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River shrinks back against the walls as the other elen appear and start discussing in loud voices. If it was an attempt at stealth it fails rather badly - an elen as pale as she is will always be noticeable in the dark. Outside among the snow her white hair would blend in perfectly but down here...
Despite her apparent reticence to speak it is easy to see that River is poised for confrontation - her balance perfect as her eyes flit across everyone in the conversation.
Once fire is mentioned she twists one slender wrist and water wells up into an orb that floats above her outstretched palm.
"River." She says simply. "We help. Cauldron Temple is wrong. We should stop it."
The remaining pathway takes you down a narrow corridor. To either side are shelves carved into the very obsidian of the walls. All these shelves lie empty; the shattered remains of urns upon the floor tell the story.
The area is primed for evil magicks. You wonder if the entity behind this is making some kind of final attack soon.
Samen scoffs at the simple characterization, but says nothing. In another life, he would take the time to debate the philosophical nature of differing viewpoints and their reflections on morality, but this is neither the time, place, nor audience for such a discussion.
Instead, he nods at the genuine offer of assistance. "Very well. If your mind is weak, stay close to me. This form should offer some protection, while it lasts."
Samen points out the telltale signs of the evil magic symbols as they go down the passage, casually regaling origin stories of each vile curse along the way.
After the narrow corridor, there is a wider space, to most eyes it appears to be populated by the graven images of ancient kings.
Your heart knows better. This is a hall dedicated to the remembrance of paladins and knights. For a moment, you receive a clear, ringing vision of these Knights of old chanting for a newly anointed one of their order, one they call The BrightBlade! The BrightBlade!
Based on the 40...
One thing that worries you more than the rest--- You feel at a distinct disadvantage here. There are innumerable signs of dulled senses and slowed reactions scattered throughout the rest of the curse. Even with the party's many protections, you think any combat you run into down here would result in the Cauldron Lady's agents acting first. You would need to see into the future (or something similar) to counteract this.
Gabe considers River's straightforward statements and nods at the simplicity. "Agreed."
In the room with the smashed pottery, Gabe takes out the mostly complete piece from the last time they were in a room like this to see if there's any reaction.
Aislings teachings were focused more on the Lore than on practical knowledge of divine magics.
And his focus right now is on stealth and traps rather than non-active symbols. He takes the point, counting on his quick reflexes to get him out of traps or other trouble. And his movement might go unnoticed with the clamor behind him.
Samen seems vexed. "Volc! I miss Abnaki sometimes. I don't suppose any of you have time magic or preternatural observational skills? I can't feel it, but these curses, here, here, and over here, should be messing with our reaction times and ability to perceive. I can only assume they are functioning as intended, masking their own effects. Whoever built this web was no armature."
"Only when it comes to the powers of the Dark," Benedetto answers, looking about warily. "I could try calling upon the Phoenix and just cutting the runes, but that may well trigger the effects worse than leaving them alone."
Gabe considers River's straightforward statements and nods at the simplicity. "Agreed."
In the room with the smashed pottery, Gabe takes out the mostly complete piece from the last time they were in a room like this to see if there's any reaction.
You get a vague feeling that whatever spirit or energy that lies trapped within this shard, it hates those aligned with the Temple, and could possibly give you an edge of foresight right before a combat begins. You would have to shatter the pottery and call his name...Baccio?
Samen seems vexed. "Volc! I miss Abnaki sometimes. I don't suppose any of you have time magic or preternatural observational skills? I can't feel it, but these curses, here, here, and over here, should be messing with our reaction times and ability to perceive. I can only assume they are functioning as intended, masking their own effects. Whoever built this web was no armature."
"Do not name those of The Prince!" hisses a shadow from the point of the group.
+4 if it's a trap, +3 (cumulative) to avoid surprise
Gabe turns the pottery in his hand, keeping it available in case the situation turns bad. "Do you know the name Abnaki as The Prince? What happened while we were away..." Gabe shakes his head as he moves to the enveloping embrace of the shadows to twin Aisling moving forward.
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"Curious. He was our companion until he ascended... or descended... or maybe it was more of a lateral move to godhood. His domain is self declaration. If he wanted a result, reality would bend around him to accommodate. When we have a chance, please explain how you know of him."
There is one magical trap you find along the way; like a spider's web, any vibration will attract the attention of those nearby.
Gabe slows his breathing and embraces his shadow-self; Aisling calls upon the stealth of the Raven; and Benedetto whispers a prayer to the Phoenix while anchoring the others as you all manipulate the fine threads of the spell, keeping the tension constant...
and with a faint pling, you are through the last barrier.
The hallway opens into a grand ballroom or feasting hall, adorned with elegant tapestries (moldering), huge hearths (gone cold), and a long table (empty of food, only dust).
A pretty ifrit girl with strange, triangular scarring around her eyes is moving to your right. She seems to be preparing a small meal.
Using the skills he perfected in their ascent to Uluru, Gabe tethers his hands and feet to the wall through sheer force of will and crawls slowly toward the girl from a higher altitude. What is someone like this doing here? And what kind of meal would one prepare for non-existent guests?
You see highly burnt ashbread on a plate. A small jar of honey sits beside it. She hums a fritan lullaby as she works, seemingly unaware she is doing so.
Benedetto holds up a hand and waves those following back, then retreats to what he hopes is a safe distance to talk.
"Something's off about this situation. That girl working seems too oblivious to everything. Another illusion, maybe?" he whispers to those who've fallen back. "That or someone whose mind's been muddled by whatever forces hold sway here. Either way, it might be best to just wait until she leaves."
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Aisling finds a good spot to observe the girl, close enough to interact with her or attack as needed, but not so close she can observe him breathing down her neck.
The trick is, as always, to trust the camouflage. Not to move when in peripheral sight and to move just as she starts to turn her gaze toward him. It is a subtle dance, but one he perfected over the years. Reading others and thus keeping out of their threat detection was always his slight edge in these kind of situations.
He notices Gabe above and for the first time notices lack of distinctive racial features of elemental people. "What are they?!" he thinks as he goes around the girl leaving space for River and Benedetto to talk with her if they want.
Not the time for idle thought! Focus! he chides himself both for missing it when they first met and now for getting distracted. He will ask at the first opportunity.
He tries to guess what she's doing here and why is she so happy. He also learns her movement pattern and reactions, just in case they need to fight.
She seems to take comfort in the ritual of food preparation. You can also tell, from her careful movements, that her eyesight is fading.
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A presence fills the room before the el arrives. Flames, passion, rage, and devotion all billow into the chamber. From the far door, a tall, pale el enters. He is covered in signs of the Lady: his well-tailored clothes are covered in cauldron stitching; black horns jut from his forehead; and the weapon he wields is a long obsidian spear that radiates magic like a wildfire.
In a soft, controlled voice, he says, "I don't need the honey, Sophia. Sweetness tastes foul to me these days."
Without looking at any of the hidden elens across the way, he continues, "I am called to meditate the Mysteries of the Cauldron Lady. Please leave me for now." The ele looks at him with sympathy, strokes his cheek, and leaves without a word.
After a few moments, the el says casually, "You are skilled, but if you think you can hide so close to the center of my Lady's power, you are mistaken. Show yourselves, and perhaps we can talk. Otherwise..." His grip tightens on the spear, and a faint trickle of blood drips from the obsidian down to the floor.
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Gabe watches the strange ifrit as she leaves the room. Somewhat startled at the casual detection, he gives up the pretense of stealth by 'standing' while still on the wall and executing a graceful flip to land on the ground. He begins pacing as he looks up and up and up at the tall el. "Ibinu? I see you kept your oath to the Cauldron Lady even as this rift across the city was being torn open. Or was it you that helped create the openings for seams to be unraveled?"
"I am keeping my oath, yes."
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Samen steps forward as well, with contempt clear on his face. "Oh, it's you. Good to see you again 'blessed' one, last living of your order. Your god is as charming as ever, and you conform nicely to her methods. I had thought better of you, that you would protect Hearth, but it seems every last one of us volc'ing mortals is prone to divine corruption. Our deaths truly are our greatest mercy."
"Speak plainly and quickly. Tell us why this rancorous web is somehow for the greater good of the city, not just in the service of your mistress, and we may have a momentary piece. For the friendship of Kallik's spirit, I give you this one chance."
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Kallik's ghost would be ripping this husk to shreds...if she weren't bound to a little fungus el skipping merrily toward an inn
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A moment of black silence. His voice nearly a whisper, Ibinu says, "You've managed to throw off all your shackles, though, haven't you? Not all of us are so lucky to have power slopped onto our plate like a buffet. There is no escape from my Lady." As he gestures angrily, you realize, with a chill down your spine, that the spear is attached to his hand - he not gripping it, yet it remains firmly in his palm.
I took the obsidian spear, channeled the fire of Igniscoeli, cleansed the dragon eggs of a wasting sickness, and did my own part to save Hearth from Moon. I am her servant on this mortal plane. Now Her commands are to make Her sole ruler of Hearth, through bloodshed and hate. When it is done, our faith will be pure, and the stronger for it."
You cannot tell if he is angry with you, himself, or the Lady, but rage colors all his words red. "Make your move, if you dare."
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Through gritted teeth of rage, Samen takes a deep breath.
"Your magic is powerful Ibinu. Her magic is powerful. You wield it well. It makes me want to kill you so much. Freedom, in the ultimate sense, may be an illusion, but most of us retain a level of cursory autonomy through this mortal world. I have found a god who delights in and celebrates this. If you serve her as a willing slave, there's not much else to talk about. We must fight.
But, if you wish to be free, I can give you a new and free body and my friend can free your soul. I ... don't think it would work unless you wanted it, though. So blessed one, what do you want?"
Benedetto, sword in hand, stands slightly behind the new companions their... eclectic group had picked up. He wonders at just what these elens have been through, given the conversation they're having.
Not that his and River's own experiences with the madness of the fall of Light and the Moon and all that were all that pleasant.
Given the way the conversation is going, though, he's not relaxing his grip on his sword.
Aisling didn't move from his hiding when this new companion, strange el that could walk on walls jumped down.
He was never directly observed and maybe, just maybe, his disguise was good enough. But he definitely needs to learn how to supress his signature in the weave or in the air. He of all elen should be able to still the air enough to be unnoticed by those relying on scent or vibration.
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River watches the entire conversation with confusion writ large on her fine-boned features. Lacking any sense of what is going on she shifts from foot to foot behind Benedetto until the strangest elen says something that makes her react.
"Cauldron Lady bad!" She declares. "Taking people and hurting them! No bloodshed, no hate! Not the way to make Hearth strong against Moon. You have to stop now."
Her words are unexpected, impassioned and delivered at the exact worst moment possible.
Ibinu's left hand reaches out, saying, "Samen...?" But after a moment's hesitation, the hand drops. Voice suddenly angry, snarling, "He will die before breaks an oath! Death is the price of freedom from the Cauldron Lady!" The obsidian spear raises up, and...
Under his breath, "Good enough for me, Ibinu. Death is only the beginning."
Gabe smashes his pottery on the ground as the crazed paladin screeches. "Baccio! Oracle, aid our efforts!"
---
;
The oppressive atmosphere of sluggish thought
-and body is gone;
an old, tired voice whispers in your ear-
take your chance;
kill this twisted thing!
A dark presence here. Black against black. A dead Gem lives. A dead Gem will kill.
River only has eyes for the nasty cauldron-lady-man as water pools around her in a confusing whirl.
Quick as he can, Gabe concentrates on creating his mental defences. There is a loud clang, like a shield being struck as a translucent disk of mental energy coalesces in front of him. Just as soon at it appears though, he vanishes into thin air.
"No sacrfice save that given willingly!" Benedetto shouts as he darts in. Wanting to flank Ibinu, he goes a little wide and then comes in from behind.
Once in position he thrusts with his rapier.
Samen doesn't move from his position, and simply stares at Ibinu, compassion flooding into his brooding heart like ice water into a sauna. "Rest, Ibinu. You've done enough."
The spear has but one purpose, and one power: destruction. From the spear comes a ray of light so violently hot its white glow leaves green afterimages streaking across your vision.
The spear knows what Ibinu knows - Samen's magicks are unpredictable and dangerous. It streaks toward the human mindmage---
Aisling isn't sure what just happened, but the fight is on.
He tumbles forward, unsure of the reach of that black spear, careful to tumble and dodge into flanking position.
He stabs from the roll under the spear while standing up with the dagger in his off-hand hopefully to surprise the enemy and misalign his armor so others have easier time hitting.
"There is something else here, about 20' behind and to the left of Ibinu!"
if sneak attack works, Ibinu is bewildered (-2 AC vs all, -4 vs Aisling), takes 5 bleeding damage, Aisling gains +5 dodge bonus vs Ibinu only
Is a human there? It is no matter. Death will come now.
New Round!
Ibinu takes a brutal combination of stabs from the front and back, while Samen assaults his mind like a earthquake. Aisling and Benedetto coordinate well, and time their attacks to work in tandem.
You can see his magical defenses, his various cloaks and mantles of protection, fade away, until nothing is left but his bare armor. He is wounded, bruised, but still alive.