Tiny but Evil
The snow is falling particularly heavily today. The temple district fountain would have frozen over solid if not for having been turned off to save it from such. So it sits empty. Cold and lifeless.
The area itself isn't far from lifeless either. Not many people are about, but there are a few pop-up merchant stands selling of all things... dolls. Mostly of the clerics in the area. "Get your Mourner Verna! Get your Mourner Verna! Look how devout she looks! Buy one now and we'll throw in a complementary Auranar! Buy the wifely couple today!"
And so on.
And of course this is when Telamon and Verna arrive. Walking alongside his sister-in-law, Telamon is wrapped in a heavy fur-lined cloak, more to keep the snow off than anything else. His pace slows as he catches sight of the stalls, selling... dolls. Of Verna. And probably other famed adventurers.
"Don't the temples usually... restrict this sort of thing?" Tel asks Verna. "It's one thing to purchase joss offerings or holy water, but this seems a little... tawdry." The elegant half-elf's expression is faintly disapproving. "I mean, I'll never deny a person a chance to earn an honest coin but we have an entire trades district for this..."
Verna has walked the temple district many, many times, if oft as a thoroughfare to elsewhere as some temples lie outside its courtyards. This day is ... different. She is moderately girded against the chill, wind, and snow in a gray cloak though the hood is doffed. Beneath, a layered dress in subdued hues of green and brown, but the outerwear might make her resemble far too well any toys made in her past image.
Her thin frown may not distance her from the representations, either. "The use of the temple district for such is somewhat distasteful," she concurs, "yet no temple would want to grant any appearance of oppression of others, save for The Tyrant, perhaps." Her inflection is neutral and flat, her eyes oft rising to observe the falling snow more than their course or what wares are hawked around them. "I acquired a superior representation of Auranar in the upper trades district."
Carver is leading her horse by the rein, walking Deathless through the streets. Forced to be cooped up in a livery stable and born to run far and fast across plains, but much like the ranger, not immune to the cold that just keeps burying the city beneath layers of frost. She sniffs, wrinkling her nose, before bringing up a scarf to cover her lower face once more. One day, she will ascend to the great hunters of old, who do not quail in the face of the cold or heat but today is not that day.
Tunk lifts a brow at the display of dolls. He picks one of Verna up and looks it over. "What be the point o' these?" he asks the merchant. "Does it do anything interestin'? Do the clothes come off or somethin?" He puts it back down.
GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (5)+33: 38 GAME: Tunk rolls perception: (20)+2: 22 GAME: Carver rolls perception: (17)+15: 32 GAME: Verna rolls perception: (17)+29: 46
The merchant blinks at Tunk. "No. 'Course not. That would be tawdry. They're of a blessed favored of Vardama. They're for good luck!" He motions to a small cord in the back. "Also if you pull the cord it'll speak a blessing for you!" He seems very pleased with this indeed.
Tunk snorts faintly at the merchant's words. His eyes shift towards the fountain. A brow lifts. Then he mutters, "Somethin ain't right with that doll o'er yonder. Look at its eyes." He loads a bolt as he speaks.
"I mean, in Ylvaliel they disallow merchants in the temple quarter -- mostly because the priests think people should be focusing on the gods, not their purses." Telamon shrugs. "But you make a good point. Maybe I'll raise that question next time I'm home."
Then Telamon does a double take at Verna. "...You did?" He pauses, then smirks. "Maybe I should get one of Lana then, and she can get one of me. Don't know who'd get the Pothy one, though." He watches the dwarf speaking to one of the merchants, before his gaze sweeps past to land on Carver. "Looks like even the rangers aren't keen on the snow," he remarks, watching her pull her scarf up.
Between the snowfall and Auranar plushies, Verna is somewhat distracted in her own musings. Pointed ears are yet keen, however, and her attention is finally taken by the merchant at mention of blessings uttered. "Intriguing." She alters her steps somewhat to take her nearer the seller and lifts her voice towards him.
"What blessings does it speak? I trust that you committed the necessary research to ensure that the statements align with The Harpist's tenets?" Whilst waiting for that answer, Telamon draws her attention towards Carver and, en route (and care of the khazad's mention) she also notices the doll. "As well, you may have misplaced one of your wares."
Carver was passing Tunk, missing him being fresh, but catching his passing remark about yet more creepy dolls. She does not spot the creature first but instead uses his gaze to pinpoint the same target with a wrinkled brow. Even Verna, the very image of inspiration of the doll, does not break her stare.
There *is* a doll standing on the apex of the fountain. It's not a Verna doll either. It has glowing red eyes and long black hair. Pale 'skin' and dark clothes as it stands on top of the fountain watching the small group approach the other dolls. "Threaten me?"
It's voice is not the voice of a doll, but the voice of a man, a voice that is familiar to some. To those who heard Eclavdran speak once upon a time. It's burning red eyes bore into Verna's and it's expression becomes that of a grin. "Hello again. Time to play."
And some of the little dolls on the stand beside Tunk begin to animate. One of them actually trying to climb up the man's arm. Seems like its going for his crossbow!
GAME: Verna rolls will+2: (9)+24+2: 35 GAME: Telamon casts Telekinetic Sphere. Caster Level: 20 DC: 29 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+17: (4)+17: 21 GAME: Telamon casts Haste/Quicken. Caster Level: 20 DC: 28
Telamon's eyes widen at the red-eyed toy hissing at them. That voice... isn't unfamiliar. Though he only encountered an echo of it, it's still not the sort of thing you forget. Coolly, though, the half-sil reaches up to unfasten the clasp of his heavy cloak, letting it drop to the cobbles. Beneath, he wears a long-sleeved white silk blouse, black leather trousers, and walking boots -- hardly cold-weather gear, but he seems unfazed by the chill of winter.
Then his eyes blaze with starlight, as he reaches out a hand. His voice takes on an unnatural reverb. "Dimma sa, ellag namsita gur irhandi!" There is a flash of light around the red-eyed fiendish toy, and suddenly it is encapsulated in a shimmering sphere -- apparently as insubstantial as a soap bubble, as suddenly Telamon chants again, swiftly. "Lukas, sa-i'iz!" A burst of silvery light lines him, before leaping to Verna, Carver, Tunk, and even Deathless, quickening their movements.
Carver moves and draws her bow, not yet firing, doing her best to make sense of the nature of this threat. On one hand, it's a doll, on the other, the eyes and voice demands a certain respect. She holds her position even as Deathless and herself are bathed in silver light from Telamon's enchantment.
GAME: Verna casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 19 DC: 20 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+20: (14)+20: 34
As the regards the 'lost' toy, there is a sudden surge in Verna of ... recognition, of familiarity. Of the benign, even friendly sort. Thus there is a moment of surprise when her brother-by-bond promptly seals the doll away. "Telamon, you are far too hasty. He merely wishes to play." One gloved hand lifts and there is a brief invocation along with a gesture. The latter ends with a snap of her fingers and the spherical bubble pops.
GAME: Tunk rolls 1d20+2: (3)+2: 5
Tunk blinks at the doll scrambling up his arm, and quickly levels his crossbow with the other hand. He fires with a sneer, sure that he can't miss the ugly thing at this close of range,
He misses. The bolt flies off past the doll and into a wall.
"Ye dirty lil Shite Sprite!," the dwarf yells.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20: (18): 18
The horde of dolls is spreading across the ground, up Tunk. One of them grabs a bolt and stabs the dwarf with it. The little Toymaster is growing larger and... redder. Fiendish in his disposition. He grows horns and a whip of flames and he doesn't look so cute anymore. Only he's still clearly made of fluff and stuffing and smaller than your usual fiendish overlord. He'd be considered cute by a Duke of Hell... probably. "Yes... Lets play!"
GAME: Telamon casts Fireball. Caster Level: 20 DC: 24 GAME: Telamon casts Shield/Quicken. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26 GAME: Verna rolls will+2: (18)+24+2: 44
"Oh for... Verna, you didn't cast a ward. Of course not, you didn't expect to get charmed by a--" Telamon trails off with a barrage of khazad profanity. "Alright..."
He touches his haversack slung on his hip, before reaching over to Verna. "Play, you say? Tag, you're it!" And there's a flash of silvery light that wraps around Verna, as an image of a crescent moon hovers over her a moment before fading. "Snap out of it!"
As Telamon invokes another spell, creating a shimmering shield of force, he calls to Carver, "Aim for the demon toy! I think he's the one animating them!" A pause. "I hope, or I'm about to traumatize a whole lot of people by incinerating these dolls..."
"On it," Carver says, and as she does so, aiming at the swelling demon lord of fuzz. She will focus her attention there, but whistles a command for Deathless. Her steed will high step toward the surging dolls all over Tunk, stomping at them to give the redbeard some space.
GAME: Carver rolls weapon7+1+1-2-2: (5)+18+1+1+-2+-2: 21 GAME: Carver rolls weapon7+1+1-2-2: (14)+18+1+1+-2+-2: 30 GAME: Carver rolls weapon7+1+1-2-2: (3)+18+1+1+-2+-2: 19 GAME: Carver rolls weapon7+1+1-2-2-5: (13)+18+1+1+-2+-2+-5: 24 GAME: Carver rolls weapon7+1+1-2-2: (4)+18+1+1+-2+-2: 20 GAME: Carver rolls 1d8+7: (1)+7: 8 GAME: Carver rolls 1d8+7: (1)+7: 8 GAME: Carver rolls 1d8+7: (7)+7: 14 GAME: Carver rolls 1d8+7: (7)+7: 14 GAME: Carver rolls 1d8+7: (5)+7: 12 GAME: Verna casts Bless. Caster Level: 19 DC: 18 GAME: Verna rolls knowledge/religion: (20)+24: 44 GAME: Tunk rolls acrobatics: (10)+5: 15
Verna ever believed that the 'altruism' of 'Ignorance is bliss' as anything but true. Yet, in the split-second her thoughts return from their distorted pleasant perceptions to the currently reality... she finds some understanding of the statement. Her eyes widen at the still-familiar-yet-anything-but-benign form and voice. "No! You cannot be! You will not trouble this plane any further! The Harpist's Halls do not yet beckon any here!"
The final few words of that are accompanied by supplicating and then spreading gestures to bring Her blessings upon those present. This also helps to clear and focus her own thoughts. "It CANNOT be him. A likeness, perhaps even an echo, but the Demon Duke is destroyed. It would be no easy feat to craft and bind even this simulacrum."
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+30: (15)+30: 45
Tunk growls, and drops down into a roll, "Get the hells offa me, ye little maggots!" The dolls are shaken loose in the maneuver and the dwarf hops back to his feet with a satisfied grin. He looks over at Telamon and says something in Khazad, stressing the rolled R.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d4+7: (3)+7: 10
The whip slides along the ground, wrapping around Telamon but then quickly slithering to the mage's feet as the magic that he possesses takes hold to protect him from entanglement. Still, the whip stings and hurts the man, and the burn of it is felt nonetheless. "I am! I exist! I will trouble this place as long as it pleases me!" He laughs
GAME: Telamon casts Disintegrate. Caster Level: 20 DC: 27 GAME: Telamon rolls ranged+2: (17)+17+2: 36 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+20+4: (1)+20+4: 25 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+20+4: (13)+20+4: 37 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+29: (2)+29: 31 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+29: (2)+29: 31 GAME: Telamon rolls 5d6: (17): 17
"Nngh!" The lash of the whip bites into Telamon's calf, drawing blood, and he glares at the growing doll. "You are becoming less -cute- by the minute." He reaches into his haversack, pulling out a short length of ivory engraved with images of ravens.
"And as creepy as you might be... you are -not the real thing-. You never were!" Telamon's eyes blaze with starlight as a glow gathers around the rod, and he points it at the doll. A flash as a line of blue-white light connects them, but the spell fails to unmake the doll-creature, albeit leaving a scorch mark. "..Verna, if you have any ideas, now would be a good time."
GAME: Carver casts Gravity Bow. Caster Level: 9 DC: 14
There is very few things more demoralizing than realizing you are a gnat, biting at the shadow of a walking force of nature. That is what it feels like when Carver lowers her bow to squint in the face of realization; she's not hurting him. Mmm. She whistles another command as Tunk seems to be dislodging some of the nearby threats, bringing Deathless back to her side. Wisely she does not CHARGE this walking devil lord. She slips her weapon to her left hand and brings up a mottled rock, the color of the moon. A whispered command, and she strikes it down the length of her weapon, and it glows softly with the color of the silvered moon.
She exhales, mounting Deathless in one smooth motion, readying herself and hoping one of the powerful spellcasters come to a brilliant conclusion.
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+20+4: (2)+20+4: 26 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+20+4: (4)+20+4: 28
"I am developing them now," Verna's response to Telmon is curt, though not due to him. "My fiend-defeating repertoire was not the priority these past mornings..." she adds while rapidly considering. Focusing upon the detail of fiend, even if this one may be merely an echo or fragment, does spark a thought. This thought expands and self-empowers as she rapidly recalls the preparations to enact such a an idea.
Rather than by the Harpist's Judgment, it is by Verna's own arcane knowledge that she raises her hands at the not-quite-small-not-quite-Demon Duke to gesture threateningly. "I forbid you from this place! Begone! You hold no power here!" For a heartbeat, it seems as if nothing occurs, and then..
... the Eclavdoll detonates in shards of splintered wood and rent fabric. Fortunately it was not near the merchant nor others. Unfortunately, the stone fountain takes the brunt of the force, causing the more exposed fine details to be shattered clean off while the body is cracked and split.
"Gods and stars!" Telamon recoils as the fiend-doll explodes in a mess of wood, stuffing, and rent force, damaging the fountain but thankfully not injuring anyone. He lowers his arm, looking at the collateral damage glumly, before turning to Verna. "We're going to have to fix that... but I'd say the trade was worth it."
He turns to whatever merchants might still be lingering, his eyes sweeping past Tunk and Carver as well. "Alright. Where did these dolls come from? There's going to be -questions- and I'm pretty sure the person who gets their answers in first will have fewer problems."
"Reason number 57 why not to bother coming to the temple district," the dwarf mutters as he begins brushing off the dirt from his tumble. He starts to head out but not before giving the merchant who was trying to sell the dolls a solid boot in the unmentionables.
Carver slowly lowers her bow, as silence reigns. She wasn't sure what happened but it's clear something had. She does not step down from Deathless so much is slip off her steed, landing on soft feet as Telamon steps to get answers and Tunk bullies some guy who just thinks Verna is neat. "It's... a long story without a satisfactory answer." She unwinds her scarf, licking at chapped lips. "I don't understand though, was he an old foe?"
Verna startles at the explosive result with a sharp cry, as that was not what was expected. Once it is apparent that the -thing- is absent and no longer posing any manner of threat, her small form deflates notably after the explosive result. "Indeed" is her only reply to the note of follow-on repair and investigation as well as in answer to Carver's inquire, though her drained tone implies that she may not be in any immediate haste to enact nor expound upon any of those matters.
-End