Loki retrieves the map and checks it for their means of escaping this area and getting to Shadow Haven.
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Having bunched up momentarily at the door the necromancer overheard Piter's question regarding the distance to Shadow Haven. Entrusting the map to the shadow-bard he hopes it answers the man's question. Shaking his head, Loki has no more to add to Nalun's account of the idol, "There would be benefit in researching the truth of the idol before returning it to Neriak." He leaves the thought to hang in the air, leaving his rationale unknown. Perhaps the study would assist the church, or act as a tool for Nalun's negotiation, then again he might simply wish to steal the thing.
Loki continues on.
Loki keeps pace with Nalun in order to softly discuss the idol, which keeps that information from the others, but unintentionally missing the whispered conversation between the human and iksar.
True to his word Loki talks while moving. The necromancer makes no move to take the idol from the cleric, figuring it is in the proper hands. Loki smiles and looks at both the idol and Nalun with respect, "Tell me of its function."
"Talk can flow as easily while moving." With those words drawn out of the young necromancer he orders his pet to his side and follows the map along the route to Shadowhaven, caring very little where they go next. Loki's attention was on not making the same mistakes as the previous version of him. A family would never be in his future.
Loki studies the statuary for a moment, attempting to discern its function, before noticing Nalun's interest. He carefully hands it over to his fellow Teir'dal while inquiring as to the cleric's knowledge of the idol's import. Knowledge: Mysticism: "Shadowhaven beckons. Let us be off and purchase supplies with the moneys we found." They would need to decide their next move in short order, but the necromancer is leaving that to the others. He has sunk into a melancholy after learning that a previous existence failed to achieve the ends he had sword to play out.
Loki takes in the scene with impassive eyes, marking the capabilities of the undead creatures and adding his own magics to the battle.
Loki sits up straight, craning his head around to put his ear in line with the soft sounds of the battle outside, orienting on the same point that Cakkarak has fixed his ear hole upon. The necromancer's entire attention is fixed on a point on the other side of the wall. Holding his hand out, palm down, blue fingers splayed, to arrest any noise from the others he listens for a moment. His soft voice is little more than a vaunted whisper, "Battle is being met beyond these walls." The young Teir'dal springs to his feet, ordering his much taller skeletal minion into action, and sprints to join in the battle with the eternal guardians of their hide.
Loki is distracted, but has trained his keen ears for just such a moment. Listen:
There were 5 of them and only 4 magical bags, yet the Teir'dal attempted to offset any hard feelings by only taking a fifth of the found wealth. Loki sifts through his extensive studies, trying to find precedent to explain the dual selves across the ages. Knowledge: Mysticism: Pearl-white teeth flash in response to the restraint that Nalun showed in his words. No one was asking him to like the lesser races, or even to show them a great deal of respect, simply put he just needed to get better at hiding his disdain. As soon as the last of the spells had been copied into his spellbook the necromancer absently passes the book along, so excited is he by the newfound power that he is more focused on memorizing the spells than paying attention to the events transpiring around them. Why Kur'plugh was without spells, yet still required to open the door, was as confusing as this cleric that had spells, but was not part of the opening ritual. The ogre was filled with raw power far beyond anything they understood: simply put maybe he did not require any additional assistance like they did. Perhaps the other Teir'dal was nothing more than a momentary ally, a tool to be used and discarded as required. Why their past selves had not left them the weapons and items they carried at the time of their deaths, no doubt things so impressive that their future selves would be struck dumb by their raw power, especially considering that the dead had little use for such items, was confusing. Perhaps they had died nigh paupers with little to show for their years of adventuring. Such a thought did not bode well, living 'neath this gods' forsaken rock far away from their peoples. So many questions. It takes all of Loki's willpower to not simply gate back to Norrath at that moment. What holds him is the offer of future adventures, and the inevitable power that would come. He promised himself that he would achieve so much more than his past self had. His previous life would be a stepping stone to godhood! It was an awkward situation, which was extremely difficult to explain, especially since Tenebris Anima was still trying to work it themselves. Tenting his fingers he watches Nalun at his studies and considers his next move. There was no reason to lie, but omissions were prudent, especially if their alliance was only a temporary one. Casting his hand out to take in their surroundings he whispers, "It is difficult to explain, but we four have walked here a thousand times, yet have no memories of it. The spells you copy are our gift to you so you will be stronger as you walk beside us into the future." He leaves it at that, hoping that they seemed like amnesiacs, and not madmen.
Finding the necessary materials to draw in the power of the new spells brings forth a wicked smile. The process is slow, but once it has been completed a new skeletal minion stands eye-to-eye with the necromancer (convoke shadow), he has a more powerful snare spell (engulfing darkness), a new DoT (heat blood) and can has an increasingly potent spell for ripping out the very essence from his foes (lifedraw). Most surprisingly he now has the ability to heal (dark empathy), but to do so will damage himself. Loki was liking this place more and more with each passing moment. Nodding to their map, "Shadow Haven awaits once we are done here."
Loki discards his old backpack, wraps his gems and hides them for safe keeping, collects the scrolls and moves to collect all of the tomes likely written in his own hand for study. The necromancer moves into the office to assist Piter and then put his back to the closest wall and start the tedious process of carefully leafing through all of the tomes, even the one he carries, and the journal as well. There would be great benefit in mapping out this area, but that would have to wait until after he had scoured each of the books.
Arched eyebrows furrow as the necromancer works on the riddle before them. There were 4 bags, yet there were 5 members of the group, and though Nalun was not represented in any way before now in terms of graves, magical door locks, et cetera here he was having a spell left behind seemingly for him, and nothing for the ogre. Loki recognizes the truth of the three spells, though all are far beyond his ability to cast, so he stuffs them into the bottom of one of the magical sacks, takes 2400gp worth of coins, and then asks everyone to gather close, so the Tome of Sazs could be read for all of their benefit. He leaves the reading to someone who has not taken the risk yet.
Loki answers Piter by walking onto the circle himself. Standing in what was once the danger zone he stands with forearms clasped by the opposite arm 'neath the voluminous sleeves of his magical robes. This place was so familiar, it was disconcerting. Likely because this is exactly what he would do, or had done...He leaves the uncomfortable thought for another time when he could wax philosophic away from prying eyes.
Loki had his small pet hold in position, walks around the circle and calls it to his side. If something was going to happen it might as well happen to the reanimated skeleton, rather than one of them. He searches his mind for any information on magical traps and circles that might fit what he is seeing before him. Spellcraft: This must be so confusing for Nalun, for either they are liars, or immortals it would seem.
Loki stands back, leaving the opening of the chest to Piter, since he is the only one in the group with that specific skill set. There would be time aplenty to study the dusty tomes, journal and the two tomes they had dragged along on their journey. So many questions to be answered.
Loki speaks in a riddle easily discernible by those that have been with him the longest, "The last time I was here I left some supplies behind." He follows the others into the depths, ensuring that his invisibility versus the damned remained constantly in effect.
We want you...to die with us slowly....apply within : )
Loki had attempted to affect the undead without his invisibility versus the undead ability functioning, for it would be foolish to attempt such a thing if he could not be recognized. The necromancer had no magics to assist the human, but he does field the monk's question, "Debate remains fragmented among scholars. There are those that argue that it is remnants of memories, others feel that they learn, some believe that they regain pieces of what was, while still others speak of repetition that emulates a limited form free thinking. I side with the camp that there are pieces of the what they once were that remain, and given sufficient time they can come to the fore." Leaning forward he asks Piter, "Is it within your skillset to open?"
Loki wanders with the others, but focuses on the skeletons instead. He exudes an aura of dark energies (undead empathy) and orders them to clean up the mess and get it into a state fit for their masters. Undead Empathy: The necromancer moves aside to afford Piter the opportunity to open the locked door.
Loki moves about, discerning that none of the undead are agroing on his companions he says, "I would see benefit in us carrying out a house-by-house search of the area for surprises and treasures, then map this area so we better understand it." He looks to the others for ideas or conflicting suggestions before he starts moving along that course.
Loki slides his eyes about the scene before him, and a reference within the journal and tome, as his agile mind seeks out precedent to explain what is happening before him. Spellcraft:
It is best to appear mysterious and more important indispensable. Loki whispers to Piter, "Quodcumque dixerit vobis, facite", in answer to his question about the four.
If Nalun is expecting judgement for being an outcast from Neriak it does not come from Loki. If anyone could commiserate with being out of step with the Teir'dal it was the necromancer. He simply looks the cleric in his eyes and says, "We walk with powerful allies." The shielding spell had been refreshed. With that Loki (56/56 hit points, 80/80 mana, minor shielding, invisibility vs. undead) climbs to his feet and points down the pathway that the skeletal step had traveled. It was easy to walk down dark passages when you were invisible to the eyes of the damned.
Loki continues to hold Nalun in his eyes as he patiently waits for his questions to be answered.
Loki translates for the group and repeats the truth that he traveled the road with those that shared his destination, and each and every one of Tenebris Anima had shown their mettle to him time and again. Speaking of being a Thex was the only lie in that exchange. The cleric was learning on the armour of his every word, probing for weakness. Such scouring must be countered lest Nalun discern the truth behind the lie. While a commoner the necromancer had spent years among the elite, nobles and royalty alike, which lent his words extra validity, "This is the last that will be spoken of my lineage, and you must treat me as you would any other commoner of Neriak, for to do otherwise endangers me. Such deference marks me as a high priority target, and that is something I cannot abide." Bluff: Speaking in the iksar tongue well enough only for simple concepts he hisses, "He is but a hatchling, as am I, and as I learned to see the tactical advantage in forming an allegiance with other races so much he. Your people are even more xenophobic than mine, so I am sure that his position is something you have grown up with." Either Nalun would extend the respect that the others had earned, or he would not. While their people tended to hate everyone equally, a short-sighted outlook and part of the reason why the necromancer had his sights on dethroning Innoruuk, but they were generally intelligent enough to conceal their disdain when it suited their purposes. Working together with other races, but only doing so in the belief that such an allegiance suited their personal plans, was not uncommon among the Teir'dal. Absently chewing some bland rations, and slaking his thirst with short pulls of his waterskin, he continues to stare at Nalun waiting for him to field Cakkarak's question. The lightning-fast monk came from a pitiless people that brooked no disrespect. Loki My'thrandr, of no house worth noting, had done well to stay out of that iksar's path, and Nalun would be wise to follow suit. To lubricate the conversation he asks the cleric, and he was obviously a cleric for no other Teir'dal vocation could heal others without causing pain, the questions that Nalun had asked him:
He leaves questions about Nalun's mission to the others.
"I would know why those vampyres were after you Nalun." Loki seeks out any deception in the cleric's words or mannerisms. Sense Motive:
Loki (56/56 hit points, 75/80 mana, minor shielding, invisibility vs. undead) gazes at the door for a moment, absently running the index and middle finger of his right hand along his lips and down to his chin as he considers a door on the moon seemingly only able to be opened by them. Their aged bodies had been teleported from somewhere. Four hand prints. Four bodies. The necromancer chews on the details for a few moments and then comes to a realization: Nalun had not been laid to rest along with them, nor was he a crucial part of the opening of the door. He had sensed no obvious deceit, but that was a foolish proposition from his people. It was likely that this cleric of Innoruuk was simply a more practised liar than he was capable of detecting. Perhaps Nalun's destination lied along a different path, or when the others had fallen he still remained alive. Such conjecture could only bring someone so far, and then they required more information to narrow it down to the most likely scenario. Glancing at the fellow Teir'dal he holds his gaze for a few heartbeats before turning back to more pressing concerns. Loki gazes at the door, wondering if they were now trapped within, or if there was a means to open it from the inside. They had seen the thickness of the door, and with that in mind he looks at it for any magical emanations, suggestive that it was tougher than its thickness suggested. A torch need be lit for the human to see, and Loki moves as far away from it as possible. As the tracks are found he asks the others if they can tell them more of the being that walked the halls, so he could attempt to match it up to an undead he has read about or encountered. Knowledge: Monster Lore (Undead): This tunnel was familiar, but he set out to draw in enough details to determine if it was identical to the one they had just descended. As they reach the choice of direction the necromancer suggests they halt here, rest up, meditate, and draw in information of the movements of the denizens of the darkness. Loki had some studying to do. Turning opposite the chosen path, after doing a quick sweep to see if the glow of the journal revealed the correct direction, he studies the book, cross referencing it with the tome, for some clue of what was transpiring.
Wrapping the journal up tight, he tucks it deeper in the pack, and nods in full agreement with Nalun's assessment. "This way." Loki leads them to the door as quickly as possible while still maintaining a modicum of stealth.
The Nexus was supposed to be a city. They appeared to be in the wylds of Luclin, and he would be much more comfortable putting as much distance between himself and the insect-like creatures. Loki remains silent, permitting this shaiith olath darthirii to come to terms with the others, for the conbluth were the linchpin in whether this union was even a possibility. The necromancer keeps his glances fleeting, but he steals enough of them Kur'plugh's way to make it clear that he was back to not trusting the shaman. Time and again this being just cast impossible spells... Migrating a bit south the Teir'dal summons his pet to his side, casts a shielding spell and then moves a bit closer to see if he can discern whether what he is seeing is a door or not.
Outnumbered they were not, but from what Loki knows about vampires this was a losing effort. He continues his search for information on his surroundings, especially focusing on ways of escaping this encounter with the damned.
The one vampyre was a wizard, while the other was a cleric. The necromancer wondered what sort of dark god would still hear the call of their faithful after death. Loki ponders the shaman's spell, as he had the others that had been cast by their foes. Spellcraft (to identify spells):
Loki (56/56 hit points, 80/80 mana) glances about the area that they were fighting in to get a better lay of the land, wondering if anything in their surroundings could be used to their advantage. If they were in the Nexus, there had to be a militia, or guards of some sort.. Newly found respect could be extended to the vah shir for building Shar Vahl on the dark side of the moon where apex predators like these vampyres could hunt without ever fearing the light of a sunrise. It appeared that this shaiith olath darthirii / nameless dark elf had brought this fight to them. It intrigued him that it was "more" food, which suggested that this was not the first time this scene had played out. Since he fought, ineffectively thus far but Loki believed the truth of his actions, it appeared as though others had been set upon due to the actions of this unwitting Teir'dal. Loki tsks and shakes his head: his race was meant to be the orchestrators of plots, not the pawns moved by undead hands. Sense Motive: In the common tongue he provides the others with advice on how to best proceed, "Meet not their eyes. Come to the aid of any that are bitten before they can be drained of their blood. Use wooden piercing and slashing weaponry for maximum effect." He doubted he needed to mention the ability to turn to mist, since they had just seen it happen before their eyes, and only Kur'plugh seemed to travel with the ability to generate daylight with his magics. The necromancer remains invisible (at will Invisibility vs. Undead), but moves aside (move action) after he speaks so no one can target the area he was just standing in. Sneak: Two casters were launching spells their way, and he wanted to know the truth of them. Spellcraft (to identify spells):
(held action)
"Elongated teeth dripping with blood. Pale skin." Loki seeks out the dusty recesses of his studies, in an attempt to discern what they face, and more importantly what weaknesses they might exploit. Monster Lore (Undead): Addressing the newcomer he whispers in Dark Speech, "You asked of my house. I am an illegitimate child of Thex." Bluff:
<takes away Cakkarak's sunning rock>
Closing his eyes the young Teir'dal rolls his head back a few inches and scours his memories for what he had learned of the second of Norrath's moons, the ringed moon, that remained perpetually hidden from mortal eyes. If rumours hold any validity it was the erudite wizard Al'Kabor that created the rift that opened up travel to Luclin via magic dating back to the Combine Empire. One half of Luclin was perpetually in the light, while the other ever in the darkness, and it is the elder city of Shar Vahl, the home of the exiled Kerran called Vah Shir, that is nestled in the darkness. There was another account of a waypoint of the moon. A city, deep under the surface, populated by humans and humanoids. This was the "Nexus" this stranger spoke of, he is sure of it. Loki finds a wall to lean against, permitting this nameless stranger to interact with the others, for the "con'bluth" were the linchpin in whether this union was even a possibility. In the interim he drinks in information from his surroundings, including the arrival of the unexpected vampyres. Undead visitors within his first few minutes of arriving in a new place; could Luclin get any better? Loki dissects when he should be reacting, perhaps this is why he moves so slow. Luckily it is his norm to remain invisible to the undead at all times while awake (invisibility vs. undead at will). Initiative: Time for the nameless to prove his mettle.
Nexus? Perhaps this was the core of Luclin, or the means of conveyance about the moon. Either way this creature had information that they had yet to ascertain on their own. There was potential value to this moon-bound dark elf... You had to admire the chutzpah of this lone Teir'dal, standing resolute in the face of overwhelming odds. Then again he might simply be addled. Pearl-white teeth flash from 'neath the cowl. There would be no deception fashioned from the stuff of words. Loki had kept his part of the bargain. Cakkarak had the core fragments of the Dark Speech. As such everything that spills from his gaping maw is in the common tongue. "Queen Cristianos Thex is a blood ally of The Dead. All Teir'dal necromancers and knights of the shadows swear her fealty for she is an ally of my master Wraith Xon Quexill." It was a good thing that Loki had not gotten around to teaching Cakkarak defamatory language, or else the iksar would likely be feasting on the newcomers face for the way he was speaking of them. "I travel the road with those that share my destination, and each and every one of Tenebris Anima has shown their mettle time and again." Brushing some of the dirt away from his shoulders, realizing that it had a head start of a millennium to coat it, he frowns and gives up. "I would know how I speak with traveler."
Conversations were a back and forth of non-verbal cues and reactive encouragement. Loki provides none of those. He merely stands stock still impassively staring at the Teir'dal across from him as he waits for the cleric to introduce himself and perhaps answer some of his own questions, so that a simulacrum of trust could be formed.
Contrails of dark smoke lazily rise from the necromancer's dusty robes. He remains frozen in position down on one knee for the space of three heart pumps before lifting his cowled head, his handsome face remaining in shadow, permitting cyan eyes a moment's reprieve to draw in surroundings most foreign. There was an exhilarating, yet excruciating, lack of control in the means of magical conveyance. One day he would wield magics far beyond that which brought him to the moon. Luclin. Never had he imagined he would come to this distant place. Slowly finding his feet Loki cocks his cowled head as he takes in the information around him, finally falling coldly on the wounds of the Teir'dal across from him, searching for mortal injuries only, then drawing in information from body posture and speech as to his intent. Heal:
A slight frown tugs at the corner of his mouth when the necromancer realizes that his pet had been destroyed in the transportation. Loki speaks in the Teir'dal tongue, immediately translating both sides of the conversation for the others afterward, "Hail, and well met. Innoruuk's dark blessing to you..." There is acid burning the edges of his words when he speaks of the Prince of Hate, but he tries his best to hide his jealousy that any creature, even a god, was above him. Introductions are provided: Loki was but a commoner, but who would doubt that he was a noble, for a necromancer was the elite apex predator of Teir'dal society. The expert way he says both the ogre and iksar's names and titles shows how far the Teir'dal has progressed in learning each of their languages. Leaning forward the slight cock of the head, and raise of his eyebrows can be seen by Nalun, for the cleric's ultravision easily destroys the veil of darkness cast by the necromancer's voluminous cowl.
An expert eye plays across the undead monstrosity's quiescent form, wondering what could be learned for his own castings. Spellcraft: There is a bit too much interest in his voice, "It is an amalgam of undead flesh." Loki whispers, his eyes flitting back and forth between the Amalgam and the portal, "Are either of you knowledgeable about Luclin and its denizens?" For all he knew the Amalgam was native to Luclin, and was commonplace as well.
Loki approaches the creature, being careful to avoid areas where its acid might be a danger, and carefully searches it for valuables. As he does this he looks about the area, especially where Lilith might have dropped something. Once content that the group has not left anything behind he moves to be the second person through the portal.
Loki leaves his pet to attack the thing, forgoing the liberal application of useless spells, he simply turns invisible to undead and tries to discern what they are fighting, whilst he backs away. Monster Lore (Undead):
Nalun Phlithmira was an oddity in his house. His mother was allied to Queen Christanos Thex... I love this, especially the connection to Thex, since Loki is nothing more than a vaunted commoner. Potential roleplaying opportunities abound.
There was nothing of sentimentality in how Loki handles the bones. They are devoid of meaning and are simply the sloughed off tissue left behind once the truth of the being had moved along. This pragmatism does not stop the necromancer from covering the corpse with his old robes, and also to leave a copper coin within the tomb. If their travels and travails through time continued, then he would be interested in the state of these items should this not be the last time he is present when the tombs are cracked open again. Scratching his chin Loki glances down at his own hands and notices the soulbound ring on his finger, then his cyan masses of vitreous body flit to the same ring on the corpse. Such an item would never come off... Information drawn in he departs while musing upon it. Loki (40/40 hit points, 56/80 mana) is shaken free of his contemplative stance by the drachnid-like creature. It had waved off his spells as if they were nothing atop the surface, but that was all he had at his disposal in this place. Firstly he orders his pet to rip into this unholy thing, while he tosses a single spell (Poison Bolt, Fort save vs. DC 20 for half damage), hoping to fully capitalize upon its weakness, and feeling less comfortable about his world since his protective magics (minor shielding) had long since faded. Probing the surround, the Teir'dal searches for any sign of Lilith.
If the bodies had not died of old age, he could get them resurrected. The thought of what would happen if the spell was cast lingered upon his mind as he moved on whilst brushing pieces of his own rotten flesh from his robes. It was an interested day, of that Loki was positive.
Running his fingers almost lovingly along the grain of the journal, as he had the dusty and spiderwebbed tome, the necromancer shows a deep reverence for the written word. Loki stares at the book as he speaks to the others, "It is in my own hand." After that he recites the words verbatim so the others were apprised of what he knew. The Teir'dal flips through the rest of the journal, as he had the tome, in search of more information. Once the others have digested the words, and he has completed a reconnoiter of the journal, he strips the body and dons the magical robes. "It is obvious that this is my body, none other would have such fine taste in fabric."
It was dizzying to consider that he was looking at himself a thousand years in the past. It was suggestive that he found a means of traveling through time. Conceptually is was too enigmatic to even pretend like he had its full measure. He was dead, yet alive and hear, but not. They battled foes that saw the future, and lived forever. Were they not doomed to simply fail once again... Their bodies had been buried, and had died of advanced age. Considering how short the others lived and how long he was destined to, he imagined that past he had made the arrangements for the others, and had joined them well over a century later. Loki lovingly rubs his fingers across his own skull, wondering if the dead version of him had the same aspirations to unseat Innoruuk, saddened that it seemed to foretell that he would fail at his pan-ultimate goal.
Loki is cloaked head to foot in robes the colour of damp ashes, with a face almost invisible, for it is ever carefully concealed within the shadow of his broad hood. This drawn cowl hides the necromancer's reaction, as he and his skeletal minion stand a silent watch over the fallen Teir'dal. With mouth agape he rails against the information before him. Loki absently runs his fingers over his left wrist, shattered by his mother decades before, a wound that could be seen on the corpse as well. Cyan eyes dissect the journal, flaying every paragraph and torturing ever syllable. The writing was in his own perfectly-controlled hand. The necromancer runs his fingers along the journal, seemingly written for their own use, if that paradox made any sense. Had they left this journal so that their later selves could pick it up to find the weapons, and other items, to continue the fight against the eternal Shissar? Something nags him and at first he cannot place his finger upon it, but finally it comes to light as he considers the bodies, wondering how they could survive over 1000 years without turning to dust. They were not perfectly sealed, that could be seen by the obvious rot that stole the flesh from their bones. He scours his mind for precedent for each in an attempt to rectify his doubts and also to understand the truth of the powder that had emanated from the graves. Heal: He wonders if he could harness that powder as a weapon against his foes. Wielding pestilence was like breathing for those trained in necromancy. At a loss Loki turns to subtlety measure the other's reactions. "Has anyone developed the frame of reference to understand what is happening?"
Loki moves close enough to try to answers Piter's question about how the iksar died. Heal:
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