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"They say that everyone's journey to find themselves is unique. I would be glad to hear your stories, and recommendations, but ultimately if I am to find balance it must come from within than without. That being said, once balance is found, I would have no objections to trying to put further essences into me. But my goal is to further your research. I suspect that just like there many ways to truly find yourself, there are many "truths" to elementals, and their energies. Both you and Gabriel might be right about Dark, contradictory as it seems."
==
"Is this worse than when Moon attacked? I say nay! Rally, Happy Swords! Rally and set forth!"
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Kallik nudges Samen. "Umm. Your staff is upside-down." There is just a hint of a smile that softens her face for a moment.
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You frown as the magical world comes into better focus. There are high-pressure magics here, like a pus-filled wound ready to burst.
From years ago, you remember reading of a strange phenomenon when water was Ocean. Large, destructive attacks from the shore of this Ocean would start with a period of eerie calm, where the water would recede first, like a cobra rearing back to strike.
That is what this moment is. You feel latent Steam (and perhaps some Lightning?) building toward...something. It could be a day, it could be a week, but an explosion of some kind is happening in this area sooner than later.
Many of the Swords are heartened by Abnaki's words, and boldly march forward to see what the issue is.
The paladin contingent has not crested the last hill yet.
Briefly donning aspect of the falcon, Sequoya lets her eyes wander the flat, cracked landscape before her.
She points to a far ridge. "That big crack there. I just saw movement - a limb, could have been a leg. Not just sand in the wind, that's for sure."
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Opting to keep to her usual routine of being quiet and dwatching though she does make an effort to try to scowl and growl as much. Its soothing to be outside that stuffy city. The air smells better even in a larger group like this and nothing is better than sleeping under the stars.
Often enough her mind wonders how other el might act here and how their not here with her. Ibinu and Inam. When had their presence become as natural as breathing. Feels like a left a lung back in the city. And half her heart is off with a tiny elen who would have loved this trip. Safe. She is safe and I cannot be greedy... [smaller[Ibinu was right.. But why did I come out here?[/smaller]
-------
Jumping slightly when Kallik realizes the blue-eyed paladin is talking to her. "I use magic and my axe." Shrugging but she can almost hear the reproach in her mind, to try and be less unfriendly.
Looking around at the various el talking and laughing with each other. "This is a much larger group than I am used to traveling with and I don't have much experience with fighting in a larger group. More familiar with fighting on my own. Though I am willing to learn if you have anything you think you can teach me?"
Samen slaps his forehead at his simple, elen mistake and sighs heavily. "Thank you Kallik. Remind me of this moment when I need to be humbled again."
He finds the captain and explains his findings. "These wastes are on the cusp of climactic release. We need to get those paladins out of there, or they're going to be like steamed crabs in iron shells. I can't tell when it's going to blow, but we either need to dig a controlled release valve for the pressure, or more practically, get the Volc out of here."
Sequoya turns away from the endangered paladins ahead, making sure there are no enemies or traps behind.
"Black North!" she swears, taking a step back. "That green flash..."
She turns to Samen. "How fast is this place going to explode or whatever?"
"Well Sky's Tears are about to fall. We have maybe five minutes until floods and winds start howling down at us. I'll take an eventual explosion to certain death. Start looking for shelter, and run!"
The sound of torrential rain is like a massive waterfall. The roaring grows closer.
Abnaki's rallying cry has kept the moral of the troops - for now.
Shouting over the din of the rising storm, she says, "We can't outrun this! Head for cover in that fissure - we can find caves or tunnels to take shelter!" She points to an unimpressive-looking crack in the distance.
Samen looks about helplessly. This unfocused environmental expression of elemental wrath is beyond his direct control. Were it just him, he would earth glide to relative safety, but that's no good for the whole caravan. Wordlessly, he follows Sequoya's directions, helping haul whatever goods or folks he can to relative safety.
Something needs hauling, or lifting, or shoving. Samen contributes raw pagona power to the cause.
Stone shape. Kind of my go to spell honestly. That or haste.
acrobatics, make sure everyone keeps balance, no one twists an ankle while we get to safety, make sure we get their quickly and efficiently and get through any troublesome terrain.
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The Tears of Sky is the scourge of all sorcerors and alchemists who would dare try to fly in the age of dead gods. The cataclysmic storm howls down the steep hills leading toward the border of the Wastes. In that howl you hear despair, and hunger, and hate. Sheets of rain tumble down into the dirt, making the surfaces muddy in a heartbeat. Gabriel and his shadow are everywhere, stopping dozens of els from slipping to their likely deaths.
Immediately, it is impossible to hear anything save thundrous booms, pelting rain, and even sizzling fire raining from the black heavens above. You are all soaking wet, your clothing sodden against you.
Amongst all this, Samen witnesses perhaps the oddest meteorological phenomenon he has ever seen: the falling acid (mucous-like, one of several terrible things in the air) swirls about in the winds; is boiled away by streamers of fire; solidified somewhat by the sudden chill; and finally struck by random lightning into some semblance of life --- an ooze the size of an elephant stands between you and the fissure.
Splitting their forces quickly and efficiently, the paladins take command of the various groups of the Happy Swords. The mercs are all too happy to follow their lead, and so far no one been left behind. The paladins use simple military hand commands to keep everyone together.
***
Roaring defiance, Samen earth glides his hands under a slab of rock, and uses the leverage to force the ooze out of the way without directly touching it. Mishipeshu attacks from the other side, raking out huge gouges from the bottom of the thing to knock it off balance.
A few of the more brawny mercs understand what Samen is doing, and add their strength to the stone. The ooze slowly tips over and your arms tremble with the effort. Abbygailiwy gives the whole group a gust at their backs, and it is barely enough - the monstrous pile of ash, mud, fire, and acid crashes to the opposite side, allowing you to start piling through the fissure.
-but it is clearly not wide enough for everyone to make it inside before the Tears arrive.
Though Kallik's various curses and screams of anger at this stupid situation cannot be heard, the outrage is etched on every line of her face. Spitting her incantations in Oread, she throws up her arms and fires a tremor from the very earth at the crack. Damn it all if it ends up burying us, she thinks, but I have to try to save these people.
Abnaki grins, the audacity immediately appealing. He shapes the stone elegantly, like poetry, opening it up after Kallik weakens it so nicely. Both Krz' surge between the two Oreads, a crystalline humming so loud it can be felt in your chests. In response, roots grow and twine through the ceiling, holding it in place.
The fissure trembles, and gapes, quadrupled in size before it stabilizes once more. The Sword and the paladins shout in reckless euphoria, astonished to be alive, as they pour through this unlikely salvation.
Acid-smoking, frozen, and burned, huddled in a dusty hole in the ground, the mercs live another day.
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Abnaki takes 23 cold damage from a bolt of frost
Osna takes 12 fire damage from a fireball that lands in front of him
There is also one dying merc, a slender sylph that got hit with the 27 acid damage
Osna's breath rasps loudly in the cavern. He cradles the burned side of his face in his hand. "That woulda been a hell of a lot easier without the hangover."
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Sylph. Protect the Sylph.
As Abnaki darts back out towards the merc, he wonders, Why? Why did that thought come so easily to me? He pulls out his wand of CLW as he lunges forward, prepared to use a charge to save this sylph's life.
Abnaki, the Dead Witch must be smiling as you plunge into death to save a companion. You catch only the last spray of the acid deluge. You drag the sylph into the shelter as the rest of the company retreats farther inward.
The sylph, perilously close to death, does not react to the first cure. The second takes hold, bringing the unknown merc to coughing consciousness. You cannot recognize who this is - their face has been marred by the acid.
The blue-eyed paladin puts his hand on your shoulder. "With your permission, soldier, I'm going to take this one to a makeshift infirmary we're building in the back." His clear gaze seems diamond-edged, full of cerulean clarity. "Here." He lays hands on you -- you feel a surge of pleasant heat as your wounds are partly healed.
"Rest up." He nods to all of you, then helps to move the marred sylph away.
From within the hole, Samen does a scan for weaknesses through which the steam might suddenly flash-cook everyone.
Samen, you find no such weaknesses - the tunnels here are solid enough, away from the damage your companions caused earlier.
Before you are allowed to feel relief, however, you see a long string of complex pictograms etched upon the wall, the likes of which you've never seen. The first thing you notice is several symbols that look distressingly similar to the hideous efreeti statues of Hearth.
Samen, your exhausted eyes pore over the pictograms for a full minute as your mind whirls with thoughts of lingual acrobatics. Perhaps a language of ideograms, like Undine? Or a cipher of some kind, a riddle that could take candles of thinking to unravel-
You smack your head. No. It is a simple alphabet. What kind of people would bother to make such complicated symbols for each individual letter? You grasp that this language has much in common with modern and middle Ifrit -- this is an older language, but utterly distinct from High Ifrit.
He does his best to translate a rudimentary meaning from it, and at least sketches down the alphabet for later reference.
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It is mostly long, vainglorious titles of former rulers. Your stomach sinks as the titles become less rational and more like ranting -- this is a cult of efreet worshippers. Specifically, these caverns appear to be dedicated to Duca Bruma, roughly the Duchess of Steaming and Broiling.
The meandering script brings you to a shallow alcove, neatly and squarely cut, where a primitive blood-painting of an efreeti face is smeared across the rock wall. A pile of old ashes lies scattered on the floor.
"Hmm." Samen contemplates the troubling commentary and the ominous ashes. He tells the others what he found, and warns the paladins and mercenaries to avoid the alcove.
"We could probe this further. I would bet that this duchess is the cause of the irregularities in the steam out there. Or we could finish sheltering here and move on. We've already lost a fair bit of resources here, and there's no reward in picking fights we won't get paid for. I doubt she'd be happy with us interfering with her plans."
The blue-eyed paladin nods, considering your words. "I'd prefer to let sleeping pogonas lie, and avoid trouble." He does not say this in a tone of finality, but you can tell he's highly skeptical of exploring the ruins of a cult in the middle of a storm.
A lower-ranking paladin (a Valiant, for those with decent military knowledge, or history) comes toward the group. The blue-eyed paladin (a Paragon, perhaps?) listens, and encourages him to speak freely in front of the rest of you.
There is a grim moment of silence for the dozen dead elens. It is a miracle that so many of you survived, yet it still holds the taste of defeat.
Sequoya and Kallik prowl around the perimeter of the tunnels with Mishpeshu, making sure everything is quiet.
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Abnaki, Kallik finds you after her patrol is done. She has a tight grip on her axe - her face is a mix of nervous and angry. "Hello, griot." You are surprised to hear the old Oread word for 'storyteller' from this warrior who has no tribal name. It speaks of a very traditional upbringing. Was she brought up in Great Forest somewhere, then exiled?
"Hmm. Take a watch with me. We should talk about Krz. And what to do." As she hands out these terse statements, her dark jade eyes scan you: your shoulders, your weapons, and your boots, as if trying to locate your Krz. She scowls, mostly to herself.
****
"Say-say, could you use your prestiggy-magic to make this taste like all the elements at once? Like the Tears outside?" She holds her spoon in your face, trying to get your attention.
Samen shakes his head at Abby. "Sorry. I know of that spell, but never prepare it. If one is to lie, it's best that it not be to oneself.
Besides, it would only drive you mad to taste essences you're not truly imbibing."
She sighs dramatically. "I suppose being driven mad by illusory tastes should be avoided. Fine, little wizard, but at least burn some bacon for me later tonight."
Gabriels sitting and watching the storm above, He doesn't like it. He is more or less practicing some kind of darkness magic not that he's displayed much spell talent , keeping an eye on and staying with the group. Abby, question for you. Are you able to see my shadow or hear him? I figure if your both kinds of elementals? Gabriel is creating small orbs of darkness, or at least trying, it does seem to be straining him a little.
Abby purses her lips and thinks about the question. "I certainly cannot hear him silly, there is no sound in your shadow." She eats from her spoon while also twirling it midair with small gusts of air, making the process into a game. "And I can only see him when he wants to be seen. He has too much hiding in him, and I don't care enough about seeing."
She eyes your magical attempts. "You are not doing a very good job with that darkly magic, mister thief." Though the words are blunt, there is no malice behind them. "And yes, I imagine we are both elementals. Say-say could likely bore you to death with our big long science-element names that would go in books and be read by other boring people."
Abnaki follows Kallik to take a watch. "There's not much to say," he remarks with a shrug. "I fell asleep, deep within the Quiet Elder, and when I awoke from a dream where I traveled for an eternity, there was Krz, occupying my mind with me. They do not answer questions well, isn't that right Krz?" He continues. "To tell the truth, Samen's elemental concerns me more right now. It's getting stronger. Wilder. Once I had hoped I could teach it to emulate elenity, but now..." He hugs himself with his arms. "We may need to have a plan if she turns against us, and I don't know if Samen is ready to hear that. Did you know it wears the form of his love? His love that it killed, and climbed inside of?"
He looks at Kallik candidly. "What would you have me do, Blessed of Hearth? How can I be of service?"
Staring at Abnaki with a mildly horrified look. Opening her mouth to speak then closing it. closing her eyes and taking a breath before meeting Abnaki's gaze, her face more neutral again. "I know very little about any of you. And he has a lot of restraint to not kill an elemental wearing the skin of his love."
Looking around, "Cannot say I would have that level of restraint. I have certainly never shown it before."
Tracing her fingers along the green veins on the axe in her lap, "Kallik. Not Blessed. That was.. That was an accident. And you saw the two elen I was with. They are the blessed ones. All I wanted was to know more about Krz since there seem to be two of them. But if I can help I will."
Fingers move to the twisted golden-brown wooden handle and squeeze tightly, "Something was wrong with me, with my blood, and my mind. I would lose myself to a.. a bloodlust. And Ibinu was able to purge it from my veins, I think I almost died. But when I woke up this axe was in my hand. It took a little while but soon Krz started talking in my mind.."
Krz speaks. This close together, it is difficult to tell which Krz is speaking. "I remember being Kallik's twin. I was given over to the Fey, brought up in their ways. But I do not know why there are two of me. One loves music, and the other loves stories. Are we pieces of the same el?"
***
Around two in the morning with nuthin' better to say, Osna asks Sequoya a question. "So why were you and Kallik in the Hearth is the first place? Pretty clear ye hate the city, 'specially yer friend."
That's because it's not real magic...or at least not mine i suppose. it's more like faking it... it's hard to explain, Technically anyone can learn this if they put in the effort. I'm not one for books, i just feel and do, though some concepts fascinate me enough to look into it. Anyway, thank you for your insight, See when he wants to be seen... i hadnt considered that. He continues his training until he retorts with a bluntness of his own, What Do you care about? You don't care for hiding your wild personality and you've been with this group longer than myself. Or are you and Samen more like a mage and Familiar bond? Though i suppose i should be asking both of you that.
Abbygailiwy laughs, a tinkling like windchimes before a storm. "No wonder you are terrible if it is fake magic. My Say-say only spends his time on real magic that makes him powerful and crushes his enemies." She seems proud of this last statement, preening.
"As to your other questions, I care about feeding on delicious things, seeing beautiful evening dims, and sometimes the thrill of battle. Samen provides these things, and I kill bad things for him."
She waves a hand airily at you. "I don't know all those words for wizard things. Why do you care what a boring wizard would call me? I am powerful and beautiful, it is that simple."
****
Loyalty. That is why i care, if you betray us...such as if an enemy gained control of you. That would prove problematic. The shadow stained Ifrit stands and stretches, wandering closer to the fire, I am not a mage, truth be told i dislike magic...it's flashy and chaotic. I prefer the quiet and my dancing, if i could stop drawing my blade i would, but... there are bad people in the world. Those bad people will try to use you to kill him, you should...be worrying more about how to stop that than about your next meal. If he dies, then you meals become harder to find.