Once again, So Khong leads you down the wide staircase outside the Temple. As the afternoon wears on, the air turns ever colder and Volcano's light begins to fade into duller, darker oranges.
Once again, the narrow opening to the sub-levels yawns open, threatening to swallow you whole. The Temple looms above you, as if the entire population of inquisitors and priests watches your every move.
Once again, you steel yourselves against the very real possibility of a painful death at the hands of a ravening darkspawn. The memory of Brinn's death is still fresh in your minds, just waiting behind your eyelids.
So Khong says nothing - no words of encouragement, no promises of glory. He simply watches you descend.
Turning to glare at Ibinu, "Do not try to shame someone for having faith simply because you have none. Thus far Inam has been a wonderful representation of how the devoted should act."
Does anything other than money motivate that one? she wonders as they descend the stairs. Considering Kallik's cautionary words Stoney is right...If all I see is read, how can I recognize Volcano's nuisance guidance...
Upon reaching the bottom, Inam stops suddenly. Bowing to one knee, she closes her eyes. "Volcano, steady my mind as you've steadied my sword. Help me to focus on the task at hand."
After her plea, she stands abruptly, releasing a heavy sigh and looks around the room.
Ibinu listens to the other sand then pausing long enough to think, he replies...I don't knock the people for the faith and beliefs they have; I knock the assumption that gods are needed and one can't be perfectly fine without them. I have never received anything from the gods except my curse so what have I to "believe" in a good god or a bad on for that matter.
And don't get me wrong, I do so love making friends with So as we engage in this rousing conversation.
The last is said with a sweeping bow mocking the silence on So Khongs part.
Down the first short hallway, nothing moves. The putrid corpses of the small pod of darkspawn you first fought ooze their ichor upon the obsidian floor. Cautiously, you make your way down the short flight of stairs to the longer hallway, where you fought the large darkspawn and its minions.
Narrowing her eyes and glaring at Ibinu but her reply dies on her lips. Tilting her head to the side as she listens to something, "There is something in the last cell. We should try to be quiet and sneak up on it?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
replies Inam; her words echoing off the stone walls.
With a yawn that shakes it's tiny mound of feathers, Etrah looks around.
Oh, good. You are awake. Lazy bird....won't even walk...
"Any idea what's ahead?"
Flinching at the noise Inam makes, "Perhaps sneaking is not the best option." Quietly following Bian.
Ibinu draws his sword and waits. I've never been the quiet kind with anything no use trying now.
Nodding as her two companions quietly proceed, she waits patiently with Ibinu.
We haven't need stealth yet...but perhaps it would be useful to know what we are facing before it knows us.
As Inam's proclamation fades, there is a tense silence as Kallik and Bian quietly move forward. The last cell comes into view, its door hanging open like a slack jaw.
When the two are about thirty feet away from the cell, Bian steps on an arrow from the earlier battle, which snaps loudly. There is a rustling sound, somehow...wet, that creeps out of the tiny room. Kallik and Bian are still too far away to see in.
From the cell, a quavering old-man voice mutters, "Son, is that you? Son? Can you hear me?" The voice trails away, and the rustle-squish is all that can be heard.
Can those things talk? Staying just behind Bian and waiting for a response.
"Is he here? Son?" squish-squelch.
Unnerved by the sounds coming from the cell, Inam whispers "Can you see what it is yet? Is it one of those things?"
Leaning forward, she strains to hear better.
Son? Would the high inquisitor allow family members to visit the dungeons? This seems wrong....
Crawling into view is an old, old ifrit. His dull red face is a wasteland of pockmarks and wrinkles. He makes it halfway out of the cell before giving up, his head thudding on the hard obsidian floor.
"Son?" he mutters to no one.
The old ifrit's voice takes on a whining, petulant tone. "No! You're too bright!" Spit sprays out of his gap-toothed mouth on the last word.
In truth, it is not spit at all, but a geyser of some foul, oily liquid. Even as it clings to the old man's lips, strands of it start to wrap around Bian's arms.
Watching the man struggle, Inam frowns.
Poor, poor elen! Desperate for his son...
Before she can react, Bian charges to his aid. Her kindness, of course, not going unpunished.
"What that?!"
"We have done nothing be want to help you. Please calm down."
Bian is entangled by the clinging strands of grime. The old ifrit hardly even seems to take notice of Bian's plight or Kallik's words; he is still muttering to himself.
Declare Actions.
"Bian!" screams Inam.
Not again. Not so soon... she considers as she charges forward. Should I cut the tendrils or the elen? Is he beyond saving?
Reaching the old ifrit, her decision is made. Bringing her blade down directly on his frail body.
As the sylph passes their new inquisitor, Etrah flaps his wings once and flutters down behind the undine. With a gentle peck, he blesses the young lady.
Ibinu draws himself to full height and bellowing Scum he rushes forward.
Resigning herself to this and stepping forward with her blade raised high then slamming it down.
The combined might of Kallik, Inam, and Ibinu crash upon the frail ifrit. Your blades bite deeply into his flesh, carving it into an unrecognizable mass of meat. Oddly, there is no blood spatter. The muttering stops, and the ifrit goes still.
Now that you are all closer to the old elen, you can see that his lower half--hidden by the cell before--is...not present. Where legs and feet should be, there is only a sticky-looking puddle.
However, before you have a chance to wonder how he could be alive with such a grievous injury, more black tendrils shoot out, from the very wounds you just inflicted.
Ibinu gasps as the black tendrils attatch themselves to his lower body. Grunting at being hampered with the tendrils on him he slices at the largest of the ones attatched to him
If it can grab it can be "grabbed" by my sword.
Grunting when the oily tendrils wrap around her. Now far less focused on attacking whatever has grabbed her and far more focused on needing to be free.
Staring down at the eviscerated body, remorse creeping in her consciousness, she wonders 'Did we do the right thing?'
Suddenly the gooey, black limbs shoot out and wrap around her. "What? How..." Her eyes glazing over, she tightens her hold on the blade.
"Just die you vile creatures!" Swinging her weapon, she attempts to sever the tendrils holding her.
Inam powers through the sticky tendrils, slicing through them as her sword blazes red.
Ibinu struggles to lash out at the strands that hold him. As he swings, the black strands pull on him unexpectedly, causing his blade to go in a completely different direction - Inam is surprised to feel a deep cut in her right shoulder
Kallik attempts to break free of her bonds, but she is held tight.
Bian's longspear misses the mark, but the attack is not redirected.
Bian, Kallik, and Ibinu are still held within the dark grasp of the creature. The bonds constrict further; they are now tight enough to cut into your skin
[ooc]Full round to attempt to break grapple[/oooc]
"Oww" exclaims the sylph, looking to her wound. Turning to Bian, she mumbles "Not this time!"
Bringing her sword to bear, she swings for the tendrils rooting the inquisitor in place.
Inam slashes through Bian's bonds.
Ibinu continues to struggle within his own confines.
Kallik's attack is redirected to Inam
Bian's attack misses as the remains of the old ifrit brokenly shuffle backwards. The mass of blood and bone that used to be its head shies away from the blaze of Inam's sword.
Growling at her choice in weapon since close range is a horrible choice for her. Sucking in a deep breath to calm herself. Loosing my temper would not help now. I would simply injure someone else.
Tightening her grip on her weapon and slashing it down at the tendrils wrapped around Ibinu.
"Get these things off of me!"
"Stoney, watch where you put that thing!" gripes Inam.
Swinging her sword at the tendrils holding Kallik, she offers "Perhaps this will help your aim."
Inam frees Kallik, sword still blazing with righteous flame.
Ibinu struggles against his bonds, but the dark tendrils hold him tight.
Kallik, now freed, turns her blade to Ibinu's bonds, which dissolve instantly against the bright green fire that erupts from her weapon.
Bian steps into the cell to pursue the beast, carefully keeping her distance as she stabs it with her spear. The broken beast continue to shrink backward, and Bian misses again.
As you step into the cell, you find the answer; there is a pile of bones, stripped clean of all flesh and sinew, scattered in the back corners. The elen-thing is starting to...flow onto some of the other bones, and leaving the old ifrit's bones behind.
Ibinu moves into the cell where Bian is, feeling very irritated at the thing. Then attacks 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12damage: 1d10 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11