Gracie stands at the edge of the group, looking around, staying alert.
Eoten listens to his fellow titan's perfectly sound stratagem, acknowledging it with a nod and brick toothed smile.
When Silver Tiger urges caution, the brute casts a jaundiced eye down toward him;
healde = hold
gæst = breath
Seolfor = Silver
The giant advances purposefully toward the mirror...
Eoten moves forward unchallenged toward the mirror. Standing directly in front of it, he sees no reflection of himself or his companions, only the room behind him.
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'Right behind ya, boyo," The Dunwich Horror says, a bit impatiently, ready to follow the Large Vanguard (a nickname for Eoten he came up with just now) into the mirror.
"And don't sweat all the things, Tiger-baby. Chicky baby's an' all her sycophants gotta breath to, amirtie? Don't give the enemy more credit 'n is due.
Unless yer a satyr named Marsyas. In which case, just go back to bed."
Eoten pushes forward, meaty fists balled, beady eyes alert for threats and nostrils flaring for the heady scent of blood...
Action: None • Range: Personal Duration: Permanent • Cost: 1 point per rank
Power Effect: Accurate [2 ranks]; Acute [1 rank]; Counters Illusion [2 Ranks]; Detect (Blood) [2 ranks]; Extended [1 rank]; Radius [1 rank] & Tracking [1 rank]. Extra: Innate [+1PP] Flaw: Limited (Blood only) [-10PP]. [1PP]
Eoten pushes into the surface of the mirror, which clings to him like a mercurial liquid. He pushes through, feeling only a slight resistance. Beyond the mirror is a room exactly like the one he left, though the candles cast a warm light and the room smells slightly of honey and lavender, and then, suddenly, of sulphur. Up above, in the height of the vault, several gargoyles move, spreading their wings and dropping down to greet the giant.
And behind him, a whiff of blood that isn't quite human.
There, where the door into the throne room had been, there is now a chapel. A raven-haired woman in green robes-Una herself-sits among the pillows, her eyes shut in deep meditation.
At the chamber’s far end, where grand double-doors should stand, instead lies a pillow-lined chapel. A raven-haired woman in green robes—Una—sits among the pillows, her eyes shut in deep meditation.
Grace
Sinclair
Silver Tiger
Hypnotist
Dunwich
Deadman
Demons
Eoten
Una
Grace summons her armor and moves toward Dunwich.
"Well, if there is no air I will be sure to carry word back to the mortal realm of our failure." Deadman shrugs, then leaps through the mirror portal.
Sinclair moves toward the mirror letting the eager fighters to lead. He double checks his protection.
Silver Tiger follows the others through the mirror, still hiding.
The Hypnotist summons all the colors of the dreamtime around him, saturating him in rich hues, some of colors never seen before. He steps aboard his flight disc and leans into the mirror, eyes a-glow, ready for what may come.
"Oi, 'Once more into the breach' and allat! Let's get this sheila."
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The man sized demons show their surprise at the flood of assailants who pour through the mirror, but they continue their assault, slashing with claws on twisted hands and feet.
Eoten lumbers through, then stands savoring whatever hemo-scent he gets a whiff of.
His malicious grin turns to a scowl as he's beset upon a pair of demonic runts;
lýtling = little one, trifling
démon = demon
scearp = sharp
clawu = claw
The ancient brute duly swings a meaty arm at the demon that drew blood...
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Eoten smashes the demon from out of the air. As it slams into the ground below, it dissolves into a thick translucent fluid.
Una remains in her meditative state.
Seven flies toward Una, "You guys handle the demons, I've got Una. THE BANDS OF BAL'HEMOTH BIND YOU!"
Again the lightning webs fly from her hands, but as they reach Una, they seem to wrap around a protective globe, and as it flickers violet, the yellow energy of Seven's spell fades away.
Grace
Sinclair
Silver Tiger
Hypnotist
Dunwich
Deadman
Fearless, the young mage stows his lack of confidence deep down and steps forward. "Let loose the Mighty Missiles of Melf!" commands Sinclair drawing down on one of the demons with his gesturing hands.
Green missiles fly from near the mage's hands toward the demon who dodges with a sneer.
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Seeing the Large Vanguard's sudden success against the enemy ranks, Briareus vows to not be outdone and reverts back to the attack sequence that he was using before in the village.
Three hands snake out at minions, each with violence on their mind.
Each fist slams true.
One Demon takes the blow in his guard and is little phased. Alas his defense only makes for a good handhold to grab upon.
An elastic arm tries wraps around him, but he spins away.
Grace summons Calesvol and charges the demon before her.
Dunwich Horror's fists punch through two of the demons.
Calesvol slices through the creature of darkness with its pure light.
Only one remains.
Eoten sniffs, then licks the demonic slime from his fist.
The brute's lip curls at the ichor's bitter flavour;
cun = know
ne = not
blod = blood
scitte = diarrhoea
Ignoring the remaining demon, the giant lumbers forward towards where Una and Seven standoff...
Silver Tiger cracks his knuckles moves next to the demon, Smashing his fist into the creature.
The demon's claw rips against the fibers of the dreamtime that stretchs across The Hypnotists body. Luckily for Mac, flesh was not broken, but beneath the weave, he can feel the pain dully burn at him.
"Now yer a Foul demon!" he laughs as his eyes become a portal from the realm of dreams. Bolts dreamstuff stream towards his assailaint.
The small fry being handled handily, the Deadman leaps to action against the greater threat: Una.
"You magic types usually aren't as good in hand to hand. Maybe you'll surprise me?" he says, bring his axe down on Una.
As the Hypnotist's bolt drills through the torso of the powerful demon, Gylfir leaps across the room. His axe cracks Una's protective dome, violet energy flying like broken glass around the room before it dissolves into flame and vanishes.
His axe continues its stroke, catching her between neck and shoulder and slicing deeply. He body shatters like pottery and her head bounces across the floor before coming to rest on its side, staring at all of you.
"“So, the Master Mage and her minions skulk into my bedchambers to slay me like a thief in the night. Truly the hero.” Though the figure’s mouth moves, Una’s voice booms from every corner of the room.
“You’re too late. While you played in my garden, I strolled into Earth. Without a Master Mage there, it was mine from the moment my feet graced her soil. You failed. Everything Adrian spent his lifetime protecting... you betrayed in... how many days? Oh, but you left such a thoughtfully prepared gift for me, how could I not return the favor? My Adytum—my sacred place—only respects courage and power.” The clay melts like snow, revealing a simple iron dagger. “The only way to leave is through sacrifice. If you want to come take your little world back, well... I fear not all of you can make the trip!”
Her voice echoes through the vaulted ceiling, gradually fading. The scattered parts of her body melt away.
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Grace's mind whirls, and if either despair or hope have not yet settled in her heart, it's only because she's not sure whether to even believe what she says.
She looks at Seven, eyes shifting between imploring, baffled, outraged, hurt. "Is that true? Did you ask us to come here, only to leave Earth unprotected? Can you tell if she really did that, went to Earth, took it over? And the sacrifice, is what she's saying true or is that the only way back?" Several realities start crashing in on her thoughts even as she asks for confirmation.
She swallows, but sensing there may be about to be several aiming to get the weapon, moves quickly toward the dagger. "I mean, if it is, it's got to be me, right? I'm the only mere mortal here." She shows no hesitation in moving toward it--she only wants to be sure it won't be a wasteful action. "I mean, before we get into it, here's the thing: only an honorable knight can wield the sword. If I let someone else die, then I'm not an honorable knight, and I lose the sword. I'd do this even if I could keep my power, but this is how it is: I either die because it's the right thing to do, and all of you who are mythical creatures or who can bend reality with your minds... you get to go and save the world. Or I don't die because I failed to protect the rest of you when I had a choice, then I lose my powers and I'm useless to you anyway. So you'd best be damned sure what she is saying is true, because that'll be how it has to be."
Eoten listens, then balefully eyes the simple blade, before gesturing towards Good Knight with a meaty hand to stop;
Dryhtné = Dead Warrior
wilcuma = welcome
ende = end
The brute tips his shaggy head towards Deadman as he speaks.
Gylfir inclines his head as well.
"The jotunn speaks truth. Surely there is no dishonor in allowing one who is willing, even glad to take the fall to do so. By my peoples' beliefs, it would be dishonorable to steal this chance from me."
Gylfir thinks for a moment.
"Assuming the blade would be sufficient to slay me. Nothing else has worked so far." he looks quizzically at Seven, picking up the dagger and taking a lick of it.
Sinclair listens to several people ready to die to return to Earth. "Seven, what kind of sacrifice would we need a life or blood? While we're here we should look for Eldritch."
Seven floats down to the stone, her cloak billowing. She scans your surroundings as she thinks.
"It appears that Una has indeed led us into a trap, Good Knight. I cannot see beyond its boundaries at the moment, so she may well be rampaging across Earth. But we will return there and drive her from our dimension once and for all. This is some sort of pocket dimension, and there is death magic woven into the walls. Before anyone thinks of taking her advice and sacrificing themselves or anyone else, let us explore other options. We are much knowledge and many abilities in this room. Something we know, or something we can do, will allow us to escape."
"I've got no deathwish. I want to go home, to my friend and my parents. But I'm just saying what might need to be done. If you can find another way out of here, fine by me."
She looks around. "Likewise, if a 'sacrifice' means something else... I doubt a little blood'd be enough. I don't think Una'd be happy with just that. She wants to do harm and want that harm to play headgames with anyone alive to witness it." She shakes her head. She swings her blade against the wall. Excalibur in the myths could cut through anything. She was unsure of this application however.
"Let's just jam our noggins together and figure this one out, bloodshed-free. Now, lemme have a peek at it 'ere if ya don't mind."
Mac's eyes glaze over with a deep purple hue as he attempts to extend his senses into the dreamtime.
Silver Tiger stealths over, picks up the dagger, and stabs himself.
Calesvol chips a flake of dark stone from the fitted stones of the wall, but doesn't cut cleanly through it.
The Adytum is quite tidy and well organized. The walls are lined with shelves full of books, there are scrolls in something like old fashioned mail sorters. There are oil lamps, wands, staves, rings in boxes, and all manner of unique items.
The walls are real, the carpet is real. There are no exits apparent or hidden that you can detect.
"Seems my connection to the Dreamtime, for the first time since I can remember, is severed." Macallah paces around the room, scanning over possible tools while he strokes his beard and plots. He stops at the scrolls and calls out to the young mage. "Sinclair wouldja give these scrolls here a lookover?" He continues pacing, stopping at the mirror behind the Throne. He looks back at the others. Deadman with the dagger, Silver Tiger (getting suspiciously close to the Deadman), the two Giants (Mr. Many-Hands and Mr. Always-Hungry), and then stopping at the Good Knight. Think think think... We've got the tools and the power, we just need the know-how. An idea hits him. He chuckles to himself, releasing a deep bellied laugh.
" Oi, I've got a bit of a hare-brained 'un! Gracie, that Calesvol of yours...'Scalabur, yeah? I heard 'Scalabur can pierce through anythin'! Let's see if that holds up. Now, that mirror seems to be the portal in. If it's currently got us locked in here, I wonder... If I focus my energies into the portal, and if Sinclair can muck it up with his brand of magic, and if you pierce through the mirror itself... could we potentially use the mirror to open a portal to the Dreamtime? Now, this is gonna sound a bit loonie, but if I'm gonna attempt it, I'm gonna need some help to do it. I reckon I've got quite a bit of juice in me, but my connection to the Dreamtime has always been stronger when there are others connected to it around me. What that means is.. I may need to put some of you inna slumber." He points a thumb to the Giants, The Deadman and Silver Tiger. "Now, it won't hurt ya one bit, I promise. Just a simple stare into m'eye and you'll be snoozin', could be dreamin' off the pain too if ya want. Once the portal is open, I reckon I could keep it open, we'll have ya woken up and we can get right outta here. Seven, you could back us up in case anything comes out to harm us. Howsat?"
Seven responds, "The mirror lacks a power source on this side, but Sinclair and I together may be able to power it long enough for you to direct it."
Gracie nods at the Hypnotist. "It's worth a shot. And if you're powered by dreams, I can't imagine you can't do better than a creature from the fey world, a Titan, a Viking, and Mr. Zen himself here." She adds to the others. "And we'll make sure nothing hurts you while you're out."
She reaches out to touch the shoulder of Deadman and nods toward the dagger in his hand. "I know you said you'd like some peace... but like you said before, it might not work for you. But hold onto it. You can return it to Una when we see her next, if you get my drift. And then you can find your way out on better terms than this."
Grace hefts her blade and says to Sinclair and the Hypnotist. "Alright, just say when."
The Hypnotist gives Seven a wide grin and bellows "Fair game!" and accents with a clap.
Once everyone agrees, Mac quickly moves to put Eoten, Briareus and Silver Tiger to sleep. When it comes to the Deadman's turn, The Hypnotist places a hand on his shoulder, takes a deep breath and looks him in the eyes.
"I can sense it's been awhile since you've rested, friend. I may not be able to bring you death, but I can give you a reprieve. After all, they do say 'sleep is the cousin of death'. I really hope that one day, your affliction can be managed, but at least for now, lemme offer you some comfort, mate." With that, the Hypnotists eyes become a deep pit of swirling colors that seem to sink deeper into his head, almost as though his eyes were portals. Once asleep, he lays a single touch on each of their heads to restore their health and vitality.
He looks over to Seven, Sinclair, Gracie and the mirror, takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. The dreams begin to come to him, envigorating his connection to the Dreamtime. "Ay there we go mates, keep dreamin'." He opens his eyes, extending his hands to the mirror. Another deep breath and "When!