Sound Mind
The dungeons which are attached to the Arcanist's Guild, are far from a pleasant experience. After being divested of all weapons and magical equipment, everyone is allowed downstairs, but the guards hadn't exactly been well-pleased by the fact that Aelwyn has decided to bring so many visitors to Jacob.
Which is why there is a guard leading you down. One that has already explained that he has no intention of leaving you all alone with Jacob. There's simply too many things that could go wrong.
The oppressive weight of the prison wraps around the mind, and the sound of desperate voices rises like an evil wind from below. Screams, whispers, the mumble of once-magic words which now hold no meaning and no power. Some of the prisoners they pass sit in an aching silence, seeing things that only their eyes know. Others stare with eyes that promise death if only freedom can be grasped. The threat of violence is whispered into life, but the words are hollow things and bars keep all locked carefully, securely away.
Eventually they reach Jacob's cell, and the man sits on his bed, a small book cradled in his hands. It's one that Aelwyn remembers. It's just an ordinary, mundane thing. A children's story about a cat who demands love and affection from a painter, keeps him company and provides him inspiration. A cat who dies, and the artist is so devoted to the creature, so loving, that they add it to their painting. The story ends with the cat living on in the painting, the love of their owner giving them new life. It's a story that Jacob has shared with Aelwyn many times.
The Goblin is cheerful, despite being divested of her weapon, the basket of sandwiches and her access to magic, things ever-present in her life. She's quiet for part of the journey, eyes darting everywhere. Her hands move to cover her ears after a time, to cut down on the whispers.
"They say that many here are mad. My question is, were they mad before, or after, they arrived here? So much magical power being spoken into empty air."
It is not Verna's first foray into the dungeons, not that such is a frequent destination. There is little for her to surrender as little was brought. For this semi-professional visit, she is attired in her Mourner's robes and gray cloak. Gloved hands are clasped before her as she steps, little attention granted to the cells they pass. "Such would vary by the individual, I presume," she notes in answer to the gobber's question. "Some were likely disturbed before, and most all certainly after, whatever interaction transpired for them to choose the path that led here."
Harkashan's steps bear no heaviness from his armor this day. Instead, they bear the heaviness of being in this place. There is an oppressiveness to the prisons beneath the arcanists' guild. And were the anti-magic field here to ever fail, it would be sure to be a most horrendous day. The screams and gazes follow him, and he does his very best to ignore them.
"Before." Harkashan answers Simony, from most of his understanding of all of this, while he adjusts what looks like a simple cloth. It's not a typical mourner's cloak, but instead something more colorful with golds and reds that wraps just enough around him to cover the places that the softskins find objectionable.
You can take the Sith-makar out of Am'shere, but you can't take the Am'shere out of the Sith-makar.
The Deathsinger touches a hand onto Aelwyn's shoulder for a moment. "Remember what you have spoken to Rune about. Temper your self-destructive habits." He rumbles heavily at the lithe and smol Sith-makar.
Aelwyn had spent a good amount of time to gather everyone he knew that could possibly help Jacob. He knew very little of magic, he knew even less of the matters of mind and that of beyond - but he wouldn't let such details to stop him. Hid away in this desolate, desperate place like a man that is demanded to be forgotten was his brother, after all. Family mattered. Family was all.
His brother.
Just the knowledge of Jacob rotting away here was a weight he could not shake off. "Only some." The ruddy sith-makar states then to the rest of the party, as if to make a point. He was doing his best not to grit his teeth at the discussion - mostly because deep within, he kept wondering the very same. At the touch on his shoulders and the words spoken to him, he takes in a deep breath and straightens a touch. Then he flashes his teeth at Harkashan. "Now why would this have any such urges, Lava?" He lightly taps the other's ankles with his tail. "The very greatest minds have gathered."
That said, he turns to look towards ahead. He had told the others about what they might find - but he never was himself fully prepared, as he approaches the cell. That book. He pauses for a moment, but then he breaks away from the group to slowly stroll forwards. "Brother." He rumbles with a low, thrumming chuckle. "That story again?"
Jacob looks up as they approach, offering a slight and hesitant smile as the book slides closed and is set aside. He smiles at the guard in brief, and then at Aelwyn. The guard steps back to allow everyone who wants it access to the cell.
"The guard was generous enough to bring it to me. It's always been my favorite... I find comfort in it." There's something unsaid there, but Jacob rises to his feet, and as he draws closer, the terrible scars that he's been marked with become clearer. He doesn't seem to be totally aware of this fact, but keeps his eyes completely focused on Aelwyn. "Hey brother. I see you've brought more friends with you this time."
"I will bite your horns short." Harkashan threatens when Aelwyn makes light of his words, while tilting his head a bit at Aelwyn. He then lays his hands behind his back and moves forward, flanking Aelwyn.
While there's no real risk of Jacob harming Aelwyn in a physical way, that's not why he moves to flank him. He's there to grab Aelwyn's tail and drag him out if he tries to do something foolish again.
Still, in that moment, he gives Jacob a good look. Getting a better idea of his physical state. And more importantly, his words and expressions for truth.
GAME: Harkashan rolls Heal: (3)+13: 16 GAME: Harkashan rolls Sense Motive: (4)+24: 28
Verna is not unaware of the significance regarding Simony's question and the brief discussion it prompted, and does not comment further as they reach the cell. Instead, she regards the occupant quietly, passively whilst Aelwyn steps ahead and engages. There is much to be learned from simple observation.
GAME: Simony rolls perception: (16)+14: 30 GAME: Verna rolls perception: (19)+29: 48 GAME: Verna rolls sense motive: (11)+15: 26
Simony nods in agreement with Hark and Verna. "The very greatest minds would not allow themselves to fall far enough to become worthy of being imprisoned here, one would think.", the Goblin says softly in reply to Aelwyn. She pauses a moment at the threshold of the cell, watching Aelwyn approach. The albino follows in his footsteps a few moments later, pausing to peer around from behind him, her eyes studying the book.
As Jacob notices the others, she steps around Aelwyn, and offers a courteous bow. "I am called Simony Smithsdottir.", she offers in a soft voice. Her ears flick at the mention of biting horns short, and she raises an eyebrow in Harkashan's direction before glancing back to Jacob. "May we examine you to check upon your health?", she continues, ignoring the studious staring by the lava-based Sith. "Are you being fed properly, and getting enough water?"
A little more time is spent scrutinizing the book. "It does seem special to you. Was it a gift from someone important to you?"
Aelwyn waves his horns with only few ribbons tied to them flauntingly at Harkashan, almost as if tempting the other to do just that. But that the other was still flanking him, did not make him react outwardly. It was just... appreciated. Even if intention was completely opposite of what the smaller sith-makar was thinking.
The Dragoon's scales had regained most of their typical colors; and while he may have carried few scuff marks there and there, he looked very much the same. "Hmmh, that story always felt strange." He replies, softly relaxing with a tense, forced exhale. "Hopeful, yet sad." Taking a longer look, he then nods, and gestures towards the rest of the group. "Verna, Harkashan, Simony." He introduces in turn in a somber tone, doing away with his usual monikers. "They are here to help."
At that, the draconian gives Jacob a bit sharper look, as if trying to quell the other's potential protest with a glance alone. Or maybe he didn't want to hear the harsh facts again.
Harkashan tilts his head again. Jacob seems like he's at least not bearing any new wounds, but also a bit thin. That checks out. Softskins are bad at keeping properly fattened up. Perhaps it's a survival strategy to seem less appealing to predators. A meager meal is not worth risking a fight over after all.
His focus drifts away from Jacob for now, and onto the Guard nearby. Stepping towards him. Working in a place like this must be most stressful, but Harkashan has long learned to trust his gut. So, he approaches him and bows his head. "Are you alright?" He inquires. "Is the stress of working here getting to you?"
Probably making Aelwyn's statement that they are here to help a little less potent - depending on how one reads his concern over the guard.
GAME: Harkashan rolls Diplomacy: (4)+19: 23
Verna glances to the book, confirming no unusual attributes as well as her trust in the guard's attention to duty and detail. Its title is noted for future reference, as well. Afterwards, the cell's occupant receives her full attention, along with a nod as Aelwyn names her. "You appear in a far better state than might be expected," a brief glance askew at Jacob's neighbor chewing on his mattress very much like the rat roomate. "Far better than some of your peers."
Jacob smiles sadly at Aelwyn, reading that expression as well as a brother should. It does not matter that they are of differing kinds, they are still family. That is a bond that is not born by blood, but by love. Even if that which was once love had been twisted to bitterness and hate for so long. "If you wish someone to look at me, I can hardly argue it can I?" The man smiles a little more and shrugs.
The guard glances nervously at Harkashan and shifts uncomfortably, glancing toward the prisoners, then back to Harkashan. "I... I... ah... I'm fine."
Jacob glances toward Verna and shrugs. The book is titled 'The Cat That Went To Heaven'. "It's actually more peaceful here than it was outside. I'm alone in my head at least, and... At least the voices I hear belong to people I can see."
GAME: Harkashan rolls Sense Motive: (4)+24: 28
The Goblin nods gently at Jacob. "Well, it is easier if we ask your permission, yes? You're already in a stressful situation, making you do something only makes it worse. By asking, we give you some control over the situation, which should put your a little more at ease. We do mean you no harm." She glances to Verna and nods in agreement. "We should talk to the management of the prison, and ask them to give more fresh fruit and vegetables, and perhaps a bit more meat. And water."
Simony sighs and rubs at her forehead lightly. "So, Jacob, are you able to tell us what happened? What you remember of the performance, and the things leading up to it, and immediately after? I know you have probably spoken of this at uhm length... with the magistrates and officials. But we're hoping to unravel the mysteries and see if things can be put right, yes? We're willing to help you."
GAME: Harkashan rolls Diplomacy: (17)+19: 36
Harkashan's tail twitches in an irritated manner. He's a Speaker after all. The fear on this Guard is /heavy/. Certainly, this place is one that costs one's psyche quite a bit. But should guards not be used to this kind of thing?
Harkashan puts his hand on the Guard's shoulder and pats it. "I can smell the fear wafting off of you. I believe I even smell fear-pee." He tells the guard firmly with a deep guttural growl in his voice - the one that is always present, but is no doubt not helpful for someone in the guard's situation. "Perhaps you require a vacation." The toothy Sith-makar rumbles with a few hisses interspersed. Blinking its nictating membrane for a moment.
"You can tell me if something is wrong." He promises the guard, before looking back over to Jacob and Aelwyn. Speaking of books. Making sure he keeps his main focus on the troublesome firetail.
Verna's neutral countenance softens notably, if briefly, at Jacob's words of quiet and peace, external and internal. "I understand." It is made plain that she does hold some experience of that situation. "It is perhaps as beneficial, if not more, that your stay here protects you as much or more than it protects others. As well, we are here to assist..."
Her line of thought, or at least conversation, drifts along with her attention towards Harkshan and the guard. "Is all well, Death-Singer?"
There's a bit of a bristling from Aelwyn suddenly, and he clicks his teeth. "This one's brother is strong." He states flat as a fact, apparently having started to take a bit offense on Jacob's behalf. "He can survive a conversation." Though, with the concerned look he gives Jacob then, those words were probably more aimed at himself.
"Hmmh, well, if this one brought a few rolls of silk, a few chandeliers, this would be just comfortable." The Dragoon flashes his teeth at Jacob then. He glances his eye towards Harkashan, wondering what the other sith-makar was doing, but he didn't let his attention linger too long.
Obviously the guard was getting bullied because fuck that guy.
The draconian then takes a deep breath, gesturing towards the others. "They know much of the story, but not the details you know that I cannot speak."
The guard seems to relax under Harkashan's touch and he nods. "You're right." His eyes meet Harkashan's. "I'm sorry."
There's a glitter of unshed tears from the man and then he turns away and bolts for the door.
Which is when the chaos of all chaos blooms into existence. It's not just one thing, it's so many - too many - things happening all at once. Harkashan and Verna feel their connection to the divine reopen. Jacob falls to his knees, clawing at his face and screaming. "No! NO! Not again!"
Fire rolls across the prison, and people scream. Agony, victory, madly. Several people just vanish. The bars melt into nonexistence. There are no doors between the prisoners that remain, and those that had been in the hall.
All hell has _truly_ broken loose.
GAME: Harkashan rolls Spellcraft: (9)+19: 28 GAME: Harkashan rolls Spellcraft: (9)+19: 28 GAME: Harkashan casts Prayer. Caster Level: 12 DC: 20 GAME: Harkashan casts Status. Caster Level: 12 DC: 19 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+20: (5)+20: 25
I'm sorry.
Those are words Harkashan has heard for decades. But it's not often he hears it with this inflection. "Don't..." Harkashan rumbles, grabbing for the Guard. But the guard is too quick.
He bolts, and then... Chaos.
Harkashan lets out a series of curses in Draconic that would make /Rune/ take notes. He then quickly takes a small gem out of his pockets, and throws it at Jacob...
Only for the gem to shatter.
Further cursing follows, as he instead sends a prayer out onto the group. "Something has evil has taken hold of this place. If you give me a moment, I can try to undo some of this foul presence! But I am not certain."
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+10: (2)+10: 12 GAME: Simony rolls reflex: (7)+7: 14 GAME: Verna rolls reflex: (2)+8: 10 GAME: Harkashan rolls Reflex: (5)+5: 10 GAME: Aelwyn rolls reflex: (14)+5: 19 GAME: Aftershock rolls 4d8: (19): 19
A second blast of fire rolls over the room, and some of the prisoners rush for the door. Not all. Some are still lost to their own mind. Some are injured by the previous blast. One grasps Aelwyn with hands grown long with claws and throws the sith-makar into a nearby wall. The prisoner's long hair covers their face, and they growl at the group in a dangerous manner. Jacob stops clawing at his head and rises to his feet in a well of unnatural calm. His eyes are burning red coals, and his body shudders with the force of some evil that has slipped inside him.
GAME: Simony rolls 4d6: (10): 10
Simony's eyebrows rise up slightly, and the corners of her mouth twitch, a very slight frown forming. "It is precisely that way of thinking that leads people to their doom, Aelwyn.", she chides. "If you still wonder why Dolan was so angry, this attitude is what lead to it." She sighs lightly.
"We all believe we are strong, but we are mortal. We cannot fathom the depths of which fiends can delve, and that is what leads people astray. Your brother has been hurt, and he needs help. We are here to render such aid, and to put things right."
"But that does not change the... fuck is happening here?!" The Goblin looks completely surprised, and staggers a little. "Uuuuhhhhhh... can you feel your Gods again?" Simony's holy symbol begins to glow, her eyes closing as if to shut out the terrible sights happening around her. "Navos, the all-seeing Raven, hear my prayers and grant my puny body the power of the divine. Heal my companions wounds and ills." The light brightens and diffuses into those nearby, the stings of pain lessening and wounds closing.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+20: (13)+20: 33 GAME: Aftershock rolls 2d8+10: (7)+10: 17 GAME: Aelwyn rolls melee: (13)+11: 24 GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage0: aliased to 1d3+2: (2)+2: 4 GAME: Verna casts Blessing of Fervor. Caster Level: 19 DC: 18 GAME: Verna casts Dimensional Anchor. Caster Level: 19 DC: 18 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+19+intelligence: (3)+19+4: 26 GAME: Verna rolls ranged: (16)+12: 28
"Tch, do not compare this one to _him_". Aelwyn grits his teeth to Simony. And as he glowered, he felt none of the change around him - but he hears the screams, and his eyes open. "JACOB!-" The ruddy sith-makar shouts, before he is engulfed in flames time, and time again. And when the flames cease and he is standing once again, scales shimmering - he is instantly attacked by one of the prisoners, flung away violently.
Getting back up on his feet, the ruddy sith-makar - without his weapon, without any of his trinkets, only wearing his loincloth and breastplate - runs past the prisoner, throwing off a punch at the man's face whilst his own guts get slashed. Bleeding heavily, he shakes his head. "Do not harm him!" He calls out to the others, then looks towards Jacob. Whatever was in there - was not his brother. "Get away from him!" He then spits at the creature inhabiting Jacob.
He dared to hope it was not his brother.
GAME: Harkashan casts Hallow. Caster Level: 12 DC: 20
Verna rather abhors chaos... or she did so in the past. Recent frequent contact with all things fey (BS) have lessened that. Somewhat. Yet -here- of all places, chaos is a terrible thing, and she is already singed and smoldered before she has any inkling of what is happening. And her initial inkling is not good. Some of the prisoners may have already escaped, or were vaporized, but others remain, and Jacob... does not appear to be Jacob, fully, any longer.
"They cannot be allowed free!" she calls loudly to all before clasping her Scales and beseeching the Harpist to embolden her servants and allies. Her free hand begins a gesture of its own and she sends a corscating emerald green ray at Jacob. Not to harm him, but, in effect, to protect him, by making any forced exit more difficult.
GAME: Simony rolls spellcraft: (18)+6: 24 GAME: Harkashan casts Invisibility Purge. Caster Level: 12 DC: 18
Flames wave over the area, flooding over the group. The Sith-makar doesn't even move, so certain in his ability to deal with flames. Flooding over him as it burns off his fanciful red-and-golden clothing. The Sith-makar even mildly singed from the wave of heat.
Before Aelwyn gets the chance to say anything, Harkashan lifts a finger. "Now is not the time." As the Sith-makar kneels down and presses his right hand to the ground. Fingers spreading. Drawing a white light from the ground and then snapping his finger - cause pale light to radiate out from him, searing away at any that might be seeking to be invisible.
"I recommend we retreat. We have no way of dealing with this in the short term - it has control over the area. Retreat, regroup, and figure out a plan." As much as he would be loathe to abandon Jacob, this is not the time to let his friends die in a scenario that would be rather difficult to deal with. <draconic>
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+20: (18)+20: 38 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+10: (5)+10: 15 GAME: Harkashan rolls CMB: (12)+10: 22 GAME: Aelwyn rolls will: (18)+3: 21
One of the prisoners starts chanting, but the words seem to have no effect. The second runs for the stairs, but is tripped by Harkashan's tail and ends up flat on the floor. Others are beyond Harkashan already. Up the stairs and headed toward freedom. The last prisoner grabs Aelwyn again, throwing the small sith-makar back into the wall that he had only just risen from.
Jacob moves toward the downed sith, kneeling and laying his hand on the other man. "Come with us brother. Don't fight us. Come _with_ us." The evil presence in Jacobs mind reaches out into Aelwyn's. Touching the edges of his consciousness. Seeking fear, seeking weakness. It finds love, love for Jacob. Love for a brother.
But even love can be corrupted given enough time.
GAME: Simony rolls 4d8+8: (19)+8: 27 GAME: Simony casts Blessing of Fervor. Caster Level: 8 DC: 18
"Are you listening? I am not comparing you to Dolan!" The Goblin frowns at Aelwyn, despite him then being thrown across the room by a former 'prisoner'. She lets out a long sigh watching the gestures made as Verna casts her spells. "Excellent choices.", she says under her breath, relieved that one of them was quite familiar to her.
Harkashan's actions and words have her nodding in agreement almost immediately. She moves quickly towards Aelwyn, her holy symbol suddenly glowing brightly as she draws upon her deity's power. "White Raven, heal my companion of his wounds, and grant this frail body a mote of your strength!"
The light leaves her holy symbol, and covers Aelwyn in a pale, white glow, his wounds stitching themselves closed, and the pain fading under a cool touch. Her hand then grasps Aelwyn with an impressive strength, as she 'helps' him to stand. "Time. To. Go!"
Aelwyn's orange eyes were wide as they flung from Harkashan - mouth opening briefly and then falling shut. He heard the calls for retreat, but his attention was mostly on Jacob, trying to figure out a way out, trying to _understand_. Then the prisoner is back onto him, flinging him to the wall with another bone crunching crack, leaving him groaning for a moment as blood sputters out from his jaw.
Orange eyes look towards Jacob as he - they - approach steadily. For a briefest moment, he considered the suggestion. Would it be so bad to be with Jacob?
Then he remembered that pained cry. "This one does not know who or what you are," The draconian spits out, eyes narrowing. He coughs out again, heart beating in his chest. "... but let him go, you worthless fuck."
Then Simony hauls him up and he for a moment resists, even as he feels the strength returning to him. 'No, no-' He breathes, then snarls, even growls at Jacob. Those gleaming red eyes. He wasn't resisting being pulled away. "Let him go, or I wil tear you apart." Sharp teeth displayed in macabre display.
Verna cannot argue that their position here and now is far from ideal. Possibly untenable. Yet leaving a broken prison for the prisoners to flee is perhaps equally so. She does withdraw towards the exit, though she does not turn her back upon the threats still within, specifically Jacob. "Release him! He is no longer your voluntary servant" she demands and posits of the presumed fiend, though there is no enforcement behind it beyond her emphasis.
GAME: Harkashan rolls Spellcraft+2: (11)+14+2: 27 GAME: Harkashan casts Greater Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 12 DC: 21 GAME: Harkashan rolls Cleric: (11)+12: 23
"Aelwyn! We have to go!" Harkashan calls out to the smaller Sith-makar. Luckily, Simony is showing to be /remarkably/ strong, and Aelwyn isn't fighting her. But he feels for Aelwyn. In the back of his mind, he can imagine Aelwyn why he didn't try harder. Why they had to abandon Jacob...
So in that moment, he tries something. He's not certain if this will work, but he reaches out. Drawing upon his divine gift, he points at the spot right beneath Jacob. "Verna or Simony, I need you to try and protect Jacob from evil - I'm trying one last thing!"
Suddenly, a pale-red light forms into a pillar, splashing out from Jacob's position and achingly, slowly, pushing away with difficulty - the area around Jacob. "I'm trying to keep this under control - but this may not last long!" He's uncertain. "So you better hurry!"
GAME: Aelwyn rolls will: (15)+3: 18
Jacob rises to his feet, and his eyes are burning red, the fires of hell burning inside him. The rage on his face is not his own. Yet it only lasts a moment. Then the light fades and Jacob staggers. He reaches out for Aelwyn, reaching for his brother. "Please, brother! Don't leave me! Don't leave me alone with it! Please! Please!"
Tears flow down his face and his fingers brush against the scale of Aelwyn's own claw. They're touching but not connected. All Aelwyn has to do is take the hand offered to him. That other mind is there. Offering Aelwyn a place at his brother's side. Offering that they can be together.
If only Aelwyn will say yes.
Doesn't Aelwyn want to be with his brother?
Aelwyn vaguely heard the others shouting something, the people trying to leave - all that. Somewhere in the back of his mind - but Jacob was on his feet again. The Dragoon's eyes widened, and he was taking a step forward instinctively as he _saw_ Jacob. And his heart freezes at those words. A sinking ache in his heart. A void that threatens to devour him.
It would have been so easy. To solve this complexity and all the pain that he has woven. To simply let go. Yet, with everything that has happened, with a feeling of familiar, but alien will...
"... I won't. I won't." He replies quietly. "I shan't leave you alone with that _fucking_ thing." He grits his teeth, looking as if ready to lunge and tear into Jacob; if there only was something he could physically rip apart.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+12: (7)+12: 19 GAME: Simony casts Magic Circle Against Evil. Caster Level: 8 DC: 17 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+7: (19)+7: 26
The Goblin tussles with Aelwyn, her strength being shortchanged by leverage, resulting in neither of them getting very far. But the plea from Jacob, and his momentary change in demeanor, catches Simony's attention. Her eyes flick to Aelwyn a moment, his reaction causing her mouth to open...
"NO!"
With an effort that makes her grunt, she runs and throws herself at Jacob's feet, under his attempt to intercept her. "OhshitsorryNavosnotimeforprayer,helpmecastoutthefiend!"
There's a lengthy pause, as if somewhere distant, someone or something is pondering a rudely put request. But then her holy symbol flashes, the light illuminating Jacob brightly enough to cast a shadow on the back wall... a shadow bent and twisted, not hardly matching Jacob's form! "GET THEE GONE, FIEND!"
Verna suspects an opening that is confirmed with the Death-Singer's urgent directive. She begins to move towards Jacob and the too-near Aelwyn and is already beginning to beseech The Harpist when Simony shifts from one brother to another. Her focus remains on Jacob afterwards and the words remain upon her lips, as a contingency. Fiends are not a trifling foe, and she will not be surprised a second time.
GAME: Harkashan casts Owl's Wisdom. Caster Level: 12 DC: 17
Harkashan calls out; "Its influence has waned, it cannot take hold of him /for now/. Let us depart quick - take Jacob with us. We need to take him to a Hallowed place..." Pause. "Which I will have to create." Somewhere.
Future Harkashan Problems.
"And lock this place up as fast as we can. The guards should hopefully show up soon." He just hopes they won't get blamed.
"Aelwyn, grab your brother and let's go. We need to make sure this nonsense doesn't recur within town. We also need priests to aid us."
GAME: Aelwyn rolls strength: (14)+2: 16
Aelwyn grits his teeth, watching Simony fly off - but he does as he is instructed. He was still at loss what was happening, yet he quickly crosses the distance over to Jacob. "Let us leave, brother." He says with great urgency, "We will take care of you, but we have to leave."
The Dragoon reaches out and attempts to grab Jacob by his arm, trying to drag him away - but the other one resists. "... brother, we have to leave!" He grits his teeth. "I won't leave you!"
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+7: (9)+7: 16
There's a feeling in the air. A sense of evil that sickens. Simony can feel the moment her spell cracks under the weight of that evil. Shattering like glass. Jacob's knees buckle and he tries to speak. Tries to tell Aelwyn something, something important but...
Jacob's eyes burn red, and his fingers curl into Aelwyn's arm. That promise is back. The promise of being together, but the fiend is the one that speaks. Not Jacob. "If you will not join us then..."
The fiend pushes Aelwyn away, and rushes for the exit blocked by Harkashan.
GAME: Simony rolls cmb+1+2+4: (19)+6+1+2+4: 32
Simony stands up with a sigh, very relieved that her spell /seems/ to work. "We definitely need to get out of here. The fact that the guards have not flooded in here says one of two things: they have no idea of what to do, or they've already fled or cowering in fear..."
The wee woman grunts and stumbles a moment as the weight of evil bears down upon her, her eyes becoming saucers as her spell shatters like so much glass. She's more aware of the movement than actually seeing it, and with another grunt she runs full tilt at Jacob's legs, catching him at the knees, which buckle, and the two tumble together, entangled arms and legs.
Aelwyn's eyes widen and then he exposes his own teeth in anger, but then Jacob-fiend dashes off. Twisting on his spot, he curses underneath his breath in his native tongue and chases after him. Simony is faster though, but the draconian is not too far off.
"One shan't be able to join you to the merciless pit where I will drag you, demon." The ruddy sith-makar hisses, doing his best to pin Jacob down without causing any actual permanent damage.
GAME: Verna rolls cmb: (6)+10: 16 GAME: Aelwyn rolls cmb: (2)+11: 13 GAME: Aelwyn rolls cmb: (18)+11: 29
Verna does not have any ready magical means of restraint or incapacitation at hand. Not any that are innately non-lethal, that is. She considers doffing her robe for use as makeshift bindings, but there is not yet time. Thus, she joins the Jacob/fiend/gobber/makari pile in attempt to help subdue. Neither her mass nor her strength are notable, also, but one additional straw can break the proverbial back, yes?
"Aelwyn!" Harkashan calls out that name the moment he hears the bid for Aelwyn's mind. Bolstering his kin. "Let us pull him out of the area that is resisting the Magic Circle against evil - outside of this prison." He notes. "Once far enough away, we can re-apply it. But I suspect it will affect this entire building until it is undone." He motions, ready to trip him if he manages to escape...
But Harkashan does step out, leading the group, but remains at the ready to intercept.
GAME: Simony rolls reflex: (4)+7: 11 GAME: Simony rolls reflex: (14)+7: 21 GAME: Aftershock rolls 5d8: (24): 24
Jacob screams, and it's not the sound of the demon. Flames burn over his body, rolling over everyone who is touching him. It's hot, so hot. The world narrows down to that heat. Only Harkashan is far enough away to avoid it, even when Simony quickly rolls away the flames cling to her. Burning. Burning.
"AELWYN!" Jacob screams, the sounds of a dying man, burning alive - again. Then, softer, gentler. "Let me go. Let me go."
Is he talking to Aelwyn? The fiend? Someone else? His voice is dying, and so is he.
GAME: Simony rolls will: (8)+12: 20 GAME: Simony rolls 4d6: (17): 17
Once more the Goblin appears to be on top of things, and once more, circumstances intervene. At the sudden appearance of fire, Simony squeaks in surprise, and by the time she is able to scoot backwards on her hands and feet, flames have begun to consume her robes and hair.
Her scream is higher pitched than Jacob's but beats it in length, as she attempts to put the flames out, rolling about upon the prison's floor.
Smoldering and shivering in near shock, the Goblin's now-raspy voice calls upon her deity once again, asking for relief.
The pale glow that follows is her answer.
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+19+intelligence: (18)+19+4: 41 GAME: Verna casts Resist Energy. Caster Level: 19 DC: 16
Aelwyn was not afraid of fire. He wasn't even afraid of the smell of things burning, of clothes catching on fire, of that sickening smell of flesh being roasted... but he was afraid of seeing Jacob's face distorted in pain like that.
Within an instant, he snaps up to his feet and starts pushing Verna off him, snarling out loud, "LET HIM GO!" He bellows in rage, for once not directed at the fiend, but to the others. "I will kill it." He promises Jacob, claws flexing in the air helplessly as he stands above him. "I will kill it."
GAME: Harkashan casts Telepathic Bond. Caster Level: 12 DC: 20
Verna is again surprised by fire, and its effects. Which are unpleasant when people are the ones being cooked. She is among them as she lacks scale, much less heat-resistant ones. After being pushed free by Aelywn, she blinks. Then frowns. "We are trying to help him! Let me aid him!" She incants and forms a new spell, and once more reaches for Jacob. This time, however, it is only for a touch, and not to grab at nor sit on him as before.
GAME: Harkashan rolls Diplomacy+2: (15)+19+2: 36
Seeing the attempts to burn Jacob, his allies suffering, Aelwyn trying his best to free Jacob. It's a miserable sight. Screaming around them. Prisoners still trying to escape. Every second growing more and more untenable!
"Jacob!" He calls out... but it's hard to truly reach Jacob.
So, a motion of his fingers, pointing at Jacob, the world around just the two of them suddenly seems to get quieter. Duller, as a bond between minds is established.
~"Jacob. You will be able to hold on."~ He tries to impress upon him, before turning towards the other presence there. The Demon isn't here, not truly, but it may be able to hear him.
~"Leave this man's mind this instant."~ It's a statement made with authority. ~"Or are you but a Mere Daemon, simply out to feast on Suffering?"~
GAME: Verna rolls spellcraft+4: (20)+33+4: 57
Jacob rises to his feet, the flames on his body flickering out. His clothes, his _body_ are in ruins. It should be impossible for him to be awake this badly wounded, and even Simony's spell has only kept him on the barest precipice of that which is called life. Somehow, he moves forward. Drags a body blackened and cracked by flame toward Harkashan.
In Jacob's mind, the man is screaming. Clawing at the demon within. Begging it to leave. Begging it to kill him. Wrestling for control, and in that moment Harkashan knows that it is Jacob that set himself on fire. That Jacob has no hope of freedom from the demon. It is inside his mind, and since he can not be free of it... He feels his only hope is to not take everyone else with him.
The fiend turns is baleful attention on Harkashan. ~My Name is written in this mind. He carries me wherever he goes. He will never be free. I will always be inside him. Yes, I will feast upon his suffering, even as I feast on the suffering of those he will cause pain to. It will be glorious."~ The body stands before Harkashan.
GAME: Harkashan rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (7)+3: 10 GAME: Harkashan rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (20)+3: 23 GAME: Harkashan rolls Heal: (4)+11: 15 GAME: Harkashan rolls Heal: (7)+11: 18
Harkashan's eyes are practically aglow with light for a moment. As his vision shifts, gazing beyond the physical. Beyond the blackened body. Calling out to Jacob; ~"You are not beyond help. Give us time. But I need you to step out of this place!" Harkashan speaks into his mind. Motioning for him to approach as the fiend turns its attention to him.
"The Fiend has placed a Summoning Circle within the man's mind itself." He then calls out to his allies. "It is truly -within Jacob-." Before grimacing. He's not going to admit to Jacob that he doesn't know what best to do about it. Perhaps, through the telepathic bond, he might catch some of that hesitation. But there's also something else. Faith. Not in the Death Singing Dragon, but in his friends and allies - that they'll know what to do.
GAME: Simony rolls Heal: (6)+12: 18 GAME: Simony rolls Heal+5: (3)+12+5: 20
It's takes her some effort to pull herself together, and with a pained grunt, Simony picks herself up off the ground. She huffs in annoyance at the state of her robes, one arm and leg bared, the skin on both limbs beet red and blistered to some degree.
Still, her ears straighten at what Harkashan says. Her eyes narrow, and with shaking hands, she rummages through a small pouch that is ever-present on her belt. "Hold him down...", she says with a sniff. "This... I don't know if I can but I will try. We uh we need to operate. Now. It will hurt, it will be messy and there's a good chance of ... well we'll worry about that after. We have to open up his skull."
"That _thing_ will burn him alive if we don't let him go!" Aelwyn hisses at Verna, in frustration, perhaps misreading the situation. He was stepping around the burning man, his heart rapidly beating as he tried to rack up something to say, something to do, something to _give_...
He had nothing. No blade to draw. No potion to give. No quip to throw out. The others' words start to shell into him and his orange eyes widen. This was hell. No, this wasn't hell. Wherever Jacob was, _that_ was hell.
The Dragoon opens up his mouth as if to _yell_ at everyone, but instead he snaps it shut and steps closer towards the painfully burnt man. "Jacob." He starts, "Brother. Please." His hands start to reach out, but unsure if he should touch. His voice was growing heavily sibilant, his words starting to slur together into serpentine sounds. "You are the strongest-" His voice sharply cuts off and he breathes. "You can do it."
"Let them help you kill this thing."
Verna is still attempting to parse Harkashan's revelation on Jacob's true affliction, and that is a great deal to parse. She has had her own head removed by a fiend, who also later took up residence there, as it were... and yet this is ... a novel situation to her. Simony's epiphany is a course of action, though has its own risks and concerns.
Verna moves beside the gobber. "I shall assist however I may. We shall must improvise implements if time is critical; a blade and another serrated with which to saw." She is knowledgeable of anatomy, but her primary role was as mortician. Her bedside manner may be somewhat lacking.
GAME: Harkashan casts Bear's Endurance. Caster Level: 12 DC: 17 GAME: Harkashan rolls 6d6: (24): 24
Harkashan approaches Jacob in that moment, and rumbles; "Jacob, do not set yourself on fire again. You need not become a martyr. However... this is going to hurt. A lot. It's absolutely crucial you move as little as possible." As he touches him and applies a spell to bolster his physical body, whilst simultaneously sending his divine gift into him. Healing him, and his allies around him. He will hold him down as soon as he can, but he wishes to ensure Jacob is bolstered first.
Let's hope no prisoners try to mess this up.
GAME: Simony rolls heal+5: (10)+12+5: 27 GAME: Harkashan rolls Heal: (9)+11: 20 GAME: Verna rolls heal: (10)+17: 27 GAME: Aelwyn rolls heal: (18)+1: 19
Jacob's body doesn't move, doesn't react to Harkashan's touch, although the healing magic repairs the damage done to him. In the recesses of his mind he throws himself at the fiend. The body is laid down, and is restrained with willing hands and firm determination. The battle that Harkashan witnesses then is one is more terrifying, and soul-scorching than he could have dreamed possible.
The fiend knows well how to torment a soul, and there are things that one can do to a mind that can not be done to a body. Things that can be seen and never unseen. Terrors which call to the very heart of a person, and tear them down in ways that they may never recover from. The fiend has had an eternity to perfect itself, and Jacob is only one man. Time stretches out immeasurably in the space of thought, and there are many, many times when Jacob falls. Where it becomes too much to bear.
In those moments he looks at Aelwyn and remembers love.
When the fiend turns on Harkashan, Jacob is there. Bloodied, mad, but always there. He saves Harkashan from every pain he can, save the knowledge of the battle he witnesses between these two minds.
"I love you." Jacob whispers the words, fills himself with the knowledge that Aelwyn is here. Harkashan is deep enough to know the truth of Jacob now. That if Jacob had been born sith-makar, he would have confessed another kind of love long ago. That in the depths of his soul Jacob has always felt the resonance of Aelwyn's. That he'd wanted to fly too.
Jacob should die. With no proper tools, with only hands and claws and will they crack open his skull and ruin the circle that exists within. Jacob should die. With two Death-singers standing over him, Vardama spares him her grace. Jacob should die, but love holds him tight in life.
Jacob lives instead.
The improbable happens on the floor of the prison, despite the misery both within and without. It takes the will and determination of not just Simony, nor the combined might of three clerics commanding powers to MAKE. THINGS. HAPPEN, but also the power of one Jacob and his will not just to live, or protect others, but to love.
The Goblin, exhausted and shivering, stands on legs that really don't want to, and wobbles away. Her sniffles and sobs can be heard receding into the darkness, as she seeks to exit this place. Once a prison, now simply pure misery, but also bearing the spark of hope.
Harkashan, unfortunately, very much has the experience of having to surgically help people who are very much alive - and very much awake. It's what has drawn him to know to cast certain spells to bolster him.
In the midst of the surgery however, it's quite easy to tell that Harkashan isn't fully there. He's aiding Verna and Simony. Offering her what little he has in the ways of 'tools' on him -- largely in the form of some components he carries in a pouch. A sharp gem to drill. An angled stone to cut. Holy Water to disinfect...
But in the end, he's fighting a different battle. He's bearing witness to Jacob. People close enough to him might notice his maw moving. But he is not speaking to them. He's speaking to Jacob within his mind. Pushing for him to get back up. Reminding him of Aelwyn. What pain does come through, Harkashan can bear. As a Deathsinger, pain has been something he's lived with for much of his life.
Slowly, he starts to see Jacob's strength. To see who he is within, as he bears himself to the devil that would have his soul. So he speaks to Aelwyn, for just a moment, grabbing him by the hand to lay it on Jacob's heart. "Speak to him, let him know you are here. He needs you." He rumbles to Aelwyn, as the surgery continues...
Until finally, relief comes.
Verna assists the process with a detached focus upon the task at hand. The patient may as well be a cadaver and is treated with the same utmost respect. That Jacob is yet with the living, and wishes to remain so now, is all the more reason for clinical attention to detail. Other concerns can be addressed later, after the patient is treated. That Jacob remains so after is testament to his own will and desire... and the will of The Cycle.
It is not yet his appointed time.
Aelwyn had seen such gore before. One does not pick up the path of a blade if one expects to not see blood spilled. And he and Jacob had seen enough together.
Watching his brother being torn open though - with tools crude as sharp stone, a piece of a holy water, on a body that was literally living on a prayer. The skull opened. The Dragoon knew, if for a single instant he paused to regard the scene, he'd lose his will. Have that brief doubt into his heart, that maybe Jacob would be better off-
So he didn't. He wasn't a healer, but he had seen enough wounds to know how to aid in simple things like blotting out blood, helping the patient stay still, to stay out of the way. His mind was racing in the moment, constantly trying to stay ahead of the dark thoughts creeping in. That he might lose Jacob. That it might be better, too.
His hand is taken, and Aelwyn stops, orange eyes turning towards Harkashan. He didn't need any explanation - instead, he turns towards Jacob. Talking with an unnatural calmness, he speaks to him if as if they were just sharing stories by the campfire; telling him stories from their past, how proud of him he is, how glad he is to be here. How _certain_ he was that Jacob would pull through. His tongue slips into draconic and into thick accented one at that, but he doesn't stop, just keeps on talking until it is all over. It was all as if it was nothing strange was happening. He tried to remain calm and a constant presence, even when he very lightly started shaking, the heavy beat of his heart occasionally causing his words to catch.
Then, when it is all over and Jacob lives - he leans forward, orange eyes staring into Jacob's. "You deserve more than a life in a painting, Jacob." The Dragoon says quietly - before his head falls to rest against the very heart his hand had been in. And he lets out a long, loud, shrill cry as all that anger, frustration and desperation comes out of him. And relief. So much, painful relief.
At that moment, with Aelwyn venting his emotions above his heart, Jacob closes his eyes. Not to die, but merely to rest. His body, his mind, his soul, finally at peace. For the first time since Aelwyn left, he smiles and it's a real smile, real joy.
"I love you too."
-End