To Find a Mourner (Part 4)
Log Info
- Title: To Find a Mourner (Part 4)
- GM: Verna
- Place: Caracoroth's Teeth
GAME: Harkashan rolls Perception: (9)+18: 27 GAME: Telamon rolls ranged: (17)+15: 32 GAME: Telamon casts Disintegrate. Caster Level: 20 DC: 25 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+7: (18)+7: 25 GAME: Telamon rolls 5d6: (23): 23 GAME: Telamon casts Suffocation/Quicken. Caster Level: 20 DC: 28 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+7: (8)+7: 15
Telamon's blood runs cold as he hears the sounds beneath. An instant of insight: those poor souls left behind will become the next meal. And on the heels of that, a realization: he can't let that happen. And so as he starts to move forward, his posture suddenly changes. Despite the humble, menial appearance granted by the veil, it's like he's someone totally different, his head coming up and his eyes locking with the sil-blooded woman. His lips draw back in an expression that would never be mistaken for a smile.
"Greetings and farewell," he says in a cold, terrible voice. And then his hands rapidly move, a sizzle of energy swirling down his arm as he intones, "Ilim sugzag, gu ubri sahar," and a blue-white beam stabs into the guard, though she resists the relentless unmaking beam. Unfazed, Telamon's fingers move swiftly, and before she can cry out he hisses, "Pagta zuh nam-kud kilul." The woman clutches at her throat, falling to her knees as the air is forcibly drawn from her lungs.
GAME: Auranar rolls 1d20+8+1: (15)+8+1: 24 GAME: Auranar rolls 1d4+4: (2)+4: 6
Auranar turns in the same instant toward the helpful ourch slave, showing herself unarmed for a moment. "Healing." She hopes that the words are a comfort. That the other woman can understand them. Either way she twists her fingers, allowing the warmth to build in them and reach out with a warm glow toward the woman. She doesn't think until the last moment that the spell might well harm the woman if she proves to be evil instead.
The veil spell comes down, revealing the group of adventurers for who they really are:
Verna's rescuers. Aelwyn, Auranar, Cor'lana, Harkashan, Rune, Simony, and Telamon, all unveiled. "Let's go," Cor'lana hisses while her sister does the work that, between the two of them, Auranar is far better at.
It is safe to say that the sudden shift from servants to heroes was not expect by any (aside from the heroes). The female guard's scowling RBF shifts to a gasp of surprise. Quickly followed by a scream of pain that is not even completed before she is suddenly gasping like a fish out of water. As for the oruch slave, she blinks at comment and subsequent glow lancing at her. There is no yelping of pain from her and there are no new wounds... though her current wounds do not appear lessened, either. She blinks again.
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Hold Monster/Persistent. Caster Level: 20 DC: 25 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+4: (19)+4: 23
Cor'lana's swift to follow on her husband's lead, although she opts for less violent means compared to him. She weaves magic in her hands, looking at the oruch guard.
Nobody will be aiding and abetting oppressors today on her watch.
"HOLD." The word leaves Cor'lana's lips with the echo of magic, and the oruch guardsman locks up in place, paralyzed by her magic.
GAME: Telamon rolls talky: aliased to diplomacy+5: (18)+34+5: 57
As the female guard crumples, and the oruch guard locks up under Lana's paralyzing magic, the veil dissolves away from Telamon like sand washed away by water. The elegant, expressive half-sil smoothly glides forward, before turning to the slaves.
"I have no quarrel with you," he says softly. "And I would offer you escape from this terrible place. But you must trust me, and your first step will be getting off that lift. I shan't force you, but I would implore you to follow me, if you wish to live." His starry eyes shine, as he beckons to the slaves, offering them something they may not have known in a long time: hope. "Come, and with the gods' blessing you will walk under open skies again."
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+7: (4)+7: 11
The oruch slave seems to know an opportunity when she sees it, and is moving off the lift even before Telamon's encouragement is half out. The one she was supported is aided/pulled with her, not released until both are on solid ground. Though she does not stop there, stepping right up to the oruch guard to give him a swift, vengeful kick to the groin.
Maybe she knows him.
Maybe it is retaliation for racial betrayal.
Maybe she just really, really needed to hit something.
The other captives on the lift stunned for a moment, until the words rouse in them the energy to follow off the lift. After her venting, the oruchess looks back to Auranar with a very toothy grin. "Healing need work."
The female guard collapses. The oruch guard is held fast, and can't even wince from the strike.
Harkashan's still demeanor has not improved in the last few seconds. The poor souls being turned into naught but a meal. Cadavers given no proper burial rites. His head tilting down. He'd be good, he said. He would behave, and try to get through this without giving himself away.
But soon, someone else makes that decision. And while flashes of warnings quickly pass his memory, reminders of what it might mean to restart the war between Alexandria and the Charn, he can't help but appreciate... even but for a moment... Telamon's tact in taking care of the woman before them.
Choking out one, and the other one of the Arcane nature is quick to hold the other guard. Harkashan huffs and puts his hands at his hips as the Veil shatters from their bodies and reveals them all. Pondering what to even do in a situation like this.
GAME: Rune rolls sense motive: (17)+9: 26
Despite her skills in the area of subterfuge, Rune can't help but show a tightening of her lips at the sounds coming from below. Her hands move towards her back, reaching for where her swords are strapped, itching for the chance to act. She isn't the only one, that much is certain, but there are moments where you leave the choice to move, to those who have the most to lose. Her eyes flick towards the forms she knows of as Auranar, Telamon, and Cor'lana.
Thankfullly, she doesn't have to wait long. The moment the veil drops and spells start being slung, her hands close on her blades. However, it's obvious that there is little in the way of actual fighting to be had for the time being. Instead, she looks to the slaves, reaching down to pull a set of daggers out of her boots. "Despite the efficiency of my friends, I doubt we're out of the woods entirely, yet." She offers one of the daggers out to the female Oruch.
Then, in a move that seems a bit strange, perhaps, she crouches near the child. She grabs the kid's hand and puts the hilt of the dagger in their palm. "You take this one." She tries to get their attention, "I get it. This is fucked up. It's scary. But right now, we need to get you all out of here. Any Charneth get close, you stick them with the pointy end, got it?"
GAME: Simony casts Prayer. Caster Level: 8 DC: 17 GAME: Simony rolls 3d8+8: (10)+8: 18
"Finally!", the Goblin says as the veil falls, and the guards are handily taken out. She looks to the Oruch slave, clearing her throat. "I can help you with some healing, I'm a cleric.", she says in Yrch-speak. Her holy symbol is pulled free of her robes, her prayer to Rada whispered fervently and quickly. Stepping to the woman, she reaches up to lay her hand on the Oruch's forearm. A white glow is seen, and the Oruch's wounds begin to close.
"I am called Simony, but you may call me Mony. I shall help the others, but you will have to take care of them for a little bit while we go inside. We'll be back." <Yrch-Speak>
"... ugh." Aelwyn grimaces as the sounds pick up. He was doing a great job at holding himself back from the smell, but there was a sense of relief when the veil lifts. Straightening with a deep inhale, he glances around. "Not in the plan," He grouses, "And now the plan is complicated."
Looking around at the others and completely nonplussed at the near-violence happening, he slaps Harkashan on the shoulder. "Only way forward is forward," He tells the larger sith-makari with unnaturally cheerful grin. "Let us not be intimidated by the hatred of the now." Striding forward from the mess, he points at the guard being held. "Better finish them quickly - this one is certain more shall be arriving soon to look for the slaves." He swings his glaive about and then takes a centre position, looking around in preparation.
Auranar follows in the wake of the ourch woman who she'd failed to harm or help. She pulls back on her bowstring as she does so. Noching the arrow. Remembering Grandfather's lessons. The arrow goes through the guard's eye and out the back of his head in one single blow. She doesn't try to salvage the arrow. There's little left to salvage. "Mmmmm you may be right, but I have a better kick."
She smiles grimly and keeps walking.
And suddenly everything's quiet again. With the guards now quite dead, Telamon helps chivvy the slaves off the lift. "So," he says, once they're all gathered. "How many of you would like to be out of this place? Because I assure you I am not above blasting this miserable heap off the face of Ea. I don't want to leave you here if that comes to pass." He studies the oruch woman, his eyes curious. "I guess it depends, again, on how much you trust a strange half-sil sorcerer who just appeared in your midst along with a group of friends."
Cor'lana smiles brightly at Auranar's grim action, her face absolutely lit with approval. "A good application of Grandfather's lessons," she says. "There'll be more of that in this fortress."
She looks at Telamon and nods. "We come in benevolence," she says. "Should you need proof of our good intentions..."
Here she looks at Simony and Harkashan. "We have with us clerics of Navos and Vardama, and our Deathsinger is especially no lover of Charn."
The oruchess looses a blessed sigh and Simony's aid. "Thanks." She then looks at Rune and her offered dagger. Considers it, then loks over at the ground and back. "But you keep it." She steps over to a now no-longer-wielded mace and picks it up. The heft is more assuring, no offense to Rune's blade. Auranar then gets a wide grin at her back before the oruchess thumbs to the same and comments to Rune, "I like her."
Then there are Telamon's comments. "I'd rather be somewhere else," she motions to the other slaves, "and they need somewhere else if they want to live. Anywhere's better than here." Whether she believes they are all benign or not, they did annihilate the guards, heal, and are granting an out. Beggars can't be choosers, and so on.
"I would like to heal up the others, Tel." She glances at the Oruch woman, and then back to Telamon. "Isn't there a saying silors use? Any port in a storm?" Simony's glance returns to the Oruch. "You willing to hang out in a safe place for a little bit while we go do bad things to bad people?"
The Goblin nods at what Cor'lana says, and she grins at the others. "Erm, I think I'll wait here... I don't think lunch will endure another gate."
"I am more concerned with these practices in death." Harkashan answers Aelwyn, touching his hand over the Sith-makar's just for a moment, before he takes a few steps aside and tries to get a better look at what Auranar is doing - taking care of the remaining Guard. A brutal display, for certain. But an efficient one as well.
At Ravenstongue's comment about being no friend to the Charn, Harkashan grumps and breathes a bit of black smoke out of his nose in response.
"If you require further healing, I can and will be of assistance." He bids the slaves, with his head lowered. "But might you be able to point us to where a particular woman is..." He then adds, and begins to describe Verna herself, in the hopes the Slaves may be able to point them in the right direction.
Though the offer of the blade is declined, Rune just inclines her head in acknowledgement. She watches the Oruchess claim a different weapon, her lip quirking slightly before she shoves the dagger into the hands of one of the other slaves. They don't get the same pep-talk that the kid gets, though. "Yeah, me too."
Once the extra weapons are handed out, Rune draws her own blades, which are distinctly more colorful, with elaborate designs that suggest their enchantments at a glance. She steps to join the others, "With our cover blown, we may want to get a move on before someone notices the disruption. I expect there will be a fair bit of trouble between us and our target, regardless." Rune scuffs a foot along the ground.
GAME: Telamon casts Magnificent Mansion. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26
Telamon considers, then nods. "Alright." Deliberately, he walks over to one side of the passage, touching the hem of his sleeveless overcoat as he does. A shimmer of magical energy, as he traces out a doorway, four feet wide and eight feet long. He focuses on the shimmering door, before nodding and turning to the slaves.
"This portal will take you to an extradimensional hideaway. It won't let anyone else in except for us, and you. Please remain inside till we come get you." He pauses, then smiles. "The servants there will help tend to you, and there's plenty of food and drink. Hopefully we can rejoin you for the dessert course." His eyes twinkle merrily, as he steps aside, gesturing to the shimmering door.
Cor'lana watches her husband work (it's one of her favorite pastimes) for a moment before she looks at Auranar with a smile. "So, where next, commander?" she asks. After all, her sister's in charge of this outfit.
Pothy preens himself on Auranar's shoulder, apparently glad to no longer be disguised by the spell. "Death," he croaks in a mimic of Grandfather's voice. "For them, that is."
That's not creepy at all.
GAME: Simony rolls 4d6: (17): 17
The boy clutches the gifted dagger as if it were precious; it is something to hold onto, in both a physical and mental sense. He manages a small smile to Rune before he stares at Harkashan, timidly. The question gest a small shake of his head. The others are no more helpful on the current geography, the woman managing, "We've never been here before." Why would they want to be?
The oruchess watches Telamon's magic curiously, then her eyes widen at his explanation. Now he's not only offering a safe space other than here, but free food?! That is enough to get her to move to step in without much other thought. She encourages the others with a "Better get in here 'fore there's none left!" Should it be some kind of trap and there's foes within ... the comment is still just as valid.
Invigorated by Simony's further aid, the others move to enter as well. 'Anywhere but here' is a very valid destination, and the one formerly barely able to stand is now able to enter under his own power and offers a weak, yet earnest, "Thank you" before he steps inside.
The ledge/opening from the elevator only entends two dozen feet into the rock, broadening into a room slightly larger than the elevator. There are a pair of chairs, table, and a small weapons rack. It is likely a guard post of some sort and presumably where the two arrived from, as it is empty of individuals. To the right is a large steel grate of a door, with a short hall visible beyond before ther eis another similar grated door.
GAME: Auranar rolls Perception: (2)+5: 7 GAME: Simony rolls perception: (5)+14: 19 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+9: (2)+9: 11 GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (12)+33: 45 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception: (17)+24: 41 GAME: Harkashan rolls Perception: (5)+18: 23
Pothy is not being very helpful. He keeps murmuring motivational words (and also words of death) in Grandfather's voice into Auranar's ear. There's something about the righteous grind of the bone into dust somewhere in there. It's probably best not to query about that any further.
Cor'lana, however, is keeping her eyes out as she walks with the group. She squints. "Hey everyone," she murmurs. "The gated door across the hall... That looks kind of like the one we're behind? And the room beyond it looks like the one we're in... And there's at least one guard."
She raises her hand. "Who's looking in our direction and... standing up."
GAME: Telamon casts Suffocation/Persistent. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+6: (9)+6: 15
Telamon glides in with Cor'lana, his dark eyes flicking around as well. When Lana points out the guard has noticed them, he doesn't even try to stop his first impulse. He raises his hand, curling mana into the killing magic once again, and then releasing it at the guard -- who much like his compatriot, freezes, reaching up to claw at his throat as the air is yanked forcefully from his lungs.
"No alarms," he says flatly. "The more time we have to look around undetected, the better."
At every opportunity, the Archmage never ceases to amaze Rune when it comes to just what sort of shenanigans he can pull out of thin air. She watches the portal open, and then she lets out a low whistle, "Well, I guess that's better than asking them to fight their way out." She gives one last raise of the hand towards the kid, "Keep it. You might need it, someday."
Then, weapons drawn, Rune falls into step, knowing that there is no point in trying to hide when there is a group moving through like this. That is, until there is another guard, and another spell. She looks over to Telamon, "I got out the good leathers and I swear you're intent on not letting me spill any blood on them." Though the situation is serious, Rune has always had a tendency to have quips of humor now and again.
Auranar smiles at Rune. "When we reach him you can use one of your blades to ensure he is dead. At least then I wouldn't waste an arrow." She has a glimmer in her eye that says that Pothy's exultation of death is well spent in her mind. She wants to burn the world until Verna is at her side. Ready to do so.
Now they just need to keep moving.
Ahead, another hall, more of the same - it would even seem. Harkashan earnestly is not certain if this is something to be worried about, or simply Charnite brutilist architecture. What he does know, is that more death awaits the Charn as Telamon takes matters into his own hand.
Harkashan lays his hands behind his back, and slowly proceeds forwards, taking up formation and position by Rune. There's a lot of enjoyment of death right now. He can understand a sense of vengeance is present here. Still, he remains quiet throughout it all. Instead, keeping his eyes out for any kind of trouble they're not already covering.
The Goblin moves over to inspect the downed guard. "Tsk. I am guessing, without touching them, that they are not just laying down for a bit."
She follows along behind the others, falling in step Aelwyn. "Sooo. Not quite like the average Guild job, huh? You doing alright?"
Aelwyn continues on forward with steady pace, not lingering too much on the magical details. But he turns around and flashes his teeth at Rune. "Tch, is it the blood that beguiles her? Ah, should this bleed more of this heart?" He dramatically asks before with a whip of his tail, he turns around and continues on. The flame of his glaive was still subdued.
Towards Simony, the ruddy sith-makar turns, and briefly considers her words. "It is a mission. This one has waded through worse, yet we must hurry." He glances behind him, looking towards Rune and Harkashan, and especially Auranar. "It is not I however, Canvas should be worrying of."
Cor'lana attempts to try the door nearest to them. "Hey... Anyone good at lockpicking?" she asks as she looks over her shoulder. "Rune? I think you have the nimblest fingers with this kind of thing. It's locked."
Pothy makes a hopeful noise, and Cor'lana sighs. "No, you are not leaving my sister's shoulder to try your hand at corvid-talon-lockpicking. Also, that has disturbing implications for our snack supplies."
GAME: Rune rolls perception+6: (10)+32+6: 48 GAME: Rune takes ten on disable device+6: (10)+25+6: 41
Rune's blue eyes flick over to Aelwyn, the half-sil offering a shake of her head, "Never, my friend." She leans to nudge him in the side with her arm. "I just... really don't care for the Charneth. I've got the giant scar on my back and the fucked up psyche to show for my encounters with them." Sure, Verna has her connections to these people, but Verna is like... an honorary not-Charneth. It makes more sense the less you think about it.
"Lockpicking?" One of Rune's ears twitches before she sheaths her swords and steps forward, breaking out a set of tools. "I got this. Give me a moment." Being that they are in the middle of enemy territory, she takes a moemnt to examine the lock before looking over at Cor'lana, "Actually, I could use Pothy's help if he doesn't mind."
Rune points at the lock, "There's another of these on the other side, if you can reach it with a talon. I just need you to feel around. If it matches the one on this side, I can walk you through where the tumblers are." And so, in a delicate dance of Rune's tools and Pothy's talons, there is a thunk as it unlocks.
"Sorry, in advance, 'Lana. Family before snacks, right?" She asks, offering the other half-sil a wink as she packs up her tools. "Let's go."
Simony shrugs lightly at Aelwyn. "I worry about everyone. There's an awful amount of my friends here, in this terrible place. I am hoping the number who've I come here with increases by at least one for our way out." The Goblin eyes Rune using Pothy to pick locks. "Welp. You'll never be able to hide snacks in the Lupecyll-Atlon home ever again."
And so the way is unbarred, care of Rune and her corruption of Apotheosis.
The guard, now involuntarily reseated and clutching at his throat, is staring bug-eyed at the now-open door. He can't speak, but one hand leaves his neck to point and flail.
"The food ain't that ba-" comes another voice with a hint of laughter until it is cut short. Then another face appears at the edge of the other door/doorway as another guard leans over to peek. "What the f-!" It then ducks back.
A moment later, a shrill siren begins to shriek as the connection between excrement and ventilator is made.