Brannin breathed deeply, his right eye twitching. It was hard to think when he was 'juiced up.' There was also no way of ending it until it ran it's course. With great care he said "The bones break like any other, magic, science or alchemy. Let's push on."
It is dimly lit, since there is light coming in from the open doors behind you as well as ligh from up ahead.
A tiled walkway surrounds a square patch of earth and sand in this high atrium. A balcony on the second floor overlooks the courtyard, and a square hole in the ceiling opens to the sky. Four columns in the corners of the atrium support the roof above, and the walls are decorated with symbols and hieroglyphs depicting animals, celestial creatures, and the sun and moon.
Rising from the middle of the sand, you see a statue of a woman form in front of you. "Who are you? Why have you come here?" it asks.
Magic? Sure. Cardshark says dismissively. Then the statue speaks.
Oddly enough, it does seem to be a broken form of the common tongue.
"My name is Heshsharu, spirit guardian of this establishment. I get so few visitors here. Tell me, Lucian Bractarna, who are these Knights of Pharasma? And what is an archeology?"
He's talking to a statue. And it's talking back. Is this a trick?
Cardshark starts looking for a voice tube or something going from the statue.
Still pumped full of chemicals that could only be called “combat drugs”, Brannin didn’t feel like he was the best choice to determine what was real and what was not.
Edgar sidles up to Lucian, then looks at the statue. Ask it not to send stuff to kill us, he whispers, looking around suspiciously. Any moment now, or if we say the wrong things, those animal pictures are going to leap out of the walls and come after us.
"Ancient? I suppose I don't notice time the way you do. It seems strange to me that people forget things that are right here. How do you exist? How many centuries do you live? What other forms can you take?"
"You want to take from ME?!? Perhaps now I will take from YOU!"
You all manage to get the drop on this now violent man made of sand.
Kaboom!
(touch)
Pumped full of combat drugs and adrenaline, it did not take much for Brannin to be pushed into action. Not even bothering to shoot his gun, he charged in with mental fist raised.
Edgar, enraged, lashes out with his light mace, but sand is a tricky thing to break even with a solid hit.
Between Cardshark's bullet, and Brannin and Edgar hitting it with solid blows, the sandman practically falls apart. He disappears into the ground.
Cardshark reloads
Brannin drew his pistol and readied himself to shoot the enemy if it returned. But between the stress and combat drugs, he was far too twitchy to use it properly.
Branin, calm down. What happens, happens. Just ready your shot Cardshark says, seeing Branin seems rattly.
As the sand creature drops, Edgar also seems to slump, coming out of his rage and into a funk. Why is everything everywhere trying to kill me? he mutters. In his mind, he's back at the ambush in the desert.
The truck overturns, sending the dead driver sprawling, but this time he's a zombie and lunges at Edgar's throat. Edgar desperately tries to free himself from the wreckage and find something to beat the zombie away.
In the real world, he cringes a moment and then leans against the wall, breathing heavily.
Brannin nodded, though it was jerky. ”It’s the arm.” He said. ”It’s part of me. And in times of danger it can pump me full of adrenaline and…the like. It makes concentrating really hard. But I’ll try.” Get it together. He admonished himself. Edgar didn’t look all too hot either. It wasn’t just the arm. This place felt wrong in a superstitious way…
It seems to stay quiet. You all stand ready for a few minutes, but perhaps the creature is afraid to show itself.
”Maybe…maybe magic is just another force, like…uhm, electricity. If that makes sense? We can’t see electricity, but it’s natural. It could just mean that this is a power source understood back then that has been lost.” Brannin offered, feeling very foolish saying it.
"Hmm. That is an interesting idea."
Edgar shakes himself back to reality and, seeing the group ready to move on, again takes his position at Lucian's shoulder, mace in hand and a grim look on his face.
If we find out how it works, let's keep that away from the Chelaxians, no?
"Heh. Yeah. The last thing this world needs is another arms race." It felt good to talk about it as if though it were real, but in a way which was not superstitious. It made going further into the ruins much more palatable.
Magic is real? I admit what we have seen is strange, but let's not go crazy. Cardshark shrugs.
I guess we will have to see if it's real
The doors do not appear trapped. You open and fine more "outside" space.
The western side of the estate forms an L-shaped yard mostly given to sand, sun-dried earth, and the ancient husks of dead trees. Stone benches line the walls of the yard, and a large tiled pool sits in the southwest corner, dried and partially filled with sand. A short flight of steps leads between a pair of pillars to a set of stone doors in the west side of the house (which you just looked through). At the north end of the yard stands a squat stone building with columns at every corner.
Suddenly, out of the dried "pool", a giant whiptail centipede comes scurrying out, clearly sensing a fresh meal.
The creature takes the hit and charges at Lucien. It is huge and vicious! Lucian just barely dodges out of the way.
Brannin came in, ready to deliver a punch with his steel fist, but found that it was all but impossible to land a hit given how low it was to the ground and how quickly it moved.
Cardshark shoots
A very small nick, but it all adds up. The question remains, though, how fast can you add? Will it be fast enough?
The beast shifts its focus to Brannin, and attacks again, biting the man on his good shoulder.
And then, imposibly fast it seems, the whiplike tail of the centipede twists around and smacks at Lucien's legs, almost knocking him to the ground.
Despite the combat drugs, the former soldier went down fast and hard. Having a large chunk of his shoulder ripped to shreds tended to do that.
Edgar rushes in, flying into a rage as he wields the mace that is currently his preferred weapon. On his lips are an incoherent string of Orcish curses, punctuated by "This again!?!"
Boom!
Another shot is fired
At least this thing is natural enough. Though a bit big
Edgar runs up but his new favorite weapon simply glances off the creature. The two gun shots hit. Olivia moves in carefully behind the centipede, hoping to avoid notice.
The centipede does notice Edgar, and takes a crack at him.
Edgar is practically swallowed whole, but manages to barely pull away.
Brannin made a gurgling noise as he lay on the ground.