"Looks dark to me," Oddný agrees. Hjalte rumbles a laugh, "Birdman very wise. See dark, say dark. Shaman."
Tchokito ignores this sarcasm as he carefully examines the sheer edge of blackness. Cheok crows softly in his ear and says, "You always say 'be very careful'. Now you touch the dark. Hrmm."
The tengu's claw reaches out, intersects with the black wall and...nothing happens. His glowing talon falls right through the blank space without sensation. Or without harm which is also good. The light is swallowed up instantly by the darkness, providing not even a glimmer across the strange barrier. The witch senses no alarms or triggers set off either but such things are imprecise. Alarms could be made silent and triggers miniscule. Still, nothing happened.
No lighting bolts, no summoned beasts, no earthquakes. Just a sheer black wall that entirely hid his hands beyond. It was as if his arm was cut off by the absolute darkness. The tengu felt no sensation on the other side, neither heat or cold, or moving breeze.
Tchokito withdraws his hand, ignoring Hjalte's teasing. "Do any of you see a long stick or the like? If we are to stumble around in the dark, we should at least have something to probe our steps before we take them."
He takes a look himself briefly.
He doesn't spend long, however. "The silence troubles me. What has become of Eliyyah? We cannot delay long."
Steeling himself for the dangers ahead, straining his senses for signs of danger (and prodding with a stick if he can find a suitable one).
Unlike the last island, where such a thing would have been impossible, here plant life resides all around them. While the area around the lighthouse is little more then slick rock, Hjalte finally finds the remains of an old tree branch, five or six feet long. It was old and weathered but strong in his grip.
"Maybe Eliyyah didn't come this way." Oddný ventures. "Maybe he is out there wandering in the fog, lost."
"Crazy man not get lost." Hjalte replies, voice the usual deep rumble. 'Crazy man want place, he find place." Which was hard to argue. Considering Eliyyah could track the lighthouses location over hundreds of miles of open ocean, it is doubtful he got lost in the last few hundred yards. Even less likely is the idea that the cleric encountered the darkness and retreated. Tchokito had seen the man basically ignore a angry powerful daemon. Not much would cause Eliyyah to halt. No, they must go inside.
Tchokito grabs his stick and ventures into the blackness, Oddný and Hjalte hot on his heels. The world around him vanishes into a sheer black wall, as if he had closed his eyes. No, even then there were shadows or flashes of light. This was like going blind and instinctive fear wells up in him, his throat closing, his heart racing. What if instead of stepping into blackness, he was stepping into blindness? What if this was his life now, nothing but darkness. Forever?
Then the darkness vanished replaced by light. Tchokito's unseeing eyes took a moment to focus, the world a blur of light. Then he heard a voice shout, "No!"
Tchokito instantly stopped moving but too late. One of his taloned feet shifted under him, a pressure plate moving. A trigger? A trap? There was a grinding of wheels and hiss of machinery.
Tchokito's eyes cleared and he found himself in a very strange room.
It was very large and round, clearly the entire base of the lighthouse hollowed out into one open space. The floor was stone flagged but uneven and studded with both piles and holes, stone cast aside in untidy heaps, creating a lumpy landscape. Scattered throughout the room were thick steel columns running from floor to ceiling, wide as a young tree. They gleamed with a faint blue light that was growing stronger.
The outer wall was strangest of all however. It was a perfect circle of sheer blackness. Glancing back Tchokito saw Oddný and Hjalte step through this impermeable barrier, entering the room. It became impossible to see where the 'door' had been, lost in that perfect sheet of blackness. An effective method of hiding the way out.
"Till the sun grows cold,
And the stars are old," Says that voice that tried to warn him.
Tchokito glances and see Eliyyah standing near one of the columns, looking much the same.
Around them unseen machinery whirrs and grinds, weights clanking. The steel columns pulsate with a deep blue and then Tchokito feels it. The air...it is growing colder. Slowly but surely, the temperature is dropping.
"Eliyyah, it is good to see you well," Tchokito says, giving the man a nod even as he quickly takes in the situation.
He tosses the stick to Oddný. "Probe the darkness around the edges. There is likely something hidden in it beyond the entrance."
"Hjalte, search for a weak point in the glowing pillars. Any damage you can do will buy us more time."
"For myself, I will see if I can unravel this enchantment."
As swiftly as he can Tchokito casts his magic detection spell and investigates the area as swiftly as he can, searching for the core of the magic freezing the room.
"Nothing you can see that isn't shown
There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be" Eliyyah replies, helpful as ever.
Oddný snatches the stick out of the air and nods, "Might take awhile." With that vote of confidence she gets to work, probing the unseen space beyond the utter blackness.
Hjalte rumbles, "Birdman say break, then Hjalte break." He slides an heavy war axe off his back and starts to eye the nearest pillar like a woodsman surveying a likely tree.
Meanwhile, Tchokito and Cheok try to unravel the mystery of room, finding the source of the magic and perhaps other secrets. The witch had no desire to linger here, so moved quickly over the broken ground, clawed feet gripping into the exposed dirt and earth of the torn flagstones. He quickly reaches the lip of a ragged crater like hole. Peering down, the witch is disgusted to find it is filled with old bones, mixed with tattered remains of clothing and weapons. Clearly there are other dangers then cold here.
Speaking of which, the air is downright chilly now. Tchokito's breath fogs around his face, as if he was creating his own weather. Which the witch wishes he was, as the air grows steadily colder. It was passing 'brisk morning' to 'winter's day'. How long would it drop?
From his initial surveys, the witch seems to think the magic is related to the pillars. Examining one, it is already beyond frigid with ice crystals forming along the smooth, blue tinged steel. Coldness radiates off of it, reminding Tchokito of glaciers at the Crown of the World.
Suddenly a ringing clang resounds through the room, as Hjalte swings his axe at another one of the columns. The weapon glances off with a jarring motion, but the mighty swing has left a sizable dent in the beam. A spiderweb of cracks forms on the surface, the coating of ice reforming instantly. The damaged zone pulsates slightly.
"More, birdman?" Hjalte asks, hefting the blade.
And then the ground starts to tremble, soft at first but soon growing to violent shaking. The rocks and gravel around them start to rattle, sliding over each other in a horizonal landslide. Something was coming from under the ground. Something large.
Had striking the pillar summoned something to attack them? A burrowing creature would likely be attracted by vibrations, and given the sound it had made when Hjalte struck it...
Of course, a large burrowing creature might well explain these pits, as well, which meant...
"Get away from that pillar, Hjalte!" Tchokito warns urgently. "Get around on the other side of another one."
So two threats, at the least. A burrowing monster (or construct?) to keep you moving while the cold built to killing levels. Which meant they had to deal with both simultaneously, or at least distract the burrower long enough to unravel the cold.
The tengu stays well away from the pillar Hjalte struck himself, keeping it just at the edge of his detect magic so that he can examine it for signs of the enchantment being weakened by the damage to it.
Hjalte rolls his eyes but lumbers away from the damaged pillar, muttering about inconsistent birdmen. Tchokito ignores this and examines the damaged pillar, hoping to find some clue to get out of here. This was rapidly becoming more vital as the temperature dropped even farther. Already it was as cold as a winter's night in the Linnorm Kingdoms. true, Tchokito had endured far colder in his travel but he had been dressed for those occasions and accustomed to the temperatures. This chill was coming out of nowhere and already setting into his bones. All the more to figure out these pillars-
From her place near the wall Oddný shouts, breaking his concentration. "Tchokito, look!" The female huntress points to a spot in the floor, closer to the center of the room. Without warning a geyser of dirt and stones shoots up, sending a small cloud of dust. As the tengu blinks away the grit, he can hear a metallic grinding sound, like brass sliding over rock.
"Oh no." Oddný says, softly.
An immense centipede-like beast erupts from the ground, rows of chitinous plates on its back glowing red-hot. Streams of steam rise from the creature, which looks as if it had just been plucked for a furance.
"Remorhaz!" Oddný shouts, dropping her stick and reaching for her bow. "I've hunted them before. Watch out, tchokito. They are immune to fire and ice!"
Lovely.
Hjalte growls and swings his sword through the air. It glows slightly, the blade catching the searing red light off the beast. The remorhaz roars, a heavy bass sound issuing from behind clanking mandibles. Dozens of clawed feet dig into the churned ground, cracking stone with ease.
Tchokito thinks frantically as chaos breaks out in the room. The remorhaz is a threat to be certain, but the cold will kill them just as fast if it keeps building...
...what if they turn their problems against each other?
With a caw and a sharp gesture, the witch hurls a bolt of lightning at the beast to get its attention.
He races to stand near one of the pillars, placing himself in a direct line between it and the remorhaz, hoping to dodge aside at the last moment. "Let us turn heat against cold if we can!" he shouts to the others.
Cheok flutters off his shoulder, launching into the air even as a crackling bolt of pure energy bursts from Tchokito's claws. It crackles through the frigid air, bright blue, until it slams into the large insectoid creature.
Much of it seems to cascade harmlessly off the thick, brass like hide however, sizzling into the ground. Still, he seems to have gotten it's attention. With a hissing roar the remorhaz surges after the tengu, jaws clacking loudly.
Apparently thinking Tchokito has a plan Oddný and Hjalte do not attack.
The creature moves faster then Tchokito guessed however and is soon on him in seconds. While the jaws are not furnace hot, they are still sharp enough to slice through his feathers and skin with ease, cutting him deeply. Worse, the mandibles seizes on his arm, digging into his flesh with painful tenacity. Even as the world grows hazy with that, the tengu can see the long sinuous body starting to curl around him. This was not according to plan! The huge mouth starts to work, as if unhinging the jaws like a mighty snake.
Still, even in the midst of such pain, Tchokito notices one thing. The creature, in rushing to attack him, brushes against the icy pillar with the end of the thick bodied tail. The pillar hisses with steam as fire and ice meet. The remorhaz's body withdraws instantly and the pillar re-freezes but it does show promise.
If Tchokito can stop from being eaten.
Out of nowhere Hjalte charges from around the pillar and shouts in Hallit, "Birdman cannot have all the fun!" There is a fluidlty to his movements, a battle warriors grace in his stride that surprises Tchokito.
With a ringing blow he crash a huge overhand blow against the writhing, burning creature.
It is a mighty swing but much of it is deflected by the remorhaz's curving, sizzling armor. Sparks fly as if the Ulfen warrior was attacking someone's forge but the creature hisses in pain. Something was getting through and it seemed somewhat distracted from simply devouring the tengu witch.
Even in the painful grip of the remorhaz, tchokito can feel the growing cold seeping into his body.
Tchokito shrieks in pain as the remorhaz seizes him in its mandibles, then clamps his beak shut and tries to find something he can do to salvage this situation.
"Get its attention, either of you!" he shouts to his allies.
Then he desperately tries to concentrate on the delicate movements of a spell with his free hand while his other arm is being chewed on.
Completing his spell, he shrieks again--but this time it is a magically focused shriek, aimed straight at the head of the monster.
Tchokito's arcane screech echoes off the stone walls of the chamber, reverberating painfully. It drowns off Hjalte's roars, the remorhaz's screams and even the hissing steam rising off of its incandescent scales.
The insect-like creature shakes his armored head painfully at the sound, a pained hiss just audible over the racket. The grip slips slightly but then re-attaches with renewed vigor, slicing even deeper. The spell has clearly effected the monster but not as much as the tengu have liked!
From the wall, Oddný raises her bow and eyes the swirling mass of remorhaz, stones, Hjatle and Tchokito, all wreathed in billowing clouds of steam. "I've had easier shots," she mutters, drawing the string to her cheek.
The arrows goes wild and the Ulfen woman curses and she hurriedly draws another from her quiver.
The second arrow finds a mark, wedging under a red-hot scales. The arrow is soon smoking and smoldering but the damage is done.
"One more.." With blurred speed, Oddný grabs yet another arrow and looses it.
It goes wild too however, skipping very close to Tchokito's face.
Oddný curses the steam loud enough to be heard over the battle. The creature twists tighter around Tchokito, unconcerned about the burning arrow.
Then Hjalte lets out an animal like bellow and throws his shoulder at the burning remorhaz.
There is a crashing sound like a runaway blacksmith's cart as the mighty Ulfen slams into the centipede. The beast is surprised at the tackle however, roaring in confusion at the jarring impact. The blow is hard enough to know Tchokito free of the greedy jaws, dumping him on the stony floor. With a predator's instinct, it now realizes the Ulfen raider is the most dire threat and turns on Hjalte.
The air fills with the scent of burning flesh as Hjalte's skin starts to burn from contact with the flaming creature, but the Ulfen merely gives a savage grin and renews his slam.
The remorhaz counter attacks the man with slicing jaws.
The jaws slash the Ulfen's chest open, blood sizzling as it drips onto the heated plates of the magical creature. Hjalte keeps up the pressure despite the wounds.
Around Tchokito the airs grows even colder, the air painful in his lungs.
Tchokito gets unsteadily to his feet, the all-too-familiar feeling of approaching unconsciousness dragging at his thoughts as he tries to make sense of the battle. Is slaying the remorhaz more important? Focusing on the freezing pillars? Is it still possible to turn the remorhaz against the pillars?
Mentally reviewing his available spells, he hits upon an idea. From the way it had burrowed up to them before, he suspects the remorhaz is sensitive to vibrations. If it were robbed of sight and had to rely upon that sense...
Cawing out an incantation, he weaves a spell with his uninjured arm. Brilliant dust appears around the monster's head, getting in its eyes.
"Hjalte, strike it, then get as close to one of the pillars as you can!" he calls out, hoping the beast will be affected by his spell.
Flashing dust mixes with the billowing steam, creating a miniature tornado of shimmering clouds.
"Oh, come on!" Oddný shouts as her target becomes even more obscured. Worse, from Tchokito's POV, the creature seems to either ignore or overcome the blindness, still focusing on Hjalte.
Meanwhile, Oddný draws her bow again, muttering to herself about witch's and spells. The huntress takes her time, eyeing down the length of the arrow.
The first arrow sinks deep into the flesh of the beast, finding a slot between two glowing plates. The shaft is instantly sheared by the thrashing beast but the damage is done. The second arrow goes wild, thrown off by the cloud of multi-colored glitterdust. The creature is injured but still quite capable of fighting.
Hjalte, burned and seared, looks from Tchokito, to the freezing pillar and then to the thrashing remorhaz. He shakes his head once then lowers his should again, like a man trying to push a full cart. Then he screams and throws himself at the insectoid-like beast.
With shocking force he slams into it, knocking it backward, past Tchokito and into the freezing pillar. There is a crackling sound like the surface of a frozen lake shattering and then both man and beast are lost in a billowing white cloud. A fringe of it reaches Tchokito and it freezes him to the marrow, colder then a winter's night on the Crown, cold as the grave.
From inside the cold, there is an intense shrieking sound from the remorhaz, of pain and panic. The ground rumbles, stones flying as the beast tries to flee. The billowing gas parts somewhat, and Tchoktio can see Hjalte standing and holding the creature with both arms, roaring defiance. Then the cloud passes againa nd both figures are hidden from view.
Then there is a loud metallic snap, like an iron bar wrenched in half by a giant. Moments pass.
The cloud finally ebbs away, evaporating like morning mist. It reveals the remorhaz as a broken shell of armor and scales, laying still on the ground. The once red-hot scales are cooling now, with a gentle popping sound. Next to it, Hjalte lays on his side. Even from a distance, Tchkito winces at the visible damage. Burns and frost-bite intermingled to create a strange patchwork of blue and black on every inch of exposed skin. His beard if singed and frosted, face a battered set of wounds. Worse, two long lines of slash marks cut deeply into a shoulder, blood flash frozen to his tattered shirt.
Wavering on his feet, Tchokito stumbles forward, half-kneeling and half-falling forward when he reaches Hjalte. Summoning up his healing magic he hopes there's enough life left in the warrior to heal him as the witch reaches forward to touch him.
Once, many years ago during this travels on the Crown, Tchokito had the misfortune of coming across a burned town. It had been the dead of winter and, judging from the evidence, a smoking fire had gotten out of control and caught on the lodge houses of the locals. The scene had been horrific, a mix of fire and ice, of smoke and frost. The corpses had been an odd mix of burned and frozen.
Those memories came to life as Tchokito looked on Hjlate's still form. The man's skin was seared black and crusted with frost, white lines crackling along every edge. Blueish smears dotted him here and there, along with soot stained char marks. The smell of cold but burnt flesh hung in the air above the fallen warrior. The man does not seem to be breathing and his form is still on the shattered stone, coils of chilling mist still rising.
Oddný arrive quickly, bow still in her hands. She drops it at the sight of the man, and kneels down. She checks for a pulse, then drops her head and mutters something in Hallit. Then, glancing at Tchokito, "Gorum truly takes one of his own today."
Even Eliiyah shuffles over, after being silent and still for the whole desperate battle. The still crazed looking cleric looks down at Hjalte without much emotion but says, in his sing-song voice.
"Hope is the dream of a waking man."
Then, Hjalte moves! A slight shift of the arm and cracked lips move. Something too quiet to hear.
"What did he say?" Oddný says with obvious concern leaning over him.
"Crazy...man...heal me.." Hjalte says, voice a strained frozen whisper, as if the man had spent a silent decade on a frigid mountain peak.
Eliyyah starts to back away saying, "No, no.."
A managled hand, crusted with blood and missing several fingers lashes out with a stunning speed, catchign Eliyyah's robes. With ease it jerks him down to kneeling on the gravel floor.
"CRAZY MAN HEAL!" Hjalte thunders, roaring in the face of the cleric. An odd look passes over Eliyyah's face then, so quick Tchokito is only half convinced he saw it. A smile?
Then the strange man lowers his hand, places a hand on the fallen, broken man.
There is a slow pulse of golden color, tinged with sky blue. The air around the pair warms and shimmers slightly, the mist vanishing. A strange scent fills the air, of fresh leaves and swift breezes, of dusty roads and leaping waves. A vigorous, energetic smell that sets even Tchokito's weary limbs to movement.
The moment passes and Hjalte is much healed. Not all the way, not by any standard but much of the damage is reversed. His skin has turned back to the right color, with the worst of the burns and frostburn removed. His face is clear and his eyes bright. His beard is still mangled and several fingers are still missing, but the stumps are clean wounds.
Hjalte sits up and shakes his head. "Crazy man...heal magic."[
Eliyyah rises to his feet, shaking slightly. His face is pale and worn, as if he had just run a marathon. Tchokito had watched many clerics at work and few had showed such signs of strain. Clearly whatever patron or god granted him power, did not give it freely.
Still, he had clearly saved the Ulfen raider's life.
Oddný digs in a pack and withdraws a small glass vial. "A potion of Cure Moderate Wounds. After our last adventure, I scoured the hold and found this. I don't think the Captain will approve, but I figured we'd need it." She holds it out, "Tchokito, you look like death warmed over. Maybe you should take it? I was going to pour it down Hjalte's throat but considering he isn't quite dying anymore..."
Tchokito lets out a long sigh as Eliyyah's magic brings Hjalte back from the brink of death--or possibly even beyond. He sags, almost falling to the ground before catching himself.
"Save the potion," he croaks. "My magic... can at least handle..."
He trails off, struggling to form the focus to call on his small healing magic for his own benefit. As a faint glow forms around his talons, he lays one hand on his own bite wound.
Swiftly both the wound and his incipient hypothermia are washed away, leaving only that slight nagging weakness that remained from the touch of the spirit on the last island. The tengu gets unsteadily to his feet.
"I..." he croaks, then pauses to clear his throat as he steadies himself. "I can provide healing for each of you... but only once in a day. However weak my magic proved against that beast, I can at least still do that."
"Hjalte..." Tchokito begins, but words fail him. What could he say to this scene? "...I have lost too many companions on my path. I am glad... you are not one of them."
He swivels his head to Eliyyah, dark eyes focusing on the priest. "I never told you, Eliyyah. When my soul was lost within the basin... the voice that spoke to me said to tell you that you are worthy of the title you bear."
Again the witch pauses, looking at the small group. Steeling himself he says, "After that I should not be surprised if you think little of my guidance... but if you will have it, I think we should return to searching for an exit. While retreating to resupply and reinforcements might be wise after this experience... I suspect this place will allow us only forward, not back. We shall only be going into... greater danger, most likely. But we have no choice at all."
Oddný puts the potion away with a shrug, but does say, "Who else is going to lead? Hjalte?"
The big Ulfen gives a lopsided grin at this but shakes his shaggy head.
"Eliyyah?" The crazy cleric merely stands there, still looking at them with that odd, almost avian cock to the head.
"Cheok?" The raven, who has found a nice rock to sit on gives a loud caw of approval at this idea but only ironically. Ravens have strange ideas of leadership given they are a social but deeply selfish animal. Ruling a raven rookery requires many skills that do not translate to governing humans, at least from what Tchokito has gathered from his friend over the years.
"I'll take that as a no," Oddný says and then finishes, "And I'm sure as hells not doing it. Face it Tchokito, you are stuck with us, like eyes on a potato. As for going forward, you two," she indicates Tchokito and Hjalte, "Take a breather, I'll keep looking for the door. Now, where is that stick..."
The huntress finds the long stick Tchokito brought into and, with care, she carefully feels out the abyssal wall of black that still circles the chamber. The remorhaz is still popping, the metal plates creaking as they slowly cool to room temperature. Which is still rather chilly but no longer deadly or dangerous. Whatever spell or science had been governed by the pillars has been broken.
Hjalte toes the fallen beast with a booted foot, "Birdman no if thing is worth money? Hide? Blood? Teeth?"
Soon Oddný gives a shout and says, "Here. There is a gap here. I still can't see anything, but the stick falls through the black here!" She indicates a patch of the darkness that looks exactly the same as everywhere else.
Tchokito sighs in acknowledgement of Oddný's point. "Well let us hope my ideas will be of more use than my magic was..."
Tchokito shrugs slightly at Hjalte's question. "I would imagine whatever allows them to heat themselves like that is a potent alchemical or magical substance, but I do not know how you would identify it."
He sends a sense of concerned question to Cheok, a wordless inquiry as to the raven's health after the killing cold of the room.
The tengu turns his head to the place Oddný indicates. "Well, let us advance, then. Keep probing ahead of us until we get through the darkness, in case there are more hidden dangers."
He strides towards the place she indicated.
Tchokito does not know much about the dead creature except they are fearsome predators of the artic parts of Golarion, being immune to both fire and ice. Still, he seems to recall that the plates make formidable armor if worked properly. Unfortunaly, they seem to be quite heavy and it isn't as if they have any blacksmiths on board the Linnorm's Breath.
Cheok ruffles his feathers and caws softly. With his usual bravado he says, "It gets colder up in the sky! That was nothing!"
Likely story.
Tchokito faces the blank wall, that sheer slice of utter blackness that wraps around the room. Oddný taps the stick forward and it stops, hitting something. "See, that's the wall. But here," She moves half a step to the left and taps again. This time the stick vanishes to the full length into the abyss. "A gap behind it."
Seeing nothing else for it, Tchoktio grabs the stick, and leads the way into the blackness. Again there is that strange sensation of utter nothing for a moment as he passes through the barrier, where all senses seem cut off, no sight, sound and even touch seems dulled. Tchokito had encountered blind men and women on his journeys before, and many seemed happy and productive enough. His little taste of such deprivation however, did not engender a desire to try it for a longer term.
Happily, it passes instantly and Tchokito finds himself at a stair landing. Behind him, the blackness stands like a wall. Ahead a stone staircase leads upward, spiraling out of sight. The staircase is strange however. Unlike the gray and black stone he has seen so far, the staircase is a riot of color. Stones of all sorts are put together, making each staircase a veritable rainbow of dazzling brightness.
Oddly, the walls are plain gray.
"Stairs up," Tchokito states aloud, for the benefit of those behind him. Though given his experience in the dark, he is not certain they will hear him.
After reassuring himself that Cheok is still with him and well, the witch casts a wary eye over the stairs, suspicious of traps hiding amongst the varicolored stones.
After looking things over he warily advances, going up a few steps (after testing them with his stick) before pausing to make certain the others get through the blackness as well.
Feeling certain that the colorful staircase must hide a trap of some sort, Tchokito examines them for some sort of pattern or other clue as to how to safely bypass the danger. But in spite of his close inspection he sees no hint as to the true nature of the trap.
Then the plainness of the walls draws his attention. "Might the construct simply climb the walls whent it needs to get up and down?" he muses, examining them for signs of any such passage.
He muses for a bit on the practicality of flight (it looks too narrow for his wings, not to mention his companions would be stranded below) and his spells (web is the only one that might help with avoiding touching the stairs, and moving through the sticky threads while avoiding the ground would be... difficult), but finds no good solutions there. He considers sending Cheok above to search for an off switch or the like--given the construct probably descends from above any such thing would be on the upper side rather than the lower--but immediately decides that it is far too risky.
Which leaves him... what, precisely? To poke the stairs with his stick? Well... it is better than stepping on them, maybe.
The tengu checks to see if his companions have come through yet, then warily approaches the stairs. He stands off to the side as best he can, reaches out as far as possible, and prods a random stair step with the stick.
Tchokito looks at the walls and finds they are smooth and unmarred, the same for the ceiling. Unless the construct can fly (and if so, why have stairs at all?) there must be some safe passage along the tightly coiled stairwell.
Ah, the humble stick. The bards rarely talked about it, and the stores tended to linger on magical swords and mighty steeds but how many adventurers and heroes had been saved by a stick? And so it was again.
Tchokito prodded a stair at random, keeping a wary eye for dangers, literally standing on his toes. On his shoulder Cheok kept a lookout at well, eyes sharp in the gloom. At his touch, the yellow bit of stair depressed slightly, obviously activating some mechanism. There was a click, a clack and then the entire staircase flattened to a smooth slide, like a child's toy. Worse, it also included the landing which meant Tchokito lost his balance, fell tot he floor and rolled back through the abyss into the cold room.
Both tengu and raven rolled across the floor in a ball of feathers and squawking, as they were unceremoniously dumped backwards. When they finally come to a halt Cheok flies off, cawing loudly, while Tchokito blinks and finds himself looking up at a very confused Hjalte and Oddný . Eliyyah having wandered off to explore the room.
"Was that...part of the way forward?" Oddný says, concern mixed with a bit of a smile.
Tchokito gets back to his feet with as much dignity as he can muster.
"The way forward is trapped, of course," he replies to Oddný. "Fortunately non-lethally... though were this room still freezing, that would be different."
He turns back to the darkness. "There must be a way past the trap, however... the difficulty is in thinking like an insane construct."
He taps a talon to his beak thoughtfully. "Hmmm... give me a moment longer."
The tengu plunges back through the darkness and again considers the stairs. Perhaps there was a single color repeated on each stair? That might indicate a safe color. The other option seemed to be a sequence of colors, so he looks for that as well.
Last, he considers the possibility that it is shape rather than color that is the true sign of safety here, and looks for any oddities in the shape of the stair stones.
Oddný hides a smile and helps the tengu up while saying, "Want us to come with you or should we construct a net to catch you?"
For now Tchokito heads in alone, since until he solves it, no one will be helped by dumping everyone down the slide. Having Hjalte land on top of him is not the witch's idea of fun. Cheok of course comes along, riding his shoulder.
Together they eye the stairs, looking for some sort of pattern or sequence. Tchokito discovered long ago that he had slightly better color vision then most humans, perhaps a legacy of some avian ancestor because Cheok's world was a riot of colors and shades he could only imagine. The raven was often puzzled when he remarked on a leaf or rock that, to Tchokito, just seemed brown or gray.
Still, this was more a question of patterns then colors pre se.
One thing became clear quickly. Every stair had the same set of colors, just in different orders. The normal basic spectrum of natural hues and colors of the natural world, the ones revealed by prisms.
Curious.
Tchokito caws a laugh at Oddný's comment. "I think I should go alone until I have a safe way up. Tengu bones are a bit brittle to be having Ulfen piled on top of me."
he narrows his eyes slightly as he notes the repeating spectrum once after examining the stairs. "It couldn't be so simple, could it?" he murmurs, half to Cheok and half to himself. "Follow the spectrum? Red, orange, yellow..."
Cautiously he prods the red step on the first stair with his stick, and if that seems safe enough, starts following along the spectrum with each stair.
There were few objective ways to order colors. Nature tended to just splash them around with little rhyme or reason, endless shades blurring into each other past human sight. Except in one way. In the rainbow (or the prism) which unlocked light, they were distinct, sharp bars of colors always in the exact same order. Perhaps such a thing appealed to a construct obsessed with lighthouses and light? It would, at least, be aware of them and it did make a handy code.
If not a very secure one.
Carefully Tchokito tested the red stair. It shifted slightly under the stick but nothing happened. No slide, no secondary trap. The same with orange and by yellow, the tengu witch was sure he had it. At his side Cheok caws with joy but also comments, "Human sight is so limited. There are colors before red, you know. And after violet."
In short order, after explaining the careful pattern, Tchokito leads his little squad up the colorful stairs. Oddný seems impressed and asks about prisms but Hjalte just shrugs at the explanation. Still, the warrior is careful to not misstep. Tchokito worries about Eliyyah at first, since convincing the man of danger is very difficult. That is until the crazy cleric recites something.
"From the mingled strength of shade and light
A new creation rises to my sight,
Such heav'nly figures from his pencil flow,
So warm with light his blended colors glow.
And then he carefully follows the pattern like everyone else.
Fair enough. The witch leads the way up the stairs, cycling through the spectrum as they go until they reach a doorway. No black abyss here, just a normal entryway, lacking a door. Tchokito sees little sign of passage here. Perhaps few, if any, other groups came this way?
The doorway is a halo of gray mist however, a pulsing wall of sheer fog. Like that outside but thicker and denser, the moisture wetting his tounge from five strides away. Curling tentacles reach out into the stairwell, groping like fingers.
'Well, this is where they make the fog, I guess?"Oddný says. "I wonder how. Where does fog come from anyway? Normal fog, I mean."
Carefully Tchokito tested the red stair. It shifted slightly under the stick but nothing happened. No slide, no secondary trap. The same with orange and by yellow, the tengu witch was sure he had it. At his side Cheok caws with joy but also comments, "Human sight is so limited. There are colors before red, you know. And after violet."
"Truly?" Tchokito asks, surprised. "You can see beyond in both directions? Was this always so?"
The tengu relaxes just a little when the entire group makes it up the stairs without incident--particularly Eliyyah. He is never quite certain how well the cleric follows what goes on around him, for all that he knows the man hides more beneath the surface than first appears.
Not that such is uncommon among people, in his experience. Few thinking beings bear their entire self for all to see.
With everyone behind him at another entrance, Tchokito takes some time to consider the fog.
"The same place as other clouds," he idly comments in answer to Oddný's question as he swiftly tilts his head to one side, considering the fog. "Steam in reverse, in a way. There is water in the air, and under the right conditions it forms into droplets small enough to float. Ice magic sometimes causes these conditions..."
He pauses, tilting his head the other way. "Perhaps that is somehow related to the trap below?"
Shrugging his thin shoulders, the witch casts a simple light spell over his stick and tosses it into the fog, dark eyes watching to see if there is a reaction beyond the normal.
"Of course."[/b] Cheok says, fluttering his wings. [i]"I know you are not really a human, but you act like it so often. Eagles have the best and can see even more colors. of course they are idiots but still." Cheok's casual dismissal of other bird species is, at least, unchanged.
Oddný seems confused, "Water in air?" She waves her hand around, "I don't feel any water. I mean, the fog is water, sure. But like normal air? How does that work?"
"The Gods." Hjalte intones, "The gods do such things. Hjalte not bother with them. The world is strange." True enough.
Tchokito lights his stick and tosses it into the fog. It clatters to the floor loudly on the wet stone floor. Streams of light dance this way and that, caught by tendrils of fog. With the slightly improved lighting, the witch can see strange rounded objects dotting the room. As well as a large swirling something along one wall. An archway?
There is no other sound and yet....Tchokito has a feeling he is being watched.
When first they had entered the lighthouse, Tchokito had mostly anticipated traps, and perhaps some constructs.
After the first floor? He was wary of all kinds of dangers. Who knew what could be hiding in the mists?
"The gods made the world comprehensible," he comments absent-mindedly, his reflexive counter to Hjalte's far-from-uncommon line of thinking.
But his attention is focused on the room ahead. Sight is obviously of less use than usual, so he focuses more on hearing, straining for sounds of motion.
Warily he moves forward into the room, keeping an eye out as best he can for traps, aiming to pick up the stick and then examine one of the round objects.
The damp air fills Tchokito's nose and mouth as he proceeds forward, eyes straining through the foggy gloom. He sees nothing out of the ordinary and the floor seems one solid piece. Strange graven images seem to be cut into the walls but from his current vantage he can make nothing out of it. It does not seem Azlant though.
Tchokito approaches one of the strange round shapes and quickly realizes it is the top of the freezing pillars from below. Coldness radiates from the humped dome of metal, and Tchokito can actually see vapor forming along the frigid and pitted surface. His guesses to Oddný seems to have been correct, it was the icy pillars being used to make the fog. The entire downstairs was perhaps just a staging area, a side effect of the required cold temperatures?
Tchokito is just about to turn when he hears voices above his head, swooping around the high ceiling. Birds? The witch looks up and sees vague shapes flitting around, hidden by the mist. No, not hidden by the fog but part of it. Cloudy, misty humanoid shapes, coiling and uncoiling out of the air. Some sort of air elemental!
They are talking but for the movement seem content to fly about, this way and that, in strange patterns.
Tchokito glances toward a wall and sees a strange arch built out of the wall. It isn't a doorway and there are no stairs, just more clouds filling the space. A bit of a breeze blows out of it, smelling of rain and thunderstorms.
Tchokito freezes and watches the elementals as best he can for a few moments, then warily turns to those following him. "There are air elementals here," he warns, "Likely they are bound here as part of generating and maintaining the fog. So far they seem non-hostile... but they may be forced to fight if we interfere with the mechanisms here."
He sighs. "It would be easier if I knew their tongue," he laments, "But perhaps I may find a way to break their bindings, if they are bound."
Cautiously he casts detect magic and starts looking about, searching for signs of extraplanar bindings he might be able to unravel.
Indeed. Elementals rarely freely existed on the Material Plane. In fact simply being stuck here was often a mental (and sometime physical) pain for such creatures. Tchokito was virtually certain these were bound here, probably against their will, in order to help create and maintain the rolling banks of mist. It followed that releasing them would be both kinder and more effective then fighting them. Looking to break planar chains, the witch can't help but think Fej would be proud of him.
The tengu quickly finds two such links, twists of arcane magic in the fabric. One leads from the darting elementals to the tops of the freezing pillars. This acts like a leash, like someone tying a mule to a mill wheel. Another chain leads back into the mist to the heavy archway, the binding that holds them to this Plane.
Stepping back, Tchokito quickly realizes that the archway is a crude planar gate. Heavy stones rise in an arch from floor to ceiling, filled with heavy fog. Peering at it, tchokito guesses it is somehow importing clouds and vapors from the Plane of Air (or perhaps Water). The gate itself is too simple to allow passage of people or anything bigger then a drop of water, but it is admirable for this purpose. It is also the anchor for the binding spell. It's a rather crude job, but effective.
Destroying the anchor would break the binding but might also let in an unstoppable tsunami of water from the other Plane.
Oddný stares at the arch and says, "Do we go through or something?"
Tchokito caws a brief laugh. "Only if you can both breathe water and fly. I am not quite certain if it leads to the Plane of Air or Water."
He pauses a moment. "Perhaps both? Or alternating? That might..."
The tengu shakes the thought off. "Regardless, we could not pass through, fortunately. But if we are to disable the fog, we must disable this... *preferably* without simply destroying it and possibly opening a tear between the planes. Give me a moment... and keep an eye upward, if you would please. The elementals may be bound to protect it."
Warily he approaches the gate, feeling Cheok's excitement at drawing near this curious piece of magic. Tchokito wonders, briefly, if his raven friends would enjoy the Plane of Air. Perhaps someday they might travel there? But now was not the time for such thoughts.
He examines the gate more closely, searching for the details of its enchantment. From his studies into the ancient traditions of the Jinx Eaters he knew more of unraveling magics than most--though admittedly the Jinx Eater tradition was more focused on hostile magics being directed at you in the heat of battle than old enchantments. Still, he had hope to spot some weakness in the enchantment, a loose thread in the binding, something he could tug on (or dispel) to start to unravel the magic without the risks of physical destruction.
It is a bit difficult to focus on strings of strange magic while standing in a clammy misty room with wraith-like elementals flying overhead. Not to mention the curious eyes of Oddný and Hjalte. Luckily Eliyyah gets bored easily or he'd have even more pressure.
Tchokito soon discovers his options.
First, they could physically destroy the archway. It would definitively break the binding but probably result in a Planar tear. Probably undesirable.
Tchokito could break the bond itself, with his magical abilities. This would free the elementals, but doing so would cause them to attack. Breaking the bonds would not take long, but Hjalte and Oddný would probably need to fight the elementals for a little while.
Thirdly, they could attack the elementals themselves. They would have the element of surprise on the so-far, unsuspecting beings.
Lastly, Tchokito could try and eat the arcane summoning bond. Tchokito had no idea what would happen to him, but he doubts the construct placed a command to prevent something as outlandish as that. odds were, the elementals would go about their business until free and then vanish. But the personal risk was quite high. It was one thing to eat a hasty jinx in the middle of combat, quite another to gorge on a complicated summoning spell.
Tchokito had always taken a dim view of binding elementals. Perhaps they were not intelligences of the same sort as flesh-and-blood mortals, but they *were* still free-willed beings, and hence binding them an act of slavery.
And to say he held negative feelings towards slavery was an understatement.
Hence, any action he took here would be done with an eye towards freeing the elementals as well as unraveling the portal. He could probably dispel the enchantment, but that would no doubt force the elementals to attack, and Tchokito could imagine how well "fight the elementals but don't kill them" would go over with his companions.
All of this thought was to distract him from the decision he'd already made.
The truth of Jinx Eaters was that they were skilled in absorbing magics directed at them harmlessly. While this did give some unusual insights into unraveling enchantments and the like, nowhere in the stories he'd heard or the records he'd been able to find had he found a credible account of Jinx Eating being applied to a static enchantment.
This wasn't *why* he was going to try, but it was a nice thought that, should he survive the experience, he would likely have achieved a first in the tradition.
There was a reason for this. First was that a spell directed at you already had a connection to you, making it easy to redirect just slightly. But the greater issue was one of power. A spell cast in anger had only so much power behind it. There was simply no time in the heat of combat to gather together vast amounts of energy for a spell, so there was an upper limit to how much could be put into an attack.
For an enchantment like this, days or weeks of gradually infusing arcane energies into the archway had likely taken place. It would be the difference between drinking a glass of water and a lake.
The tengu cannot help but glance over at Cheok. The raven would no doubt be excited at the idea of drinking a lake of arcane power, in spite of also understanding the risks. But at the same time, they were partners, now more than ever after what had happened. And so Tchokito would not hide his plan from his familiar.
First he turns to Hjalte and Oddný. "I am going to attempt to unravel the magic on the gateway in a way that will not attract the attention of the elementals. If I fail it is likely to draw their attention. I would prefer not to kill them if possible--they are bound against their will, and would likely prefer simply to return to their home plane. But..." He sighs. "...do not risk yourselves overmuch for their sake if the need arises."
Then he turns to Cheok and gives him a brief description of what he is about to do. "Simply unraveling the enchantment the conventional way would force the elementals to attack. So I am going to attempt something unconventional. I will eat the relevant portions of the enchantment first, before unraveling the rest. It will be dangerous, Cheok, so I leave to you to decide how close you wish to perch."
Once his familiar has made his choice, Tchokito approaches the archway. Carefully identifying the portions he wishes to target, he bends all his power and knowledge towards the task of grasping the weave of magic and pulling the desired threads into himself... preferably without drawing the entire tapestry into him, to strain his metaphor.
"Dangerous."[/b] Cheok replies in agreement, understanding the weight. [i]"But profitable, perhaps." His aura glints brightly in the mist, like a passing gleam of sunlight. "I will stay close."[/b] The bird glides over to his shoulder, gripping with sharp talons. The pressure oddly comforting, a connection to the real.
Oddný and Hjalte give Tchokito strange looks, obviously quite unsure what the tengu means but understanding the gravity. The big man claps him on the shoulder while the huntress contents herself with concern but mutters, "Say something if we can help."
Eliyyah, who has wondered back over gives Tchokito a long look and says, "Felix ille tamen corvo quoque rarior albo."
With that, Tchokito plunges into the unseen world that hides behind the world, that tapestry of magic that binds this Plane together and part of a much greater whole. It was a place where metaphor and illusion meant as much, or more, then anything else. The witch closes his eyes, concentrates, and then opens them again.
The world is around him and yet...so much more. Here, the link binding the elementals is a burning chain of light, bright enough to blind, surging with arcane power. It is strong and old, linking these airy beings to this mud-ridden Plane. They strain at it, even as they fly about their tasks, but to no avail. No will can break such a binding. From the inside.
Carefully Tchokito approaches it (although Oddný and Hjalte could not it), eyeing it. The tengu can feel the power radiating off the link, hot to his mind. He sends a final thought to Cheok and then, very deliberately, places himself in the midst of it.
Bright light, heat like a noon sun, a roar in his ears. The white chain passes clear through the jinxeater, a spear rammed through a soldier. But it doesn't hurt much...yet. Above him the elementals stop their assigned tasks, pausing as if in thought. Then, as one, they draw up above him, vague forms pointing down, like a panel of judges watching a curious witness. Tchokito can see nothing but wisps of fog, but they seem...curious. Hopeful?
The chain surges and the witch turns back to his task. Slowly, carefully, he begins to open himself up to the surging power. It is a delicate process, a balancing act. On one hand, going too fast would burn him up, but going too slow would merely prolong the agony. He must ride it, like a barbarian mastering a wild horse, or a ship on a stormy sea. The power rises, the pain growing as Tchokito wills more and mroe of it into him. He can sense his is slipping, losing control. White light. The pain increases, the chain starts to vibrate with yet more power, protective reserves activated. In this space, his skin starts to burn, his feathers smoldering, his senses nothing but white.
It was too much, he was too small, the chain too great. He starts to panic, trying to withdraw but it was too late, the power was engulfing him. A storm, a whirlpool, a-
Then from behind he gets a sense.
[i]Let us It says, voice like that of a gentle breeze, cooling yet strong. Let us help you. Behind him the elementals press close, reaching out with cloud-like hands, feeling the chain, grasping at it. It is weaker behind him, pitted and thin, like a chain left in seawater for decades.
With no other choice and unable to speak Tchkito nods his head, a simple gesture. But in this place it is as good as an oath. As one the elemental heave on the chain, putting centuries of hate and anger behind their pulls. Tchokito feels the chain jerk, twist and then snap. The magic rebounds, a pulse and then it is gone.
The pain fades, the light subsiding. The elementals let out a long sigh, like a summer's breeze and then fade away. One lingers slightly longer, holding up a hand. Thank you.. and then is gone.
Looking down at himself, Tchokito can see he is outlined in power, raw magic clings to him. Looking at that inner well, so lately changed, he can sense new reserves, pools suddenly overfull. He fills like a glass filled to the rim, just shy of spilling. Tipping out only a little is impossible, like handling an overfull wineskin.
[ooc] Basically, you are overclocked! For the next 24 hours, you cannot cast a cantrip or 1 level spell, but you can cast one extra 3rd level spell[ooc]
Oddný speaks and his vision clears. "Well, did it work? The elementals are gone and the fog is fading."
Tchokito finds himself on his knees, panting as if he had run for miles. As a mortal, his body, mind, and soul were connected, so even though his body had been only a small participant in his attempt, it still echoed the exhaustion and almost-pain he felt inwardly in spite of that.
Not that his body had escaped entirely unscathed, he feels... but the strange, over-full sensation from within him seems the most dangerous of the aftereffects. Cautiously he gets to his feet, moving slowly as if a sudden misstep would burst his inner reservoirs or some such.
Only after he has caught his breath and gotten on his feet does he process what has happened around him. Finally the tengu's mind catches up with Oddný's question.
"Yes... it worked, though it was a near thing," he murmurs, looking around him.
A sudden thought leads Tchokito to look at Cheok, to see if his familiar had suffered at all from their connection or aught else. ONce reassured that the raven is well he looks around again.
"Now that the fog is thinning, we would be wise to take a close look at this room before moving on."
Following his own advice, he examines the room for signs of anything once hidden in the mists.
Cheok chirps and flutters around Tchokito once or twice, bright eyes scanning his friend. Finally he lands nearby and says, "I don't think it'll last." His voice is a mix of relief and envy.
Around them the fog dissipates very quickly, and the breeze the witch felt dies away. The room comes into view, vague outlines becoming visible shapes, and then definable objects. Thankfully, there are no surprises.
The room's floor is dotted with the top of the pillars from down below, still freezing cold. Tchokito guesses it would take hours to warm them. Beside them the archway still stands but the portal is dim and dark. Tchokito is unsure if the planar connection is totally destroyed but he doubts it'll last much longer. The elemental connection was a key part of the rift, its main purpose. Without it, the spell will start withering away, the universe's natural tendency to close gaps coming to the fore.
There are no sign of the elementals.
On the far wall another doorway leads to a staircase leading upward.
Hjalte looks at it, look at Tchokito and then says, "Why birdman not just lead way out in first place? Why bother with spell?"
"I'm glad for your concern," Tchokito replies to his familiar, but his sarcasm is tempered by the glint of humor in his dark eyes. "I'd been half expecting you to try getting a sip for yourself... and I am glad, after what I went through, that you did not."
The tengu relaxes just slightly when the room is revealed in full. No murderous monsters or deadly traps, just... empty, now, save for the frigid pillar caps.
He hesitates at Hjalte's question. "We would have had to deal with it sooner or later," Tchokito answers, "And it is possible the elementals would have been bound to attack us should we try to climb the stairs."
After another pause, he adds, "...and I little like to leave thinking beings enslaved when I have the power to free them."
Before anyone else can think too hard about the implications of that admission Tchokito starts walking towards the stairs. "Now, we see what further danger awaits us before we can reach the top. Ending the fog might allow us to sail away again, but I would not trust there to not be a final attempt to force us to remain as long as the above still goes about its work."
Hjalte shrugs at the idea of freeing the elementals, obviously unmoved by the sentiment. Tchokito reminds himself that the hulking Ulfen is a pirate after all. Oddný on the other hand nods, "That seems the right thing to do. No one should be chained like that."
Still feeling full to bursting, Tchokito leads the way across the pillar studded room toward the stairs. The stone is wet from the departed mist, the floor slippery. Curls of cold mist rise from the freezing domes, but are easily avoided. Cheok flutters near Tchokito's head, surveying his friend closely as if expecting random arcane bolts to start flying any moment. Tchokito is unsure if this would be greeted with dismay or joy by his comrade.
The stairs are simple stone, lacking any traps or sign. Clearly, by this stage, the construct expected any intruders to be long dead. However, as they start to climb, a strange noise fills the air. A rumbling grinding sound of wheels and cogs, or rolling weights. It reminds Tchokito of a water-wheel driven flour mill, that constant thudding. The grumble of machinery grows in intensity as they climb, throbbing in the air. The creak of wood, the twang of iron, the snap of ropes. What was going on up here?
The stairway this time, when reaching the next landing, doesn't end. There is a landing with a door leading into the next room, while the staircase keeps rising up. Perhaps the construct did not wish to waste time crossing the room every time they descended here?
Tchokito peeked into the opened room.
It is a vast round space. In the center is a large cluster of weights and chains, a complicated set of machines around a steel pillar driven into the ceiling. The entire apparatus is being turned by two plodding, animal-like shapes, harnessed like oxen. They are rust red and stutter stepped. Constructs! They have worn the stone floor perfectly smooth, tracing out a worn circuit as they slowly push the grinding mechanism. They must be turning the light above. They must be close to the top!
Hjalte glances at the unswerving machines. "Birdman free them, too?"
Tchokito hesitates a moment, looking them over. Most constructs were mindless automata, to whom freedom was meaningless. Were these such? What he had seen thus far suggested they might be, but... chaining thinking beings to such a task would be cruel beyond reason... wouldn't it?
"I am not certain these constructs *can* be freed," he says aloud, his feathers ruffling outward slightly as he realizes he'd again been lost in thought. "Unless they were made for more than this job, it would be pointlessly cruel to build them with self-awareness."
The tengu ponders a moment longer, then sighs. "We may be best served by simply continuing on. Once the danger above is dealt with, we can return here and determine if there is anything to be done for these constructs."
In spite of saying this, however, he gives the room one last look over. Were the constructs more than they seemed? Was there an advantage to manipulating the machinery here before going on?
Tchokito gives the constructs a long, final look. They do not react, simply plod on in an unending circle, feet tramping on smoothed stone. Chains rattle, gears grind, unseen wheels turn with great force. There is a toiling, miserable quality to the room, that the witch can't quite put his finger on. They are just machines and yet....they seem so tired.
One thing seems clear. The scale is large. The center capstan the constructs is turning is larger then a farmer's hut, probably over twenty feet wide. Breaking the machine would require considerable force and effort. Would the construct defend it? Did they have the capability? On the other hand, perhaps disabling the turning lighthouse would deprive his ultimate foe of some power? It was hard to say.
Tchokito hesitates for one moment longer before turning towards the stairs up. "We will return here after we are finished above."
Even as he starts walking, the tengu is doubting himself. Did he choose this simply because they were constructs, and he was used to thinking of constructs as mindless? Would it have been better to disable the mechanism here rather than rushing to avoid giving the construct above more time to prepare?
Would they be able to return this way and set them free, or was he giving up their only chance to do so?
He had no way of knowing for certain now, and likely would still have some of these questions even after whatever awaited them above.
As Tchoktio internally struggles with this, he sees Eliyyah come up close. Surprised, for the slightly madman usually keeps to hismelf, the tengu turns toward the wild-looking cleric.
"The lion who lives a life of compassion will receive it." He said, paused and then shrugged.
Whatever that meant.
Together they ventured onward, Tchokito leading the way. If the construct below had been a guide, this was finally the top of the lighthouse and presumably the lair of the mad machine that created and operated this place. Behind them the dull grind of the turning mechanism grew somewhat quieter as they climbed the stairs. Tchokito checked for traps but found none, which did not surprise him. Clearly no intruder was expected to make it this far. The witch was slightly surprised the destruction of the elemental bond had not drawn their enemy but, then again, he was probably mad.
Well, as mad as a machine could be.
As they climb the stairs, Tchokito feels a change around him. Not in temperature, the spiraling staircase is cool and rather pleasant. No, it is much deeper then that, and more unsettling. A sense of power, of magic...of raw arcane energy. All around them, and growing more intense with each step, is a building pressure of magic. It's like stepping in the path of a oncoming storm. Vast and swirling. Cheok squawks at his side, sensing it too, and their feathers start to stand on end.
Slowly, they see a landing ahead. It is bathed in a rippling white light, like that cast off water. Shifting and dancing across the dull gray stone. Even a few stairs away, Tchokito can feel the raw power and, combined with his already rather overstuffed soul, it makes his stomach churn painfully.
The tengu hesitates as he feels the power ahead. Had he chosen wrong? Did the machinery below somehow allow the construct to tap the power of the... quaesitor, as Eliyyah had called it? Was that what the cleric had been getting at with his poetic statement?
At this point it seems unwise to turn around, however. There may be no traps here on these stairs, but Tchokito can scarcely believe the construct would be unaware of them this close to the top. Perhaps the construct had been altered by the raw power here?
He is about to dismiss the thought as unimportant when he realizes it did matter--if this was simply a construct taking its orders too far, it might be possible to convince it that it was acting contrary to its purpose. If the eldritch energies here had warped its 'thinking', however, such an attempt might be doomed from the start.
The combination of the power in the air and the energies he had absorbed earlier might be... unfortunate, but he had no good way to burn off his excess nor ward himself against what was ahead.
So... push on, then?
Trying to project an aura of confidence that he did not feel, the jinx eater cautiously climbs up the last few steps. He does not crouch down and hide, but neither does he announce his presence. If the construct is not paying attention, perhaps he could examine the room for a moment before it noticed them. If it was, everything he could do to not appear an enemy might well open possibilities that would otherwise be closed.
The landing is bright with shifting white light and Tchokito has to consciously prevent his eyes from squinting shut. It bathed the witch like a sunrise, casting deep shadows behind. Cheok, quiet for once, flew up and landed on his shoulder, blinking in the brightness.
At this range, one thing was clear to the tengu. This was not mere light or even just primal magic. Now, feeling it play across his body he could identify it, discern it. This was was Positive Energy, that primordial soup from which all life and creation flowed. Tchokito knew that while it had the power to heal, re-make, and even resurrect the dead, it could be very dangerous. Indeed, most lifeforms were simply incinerated if they stepped into that Plane. Tchokito did not feel this light was as potent as that, but if he moved any closer, bad things might start happening.
So instead of stepping closer, he took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the harsh glare. Slowly the room came into a focus and, in a tower full of strange rooms, this may have been the most unusual.
It was a round stone room, smaller then the others. This made sense for the entire lighthouse had been a slowly tapering tower and surely they were near the top. The walls were cold sheer stone, unadorned and unbroken except for one large window opposite the stair landing. The same window Cheok nearly got cooked in front of during his initial flight.
Mounted on an iron track that circled the room was a large mirror, taller then Tchokito was, gleaming like a diamond. Held in an iron cage-like holder, it slowly rotated along the track, clearly driven by the plodding constructs below. Creaking, it rolled across the floor but it seemed to do little else. It was moving at a slow walk.
In the center of the room was a plinth topped with the same type of basin Tchokito recalled from the temple upon the stone island. This one seemed more active however, the light pouring out of the top like steam. occasionally gouts of sheer energy arced up, jumping like a fish, before crashing back down silently.
Next to it, hunched over it, was an extremely strange construct.
It was vaguely humanoid, in that it was taller then it was wide but that was about where the similarities ended. Instead of arms and legs, the mass hosted dozens of strange appendages of varying sizes. Some were telescoping, others hinged, others covered with strange systems of gears and clockwork parts. Three arms were currently maneuvering around the plinth with darting, sudden movements. From his current location, Tchokito could not see any means of locomotion.
Then, over the quiet grinding of the mirror and the nearly silent hiss of raw magic he heard a voice.
"You should not be here." It was flat, metallic and was speaking Common.
Tchokito is surprised when he recognizes the energy present in the room. Did each of these basins, perhaps, link to a different plane? It did explain the choice to have this lighthouse maintained by a construct... but would long exposure to positive energy alter a construct?
Seeing the construct, he has to wonder if it has altered itself.
The tengu shoves these thoughts aside as he considers a response. If the construct is truly still trying to make the lighthouse useful, perhaps there might be a chance for a peaceful resolution here...
"I had to come. This lighthouse is broken," he states. "Rather than saving lives it is killing them."
An angry squeal erupts from the machine, like two poorly oiled springs under too much weight. An odd scythe-like mandible curls and uncurls but when the machine speaks, it's voice is the same. Flat and without emotion.
"So speaks the aberration."
Silence reigns for a long moment. Oddný comes up behind and whispers, "Should I put an arrow in it? It doesn't seem to have any shield." She squints against the bright light, "But is that magic going to hurt us?"
"Your arrival is unwanted." The construct says again, arms still focused over the pedestal. "The portal is unsteady and requires my concentration." Another jerky pause, "The Lighthouse's defense are part of it's function. Your disruption now is evidence of this fact. In fact, it confirms the idea that such defenses should have been made stronger not weaker."
There is another flare of light from the plinth, and a faint ringing. Meanwhile the mirror grinds onward, slowly reaching the window. As it crosses, suddenly the bowl of light flashes brightly, filling the room with a blinding streak. A beam of light streams out of the bowl, through the the mirror and out of the lighthouse. In an instant it fades again, and the mirror rolls onward, driven by the constructs below.
"Stay back for now," Tchokito whispers back to Oddný, then turns to the construct.
"What you have done to this lighthouse is the aberration. Lighthouses are built to save lives by warning of dangers and leading ships to safe ports. Yet this one becalms ships and kills any who would come to see what the problem is. If someone were to avoid coming up here they would, if they were lucky, slowly be able to escape the area by rowing, or perhaps the action of the waves. If unlucky they would slowly starve to death."
"So have you made a symbol of safety into a place of danger and death. Or was this not your intention?"