Wamblee does his best to block out the pain of the golem's blow while returning his own. Even though it sounds like his kin are coming out on top, Wamblee does not wish to tarry.
Iniga walks up to the Inquisitor, heat radiating off her. "You can burn in whatever afterlife you end up in for all I care" she snarls, shoving her blade into the mans chest.
Another silver golem falls to Wamblee's stone fists, his feet planted in the way of the Root.
Iniga slams her blade into the easy target of a kneeling inquisitor.
Combat Over!
"And what do you dream of, magician?"
With the last golem felled, Wamblee rushes to the side of his kin.
If the Inquisitor makes so much as a suspicious hand gesture, Wamblee wants to be ready to grapple and interrupt.
"I dream of elemental mastery."
As the inquisitor slumps, Samen drops his staff and pulls out his carving quill. He quickly sets about tracing Benthic runes into the dying el's flesh. Hoping there's enough life left to bleed out, he completes the ritual to make him a water-husk.
Ky La utters some nonsense before he dies, tibes or tines or something similar. The spell hooks into him unevenly, the water rising to his head. The head quickly bursts, and you are left with both robe and skin (below the neck, anyway) intact.
The inquisitor is dead.
You all set to work to finish collecting the salt. Samoon heals Byron and Instra, using the last of his infusions for the day. Marianne burns the inquisitor's body in a sealed room that contains a waste chute.
There is an air of expectation afoot as you make ready to pour the salt upon the main stockpile of cwmwl. It is like a buildup of static electricity, clouds of tension floating above you and making your neck hair stand on end.
At a signal from Marianne, you pour the salt simultaneously, Byron having shared one last draught of strength between you. The result is instantaneous - the cwmwl shrinks under the dehydrating effects of the salt. Strong, gagging wafts of iodine billow off of the stockpile, withering to a used, inert brown. Dead as Dirt.
Yet with your work done, you hear...or feel...a detonation--both physical and spiritual--from far above you. Not necessarily in the city of Light, but farther.
What could make such a sound?
"Uh-oh. That can't be good."
"What if we just stay down here in the basement, and hide from the loud noises? I bet I could whip us up something drinkable with the lab ethanol..."
At the sound from above, Wamblee inhales and exhales, any thoughts of respite after destroying the cwmwl as dead as the elemental mass and Dirt alike.
"Hold that thought, Samoon. If we survive what is coming next *and* have a break before the next crisis, *then* you can get to making laboratory finest. But first, we see what the current crisis is."
With that, Wamblee makes for the door.
Up the stairs, you hear one more of the detonations. Opening a final ceramic door to the outside, you are amazed by how clear the night is. There is not a cloud in Sky, and all the local celerity has been shut down. Your natural darkvision extends a ways and keeps you from utter blindness, but that is currently little comfort.
One last thundering explosion, and you see it this time -- the dome that Wamblee and Instra failed to enter -- the spherical ceramic roof blows outward, with silver liquid light beaming out from the wreckage in living waves of oozing power.
You see now this beam joins with others, miles above the city, from similarly broken buildings. But nothing from the stockpile you ruined. There is briefly the outline of a large circle, but this collapses into a different shape, violent now, suddenly lighting up the night with a magnesium-white apocalypse-
that stops just as suddenly. Your eyes are painfully blinded for a full minute, but with effort you are able to blink the afterimages of pale laughing faces away.
Now up in the Sky, directly above the city of Light...there is a Smile. A pure white crescent whose light bathes you in malignant brass laughter.
You hear now, in the night, the sound of thousands of sylphs, chanting,
"Well Volc. Shall we flee?"
"Yes, let's do that right now."
Samen,
Krissa comes flying down from around a corner-- literally flying, though you had no idea she knew magic. Landing with a few leaping bounces, she bounds up next to you. She is smoking a bitter black cigarette that somehow survived the journey.
"I thought I would find you around here, making trouble." Amazingly, she hands you Samoon's cross-staff. "That will make it all better, right?"
Samen's brain is struggling to keep up with developments, and Krissa's sudden presence isn't helping. "Uh, thanks? I guess this means we don't need to kill Joseph now."
He hands it over to Samoon. "This is yours. Any idea how to make all this," gesturing at the city tearing itself apart, "better?"
"Maybe the four elementals together can combat this thing? We'd probably need to find Abby first."
Krissa giggles, and blows out black cigarette snoke.
Samen grins. At least that makes more sense now. "Thought that might be you, but I didn't want to spoil your surprise. Nice to see you again. You've got great taste in elles. What is that thing, how do we stop it, and how's life in our world treated you?"
"That is a god. We must run. Your brother should use his strange staff to get us all to what you call the Breathless Valleys. Now. The rest later." She smiles back at you, the effect different from the natural smile you remember.
Samoon's brow furrows at Abby's words. Everyone, back inside, away from those awful beams of light. I feel them on my skin, and in my head.
The ceramic walls block out the light, and most of the noise.
"Better. Samen, is that inquisitor's skin still usable? I think that whatever god this is, their elens might have a natural resistance to the Valleys. Can you do your weird elemental thing and help me get a self-sustaining life-bubble around us?"
Wamblee does not reply until the group has raced back indoors.
"Do it, brothers."
"Alright. I'll stop trying to deface it, so to speak, and try to extract its elemental properties into my staff. I wish I understood it better, but I might be able to use its reflective properties to enhance and sustain your bubble. I wish I knew the right runes."
Samen does his best to absorb whatever latent magic there might be from the skin to be channeled for their own purposes.
Samoon laughs and laughs. "You can just keep making copies of the skin, and that reflects the light of the bubbles! It's like we're all wearing suits made of his stupid copies. Hahaha!" You can tell there is a note of sylph madness in his voice...but somemtimes a bit of sylph madness can make extraordinary things happen.
He becomes somber again. "Samen, ask your dreadful woodcut to bring us to the nearby Valley. We're close enough - I think it would love to drag us closer, like gravity. Everyone gather round, don a lightsuit, and make ready for a trip through one of the Breathless Valleys. We can use it like a tunnel, and get the hell away from this city and that smiling thing."
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Samen looks up and glances around the party with tired concern in his eyes. He looks at Mar, Byron, and Instra, checking for madness. He looks at Wamblee for stability and Iniga for resolve. He looks at Abbigailiwy, hoping fruitlessly for some sort of explanation.
"I don't know how this duplication is working, I don't know how it will keep us alive, and I don't know how in all creation Samoon somehow knows Mr. Dust can, and would be willing to, transport us. I suspect he is playing host now, much like Krissa."
He listens to the muffled cacophony of a city tearing itself apart outside. "There's no chance of making it out on foot, especially for the Sylphs among us. I'm inclined to put our lives in the hands of the elementals that aren't trying to kill us this very instant versus the alternative. Those of you who are still you... what say you?"
"This Smile thing is horrible. I want to get away from Light and from the awful music that's playing out there. Any way out is a way out."
"I do not understand why this plan might work. But it might while walking will surely not. So we take this chance - and hope."
Samoon makes a short wave with his cross-staff, surrounding all of you in auras of white light that outline you in a bubble. The air feels clean, filtered.
The eldest brother nods to the youngest. Samen, you let the Dust-being exert its heavy will upon the world-
and a deep gravity takes hold of all of you, and somehow the ground is naturally sloping downward at an ever quickening pace, east, away from Light, away from Volcano, speeding down warped slopes of forest and road, down, east, down...
...inevitable.
The pressure is immense for one terrible moment, squeezing you from all sides like a giant fist,
but Samoon's life bubbles glow brighter, and the pressure eases. You can breathe again. The air is still fresh, though you are quite sure there is nothing--a literal vacuum--on the other side of your bubbles.
You are inside the Breathless Valley. Translucent hills, vague outlines, sweep ever downward. Faint pinpoints of light are all around, but they are deceptively far away, adding to the disorientation of the place.
"Oh my Sky...the little elemental in my staff is talking to me again...he says those are stars, like in those old myths dad used to tell us. Those tiny little lights all around us..." Tears stream down his face. "That's where they've been hiding...these are his brothers..." He hugs himself, clearly in distress, but not in danger.
Samen drops to the ground, unsteady on his feet, but happy to be alive. "Woof. What a place to catch our breath."
He focuses his will on the Dust elemental. For however much or little it means to you, thank you. You saved us.
He looks around himself at the serene and alien landscape and twinkling lights. He tries to focus his mind by recounting what facts he knows.
"The quadra-elemental system is a lie. There are at least two more, Light and... Mirror? Could be there are more. Many more. The inquisitor was an el of Mirror, likely taking that form later in life. Possibly a boon of that god, or possibly through elen machinations."
He turns to Krissa-Abby. "Alright. We're finally here. You four were our legacy. Protecting you was our heritage. What's next?"
The sound of gravedirt laughter, and nothing more from the woodcut.
"This is a temporary place for all but the elementals and the dead, Samen. You must decide where you are going to go, and then take the long walk across the Valley." She continues smoking, as if you are still in a place with air.
"Cedar Smoke? Maybe somewhere deeper in Forest? Certainly, the further away from the light of Moon, the better."
"Dad said in his journal that these relics would point the way to Sky. So far, we've stopped a civil war in Forest, and sucker-punched a newborn god." She smiles.
"Samoon always had the dream of climbing Volcano, finding the way to Sky - I think we may need to do that, and show the true face of Sky, rather than this Smiling Sky. He feels like an imposter, a cheap copy, to me."
Samen groans as he stands back up. His wounds are still sore and his mind exhausted. "'Moon', eh? Never heard of it. No elen texts I've ever found speak of it. If it lived beyond the Dark, perhaps the Dark has been a merciful protector this whole time. You're right, though. Far away is better. How is Krissa feeling about her almost surely dead or insane brother?"
He turns to his own insane sibling. "Even if these bubbles could protect us from the poisonous air on Volcano, there's still the raging heat and even ragier elementals to deal with. Even then, how is that going to help bring back Sky?"
He looks around at the assembled, demoralized crew. "You know what. Volc it. Ever since we left Rokerenge, we've been running from one place to the next, looking for help and solace. We've done some good along the way, but there's been no unburdening. No refuge. No answers." He points off to the west. "No hope. If you want to climb it, I'm game."
Answering your question about Krissa, "I wouldn't know. She died when I took over, and I killed Joseph afterwards." She smiles. "They were your enemies, right? Are you pleased with me?"
Sane-looking for the moment, Samoon gently smiles at Marianne. "Don't put words in my mouth, sis. That may have been my dream once, but now I'm just looking for Bree."
You walk a long way, Samoon's light keeping fresh air inside your bubbles. "Here. Get ready for another of those crushers."
Addressing Samen, "Don't ask for help from Stof, your Dust genie, again. He has a price. So goodbye, family. And don't worry. Bree is here, and I'm going to find her."
He gives you just enough time to realize what he means, he hugs you all quickly, and,
-another giant's fist of icy pressure, crushing-
goodbye
-now stepping onto snow-crusted grasslands, on top of a hill looking north, River running south, Volcano to the far north, and another ifrit city in front of you - the largest of all.
Hearth is a city of the Cauldron Lady - you see her glowering figure on the huge stone statue right outside of town. The Grand Temple, located at the heart of Hearth, is built from huge blocks of true obsidian. The Temple looms above the city walls, hundreds of feet tall, seven or eight tiers high. You see a yellow-brown road heading down the hill, toward the city gates, populated with pogona-drawn wagons of winter wheat and turnips and potatoes.
Answering your question about Krissa, "I wouldn't know. She died when I took over, and I killed Joseph afterwards." She smiles. "They were your enemies, right? Are you pleased with me?"
"Not me, I'm not particularly pleased" Iniga grumps slightly. "We retreated from a fight which isn't really something that was heavily promoted from my days in the army. You can call it a tactical withdrawal if you like, but it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. As for you killing Joseph, I'm not particularly thrilled about that either. He was undoubtedly a jerk who pissed a lot of people off, but if I killed everyone who pissed me off there would be a heck of a lot more corpses in the world. Like you, for instance. I could have killed Joseph myself if I had wanted - he didn't seem to be a particularly hard target."
Goodbye, Samoon. I hope you find her.
Samen jumps in to Abby's defense. "Calm down, Iniga. Fretting over it won't bring them back. I'm not particularly sure where Abby got the idea that they were our enemies, since she was the one who set up Joseph in the first place, but she was merely acting according to her nature. Elemental ethics are a complicated and alien thing. Our selective compassion is as confusing to her as her indiscriminate violence is to us.
We cannot think of these elementals as merely magic elens. They are different. It isn't helpful to think of them as good vs evil, or right vs wrong. A better, but constantly fluctuating, axis might be helpful vs dangerous."
He gently grabs Abby by the shoulders and looks into her smoldering eyes. "Krissa and Joseph were related to our enemy, but they were not our enemies. I am saddened that nothing remains of Krissa but her body. She was always good to me. As for Joseph, while his death was unnecessary, in a strange way, it may have been a mercy."
"Shared roots, Samoon, and good luck.", Wamblee says to the wind.
He turns to his kin - and the elemental.
"Abbygailiwy, if you care if we are pleased or not, you should speak with us about your plans before you carry them out, when it is possible."
She shrugs. "A fair point." Her eyes go distant, toward the city down the hill. "You should stop and eat some of your food. We've been walking a long time, and your bodies are going to get hungry."
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Iniga glance at Samen with a confused look. "I am calm. I understand that she was acting according to her nature. I'm pointing out to her that if we solve problems like she, an elemental does, then she wouldn't be here. Its our compassion, that she doesn't understand, that still lets her stand before us. I'm just saying if she wants to impress us, she can solve problems like an el, or, if she doesn't know, to ask us. Which is basically what Wamblee just articulated."
"As for his death being a mercy, I doubt it. Dude was rich and influential, he was probably having a ton of fun. Sure, he hated Samoon and the rest of us, but its unlikely his final thoughts were "yay, I died". People generally want more time before they check out, not less."
Iniga broods for a moment before shrugging. "At any rate, we need to be careful within the city. I kicked over a hornets nest by sending that priest back to Hearth which means Locatelli, Mr. Abacus, and probably the entirety of Efreeti Tango know I have the Hand. Fortunately, we have that mercenary company I befriended, I should probably pay them a visit at some point."
"As for other things, we should probably notify the Grand Temple that a giant smile in the sky appeared. I don't know about Mirror or anything, but when we defeated the magician bros, and lifted the corruption - they mentioned laughter which was exactly what the face in the sky did. Safe to assume whatever corrupted the oreads was behind the cwmwl plan. Also, I think we heard about some unrest here, something about some revolutionary oreads? We should meet with them, ensure they know about the Tribe of Peace we are trying to generate, maybe try and include Ifrits into the alliance. Lastly, I wouldn't mind eliminating Efreeti Tango, and also climbing the Volcano for personal reasons"
"Food. Good point.", Wamblee replies to Abby, seizing rations and roughly tearing off a piece with his teeth.
While he listens to Iniga, he devours the food he has in hand before replying.
"There certainly does seem to be a grand plan in motion and even the steps are causing woe to el-kind. I am ready to start working through that list, Iniga. All of it."
Samen blinks. "Oh sorry, I got the impression that you were ready to fight or something. My mistake. What I meant about mercy was that it might be better to be dead than under Moon's thumb as a mad puppet."
"You've got a body now too, Abby. It'll need more than cigarettes to keep going."
"Those all sound like lovely aspirations, but let's find a place to rest first, shall we? One thing at a time"
Forge was officious and vigilant, giving out day passes to those who did not live in the city. Light was curious and cautious, using their eagle-visor guardelens to identify any potential threats.
Hearth, on the other hand, is casual and indifferent. The southern gate, painted a brilliant blue, is open. To your right, boats row and sail in River, going in and out out the ports inside the city. Guards watch lazily from the tops of the walls, but hardly anyone is singled out. Hearth is an easy city to get into.
"You still have it wrong, Samen. When I'm in this body, it doesn't need food. I don't think the heart is beating either. I'm using the lungs out of convenience."
Grinding the cigarette butt with her heel, she says, "As for living under rotten gods- I thought you would all know, being subjugated by Volcano, how bad it can be to live under a mad god's rule. Moon is just more flippant about it."
You all notice two things:
First, that the air feels different, closer to spring than you recall. With either magic or intuition, you feel that a considerable amount of time has passed during your brief but tortuous stay in the Valley.
Second, you can see past Volcano, northeast toward Light. One moment, that patch of Sky is black and featureless; the next, you see the crescent smile--made tiny by the miles--hovering above the doomed sylphan city, nearly giving the impression that Moon followed you here.
Samen rests his head tenderly against what was once Krissa's bosom, listening to verify Abbygailiwy's claim. Standing upright, "I had similar results with my experiments implementing the method Stof taught me. I thought I was doing something wrong, but it appears to just be the way of things. I was planning to offer you a suitable body when we met again, but it seems I was wasting my time."
As they walk, following Iniga's lead, he asks something that had been bothering him for a while. "So what was the deal with Erret? What did he have that was of use to you? We met, and killed, him again, y'know."
Iniga leads the group to a comfortable inn where they can eventually rest for the night. She knows the streets like the back of her hand and its a simple matter for her to find a suitable location
"Do any of you want to come with me on some of my errands? We should probably head towards the Temple sooner or later and I'd prefer we speak to them as a group, but I know how some of you feel about ifrits in general. Its up to you guys."
Wamblee listens carefully for any response that Abby makes to Samen's question.
When Iniga speaks of errands, he replies.
"Like I said before, I am ready to work through that list. Though Samen does have a point about us needing somewhere to rest."