The magic of the staff awakened, pushing the debris atop the pool to its rim.
The filth that coated the fountains floor was similarly pushed away, restoring the view of a mosaic in green and turquoise that showed a majestic hippocampus surrounded by golden stars.
All save one part of the pool, where the filth fought the staves power and slithered forward, churning into a whirlpool and then forming a long, serpentine funnel of water studded with the forms of rearing horses - each rearing in pain and rage, kicking and biting.
The maelstrom bore down upon Albur and Egspen in blind fury.
Weird Water Round 1
Armolas will rush forward with the Elven Blade.
Armolas will attack with the Elven Blade.
The elven warrior rushed forward, sword held high. Steel flashed in the torchlight, slashing through the churning water.
Albur is up.
The magic of the staff fails to strike any meaningful part of the splashing beast.
Egspen is up.
Her brother paused his playing of an impossible torture device/musical instrument and raised an eyebrow.
"Three editions of what?"
"Explaining it ruins the fun. My little wizardling laments his lack of magic and thinks there will be a time when he would have more. And he's right."
"How do you know that?"
"That fellow told me. Long beard. Longer hat."
"Oh. Him. it must be a lucky guess. These mortals are always discovering things."
"Maybe you are right, Dear Brother. Maybe. Maybe the Magicicking isn't as far away as you think."
Her brother re-raised his eyebrow. "Name needs work"
She returned her gaze to the pool. And Nudged a rock.
Egspen paused, listening. He could have sworn a woman just whispered "Drain" into his ear but there was no one there.
Armolas nodded. "I'll try to hold it off while you work. Make haste."
The elven blade's slashing point pushed the water weird ever backwards, opening a narrow path the the hippocampus mosaic and the fouled drain.
The staff's magic pulsed anew.
The staff's magic drove the thick sludge coating the pool aside, cleansing and dislodging the metal drain cover.
Instantly, the foul water in the fountain began to pour into the gap in a powerful swirl.
The water weird felt the suction and turned back in the direction of the Priest, seeking to engulf him in its watery mass.
Albur escaped it's clutches, albeit drenched to the bone.
Armolas struck again with the elven blade while it was distracted.
Weakened by the stroke, the suction of the drain overcame it, drawing it down and away to vanish in a whirlpool of slime.
Albur quickly replaced the drain, sealing it away.
The niches framed wicker storage sheds with thatched roofs, the floor bare dirt where a mat of woven reeds fail to cover.
Signs of recent habitation included a stained bedroll, ration wrappers, and several old stained bandages. A leather pouch marked with the word "Tithe" and stitched with two black-furred great cats sat in a forgotten corner near a half-empty wine bottle, the bag filled with copper pieces.
A weathered journal hidden beneath the mat speaks of teleportation mazes and a growing unease among the mercenaries of the Rahib regarding the mission itself and of elven maidens with black eyes and terrible voices.
Egspen moved into the torchlight and scanned the journals entries.
"The Rahib had brought 15 skilled mercenaries with him, losing 8 in battles with the serpentine guardian of the temple, elven warriors of the forest, and magical traps before finding his goal. He had also brought a pair of ferocious panthers with him, beasts he named Pain and Suffering.
His goal at hand, the mercenaries were all but dismissed, replaced by the dominated Siswaru elves. When thw two kidnapped elven maidens reappered by The Rahib's side, they were much changed - eyes of black without pupils, and raspy, terrible voices.
Grumbling among the mercenaries began, low at first but growing in volume as the survivors realized their employer had much darker plans than he had indicated. The mercenary leader, a man named Hassam, demanded an audience with the Rahim.
He did not return.
The mercenaries grew increasingly desperate as they became disoriented in the teleportation mazes of the lower temple. Finally, the journals unknown author won free, the last entry vowing to return with help to save his trapped brethren.
That was four days ago."
The clearing of the barricade takes somne time, but, once done, the double doors swing open freely to reveal an earthen path leading to the temple and the elven forest beyond. The roadside shrine stands beside the path ahead while the graveyard sits just to the right of the temple itself, only a dozen paces away.
From here, it's clear that some of the graves are freshly dug - the fresh earth jarring with the grassy mounds of older tombs.
The woodland elf agreed. "Let us take council with the guardian and then return to the village to relay all that we have learned to Rahasia's father and see if he can break the Rahib's hold on the Siswaru we freed."
"We should return the riches he stored as well. They are not safe here while the Rahib remains."
The companions stealthily returned to the lower tunnels and returned to the hidden halls of the Temple guardian. The celestial serpent's potent magic soon washed away the worst of the heroes wounds and led them in a prayer for the soul of their fallen companion.
So emboldened, the companions returned to the elven village, Rahasia rushing ahead to envelop her father in a tight embrace. The elven leader reacted with surprise as the contents of his vault were laid at his feet and the tale was told.
"i am saddened by the loss of your friend and offer you the hospitality of our home. Rest and restore your strength. We shall take council when you are ready."
The elven lord- now wearing a crown of woven branches and bird feathers, raised a goblet in honor of the heroes as they gathered in the great fest hall. Rahasia had traded her leathers for a gossamer gown of pale green - her hair braided, each tress tipped with feathers like her fathers crown. She smiled warmly at the heroes as her father spoke.
"I have called in our remote scouts and set traps along the routes to our village. Our avian allies watch from the air and will alert us of any approaching danger. Two of our allies join us even now."
A pair of figures stepped forward, cloaked and shrouded. One lowered his hood to reveal sharp features and pointed ears, his red hair shaved to the scalp on one side and left long and tightly braided on the other while the second figure revealed a hawk's beak and large, glaring eyes atop a feathered body strapped with bandoliers of knives and daggers. The feathered cloak revealed themselves to be wings, held tight around the figures body.
"These worthies are Galamiel of the Grey Scouts and Redclaw of the Risen Wingfolk. They will join you in your quest to defeat the evils of the Rahib and his forces. Have you questions?"
"If you think they may be swayed to our cause, the more allies we bring to bear against the Rahib and his evil, the better. Should they prove false, however, let swift justice be done. "
The Red-haired elf looked at the magic-user for a long moment. "My knives and arrows are sharper than my ears but less sharp than my eyes. The Grey has warded the north since time immemorial and it is my honor to be counted among them. I answer the call of my cousins in hope of seeing what mettle the elves of the south reaches possess."
The birdman spread his wings and clacked his razor beak in greeting. "Elyas make birdman. Serve Elyas. Come help Elyas. Who you?" he croaked.
The heroes soon returned to the Temples front doors - still ajar.
Darkness and silence awaited beyond the portals.
Waiting.
Armolas lit a torch and passed it the Albur. "Fear no darkness. We are the light that pierces the gloom heart. Lead the way."
The woodland elf nocked an arrow while the Grey Scout did the same. The strange birdman slipped curved metal claws over his hands, strapping them securely in place with leather throngs.
"Redclaw ready.'
A short length of stair linked a square landing to a second span leading upwards to the pulpit above.
A podium of pale stone sat on the pulpits edge, its surface thick with dust. Heavy curtains of deep green covered the back walls of the space, forming a shadowed backdrop to anyone deigning to speak at the platform.
Directly below, the defaced fountain reached nearly to the pulpits railing.
Armolas disappeared behind the curtains for a moment before reappearing.
"A hidden doorway."
Armolas began to pull the curtains aside but then froze before uncovering the door fully. "An eye is affixed to the door. A stone eye."
Egspen saw at once that the anomaly was one of the fountain statues missing pieces - now set at chest height on the closed door revealed.
The wood elf drew a dagger, tensing. "Are we undone? Might The Rahib cast his gaze through such a thing?"