Morvius grins at Talon, whispering back - in AURAN so as not to be understood by the priest - "I wasn't going to do anything *much* - I was just, you know ... thinking about it..."
He winces as Halthus continues to speak in Abyssal: "I absolutely that language; almost as much as I hate goblins. How can you possibly draft a proper contract when all the words randomly change their meaning every odd number of years?"
Morvius pauses, continuing to whisper in Auran:
"Do you want to put a bet on whether he's the begging type, or the more stoical type?"
[Edited for accuracy by The Management]
Morvius grins at Talon, whispering back - in AURAN so as not to be understood by the priest - "I wasn't going to do anything *much* - I was just, you know ... thinking about it..."
He winces as Halthus continues to speak in Abyssal: "I absolutely that language; almost as much as I hate goblins. How can you possibly draft a proper contract when all the words randomly change their meaning every odd number of years?"
Morvius pauses, continuing to whisper in Auran:
"Do you want to put a bet on whether he's the begging type, or the more stoical type?"
[Edited for accuracy by The Management]
With a rueful smile, Caladwhen holds out a hand towards the cell door while adding in a congenial tone "Well of course, we had no intention of imprisoning one of our own; you'll understand it was simply a precaution, we couldn't predict what you might do when we brought you back."
Clapping her hands together with some resolution, Caladwhen adds in a polite tone "Oret my dear, if you would be so kind as to open the door for Halthus?" As Caladwhen claps, a few notice T'larryo fly over and land on Talons shoulder, nuzzling close to his ear.
Once the prison cell is open, Caladwhen will place her left hand on Halthus' shoulder, in an ever so mildly seductive manner while drawing herself closer to him. Placing out her right hand, Caladwhen will breathlessly whisper "Now, the eye? Then lets you and I go take a look at those murals; I'd very much like a learned interpretation."
Talon keeps his hand firm on Morvius, not enough to hurt but enough to tell him Don't do anything.
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After Oret opens the cell door, Halthus slowly steps outside, still feeling somewhat stiff from eighty-years of rock'n'roll.
With a dramatic bow, he presents the third eye to Caladwhen, whispering quietly as she picks it up.
Drawing himself up to his full 5"5, he starts to smile, and offers Caladwhen his arm. For a death priest, he's not an entirely unpleasant person to be around - somewhat naive, maybe, but kind and unassuming.
It's obvious that his 80-year hibernation has taken away some of his mental skills - but perhaps smoothing out some sharp edges was just what this former torturer needed, to become a genuinely pleasant fellow.
You're all here to restore Vetra Kali - that's great. And Cala is very pretty. He could've been dead! Instead, he'd rather watch everyone else die, holding hands with Caladwhen.
Smiling, he gently steers towards the hallway leading from the cell, through the courtyard, all the way around to end up in 2-21.
Cala will get a pm directly. I'm assuming Cala fills in at least *some* of the blanks of what happened during his absence.
Talon eyes him as he walks away. Oh he's in for a surprise.
Taking his cue from the others' reaction, Morvius looks scornfully on as the priest totters out of the cell: "Such a waste when they go soft like that; I imagine he might have been something to reckon with 80 years ago. We'll be doing him a favour really..."
Having watched the debrief to this point and taken note, Morvius has no taste for following behind Caladwhen and Halthus and listening to more of that interminable Abyssal.
Instead, he will spend the rest of the day going through the Horn (particularly the lowest level and higher level, which he hasn't seen yet) and looking for any further access points that we don't yet know about.
If invited, Talon will go with Morvius to check out the other floors. Should speed up the process since he already knows where the majority of things are.
If invited, Talon will go with Morvius to check out the other floors.
"The more the merrier - might as well get something done while Little Miss Iconography is having her ... private tuition with our victim."
"The more the merrier - might as well get something done while Little Miss Iconography is having her ... private tuition with our victim."
Talon grunts, shoving Morvius along. "Cala can take care of herself."
Returning after several hours from the Hall of Murals, Caladwhen seems thoughtful and inquisitive. Stepping into the light, she appears to be holding a wine bottle in each of her hand. Approaching the others, Caladwhen quickly tosses a bottle at Talon and Aerent with a slight grin "Drink up gentlemen, there is plenty more where that came from."
Heading over towards a nearby bench, the lithe elf gracefully sits down, tucking her legs behind her and leans on her right arm. "That turned out to be a rather informative afternoon as it so happens. The Horn seems to hold a great many secrets, the most useful of which being the ability to summon a wide variety of creatures to our aid when the time calls for it."
After explaining the various summoning intricacies of the Horn, Caladwhen sits upright again and begins leafing through her backpack. Drawing forth another bottle of wine, Caladwhen uncorks it. Strangely, Caladwhen simply sets it aside and merely reaches again into her backpack, this time very carefully retrieving an exquisite emerald which she also sets it aside while reverently whispering "The Eye of Withering; a tool of some power I am to understand. I have discerned how to activate it." Holding out her free hand, Caladwhen looks towards Aerent "If you would be so kind as to hand me one of your knives Aerent." Upon receiving the dagger, Caladwhen makes very a quick incision on the palm of her other hand, drawing a controlled stream of blood. Setting the dagger down, she quickly grabs the Eye, and holds her injured hand above it, clenching her fist to force her own blood to douse the Eye of Withering.
As Cala is about to drip blood on the Eye, Talon gently grabs her arm to stop her. "Let me take a look at it, I might know something about it."
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the effects? Anyone's guess...
Time seems to crawl to a stop as Talon releases the slight Elf's delicate hand, and the determined necromancer allows a few droplets of blood drip onto the third eye of Vetra Kali - the Withering Eye.
Drip.
Drip, drip.
Drip.
Then, the giant jewel comes to life.
An inner fire sparks up inside the gem, shining brightly at first, but then exploding into an ever-extending, sickly greenish light, which soon covers the entire room - but it does not stop there, oh no...
While a voice from inside the gem quietly whispers over and over, in a far-away, ghostly voice "Khazara Lek**", the light still creeps forward, as if it had a mind of its own, until within minutes, the entire floor is bathed in it.
As soon as the jewel starts whispering, you can see Cala feels some hidden inner strength come to life, and she is ex-tre-me-ly pleased with the results. I'd say The phrase 'giddy as a schoolgirl' would apply, but I can't tell what Cala is doing right now.
Assuming you investigate the stimulating emotion you receive after triggering the eye's ability, you quickly find the following:
The Withering Eye was the magical focus used to first summon Vetra-Kali from the lower planes to the prime material. It is thus perfectly attuned to Vetra-Kali, and as a consequence it is a powerful channel for daemonic energy. The Withering Eye, when placed in the statue of Vetra-Kali, descrecates (as the spell except it affects both undead and daemons) the entire Horn of Abaddon.
oh, and The Eye is also a critical component of the ritual to destroy the Silver Seal and return Vetra-Kali to the prime material plane. but hey, who cares -- You get to have an army, man!
The Withering Eye, like all the Eyes of Vetra-Kali can only be destroyed by permanently slaying Vetra-Kali Eats-the-Eyes on his home plane of Abaddon. If this is ever done, the three eye-jewels shatter into emerald shrapnel, worth a paltry 6,000 gp.
There is a strong chemistry between the three eyes - If all three of the Eyes of Vetra-Kali are united in the statue of Vetra-Kali in the Sanctum, then each of the eyes grants a power onto those within. The details remain vague for now - but you are quite sure it's helpful.
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Firing a mildly annoyed glance at Talon, the very determined Necromancer does her best to pull his hand away from his grasp. After realizing the futility of fighting his grip, Calawhen changes her tact and speaks in a hushed and reassuring tone "It's okay Talon, I'll be fine; I know what I'm doing. You can let go now." Freeing her hand, Cala is finally able to activate the Eye with her blood.
As the Horn is explodes in an illumination of sickly green light, Caladwhen's breathing appears to quicken as her eyes widen with a madening look of what can only be described as pure elation. After a moment, Caladwhen begins to laugh uncontrollably, a fit hysteria overtaking her normally placid and reserved demeanor. In an attempt to contain herself, Cala places her injured hand over mouth, which seems only to enhance the mania as she smears her own blood on her face.
Dropping her hand, Caladwhen rises slowly all the while staring into the Eye of Withering, which she holds aloft reverently in-front of her. Finally, her laughter ceases and Caladwhen falls unnervingly quiet and still before finally whispering
Ignoring Halthus' attempt to communicate with her, Caladwhen speaks quietly with a wicked grin, never taking her eyes of the artifact in her hand "In my hands, this is a weapon of untold power. I will raise an army of the dead, one that will strike terror in the hearts of our enemies." Finally lifting her gaze off the Eye of Withering, her grin dissolves into stoic resolve as she utters in her unfamilar and horrible dialect
Morvius watches with interest as Cala's blood spatters on the jewel and it flares into life - the green glow reflects ... oddly in his yellow eyes.
As the flaring burst spreads from the gem and covers the room, Morvius' expression changes. His pipe drops out of his mouth - caught absent-mindedly in his prehensile tail - and he utters several vile, abominable, blasphemous curses before running out of the room, following the flare as it spreads over the Horn.
He returns as Cala is speaking:
"I will raise an army of the dead, one that will strike terror in the hearts of our enemies.
Morvius' hands are visibly shaking as he endeavours to re-light his pipe. Once this is achieved and he has taken a few calming draws on the sulforous tobacco (no smoke rings this time, they're only for when he's pleased), his words are likely to abruptly change the mood:
"And we are likely to REQUIRE such an army, and that right soon. The entire Horn is lit up like a beacon! Remember the difficulty you had finding it? No one else is likely to have that problem. Quite the reverse."
Evil-looking tobacco smoke drifts from Morvius' pipe as he is speaking; the sickly green light from the effects of the gem make it somehow look even more sinister...
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"And we are likely to REQUIRE such an army, and that right soon. The entire Horn is lit up like a beacon! Remember the difficulty you had finding it? No one else is likely to have that problem. Quite the reverse."
I couldn't agree more. 't is a pretty sight, though. Far more impressive than before.
Finally pulling her eyes off the Eye of Withering, Caladwhen places her gaze squarely on Morvius. Her expression is once again detached and wholly lacking emotion, though after a moment she is forced to concur with the Tiefling and nods "Yes of course, this is a problem. I'll admit, lighting up the Horn was not a consequence I foresaw."
Scowling slightly, Caladwhen's attention drifts back towards the Eye.
Aerent finally breaks his pensive silence, "Well, with this green fire letting everybody within a hundred miles know this place exists, we need to move up our plans. The ritual, building the defenses of the Horn, and notifying our friends in Farholde so they can support our efforts in whatever way they can."
Aerent looks at Caladwhen, "I was wondering about something. Once the ritual begins, it requires prayers at regular intervals for the entire duration. That could be... inconvenient... for us. Are you able to create undead with the capacity to speak? If not, do you think Ezra's associates would be able to speak the prayers?"
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"Are you able to create undead with the capacity to speak? If not, do you think Ezra's associates would be able to speak the prayers?"
There's the problem of the holy pulse around the seal - Ezra got hurt pretty badly, so lesser undead would likely be instantly rebuked.
You know what they say about minions : If you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself.
Besides - three rituals a day for 222 days; with 6 characters. You'd only need to do it once every 2 days, 111 prayers each. With a simple roster, this would be easy to manage and not much of a bother. Even if for some reason you'd really need to be away from the horn for more than 2 days, you can easily switch your spot on the roster with someone else.
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That evening...
Outside, a figure appears out of the dense jungle. Leaning heavily on a large, yellowed, bone staff, it brushes the leaves and twigs of its robe.
The humanoid creature looks up at the green, shining beacon of the horn. Judging from the wide, toothy smile, the visitor is quite pleased with itself; succesfully arriving at the source of its curiosity, perhaps even its destiny, after what must have been an arduous journey.
Instantly, the figure is approached by both your Mass-Transport-System-Saurus and Kumanda-Risen-By-Elf - but, much to the surprise of anyone watching - instead of tearing the intruder to shreds, the minions show an odd sort of reverence to the new creature. The visiting creature appears to have some sort of unspoken connection with the undead.
The visitor fearlessly and gently pets the hideous skull of the Ankylozombie, which almost purrs like a kitten in response.
Quietly, calmly, the visitor speaks:
While 'the bus' waits outside, Kumanda quietly leads the visitor inside along the side of the horn.
As the undead lead somebody inside Talon twists around in his hammock. He flies to the nearest party member, telling them to spread the word before going down to confront their visitor. He lands with his weapon drawn. "State your business."
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The robed figure looks Talon up and down, appreciating his physical strength. She smiles playfully and points at the undead BaneWog Commander.
"Good Evening to you too. Would you mind telling me who ...upgraded this delightful specimen? It has the techniques of Halimath written all over it - and I don't see those as often as I'd like. I would like to speak to its master, if it isn't too much trouble."
Talon doesn't smile or budge. "Let's keep the conversation focused on you. Why don't you take that hood down and tell me a little about yourself."
In a pleasant almost sing-song tone, the robbed figure responds "Of course, where are my manners. Reaching for the brim of her hood, the figure pulls it down to her shoulders, revealing a lovely young elven girl with shoulder length blond hair and dark brown eyes. Though she appears tall and lithe like so many of her kind, her features are less pronounced than most elves. Though Talon presents a fearsome physical force, she nevertheless appears to quite at ease, smiling and radiating a seemingly familiar confidence.
With a slow and deliberate curtsy, she adds humbly "Náriel Lauric, at your service. " Drawing herself to full height, she looks towards the walking corpse of Kumanda and nods
Taking a necklace of her neck, she hands it over to Kumanda before returning her attention to Talon. Clasping her hands together respectfully, Náriel continues speaking again in common "Now, I understand your concern, but you needn't worry, for I come a friend," looking up towards the horn, Náriel appears awestruck "or at the very least, I come as an admirer of what you have done here in this place. Urgathoa is doubtless pleased to see that the servants of the Horsemen rise once more in Andoran. How grand, truly."
Talon remains still for a moment, taking in what she said. She's respectful...and fearless. Urgathoa, I bet Cala would take to her. Talon sheaths Rygat, motioning for her to enter.
As they reach the others, Talon puts a hand on Náriel's shoulder. "This is Náriel, it seems we have an admirer." Talon glances at her to let her know that's about all he's going to say, but he keeps his hand on her shoulder.
Breaking away from the others, Caladwhen moves towards the slim half-elf holding a delicate necklace in her hand. Moving behind her, Caladwhen places the necklace around her neck and clasps it on. "This is a most fortuitous day; not only have I discovered great power, but an old ally has found her way to me."
Moving around to the front, Caladwhen hazards a half-smile and teases "My dear Náriel, the fact that you are still standing here tells me you still a way with words... Talon is very good at, well, eliminating potential threats." Glancing over at Talon, Caladwhen nods appreciatively "Thank-you for exercising restraint Talon, this one is an old friend from a previous life."
Upon seeing Caladwhen, Náriel seems to beam even more and bows respectfully when addressed by her.
Looking towards the others, Caladwhen announces "I think Náriel and I will retire for a time. We have much to discuss. You'll find me in my chambers if you need me."
With a false start, Caladwhen hesitates a moment before adding "I'm well aware that we need to move quickly. I can retrieve the eye from Ezra, and we can begin the ceremony shortly." Looking over at Talon, Cala nods casually in Halthus' direction but speaks pleasantly so as not to raise suspicion
Náriel escaped the Andoran authorities, and has wondered somewhat aimlessly trying to find signs of what happened to her former master. Finding Caladwhen at this juncture has been her luckiest break in her search, as Cala was viewed by the cult members as an heir apparent of sorts to Halimath's legacy... thus her relief to learn Caladwhen is indeed alive, and growing in power in her own right.
Talon releases the girls shoulder when Cala recognizes her. After they depart he throws an arm around Halthus's shoulder. "When's the last time you've been around? A few things have changed, let me give you a tour..."
"Are you able to create undead with the capacity to speak? If not, do you think Ezra's associates would be able to speak the prayers?"
Morvius raises an eyebrow "Whether or not they could, would we want them to? They aren't really our allies, any more than the Daemons - or those goblins (still think we should wipe them out before we get too busy) - No; we want to keep control of the ritual to prevent ourselves being seen as ... expendable. After all, it's what - 3 prayers a day? There are six of us - that makes one ritual per person every two days. "
Morvius smiles, showing numerous rows of pointed teeth: "Did you have somewhere else you were planning to be? What could possibly be preferable to spending the next lurking in a haunted spire in the middle of an unmapped jungle full of unknown dangers, waiting for people to come and kill us?"
He watches impassively as the stranger arrives and is challenged by Talon; as Nariel and Caladwhen leave and Talon wanders off with Halthus, he muses: "That could have gone a lot worse, considering we weren't keeping a watch; I'm guessing that most of our enemies wouldn't be able to control our undead sentries like that, but I'm going to make some warning systems..."
With that Morvius wanders off to his alchemy lab and to the re-furbished forge; you shortly hear the sound of a hammer pounding against red-hot iron, and the quieter hiss of alchemical reagents bubbling away.
Oret breaks his customary silence, obviously concerned by the surprise appearance of not only the necromancer, but the alchemist as well, and by the possibility of less...accommodating arrivals.
"The Horn is now a beacon of evil power - more will be coming. We need to bolster the defenses of the goblin caves - they are the most obvious and accessible entrance. We need to do what we can there, then upwards, one floor at a time." He gives some thought to observations made when they were exploring the caves initially, as he walks through the caves.
"Sindran - post two goblin sentries here, and instruct them to fall back and warn others if anyone approaches. Your...subjects...will need to be made to understand the importance of this task...and the penalty for failure."
"We should find a way to use this acid. Alchemist, investigate the possibilities."
"A nest of crocodiles from the surrounding area could live here. I will do this, and will not turn down assistance."
"Sindran - assign some of your goblins to hide here, in the mud - perhaps half a dozen or so. They will need to slow any advance into the caves enough for reinforcements to arrive."
"I will bring in some beasts to guard these area. We should find some way to keep them here - chain them so they can't leave, or kill and resurrect them. As before, I will not refuse assistance."
"As with the acid, if there is a way for us to utilize the poison from these fish, we should. Alchemist, I task you with this, as well."
"Sindran - goblins will be able to hide here effectively and ambush any who approach their homes. Again, your goblins are lazy and must be forced to keep their watch."
"We should try to increase the effectiveness of this cage, or reinforce the gate somehow. I am, however, at a loss as to who could do this, or how."
Morvius follows Oret closely "It would appear that the only way an intruder into the lower levels could inconvenience us is if they find the secret door to the higher levels - if they merely wander aimlessly down here until something cuts them down, they are of no concern to me. It follows therefore that I should focus my efforts on trapping the secret door."
He frowns at the mention of the goblins: "If any of them turn out not to be reliable, I would be more than happy to ... relieve them of their duties." Morvius runs a finger along the blade of his polearm, leaving no one in any doubt as to his meaning.
Talon growls at Morvius. "If there's a problem with the goblins bring it to me. Killing a few will only make the rest want to betray us more, but they're been scared of me ever since I killed their champion. Got the scar to prove it."
Tiadora appears out of thin air (if you can call a puff of sulphurous smoke that....) just a few feet away from where Aerent is inspecting the horn's defenses. Those who recognize her quickly see that she shows no sign of her usual sardonic smile. She's not messing about, and she has a message:
While Tiadora lets the significance of this abrupt message sink in, she extends a hand to Aerent, her body language making clear she's simply waiting for the human's lesser mind to come to terms with the new reality;
Apparently, this majestic being wishes to assign Aerent to a mission - asking him to abandon his current task.
Since Furcas clearly outranks our Cardinal, this new mission would rank higher in priority than your current task, assigned to you by a 'mere' Cardinal. In fact, this new task would fall under the highest law of Hell; even your first loyalty of the contract.
Aerent has no choice but to leave you and follow Tiadora. And one absolutely does NOT want to leave an Infernal Duke waiting.
Aerent quickly considers the implications but realizes he simply must go with the Cardinal's assistant. Looking around, he bids a quick farewell to those present. Resigned to his fate, he takes Tiadora's hand.
Seconds later, Tiadora and -more importantly- Aerent Sephim are gone from the Horn.
Only Hell knows where to, or for how long...
The instant Aerent leaves Talon swears loudly in Auran and destroys a good portion of the wall. "By the ninth, this isn't a time for distractions!"
"What do you mean gone? When?" Staring at T'larryo with an icy glare, Caladwhen unhappily absorbs the news of Aerent's departure. As her familiar rears back in fear of saying anything more, Caladwhen suddenly gets up and heads to confirm the untimely news.
Entering the room a few moments too late, Caladwhen only overhears the last remark from Talon and retorts "It's more than a distraction, it is a most costly and unfortunate setback." Shaking her head, Caladwhen mutters "It's done; we'll have to make do." Glancing over towards Náriel, the resolute Necromancer inquires "Náriel, would you be so kind as to fetch my material components? We have an ancient guardian to bring back from the dead." As Náriel departs, Caladwhen addresses the others "I have a plan for the elemental."
After Náriel hands her the black onyx, Caladwhen smiles "Alright then, let's get to work." Before heading down towards the ground level, Caladwhen peaks into the quarters where Halthus has been put up, and smiles coyly "Halthus, I thought you might like to join me and witness something glorious. Náriel and I plan to bend the forces of good to the will of Vetra-Kali." Without waiting an answer, Caladwhen slides out of his room gracefully, sending a non-verbal queue that beckons him to follow.
Either this one was never particularly bright, or eighty years in stone has dulled his mind... he's easier to manipulate than most.
Arriving at the with body of the Treant, Caladwhen observes the corpse carefully. "This should do nicely." Mentally preparing herself, Caladwhen closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Opening her eyes, Caladwhen smiles ever so slightly and turns her head to address Náriel "I've grown in power since you last saw me." Tossing the onyx high over the Treant, Caladwhen quickly holds makes a stopping motion with her hand, and the onyx comes to rest, hover five or six feet above the Treant. With a whisper, Caladwhen begins her now familiar incantation "M'aghi nai." Almost immediately, clouds seem to blot out the sun, and all the wild life still residing in the fallen Treant flee in a maddening terror...
Sindran watches this all using the Eye of Vigilance, which is located upon a decrepit table placed in the middle of the madness circle in the miedtation room and salvaged from somewhere in the Horn. Sindran himself sits behind the desk in an ancient creaking chair. Some goblins stood guard nearby, one in particular busying himself with attending to the half-orc.
Sindran mutters to himself lowly, snapping his fingers to call the attention of the goblin to bring him another (relatively) clean parchment.
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Venorik Rah, espionage check DC 10:
my compliments on your early and effective intervention. Your minions catch most of the rumours before they spread, and you manage to twist them so that people are lulled into a false sense of security. Well done.
Heitr, connections check DC 10:
1. What is the current situation in town? Specifically, is there any resistance organized?
2. What are the townsfolk, the church of Sarenrae, and so on thinking? For example, their opinions on the marvelous lightshow.
3. In regard to our allies, what have they been up to?
1. there is no resistance.
2. the town is most concerned with the war in the east; many housewives talk tearfully on the market square about "their Lenny or their Ronnie having gone off to war against the FireAxe." Clearly, no one expects them to return. Otherwise, they mostly believe what the members of Venorik Rah have fed them.3. you have no idea. Nothing obvious - remember they are stealthy specialists so a few orphans will not find out much.
Did you hear Hallack Amon paid off his father’s
debts? It almost broke the poor lad. What will he do for money now that he’s left Watch?
The Baron Vandermir is a strange one! The elf hardly ever leaves his manor these days.
. The Knights of the Alerion have gone mad and are blaming the invasion on the temple of Asmodeus. They’re burning anyone with a black cat at the stake! It’s madness! There hasn’t been a cult of Asmodeus in Andoran for twenty years. Someone’s organizing the bugbears, surely, but Asmodeans? Ha!
Morvius watches Aerent's departure with a certain degree of impassivity: after spending his life thus far in the service of the Infernal Hierarchy, he is familiar with its bureaucratic nature and the way helpful, even vital, resources are suddenly "re-assigned" without consultation.
Nevertheless, the loss of Aerent is a blow - the anti-paladin's demeanour and friendly banter is something that he was just getting used to enjoying, and now it is gone.
He watches his companions' angry reactions with a certain degree of resigned amusement: they are new to the service of Asmodeus, and sometimes it shows. He would like to say something helpful, but is aware that they will feel the loss more keenly, having been with Aerent from the very beginning, and - perhaps wisely - opts to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he confines himself to making sure that his pipe is still lit, puffing out clouds of evil-smelling smoke in his usual manner.
The re-animation of the treant is something quite spectacular and Morvius is duly impressed; the idea of luring the elemental down to a fight is a pleasing one. Nevertheless, something puzzles him:
"My Lady Caladwhen - is there some reason that we (that is to say, you) do not simply teleport your newest creation directly to the chamber to confront the elemental? If I understand aright, the appearance from nowhere would at least give the advantage of surprise."
"It would also mean that we do not put ourselves in harm's way trying to lure the thing down here - the departure of yon anti-paladin at this juncture means we have one fewer meat-shield than previously..."
Suddenly aware that this is not a tactful thing to say, Morvius shuts up.
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Upon seeing the treant creak upright, transforming into a rotten, mouldy, un-living giant, the Flayer falls to his knees.
stupefied, he mutters: "such magnificent...un-health..."
It does indeed look somewhat less...formidable than before.
"Isn't it though Halthus? Truly magnificent."
Taking in her latest monstrosity as the giant old tree guardian stiffly and slowly stands up, Caladwhen smirks with a hint of satisfaction. As its deep voice echoes and groans though out the immediate area, everyone is struck by the absolute silence outside of the horn. The absence of all animal life, and even the lack of and wind or motion create an eery backdrop to the horrifying scene.
Looking over her should towards Morvius, the necromancer responds in a manner of fact "Would that I could Morvius, but teleportation of something this size and that distance is still yet beyond me, only for the time being though." Returning her attention to the Zombie Treant, Cala adds quietly "Besides, teleporting it would involve getting a little closer to that thing than I would ever care too. Luring it down will have to do."
Turning around, Caladwhen looks to all gathered "Alright then, let us get prepared for this task. First thing tomorrow, we rid the horn of this meddlesome force of nature. I'll alert Sindran, Oret and Talon of the plan."