Daxniss glares back at Argon as if saying " I know. " Misleading information was easy, it was the act of believing in the lie as if were fact was the tricky part. Still this was different from anything she had be trained for however, being killed by an imp that they had no way of harming wouldn't go over to well either.
Leaning an arm on Ssilax's quartet of horns the near child-sized imp switches the eye patch over his glaring infernal eye. Revealing a glowing blue orb, Zafe blinks his eye a few times. He looks between Daxniss and Argon and snorts with amusement.
"Mortal children have to be the most gullible mewling things in all the Primes," the imp says with a chuckle that was more of a mud filled landslide noise. Zafe spits out a black, foul mouthful of what they hoped was tobacco juice onto the floor. "Hold out your hand or you lose an eye, lizard." Zafe order.
Hesitantly holding out a trembling hand, Ssilax looks disgusted as the imp plops a wad of vile smelling chew in his palm.
"Don't drop that, or I'll make a coat and wing cozy out of your hide," the gravel voiced imp orders. Pulling out a Pass Stone he looks at it. Barking out an arcane phrase, Zafe tosses the now dull, lifeless stone on the floor. Plucking his chew out of Ssilax hand the pirate imp puts it back in mouth.
"I'm far from trapped here. This is my dwelling that I can freely leave. I don't need a pass for the wards. Unlike intruders. Let's play a game, mortal children like games don't they?" Zafe looks around at the group. "I'm going to take a guess on who sent you. If I'm right, I won't wipe another stone. If I'm wrong, well, it's going to be a bad day for somebody," the imp chuckles nastily. He waits for a few minutes, spitting occasionally in a ever growing pool of to the side of Wrathe's branded hand. Oddly enough, the imp isn't hitting the apprentice mage with his spit pool.
"I'm thinking.... close to home.... like a certain old mage whose curiosity is getting the better of him. Am I getting close? I think I am." Zafe smirks. "Since I know all of the ways out, perhaps you should think about telling me what he planned by sending the lot of you in here."
The imp looks to be a bit on the paranoid side of the fence. It almost seems that Zafe thinks that Dainoth is actively spying on the Sphere.
Wrathe glances about in the spectrum of magic, seeking out a magical egress.
Perhaps more than everyone else did he understand just how dangerous this situation was.
Another fact was not lost on him in the imp making the Pass Stone inert...
One of them had just died, even if their body was unaware of it yet.
Wrathe addresses the imp in its native infernal tongue, with a bow, as he had been taught to treat even the lowest of devils, all of which were consider as gods to those pitiful souls peopling the slave pits, "It was not our intention to offer insult Zafe. We are here to reconnoiter this area as a means of honing our skills, and perhaps learn more about this anomaly. It was made clear that we were to touch nothing. "
None had seen the Xthian so devoid of any movement or expression, as his eyes remain downcast, his voice a monotone, and his back slouched, as if awaiting punishment.
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Dorian eyes the imp. He follows his every move.
Showing a relaxed and nonchalant posture, Dorian bows to the imp.
Master Zafe, we are but students, wet behind the fangs, and not a dishonest motive among us. As stated, we merely have been sent here for a look see, although I suspect that it is more to develop our--feeble--skills. Most of all is to learn to trust each other. I would think that you are welcome to burn those stones one and all now. We die as one!
Argon is a bit disappointed that their mission was so easily given up, but then again, they are all pretty scared right now, himself included. Also, since the task given was so innocent and harmless, he hopes it serves to help their cause.
"No, please don't burn the stones... Now we've told you why we're here, will you show us the way to get out of here so we can leave you in peace?"
Wrathe's glimpse of the magic in the room is primarily rolling of the imp like ripples from a stone thrown in a pond. It was hard to tell with stolen glances, but the cursed human was pretty certain that there was a spot on the wall that looked to be faintly covered by a screen of magic. The trapdoor from which they fell was not. Wrathe can also see the faint traces if magic in the floors and walls of the sphere.
Zafe looks at Wrathe for several moments, a faintly annoyed expression on his ugly little face. Looking around at the others with his glowing blue eye, the pirate imp clicks his tongue. Looking between Argon and Dorian, the little fiend seems to be thinking something over.
"What do you think lizard, you think there telling the truth?" Zafe chuckles to himself as Ssilax nods his head. He only makes the slightest of motions, keenly aware of how close the imp's stinger was to his eye. "Very well. I suppose the Fat One could use some one to talk to other than me. I've spent the last three years in here, just to get a break from his prattle." Zafe says, mostly to himself.
"Alright, pick up the dead elf and let's go. Alright lizard, head to the door," the pirate snaps his fingers and the illusion covering the door shimmers and fades away.
Lilith's head lies at an unnatural angle, her neck broken by the fall. Even in gentle embrace of death, there was a faint sneer on her lips.
Moving his head as much as he dared to, Ssilax spots the motionless body of the elf. Sapphire eyes growing larger, his steps falter until Zafe cuffs the back of scaled head to get him moving forward once more.
Eyes on the visible door, Ssilax wasn't sure what to think. He was scared, naturally, sad that Lilith was dead (even though she wasn't that nice to him and Wrathe over the years), and feeling confused as to how they ended up in such a situation.
There hadn't been anything easy about scouting out this sphere. Focusing on staying alive and keeping the rest of his friends alive, the dragonkin struggles to get his rampaging emotions under control.
Argon is surprised when the devil agrees to lead them out. Perhaps he was scared, or perhaps he had rules he had to follow. Perhaps he's taking them to his master. Argon knows very little about devils, but that thought scares him most.
"The dead...?." Argon suddenly gasps as he realizes he had not noticed Lilith behind the broken table. She had been so quiet and he had forgotten about her. Now he sees her and guilt wracks him. If... If what? He doesn't know what he or any of the others could have done.
He walks over to her, sliding his blades back into their sheaths. Crouching down, he checks her pulse to ensure she's not still breathing. Tears roll out of his strange eyes and fall on the elf's body.
He lifts her up, one arm under her shoulders and the other under her legs. She's quite light. "Ssilax... is the lizard's name," he says, matter-of-factly. It bothers Argon that this Zafe keeps calling him Lizard.
"This one is Lilith."
Lilith's cooling body dominates the burgeoning wizard's thoughts. He was no stranger to death, as devils would slaughter those that served them on a whim, but found himself ill-prepared for the long-lived elf's fall.
Taking a knee next to the rotting meat that once was named Lilith he reaches out to respectfully close her eyelids. Even in death there was the scowl that was ever affixed upon her cold features.
He sinks into the depths of his cowl and pads along with the others.
Daxniss follows the others, feeling nothing at the moment of hearing about Lilith's loss. Daxniss knew that at the moment getting living through what had happened today after all, it was highly questionable that the the group was going to survive, Zafe was unpredictable at the moment. Daxniss knew that Lillith was going to be missed by everyone of the group and feeling the fact that she was now the only member of the group who was female.
Daxniss had a feeling that she was out of her element, which she had a feeling was going to be more of the norm. Daxniss Felt that the group was going to be tested by more then just the trial of scouting out the cave.
Keeping up with Zafe is no problem, as his current chariot Ssilax doesn't move to fast. The imp is standing on both of the dragonkin shoulders holding on to his larger set of horns. He uses the horns to steer the apprentice mage making "Whoose noises as he does so.
Approaching the door, a hand sized square looks different from the rest. It looks the same as the panel that Dog had stepped on, dropping them into this chamber. After a few seconds, the door clicks and swings open to a smooth, circular tunnel. The tunnel is lit by a small globe every 20 feet. A quick estimate would put the tunnel a little over 100 feet long. There are 5 different doorway that are visible down the chamber.
Walking down the tunnel at Ssilax's stately pace, the group has a few minutes to absorb everything that has happened. The others can't help but think for a place supposedly owned by the imp, it doesn't look particularly hellish. Wrathe, having rather keen insight in the dealing of the lower fiends can't help but feel that something is slightly off with the imp. For one, he is almost twice the size of a typical imp. The second, is that the cursed human is beginning to think that Zafe might be a little on the mad side.
Reaching the end of the tunnel, the group is feeling that the inside of the sphere is a bit larger than Dainoth's estimates.
Looking at the ornate door, the imp chuckles.
"Go ahead and open it up. I'm not going anywhere until you do, lizard," Zafe drums his claws on the top of Ssilax's head.
Reaching out to a similar looking plate, the dragonkin hesitantly presses it.
After almost a minute of clicks, the door swings open, a trail of mist creeps out to cover the floor once the large metal doors unseal.
Inside the chamber, the glimpse of the stars twinkling in the sky can be seen. There doesn't appear to be any walls, floors or ceiling to his chamber, just the starry heavens. It looks as though they have opened a door far into the night sky. The light comes from two sources, a sphere the size of a human's head floats between the light sources. The are standing in the doorway to the cosmos, specifically the slice of the cosmos around there world.
Guided by the imp rapping his head, Ssilax gingerly puts one clawed foot onto the starry darkness below his feet and finds it to be as solid as stone.
Wincing at the claws tapping on his head, the young dragonkin takes a deep breath and steps out into the unknown. He almost trips as he finds the solid ground beneath him. Taking a few more hesitant steps into the chamber, Ssilax looks around, his maw falling open in amazement.
Even with the terrifying events that had taken place earlier, the dragonkin couldn't help but be amazed by the sight. He almost felt like he was standing in the cosmos.
"Wow. This is just... amazing. If that one light is crimson like Sol'Deamos, then the blue one must be Sol'Dragos. Is this a model of the stars and constellations?" Ssilax's curiosity bubbles back up to the surface, cutting through his terror.
A somber Wrathe falls into line behind the muted procession, barely taking in his surroundings as he considers each step of what they had done to lead to this place; masochistically wondering if there was anything they could have done to prevent Lilith's demise.
He is drawn from his dysfunctional reverie by the star room, starting about with mouth-wide wonder.
Argon follows the others, his arms getting a little tired holding the body of Lilith.
He wonders if this is where Dainoth had wanted them to go. It must be. He must have sensed something big here. Something important.
Soon they reach a place of confusion and wonder. Ssilax is walking on the sky. The first door was an illusionary wall, so this must be another illusion, he figures. Even suspecting that, Argon finds it amazing, and he looks all around with wide eyes. Ssilax mentions a model - but a model for what? Is there some tactical or strategic value in knowing what the starts and sun and planets look like?
Holding Lilith, he continues to follow.
Daxniss ponders if this was part of the Harrow card reading earlier today, It bothered her that she was unable to read the meaning of the cards. Drawing herself out of the introspection she blinks at Ssilax words, wondering what else the model might hold, as she frowns thinking more about the meaning behind creating a model of the stars.
Aside from seemingly standing in the stars, Dorian doesn't get the sense that anything was wrong. Or if it was, it was concealed far to well for him to notice.
Wrathe's vision flares once he steps into the rooms threshold. Magic emanates from the ceiling flowing across the entire chamber, given it the hint of physical dimensions. The amount of magic that flowed in the room made his skin tingle slightly.
"Indeed it is little one," come a melodious feminine voice from across the cosmos, the very sound of the voice puts one's mind at ease. Floating into view across the stars is a being that is achingly majestic and perfect to behold. Any with the barest hint of a taste of religion knows this to be a Deva. Golden hair, pulled in a simple braid, flows down the Deva's back. Platinum skin catches the light warmly covered in a robe made of soft white feathers. There is the faint impression in your vision of a set of four white feathered wings upon her back. But unless you happen to be thinking about the wings, they are absent. "I am glad to hear that my model impresses." The noble creature inclines her head towards the group.
Shining golden light played where a mortal beings eyes would be, locating Zafe riding upon Ssilax's.
"Captain Zafe," the Deva bows to imp. "I am glad you have returned." She seems to speak sincerily. Looking at the dragonkin, a faint smile touches her perfect lips. "Is tormenting the youth entirely necessary, my Captain? Your parrot has been restored and awaits you in your personal chambers."
Patting Ssilax upon the head, the imp takes wing.
"Ya be a decent enough vessel, don't go and get yourself sunk," Captain Zafe informs the dragonkin in his gravel filled voice. The imp flies off into the void and disappears.
Golden eyes playing over the party, the golden light spots on Argon carrying the body of Lilith.
"Ah. I see your entry was not without peril. I feel your grief, young ones and will help you." the angelic figure touches down to the floor in front of the group. Now that she is standing in front of you, the being is closer to a giant's height. Taken a step forward, she seems to reduce until she is merely the size of a tall human. A string of angelic laced arcana passes from her lips.
The sight of cosmos shivers and then fades away within few heartbeats. The spherical room is easily 60 feet in diameter, and the walls are a near black, glossy looking stone. The walls seems to catch the light coming from the floating globes near in the center of the ceiling. Three tunnels lead further into the sphere. The globes appear to be finely crafted metal of some sort, housing several clear crystals that rotate within the globes. They seem to stay in there group via magic. In the center is a simple round table made of the same stone as the rest of the chamber. Floating disks seems to be providing sitting places.
"Please, set the remains of your friend upon the table and I shall proceed," the Deva comforting voice helps to smooth over fears and concerns.
When the stars vanish, a small "Aww" comes from Ssilax. Looking around the chamber, his sapphire eyes looks towards the direction he thought Zafe had flown away in. Grabbing the hem of his robe, he scours off the foul remains of the tobacco wad that he was forced to hold. "Yuck," he can be heard muttering.
Cautious, expecting the floor to give way underneath his claws, Ssilax slowly pads over to the table. He kept looking at the Deva shyly out of the corner of his eye. All the terror he had been experiencing a few minutes ago was..., gone. The Deva's presence was something he didn't think could be a trick. 'And if it was a trick, why bother to further terrify a bunch of children,' Ssilax thinks to himself.
Not really knowing what to say, Ssilax looks down at his toe claws.
"Ummm, Thank you for the help you are offering. And your model was really, um..., well amazing," the dragonkin scuffs his foot as he speaks, still looking down. The apprentice mage felt incredibly awkward in the presence of the Deva.
Hours innumerable had been spent perfecting the Celestial tongue, and in moments like this he saw the potential benefits.
Feeling unclean, Wrathe falls to the back and attempts to not be seen.
Argon is surprised by the interaction between Zafe and the Deva, as he is sure others are. He is not certain if she is his subordinate, or his peer, for the words "My Captain" could be meant in different ways. It is very confusing, since the two creatures should, by his understanding, be enemies. And since they are not, either Zafe is not a true devil, or the Deva is not a true Deva; or somewhere in between may be closer to the truth.
He knows the answer is beyond him, and he does not know who to trust. For if Zafe is not really bad, perhaps this is truly a Deva. But if the truth is obscured by so much illusion and trickery, perhaps the Deva is a lie, and those feelings of safety are also magical and false.
It occurs to him that this could be a trick, to take Lilith's soul or something. He is resolved not to give up her soul, but devils need contracts, don't they, before they can take someone's soul? Wrathe should know.
Argon steps toward the table, holding Lilith, but stops short and turns to look at the Deva. He does not linger looking in her incredible eyes, but turns to Wrathe, who's hiding behind the others. "Wrathe, is it safe? If Zafe is trying to fool us into giving up Lilith's soul, would we have to explicitly agree to it? I.... I don't want to do the wrong thing."
Daxniss blinks at the sight of the Deva, she had a little bit of understanding what a Deva was due to some half remember teachings from her mother. Still it was hard to fathom to say the least, A deva here, and the fact there was an imp. Daxniss wonders if this was more of the meaning of her reading today, it was hard to consider as her mend kept running around in circles, bouncing off the inside of her skull.
It took a few heartbeats for the rogue in training to move her thoughts into a more productive mindset, pushing the idea that she was meeting with a being outside of this plane. Upon hearing Argon’s words the girl gives a mental shudder at the thought of giving up a person’s soul to an imp, there was going to be little that the group would be able to do in stopping the imp.
As soon as that thought crosses her mind, the Deva’s presence does calm her down, if this was an illusion it was a very good one and Daxniss had no clue on what could be require to fend off this magic, if it was all just a lie. Shaking her head, Daxniss wonders what the next few minutes would reveal to the group.
Wrathe nods to Argon, confident both that Lilith's soul is already bound for eternity and that they were powerless to stop these creatures if it were otherwise.
Argon looks at Wrathe, and is satisfied that it is the right action. He takes a final step forward and places Lilith on the table, gently.
Dorian keeps vigilant, wary of the aspect of the divine. The thought has crossed his mind of the possibility of a trap, which, the more he thinks about it, would be overkill. However, given how the day has been progressing for them, the monk wasn't going to be surprised by it.
Waiting patiently for the group to decide, the golden eyes of the Deva find Wrathe and Dorian. The look the two receive is perhaps a heartbeat short of being stared at. A faintly curious expression appears on the divine creatures perfect features. She seems close to asking a question, when Argon steps forward.
Once Lilith's body is laid on the obsidian-like table, the Deva smile carries both sadness and joy.
"It is a hard thing to bear the lose of a friend and comrade. The best parts of those you've grow to care live with you, carried safely in your memory. To set your mind at ease, your friend's soul did return to the elven afterlife." The Deva says with a serene look upon her face. Opening her eyes, she looks at the gathered youths. "To further ease your thoughts, for his faults, the Captain has little use for gathering souls." The Deva's golden gaze moves across the group.
"To put it in a way that would be understandable, souls would be considered a type of currency. One which has no value for those residing within the vessel." There is nothing demeaning in her tone as she explains. "Now, let's continue to ease your spirits of the perception of guilt in your friend's death."
A long string of Celestial laced arcane syllables flow rapidly from the Deva's mouth. As Lilith's body begins to float above the table, a faintly shimmering cube of force encases it.
"What you thought was your friend was deceiving you. It has been doing so for a time now. It seems that she was once host of a parasitic demon larvae. When it was removed, enough of it remained to reform itself. That demon has been lurking underneath her skin, waiting to come out." The Deva is still staring at the floating corpse.
Ssilax shares a look with Wrathe. Lilith had been going out a far amount over the last two years. She mentioned studying with a like minded colleague that she had met. The young elf tended to leave much more frequently then Wrathe did.
"I command you to reveal your true form, Demon!" While the Deva doesn't raise the volume of her voice, it seems to resonate off of everyone's very bones.
For a second nothing happens, leaving them to wonder about the Deva once more. Then, Lilith's body twitches. In the blink of an eye, she's righted herself, standing upon the table, her sneer growing wider. Black flames begin to lick at the elf's body until it is silently engulfed in a vile green and black fire. Flames vanishing, a snarling, clawed creature stares at them with eyes as inviting as a pair of bottomless pits. Twisted strips of looks to be human skin wrap the almost feminine demon, green ichor drips from fingers that end in dagger length talons. It wears a mask made from several different colors of skins.
"This is why you should feel no sense of guilt in your friend's death. She passed some time ago, and this filth stole her place." The Deva's face hardens as she stares at the demon. It is currently licking the shimmering wall with an obscenely long tongue. The fleshly tendril was littered with bone hooks. It suddenly slams a clawed hand at the wall, it's mouth moving rapidly, foam and spittle splattering the wall. All of them are suddenly very glad that noise doesn't penetrate the magic cube.
So surprised at the sight of the demon, Ssilax takes several faltering steps backwards before the strength flows out of his legs. Falling on his rump, he stares at the thing in held in the force cube. The apprentic knew enough about magic to know that sure, this could be an illusion. However, the dragonkin knew in his gut that it wasn't a trick.
Concerned, Dog licks the side of Ssilax's scaled face. This was made much easier now that his two-legged friend was on his level.
Mouth opening an closing as words fail to form, Ssilax can only point at the demon. The same demon that had been living with them for the last four years. Scales clicking as a shudder runs down his spine, Ssilax hugs his knees to his chest.
The akimbo angle of her neck and head was sickening, as was the noises it made as it shifted in the movement. Taking a step back, as the dead form rights itself, Wrathe is struck dumb by the revelation.
His features harden and he moves forward, to just the other side of the force cube, memorizing every single feature of this specific daemon, opening himself to her magical emanations to observe her visage within that spectrum as well.
Wrathe speaks for the first time since Lilith's fall, tears trailing rivulets down his angular cheeks as he looks at the shattered elf, "What is this daemon and how do we destroy it permanently?"
Surprises for all of them seem to be the order of the day. And Argon is certainly surprised by Lilith and the revelations around her. And by the demon in front of them. He starts chuckling, and says, "This is just an observation mission!" repeating Dorian's sarcasm at another moment of extreme shock; joking as a way to calm his own fears. He continues, "Good thing you didn't marry her, Wrathe..."
Done with his silly jokes, he regrets them already.
Finally, he answers Wrathe's question with his own speculation. "I'm hoping the lady Deva knows what to do with it." Argon looks to the Deva to see if he is correct.
Upon seeing the creature manifest itself from Lilith's remains, Daxniss takes a few steps back, unaware that she had drawn both of her daggers. Daxniss body is also crouched, getting ready to flee in any direction, her eyes widen in shock as she utters " Bloody-- " Daxniss swallows the rest of her curse as she glances at the Deva.
Sheathing the daggers, having a sneaking suspicion that they would do little good here. Glaring at Argon when he starts to chuckle and repeats Dorian's words she avoids looking at the demon, the last thing she wanted was a chance for the creature to get it's hooks into Daxniss mind.
Daxniss starts to reflect on conversations over the years with Lillith and starts to analyze for any hint of the demon starting to gain control again. " I wonder if he had suspicions, mayhaps he might answer if we get back " Daxniss whispers to herself as taps a few fingers against her leg.
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Dorian smiles--pointedly--at the deva as her eyes linger for his half a heart beat. He nods his head in an acceptance greeting, confident in himself and his friends.
As the demon manifests, floating above the table, captive of the deva, Dorian's ice blue eyes wide. He quickly imposes himself between the macabre and his frightened and faithful friends.
Wrathe considers the daemon for a moment while rubbing her chin, "I wouldn't be too hasty Argon. She might have a nice personality."
Mirth felt both completely inappropriate and so right at the same time.
" Oh but the messes the two of you would make as well as the fighting the two of you would do over dinner. All I am saying is that I'm not cleaning up after you two any time soon. " Daxniss delivers the joke in a dead pan tone.
The Deva looks at the youths, her head cocked slightly to the side. Confusion was a rare look upon a celestial face.
"Married to...Nice personality? What in the Planes are talking about?" The Deva blinks several times. A slow smile grows across her face as she shakes her head. "Ah, apologizes, I appear to be missing the joke." If anything, the Deva seems pleased that the youths are cloud by their grief.
Zafe is standing at the end of the table, a skeleton of a parrot perched upon his shoulder. The pirate imp stares at the caged demon.
"There's an ugly bastard." the fiend says looking at the group. "You should have seen this lot. They're all "Oh our dead friend!"" the imp had clasp his hands together near his head, a mockingly weepy expression on the imps face. His voice sounded just like a human child's. When he speaks again, it's all gravel and mudslide. "And this thing was just lying there, waiting." Zafe hopped over and kicks the force cage. The parasyte snarls silently and claws the cage.
Having almost blinding himself looking at the force cage in the magical specturm, Wrathe was confident the spell was going to hold. The power of the Deva's spell kept him from examining the Demon's aura. He did burn it's physical features into his memory.
"Returning to your earlier question, it would take the direct intervention of a god to destroy the Demon. This is not a common demon. Had my deity still existed, I would be honored to smite it. I can however, contain it thusly." A string of divine arcane flows from the Deva and there is a brilliant flash of light as the cube glows a white-gold. After several seconds of what had to be a miniature sun burning, the light vanishes suddenly.
Floating in the air is a small crystal orb, the size of a infant's fist. Faint, golden runes floated in the crystal, containing a wet, inky looking blackness.
"You must take it to the to the temple of a goodly deity and place it on the altar," the Deva pauses for a moment some thing. "I would recommend you tell the cleric or priest there what you are doing. Another thing, do not tarry, the enchantment will only hold for a few years."
Getting back to his feet, Ssilax brushes off his robe. Forcing himself to look at the demon, the apprentice can't help but shudder once more. He observes the cage abyssal spawn, his sapphire orbs flat and cold. Ssilax saw the skin of people that it dressed itself in. The young dragonkin had a pretty good idea where the thing had gotten those. When Lilith went out , she went out to go skinning.
Listening to his friends, the dragonkin shakes his head looking at them, almost dumbfounded.
"I'm not cooking for her, that's for certain!" the apprentice mage says with a hint of smile curling his muzzle.
After the parasyte had been contained, the dragonkin rubs at his eyes, trying to get the spots out of his vision.
As the closest Wrathe reaches out to take possession of the small crystal orb, wrapping it in the fabric of his sleeve before dropping it in a belt pouch. He was already accursed, so it made sense to avoid exposing another, though he never planned to touch it to his flesh.
His eyes fall on Lilith, which steals the breath from his lungs and the mirth from the moment. She remained a mystery, but had died far too young, especially for an elf, and he was saddened that they had not gotten to know her better.
"Please tell us about this place, and how such a seemingly unlikely pairing came to work in concert."
As a bit of an afterthought he asks the deva, "What should we call you?"
Argon watches the magical show with amazement, realizing that the demon is now contained within the sphere. All that magic is so far beyond him...
He nods at Wrathe's questions, then adds, "And could you show us a way out of here, without going through the wards?" This is directed at the deva, but he looks at Zafe too, concerned that he may answer.
" No Nether am I! " Daxniss finishes with a giggle, finally finished with the humor, she shakes her head at the Deva's words and the enchantment she had placed on the orb. " I'm sure one of the people we know might be able to put in a word to the priest so we can step up to the altar. " Daxniss says.
Upon hearing Argon's words, Daxniss nods her head hoping that the Deva or Zafe wouldn't lead them astray.
"What do you mean, Dorian? Concerned?" asks Argon.
Ssilax looks a little confused.
"I'm confused, what other circumstances? I thought we had enough excitement with the fiend, Deva, sphere that isn't just a planer storage chest, and the demon that was living with us for that last 4 years wearing at least 20 different peoples skins for clothes. And then finding a church to get of the demon forever." The dragonkin counts off on his clawed fingers.
Perhaps such proximity to such an evil artefact should make his skin crawl, but he feels nothing, and that only reinforces the taint and despoilment that had taken purchase.
They would need to send word back to Master Dainoth. Bringing the containment orb into their home would despoil it somehow; though even that thought was foolish considering how much access the daemon had 'lo these many years.
It appeared the old man had a number of blindspots that had been exploited....that is unless they had been sent out to either fly from the nest or crash on the rocks below...or to reveal the truth of Lilith's demise.
Wrathe clucks his tongue as he considers the possibilities, and also wonders if Rygear would help them with the disposition of the orb.
Rusted nails are spit forth, "This foul creature took a companion of ours. We will see its cage to a position of eternal torment."
Curiously enough, the small orb feels much heavier than it looks. The thought of the fresh enchantment upon the crystal might be a reason he feels nothing else from the orb.
Zafe almost purrs at the interest in his "vessel" as he calls it.
"Be honored mortals, for you are probably the only ones of your kind to be standing in the remains of a dead god." The imp buffs his claws on his chest, looking rather nonchalant.
"I happened across the dead god burial plot in the Astral Plane, apparently, it's the dumping ground for gods that loose all of their followers. Nobody to worship you, and you die, pretty pathetic, needing to be believed in," the pirate imp chuckles unpleasantly. "So I found the sphere, some god of knowledge, or magic or something-not-good-enough-to-keep-them-around, and claimed it as my own. Whatever it was, the remains of it function more akin to Planer ship, something I have a great deal of experience with. It took a few centuries to get it up and working, but it's not like I don't have time." Zafe grins like a child with the shiniest toy. A rather ugly child at that.
With a taloned thumb, the imp indicates the Deva.
"I found this bag of feathers moping about in her cell when I landed on this plane a eon or so ago. I think you should tell them about that," the imp grins mischievously at the Deva.
The divine creature nods her head, a few strands of golden hair sliding free of her braid. Taking a moment, she floats over to one of the discs surround the table and sits down.
"My name has been struck from all of creation, because of my crime. I chose, wrongly, to aid what I had believed the Harbinger of Change when if arrived. The change that it brought was madness, as well as complete annihilation. The aid I gave caused a ripple across the divine order as well as the Planes of Hell, greatly upsetting the Great Balance." The Deva pauses for a few moments, as if recalling the event. "My poor decision caused the fall of the entire pantheon of this worlds deities, and almost the world's destruction."
Gesturing for the others to sit, the Deva waits a few moments before continuing.
"I was tried and convicted in a joint court of Divine and Infernal law. I was banished from all of the realms of the divine and the planes of the Hells, but still allowed to view them. I was to be bound and forgotten for the length of the Prime Materials existence. A fitting punishment for my crime." the Deva smiles rather pleasantly, as if she had agreed wholeheartedly on her imprisonment. "The Captain's ship landed, it destroyed my prison , allowing my to seek atonement for my actions. While I find the riddle to my atonement, I assist the Captain, a fitting payment for my freedom."
Wrathe glances about trying to understand who the "Fat one" is, that Zafe had mentioned. The imp had used the pronoun "he", so he had discounted the deva, though the devil wasn't the most trustworthy of sources, which didn't preclude phantasms of an addled mind, and he moves his attention about the area in search of a male that fits the billing.
Perhaps it was a comical reference to the undead parrot.
"Please tell us more of this time of change and potential annihilation."
" Wait wait wait. " Daxniss shakes her head after the Deva pauses long enough. " Sooo Dead God burial ground, which is also a Planar Ship, A Deva who now has no name, who made a bad judgement call who is now seeking atonement. Strange times indeed, perhaps this might be what the Fool card meant, involving the demon. I'll have to see what the Cards might revel tomorrow. Um sorry I didn't mean to interrupt.. " Daxniss trails off
Hearing all this talk of the world's destruction, a pantheon of deities falling, and eternal punishment makes thirteen year old Argon feel extremely small. He knows nothing of a Harbinger of Change, the Planes of Hell, or a Great Balance. He can only imagine what they are. Argon's paltry weapons training seems so insignificant; he wonders if it's better to be an agent of change as a servant of princes and kings, or to be a more knowledgable person who tries to effect change via knowledge and influence. Perhaps it is possible to be both; of course, then Argon would need to read more; he makes a promise to himself to do so.
He also thinks it is a little dishonest of Deva to consider herself free unless she thinks her punishment was over the top, which might be a reasonable belief, considering. Perhaps she is not overly concerned with such legal details.
At this point Argon is about to make a more practical statement about going to Dainoth, but then Wrathe asks more about annihilation and whatnot.
A small sigh escapes from the Alman's lips.
Zafe had proven himself to be a disreputable source for trusted information, and as such Wrathe disregards his words as the blithering of an addled mind. Perhaps the fantastic things that spewed forth from his maw were true, but he would not easily extend trust without supportive evidence.
Having recovered from his initial fear the Xthian only has contempt for the imp and his nefarious hellspawn. None of this plays out upon his impassive facade, though he seeks to escape this meeting as quickly as they can glean answers, and he never directly looks at the imp or speaks to him.
Despoilers like this should be exterminated. His time in perdition had hardened his stance, and frozen his heart to Zafe and his ilk.
Ssilax follows the pointed finger.
"Oh, yeah. Well, at this point, I pretty much believe them. I mean, what would they gain by lying. Especially to us, we're a bunch of kids playing at adventure," Ssilax whispers to Dorian.
Once the tales started, the dragonkin sat enraptured, absorbing everything they said.