Szasa, either the Mythal's haze or the grogginess of proximity to the forces of Kyuss blunt the typical sharp edge of your arcane prowess. One thing is certain though, whatever powers the holy symbols once commanded are now on their last gasps...the rod seems of much greater significance at this point in time.
With a bit of concentration, riding the Weave with your gut instincts, you convince yourself that the rod is genuinely giving an aura of safety rather than any kind of mind affecting enchantment. Its craftsmanship unsurprisingly resembles that of the Ancient Netherese, by appearance anyways.
"So it seems like we have two options here: 1) we can release whatever is in there and kill it, or 2) we can try to reinforce the wards and hope they hold another century or two. As you may have guessed, I'm all for the former, but not for the reason you think; if we leave it here, the Thayans WILL release it. If necessary, I can prove it, but it would take a moment to dig out."
"Opening that thing seems to be a worse idea than touching Falko's thighs. Unfortunately, it appears more of a WHEN that door with break than an IF."
"However, even if the Thayans wanted to release it, maybe they could not. Maybe they needed others, more altruistic-intended, to open it. It wouldn't be the first time that they have used that tactic on adventurers, even legendary ones."
Not wanting to be caught in the inevitable wave of worms that will burst forth from the doors once the rod is removed, Tarn spider climbs up the side of the walls where he waits with his back resting against the vibrating surface.
"I'm not sure thinking more about facing an ancient god of undeath is going to be very beneficial to our peace of mind." Tarn shouts over the growing noise. "This seems more like a situation where charging in and killing anything that moves as quickly and completely as possible grants the only real possibility of survival. We know there'll be acid. We know there'll be worms...lots of worms. We know there'll be more of those wormanoids who'll make even more worms and acid. And we hope there isn't a really pissed on god of evil who's been locked up for several thousand years....but there probably is."
He points to the rod and smirks. "At the very least, that'll be good for smashing worms, so if no one wants to, I'll be the one to pull it free." He starts walking along the wall toward the rod and doors.
"Give me a couple of moments first. I need to recharge some of my magic."
"For those of you who are still wounded, I've 10 Goodberries tat you can split." Finlogan offers and give Szasa his pouchful.
If they're ready to commit suicide, the hierophant would cast Barkskin using his Staff of the Woodlands. The Wildshape into a Fire Elemental.
Having recovered what magic she could, she walked over and touched Falko, giving both of them flight.
"Here, this should help avoid at least some of them. As soon as you open it, get clear and I'll start shooting magic into the area to help clear up the swarms."
As Falko eats 10 days worth of food, the doors budge slightly, but don't open. The black rod is effectively holding them shut. However, you can see it slightly wobbling in the handles...not an immovable rod but more of a mundane barricade. Still, there is something special about the rod, a magical aura of comfort.
Tarn walks along the wall avoiding the worm slurry and the flaring holy symbols. He can't help but puzzle over the rod and the odd feeling that comes over him as he stares at it. It's like sitting on the balcony overlooking the river, holding hands with Khadi as the sunsets across the distant desert hills. The frogs and crickets filling the still warm air with their evening concert.
With thoughts of home, comfort, and the princess he really did love in his mind he reaches out and grabs the rod, ready to pull it from the door.
Tarn, touching the rod seems to unleash some pent up arcanum that had been twisting around the thing for 1000 years. The item speaks to you immediately, but not with any sentience...rather it seems innately built to share itself with you, or perhaps it has become so bored sitting here it just can't wait to talk. Either way, you realize instantly that this item is a Rod of Security, requiring no attunement to use and with the following effects:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While holding this rod, you can use an action to activate it. The rod then instantly transports you and up to 199 other willing creatures you can see to a paradise that exists in an extraplanar space. You choose the form that the paradise takes. It could be a tranquil garden, lovely glade, cheery tavern, immense palace, tropical island, fantastic carnival, or whatever else you can imagine. Regardless of its nature, the paradise contains enough water and food to sustain its visitors. Everything else that can be interacted with inside the extraplanar space can exist only there. For example, a flower picked from a garden in the paradise disappears if it is taken outside the extraplanar space.
For each hour spent in the paradise, a visitor regains hit points as if it had spent 1 Hit Die. Also, creatures don't age while in the paradise, although time passes normally. Visitors can remain in the paradise for up to 200 days divided by the number of creatures present (round down).
When the time runs out or you use an action to end it, all visitors reappear in the location they occupied when you activated the rod, or an unoccupied space nearest that location. The rod can't be used again until ten days have passed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
All of this sudden realization seems to play out in slow motion however, as the slightest touch on the rod also frees it from its servitude as makeshift barricade -- the doors and their shambles-for-wards shatter into glitterdust revealing terror beyond imagination.
Dozens of humanoid figures are arrayed in a loose circle around a massive crystalline pillar, and inside can be seen a thick fleshy mass that flails against the side. Each impact causes a tremendous shuddering *thump* to tear through this place, vibrating your eyes and catching your breath. The figures are deep in a chant and appear to be focused on their task.
The ground between the newly-opened doors and this crystalline pillar is a living undulating carpet of worms. Green, brown, black, and altogether slimy and slick with gore, these creatures pulse and undulate in time with the thumping of the creature trapped in the crystal.
And at once, a group of those humanoids turns to face you, their hoods pulled up and over their faces. It's clear these are similar if not the same walking worm spawns you fought in the laboratory earlier. And the angry pinpricks of red light where their eyes should be indicates that they are not pleased to see you here...
Inits:
Seeing the Writhing Battery for the first time breaches the normal walls of your sanity...twisting your psyche in directions normally locked tight by rationality.
The sight of the immortal terrorizes Finlogan. If he could relieve himself at the moment, he probably would have. As it is, he illuminated the area as a living bonfire.
WIS Save
"No! You shall not continue to exist".
The shocking horror of the scene before him causes Tarn's heart to skip a beat...well several beats if truth be told. But before his body freezes up entirely, the goblin feels the steadfast presence of Daryl and his faith standing at his side. Tapping into the paladin's aura of confidence and strength, Tarn stands firm.
The slick pulsating worm inside the crystal slaps against the inside once, and the advancing worm-men double in worm-mass, spilling forth into familar yet disgusting swarms. They all shamble forward to meet you...to greet you, really. Soon enough you will all be one of them...
Lair actions. Mythal effects. Initiative 1 action.
Lindaer, as you unstopper the potion you realize its been completely dehyrated and is instead a kind of chemical jerky...like a chewy fruit bar or such. You manage to choke it down, but somehow it doesn't seem so effective...
Not wishing to be focal point of the oncoming hoard of charging wormanoids, Tarn takes a quick step back and behind Daryl. Drawing his rapier, he waits for the slimy worm creatures to move forward.
"Boy, I really wish we all had resistance to dissolving worm juice or some other way to blunt the danger from these creatures right about now." The goblin says as he leans back and forth on his toes, ready to duck away from the first waves of the nasty worm bile.
So does Daryl's "Aura of Courage" not eliminate the Frightened condition?
Feeling unafraid of the immortal within the divine faith of Daryl, the large fire elemental advances. He avoids burning his companions and stops within the limit of the aura of faith.
Daryl floats up 5' off the ground, and activates his Shield of Faith again. He'll try to keep as many of his friends protected by the power of Enlil as possible throughout the combat.
A shimmering sphere of force materializes between the front most wormanoids, halting their advance entirely.
As she shakes off her ennui, Szasa begins entoning the chant to her most powerful destructive spell and soon portals open in the roof that allows for meteors to rain through.
Darkness beyond twilight;
Crimson beyond the blood that flows;
Buried in the sands of time is where our power grows.
Let all the fools who stand before us;
Be destroyed by the power that you and I possess!
METEOR SWARM!
Swarm = s, Walker = w
Upper left
Upper right
Lower left (top middle bottom)
Lower right (top middle bottom)
Walkers: (fire resistance)
Upper Left
Yellow -88
Purple -74
Black (bead of force)
Upper Right
White (bead of force)
Green -114
Red -114
Lower Left
Top -116
Middle -116
Bottom -116
Lower Right
Top -104
Middle -104
Bottom -104
Swarms:
Total Damage Taken:
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"What does it mean, dad?" the little boy asked curiously, gazing over his father's polished rocks. The man was an oryctomancer, a diviner who looked at the fissures and patterns of cut slices of minerals to predict the future.
The man was astonished and somewhat in awe "Its most simple interpretation is a clashing of great powers. This line symbolizes 'storm'...this one 'decay'. But 'storm' gets modified by this pattern here, and could just as well mean 'catastrophe'. Meanwhile decay is augmented by this mirror image...'serpent'...no wait, lower...'worm'."
"That doesn't make sense, how can storm battle decay? Aren't they sort of the same thing?" the boy innocently probed.
The father chuckled "It's true, this one is quite vague. Its usually better to spend time with samples whose meaning is more obvious...we can learn more that way. Let's just move on."
Yet the boy was stubborn and defiant, and would later pocket the unusual mineral cuttings and their message across time. He would spend a lifetime trying to interpret the prophecy, but would die never realizing the magnificence of Szasa in her battle with the Spawn of Kyuss, when the shower of arcane wrath would so turn the tide in humanity's struggle against the coming Age of Worms.
That man could have kept this hope...with this missing piece the later sages would see only darkness.