At the tapping, Luthael casts Stone Shape to open an awkward bearkin-sized opening in the wall which can be well defended from the inside, so he can attempt to save another casting.
When you point out the stone throne tucked within the opening of the cliff, she gives it a thoughtful look. She taps the handle of the carving knife on her chin a few times and then looks back at you.
"Maybe that's what all the others are after? Why they want to hurt me so much?" She ponders. [/b]"I don't know why an old hard rock chair could be so important. It's been here the whole time. For as long as I can remember. Maybe we could move it out of here and they'll leave me alone. What do you think?"[/b]
Before turning her spit and polish upon the ancient shield, Scramsax gives the corpse of the arcanist a thorough search. Aside from the already snatched wand and component pouch, the halfling discovers a pair of scrolls, spellbook, and amethyst ring along with fifty-two gold coins and seventeen silver.
The apprentice also had a spellbook, although most of the pages are blank, along with a dagger and random coins totaling twenty-seven silver.
Dumping the bodies through the stone hole "...eh, ahoy Gunz, found some books and stuff." off-loading the spellbooks and spellscrolls while mentioning the other treasures for possible inspection. "...and hey, if one of those happens to be that stone-to-flesh reversal ritual thing...I'd be pretty interested. Prophet, hand me some of these dirty syringes, would you? Need to make this huge bloodstain on the floor outside look like a little oopsie-woopsie instead of glaring evidence of our incursion..." the thief smirked.
"Well met, Emilee," Raseri says as she holds our her hand.
Turning their attention to the throne, the priestess shakes her head.
"I know not. Dare say I that more likely 'tis the power you hold within than 'tis this strange chair," she answers before grinning. "Though agree I do that stone a poor cushion makes. Willoughby would make a far more comfortable seat if he would allow." Raseri gestures to a massive bear so round and fluffy his limbs are little more than nubs amid the soft fur.
She turns her attention back to Emilee as her form and clothing shift. The arms and armor, save for Logi, are gone as Raseri appears to be a girl around Emilee's age and dressed in a green dress and a white blouse much like the ones she'd worn after escaping the hag that had tortured for centuries.
"Shall we see what secrets lay there," Raseri asks as she takes Emilee's hand with her own. Before the thrill of discovery can sweep her away, the priestess remembers that she came here for a reason. "Though, a way out I should find. For you and for me. That is why I came here."
Gunnar stands ready in case there is a threat on the other side of the wall, then relaxes a bit when he sees his allies are safe and the foes are dead.
”Good job, you two,” he says as he takes the proffered items and sets them out. ”I can get to work on these if I am not needed to be ready to act should the gem excursion not go as planned.”
The thief smirked, wiping her icy finger clean on the dead doctor's apron "Heh. Glad to see the holiest Thorsdottir finally learned the most important moral: a good gem's always up for grabs..."
Taking the syringes and small carrier cart back to the scene of battle, Scramsax the Crime-scene Stager created a story in items. Pulling one last drag from the cashed filter of a thousand would-be super-sleuths, the thief "arranged the situation" to be an unfortunate spillage of samples being carted down the hall. A broken floor-tile no doubt snagged the ungreased wheel of the phlebotomist's rolly cart...the blood-filled glass syringes springing free in wild accident.
Certainly not a big angry bear and her trusty friend spilling the throat-gushy blood of an important anti-boning ally.
Luthael hands the dirty syringes to Scramsax trusting in her nature to erase her crimes.
Turning back to the throne, you feel the tingle of power emanating from the seat. It is a power different from what you feel within the girl. Her's is natural, born from within her own essence and being. Whereas this stone ruin appears to be artificial. Tied to this place, or more likely the gem housing this strange dimensional prison.
Upon clearing away the last of the overgrowth, you spot yet another toy. But this is no wooden carving. It is a worn and rather tattered teddy bear. A bit of stuffing pokes from a hole in its brown side and a beaded eye is missing.
"Oh! There he is." Emilee says her eyes also alighting on the bear. "I wondered where you got off to Pooka." Moving over to pluck the bear from the chair. She wraps the dirt stained toy in a big hug, nestling her face against the soft fabric. "I didn't know it until just now, but I've missed you terribly." She adds with a small sniffle.
Suddenly she turns to you, wiping a few tears from her eyes. "Thank you for helping me find Pooka, but we should go back down now." She says turning back to the throne with a frown. Rubs her arms as if remembering some frightful or painful moment. "I don't like this place and I don't like that chair."
Meanwhile, outside the gem, Scramsax leaves nary a trace of the recent altercation with the hags medical staff. All that remains of the recent deaths are a few cracked tiles and scuff marks where one of the various carts was carelessly allowed to damage the hall. Unsurprising, given the quality of lower level henchmen and underlings available these days.
While the halfling tidies, Ingryd nurses her headache and the burning fires of rage at their hag hostess. Luthael continues to monitor the rather still and unnervingly 'empty' body of Raseri as she continues to explore the depths of whatever is held within the strange gemstone. And Gunnar examines the items taken from the nosy arcanist.
He begins with the potion. A cursory glance reveals the magical aura surrounding the small flask. A spicy scent of curry, lemon, and radishes emanates from the container. Tipping a few drops into a small glass vial, the wizard adds a few reagents from his pouches, mutters a few words of incantation. And finally nods with certainty as he declares the flask to contain a Potion of Climbing.
The length of soapstone wand carved with a simple block maze motif on the handle and tipped with a piece of cut amber is indeed imbued with the ability to summon forth a Wall of Force. Unfortunately, the dwarf tests the remaining arcane energy within the wand and finds it to be rather meager. Only one charge remains within the device.
The ring is of little interest to the wizard, it having no magical properties.
Examining the scrolls, he finds the first to contain only a single minor spell. Something to do with the manipulation of shadows.
2nd-level illusion
Casting Time: 1 action
Range: 60 feet
Components: V, S, M (a pinch of powdered lead)
Duration: Concentration, up to 1 minute You are able to animate the shadow of a creature within range, causing it to attack the creature who cast it. Make a melee spell attack against the creature. If it hits, the target takes 2d8 psychic damage and must make a successful Intelligence saving throw or be paralyzed until the start of your next turn.
At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 3rd level or higher, the damage increases by 1d8 for each slot level above 2nd.
The second scroll is a treasure trove all by itself. As the dwarf delves the contents of the arcane writings he can't help but consider his companions rather lucky that their opponent did not take the time to unleash one of the more potent magics contained within the parchment pages. The first is a potent spell creating a well of necromantic, soul devouring energy. The second appears to turn an individual into a statue or ice and eternal spy for the winter god. The third spell is one familiar to the dwarf, a simple Knock casting to open doors and chests. A fourth study reveals the Phantasmal Killer spell used against Ingryd. The fifth and sixth spell are already quite familiar to Gunnar and his companions being an arcane Shield casting and Fireball. The seventh spell perhaps reveals some of the puzzle of the gemstone and its creation as the spell is that of the potent Imprisonment conjuration.
Looking through the caster's spellbook, Gunnar finds formula which although slightly different in form and structure result in effects already familiar to the wizard. The exceptions being the Blackwell, Phantasmal Killer, Shadow Puppets, and Knock.
6th-level necromancy (illumination)
Casting Time: 1 action
Range: 300 feet
Components: V, S
Duration: Concentration, up to 1 minute
You summon a seething sphere of dark energy 5 feet
in diameter. The sphere pulls creatures toward it and
devours the life force of those it envelops. Every creature
other than you that starts its turn within 90 feet of the
black well must make a successful Strength saving throw
or be pulled 50 feet toward the well. A creature pulled
into the well takes 6d8 necrotic damage and is stunned; a
successful Constitution saving throw halves the damage
and reduces the stun to incapacitation. A creature that
starts its turn inside the well also makes a Constitution
saving throw; the creature is stunned on a failure or
incapacitated on a success. An incapacitated creature that
leaves the well recovers immediately and can take actions
and reactions that turn. Creatures take damage only upon
entering the well—they take no additional damage for
remaining in it—but if they leave the well and are pulled
back in again, they take damage again. A total of nine
Medium creatures, three Large creatures, or one Huge
creature can be inside the well's upper-dimensional space
at one time. When the well's duration ends, all creatures
inside it tumble out in a heap, landing prone.
At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using
a spell slot of 7th level or higher, the damage done by
the well increases by 1d8 and the well pulls creatures an
additional 5 feet for each slot level above 6th.
6th-level transmutation (rune)
Casting Time: 1 action
Range: 100 feet
Components: V, S, M
Duration: Permanent
If the target fails a Charisma saving throw, it and its
equipment are frozen solid, becoming a physically
inert statue of ice. The creature is effectively paralyzed,
but mental activity does not cease and signs of life are
detectable; the creature still breathes and its heart
continues to beat, though both happen so slowly as to
be almost imperceptible. If the ice statue is broken or
damaged while frozen, the creature will have matching
damage or injury when returned to its original state. Dispel
magic can't end this spell, but it can allow the target to speak
(but not move or cast spells) for 1 round per the spell slot
used. Greater restoration or more potent magic is needed
to free a creature from the ice. Boreas and certain of his
followers can use scrying to spy through the target’s senses,
and the target receives no saving throw against this effect.
Those touching a frozen target can request an audience
with Boreas, and if they make a successful DC 15 Charisma
check, he'll respond to their request through the ice.
Gunnar passes off the potion of climbing but holds onto the wand of Wall of Force. He says, "The charge in this wand is low and it may cease to function if the remaining magic is drained. Most items of this type recharge on a regular basis, so hopefully it will be stronger tomorrow."
Taking the scrolls and the spellbooks, Gunnar starts making plans on which spells to incorporate into his spellbook, how much time it will take, and how much of his arcane component stash will be needed.
Seeing the imprisonment spell, Gunnar adds, "This last spell may be of use in helping understanding what is happening in the gem. Let me study it now and see if I can use what I learn to help address our current situation."
"Nice to meet you, Pooka," Raseri says as she gives the bear a shake, using her magic to clean him up and mend the tear. "I'm glad I was able to reunite you with your friend," she tells the girl before the throne grabs her attention once more.
Looking over the throne, the priestess frowns and has to agree with Emilee about no liking either this place or the chair. She nods and follows the girl back down to the grotto. She thinks she understands what's going on now and asks Emilee to sit with her as she explains things.
"Emilee, I think that this place was made to control you and your power. That throne is tied to the rest of this place and the power I feel from it isn't yours. One of my companions kept this gem from getting into your body and taking control of it, and I realized that your body was still alive, somehow. That's why I came here, to find you and get you back into your body. I--I wish I could undo everything they did to you, but I'm not sure even all of may companions and I working together could restore your body fully, but maybe with your help, we can."
Raseri sighs, knowing that she's asking a lot of a frightened and brutalized girl, no matter how powerful she may be.
"Emilee, do you trust me," she asks.
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Luthael cradles Raseri's limp body waiting for a sign of consciousness.
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As was her habit, Scram quickly fished out the special tiny tarts magi used to cast hideous laughter from the snackpack spell component pouch.
There was a specially wrapped pair in every pouch.
While simultaneously adorable and delicious, after an intense inner struggle the rogue ultimately tossed the miniature frosted pastries aside...visions of tainty cocoa still sending her stomach in knots.
So it was the thief approached the dirty, dirty, shield maiden on an empty stomach...
"Envy, listen...I'm going to give you a good, solid wipe. I know you are already mad about the blood and probably other things too...and I know you are going to yell and protest basically no matter what actually happens. That's what all sentient objects do, I get it." Pausing for a moment "...except Void Hammer, he's cool. But fair warning: I don't know the precise coordinates all up in there which locate your armpits, for one. You can inform me now, or get tickled and it will be your fault."
As expected, the shield started yelling non-stop "Ok, you can tell me in 3 seconds or I don't care anymore. 3...2..."
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"Of course I do." She says as if there could be any doubt. Releasing you from the hug she waves her hands toward her gathered companions. "If you really were out to hurt me, they would have known right away. Especially Xav, he's really good at spotting those who want to hurt me."
The dragon, once again nothing more than the size of a small child's toy, snorts as he rest comfortably on a warm flat rock near the pool.
"What are we going to do?" She asks eagerly.
What? Oh, are you the cleaning wench assigned to me by Mistress Ingryd? The shield says to Scramsax. Well, I don't particularly care for your tone, I do not yell and shout except when circumstances force me to do so.
This elicits a burst of laughter and exclamations of disbelief from her weapon companions. Even void hammer can be heard muttering something about an epic lack of self awareness.
Hmmpff. The shield snorts in haughty reply. I'll not debate my constant mistreatment with the likes of you three...
The gods do exist. Says the sword.
Nothing has ever stopped you before. Adds the spear.
Truly, if you did not, it would make me question the futility of everything. Replies the hammer.
OH! You arrogant pig iron barbarians. Why, I can't believe how often I've had to put up with...
Ahhh... Sighs the void hammer. It's good to know that nothing ever truly changes so there is no point.
What?! Now, you just shut up you. A tassel suddenly wriggles on the shield. Start here wench, there is something particularly sticky. I can't tell if it's a bit of brain or yet another honey soaked finger print. I swear doesn't that bearkin ever wash her hands?
Raseri grins at Emilee's vote of confidence as she returns the girl's hug.
"We," she says as she gestures to all of Emilee's friends, "are going to leave this awful place behind. After that, we're going to see if Luthael and Gunnar can help us undo what those awful people did to you. After that, well, we can worry about that after we get you back on your feet."
Once Emilee, Xav, Pooka, and everyone else is ready to leave, Raseri guides them out of the gem.
Scrubbing dutifully "Never seen brain come out of a slit throat before. Not saying it can't happen, just never seen it. Ho! Wait a minute..." the thief scuffed a bumpy mole spot intently "...what's this, this little guy down here..? Have you been monitoring it? Seems characterized by a queer size, color, shape, and texture. Do you have any family history with thrice-enchanted soul vessel spots like this? Might only be benign but...I think we should perform a shave biopsy excision to be safe. Hang on, I have just the ticket..." pulling out a gnarly metal file.
"...yes...that's it...now hold very still..."
"Scram, stop trying to scare her. She is a bit...self indulgent, but all in all she is a great shield and she likes ro look nice. I want her to feel seen and wanted. So if I indulge he, its rhe least I can do." She says with a smile, gore and blood still on her body.
"Ennui, though, seems you are opening up. Though the viod is your vision, I shall show you what joy life can be." she says pattinf the Hammer warmly. A mother very much reassuring a child
Halting a scuff a moment "...no, I wasn't being judgy. Moles can really enhance a woman's beauty if grown in the right position. And without any of that weirdly coarse, dark mole hair. Mmhm. Bald moles are best, adjacent to the lips or nostrils are really something special...I do see her, Griz, and she is beautiful." the scoundrel sarcastically drawled on.
At the same time, a certain sadness came over the halfling. Void Hammer, as she knew him, was rapidly dwindling into a parental-guidance-suggested version of itself. The jewel thief thus reflected on the past virtues of the void.
Your swift flight is becoming more like a swim through thick clinging muddy waters or the gelatinous innards of various dungeon dwelling oozes and slimes. Progress slows to a clawing crawl and your entire being feels heavier, heavier, heavier. Each figure on your person drags on you like a sack of potatoes. The worst is Emilee's own hand gripping yours. Suddenly it feels like you a trying to drag a dead dragon across a desert. The girl herself has grown quiet, her breathing labored. Sweat pours from her forehead and her face is pinched. Clearly she is struggling to break through whatever barrier holds her within this cursed realm.
Within the confines of the chamber where Luthael holds vigil over Raseri, the priest's brow suddenly furrows with concern. While Scramsax ponders the potential beauty implications of various skin ailments or marks sending the shield into a panic over a potential blemish in her perfect self, Raseri's body suddenly begins to twitch. Sweat breaks out across her face and her breathing grows heavy as if she is struggling against some great weight or force. Despite all of this she remains deeply unconscious regardless of any efforts made to revive or restore her to herself.
[dice=Arcana to understand the Imprisonment spell and perhaps how to use it or reverse it to free Raseri and the proper trapped spirit from the gem]1d20+9
One of those other aspects you have already witnessed. The gemstone's drive to connect itself to living tissue and establish control over that organic body. From what you have been able to surmise, the gem is the central device in creating some sort of controlled super warrior. Armed with partially mechanized and arcane enhanced organs along with an adamantine lined skeleton, such a creation would be terrifying to fight. More durable, stronger, and faster than even the best trained knight or warrior, and also holding the potential capacity for manipulation of arcane forces as well.
It would not be the first time some hag, devil, or wizard set about trying to create the perfect henchman. But always, there is a flaw with such things. Constructs do not typically think beyond their simple commands. Crafted monsters, assuming they even survive emerging from the vats, can be terribly unpredictable, easily distracted, or overly bloodthirsty and hard to control. Yet, could this evil hag have found an answer? Unlike most constructs or engineered monsters, Raseri's discovery of souls, the essence of beings, captured within the stone, could be an answer. Create the perfect body and then fill it with the mind and soul of one trained to think, trained to obey, trained to fight, trained to both fear and love its creator. The perfect assassin.
The thought is disconcerting to say the least. Especially as you know your companion wishes to bring the one housed inside back into the waiting body.
But there is something more to the puzzle. Why house multiple spirits within the gem? Such a thing makes no sense. Creating multiple personalities would make for a very unpredictable creature. Then you consider your arrival upon the scene. You and your companions disrupted the entire process. Unleashed a chain reaction of chaotic energy near the height of the operation. What if the gem captured the spirits of the surgical team or some of them? Was one of those spirits what tried to escape and take over Raseri earlier. It was possible. Yet, if the priestess is successful in bringing forth the original prisoner within the gem, what would she truly be bringing into the world? How had the arcane chaos affected the one housed inside the gem already? If she was truly nothing more than a young girl, there may be hope. But if she is truly something else...
You let the question float unanswered in your mind for suddenly Raseri's body begins to twitch and convulse. Something was clearly happening within the stone. A moment later you feel the power of the prison pushing back as the priestess tries to force her way out. Dispelling the Imprisonment layer, would set her free, along with whoever, whatever, accompanies her. To leave it in place will leave the gem's original inhabitant inside, perhaps, Raseri as well for if she has interacted with the subject long enough, the magic might begin to sense her presence and be able to contain her as well.
Raseri is no scholar of the arcane, now is she the most pious of priests. The years she's spent wandering the Shadow Roads have changed her into something besides human. Small and slender she may look, but she's far from some delicate and fragile flower. Her muscles were corded and honed by the forge. Her will remade after fear and timidity had shattered it. Time and time again she's been knocked down. She may seem silly or flighty at times, but there's no gainsaying her stubborn refusal to give up when others are in danger.
She grabs Emilee and holds her tight.
"Don't let go, little sister," the priestess tells the girl. "We will get out of here."
Arcane artifacts can be powerful, even frightfully so, but one thing Raseri has learned is that they are also reliant on very fragile, very precise glyphs and circuits. Break them, and the artifact turns into only so much useless scrap.
And she's yet to find anything that delicate able to resist a blow from a hammer swung hard enough.
She summons a shadow of Mjolnir once again, burning through her most potent magic, and lets it lead the charge as she drops a few score feet before rocketing up in the wake of Thor's hammer.
As the Thorsdottir lay silent, Scram's attention couldn't help but drift towards Heiður...the greatsword which now held the sapphire orb once stolen from Illarya. The thief wondered what fraction of the dryad still remained within its facets, with Scramsexy somehow keeping all of its femininity...the orb wrenched free of his medulla oblongata and psionic nexus when Raseri murdered him (in cold blood).
If Raseri indeed could emerge unscathed from this adamantine spewing ruby prison, perhaps she could one day plunge the depths of the sapphire as well. What would it mean to bring forth the missing identity-element of Scram-Illarya? The thief thus layed out his jeweler's tools in the periphery of Gunnar's vision...just in case the arcanist had any use for her cutting/trimming skills. Perhaps giving the gem a new geometry through mechanical means would reflect on its inner, arcane formulae.
”I trust Raseri’s judgement on picking the right time and spirit to bring out of the gem—but be ready in case the spirit has deceived her and is truly a malevolent one,” says Gunnar, starting the process of dispelling the gem’s imprisonment magic long enough for Raseri to escape.
Seizing upon an idea, he adds, ”Luthael, please use your divine senses to discern if the spirit following our friend out of the gem is good or evil. If you can sense it is evil, tell me and I will do my best to shut the door behind Raseri and leave the evil presence trapped within.”
Or not. ;)
"Gotcha" Ingryd says as she sits in the blood of the wizard.
Luthael cocks an eyebrow at Gunnar wondering what these divine senses that the dwarf thinks he has. He is just a simple prophet who bears the divine powers that his Lord Khors deems appropriate.
In the cradle of his arms, he can feel the health of Raseri, and his concern with her safety continues to increase like Gunner's, the longer she remains unconscious. He shifts her weight against his to put his hands on top of hers that hold the gem. Psychically, spiritually, he calls out to the Thorsdottir, Raseri!
As Gunnar and Luthael lean in closer to examine the gem they notice a sparkle of blue-white light burst from within the ruby stone. It is quite different from the previous pulses and flickering crimson hued light that has glittered from within the curious stone. Yet, it is also a very familiar light. Seen many times now by everyone among the small fellowship of adventurers. For it is the light of the Thorsdottir. Raseri's calling card as much as Gunnar's own lightning, Luthael's holy fire, Ingryd's voidblack hammer, or Scramsax's sea green blade flying from the shadows.
Once, twice, thrice, the blue-white light flares within the tiny prison of the stone. Flares and fades away. Flares and fades.
Sensing their companions imminent return, but unsure as to who or what might accompany her this time, Luthael prays for guidance from the Lord of Light.
Unfortunately, Khors, Lord of the Sun, Bright Master of the Chariot, Son of Svarog, the Perfect Knight, Lord of Light and Destroyer of the Darkness, Patron of the Magdar, Friend to Magus and Warrior is unavailable at the moment as he is much too busy primping in preparation for a long awaited date with Sif. Of course the Sun God doesn't realize the Mistress of Valkyries only relented to the excursion because of a date from Loki, but that and the subsequent fallout from the rather short-lived and disastrous romantic evening is another story. Needless to say, Luthael, receives little guidance or support beyond his own gut instinct as to what spirit might be accompanying his own heart's love from the hag's gemstone prison.
However, something holds you back. Prevents you from crossing that threshold to freedom. Your arm passes through, your head. But as soon as one you try to pass through with Emilee or any one of her carved companions, you find any further movement forward impossible. An invisible barrier still exists. Although the prison door is open, it is only so for yourself. For your companion, the barrier still holds.
With no guidance forthcoming from Luthael, Gunnar starts reading the scroll of imprisonment, though he inverts key phrases and gestures to morph it into an inversion of the magic contained with in. Much the way a simple spell can be used to counter itself, the Dwarven mage uses the imprisonment scroll to counter its twin already upon the gem.
After her first attempt to pass through smacked the top of Emilee's head against whatever barrier still holds the poor girl, a very contrite Raseri apologizes and tries to think of how to deal with this. She's free, but Emilee isn't. Raseri isn't willing to leave the young girl behind, not when there's still another presence in this gem that could harm her.
"Sorry Emilee,"[\b] she says as she casts a healing spell to help sooth the young girl's hurts. [b]"I thought we were both free. Looks like we'll have to figure something else out, or hope Gunnar or Luthael know of a way to break this cursed prison from the outside. Does it still hurt?"
But before you can answer another vibration ripples through the air. It is the rumble of an earthquake, but the ground is not the only thing shifting and moving. The very air trembles with motion and tension. The barrier itself ripples and begins to shift colors from it crimson red to an amber yellow then a few moments later a flat pale white.
The opening created by your hammer then turns bright and clear. You even feel a breeze begin to blow through the opening as if it were an open window on a summer afternoon. As light strikes the outside of the white barrier it begins to shift and change again becoming clear and then crackling. All across the sky from horizon to horizon the barrier begins to crackle and crumble like shattered glass. From outside you hear Gunnar's rumbling, throating voice as the wizard finishes some unfamiliar casting.
Then a brilliant flash and boom of shifting energy...
Gunnar begins his incantation. Reversing the Imprisonment spell using the discovered scroll. At first, it seems like nothing is changing as the wizard completes the first altered segment of the casting. But as he initiates the second segment the gemstone begins to change. Its crimson color turns a golden yellow and then a pale white. The dwarf's voice rumbles to the third segment and suddenly light flashes from within the gem. It slowly begins to turn clear and a few moments shatters and turns to little more than a few shards of broken quartz and dust. The air shifts with a loud POP!. Another flash of brilliant light and Raseri's eyes flutter open.
Looking at the corpse of the patient the surgical team had been operating on, everyone sees it begin to twitch and convulse. An eye flutters open, its mechanical companions stays closed and inactive while the jaw snaps open and closed as if wanting to say something but having no knowledge of how to do so. Great gurgling gasps suddenly fill the room as the mechanical lungs attempt the hurculean effort of trying to breath with only a partial bioconnection.
A few moments later there is a third flash of light. It lingers within the room for a heartbeat or two and then proceeds to slip out of the office through a crack along the edge of the door.
Before Raseri can answer Emilee, everything changes. Fire lances up her torn left arm as she gasps from the shock of returning to her body. She sits up with groan, then quickly gains her bearings as she hears Emilee's labored breathing.
"Help me! I wanted to undo what those butchers did before Emilee went back," she says as she stumbles to her feet and rushes over to Emilee's side.
Curious, Gunnar follows the spark out of the door and tries to scoop it up before it can escape using whatever bag or empty vial is currently at hand. ”Scram, can you help? I don’t like the idea of an unknown essence sneaking off!” says Gunnar as he moves.
"Raseri! Yes, of course. We shall heal her body." Luthael is so happy to see the Thorsdottir, despite her divine patron.
When he sees the third creature escape, he adds to Gunnar's concerns, "Ingryd, Scram, can you get that creature?"
Ingryd secures her gear and then grabs the halfling."Come on Scram lets go get it" She says as she sits Scram on her shoulder and rushes after it.
The slumbering thief was rudely awaken and thrown onto the back of a massive grizzly bear in search of prisoner inadvertently set free. If only the chaotic gem-toucher had not been so careless, Scram's dreams of dancing, college-aged liver-muppets gone wild would not have been interrupted.
Scram had a few mirrors, maybe she could bounce the light around in a closed loop in order to trap it...?
Raseri and Luthael pour their magical healing into the badly damaged and partially transformed body of the young woman. Initial efforts seem to temporarily stabilize the victim, but they find the challenge in beyond simply closing sword wounds or mending broken bone. The girl's living heart is gone, replaced by a clockwork device along with many of her other organ's. Only some were properly attached to the bodily systems prior to the interruption of the surgical procedure.
But the two healer's are not without their own resources and knowledge of mortal bodies. With the immediate danger pushed back a few minutes and the patient no longer suffering from massive seizures, Luthael and Raseri begin to methodically work their way through the multitude of wounds and half connected systems. Some they manage to simply heal. Others they must complete the connections combining flesh and machine, for no other option exists. Neither have performed such repairs or healing efforts before so they fall back on intuition and their own knowledge of anatomy and internal medicine to try and succeed.
Meanwhile, Gunnar, Scramsax and Ingryd hurry after the fleeing orb of light. Back out in the hall, the trio work to surround the bit of spirit as it hovers in place for several seconds. It's as if the thing is confused or uncertain of where to go. Using the delay, Scramsax pulls out a set of mirrors and hands them to her companions.
The reflective surfaces seem to distract or perhaps frighten the mote of light. It flies toward the doors leading back into the volatile surgical chamber where all of this seemed to begin. Gunnar steps in the way attempting to block the creature with the mirror. Quickly calculating the correct angle to hold the silvered glass, the dwarf sends the mote bouncing back toward Ingryd. The bearkin reflects the spirit to Scramsax who attempts to bounce it back to Gunnar who is already closing the gap.
Unfortunately, the halfling's angle is off by just a few degrees and Gunnar cannot adjust his own mirror quickly enough. The spark of light hits the wizard directly in the eyes. Where it quickly disappears.
Gunnar's arms freeze in place and his jaw goes slack. Suddenly it is as if the flesh and bone is nothing more than an inanimate dwarven scarecrow.
Must get back...must get back...have to find...this will do...get out...get out... GET OUT!
The frantic feminine voice drives through your mind like a knife through butter. But a wizard's mind is no trivial hut offering shelter in a storm. It is a carefully crafted and maintained fortress of disciplined thought and structure capable of harnessing the very powers of creation. So while the initial assault takes you by surprise, there is time to rally and push back against the unwelcome foreign presence.
Raseri tries her best, but between her mangled left arm and her anguish at having caused Emilee more harm, she's an emotional mess, barely able to do even the simple things, much less aid in the complex operation needed to fully heal the young girl.
Trying to project his arcane ward in a way to contain the presence instead of protect it from damage, Gunnar is shocked by the sudden intrusion. He fights back with his trained mind, trying to encapsulate the presence and drive it out of his mind and into an empty container—perhaps the decoy sword container would be sufficiently warded!
Luthael attempts to save the girl but feels like he is attempting swordplay. He's not this kind of cleric.
Scram was ready to stab the visible lightball right in the terahertz...
"Do you think its like with choking and I have to give Gunner a reverse hug?" Ingryd asks nervously unsure what to do.
The ghostly intruder appears no match for Gunnar's disciplined inner mind. Almost as soon as it delves into the wizard's inner sphere it is trapped upon an infinite treadmill of pi calculations and partial differential equations related to the fluid dynamics and viscosity of molten mithril during the forging process.
The invader tries to counter with a series of visuals concerning the anatomy of the common eastern manticore and the internal nerve system diagram for a juvenile beholder. (No one has ever lived long enough to successfully map the nervous system of a fully developed tyrant.) These meager efforts are quickly brushed aside as meaningless druidic drivel as the wizard summons forth the vector fields and accompanying coordinates for the optimal placement for a series of lightning strikes that could collapse this entire portion of the tower's underground complex.
A moment later the entity is wrapped within a simple pythagorean net and forcibly tossed from the wizard's mind space and back into the nebulous uncertainty of the material realm.
Still little more than a shimmering misshapen orb of light and energy Scramsax tries the more direct approach of jabbing her dagger into the entity as soon as it emerges from Gunnar's left nostril.
The light flickers and dashes away from the ice cold blade with the lightning fast speed offered by an orb of light unhindered by such things as having a true physical form or other ties to the material realm. Unfortunately, while the being is clearly able to escape, the mind does not truly realize the nature of its new existence. Still thinking in terms of a bipedal mortal with all of the weaknesses and hindrances of physical flesh, it bounces like a harbor drunk down the hallway and into the intersection.
Seemingly, stunned and confused, it is an easy target for someone who might wish to try grabbing it with one of the sword decoy containers.
Luthael and Raseri are confident they've patched the young woman up as best as possible. That is until she wakens with an ear piercing scream of pain which is thankfully cut short by a series of thrashing seizures and blood flowing from mouth, eyes, ears, and nose. Just before they film over in blood, Raseri sees the girls eyes turn to her. The heart wrenching question of why, stitched upon her pain riddled face.
Her mechanical heart beats with all of the precision of a two year old pounding pots and pans, while her lungs hiss and wheeze more than Luthael's eighty-six year old aunt and holder of the largest tobac plantation in northern Magdar, Lulu Invictusol. Short blades of adamantium slide uncontrolled and silently from flesh and bone sheaths formed from the woman's hands and arms making any attempts to offer comfort or corrective healing quite dangerous.
Given the growing loss of blood, blue tint of her skin and the ominous tick-thump-spurt-tock-tick-clang of her mechanical heart, the poor girl now dreaming of a quite life beneath a crimson sky surrounded by her carved friends and the chuckle of the waterfall spilling into the pool, has only a few more moments to live barring further intervention from her two saviors.
"Nononononono! I'm sorry! I'm sorry," Raseri sobs as she tries to save Emilee. Raseri fights to do what she can, but uncertainty and doubt given voice by the hag and her sisters wrack her mind as everything she does ends in failure. As she spends the last dregs of divinely granted power she has, despair darkens her eyes. She's already broken her promise, and now she is going to fail. She knows that.
But, what if there is something she still has that could save Emilee. The hag had kept her soul from finding peace in the afterlife, could she do something keep Emilee's soul within her? What of stories she's heard, those that speak of men gaining immortal bodies by drinking the blood of the fey. She's well on her way to becoming one herself. Maybe...
Luthael prays to Khors for Guidance and helps Raseri save the girl feeling that she might sacrifice herself to save the girl, which he cannot allow.
Then, he suggests the obvious, "Ingryd, Scramsax, just grab it into a vial or pouch."
As Raseri reaches for Hugrekki. she feels Luthael's hand on her shoulder. Her hands shake as she realizes what she was about to do. She has no intention of killing herself, but desperation had almost lead her into some very rash actions. Her mind clears a little, and the divine guidance from Khors is enough for her to at least keep Emilee alive for the moment.
Leaving the agility drill to Ingryd and Scramsax, Gunnar suggests, "Something opaque, maybe magically warded like the sword box," as he moves over to the struggling girl.
Adding his efforts to the healers, he focuses on the mechanical components, casting "Mending" (or "Skill of the Master Craftsman" as he calls it) on the mechanical systems now critical to her survival.
Watching the unstable unstabbable, Scram hoped it wasn't also unstoppable "...Griz, the honey jar. Give it a taste!"
Ingryd opens a jar and goes to grab it.
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Scramsax and Ingryd manage to corner and trap the wandering spirit in one of the bearkin's empty honey jars before it can slip away. The mote of flickering green light bounces off the honey-lined interior of the jar as it explores the makeshift cage.
Gunnar hurries into the room where the rather ravaged corpse still struggles to survive. Hearing the fouled and offbeat noise of the struggling mechanical heart, the dwarf immediately set about a simple casting to try and remedy the broken device.
Standing on the other side of the dying young woman, Raseri prepares herself for a desperate sacrifice, only to be stopped by the kind and caring hand of Luthael. The prophet of Khors calls upon the guidance of his god and moments later a layer of light illuminates Emilee's body. The overlay begins to flicker and glow with various multicolored trails linking the mechanical heart to living veins and arteries. Nerve bundles are highlighted so that Raseri is able to repair broken junctions along the spine. Another layer of lights point out how the initial effort incorrectly linked the liver to the pancreas while bypassing the kidney's. Working their way through the various anatomical overlays, prophet, priestess, and wizard are able to use their combined healing and mechanical magic's to stabilize and heal the bulk of the girls physical wounds. What mental wounds exist, only time will tell. However, for the moment, her breathing eases, her pulse steadies, and her face and muscles relax into a deep slumbering state allowing everyone to breath a momentary sigh of relief.