Tesswyn sighs with relief when they at long last make it back to Oasis. "F&!$ing finally! If the Sheikh's awake, let's go give him what we promised him. The sooner we're rid of those damned relics, the better."
Once they saw the lights of Oasis Charles let out a sigh of relief as well.
"I was going to suggest we waited until morning, but I'm sure the Shiekh will be pleased to be roused from his sleep once he hears it's us returning with his friend as well as the relics."
"The sooner we are rid of these things, and their temptations, the better," Kahtia says somewhat pointedly, looking at Charles and Drot'ook. Her dark hair is plastered to her face, and dust and sand cakes her garments. It has been a long and hard ride, and she wants nothing more than to disrobe and slip into a cool bath.
"Let's be done with them, and find proper lodging," she says, scanning the buildings they ride past, looking for the best inn.
Drot followed Charles toward the building, but he was out of breath by the time they looked around inside. He was tired from the desert heat and from being near death not long ago. Heading back to the camp, Drot rested while the others did what they willed.
He thought on that for a long while, what they willed. He found himself staring into the eyes of the WAS scepter before long, but didn't remember anything between sitting and now holding the thing. He went cold for a moment, the feeling was so familiar but he couldn't place it.
When Charles returned and the group was ready to depart, Drot was mindlessly followed them. He didn't have the energy to do much more than that, and when they finally reached the oasis, and the wizard spoke of lodging, he realized he wanted nothing more than a soft bed. He had already been traveling at the back of the party silently for so long, as they rode on toward the palace, he simply pulled away from the group and made a beeline toward the inn they had stayed at previously.
The Pebble and the Pot turns out to be a very friendly place. Despite - or perhaps because of - existing in the middle of the Desolation, everyone here is friendly. You're welcomed in and given a free glass of water - water which is both cool and clean.
As it turns out, the Oasis only exists because a water genie keeps the pond in existence and keeps the water clean. As the genie does her work, you will sometimes see water spouts that jump and dance. In fact, they're called the dancing waters.
My name is Hazim, the bartender says. I run this place with my brother, Abbas.
There's two other taverns. We're the most popular, but not everyone wants a crowd. The Bronze Palm, owned by Fatima Qawi, caters to the upscale. It's a place to have a private conversation, and they take that privacy seriously. The Cross Scimitars is a place for hired muscle. You be careful there; some of them folk have a short temper. Jamal Hassan keeps a tight ship there, but you don't want to cross the wrong person nonetheless.
There's also a few places to purchase a bed.
Hamun Mehran runs a common and cheap house of rest over at the Desert Dingo. Be careful, though; although it's cheap, Hamun will talk your ear off. Abul Kashif is a local who likes to house traveling merchants - very posh. It has a nice exotic look to it. And them there's Zorah’s House of Fortune - owned by Madame Zorah, it's an upscale bordello that can find just about anything you're looking for.
The Bedu is what we call tent City over there. If you've got your own tent, go ahead and pitch it up. It's free, but no promises that someone won't go looking through your stuff when you're not there.
If you're looking for things to buy, whether just to shop or to prepare for your next excursion, Akabar’s Fabulous Market of Wonders is the place to go. An open air market full of many things for sale. All our traveling merchants set up shop there whenever they drop by. Qalmatak’s Alchemical Solvents and Halil’s Scrollworks and Mysteries both specialize in enchantments and chemistry. Lastly, the Sublime Depot of Gal’dardin is a place to get sturdy, dependable desert survival gear.
Seeing the big orc peel off, Kahtia stops her horse, concern knitting her delicate eyebrows. "Charles, Gärwin, Lemuel -- carry on. We will catch up once we have a word with Drot'ook."
Turning her mount, she talks to Tess over her shoulder as they suddenly move to catch up with their exhausted friend. "He has the scepter, the Was," she says simply, as though that is explanation enough for going after him.
They catch him as he reaches the Pebble and the Pot. "Drot'ook," Kahtia calls to him, riding up with Tesswyn still behind her. "Charles and the others intend to see the Shiekh tonight. I know how weary you must be -- but it's important we turn over all the artifacts." Dismounting, she approaches the orc demurely, looking up at him. "Stay here, get a room, rest. I will take the staff to them."
"We will take the staff to them," Tesswyn says, amending the wizard's prior statement. She stands at Kahtia's side, glancing between the woman and the much larger orc. "We'll make sure it makes it to the right hands."
Gärwin was more tired than he could ever remember being. It was only by some miracle he managed to stay in the saddle. Drot'ook also seemed keen to retire but Gärwin felt like he'd rather not meet the Sheik up to his ears in booze. It was best to get things done properly, even if that meant he was exhausted. "Let's get this over with, I'm not rollin' outta bed for a week."
Drot waited until the they women got close before turning to them, a puzzled look on his face.
"The right hands? You can't think that a king isn't going to use these tools for good can you? He already has power over this land, there's no telling what he'll do with power over the dead. Wouldn't we be better suited to watch over these dangerous artifacts?"
The eyes on the scepter, suddenly in his hand, glow with a piercing yellow that pulls your eyes to it.
The effect goes off and Kahtia's arms drop to her side. She is no long a confident woman, but instead a person with a blank stare and no emotions on their face or portrayed with body language.
Compelled
A compelled creature cannot use actions or move. Instead, during each fast turn (see Combat), the creature that bestowed the affliction can force the compelled creature to move up to its Speed or to use an action (not both). The creature that bestowed the affliction makes all decisions on the compelled creature’s behalf.
Please work with each other to make this a good role-playing scene.
Tesswyn's eyes widen as she looks from Kahtia to Drot. "What did you do? Drot, what did you do?"
On instinct, she draws her staff and holds it defensively in front of her. "Fix it! Release it, right now!"
Drot speaks in an overly calm voice, an unnatural tone from the orc. He doesn't move but to stand up straight to his full height.
"Just giving myself a chance to be heard! You saw the things Charles can do with that mask. How can you think that they're so pure as to lock them away. These things were already locked away, it took us nearly dying to get them! How can you be so blind as to not see how this ends for the people of the Oasis?"
Tesswyn snaps her staff forward, knocking the sceptor out of Drot's hands, and then she snatches it out of the air. Unfortunately, this doesn't seem to release Kahtia.
"It's not our place to decide what happens to these things, and frankly, I could give two s~~$s about the people of Oasis! I care about you and Charles, and it is clear just holding these accursed relics is twisting your minds! This ends now!" Tesswyn snaps, unfazed by the looming orc.
Her eyes widen as she stares at the scepter in her hand, momentarily distracted.
Where Kahtia has been so eerily still for a few seconds -- the pregnant, awful seconds it takes Tess to realize what's going on -- suddenly the Tower mage turns and gestures at her friend and lover. Kaht's face is still impassive, but winds rip and swirl, lifting and fluttering the woman's robes and tousling her hair as she casts a powerful elemental spell...
"Impetus Tempestatis," she says flatly, summoning a violent whirlwind in the street behind Tesswyn!
Tesswyn shrieks as the wind hurls her through the street!
As his sister flies through the air Drot's heart sinks. This isn't what he wanted but it's what needs to be done. He easily covers the distance and now looms over her.
He grabs at the scepter and begins his plea, speaking softly.
"You heard it speak to you, didn't you? Don't you see the temptation within these artifacts? They are strong, and they call for terrible actions. If... If you don't trust me, then I will go with you. Follow you to the palace and surrender the scepter to the Shiek... I'm sorry... but I knew you wouldn't hear me. It's rare that anyone does..."
Kahtia's eyes are faintly luminous with that same yellow as she approaches as well. The wind has tumbled her dark hair and opened her robes, revealing glimpses of her lean, tanned and curvaceous body.
"Don't fight us, Tesswyn," she says, kneeling by her friend's side, trying to assist Drot'ook in reliving the rogue of the Was. "Please... we don't want to hurt you."
"I trust you, Drot. I don't trust this scepter! I can't let you keep it!" Tesswyn sobs, tears streaming down her face. She scrambles to her feet...
While Drot and Kahtia assault Tesswyn....
Charles, Gärwin, and Lemuel continue on to the Sheikh's palace. Lemuel and Gärwin on horseback, Charles either walking or flying beside them.
A scream pierces the night - shrill and high pitched. Looking over, the three men see a woman with a look of sheer terror on her face. A man runs over to see what's wrong, and he looks at Charles. Then he starts screaming too, a low wail that he likely isn't even aware he's doing.
A third runs out and sees Charles and his mask of terror, and he screams for the guards. As more people come to see what's going on, more people see the horrific visage of Charles and either start screaming, start running, or get very, very angry.
An arrow goes flying past the group and sticks to a building behind them.
Lemuel jumps off his horse and tries to hide from the growing mob.
Oasis is primarily a tent city, with a few tents more or less "permanent." The permanent tents are mostly coverings for shops or established spots in the bazaar. There are a few permanent buildings, including the two richer inns and the Sheikh's palace.
As everyone was headed towards the Sheikh's, Drot pulled off to head towards the Silver Sands, a more upscale inn which tailors towards merchants and richer clientele.
• The Silver Sands - This upscale inn is operated by Abul Kashif, a Salamander from the Burning Vaults. He relishes his exotic looks and enjoys the awe his lavish inn brings merchants and others who frequent here.
• Zorah’s House of Fortune - Owned by Madame Zorah, this rich and upscale bordello includes exotic men and women and other pleasures based upon taste.
• Tent City - Prop up your own tent for free. Protection from crime is not gaurunteed.
As Drot headed towards the Silver Sands to rest for the night, Kahtia and Tesswyn - riding the same horse - followed. Meanwhile, Gärwin, Charles, and Lemuel continued on towards the two story alabaster palace.
His is when Kahtia and Tesswyn got into an argument with Drot, who then used the power of the sceptor to mind control Kahtia. Tesswyn knocked the sceptor out of Drot's hands, but it did not remove the mind control. Meanwhile, as Drot argued for the necessity of not giving the sceptor to the Shiekh, he grabbed the scepter back from Tesswyn.
At the same time, the other group continued forward. They made it another two blocks before someone witnessed Charles' mask and screamed in horror. Someone came running out to check on them and also succumbed to the horrifying visage of a paladin. This drew even more people, and a mob started forming. Someone in the growing crowd irresponsibly fired an arrow, and Lemuel got off his horse and ran for cover. Someone else started calling for the guards.
Charles had walked into the city, forgetting that even when he did nothing, the mask made him radiate an aura of menace. His allies had seen such things many times and had been only mildly shocked by it, the city of Oasis however, had not.
The first scream had Charles confused as he saw nothing frightening, the second gave him the information he needed. When the third, followed by an arrow and even more occurred, he realized he had caused this panic. It made him almost smile, but the arrow was too far. His instinct was to fly over and grasp whoever had shot at him and make them stop. But he took off the mask instead.
"Let these people listen to me." Charles said, quietly under his breath.
"Good people of Oasis, stop! I am not your enemy, lay down your arms, think about what you are seeing! I am here to speak with the Shiekh, I seek no trouble with you. Go back about your own business!"
Charles takes off his mask and starts to speak, but he becomes suddenly violently ill.
Even in his tired state, Gärwin knew a bad situation when he saw one. Scooping Charles onto Khatia's horse, he rides off as quickly as he can get away from the villagers. He didn't know where the others had went, but his old Outlaw instincts kicked in, and he knew it was time to get out of dodge. He hoped the others hadn't gotten themselves into trouble again.
Charles world suddenly spun. Just as he spoke a sudden surge of nausea and vertigo hit him and everything bad occurred all at once. He stumbled forward, his bowels emptying itself in all ways.
Someone grabbed him, pulling him along. It was Garwin.
"Garwin, I'm... I'm sorry. I... I don't know..."
Gärwin grumbled back to the travesty of a man hanging from his horse. "Don't try 'n talk. This is already embarrassin' enough as it is. Focus on the road, I'll find us some shelter." The poor man was clearly a mess and it was spreading. They'd have to bathe in the morrow.
Gärwin made his way through the tent city, looking for an open, unused tent. His previous experience on the lam proved useful, finding a likely spot in mere minutes. He threw, rather than pulled Charles into the tent, once more getting some of the mess on himself. Grimacing, the dwarf tied his cooking pot and what was left of his old sword together and attached it to the horse. With a hard slap, the horse took off, clanging its makeshift drum with every movement.
The knight slipped into their stolen tent and prepared for what was likely to be a long night. He instinctively reached for his cigars, but they weren't there.
Not taking any chances this time, Tesswyn opens her mind, letting it flood her senses with information. She quickly knocks the scepter out of Drot's hand again and catches it once more!
"Damn it! Damn it! You don't understand, you're going to get us all killed!"
Drot grabs after Tesswyn but she is either too quick or he is too out of sorts but he misses the small woman.
"No! Stop her!"
There is a spark in Kahtia's eyes suddenly, the zeal for life that Tesswyn saw so clearly late that one breathless evening. "Tess..." the mage barely manages, "...run! I can't... I can't..."
Then the spark is gone, and Yarza's lips twist cruelly, forced to speak as the words of a spell come unbidden to her mouth.
"Da baculum ad drot'ook!" the woman shouts as she grips her magestone and gnashes her teeth, angry at herself for being so weak.
Tesswyn gets an equal glazed look in hers eyes as Kahtia had, and she slowly hands the scepter to Drot. Drot just stares at her, at his sister. All of the grand adventures they've been through flashed through his mind, at the same time the shouts from the mob in the distance echo around the tents and wall of the inn.
The orc, still looming over the two women, takes the scepter. As he grasps it, it begins to speak to him once again. Egging him on, telling him that he is one that should rule and that he is all powerful. But the look in his friends' eyes, he hated, he couldn't live with that.
Suddenly, the one who knew how weak Drot'ook was made his opinion known.
YOU NOT POWERFUL! LIES! LIES! THE BERSERKER KNOW YOU WEAK, SCARED LITTLE WEAK ORC! TESSWYN IS YOU STRENGTH, CHARLES IS YOU SHIELD, YOU ARE NOTHING AND YOU KNOW IT! NO MAGIC STAFF MAKE YOU BETTER THAN THEM! NO STAFF!!! NO STAFF!!!
"NO STAFF! NO STAFF! RAAAAAAHHH!!!!
Taking a step back; with a blood curdling yell, Drot and The Berserker grip the scepter, raise it high into the air and with all of their might bring it down upon their knee, snapping it in two with an echoing that rings out over the sound of the mob, the dancing waters, and the silence of the desert.
That mask had been nothing but trouble since the day they got it. Gärwin has seen what it had done to Charles, someone who was supposed to be under some kind of deity's protection. Perhaps it would better that no one had the mask. It had to be destroyed.
The day had been long for all of them, and Gärwin knew that it'd only be a matter of time before Charles fell asleep. As he waited, tension seemed to build in his mind and heart, he couldn't sleep if he tried. After what seemed like ages, it was time to make his move. The dwarf reached into his bag and withdrew a pair of manacles.
He'd spent a good many days patrolling the lands around their village and he'd made arrests with no infrequence. With a practiced hand, he cuffed Charles' hands together. It was a strange feeling, to arrest someone like the priest, but it did not slow Gärwin's movements. He didn't not enjoy what he was about to do, but he told himself it was for the best. Taking the cursed mask in his hands, the dwarf fled into the night.
After Drot mind controlled Kahtia, he and the beautiful Woad woman started combating Tesswyn for the Was.
Finally, after several back-and-forths, Kahtia used magic to Compel Tesswyn to simply give the Was back to Drot. As soon as she did, Drot roared and snapped the scepter over his knee.....
Charles started vomiting hard as the mob started to form, but Gärwin - ever faithful - grabs Charles to protect him. He throws the paladin on the horse and rides off, away from the growing and ever-maddening crowds.
They make it to a tent where Gärwin uses the horse as a distraction, sending it to run off into the night through tent city and out beyond. This causes enough of a rabble that people emerge to see what's going on, but no one noticed the knight and the paladin enter an empty tent.
Charles is covered in vomit and diarrhea - he's unrecognizable in the filth. Gärwin attempts to try and get him clean, but Charles seats away the hand, telling the knight that he's fine and the worst of out is over.
Gärwin is suspicious of the paladin; he eyes the mask with an intent to destroy it. But before he can get a chance, Charles walks out of the tent and dons the mask yet again.
Gärwin heads out to grab him, but Charles slips away and flies above the villa to survey the scene.
Frustrated, Gärwin tried to run after the paladin.
Charles flew up and witnessed the consequences of his actions. The mask was terrifying to behold, and he knew he should have taken it off, but it just felt so natural - so comfortable. He saw the mob forming.
The mob was causing destruction throughout the village. While some seemed to be on a righteous hunt, others are taking the opportunity to steal from vendors or break into the few buildings there are.
And then he saw Tesswyn, the love of his life. She was handing the scepter to Drot, who took it and broke it over his knee...
The mob started forming. Lemuel got off his horse and ran, running into an inn and then out the back. He reformed with the growing mob, trying to blend in.
This is not a good idea, he thought to himself. I never should have let those fools play with Anak'Hainumen's artifacts. They're way too powerful. These things need to be kept locked in a vault. Or behind a glass cage on display in Crossings. That would be nice. Come on, stop your wandering, Lemuel - focus on the task at hand. How do we get them back. The control freak, where did he go? Off to the tents, I think. Saw the dwarf take him that way. But then where's the scepter?
Lemuel was absorbed in thought as he followed along with the crowd. Most people around him were telling and hollering. The gaurds were starting to get wary, and even stepped inside the courtyard and barred the gates to the palace. They weren't here to protect the people, they were here to protect the Sheikh.
He passed by the market; it was trashed. People were taking the opportunity to steal whatever they could. Merchants were trying to pack up what they could before they lost everything. That one there already lost his life.
He heard a scream. Lemuel looked over and saw a woman being dragged into a dark corner of a market tent. He didn't have time to deal with it. He needed to fine the scepter.
Then - there is was. In the hands of the woman he was traveling with. She seemed dazed, just like the pretty one. The only one who wasn't was the orc. Gods! Why did he ever let that orc carry it! He was too afraid to even ask. The beast was nearly seven feet tall! But now he had to find a way. He made his way through the crowd and was about to step in when the orc snapped the scepter over his knee...
The dwarf ran after Charles, but that damned mask allowed the paladin to fly. He kept an eye out, though, and was able to see where the paladin went. So far, it just seemed as if he was looking around. But then, the paladin darted forward to get a better look at something. What could it be?
Drot snapped the Was Scepter over his knee.
Immediately, the bond between him and Kahtia is broken. She becomes a free woman once again. Before the Tower Arcana trained woman can take advantage of the situation, she sees the spark of magic release from the scepter.
The mob came upon the trio of friends just moments before, and they started to rush towards the two humans and the orc when the scepter shattered.
It shattered into a hundred pieces as the magic poured out. It started small, but rapidly grow to a vortex around the trio, forcing them to pull into each other to avoid getting sliced by the shards of the Was. Some of those in the encroaching mob were not so lucky.
Then it exploded.
Drot, Kahtia, and Tesswyn were right at the epicenter. The intensity knocks them all back, flying into people and structures.
Charles, flying slightly above, is also knocked back. He gets thrown into tent city and hits the sands hard, skidding across the surface like Hercules skipping a flat stone across a lake. He takes out more than a few tents as he goes.
The mask is knocked off of Charles as he's thrown.
Gärwin watches Charles get thrown and takes chase, running as fast as his dwarf legs can take him. He finds Charles lying in the sands, and the mask isn't far.
The mask is half buried in the sand, but it's vibrating; the grains of sand making tiny bounces utop it.
The dwarf looked towards the paladin - geeze did the man look a mess. Bruises, dirt, and filth covered the paladin. But there was no time for that. The knight needed to remove that damned mask before it hurt his friend even more..
Gärwin rushed over and slams his khopesh into the mask, destroying it in one slice. Just like the scepter, the mask explodes, throwing Gärwin backwards.
The shards of the mask and the shards of the scepter fly towards each other; the two meet in the middle where another burst of magical energy pours out, rapidly expanding like a star going nova. The explosion is silent, but the impact is not. It shatters nearby buildings causing them to start to collapse.
Nearby people in the mob are instantly melted. Those further out are blown backwards, and not all survive the ordeal.
A crack in reality forms where the shards met, drawing a crooked blackness in the sky. It can only be seen because it blocks the starlight - or even the moonlight if you're looking at it from the proper angle.
As he brought down his weapon, the mask exploded in a burst of magical power. The kopesh flew from Gärwin's hands, slicing into the dwarf's face as it escaped his grasp. The weapon would not be found until the following morning, imbedded into the heart of a statue. No matter what was tried, it could not be dislodged, leaving a grim monument of what had happened that day.
For Gärwin though, he succumbed to his wounds and fell unconscious. The knight had never fully recovered from the journey they had made and the collected wounds took their toll. It was up to fate now what happened to the poor dwarf.
The glazed look in Tesswyn's eyes lasts only a few seconds, and she returns to her senses in time to see Drot'ook bringing the scepter down towards his knee. "Drot! No--!" she shrieks, eyes wide, lunging towards her friend--her best friend, her brother, one of the few people in the world she actually cares about.
If only she had been a little faster...
The detonation hurls the girl through the air, sending her tumbling end over end. She slams hard into the side of a building and feels bones crack with the impact. She groans and falls to the street, battered and dazed.
Then the nova of magical energy washes over her. The staff she had claimed from the swamp hag flares green and melts into slag, burning through the armwraps she just recently acquired. Those sizzle before bursting, leaving charred flesh along the length of her arms. The extendable ladder on her belt pops and explodes as well, though the small item doesn't burn Tess too badly.
"F##*..." she groans as she pushes off the ground and steels herself to survey the extent of the devastation.
As the dust clears, and the destructive magical energies that decimated Oasis drift, glittering into the night sky, Kahtia lies unmoving in the street, naked and scorched.
Drot had only every seen something so spectacular once before. On the day this whole "Journey" began he had found a chest in the attic of the old shop he worked at. Much like the brash decision he made just moments ago, he had opened the chest and in it found sights that he could not explain to this day. Maybe it for told of this moment, maybe it was a coincidence. Nonetheless he woke up much the same, to screams, to destruction and death; this time caused primarily by him. He sputters and coughs blood into the sand beside him, reaching for anyone anything. The explosion was so fantastically bright in his eyes that he was still blind in the night. His body was so overloaded with sensation that he felt little to no pain, but it slowly was creeping back to him.
One, two, yup those are missing fingers. That ring is gone...
He barely gets himself to a sitting position as the fires around him blaze. He ended up in the middle of what was left of the inn. He dragged himself toward where he knew the waters and genie were, beginning to stand but losing his balance as the lower part of his leg was completely charred to the bone. Useless now, no doubt.
What... What have I done... WE DID BAD... NEED FOOT AND HAND...
"Tess.. Charles..."
He tried to muster some volume, but his throat was burnt and dry. He slowly crawled his way toward the waters. Still searching for anyone, he knew, anyone that could make sense of what happened.
Tesswyn's heart stops as she sees Kahtia's charred and still form across the street. "No!" she wails, stumbling to her feet and staggering over to the wizard's body. She falls to her knees and cradles the other woman's head as tears pour down her cheeks. She bites her lip to keep from screaming in pain as her seared fingers fumble for a healing potion. "Please, be alive! You have to be! You have to be..." she sobs quietly.
Charles felt bad for leaving Garwin behind but the sounds of the rioting town were enough to draw him to find a solution to the problem he'd inadvertently caused. As he took to the air and looked down below he spotted many problems, as he decided where he could do the most good, he spotted where Tesswyn was but something was strange. He flew in closer to see Kahtia standing unusually still and Tesswyn was handing Drot'ook the Was. He was confused for a moment but before he could do more, Drot'ook snapped the Was over his knee with a ferocious yell.
Suddenly was blasted back through the air tumbling end over end, losing altitude as he crashed into tents below. He hit the first, bounced off the ground and slammed into the other.
Pain ran through his body. So much pain. Things were severely bruised, battered and he was bleeding. He raised his hand to heal himself but stopped.
"Drot. Kahtia. Tesswyn! No, I have to get back there!"
Charles instinctively tried to fly and realized he couldn't.
The mask! Where is it?
He pushed himself up off the ground, his gaze sweeping around himself with manic energy, looking for the mask. Then he spotted it, in the sand half buried some distance away... and then he saw Garwin arrive.
The Dwarf raised his weapon into the air and Charles reached for him, crying out in desperation, his voice adding to the screams of the townsfolk surrounding them.
"Garwin! Garwin, no!! STOP!!!" but it was too late, the dwarf swung and destroyed the mask and he was immediately engulfed by the ensuing explosion.
Charles ducked his head in defense and looked up as the Dwarf hit the ground. He was shaking with a mixture of fear and fury at his friend.
What the hell? What the HELL?!
"Why?!" he shouted at the unconscious dwarf. But then his vision caught something else. Shards of the Mask and Was began flying towards each other. Reality seemed to collapse in on itself and a huge magical backlash occurred, Charles was already flinging himself down into the ground again.
Charles huddled desperately down in the sand. His hands covered his head as the explosion occurred. He used his pack to cover himself which seemed to take the brunt of the damage that was occurring. The mist bowl melted, most of everything inside his pack was lost, his ring seemed to become marred but held, his armor covered in whatever strange effect the tear in reality had. The back of his neck was burned.
Charles rolled out and away from his pack, desperately rubbing at the back of his neck. The scene of carnage before him was a vision he had not seen ever before. Everything else that had happened seemed so small in comparison. He stumbled his way over to Garwin's smoking body, gritting his teeth in anger.
"You! You damn idiot! Look what you've DONE!! I could have found a way to fix this!" he grabbed the dwarf by the armor, lifting him up into a sitting position, his vision not allowing him to look away from the carnage. But his gaze flickered over to an unnatural bend in the air.
In that moment, Charles fear and anger turned into something else. It was hard to notice, even for him, as something he had hoped he would never have to see again happened right there and then. A tear in reality began to form. A cold calmness swept over him and he looked down at the Dwarf.
"By the blessing of the New God, heal this fool."
"I'm not going to let you die so easily. Now get up!" Charles growls in a low raspy voice, hauling him up off the ground. "We're going to find the others."
Kahtia is a mess. Large swaths of her beautifully tattooed skin are blistered and scorched, and her dark, lustrous hair is gone, turned to ash as magical fire consumed the woman when the shards of the two artifacts of power came together.
She is also, however, alive, and while her eyes don't open, her lips part and a groan escapes them as Tess cradles her naked, charred body...
"Kahtia!" Tesswyn sobs with relief to see the wizard still draws breath. She carefully pours the healing draught into her mouth, helping her drink it. As the woman's burns begin to vanish, she cradles Kahtia's head in her lap and tenderly presses her lips against those of the magician. "I thought I lost you..."
Gärwin awoke to find the surprisingly uninjured Charles shouting at him. He'd expected this, but it still stung. "What in the 'ell were you thinking? As soon as you were done pukin' your guts out, you throw the damned mask on again! How did you THINK the people were goin' to react to a g*%#$@n flying s@#&stain? You were losing' control of yerself, and I wasn't about t' let you become the next Ankhuham or whatever the 'ell he was called!"
Gärwin's helmet fell from his head, ruptured from a massive cut that had cleaved through and into the dwarf's head. As he walked, blood continued to pour from his wound, but the dwarf had nothing to say. He saw the destruction of Oasis before him, and couldn't bear to look at Charles. Was this the result of my actions? What happened to everyone else?
Gärwin felt his blood run cold and he chased after the already sprinting Charles.
As people start to rouse and become aware of their surroundings, they notice subtle changes in others.
Results of the mysterious dice:
Charles barely heard Garwin's retort as he ran across the town. His left ear felt like it was burning but he endured the pain for now.
"Hurry up, Garwin! Drot'ook broke the rod and it caused an explosion. You broke the mask and another one happened, now Oasis is going to disappear!" he shouted back at the Dwarf over his shoulder.
He had a lot more to say but he knew time was short. What had happened in Asylum those years ago when everything had started for him was about to happen again and he didn't know how to stop it.
Please be alive! he prayed silently to his god as he ran towards the scene of the first explosion.
Tesswyn suddenly knows that Kahtia has been right at death's doorstep -- such a kiss would normally have been returned lustily, but the mage is only able to smile weakly against her friend's lips.
"Not yet," the badly injured woman whispers. The healing magic is working, but Yarza's wounds are near mortal. Sitting up with Tess' help, the woman slowly brings a hand to what's left of her smoldering hair, then she looks down and takes note of her charred, soot-blackened nakedness.
"I've been... meaning... to cut my hair..." she says woozily as she clambers to unsteady legs. "It's inconven... inconvenient for travel. Where is... is Drot'ook... alive?"
Finding a piece of wood, only charred and still sturdy, Drot was able to stand and look around. His wounds, though severe, were not causing him as much trouble as they normally would. The charring left him with little pain and minimal blood loss.
He was able to spot Tesswyn; sobbing over the body of, presumably, Kahtia and he expected the worst. He slowly began to make his way over to them, over the ruins of the building and around the burning debris.
He had never been so uncertain of what was to come.
Even more so when he was able to see Charles and Gärwin rushing toward them, and the rift in the sky that he was barely able to notice behind them.
Charles and Gärwin come rushing up to meet with Drot, Tesswyn, and Kahtia.
Tesswyn is helping Kahtia stand, and Drot is standing nearby. The three look hurt with some burns and bruises, but otherwise no worse for wear. Drot seems to be favoring one leg.
Gärwin and Charles, however, look completely different.
The dwarf's hair has completely fallen off. His beautiful glittering beard, kept up so meticulously for as long as he can remember, is held in one hand, as if it all was sheared off at once. Anyone who will learn his name in the future might think he was given such a name out of mockery. He's covered in cuts and scrapes and dried up blood.
Charles looks even worse, though. Covered in filth, vomit, and feces, the smell hits you before he arrives. His clothes are a complete mess. His face is filthy. His hair is wild and dirty. One ear is shorn off and trickling blood.
Tesswyn looks from Drot to the ghastly Charles and Garwin. A wide range of emotions play out over her face in a brief span of time. There would be a chance for angry imprecations and sorrowful conversations later. Right now it was about survival. "What the f++$ do we do now?" she asks nobody in particular.
Charles let out a sigh of relief he saw that everyone, while hurt, was still alive.
He came over despite the cringing looks of disgust he got and prayed to his deity.
"By the grace of the New God, aid us in our time of need."
"I want answers for what the hell just happened over here! I don't know what possessed you to snap the Was staff Drot'ook, and Garwin reacted without thinking when he smashed the mask after the first explosion but now we have a much worse situation on our hands. The destruction of both the relics tore a hole in the fabric of the world and now there's a portal leading to somewhere else. This is a lot like what happened in Asylum."
He turned and walked back a few spaces to give everyone some relief from the smell he was sure was hitting them and turned to look between Drot'ook and Tesswyn knowingly.
"Drot'ook, you had some knowledge of how to close it last time. How do we do it now?"
Gärwin ignored Charles and moved forward to Drot'ook's aid. "Les' get you off that leg at th' very least. I don't want you fallin' behind if we gotta make a break for it." Taking the orc's arm over his shoulders, he tries to prop up the injured orc.
The dwarf looked up at the others, a grave expression on his face. "I'm not sure how much time we 'ave, but we owe it t' the people here to look for survivors."