Before he even gave Hedrak a chance to answer he suddenly deflated, resting his back against a wall. "I'm not saying I can't be convinced into this madness. I just...I just want somebody else to acknowledge, out loud, that it's madness."
"I acknowledge it - it is madness" - Hedrak grunted grimly - "But I intend to see us win" - he added, without skipping a beat - "And you will be bound to tell our story to all we meet" - in spite of the jest, he did not smile.
Zordt returned from his side conversation with Hedrak. "We're not doing this. It's suicide." He paused, rather dramatically. "Not until we know more at least. I'm going to take a second look in that library. I'll need all the help I can get."
Gitana leaves the arcane research to Zordt.
She takes her gear and sets out to locate a witch or wizard who can school her in casting spells for transfer into the Harrow Deck . She hopes she can convince the source to let her learn the spell in exchange for some of her gear.
She is looking for two spells she has heard of that she would like to have ready when fighting the demon: Iron Stake and Trial of Fire and Acid.
While standing in the merchant quarter, Gitana leans against a wall out of the flow of pedestrian traffic but in earshot of conversations and within view of a wide range of street vendors and shops. She loses sight of what is actually going on around her and scans a rush of images and listens to snippits of conversations, searching for a lead on a reliable arcane caster who could tutor her in the spells she seeks.
If she locates a source, she will seek her or him out, casting [/i]Tap Inner Beauty[/i] just before trying to negotiate, hoping the source may find her attractive and be willing to give her a better deal.
Norde helped carry books to Zordt's table, got one of the temple researchers to talk through ideas with the half orc, and explained to a pretty librarian that Zordt really didn't have time for her flirtations. Norde had to explain that last part to Zordt as well.
Zordt determined that the 'death' of such a powerful outsider on the material plane would probably create a personal demi-plane into which the wounded essence of the demon would retreat. Over a lengthy period of time, perhaps hundreds of years, perhaps longer, the demon would slowly recover. It would, however, be trapped within this demi-plane, unable to escape without some kind of special calling ritual, such as the one the greyskins had begun when they massacred Will's village and began to pull Akbelleth into the boy.
Zordt felt confident that it would be possible for someone to follow the demon into this demi-plane, a temporary portal opening near the site of the demon's death, and vanquish it for all time. Writing about such places was limited to a few scraps of narrative scattered across several different texts. One told a story about a king who had led hundreds of soldiers into such a demi-plane. Weeks later he had been found in the castle dungeons, covered in filth and blood, raving madly about what his soldiers had done to one another. Others told of smaller expeditions into demi-planes, in one case just a single wizard and his trusted bodyguard had gone, which had been successful. They had overcome a couple of obstacles, encountered the wounded essence of the outsider they vanquished on the material plane, and successfully destroyed it for all time.
Gitana is able to find a powerful wizard with both spells. She is sympathetic to your trial, but not willing to provide any aid outside of selling you her spells at the standard price. "I didn't get this far in life by tangling with demons."
Norde remarked, "which is funny, because that is exactly how we got here, right Gitana?"
Hedrak offers to assist.
Norde also tries to assist...
Woot!
The group finally resolved to move forward with the ceremony to banish the demon. Will's condition hadn't improved further since you had arrived, and he seemed to be growing recalcitrant again. As before, an incense was lit which calmed the boy. You gathered in the temple's prayer room, a cavernous space which had been cleared for the occasion. Only two long benches remained in the central space, slowly filling with spellcasters and priests who would aid in the ceremony.
Will was set in a comfortable chair near the middle of the room. A circle of ground silver had been sprinkled around the chair, with an opening leading out into a larger circle of ground silver that would contain the demon. As Zordt had learned, the group of priests and clerics slowly filtering into the room would be able to draw Akbelleth the demon from Will into the central circle, where you would be able to weaken him using the Lance of Gwenevere, wound him with your weapons, and then follow him into his own demi-plane to finish him off for all time.
Above you, on two large galleries which overlooked the prayer room, several observers who would not participate watched. Gitana recognized one as the woman Lyra, who she had identified earlier. Adras, the envoy you had spoken to earlier, stayed behind the benches full of spellcasters, waiting in case you called him.
Father Frances approached you before the circles of silver. "When you are ready, I will begin the ceremony." He held two sheets of paper with careful diagrams etched onto their surfaces.
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Gitana negotiates to pay for the service of learning the new spells and transferring them to her spellbook by offering to give her Gitana's Sleeves of Many Garments.
She studies each spell for about an hour, trying to understand the mystic interplay of will and flesh and magical energies.
DC 18
To learn Iron Stake:
To learn Trial of Fire and Acid:
She then spends another three hours per spell shuffling her Harrow deck, dealing cards out as she reviews how the spell works. Each time she does this, she incorporates the knowledge of the spell into the deck for later preparation. Eventually, she finishes, thanks the wizard for her help and departs.
She returns to the quarters at the temple, has a meal, and checks on the other preparations. Then she checks on Will, gives him a fierce hug, and retires for the night. Her dreams take her back to her days in the haunted manor house, learning from the ghosts of witches past. She also relives dream versions of the many fights of the past week or two, waking each time she suffers wounds in the dream.
Finally dawn ushers in the new and fateful day. She follows her usual ritual of celestial obedience to Irez with the drawing of three harrow cards.
The Courtesan Charisma CN
The Wanderer Intelligence NG
The Trumpet Constitution LE
Effects: +4 bonus against spells cast from scrolls
Once: +2 to a d20 roll modified by constitution, including Fortitude Saves and Constitution checks.
She arrives ready for the ceremony. Before things get started, she hugs Will again, and then hugs Norde, Zordt, and Hedrak, thanking them for their strength, courage, and tenacity.
When Father Francis gave the signal, she nods and heads into position.
"You will stay behind this time my friend" - the magus bid farewell to Dog, leaving him in care of the acolytes - "I will come back when I can" - he patted the loyal animal.
"But you, do not worry. You are coming with me" - he nodded at Raziel, who peeked at him from his backpack with a serious expression.
----------
Hedrak smiled when he was handed the Lance of Gwenevere - "It is perfectly balanced. An amazing weapon" - he deftly swirled it around in his hands, studying its runes, weight and equilibrium.
For a warrior, few things carried more weight than being able to wield a good blade in combat, let alone an exceptional one. Could this be... His fate?
"I am ready"
Gitana negotiates to pay for the service of learning the new spells and transferring them to her spellbook by offering to give her Gitana's Sleeves of Many Garments.
After checking to ensure that you were ready, Father Francess ushered you into the secondary Magic Circle and called for order. The spellcasters and priests who had been gathering too their seats and readied themselves, while the observers organized into a neat row along the balcony. The room suddenly grew very quiet, the only sound was the slow shuffling of a pair of servants who moved about the edges of the room, lighting candles. Will looked at each of you in turn. "Thank you for the hug Gitana, though I am afraid I may not live through this day." He seemed weary.
Father Francess rose his voice in song, and those gathered before you joined him jubilantly. After a moment, he lifted a hand for quiet. Setting his carefully etched diagrams beside the circle, he began to intone several spells. First he blessed the two silver circles with Magic Circle spells. Next he cast Dimensional Anchor on the diagrams. After each spell, the pontiffs before you chorused their approval. Will watched everything quietly from his chair.
The room flickered, full of soft glowing light from the candles and high windows that let the sun in. The rich scents of cinnamon and myrrh wafted delicately through the air.
The priests and spellcasters began to chant. Father Francess was filled with the strength of dozens of spellcasters, and the faith of many holy people. A long, keening wail pierced the air, and after a moment you realized it was coming from Will. The boy convulsed, eyes rolling in his head, tongue lolling horribly, and then fell back in his chair. The chanting continued.
Inky black smoke spread through the central circle, stopping just short of Hedrak. Terrible sounds rose before you, the howl of a wolf, the screaming of horses, the wailing of dying men. The darkness hungered for you, and you felt an inexplicable urge to jump across the circle into the smoke, like the feeling one gets when standing at the top of a cliff. There was a whoosh of air, and all the candles in the room extinguished. The sky above grew dark, and the scent of urine filled the air.
A voice like a warhorn rumbled from the inky smoke, so deep as to be almost below the level of human comprehension.
Norde looks at Hedrak, waiting for his companion to make the next move.
Zordt's heart quivered, but he had the support of many at his back. "Your tricks mean nothing, we know what you are! Show yourself!"
Zordt blesses his allies, his trembling hands slightly betraying his fear.
For a moment, the smoke cleared. There was some strangeness to the way you saw the towering figure which emerged from the darkness. For a moment it seemed far away, a mountain seen emerging from clouds. Then Akbelleth was close, terribly close. A hand that could have wrapped around Norde's head easily reached for Hedrak...
And stopped short, just at the edge of the circle. Akbelleth was trapped.
With a bellow that shook dust from the rafters, the demon recoiled, drawing his smoke around him once again.
From above, where the observers had been watching, you could hear sounds of horror and dismay. "How can they hope to win?"
"Just be glad none of our soldiers are in there with them."
After checking to ensure that you were ready, Father Francess ushered you into the secondary Magic Circle and called for order. The spellcasters and priests who had been gathering too their seats and readied themselves, while the observers organized into a neat row along the balcony. The room suddenly grew very quiet, the only sound was the slow shuffling of a pair of servants who moved about the edges of the room, lighting candles. Will looked at each of you in turn. "Thank you for the hug Gitana, though I am afraid I may not live through this day." He seemed weary.
Gitana makes eye contact and says only, "Fate favors the brave." Then she winks at the lad and focusing on the rituals.
She moves to the opposite side of the circle from the half-orcs, not wanting to have all the demons enemies bunched together and prone to being hit by some magic effect at once.
She says nothing and tries to keep her breathing steady, her harrow deck in its case at her belt, top flap open to allow her to draw cards for delivering spells to the target.
It suddenly occurred to Zordt that he understood very little about the magic binding such a powerful being, and even then what was described to him was prone to failure. He twitched back as Hedrak was reached for, but when the magic circle held strong his bravado returned. "Ah, no trickery I see, just cowardice! Or perhaps I am too harsh, and just a bit of stage fright?" Zordt laughed, be it from bravery or foolishness, wide grin directed at the demon. If I am to die than let it be memorable.
Norde turns to Gitana, "tell me again why we can't just leave the thing in there for eternity?"
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"You were saying..?" - Hedrak chuckled at the creature's frustration, his eyes and hands brimming with energy.
"We did not call you to play games anyway. You were summoned here to be destroyed..." - his smile was now gone, and he focused on the spear.
As soon as he touched the lance in the presence of the demon, Hedrak felt it pulse with magical energies. Relying on his magical training, Hedrak focused these energies before carefully inserting the silver tip of the lance into the circle of ground silver trapping the demon. And then he felt himself pulling, pulling down a mountain, pulling with fingers made not of flesh but of pure will.
The lance shone bright as a torch, and the smoke inside the circle cleared. The demon was towering, fierce, a nightmare made material. Akbelleth was brought to his knees, pulled to the edge of the circle, bare chest exposed.
Norde waits until Zordt starts his song, and then...
x3
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Zordt scowled with both annoyance and fear when Hedrak raised the spear. Come on, I wanted some smarmy words to be remembered if I die here. He sighs, then draws in breath. Instead of a deep, rhythmic hymn, words come forth.
He drew his bow slowly, nocking two arrows and letting them fly. From his fingers sparked red lightning, infusing the arrows.
Hedrak harnessed the power of the Lance, and directed it at the beast, looking it straight in the eyes as it was pulled toward them - "Do you understand now?"
Norde turns to Gitana, "tell me again why we can't just leave the thing in there for eternity?"
"It would destroy Will," Gitana said as quietly as she could, not wanting Will to hear.
When the moment came to attack, Gitana activated the smudge of iron filings she had already pinched between her fingers as she said "Stuth iarainn gus do chridhe a bhriseadh." An iron stake about a foot long materialized in her hand. She hurled it at the demon. She focused more on aim than on strength, only needing the stake to touch the demon's foul hide.
plus gains the sickened condition for 1 round.
If hit, demon must make a DC 17 fortitude check.
If it fails, for the next 5 rounds, it must succeed at a concentration check (in addition to any normally required concentration checks) to use any spells or spell-like abilities it has—the DC of this check is equal to 15 + twice the spell’s level. If the creature fails this concentration check, its spell is wasted.
Norde attempts to point out some distinctive aspects of the creature, to help the other members of the group identify the creature, "Its ummm, blue, no black, and ummm, has 3, no, maybe 5 of those like udders..."
"Ummm, no, those might just be scars, forget it, I don't know what this thing looks like!"
One of Zordt's arrows turned on the creature's flesh, splintering and breaking before it could penetrate deeply. The rest of the party's blows struck home, causing the demon to howl with pain. Had there been no magic circles and no special ritual, the stained glass windows of the church would have shattered.
Norde noted horns pale and blue like ice, rising one behind the other like a range of mountains seen from far off. Huge wings spread to the edges of the circle, they would have been at least forty feet wide from tip to tip if the demon were not so confined. Pointed teeth and glowing blue eyes punctuated a frozen and jagged face. Then the demon drew back and the smoke returned.
Hedrak felt the demon slipping from his grasp as it was wounded. Just before he let go, a few wisps of smoke leaked out of the circle where the lance was positioned. The air suddenly grew freezing cold, sucking away your breath.
As the smoke returned, you heard Will cry out from within. "Please help. He's torturing me, please, aaaaiiiiiiieeeeee, please Norde help me!" The boy was wailing in pain.
You could see that Will was where you had left him, still slumped unconscious in his chair, and unharmed. The smoke didn't seem to be able to reach him, except a thin tendril which traced its way back to his chest.
"Ahhhh, even inside I can't get away from this damnable cold!"
"Will is not making those sounds! It's a trick to draw us close!"
Snarling the cold away, Hedrak focused on the spear again - "We are not done yet" - he growled at the demon - "Stop your ridiculous tricks. We are right here!"
Once again, Hedrak was able to draw the demon to his knees. His limbs were long and shiny, slicked with rime. His torso bulged with muscle, bare chest blue and straining, he must have been strong as a team of horses. But all that strength was useless before the might of your combined magics.
Those who held weapons that had touched Akbelleth noted that the handles of their weapons were now freezing cold.
Behind you, Father Francess was sweating, concentration etched on his face. The rhythmic chanting of the assembled priests and spellcasters continued. Above, you could hear a feminine voice.
"What a terrible waste of power. If only I had known what would happen here sooner, I would have found a way to harness the demon and use it to fight for us."
Most of the other observers had fled.
Norde looks at Will, ”I’m doing my best to help you lad!”
He grips the cold sword, and again attacks the demon…
x3
Zordt gripped through the cold, knowing it would get far worse if he did not continue. But his ears also heard the woman above and he notes her response for a later time.
Gitana drew spell energy for her newest spell, saying "Bidh teine agus searbhag gad chòmhdach!"
She drew a harrow card from her deck I immediately glowed green and crackled with yellow flames. She flicked the card at the demon.
"Burn and Melt!" Gitana yelled.
Allowing himself to be drawn by the spear's power, Hedrak's eyes glowed with a preternatural golden light, and the weapon assaulted the demon with a blast of searing light.