Source Search

Your task is to follow the river along its course to find if there are any sources polluting it. It's a beautiful day, mostly because of the sun setting over the horizon in a wonderful display of gold and red. It's reflected in the water of the river so that the river seems for a moment a part of the sky. You've got time too, to sit and wax eloquently about the river and the sun as you walk along the river's edge. So far you've seen no sign of anything untoward. And it's not as you can get too lost with the mass of the river to keep you on your course.

You've come at last however to your first diversion. A stream flowing into the river. It's slow-moving and easy to cross, and it looks clear enough...

Garak sits astride a mighty warhorse, and does indeed engage in pleasantries. There's a slight hint of weariness though. Most clerics of the Gods of Good have been engaged in trying to help the plague stricken in one way or another. Garak hasn't been any more successful than the rest in curing the afflicted, and has of late been more involved in patrolling the streets for those to weak to bring themselves to a temple.

Bobbing along a couple inches off the ground by the stream, Alba's eyes snap to the new feeding stream. Eeling through the air, she pulls a small, empty potion vial from her hip pouch, dipping it into the water with a lock of hair and holding it up to the waning light. As she takes the vial into her hand, the lock of hair glows with a sickly light at the end... And dips into the water. If there is plague in this stream, the touch of magic may excite it out of hiding.

GAME: Alba casts Touch of Fatigue. Caster Level: 11 DC: 15

Rae is simply flying over the river....keeping far out of reach of most entities he can think of. This means tentacle monsters.

GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+15: (9)+15: 24

Immediately after Alba's spell the water of the little stream starts to burbble upwards. Exciting indeed. It forms a tendril which grasps hold of Alba and drags her under the water!

GAME: Garak casts Divine Favor/Quicken. Caster Level: 11 DC: 19

Garak blanches as Alba is dragged under. Part of him worries very briefly if he should have been keeping better watch, yet there will be time for such recriminations later. He chants for Serriel's favor and dives into the river after.

The first sign that Alba may have done a stupid was when her shirt caught fire. The second sign, when she was yanked into the stream. Bubbles pour forth from her mouth as she struggles for a moment, but after a flash of realization she stills... After which her hair lashes tightly around her, completely obscuring her entire form from view.

...Then the hair flakes away, revealing a tremendous, undulating leech writhing in the ooze's grip, marked with silver and crimson bands.

Well, breathing is no longer an issue. Now for escape...

GAME: Raethon rolls 1d20+6+11: (10)+6+11: 27
GAME: Raethon casts Overland Flight. Caster Level: 11 DC: 21
GAME: Raethon casts Telekinesis. Caster Level: 11 DC: 21

"Out of the water, Garak!" Rae says as he points his staff's skeletal goat head at where Alba went down. It's eyes glow and Rae's brow sweats a bit before Alba is yanked, rather forcefully, out of the water. "Well....it's got me at a bit of a disadvantage...doesn't it."

GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+15: (18)+15: 33

Alba is only just out of the water when she's grabbed again, pulled back toward the water in a forceful jerk. It seems quite intent on taking her.

GAME: Garak casts Freedom of Movement. Caster Level: 11 DC: 18

Garak at first sees Alba's leech-form get pulled out of the water. Then it gets dragged back down. Clutching his holy symbol so tightly his knuckles whiten, he swims after her and then casts a spell. Trying to catch her attention he gestures at his closed mouth and then up, where the light from above defracts in to the water.

GAME: Alba rolls strength+2: (3)+0+2: 5

Garak has ensured Alba's freedom! Yay!

Alba is swimming to push Garak out of the water! Yay!

....Alba is doing this while being a shiny black-and-red-and-silver sleeping-bag-with-teeth! Y...ya.... ya-a-a-ay...?

Sadly, the leech doesn't possess nearly enough strength to push them both out of the water, though watching her thrash while glommed onto Garak's armor is amusing for a moment. But only a moment, for soon the leech bulges oddly to one side, inflates, and explodes into a mess of flesh shreds and ectoplasmic fluids... That quickly discorporate, revealing an unhappy Witch whose hair lashes out to wrap around Garak's middle.

Apparently she has a backup-backup plan...

GAME: Raethon rolls 1d20+11+6: (16)+11+6: 33

Once again, Rae pulls Alba out of the water. "Head out of the water before it dunks you like a pastry again!"

GAME: Alba rolls 1d20+5: (6)+5: 11
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+15: (6)+15: 21

The ooze lets Alba go, trying to grasp hold of Garak who it seems is more difficult to grasp than her.

Garak's face falls as Alba is pulled from the water again. He barely has time to register the tentacle of ooze reaching for him and starts to swim away, back for the surface in a serviceable underwater stroke - no doubt his Arvek Nar mandatory military training paying off again. His thrashing legs don't give the ooze anything to wrap around soon he pulls himself onto the shore, sodden and gasping for air. "Serriel be praised," he coughs.

As Garak finally climbs up out of the water the water itself continues to froth and writhe in its bed. Then slowly, slowly it begins to settle once again. Settle until it once again becomes the thin placid stream that it once had been. There's sudden eerie silence all around. Animals frightened off by the noises you made, and the hush of the night because the sun has fallen away.

"....And there is our trail," Alba mutters, her hair wringing itself out behind her. "So, so so so. The creatures of the plague devour magic, whether or not it harms them."

Garak pulls himself to his feet. "It was after more than your magic," he notes. He begins to retie his own hair in its normal bun. While he does this he turns to trace his gaze upstream. "I wonder if something is polluting this water. Perhaps we should follow the water - does anyone know what is its source...?"

GAME: Garak rolls survival: (8)+10: 18
GAME: Alba rolls survival: (4)+12: 16
GAME: Raethon rolls survival: (13)+2: 15

You trek into the dark, and into the wilderness. The stream that tried to eat Alba is your constant companion. The sound of it's merry tinkling is what tells you when you begin to slip in the wrong direction. It takes hours to traverse the distance you are going. Hours that drag on in the knowledge that any moment it might decide you're a tasty snack again. Midnight dawns when you finally fall upon the clearing that is the source of the stream.

Even from a distance you can tell that there's something wrong with it. It's black in the night air, but it twinkles like the light of a million stars are burning inside it. Glittering. There's a man sitting beside the lake, wearing a handsome suit and looking totally out of place in the wilderness. He looks up as you approach, showing a pale face and dark hair with green eyes that would look more at home on a cat than a man. For a moment he looks surprised and then with ungangly motions pulls himself to his feet. "Hello there."

Garak looks at the man incredulously for a moment. The he remembers his manners - they are the hallmarks of Civilization, after all. "Greetings. I am Garak, a priest of Serriel. My companions and I are here on business from Alexandria. You are...?"

Yes, the man looks strange. But Alba is very, very used to strange. And since Garak has taken the lead on making first contact -- honestly for the best, really -- Alba simply hangs back, hair writhing as she studies the clearing, perhaps to get a sense of the source of this corruption.

One pale hand lights upon the man's chest and he offers a low bow to the group of you. It has a little flourish to it. "I am Kol Demontry." He looks at everyone with a small smile on his lips. You realize that he's been smiling this whole time. "I have to admit that I did not actually expect to see anyone out here."

Rae keeps behind Garak since he's taken the lead. he's not so good at social interactions either. he does bow in return though. Show of respect after all.

The floating Witch bows in place, offering her own gesture of respect. Her eyes, however, keep straying toward the source of the stream, and by inches she begins to float closer and to one side.... just to see…

Garak leans forward slightly over the pommel of his saddle. He inclines his head in return to the man. "We could say the same, Kol Demontry - we didn't expect to see anyone out here. We were following this stream," he nods at the stream, and then the lake, "Seeking its source."

"And so you have found it." There's an accent to that voice, thick and yet hard to place. His bright green eyes trail Alba and he flashes her a grin that's all teeth. "Now, now, you do not want to be doing /that/."

The strange man emits a low grinding noise that you slowly realize is his version of laughter and pulls a bottle out of his pocket. With a little flick it opens and the pool of water shudders. Then in a rush the black water pours itself into the vial as if it can not rush fast enough to get in. There's a little click as the vial shuts again and the man tucks it away into his vest. "I was sent here to collect it, and she would be so very... displeased if I let someone else take it from me."

Rae -STARES- at the man when the slime goes into the flask. "Collect it, hmm? And who's SHE?"

"Then do not force us to *take* it," Alba pipes up, managing to grin in an eerily similar way to the strange, strange man. "Three drops in trade, perhaps? Much Fel silk I may trade, if it is a thing that your mistress may wish."

The man's grin widens and suddenly he's right by Alba's side. A blink and he's there like magic although you can almost swear you saw him move. "Three drops... and I will trade it for /you/ my friend." He says 'friend' with a husky tone, his green eyes amazing up close. He's average really, and yet there's something utterly compelling about him. "Take my hand, and I will leave them with your companions yes?" The rest; everyone else and their words are ignored.

Raethon just....watches the man near Alba, but he doesn't say anything.

"No deal," Alba says, folding her arms. "To accept would be to turn all *my* plans to dust. And no one's servant will I be. *Ever.*" Her voice gains a great deal of force on the last word, her hair writhing like a nest of angry snakes.

"If wisdom will not serve? Then enjoy I shall, showing you the folly of your choice." Her mouth drops open... And a tongue of blood-colored fire extends from her mouth, curling in upon itself to swipe over a scar on her cheek.

GAME: Alba casts Hellmouth Lash. Caster Level: 11 DC: 19
GAME: Alba rolls 5d8: (20): 20

Garak holds out his hand and a gleaming silvery lance springs out from nowhere. The cleric catches it as soon as it appears, and then he levels it at the man. His horse paws at the ground, ready to spring forward but seemingly held back by something. "Wait for opening," the cleric urges it.

GAME: Alba rolls will: (11)+12: 23

Alba's tongue lashes out at the man, painting a red stripe across his cheek. Even as it does however her eyes grow dark and vacant. In one smooth motion the man places her body between yours and his own, his long arms wrapping around her body. That low grinding noise is coming from him again. He snuggles in close to her. "Should I play with you before I take her? I so /do/ want to play."

GAME: Garak rolls 12: (9)+12: 21
GAME: Garak rolls 1d100: (83): 83
GAME: Raethon rolls 3d4+3: (7)+3: 10
GAME: Raethon used a Wand of Magic Missile.

Rae notices that the guy is now standing behind Alba. "OH NO! WHATEVER SHALL I -DO-!? IT'S LIKE I'VE NEVER SEEN THIS TACTIC BEFORE!?" He then draws out a wand. "I don't know who you are but you are one stupid asshole." And three green orbs are flung out that actually bend AROUND Alba to hit the man.

As holy weapons are called upon and wizards unleash their tactical wit all around her, Alba simply... hangs in the air. Bereft of will, even her hair descends limp from her skull, obscuring her features.

Somehow this is also unnerving.

GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+20: (20)+20: 40
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+20: (13)+20: 33
GAME: Aftershock rolls 2d8+10: (6)+10: 16

As Garak comes rushing forward on his horse; lance at the ready the man moves forward in a blur. His hand reaches out and catches Garak by the face, slamming him down into the ground with all the force of a charging steed. The sound of the hit rings through the small clearing. The utter insanity of what just happened sends a ripple outward and in the distance you can hear the sound of birds fleeing in every direction.

Slowly the man leans forward toward Garak, his green eyes compelling. His incisors grow menacingly until they cut thin rivulets in his lips. "Oh, that was good. I should keep you too; but I am not greedy. I will just keep /her/."

GAME: Garak rolls 6d6: (18): 18
GAME: Garak rolls 12: (10)+12: 22

Garak is slammed down to the ground. He wheezes for breath, panicked and fumbling for something. Once his hand clasps on his holy symbol he seems to grow calm, immediately drawing strength and resolve from the focus his faith. The cleric closes his eyes briefly and then the area around him is covered in a wave of positive energy.

GAME: Raethon rolls knowledge/arcana: (13)+20: 33
GAME: Raethon casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 11 DC: 21

Rae checks on Garak and makes sure he's okay for the moment, but then his attention turns to Alba, and he uses a spell to break her out of it. "Alba....put a protection spell on yourself. This one is sick enough to try it again on one of us."

GAME: Alba casts Black Tentacles. Caster Level: 11 DC: 19

"Hzvrh?" Alba blinks, shaking her head... And then the memories of the last couple minutes come back in a rush. Like a striking viper she eels away through the air, hair writhing in fury.

"I WILL PEEL YOUR FACE AND WEAR IT FOR A HAT!"

Yep she's awake.

Suddenly her hair stabs down, digging deep into the dirt... And the patch of ground under and behind the vampire turns black, as thick rubbery tentacles explode upward. Grasping, crushing, flailing, smashing... Yeah it's chaos, of the sort Alba adores.

GAME: Alba rolls 1d20+11+4+1: (14)+11+4+1: 30
GAME: Alba rolls will: (5)+12: 17
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+20: (12)+20: 32
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+13: (2)+13: 15
GAME: Aftershock rolls 2d8+10: (4)+10: 14

Kol - the vampire looks up from amid the turmoil of tentacles and his green eyes capture Alba once again. "Beautiful. Such passion my friend!" He shakes his head and turns back to Garak, almost casually punching the other man in the face before burying his fist in the ground just to the side. "I am trying to be so gentle with you, but it is not easy for me to hold back. Say mercy and I will let you go. Say it." He whispers this last to Garak as if it is a lovely secret; leaning over the cleric.

GAME: Garak rolls 13: (5)+13: 18
GAME: Garak rolls 8: (7)+8: 15
GAME: Garak rolls 12: (3)+12: 15
GAME: Garak rolls 7: (11)+7: 18
GAME: Raethon casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 11 DC: 21

As soon as Rae sees the vampire look at Alba again, Rae reaches up with his staff and bops her on the forehead. "Protection spell. Otherwise you're just going to keep getting sucked in by him, Alba."

GAME: Alba casts Vermin Shape II. Caster Level: 11 DC: 19

Garak calls upon the Arts of Serriel. Curling his back into a hunch and his hands into pawlike gestures (although with opposable thumbs) he flings his legs over and rolls away. His gleaming lance suddenly fills his hands again and he jabs it at the man. His glowing spiritual lance also attacks, ut neither can penetrate the enemy's defenses.

Again Alba shakes off the control with Raethon's help, and again she screeches in fury. "I DO NOT HAVE SUCH MAGICS!" she roars, curling up in the air. "BUT I HAVE SOME WHICH ARE BETTER."

Again her hair cocoons around her, but this time when it shreds away... A sixteen-foot-long scorpion *thuds* to the ground, its stinger fairly *quivering* with poison.

GAME: Alba rolls will+2: (11)+12+2: 25

Like lightning the vampire is on his feet, his green eyes on Alba once more. Then quite suddenly his attention is taken away from the fight. "What do you mean? I was only-" He lets out a sigh and blows a kiss to Alba. "Such sweet sorrow my sweet, whatever your form. I will have to find you another day it seems." And then he is gone. Tracelessly and without a word of magic to see him away.

Raethon says, "I'm pretty sure he thinks you're someone else, Alba." he then shakes his head. "Well, we know he's the cause of the slimes."

Garak climbs to his feet, using the shaft of his lance like a staff to support himself. "I've rarely seen an enemy so formidable," he admits. Then he peers across the lake. "I'm not so sure that he was the cause. He spoke of being sent to 'collect' a sample." The thought seems to remind Garak of something and he goes to investigate the lake.

Raethon says, "Garak...I do not have another telekinesis spell if you get caught by the slime.""

Once the vampire disappears, the scorpion turns slightly toward Raethon... Then begins to lurch, as if dry-heaving. A section above the scorpion's face begins to swell and expand... Then bursts, ejecting the Witch onto the ground in a torrent of ectoplasmic fluid, as the tremendous arachnid begins to flake away.

"Yes," she breathes, her voice taut with fury. "He thinks I am his. And he is *wrong.*" As Garak moves toward the lake, Alba floats behind him, hair writhing as though itching to catch hold of the priest.

Only... there's no lake left. The whole body of water is gone and the stream is drying up. All that remains is the little trickle of water from the spring that feeds the lake. Or where the lake was in any case.

Raethon says, "I'm guessing that was the lake then. And he took it up." he then looks to Alba, but says nothing.

A low, snarling noise ripples from Alba's throat. Jar in hand, she dives down toward the lakebed, scooping up bits of dirt here and there from the mucky soil. "There is *nothing* that touches another thing and does not leave sign of its passing. *Nothing.*"

Garak nods in agreement. "Then where did the 'lake' first come from. And how did Kol and his mistress know to find it here?"

-End