Uh you mean the magical portal right? Shhilikiki Saerenrae this is amazing if not unnerving"
"Shikikiiki fllara Saraenrae This is...' Lyra seems at a loss for words, Noticing the slight edge of panic on Violant's face she stops, "you seem unnerved, the portal, was it not correct? Renali, you frown but say it is as it was?"
"What's all the hubbub about. This is my first portal... but it looks perfectly fine to me".
Stom frowns in concern at Violant's reaction to walking through the portal. "Violant, did something happen when you walked through? I feel fine, but do you?"
Stom quickly examines her for obvious signs of injury.
Violant shakes it off. "Alright, if none of you saaw it... I am probably seeing things."
The walls of the tunnel begin to glow a hot, evil red color, and fire seeps out from cracks in the walls, swirling into a storm of swirling flame right in front of Stom. The flames take shape -- that of a dragon's head, three pairs of massive horns framing a scaled crest, crowning a massive face that seemed to dominate the wide tunnel, facing all of you.
The Dragon rears its head back before unleashing a gout of fire that consumes your group.
Encounter Map
Dragon Breath -
Lyra ☘️ -
Samael ☘️ -
Violant ☘️ -
Oppa / Doxie ☘️ -
Stom ☘️ -
Stutter, sputter, breath.
"Okay. I didn't prepare dispel magic if this an avatar. Shit! Lyra! Prayer should work, Samael, striking through runes somewhere might? I don't know how to disable magic traps!"
Violant looks incredulously at Lyra, the Cleric of the group, and Samael, the Rogue. She didn't have the foresight to prepare any dispels today so prayer or thievery will have to do.
Lyra doesn't move fast enough out of the way of the firey dragon breath Lyra
Lyra begins saying a common prayer to Saranrae, asking to bring her holy flame and light to disable the Dahak. "And by her flame." she finishes with a raise of her holy symbol and a bow of her head.
Lyra armed with Violant's knowledge offers a short prayer to Saranrae, in a place so far from the sun and with heat radiating from the very walls, still, for a short period, the area so suffused with hate is briefly blessed with the feeling of a warm summer day spent in bliss.
The aspect of Dahak can't compete with the warmth of Saranrae, a very different kind of heat that dispels the aspect.
The manifestation is gone. Lyra knows it's not permanent -- the whole place still feels wrong, infected with evil. But he can also sense it will take a long time for the power to coalesce once more. Days, if not weeks.
The way ahead is clear, the other portal a soft, beckoning glow.
Violant dashes toward the other end of the portal, away from where they entered. "Notdealingwithtthatagain."
"Lets make haste!" Lyra quickly follows Violant towards the end of the tunnel motioning for the rest of the group to follow.
Stom was shocked to see flames form the image of a dragon. Not just any dragon - the dragon that has been haunting his dreams for years. "Dahak! No!!!" He dives out of the way of the flames, moving more quickly than normal - perhaps from fear.
Stom scurries back to his feet and readies himself for a fight, which Lyra handles for the group. Stom thanks Lyra for dispelling the flames. "Well done, Lyra. I'm glad someone thought quickly. I would have just bashed it!"
As he follows Violant and Lyra, he takes one last look at the walls behind them.
Reflex (Oppa)
Reflex (Doxie)
"Ouch! Ouch! Run Doxie Run. It's too big".
Not paying any attention to what's happening behind them both Oppa and Doxie run full blast away down the portal, screaming in pain.
"Huff! Huff"!
One by one, you leave the tunnel behind, exiting through the far portal. Your vision clouds as you pass through the fog wall, an unsettling feeling as you transition between planes for the briefest of moments, emerging hundreds of miles from Breachill.
As you pass through the portal, you see only flames. Everywhere, flames. Trees, buildings, people, the air itself ablaze. There's no way out. Trapped. A large shape flies overhead, low but still obscured by smoke. It's massive, larger than anything should be.
Suddenly the flames are gone. There's a gateway, in a jungle, tropical plants draped across the stone. Silhouetted figures are enacting a ritual of some sort, tethers of raw arcane power joining them all as they stand in in a ring. As one, they lift their daggers, and in the dream, you feel yourself doing the same. As one, all of them plunged the daggers into their own hearts, and you begin to do the same...
You stumble out of the portal as the dream dagger stabbed home, and you clutch your chest reflexively, breathing heavily
You all see Stom stumble from the portal, clutching his chest and breathing heavily, eyes wide.
Cloying heat and humidity hang heavy in the atmosphere as you find yourselves standing in the middle of an open-air temple, its surrounding stone arches smeared black with recent soot. Charred branches and clumps of roots mark the shape of a garden that once stood here, but the plants and flowers have been ripped up and burned.
In the middle of the ring of stone arches, in the center of a cold pit of charcoal, you see a half-complete wooden pillar that was once capped with a dragon’s visage. The pillar, too, has been put to the flame. What’s left of it stands near a pile of carved rocks and a small sack of cloth.
As the last of you emerges from the archway, the fog wall begins to undulate for several seconds before finally crystallizing back into stone – the only archway in the ring that is solid. It appears to be an exact duplicate of Huntergate carvings as they appeared in the wall below your Citadel. Beyond the open archways elsewhere sprawls a verdant expanse of a tropical jungle.
Emerging from that jungle are twenty or more dark skinned elves, their bows drawn and trained on you, expressions grim.
Samael backs away, and tries to avoid notice.
Violant gulps. Is she the only member of the group who speaks Elven? And of course it's the Ekujae. Could be worse, though.
"I speak Elven, too," Samael whispers to Violant
Lyra whispering along with Samael and Violant, "i think these are the elves Renali was talking about, but uh I cant speak the language"
"okay, good. they don't like outsiders, and O'm not nearly as charismatic as ... literally anyone else here."
Stom enters the other portal, anxious to see where it leads.
Step.
Visions of flame engulf Stom's mind and he clutches at his face and yells. "Out of my head. You're not real!" He looks up to see a massive creature. "No, it can't be!"
Step.
The flames vanish, leaving Stom in the jungle with a group of hooded figures enacting some sort of ritual. In his peripheral vision, Stom sees the two closest figures raise a dagger. Unbidden, his hands grip his clan dagger and do the same, hesitating momentarily inches from his chest.
"What? Where?" His eyes can't focus on the surroundings. The gems on the hilt of his dagger glint as arcane magic flashes. In unison, all of the figures plunge their weapon into their chest. Unable to fight against whatever urges him on, Stom does the same.
Step.
Stom crashes to the ground as he exits the portal. He clutches his chest in imagined pain before he realizes that his hands are empty and the pain isn't real.
Stom does his best to make light of the situation. "Drat! Twisted my ankle on a rock." He stands up and chuckles, but stops quickly as he realizes they aren't alone.
One of the elves, a man set apart from the others by his gold jewelry and bracers, steps forward into the ruined temple, holding his palms open at his sides to show he is unarmed. The rest of the elves relax the draw of their bowstrings and put their weapons at rest, though their arrows remained nocked, ready to fire quickly.
The elf in gold jewelry stops a respectful distance away and gives a very slight bow. “I am Jahsi, of the Leopard Clan,” he says, speaking in accented Taldane. “My mother is of the River Clan.” Speaking with a rich voice in accented Common, soft 'r's and 't's that sounded like 'd's.
Jahsi is a wiry elf with dark brown skin. He wears armor made from iron and wooden plates that have been wrapped in colorful swatches of cloth. The sides of his head are shaved, and the rest of his hair is woven into long, thin braids.
Samael will step forward, juggling cards as a way of showing that no malice is intended.
"I am Samael" he says in Elven, "of the Doulen clan. This is Oppa of the Silk clan and his dragon companion, Doxie. This is Violant of Turra clan. This is Lyra of the Flamecrests. And, this is Stom of the Flinthearts." With each introduction he points in the general direction of his compatriots. "May we speak with you at length?"
The Elf responds likewise in Elven,
Continuing forward getting closer to your group, hands still held out in a non threatening manner.
Violant fiddles with her necklace of holy symbols, responding in Elven.
In common, Samael will say to his compatriots, "They may be able to understand and speak some Common, but, it is good we're able to converse with them in Elven.
"They'd like us to speak to the Elders of their village, Akrival. Apparently we're the first to go through the Huntergate in of years."
Then, in Elven to Jahsi, "We'd be honored to speak with your Elders. While some of us do not know Elven, and may be more equipped to ask and answer questions, I am happy to act as a translator."
Lyra is shocked by the revelation that Samael shares. ”did you say THOUSANDS of years! This is incredible and amazing and terrifying ALL at the same time! Let’s follow them to their clan chief? ”
Nodding to Samael and Violant, noticing the Half-elf for the first time now that he has come closer to the group, speaking in
Jahsi holds his arms stiffly to the side, his muscles straining.
Violant clarifies,
Samael will relate what Jahsi tells us.
With Samael relating what Jahsi says from Elvish into Common, Jahsi continues, "The Darkness is a tale for the Storyteller to speak of, not me,"
Addressing Violant, "Not all of us are accepting of outsiders, I'm sure some of us have that common with our Kyonin relatives, though our histories differ greatly, again that is for the Storyteller to relate,"
"It's Okay Doxie. If what is being translated is true we will receive some succor for our wounds. I'm not sure why Samael and Violant switched things to a language we don't understand... but I trust them and them must have reasons".
He then turns to the Elf. "Well let's go see this Storyteller and then see if we can get some relief. We're both hurting a bit".
Stom tries his best to follow along with Samael's translations. He offers a meek wave to the elves. "The name is Stom." He stays silent other than that introduction, still uncertain of the vision he saw when walking through the portal.
Lyra makes sure her holy symbol is visible and offers her name to the elves.
She follows long as the elves lead the way towards their Storyteller.
Before you guys leave the temple, you get a chance to take in the surroundings. Stom in particular seems drawn to the center of the ruined temple. A broken pillar that was likely originally crowned with a wooden carving of a Dragon's Head but it lies unfinished and damaged from what looks like a recent battle. This pillar is recently built.
Due to everyone's recent involvement its easy to see that the dragon depicted is none other than Dahak. Additionally there is a cloth sack at the pillar's base containing a thin gold bar worth 20 gp.
Jahsi sees you all looking at the pillar, "This is not of us, the Cinderclaws were building this but our counter attack prevented them from finishing it,"