With Roren dispatched by the Alemaiden, the ghost knight faces the last brute, the knight captain incorporeal hacks down on the render and rears Voyra to kick it. But, their attacks were ineffective.
As the scion of house Roren dies, so too does the storm in Raseri. Bitter anger, like lye, burns on her tongue and in her heart, but she shoves it aside, forcing herself to focus on what's happening. Her hands pull the battered shield from her back as she fades into the ground. She drops her bow in surprise as she's nearly trampled by Carnadine's horse, and scrambles to get to Lexi's side. She drops to her knees and grabs a hold of the young woman with one arm while her other holds her shield over her head to ward off the render's blows.
"Ekki ennþá, Lexi. Það er ekki þinn tími til að fara til Valhalla ennþá," she mutters before uttering a word of power.
Even as the glow starts to take hold, Raseri tries to take her and Lexi through the fey path she feels right under them.
Deimus waits to see if his magic is needed.
Raseri and Lexi both fade through the ground, and pop up behind the party, though most of them cannot see that.
"C'mon, Shadow," Raseri begs as she pats Lexi on the cheek, "please wake up!"
The young priestess cradles Lexi not sure if she's trying to give comfort, or receive it.
Kjeta watches Raseri and Lexi fade through the road. "HOW DO YOU KEEP DOING THAT?!?"
She takes a drink of ale to clear her head, and then steps forward to try to take down the last remaining foe.
Lexi comes to as Raseri is pulling her through the shadow road.
Looking up, she blushes but says nothing.
With but one enemy left, Hrungnir raised snowcrash and charged into the fray.
Not noticing the blush and just relieved that Lexi is still alive, Raseri wraps her up in a bone-crushing hug.
"Mér þykir þetta svo leitt. Ég mistókst næstum þér aftur."
"I am so sorry. I almost failed you again."
"I don't know what that meant, but thanks for healing me!" Lexi said as she....returned the hug.
The dwarves take their vengeance on the evil stone creature, their magic weapons pulverizing any chance it had at defense. The elemental wails, longing for home and wholly confused.
It seems tired of the effort of fighting and starts to move to the east, then changes its mind and wanders off into the wall...
Hrungnir was *not* in the mood to let it go. With one more mighty swing of snowcrash, he ended his tormentor’s existence. Standing over the ruined form of the stone elemental, he took several deep breaths to compose himself. Finally the dwelf said ”I bloody hate this place!”
The runesman's energies crackle through the semi-conductive stone body of the creature, blasting bits and pieces of rubble skyward as it burrows seamlessly into the wall...
Carnadine will not let the monster go quietly and looks for blood.
Should you choose to search Halycaster, among his regal attire and mundane glaive you find a few items of particular note...
*a strange dagger that whispers elven curse words
*a syringe and 3 vials, 2 of which are filled with a thick liquid varying mirror-like and red
*a yellow diamond that radiates with power
Also on a thin silver strand about his neck (remarkably still there considering his head is quite vaporized and...not there) is a tiny paper mobius strip.
Deimus lets the fight resolve itself. He feels spent and out of tune, and chooses to keep his energy.
When things quiet down, he says: "Tzk. We're still here..."
Deimus, you close your eyes and listen to the eternal song hidden behind the turning rhythms of the multiverse...the grand staff of the moebius strip reveals its secrets to you only teasingly, and only in short bursts. You rub the ash between your forward actuators, scanning the composition and the strangely refilling hand-sized hole it left behind in the road.
After considering a few minutes, you come to a conflicted conclusion consisting of 2 main theories:
1. This region of space has been particularly altered by powerful magics. Something about the ash is actively warping the path within this region of stone. Perhaps escape from this loop lies in the ash...
2. This is a wholly different region of space, akin to the pocket planes, the nearly mythical paradise-in-a-box powerful arcanists are said to employ...after all the creator of such spaces has complete control over its nature. Perhaps escape from this loop lies with the caster...
Raseri doesn't say anything now that the fight is over. She's glad Lexi is alive, but she can't help feeling responsible for her falling in the first place. She couldn't land a single hit on the Master of Roads. Her power ebbs low, with only enough for a single small spell left within her. What could Raseri do if it came to another fight, or if they need food and water? She didn't like thinking on that, and she felt the weight of silver eyes judging her actions as she helps Lexi to her feet.
Lost in her thoughts, She goes around the möbius to collect her weapons. Thinking that the former Master of Roads may have some more starmetal on him, and feeling that she was fast proving useless to the others except for her crafting, she searches the corpse, trying not to look too closely at where his head had been. Not trusting the dagger or the diamond, she picks them up with her cloak to put them in her bag. Then she picks up the necklace, holding it by the chain with a puzzled look on her face.
"The ash... It's gotta be the ash... There is something about this place that is keeping us here. It could be a property of the place. The only thing I can think of is the ash... Otherwise, we're standing in some wizard's creation... Could it be the Sculptor's? Where is he by the way?"
"We should....ummm....go see about our friends." "Not that this isn't nice."
"They seem well enough for now," Raseri says, not having heard any of them cry out in pain. As she studies the necklace, it's clear that something is troubling the Thorsdottir greatly.
Raseri, as you gaze at the little paper moebius strip on the amulet, you sense a certain resonance it shares with the road...as it idly turns one way or another you catch a magic glimmer that gets reflected on the substance of the road itself, as if the paper is coated in a layer of thin ice. You are also somewhat taken aback by how fragile a thing it is, the paper strip...its odd a fighter like the Master of Roads would wear such a vulnerable thing outside his leathers.
Raseri studies the delicate strip, wondering why the Roren scion had worn it outside his leathers or even into battle at all until she comes to the realization that it is likely a component for a spell, the one that brought them to this place most likely. If this place was something like another plane, then perhaps the issue of their finding a safe place to sleep was solved.
She takes off her helm and puts the chain around her neck before starting to stand, but stops as she sees the fallen form. He was a bastard, true, and he ran from her challenge, but was she any different from this fey? She is afraid, terrified. This place has changed Lexi, messing with her mind, and that terrifies her more than anything. Her memories from entering the hag's clutches until waking up in that grove outside of Zobeck are all a blur, images mixing and swirling without any reason to the pattern. She can only recall the details fleetingly, but what if even that is taken from her?
She doesn't dwell on it overly long before the answer comes to her. She would go mad, in all likelihood. She would cease to be. Maybe that would be a blessing? Maybe it is already happening? Maybe the shadows are stripping away the illusions she has held. Perhaps she isn't as capable as she had once believed. Her performance against the Master of Roads seems to indicate that to be the truth. She lets out a sigh, hating herself for feeling this self-pity yet again, but the trap has already sprung. She feels herself mired by doubt and fear. If she could only reach out to her god and receive some answer. He would know. He has to know. He is the one that gives her the power she wields.
She lays the fallen elf out and stands. He may have lead her on a merry chase, but she doubts it was out of fear. He never took her seriously enough for that. With a deep breath, she takes a few more steps back and tries to send him off as a warrior should be, in fire.
Her task done she rejoins the others. She holds up the delicate paper strip by its chain to show them as she explains.
"This was on the Master of Roads. He was wearing it outside of his armor, which I thought strange with how delicate it seems. It seems that this was used to help trap us here, but I do not know how to undo it. However, I believe that we now have a place to rest if those beasts are truly gone."
As Raseri battles her inner tormoil, centuries worth of confused mind and bodies, the eternal truth of her spirit or at least its connection to the entity Thor is undeniable. His minor miracle sparks forth, and what begins as a tiny spark the color of lightning quickly runs across the shadow fey, consuming his flesh rapidly in an ash-less fire.
A thought might linger in those who saw it. What did death really mean here in this Realm? Obviously, undead were no uncommon denizen here. The party after all had witnessed many, including one that came undeniably from Midgard. Was this some boundary world to a greater death that all spirits passed through? If such Shadow was the boundary between life and death, what did it mean to die here? Was this moebius strip existant on or apart from it; perhaps the soul just released had found only an infinite loop on its path to the great beyond. Or was all this just the twisted whims of one called the Goddess of Night and Magic? What then of Thor and Ninkash, who by all appearances kept some power here? How could they ally themselves to such a place?
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Carnadine cleans and sheaths his longsword while walking Voyra toward the headless Roren. The ghost knight swings out of his saddle and walks the last five feet to squat next to the Thorsdottir and the Master of Roads. He lets her loot the valuable while he examines the regal attire. The knight captain corporeal is more interested in a trophy of his defeated foe, twice over. He pulls and tears some fabric from his tunic with symbols that would identify its former owner and tucks into his gear.
Replying to the Thorsdottir, he says, "Then, let's rest. Voyra and I can take first watch. Everyone looks like their ready to fall down."
And then he whispered to the Thorsdottir, "I've a thirst for blood, if you're still interested."
Raseri feels the return of the frustration and uncertainty she was feeling back before they went about learning of the elf gate and the shadow road. It gnaws at her as she feels that something important was just beyond her reach, that she isn't strong enough nor wise enough. If she'd been quicker, then Lexi might not have almost died. She tries to cling to that thread connecting her and her god, but she feels it slipping away as the chaotic storm of half-remembered memories and tumultuous emotions sweep her into the dark pits she had found these recent days, ever since the the fight in the library.
Carnadine's whisper pulls her out of her reverie. She looks to him then the others laying down to sleep. She gives a nod and takes hold of Carnadine's arm.
"Not here," she whispers back to him before pulling him along through the floor.
After they emerge from the floor, as far as they could get from the others, she lets go and steps back. If Carnadine could figure anything out, if he could answer just one question, maybe it would help ease her mind.
Or it could just lead to her having more doubts and more questions.
She pushes that thought aside. Unwise as it may be she doesn't feel she has many options. The spell taught to her by the sluagh, Knucklebones, was still beyond her. She has to know something, anything for certain about herself.
"H-how should I proceed," she asks, unusually uncertain and timid now. Her manner clashes with the mail and weapons she still bears, only her helmet missing from her head.
"Maybe it's the key to get out?" said Lexi as she stood and helped to loot the Master of Roads. Once that was done, she stepped through the road to join the others.
"Maybe, but if it is a key, then how do we put it into the lock?"
"Perhaps we rip the ribbon, but first we reszt, yes?" offers Deimus, now turning his attention to the strange artefact.
Carnadine approaches Raseri closer than ever before, intimately entering her personal space. He brushes her hair exposing the fair skin of her neck. Then, like a viper he bites taking her breath away. The pain was pleasurable.
When the ghost knight had had his fill, the noble dhampir slowly drew away from her but still cradling her to avoid her from falling. Her knees were surprisingly weak, and she felt light-headed. The knight captain incorporeal stepped back and let go when the Thorsdottir got her footing.
Carnadine turns his tongue within his mouth trying to identify the taste. "Tastes mostly human. Similar to the ladies I had a few days ago, but there's something else. Something metallic. Something electric. Hope that helps."
"Now, how do we get back to the others?"
To separate the identifications/attunements, Carnadine takes and studies the magic dagger.
Carnadine, you spend some time admiring the weapon. Its blade almost seems fake, carved out of some ceramic material rather than forged in a fire...but its sharpness is undeniable. It bends the light in a way that causes a rainbow diffraction pattern glimmering across its surface, clearly magical. As your thumb passes over the small emerald in its hilt, you hear a voice enter your consciousness... "Yor'thae..." and the dagger slips from your grip as some hidden compartment spills a black ichor like substance across the edge. You nearly cut yourself, but with some quick thinking you spin your wrist and catch the blade by the hilt in your elbow. Again you pass your hand over the emerald and hear the strange language...this time thinking to activate your magical helm of comprehending. The helmet's soft, feminine voice overlays the blade's harsh whispering, stating clearly "Venom!" a bit too eagerly, yet faithfully translated.
Raseri nods at his suggestion to relax, closing her eyes and waiting. She stiffens as he brushes her hair back, only to go limp as she feels both pain and pleasure course through her. The heady brew leaves her limp in Carnadine's arms for a moment even after he has finished. She resorts to using the wall as support as her head swims and the scenery spins about her. Slowly she slides down wall to sit as she tries to focus on Carnadine's question.
"G-go left or right, the path leads back to them. Or you could find the one through the floor. It is the grey thread, like smoke," she murmurs before lying down and closing her eyes. "Pull it left, then tug thrice."
She giggles after a moment, oddly delirious.
"Could do it again," she mutters, riding high on the euphoria she feels. "Never felt like that before."
"Perhaps we rip the ribbon, but first we reszt, yes?" offers Deimus, now turning his attention to the strange artefact.
[dice=Arcana]1d20+1
"I do not think so. That seems too crude for a fey trick," Raseri answers. "We should rest. Perhaps we shall learn more of it in the morn."
"I'm guessing it's a magical effect that distorts distance." suggests Lexi cheerfully.
"The Fey can teleport, some of the at will, and this is likely an extension of that."
Nearing complete exhaustion, the party chances a rest on the looping ash...surely there were few creatures that might wander into this oddity of space...
But on the 4th watch (), the featureless matte wall boils and churns just adjacent to camp. A bulging head slowly peeking out of the earth...2 amber eyes pop open, with tiny little purple irises scanning over the group...before the watch can even startle, it recedes back into the wall, gone again.
It takes a while for Raseri's heart to stop thundering in her chest after the strange visit from the... whatever in the hells that was!
Carnadine will carry Raseri back to the campsite carefully setting her down next to the others.
After almost poisoning himself, he approaches Lexi when they are both awake. "Considering your profession, I think you should have this. It's a magic dagger of venom. If you press this emerald in the hilt here, it doses the blade with black poison. And there's appears to be a sentience that likes using it."
"However, if you already have a magic weapon, I'll hold on to it, because I do not. Those creatures with Roren were resistant to non-magical weapons. And I imagine, that they are not the only ones."
Hrungnir woke feeling like a new dwelf! Luckily he was still dwarf enough to wear his armor without complaint, even if the full night’s rest did instill the urge to recite bad poetry. Silently he cursed the elven pantheon, and wondered if it was possible to kill a deity.
Deimus, you aren't quite sure what the syringe is, having never seen anything like it...but, it doesn't take long for your mechanically inclined mind to postulate its vacuum properties. The apparatus could draw forth the red-mirror liquid from one vial, and deposit it somewhere else very precisely.
Its tip reminds you of a lance used to puncture boils and for a moment you jest that the syringe could actually inject directly into the vein of a living creature. Perhaps the 2 vials are blood of some sort of fey creature. Then it hits you: Haylcaster's incredible speed...he had injected this essence into himself before the fight. There was only one creature you could think of that moved like that, the legendary quicklings. Quickling blood.
It doesn't take long for Raseri to pass out cold while Carnadine takes her back to the others. Thankfully, her slumber appears to be free of dreams or nightmares, at least not ones that cause her to wake the others.
When the others begin to wake, she spends some time to try communing with Thor, her gnawing doubts whispering to her that he isn't listening even as she feels the wellspring of her power refill. She pushes the thoughts aside, trying to remember Lexi's advice. Once done preparing for the day, she takes a moment to find something else to occupy her time, and she remembers Grinning Glen's Bangles.
She takes a moment to focus on the bangles the leather bracers she wears. Her mind falls into daydreams of just dodging a blow or batting aside a blade at the last moment, if only she weren't weighed down by so much armor.
Raseri knows better. She had been told once she had all of the grace of an ox. Not that she was insulted by the comparison. She knew she could take a hit if needed.
"Ó kjánalegur álfar töfrar, af hverju vinnur þú ekki eins og skynsamlegt væri?"
"Oh silly fey magic, why do you not work as would be sensible?"
Newly attuned to the bangles, she looks to see what the others are up to and pulls the möbius pendant up by its chain from where it was hanging on her chest.
"Hvað með þig, skrítni litla bikar minn? Hvaða leyndarmál geymir þú?"
"What of you, my strange little trophy? What secrets do you hold?"
As the group slolwy emerges from their rest, Deimus is hard at work assembling his portable espresso machine. After a lot of clinking and banging, you hear a roar, then a hiss, and Deimus comes over one of you with a tiny cup and watch your expression with his blank metallic face as you drink. This is followed by another roar and a hiss, and another tiny cup, and so on.
Satisfied, he withdraws to study the syringe. An hour or so later...
"Tzk!" goes Deimus as he suddenly realizes what the syringe is for.
He gets up and walks over to the others: "This is quite szurprising. It has mechanical parts, like so, you pull and push, you see, and a vacuum is created in the glass chamber as you pull, which in turn sucks the air in, then out when you push this rod, which plunges into the glass chamber, the air is pushed out..."
"What is amazing, is that the needle attached to the plunger is so small you can prick it into one of your veins. So, in theory, you could pull a liquid from a vial, and we have too that were with the syringe, and push the liquid into someone's veinsz!"
"I think that's what the Maszter of Roads did, and I think this is Quickling blood, which is why he was so fast!"
"Since its blood, I'm guessing it has to be introduced that way, but for Carnadine, I suspect he can just drink it. Perhaps we can find other types of blood and experiment, or perhaps there is a way to tinker with that plunger..." and he walks off, lost now in a new tinkering project.