slight pressure there to indicate you should drink. The mixture smells sharp.
Aura sips hers numbly, without looking at Robban's body. She hugs her knees and stares in to the distance.
Whisper just nods, meeting each of your gazes without judgement.
Valex sighs heavily, sitting down next to Robban, just staring at the man's peaceful expression for a few long, silent minutes. He shakes his head sadly, then begins looking through their gear for a shovel.
The one-time academic spends a good while digging a proper grave for Robban.
Feldus moves to help Valex dig the grave. On seeing the look of Whisper he pauses his manual labor briefly to say to her. "If you are looking for any sign what we did is the right thing to do...? I honestly don't know." He sighs tiredly.
It feels as if when Kurshu the Undying left...he took all my anger with him. Or maybe it is Robban's death...his death is as it should be...That in of itself is a victory right?
Flynn stands from Robban's body and then does something very unexpected.
He strides to Whisper and wraps his arms around her, pulling her into a fierce embrace. He didn't even know why he did it, only that he needed to hold someone and that despite her stoic silence, he thought she probably needed it too.
It only lasts a moment before he breaks away and wipes at something in his eye.
Where's Skyfall? he asks her.
Melo shifts back to his human form and takes the drink nodding at Whispers he drinks deeply from the cup. Thinking over everything that happened down there.
That wasn't cyn... Did Robban really want to die that badly? We're slowly getting whittled away
Aura answers Feldus with a quiet voice
There are few moral guides out here, perhaps the only compasses that matter are those walking and talking around you...
Whisper sets to with Valex, shifting the dirt with the edge of a roughly-hewn wooden shield she has picked up from somewhere. As Flynn hugs her, she freezes to the spot, muscles bunched as she closes her eyes and stifles the urge to draw a blade. She lays her head on Flynn's shoulder and her hands rest on his arms, then as abruptly as it happened, Flynn breaks away and Whisper picks up the shield again, finishing the shallow hole in preparation for Robban's body.
Flynn feels Skyfall's presence as she caws from above, swooping in to land almost on top of him and buffeting his chest with her head.
Aura looks down at Robban's body.
Will someone say a few words? Do we have a marker for him?
Flynn stands stoically at the graveside, a deep sense of regret in his stomach, but something else too. Envy...?
I've never been one for long speeches or clever words, especially with things the way they are these days.
But Robban was brave and loyal and true. Qualities that were rare enough back before all this and now all but forgotten. He accepted us and stood by us, fought and bled with us.
He was family. he finishes.
By way of a marker he takes the man's greatclub and lifting it above his head, drives it handle first into the freshly dug ground where it stands upright and proud.
Feldus looks down upon the man who he had known for only a brief time. A brief look of regret passes over his face as he realizes he no longer had a chance to learn more about the man. "Family...or Clan, both terms mean the same to my people...I have no members of my Clan left so you all are my clan...my family now, as was Robban. I have no idea if his death served any purpose or not so I won't waste my breath. He made his choice...for good or for ill." He shudders briefly as the memories flood his mind again. "I know we also need to keep moving. Our enemies are not idle and we cannot afford to wait long. We should leave on the morning."
I agree. The sooner I can feel the wind in my hair the better.
Melo just stands next to the grave nodding at all the words spoken, but unable to say his own. As they all pull away saying their last good bye, he kneels down and plants a small oak seed and whispers. "May your spirit be free friend and your body fertiliser this land."
Standing he moves away from the grave. "We've spent too long already, let's move I don't want to bury anyone else."
Valex stands at the grave, traces Pharasma's spiral on his chest, then shoulders his pack with a sharp sigh.
"Alright, then. Lets see what else the Thassilonians may have left for us."
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Lilith stands in a near trance after the experience. She had spoken with a god,. Or near enough one to count. And it was a mighty and terrible experience. Somehow she knew it would be if it were to ever happen. Slowly she comes to herself as she hears people talking and begins to take in her surroundings. Noticing Robban she recalls the dream like experience and nods sadly. Rest then small and mighty Robban. You were stout hearted and a friend to us all.
What a hard choice. I considered UMD but believe I'll go with Acrobatics. It seems thematic for an elf to have a decent score in such a skill I think. Stealth too, but that will have to wait until we awaken another god. :)
Aura nods in satisfaction as Flynn uses Robban's club as a headstone. She briefly embraces Lenneth before moving off to pack her scant things ready with the rest of the group.
Ready to put some distance between you and this place, you make good time heading East, hopefully continuing towards the desert where you saw the Thassilonian bastion. Whisper ranges ahead, though curiously seems to keep you all in sight, perhaps unwilling to travel too far away.
The grass gets darker the closer further you travel, the ground more hilly, making you have to travel as much up and down as you do across and cutting in to your travel time somewhat. Just before sundown you come to a fork of sorts, one path carries on the way you've been going, steadily downwards from hill to hillock, the other crests over a ridge of rock and takes you up and away, though you can see it arcs down after a short way so heads in the same direction.
Melo strides along in front of the pack, picking up any scent or stay track attempting to keep the group on their way without getting lost.
Coming to a fork he looks down both paths and attempts to work out the best way. "We should head for the grassy hillock, we would have a better time foraging and we'll need all we can get for the desert. It will be a little more damagers more close quarters. While the ridge would give us more sight on the surrounding area there wouldnt be much up there to feed off. He steps towards the hillock paths. "Flyn can give us some extra warnings, I'll move ahead a little more and make sure its all clear before the main group comes through." What do you think, he turns around to hear the grounds idea.
"I agree with you Melo, but if that place is good for foraging then others would also see this too." He squints up at the setting sun. "Do you think we can scout ahead before we head towards it? Can we make it before sunset?"
We can if we press on. Flynn says, flying low enough to follow the conversation before sweeping up into the air to get a better view of their surroundings.
"I agree - the hillock route."
Lilith finds ample amounts of bloodflower, which despite the macabre name is generally used as a red dye, and to take the bitterness from other concoctions. She is also able to locate some burdock root, which whilst it doesn't make a meal on its own, might help bulk out a stew.
Melo is able to locate some edible grass, so when you stop for the night, you could cook a passable stew. Nourishing but not particularly flavorsome.
There is no shelter amongst the hillocks. Flynn's last sight of the horizon before the sun's rays become too dim for him to see are that within another day's march the party will reach the edge of the hills and reach the scrubland that borders the desert.
Valex will do what he can to rig a noisemakers outside the perimeter of the camp, to give the group a bit of warning if something comes calling in the night.
Feldus does a circle around the hillock in his rat form using his scent to determine if any predators have lurked nearby.
Flynn sets up the fire with what pieces of dry wood he can find and stokes it up to a nice red glow.
The desert isn't far now. A day or two at most I would say. It's funny, but for ages now it seems like I have just been desperate to get there. To move on.
But when I do I have no idea what we will do there. This place, this hidden fortress or weapon or whatever it is, it may not even exist and if it does it could be anywhere.
He pokes the fire once more and then throws on the stick.
I think we should spend a few days here and gather what supplies we can. It's going to be scant pickings in the scrubland and next to nothing in the desert.
Valex's trap seems sturdy enough to provide early enough warning should the groaners appear in the night.
Feldus and Lilith walk the area and catalog the sights and sounds, it appears that the area hasn't been heavily travelled, although Lilith's eagle-eyes vision spots an old game trail, with what appear to be some weeks old snares set along it. Aside from that distant touch of the livings presence, the area seems quiet.
Aura and Whisper sit around the fire, simply staring in to the flickering flames, each lost in their own inner worlds.
At one point, Lilith's acute hearing picks up the scrape of claws on wood, but it turns out to be an owl, head turning, turning, then it is gone, swooping low after unseen prey.
Flynn goes through his usual morning routine of gathering his gear, washing with what water he has and brushing down Skyfall.
As he busies himself he asks over his shoulder to those awake;
So what do you think about my suggestion last night, staying here in the hills a while and gathering supplies? I don't know when next we might have a chance.
"Flyn we only have hope left. We can hope that something will be there." He says before sitting down and begins to meditate for the night.
Early morning he goes to prays alone, asking for power from the earth. Before moving back to the group. "We can try and gather up what we can, I think it's smart to check out this area a little more. The desert is a harsh place, I can supply us with some water but finding food will be hard.