Aen lifts five feet higher and fires three arrows at the minotaur behind him.
Varda lands some inspiring shots and Nash is able to choke the life out of his target, the bull not able to even raise an arm.
Gorn pounces on his target striking 5 times one of which is devastating. Aen for his part lands a pair of shots. The remaining bull is taken down.
+1 Huge Falchion (X2)
Na'shok sags under the weight of his injuries. He fishes out a few of the remaining healing potions.
As Gorn walks through the entrance to the Sanctum a feeling of dread comes over him as he can feel his protective magics strip away from him.
Not for the last time, Gorn-Rel wishes he understood magic better so that he could defend against it.
"Beware the door, it strips magic."
Na’shok frowns at Gorn’s warning.
”Join hands. I can move us a few steps between worlds. That should be far enough to move us beyond the trap.”
Nash is able to teleport the rest of the group inside. This room’s floor is decorated with basalt tiles, each of which has been crafted to represent one section of a complex labyrinth. Ivory lined columns support the ceiling, every inch engraved with a mix of images of mazes, minotaurs, and men and women writhing in ecstasy or agony.
You feel a strange sense of purpose here.
You also feel Soulshear at ease in this place. "It feels like home, doesn't it?"
After a moment of distraction Na'shok gestures with Soulshear. "Let's keep moving."
The party heads through the eastern door next to them to find a hallway. This wide hallway snakes to the south a slight angle. Double doors are set on the southern and eastern walls, while to the southwest sits a weapon rack designed for over-sized weapons. Two large glaives are stored here.
+1 Large Silver Glaives x2
A writing desk, a full-length mirror, a semicircular bath, and a canopied bed sit in the four corners of this large room. A contraption that resembles a cross between a wooden gurney and a torture table sits in the center of the room, its corners adorned with bloodstained leather straps. A set of manacles attached to a short chain is attached to one of the bed’s posts. You find a barely covered stunningly beautiful green haired half-elven woman lounging on the bed. At the foot of the bed is an an even less covered human male, a gaping hole in his chest where his heart should be. He seems to be a Templar given the discarded armor on the floor or he used to be at least.
"I apologize for the mess. I didn't expect this soon or I would have tidied up. " She says smiling at you. "I am Jerribeth and you are Arueshalae, Aenthurien, Gorn, Nashok, Larissa, and Varda. I know why you are here and I wish to make you a deal."
"Hmm, here's an idea for a 'deal'," replies Varda, "how about we kill you and remove your blight on the land?"
"Why would you do that? Our goals are the same. You wish to kill Xanthir Vang and I just wish to aid you. But if your comrades feel the same, that would be a shame. Violence is not my preferred method of negotiation." Jerribeth says looking to the rest of the group.
Varda smirks. "No, no, I'm sure it isn't... it's quite normal to have implements of torture and de-hearted men in one's bedroom, isn't it Na'shok?"
”For demons perhaps”, Nash answers as he levels Soulshear.
”If we’re to believe that you’re enemies with the master of this place why are you here enjoying yourself? And what is it that you offer in exchange for our help?”
"I wouldn't say we're enemies. He's just in the way. It would benefit me if he were not around anymore. I wish you people understood subtlety."
"It would benefit us all if neither of you were around. Let's kill it and move forward. We don't have time to trade words with lackeys."
Aenthurien listens to Jerribeth, but watches Arueshalae. "What do you propose?" He asks, without looking away.
Arueshalae at first stares daggers at the woman before her expression softens. "I would normally say we do not trust her. But what if all she needs is a chance to do the right thing? She could have attacked when we first walked in. She obviously knew we were here. I do not know what to do. I can see the virtue in either."
Jerribeth nods her head. "Don't think of it as helping me. Think of it as me rewarding you for doing something you were already going to do. You swear to kill Xanthir and you get a wish for those of you didn't understand. No strings attached and within reason of course. And I'll even help you with some of the obstacles to get to him. My one condition is that the wish-maker wear this magic ring, so I can monitor where you are and how you're doing."
"What are you? If you want our trust you'll show us your true form", Nash demands while pondering the offer.
"That is rather rude to ask a girl that. Are you going to ask me my weight next? What makes you think I'm something else?"
"Show me yours and I'll show you mine", Na'shok fires back. "We don't make deals with mysterious and powerful strangers lightly."
The brawny orc stares the strange woman down with primal intensity.
"Alright, I like the way I look now. You'll agree with me." Seconds later, the shapely feminine form disappears and is replaced with a towering monster, over 15 feet high. She has four arms, two ending in giant pincers, the others ending in claws. Her eyes still shine with a mix of intelligence and cruelty.
"There. Satisfied?" She says in a much less sultry voice clearly embarassed.
Arueshalae frowns when she recognize the demon type. "As much as I may want to believe in redemption, Glabrezu have hearts as ugly as their forms."
Na'shok cocks an eyebrow at the demon-woman-thing. "You've made your point. Is that what you're after - redemption? Or is this a play for power?"
"The latter. Xanthir is untrustworthy and a liability."
Varda elbows Na'shok in the ribs. "No."