Flint searches the nullspace chamber for any left over medicinals that might be of use as well.
You find no medicinals across the rooms but Bel suspects a sip from the cauldron could help to heal the hag enough to rouse her.
Flint moves to help the hag, already dreading the discussion to come.
You lift the elderly hag and find her surprisingly light for her size. Bel estimates she could easily do it alone. She is however completely slack in your arms, the mindhaze clearly having robbed her of even the slightest faculties.
The vial glows with light as Bel fills it. When she pours it down the limp hag's throat that same light seems to fill the hag from within. It takes a few minutes for the light to subside and the hag to begin to stir. She keeps her eyes closed and probes about weakly with her hands "What is... where... hrmmm." She mutters to herself.
Kneeling down, Ordyt carefully doesn't touch the hag in an effort to avoid startling her and speaks in a low soothing voice.
"Old Nanite, can you hear me? We're the intruders you contacted telepathically. We found you unconscious in your room, drugged. Do you remember what happened?"
Flint says and thinks to her, ”I am here.. Please tell us what happened.”
Old Nanite groans but eventually manages to gather herself "The little rascals who were gathering the cloaks? Ah, the rotten efreeti woman found out that we were chatting. That drug she uses, it's not one of my favorites. And she isn't even kind enough to mix it into my tea like a proper hospitable jailor." She peels her eyes partway open and glances around "But you're here and she isn't. You finally killed her then? It's past time. Both for her to be cut to a thousand painful little pieces, and for us to be leaving this place."
”Unfortunately, no. She disguised herself and fooled me into giving her the cloaks. Then she made your sisters attack us and jumped into the cauldron to escape. I would go after her, kill her, and return your robes if I knew how to follow her and survive in the plasma,” says Flint contritely.
"We can't chase them into the heart of the star without your ritual. Without that, Nurleth will get away with everything she's done to you and to us. With it, we can finally kill her and shatter everything she's worked for into dust."
”Yes, please help us atone for my error,” adds Flint.
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Belmarniss' grimace sours even further as Ordyt and Flint confess what happened so openly. Honesty was a virtue Iomedae and Sarenrae shared, but discretion was the better part of valor for a reason.
There's no way she'll help us now, even IF she doesn't attack us in blind rage, she thinks to herself.
Old Nanite snaps to full alertness as you explain the situation in just a few words. "You WHAT? You LOST the cloaks? AND FOUGHT MY SISTERS!?" Angry black smoke, dense with stardust, drifts from her nose and ears as your words sink in. "You imbeciles! You absolute peabrained children! I should turn you all to- to-"
She's left panting, still under the lingering effects of the poison. Either your diplomatic approach or her own weakened state however seem to keep her from fulfilling that half-formed idea. She calms herself enough to say "I offer my aid and this is how you repay me? Where are my sisters now?"
”They are in the main room here where they fell. Can the power of your cauldron revive them?” says Flint, helping the hag shift to see her fallen sisters, ”We did not wish to fight them, but they gave us no choice.”
"We begged them to see reason, but they followed Nurleth's command instead. We take responsibility for our actions, but Nurleth is the one who pitted us against each other and who has enslaved you and your sisters. I understand if you hate us, but without that ritual--Nurleth wins."
Old Nanite surges to her feet and rushes around the elevator, only to see the scattered dust where her sisters once were. She stands still for a moment, then begins cackling, then hacking and wheezing. Soon there's a mad riot of laughter from her. Eventually she turns "You mock me. First you took my hope. Then you took my sisters." She sneers "You did not wish to fight them' but you certainly didn't show any restraint! HA!"
She eases herself down and sits on the floor cross-legged, her mad mirth slowly ebbing. She stares at the scattered dust and thinks.
It's a few minutes later that she finally says "Fine then. It seems I can't kill you myself, so you might as well go and die to the efreeti. You want the ritual we gave to the others? You will need to work for it. Now that my sisters are gone, it will not be done without two more to play their part."
Ordyt nods. As we good as we we're going to get.
"What do you need us to do?"
"You may not have their magic, but you can still play their role in the ritual, if you or someone you trust understands the steps." Old Nanite explains the steps in the ritual, omitting enough details regarding her own actions that you suspect it would be very difficult to recreate it on your own. It seems it will be challenging to undertake.
”Just tell me where you need me,” offers Flint.
Having descended by this point with Sammad and Mari, Uzmat nods "OF COURSE. IT WOULD BE MY HONOR TO WEAVE THE PROTECTIONS YOU NEED, EVEN IF THEIR MEANS IS A LITTLE UNCONVENTIONAL."
"Alright, let's get this done. The less time the Legion has to complete their Wishing Engine, the better. Captain, are you comfortable accepting the ritual first?"
”Yes, Ordyt, thank you,” says Flint.
A dark force builds through you three, passed from person to person and building with each pass. Soon its a raging torrent, taking your full force of Will to keep it under control. Ordyt almost lets his concentration slip, but a Uzmat's steady control keeps the ritual going.
Old Nanite suddenly snaps the force out of its cycle and sends it careening toward Flint. He's drowned in the icy current as all light drains from the room. For a long minute, burbling mutterings from Old Nanite and the icy cold are all that surround you, and then the dark recedes.
Flint is left feeling unpleasantly leaden and when he breathes out, his breath is a black fog filled with stardust. Other than these disconcerting effects, it seems the ritual was effective.
Rolling his shoulders and neck to shake off the feeling of the void-magic, Ordyt takes up his position and begins the ritual again.
Icy cold shocks your bodies and saps away your vitality, but thankfully it recedes before it can still your hearts.
Though there were some side effects, you can see the ritual was successful for Bel as well. Black, star-filled smoke bleeds from her mouth and nose. Ordyt on the other hand is left dazed...
Uzmat nods "YES, IT APPEARS ORDYT IS IN NEED OF REST."
Ordyt cedes his place in the circle, breathing hard and eyes wide. "I'm a servant of the sun...that magic is, it's--I don't know. Anathema."
Much like Bel, although the ritual didn't go entirely to plan, Ordyt finds himself reinforced in the same way as his two allies.
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Belmarniss grits her teeth and powers through the touch of the cold void. It was unnervingly familiar to her, taking her back to the time before she was a Star-Knight, back when she'd first felt the sting of betrayal and was sure she'd die alone on Apostae's surface. She tries to banish the memories from her mind, but they start blending with other, more recent ones, the dark visions and whispers she exposed herself to again and again and again in Ezorod, and finally it's too much for her.
She pulls away and crouches down, trying to warm her core and make herself as small as possible.
"Iomedae is with me, her swordlight warms me, her shield shelters me," she mutters repeatedly, chanting it like a mantra until she calms down enough to stand back up.
"Should we...stop to heal ourselves? This has been taking a lot out of us, and we need to be in peak form if we expect to win."
She pointedly avoids suggesting use of the Fivefold Cauldron's powers to do so. Miraculous though they were, she felt they'd asked enough of Old Nanite at this point, and she doubted they were endearing themselves to her with their barely competent performances of her ritual.
"Let's contact our allies and see how close the Legion reinforcements are," says Flint, "Though I agree with Belmarniss--we definitely need to catch our breath before moving on."
Taking a brief breather from the grueling rituals, you attempt to get in contact with Rikard and your other rescuees back at the ship. Worryingly, they don't immediately respond, though when they do it becomes clear that they've not had a great time. The weathered veteran you rescued from captivity on the Crucible - Astino - is the one to "pick up". He whispers to you the current status.
It seems the ships garrisoned around the Crucible had managed to recover their power. They'd come into the bubble afterward and one of them docked in the same bay as the Torrent. Astino describes seeing that the ship was significantly damaged from the exterior, though he has no idea what might have caused it. Nevertheless, the contingent of soldiers aboard had disembarked. Only quick action from Astino and Rikard had gotten the injured and non-combatants off the Torrent and into the interior of the Crucible without getting captured. From the sounds of things, they're currently hiding in a section of the officers quarters that they'd locked.
From their description, the floors above must now be crawling with soldiers - but without an appropriate orichalcum rod they must not be able to descend down to the nadir of the Crucible where you currently are located.
"S@*%. S~$#." Ordyt snarls to himself as he considers the report from Astino. "We're almost out of time, if their ships are operational again then we can't afford more delays." He looks up questioningly at the others.
"If Uzmat's abilities will let him accompany us, and if he is willing, then are the four of us enough to finish the job?"
Flint responds, ”I don’t think we have a choice, Ordyt. Mari, Sammad, see what you can do with your computer and misdirection expertise to confound and confuse the returning Legion groups to keep our people safe and hidden. You are also welcome to try the ritual and come after us if you want, but we can wait no longer to send in us as the first wave.”
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Belmarniss bows her head.
"This is it, then."
She turns to Marisol.
"It's been an honor to work with you, Marisol. I'd almost go so far to say you're a better tech than me. You've been like an extra sister to me, and a better one than the biological siblings I do have. Thank you."
She offers the mechanic a hug, and then addresses Sammad.
"When I joined you on the initial trip to the Archipelago, I couldn't have imagined how deep it would take us. You've kept us going when things got dark, and for that I couldn't be more grateful. Once this is over I expect you'll have people flooding you with business offers. Even from House Rycast, whether I live or die."
She offers him a hug too and then turns to Ordyt and Flint.
"I couldn't ask for two better brothers-in-arms than you two. Let's show the Malikah's army what a real blaze of glory looks like. Victory or death!"
”We’re counting on you to keep the path clear for our return and protect our people up there,” says Flint to Mari and Sammad.
”When we get back, drinks are on me,” he adds with a smile to Ordyt.
To Belmarniss, he says, ”For Victory. For the Heart!”
Without further hesitation, Flint strides forward to the strange portal that will take them to the heart of the Wishing Engine.
Oryt takes in a slow, deep breath, holding a moment before releasing it. "For the Archipelago, and Noma, and Khallanal. To make our star free of tyranny by the Legion or any other."
He turns to follow his captain.
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Faced with pressure from above, you ready to split your group once more. Uzmat nods at the suggestion to descend with the rest of you, intoning "WE WILL FIND THE ONE BEHIND THESE INJUSTICES THERE, YES? THEN I WILL GO.". Meanwhile, Sammad and Mari are at first a little reticent to leave you to descend on your own. It's only after further discussion, and some frank consideration of the chances the civilians up above have of remaining secret, that they concede that neither task can be left unaddressed.
Mari hefts her breaching gun and adds "Right, time to show them just how dangerous we are."
Sammad chuckles as you each offer your determined calls for victory or death "I wouldn't be so quick on that. I for one plan to still make my way out of this whole endeavor, to turn the wonders these tyrants have made into something that can benefit the rest of us - the Archipelago, and the Collective as well."
Ilor grins "You'll all do just fine. No sense being grim about it. And we'll keep the folks topside safe until you're done."
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With that, the three of them head back up the elevator, ready to tackle the Legion's reinforcements. As for yourselves, there's only the pool and the descent to the core left. Old Nanite snickers as you ready to head in "Brave, bold words. But we sisters were not captured and pressed into service by weaklings. The General is a fearsome figure. There is death ahead of you. Death you've certainly earned." She snaps a single dry laugh and then returns to her room filled with electronic equipment, easing herself back into her chair. Despite the acid in her words, as she leans back her expression is one of weary sorrow. An elderly woman now alone in the world.
In the central room you approach the pool after a brief rest. The surface shimmers with white and silver light. Once you go in, who knows if there will be any easy way out...
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Returning the kiss enthusiastically, Flint continues on the (probably) suicide mission with a smile on his face.
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No regrets, you steel yourselves one last time and leap into the pool.
The gossamer surface yields without a splash, and soon you're falling, tumbling, swept by the magical current that connects this place with another far below. As you fall, the silver is at first a glimmering caress, sweeping you comfortably onward. But before long it begins pressing in, and the current grows more and turbulent, throwing you about with unwelcome lurches and swings. Abruptly it is no more. You fall free for no more than a few feet before you touch down upon something firm.
You find yourselves surrounded by a terrible weight of light and fire, blinding beyond reason, and threatening to mercilessly crush you in the space between moments. The cold void within you spills out, meeting the radiance, clashing with it. In that clash they prove evenly matched, if only barely. The dark sheathe holds just at the very edge of your forms, vibrating. It flows up to your eyes, your mouth, coating, balancing out the infinite force here at the core.
You blink. You can see the outline of a path ahead. It appears as though constructed of pure semi-opaque force. Behind you, a thin string of silver is all that indicates the presence of the pool's magic. White light swallows almost all the rest of your surroundings, but as you strain your void-adapted eyes, you begin to make out what lies further afield.
Blue-white lines of force trace the shapes of an elegant plaza with a monument in its center, held up by spokes in a star pattern. Crowning that 20 foot tall monument is a large force-construct sculpture of an imperious efreeti woman in flowing robe. Elegant benches ring the outer edge of the plaza. Lining the approaches to the plaza are the force-construct forms of elaborate braziers. Some of these braziers seem to be free-floating, not attached to the rest. The force feels firm underfoot, but to the eyes it seems as though you're walking on a ghostly version of the real place.
At the far edge of the plaza lies a massive brass egg, its surface etched with myriad lines of circuitry. Tethers of gold, dark against the white backdrop of the sun, stretch from the egg even further beyond, to an array of what must be almost a hundred dark, humanoid shapes floating in the distance. What catches your more immediate attention is that the plaza is not empty. Four large, burly, white-bearded efreeti in resplendent brass and crimson armor are currently watching the egg as it continues its inscrutable task. They turn almost in unison moments after you arrive and you can see that they appear to be almost exact duplicates of one another.
The one furthest to your right speaks, his voice warm and pleasant despite his intimidating appearance. "I've heard what you've done. The persistent warriors of the Archipelago. Explorers, researchers, the ones who spread death and destruction in their wake." He shakes his head "That you are here means my subordinate's supposition regarding the hags was false. A small error, and one I will not judge her too harshly for. You have far exceeded our preparations before, so I did not doubt you would do so again. I would offer my commendations if we were not enemies."
"Still, you are here to interfere with my dear Malikah claiming her birthright, and that is something I simply cannot stand for. Nor can I ignore the many you sent to the Boneyard, all of them precious to me, all of them now lost." He speaks with determination "Why have you done this, why do you persist?"