Conspiracy to Murder
Grandfather's house, Quelynos... Eternal sunset.
A messenger sent by raven has ushered Telamon, Auranar, and Verna to Grandfather's house. There, lying in wait, is Grandfather himself, decked in full armor, as well as a vision of loveliness: the once-wife of Alud'rigan, returned briefly by Vardama's hand thanks to intervention on one Mourner's behalf, Lana'lel, as she looked in her prime.
She looks positively radiant as she's seated at a table in the house, where cups of tea and a freshly baked pie is being served. As always, Grandfather's the one pouring the tea and distributing the pie, and he smiles affectionately at Lana'lel, although it's tinged with a hint of nervousness and awkwardness that is... novel, to say the least, on the man's face. "Like old times, right?" he asks.
"Yes, but I know you've got that handsome man you've been seeing, Rigan," Lana'lel says with a wink, which causes Alud'rigan to flush a little. "I _did_ tell you to live your life after I died, you know. Now, spill the beans, Rigan. What's this trap you've made?"
Alud'rigan smiles as he finally sits down at the table with his own plate and cup of tea. "Well, I have good news. Cul the Cruel, and his little agent who has stolen the Spark from Verna, Riluaneth Elamys, are on a little vacation elsewhere in Quelynos at the moment. They think that it's secluded and safe, as it's effectively a little cottage up the side of some rather mountainous terrain. Unfortunately for them, I have birds watching them from the trees. It seems they've brought minimal guards, and Cul appears to have his mind entirely on debauchery and entertainment. In other words, a rather rich environment for murder."
People always seem to underestimate Telamon. He prefers to talk first. He wants to work things out. But eventually, someone pushes him too far and then, well... it doesn't end well. That being said, though, Tel is a lot less impulsive than he used to be, and he definitely doesn't want to lose this lead on their prey.
"That seems remarkably unwise, even for a debauched fey who's out for some fun times. Are we sure it's not a trap laid for us? He has to know he's being hunted, especially after Koz'gon was disposed of."
The half-sil rubs his chin, and smiles at Lana'lel as he takes his plate and tea. "Thank you, Grandmother," he says politely, before continuing, "Maybe I'm just emulating my father a little too much but I can't help but feel like this looks too easy."
Expecting a war council, Auranar has come prepared for... well war. She is wearing a pair of black pants and a simple long-sleeved dark-red tunic which is belted around the waist. Her hair pulled back into a surprising bun atop her head to keep it out of the way in case she needs to fight something. She has her bow and the usual accompanying items that keep her prepared for a fight. Her magic bracers, her fingerless gloves, her headband which looks like a diadem upon her brow; secured in place with pins, and she has a few other nasty surprises tucked away on her person as well. Including her signature iron arrows strapped to her thigh.
"Excellent work Grandfather." She says warmly, smiling at him and Lana'lel as well though she doesn't know the woman. "It's possible that Cul is eager to utilize the gift that was given to him. Getting some poor woman pregnant has to be high on his list of priorities." She accepts some tea as well, but doesn't sit down for pie which she declines with a polite shake of her head.
Verna is dressed for the occasion: the gray robes and cloak of her station, as well as light, silvery mithral links beneath. Lana'lel's presence is still something of a novelty to her, despite being well-aware of her return. Admittedly, she is likely the least-frequent visitor to Grandfather or Quelynos, overall. Still, this does not diminish the radiance of her presence, nor the apparent connection between she and Alud'rigan. Who appears simultaneously resplendent and menacing. Yet there is the matter at hand.
Her lips purse. "I concur with Telamon. As well, I hold great concern over what activities Cul and his associates consider entertaining, much less debaucherous." She accepts the offered tea and pie as she muses.
Following Auranar's mention, she frowns. That is certainly one feasible course of action and/or activity. "Reservations or not, we should act."
"I had my concerns that it might well be a trap, Telamon, but I've been informed--thanks to a well-placed bird elsewhere--that Cul the Cruel has very recently killed one of his guards." Alud'rigan's expression is like he's just tasted curdled milk. "Normally, this would be swept under the rug at the Court, but she was a daughter of one of the Queen's higher-up nobility, and so, to placate the family, Her Majesty made a display of 'punishing' Cul by sending him out of the Court for some time. It, of course, has amounted to a vacation for him. As Auranar has noted... He appears to be eager to use the gift that he was given."
"Nothing's changed about that nest of snakes," Lana'lel says with a shake of her head. She's enjoying the pie. It's got blueberry and blackberry, and it's _delicious_. "It sounds like Cul might well keep abusing and killing women if we don't do anything about it. Speaking of which... Do you still need me for the 'honeypot' trap?"
Alud'rigan's lips press together. "Well, if you can distract the prince... it may buy us time to deal with the guards, and with Cul's associate." He looks to the group. "What do the rest of you think? Or shall we discuss strategy of approach after we get there?"
Auranar has her own concerns of course. Like the others she's considered if this might be a trap, but there's no way to know and they need the opening. If Cul is being 'punished' then now is the time. Hopefully the Queen of Air and Darkness will not even know that her son is dead until it is too late. "I think using Lana'lel as a distraction is still our best bet. If he has sent out for... entertainment... That gives us opportunity." Though either way they'll need to act quickly to get to Cul lest he try to escape back home to his mother. Auranar sips her tea thoughtfully. "I can provide support, but I know that I am not the most skilled mage in our group. The best I can provide is my iron arrows and the distinct possibility that one or both will end up on the wrong end of a few."
Auranar smiles grimly. After all, at least two have fallen victim to underestimating her and having their lives ended thusly.
Verna would never doubt Cor'lana's bloodline, especially in their ability to sway others. The member of the Lupecyll-Atlon family with the least talents of such, by far, would be herself. She takes another sip of tea before setting it aside alongside the lightly-touched pie. "There is the planned distraction, and the course for the rest of us; directly for Cul and the ... thief." The tone suggests many other titles were considered in that moment. "The details may be best determined once we are present and collect more information."
One hand lifts to rest upon Auranar's shoulder. "Love, there are none I would rather accompany me." Not that Auranar is in need of assurance, but Verna offers her honest opinion all the same. Otherwise, she is rather less verbose than is her norm.
GAME: Telamon casts Overland Flight. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26 GAME: Telamon casts Mind Blank. Caster Level: 20 DC: 29 GAME: Telamon casts Black Tentacles. Caster Level: 20 DC: 25 GAME: Verna casts Shield Other. Caster Level: 19 DC: 21
"Then we have a consensus," Alud'rigan remarks with a nod. "Let us finish our repast and our preparations, and we will discuss more when we get there."
Lana'lel insists on finishing her plate of food (it's been a long time since she's had Grandfather's baking, after all), and, once everyone's ready, Alud'rigan brings the group outside. Everyone joins hands, and then...
The world shifts.
Quelynos is a place of unending beauty, but this section of it is quite lovely. Sunny and filled with grass and greenery, a cottage sits amidst some hilly terrain, surrounded by some more lush overgrowth and bushes.
Up ahead, in front of the cottage stand three figures. They're all feminine in form, wearing black plate armor. Pale-skinned as many of the Unseelie tend to be, they look... a little unhappy.
GAME: Auranar rolls Perception: (18)+5: 23 GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (11)+33: 44 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+28: (13)+28: 41 GAME: Verna rolls perception: (20)+31: 51 GAME: Auranar casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 11 DC: 17
A conversation is being had among the guards. Thanks to everyone's keen eyes and ears, the group perceives it well.
"Is Cul up from his nap yet?"
"I'm not sure, Tessa." The guard who stands out the most has a horrible wound across her face that seems to be only recently healed, and she looks concerned. "If we're lucky, that feywine will have put him out for a while."
"Awenna," says the third guard to the scarred woman--who must be Awenna. "I... I don't want it to be my turn next. I really don't. I mean... What if he hurts me like he hurt you?"
"I'm not letting that happen, Elva," Tessa replies curtly. "You're my sister. I'll volunteer myself if he or Riluaneth pop out wanting some 'fun'."
GAME: Telamon rolls talky: aliased to diplomacy+5: (7)+36+5: 48 GAME: Telamon rolls talky: aliased to diplomacy+5: (4)+36+5: 45 GAME: Auranar rolls Diplomacy: (9)+6: 15
The overheard conversation solidifies Telamon's thought from earlier: these guards don't want to be here. They're... victims. Just like everyone else Cul's schemes have hurt. And Telamon doesn't hurt victims.
And so the half-elf, clad in his adventuring garb -- nested circlet, sleeveless coat, white silk blouse over black trousers and well-made boots, his hands empty but set with rings -- glides away from the group, towards the cottage. Staring down the trio of armored fey-women, he nods politely. "Ladies. I think you know who I am, and why I am here." He lets that sit for a moment before he continues.
"My fight isn't with you. You're not my enemy, and never were." The starborn sorcerer's expression is kind, rather than stern. "I would ask that you depart this place. If you seek shelter..." Telamon considers, then a sly smile crosses his face. "I know a fellow who owes me a favor, in Cloud City. I can send you there, and while it might be different... it will be less fraught than remaining here."
"Please, ladies. Don't protect this monster. Just go."
Auranar follows in Telamon's wake determinedly, not hiding the fact that she's bristling with weapons. "It's as he said. We have no intent to allow him to live to seek retribution against you, so if you go... You can live unharmed by him any further. We are not your enemies." She keeps her words brief but determined, allowing them to see her conviction and her determination in her eyes.
Verna moves with Telamon and Auranar, though remains quiet for the moment and a step behind so as not to split the ladies' attention any further and possibly undermine her family's efforts. Her expression remains neutral, if on the more dour edge of the same given the individual(s) discussed.
The three women look uncertain for a moment, especially Elva, who seems the youngest of the three, but then Tessa takes her hand. "We've got to go," she says firmly. "Before Cul suspects anything. Come on."
The scarred guard, Awenna, frowns. "Her Majesty will find out," she says. "She'll kill all three of us."
"_Cul_ will kill all three of us if we stay, Awenna." Tessa almost hisses this remark. "Remember Nayleri? Or have you forgotten how he _choked her to death_?"
Awenna shudders like she's been struck by the remark physically. As Alud'rigan and Lana'lel approach, she looks at Lana'lel briefly for a moment before she looks back at Telamon. "We can go, but... Someone needs to go in there and distract him," she says. "There's only so long he'll--"
"Oh, Riluaneth!" A deep bassy voice calls out from within the cottage. "Bring me one of the girls. Or has the Seelie woman you promised arrived yet?"
"Any moment now, milord!" answers another voice. "I'll go check with the guards." There's the sound of footsteps and activity inside.
Telamon's eyes widen slightly, but then, just like with Koz'gon, his mind snaps into motion. He points at Lana'lel wordlessly, then gestures at the guards, nodding to them as he moves out of line of sight of the doorway. Beckoning to the others to join him, as he whispers hoarsely, "Step back, so we're not seen."
He bites his lip briefly -- part of him doesn't want to send his Grandmother into this -- but she volunteered, and she's here as part of the Harpist's wishes. And so he whispers softly, "Ni'essa be with you, Grandmother. We won't make you wait long."
Auranar is quick to follow Telamon, her heart beating fast in her ears as she ducks around the building to get out of sight. She motions to Lana'lel a gesture of good luck and hopes that the other woman understands it. Even if not, the gesture will hopefully convey good luck to her. She has faith that they can all do their parts in this. That they will kill Cul and his ally. _Good luck indeed_, she thinks.
Verna has concerns with the planned course of action, especially given the additional context from the guards. On the other hand, it was Lana'lel's plan, and she has confidence that she is more than capable. As well, should anything go awry, they can intercede at a moment's notice. Verna gives an acknowledging dip of her head before scurrying off with Telamaon and Auranar. In hindsight, she is far more confident in Grandmother's wiles than her own ability to remain unseen and unheard.
Lana'lel smiles winningly at her family and her once-husband, who quietly draws his sword and looks very well like he might butcher Cul if he so much as walks out that door. "Don't worry about me," she whispers across the way. "You focus on drawing that interloper out first."
She walks up to the guards, and they permit her to walk up to the door. Riluaneth appears at the doorstep, gray hair and green eyes marking the appearance of the fae individual (it's rather hard to determine what gender they might be). "Hello, hello! You must be Saralia. Come in."
Lana'lel beams. "That would be me." And she disappears past the front step.
The guards look between each other for a moment. "We were hoping to speak with you for a moment regarding the next procurement of supplies from the palace," Tessa says. "Let us give His Highness some space."
"Oh, certainly." Riluaneth steps out of the cottage and shuts the door behind them
GAME: Telamon casts Suffocation. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+17: (19)+17: 36 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+17: (20)+17: 37
Telamon's eyes turn cold as he hears the new voice. There's one of their two targets. Silently, his hand slips into his haversack, coming out with an ivory rod, carved with images of ravens, and he takes a deep breath. Thinking of everything he has to do. Then he's ready, and he sweeps around the corner.
Locking onto the one person who isn't one of the guards. The killing magic bubbling up from his lips as he points the rod at the fey bastard. And the spell lashes out, driving the air from Riluaneth's lungs... but not all the way. Not enough to bring him down. The rage in Telamon's eyes can't be hidden though. Death is afoot here.
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+20: (15)+20: 35 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+12: (4)+12: 16
Alud'rigan takes advantage of the opening salvo that Telamon has fired. He darts forward at lightning speed, his violet eyes burning with grim determination as he brings down his longsword to bear onto the man. It bites true, leaving Riluaneth yelping as the wound bleeds.
"The first bite is not the last," Alud'rigan mutters darkly.
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+23: (13)+23: 36 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d6+11: (2)+11: 13 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d6: (2): 2
Breath driven out of lungs, Riluaneth wheezes as they stare down Alud'rigan. "Two can play at that game," Riluaneth says. They reach out with hands that swiftly shapeshift into claws like Alud'rigan's, and Riluaneth draws three hard cuts across Alud'rigan's face. The marks bleed noxiously.
GAME: Telamon casts True Strike/Quicken. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26 GAME: Telamon casts Disintegrate. Caster Level: 20 DC: 27 GAME: Telamon rolls ranged+20: (20)+17+20: 57 (THREAT) GAME: Telamon rolls ranged+20: (11)+17+20: 48 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+17: (1)+17: 18 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Telamon rolls 80d6: (278): 278
A song flickers through Telamon's mind. Something about cities choked in dust and ash. As Alud'rigan and Riluaneth trade blows, the sorcerer floats up a little bit to get a better line on his target. "Ni'essa, guide my hand. Let all that I do be righteous in your eyes." Swiftly, his fingers form the spell of accuracy, the truestrike -- the spell wrapping around him, like a comforting hand steadying a bow.
And then he points the rod at Riluaneth, and intones a different spell. Power building up, and he tweaks his aim ever so slightly, as the blue light crackles around his arm. And then there's a flash as he says softly, "Be unmade."
A beam of blue-white light suddenly joins the two of them, striking Riluaneth in the chest. There is no more time for protests, or fighting. The fey simply vanishes in the radiance, reduced to ash and dust. Telamon lifts his chin. One down, one to go.
GAME: Auranar rolls 1d20+10+1+1+1+1: (8)+10+1+1+1+1: 22 GAME: Auranar rolls 1d8+1+1d4+7: (5)+1+(3)+7: 16
Auranar doesn't stick around to bemoan her lack of chance to attack the man that Telamon disintegrates so easily. She runs past the guards instead. "Run!" She barks at them and throws open the door, her bow levels at Cul who is... Making out with Lana'lel and she ignores that in favor of putting an arrow in his leg. "Pathetic prince. Wounded by a woman?"
Taunting him is definitely part of her plan.
GAME: Verna casts Destruction. Caster Level: 19 DC: 26 GAME: Verna casts Finger of Death. Caster Level: 19 DC: 27 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+13: (8)+13: 21 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+13: (3)+13: 16
Verna is not about to leave Auranar to face Cul on her own, even for a moment. The ashes of the Spark-thief have not even settled and she is darting after her to the doorway. Therein she spies ... him. While she has never met Cul (to her recollection), his reputation far precedes him. The fact that he is (or was) so... engrossed in Lana'lel only adds to her dislike.
As a supreme threat to so many, logic demands that he be dealt with as such: swiftly sent to Her for judgement. Thus her hands lift to gesture, each making a disparate move from the other, and her incantation is a still-intelligible mixture of Mynsandraal and beseechment to "May she judge you as swiftly and succinctly as you acted upon others..."
A ray of negative energy erupts from one hand to strike Cul, less than a heartbeat before silvery-white flames arise to engulf him (and only him). Whilst part of his life is sapped from the negative energy, his corporeal body is utterly consumed by the holy fire, leaving not even ash.
Lana'lel, for her part, hops away from the holy flame, and she (rather pointedly) wipes her mouth. "Well. That takes care of that... For the most part."
"Lana'lel!?" Alud'rigan barrels into the house, halfway expecting to see Cul enacting some form of torture on the woman he raised a family with. Except... She's safe. She reaches into the holy flame that has taken Cul's form, and some of it dances on her fingers.
"Yes, I'm fine, darling." Lana'lel smiles winningly at Alud'rigan. "Verna, dear, come here. This belongs to you."
Meanwhile, the guards outside look utterly relieved. Elva, the youngest, sheds tears, and she goes to tightly embrace her sister. "We're free now. We're free."
Awenna looks uncertain for a moment, but then her eyes lock onto Telamon. "You meant your words, right? Can you get us there? I think we'd better go as soon as possible."
And... it's done. Well, that was satisfying, if brief. A glance inside to make sure -- nope, Verna is a very thorough remover of obstacles. It makes Telamon smile slightly, before his gaze turns back to the guards.
"Yes," Telamon says firmly. "One moment." He puts his metamagic rod away, pulling out a pencil and a sheet of paper. Leaning up against the cottage wall, he hurriedly scribbles something out in the flowing Auran language. Once he's signed it with a flourish, he rolls it up, and offers it to Awenna.
"I'm going to open a gate to Cloud City. When the customs officer asks for your business, tell him you need to speak to Crag Sharkmun. Crag is a fiend-spawn -- probably the only one in Cloud City -- but he's honest and he serves the Shaykh and his court wizard. Give Crag that letter."
The half-sil pauses, then reaches out to offer his hand to the fey guard. "Good luck. I hope someday you can come home."
Auranar lowers her bow as Cul goes up in smoke and flames. She smiles grimly at the place where he once stood and slowly relaxes as the seconds tick by. Gone. Forever. "That means that you have your Vital Spark back... right Verna?" She looks at her wife hopefully, her dark eyes holding such love in them. She lets Telamon handle the guards. They're free now. To live better lives.
As statisfying as it is to see Cul removed, the thought of the missing spark strikes shortly after... and the fact that it may be lost once more, perhaps permanently. A topic that is first voiced aloud by Auranar, to whom Verna glances uncertainly while reflexively reaching for her wife's hand. "I do not kn-oh?"
The exclamation comes once Lana'lel calls to her, shifting Verna's focus to Grandmother curiously. Eyes flick to the bit of flames dancing on fae fingers. Could it be so easily retrieved and returned? There is a moment of hesitation at noting where it was previously present... then assurance that cleansing holy fire was the correct choice. She then steps to Lana'lel, still somewhat amazed that all is so... simple(?)
There’s silence from the place where Cul the Cruel - as he was known to many - once stood, but it doesn’t last forever. From the shadows a woman enters the room, the shadows of the doorway that her son might have led Lana’lel through but no longer can. Her dark eyes hold tears as she screams her rage in a long, drawn-out moment of grief and rage. Grief and rage that she spills out across the space around her in magical power.
The air becomes thick, too thick to breathe, and the gravity of the room increases a hundredfold. Her power bends the very air until it becomes something more than air. This after all is one of the reasons she is hailed as the Queen of Air and Darkness. Because they are her domain. She controls them completely.
She is beautiful, and somehow all the more beautiful in her rage. Her dark eyes and the dark hair that streams away from her shoulders down her back in a cascade moving of its own volition as she threatens all those that killed her son. “What have you _done_? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?” The raw pain in her voice is hard to listen to. A mother’s pain. A mother’s rage.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+26: (8)+26: 34 GAME: Auranar rolls Fortitude: (1)+7: 8 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+15: (1)+15: 16 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Verna rolls fort: (10)+17: 27
Alud'rigan is knocked to the ground by the sheer force of the Queen of Air and Darkness's rage, and it's difficult for him to breath. Nigh impossible, in fact. But he looks over at Auranar, and he decides... He must save her. Out of everyone here, she should not be forced to face this woman who might kill her.
He rolls over to her, his clawed hand gripping Auranar's tightly. In that moment, he actually gives Auranar something that had been on his person--a tiny little pendant. Auranar will recognize what it is. Alud'rigan's fashioned little pendants for his grandchildren for centuries, so that if they ever get lost... They will find their way back home.
Auranar disappears for the touching of the pendant, and the rest of the air in Alud'rigan's lungs leaves in a sigh of relief.
GAME: Telamon casts Greater Teleport. Caster Level: 20 DC: 28 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+21: (12)+21: 33
Telamon honestly thought they'd have more time to escape before the manure hit the gnomish fan. But: nope, now there's an angry Queen in their face, and Telamon is pretty sure diplomacy is just not in the cards.
So the next best option: change the battlefield. A place pops into Telamon's head, one he remembers very, very well. Will the Queen pursue them? Probably, she doesn't look like she's in her right mind anyways. But this might buy them a little time. Stepping into the group, he touches Verna, Alud'rigan... and the guards as well. "Anungal! Kaskal nu siten ula'ulla!"
He feels the rage of the Queen press down on him, trying to muzzle the spell, keep them there... but he is not who he was years ago when he first faced her. He is Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon. Archmage, starborn, husband, friend, mentor... and his will is not so easily denied.
"ANUNGAL!" He shouts, and a sphere of shimmering light wraps around his friends, new and old, carrying them away -- to a familiar lake shore at the foot of a mountain.
Once the teleportation is complete, Alud'rigan immediately looks himself over, looking over at the guards, his family, and his wife. "We don't have much time," he murmurs.
"I know," Lana'lel says gently. She's still holding that holy flame, and she clasps Verna's shoulder. The flame... doesn't burn. Instead, it sinks like a warmth into Verna, and then it disappears. She smiles tenderly at the group. "I don't have long now. But I can do you all one last kindness..."
She looks at the guards, and she darts over to them, embracing all of them in a hug. "From one woman to another, and another, and another. Don't worry about them, and Telamon? I think you'd better get your ally here."
With that, Lana'lel and the guards disappear.
GAME: Telamon casts Wish. Caster Level: 20 DC: 30
Telamon's face becomes relieved. At least Verna has her spark back. At least the guards, whom he promised to protect, are safe. Now... all that's left is to deal with the Queen.
How hard can that be, right?
But Telamon isn't near as foolish as he used to be. Reaching into his haversack, he draws forth a prism carved from diamond, and focuses on it. It glows with a soft, starry light, as he brings his will to bear on reordering reality.
"I wish that Faphinae Cari’thana, my ally and mother of my friend Cor’ethil, come to us and stand by our side. That we might set the Court in a new direction away from the destruction wrought by the old Queen. This is my will; so mote it be!" And the prism flashes with a pulse of light that rockets into the sky, and Telamon staggers from the amount of mana used.
GAME: Verna casts Spell Turning. Caster Level: 19 DC: 26
Verna had little time to recover from being thrown to the ground before Telamon tranported all here, but it was... enough? Her first concern was, as expected, for Auranar, whom she saw depart thanks to Grandfather. It is assuring enough for the moment that she is safe... or at least not here (where much unpleasantness is likely). Her next concern would be the victims and possibly Lana'lel, though those concerns also resolve themselves. That leaves Telamon, Grandfather, now Faphinae, and herself.
In this moment, she addresses the last, invoking a protective spell upon her person, lest she be throttled by the Queen's magic once more. "Ready yourselves. I do not expect her to lose her ire too quickly..."
Telamon's wish comes true.
Faphinae pops into existence before him, and she grins widely, not disoriented in the least. She casts those glowing silver eyes at Alud'rigan. "Is it time?"
He nods, and Faphinae draws her rapier, incanting a spell with which to make herself stronger. Her eyes glow all the stronger. "I will relish every drop of her blood that I spill," she says, "in the pursuit of building a better world. A better Faerie."
GAME: Telamon rolls Will: (2)+23: 25 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+17: (20)+17: 37 GAME: Telamon rolls Will: (10)+23: 33 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+14: (4)+14: 18
The Queen appears, but her appearance lasts only a moment as... Something happens. A rift appears behind her and she and Verna are... Pulled inside. The rift closes just as quickly, and then they're both... Gone?
Alud'rigan frowns deeply as the Queen and Verna disappear, looking between Faphinae and Telamon. "She means to tear our group apart," he says in irritation. "We cannot stand for this. Telamon... I wouldn't ordinarily suggest this, but can you call them back?"
GAME: Telamon casts Gate. Caster Level: 20 DC: 30
Telamon looks dumbfounded as Verna and the Queen are... dragged through some kind of rift. "I don't think that was intentional, Grandfather," he says a bit dazedly. "Besides, there are better ways to divide us up."
He takes another deep breath, and begins to circle one hand in the air while chanting again. Energy builds up, and his fingertip leaves a sizzling silvery arc that rapidly begins to expand into a circle. A portal. A gate.
"Verna Lupecyll-Atlon!" Telamon cries out, "Come forth!"
Wherever Verna went, the appearance of the gate and Telamon's call is a welcome one. She emerges, looking a bit perturbed and mildly... annoyed(?). There is a bit of blood on her robes, but no arterial spray nor in any quantity of concern. "That was ... unexpected. A mana feedback loop, I believe."
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+30: (6)+30: 36 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+25: (1)+25: 26 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+20: (11)+20: 31
Faphinae grinds her teeth as the Queen disappears. "That bitch," she growls. "Using her magic to instill love in those who would hate her... It's always been her way."
She raises her hands. "I will prevent her from escaping, but it will lock us down from doing the same in our immediate area. As soon as she reappears." Because Faphinae knows that she will.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d8+21: (6)+21: 27 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d8+21: (3)+21: 24
The Queen does indeed reappear, the spell that Faphinae prepares falling upon the area and the Queen ignores it in favor of swinging her sword at Verna. Once, twice, thrice. Drawing blood on two of the attacks. The weapon swings with deadly arc, showing itself to be... Mortal Dread.
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+20: (15)+20: 35 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+12: (1)+12: 13 GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/arcana: (5)+21: 26 GAME: Telamon casts Shield/Quicken. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26 GAME: Telamon casts Suffocation. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26
At long last, Alud'rigan gets to do what he's always wanted to do. He smiles grimly as he rushes forward.
"Morani'achera." The Queen's real name. Alud'rigan uses it like a whip on his tongue as he strikes the Queen with his longsword. "We're overdue for this moment, aren't we? One last dance before your blood seeps into Quelynos itself."
Telamon looks appalled as Verna is slashed by the maddened Queen, and he calls to her. "Verna, fall back!" Quickly, he incants a spell, creating a shield of force. Once that's done, he eyes the Queen. "Well, it almost worked on his buddy..." The killing magic flows from his lips, trying to strangle the queen... but it simply doesn't work. But Telamon doesn't feel any bounceback, and calls out, "I think her ward is down! It didn't bounce back at me!"
GAME: Verna casts Unwilling Shield. Caster Level: 19 DC: 26 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+23: (16)+23: 39 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+22: (1)+22: 23 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+17: (16)+17: 33 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+12: (8)+12: 20 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+22: (17)+22: 39 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+22+4: (6)+22+4: 32
Verna has drawn the Queen's ire, and for rather clear reasons. She also makes note of the weapon used; not surprising, yet also interesting. Interesting that the only known carriers (to her knowledge) of such weapons are fae royalty. This implies they are limited and status symbols, or perhaps they are necessary were one monarch to need accost another?
"Your son suffered the consequences of his own actions, " she notes plainly. "Perhaps if you had reared him otherwise, his past choices would be made equally otherwise..." She knows little of mothering directly (aside from her furbaby Hunter), but she is rather familiar with poor mothers.
To accompany her words, she invokes a spell meant to link the two of them, much as she did with Auranar, in attempt to 'share' The Queen's fury with herself...yet it fails to do so.
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d6+11+1d6+11: (6)+11+(6)+11: 34 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+20: (20)+20: 40 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+20: (12)+20: 32 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+19: (10)+19: 29 GAME: Riptide rolls 10d6: (28): 28 GAME: Telamon rolls Will+5: (10)+23+5: 38
Faphinae's silver eyes are glowing with hatred as she steps forward, bringing her rapier to bear against the Queen. "You will never, _ever_ hurt a mortal ever again."
One stab. Miss. "You used me. You hurt me. You manipulated me. You _broke_ me."
She jabs twice and then, on the last one, she finally scores blood, and then magic comes coursing through her, disintegrating part of the Queen's crown. "I will break you in _kind_," she snarls.
GAME: Verna rolls will+2+4: (3)+26+2+4: 35 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+17: (17)+17: 34 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+14+8+2: (4)+14+8+2: 28 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+30: (14)+30: 44 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+25: (5)+25: 30 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+20: (12)+20: 32 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d100: (43): 43 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d8+21: (4)+21: 25
Alud'rigan quickly and easily draws the Queen's fury, and she turns on him in a flash. "Alud'rigan. I should have known you were behind this you traitor. You and _Faphinae_. That's why I set fire to that _hovel_ you call a home. I hope nothing important is inside." She laughs mockingly, meanly, cruelly. "_I_ am Queen here! And you should get on your knees if you want to live!"
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+20+2: (13)+20+2: 35 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+20+2: (1)+20+2: 23 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+15+2: (19)+15+2: 36 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+15+2+4: (18)+15+2+4: 39 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+12: (4)+12: 16 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+12+1d8+12: (6)+12+(7)+12: 37 GAME: Telamon casts True Strike/Quicken. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26 GAME: Telamon casts Disintegrate/Persistent. Caster Level: 20 DC: 29 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+19: (18)+19: 37 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+19: (13)+19: 32 GAME: Telamon rolls ranged+20: (20)+17+20: 57 (THREAT) GAME: Telamon rolls ranged+20: (19)+17+20: 56 GAME: Telamon rolls 10d6: (33): 33
Alud'rigan doesn't even ask the queen in disbelief if she's lying. He knows she's not. The Queen has been a sadist for as long as he's known her.
He says nothing as he strikes the queen once, and then he scores an even harder blow on the queen, his longsword scoring a deep gash in her side. "There is a Queen here, but you are not her."
"Damn it," Telamon curses as the Queen gloats at her latest atrocity. Still... Auranar isn't a weakling. Hopefully she can get clear, get safe. And houses... can be repaired. Restored. He knows that all too well.
"Not a chance," he snarls at the Queen, invoking the focusing magics again. "You're not my queen, and soon you won't be anything!" Another coruscating blue beam slashes out from Telamon, raking along the Queen's leg, another savage disintegrating strike. "All you had to do was leave people alone!"
GAME: Verna casts Vampiric Touch. Caster Level: 19 DC: 23 GAME: Verna rolls finesse: (18)+12: 30 GAME: Verna rolls 10d6: (40): 40 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+22+2: (19)+22+2: 43 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+22+2+4: (9)+22+2+4: 37 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+17+2: (11)+17+2: 30 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+12+2: (1)+12+2: 15 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+22+2: (10)+22+2: 34 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d6+11+1d6+11: (5)+11+(3)+11: 30 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d6+11: (6)+11: 17 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+20: (13)+20: 33 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+19: (6)+19: 25 GAME: Riptide rolls 36d6: (136): 136
Verna's eyes widen at the Queen's gloating. As much as she adores Grandfather, his home, his library... they are not where her thoughts go, first. No, it is the fact that, to her knowledge, Auranar was only just sent there, so that she would be safe. The Mourner's expression beings to change, with a delay: surprise, shock, terror, anger... all expressed very briefly before her visage flattens to a hard neutrality.
"Morani'achera," she ontones flatly, "Your time of Judgement is at hand. She shall evaluate you for your deeds, just as your son is judged."
An invocation in Mynsandraal follows and, speaking of hands, her own is shrouded briefly in negative energy. The aura remains until Verna steps up to the fae queen and slaps her with it.
"No!" Faphinae doesn't know that Grandfather' grandchild is in danger, but she does know what that house means to him. Centuries of grandchildren running around and playing. Books, and keepsakes, and memories--all about to be stolen from someone who doesn't deserve it. How many people has the Queen brutalized in this manner? How many hearts has she broken like this? How many mortals have been subjugated in this way?
No longer. No _more_.
Faphinae punches her rapier into the Queen's stomach first. It's a grievous wound on its own, one that could well kill the Queen given time if it were allowed to fester into infection. But then she draws the blade back.
She thrusts it through the Queen's chest. Right through the heart. Faphinae's hand doesn't even tremble on the hilt. Her silver eyes glow and widen as she realizes what's at hand.
She smiles. In a low voice, she purrs, "Long live the Queen."
Magic pours up through Faphinae's blade and skitters through the Queen of Air and Darkness--oppressor, tyrant. The Queen's form scatters apart on her blade, turning to ash.
Mortal Dread falls from a hand that is no longer there, and Faphinae breathes out.
Doyle appears from the shadows as the Queen breathes her last. One moment there, and the next killed by a well-placed spell. Nothing more than ash remaining. He moves silently through the underbrush toward Faphinae. He ignores all else save her, his dark eyes cool and unafraid though you've just slain his Queen. When he reaches Faphinae he kneels before her, going to one knee and lowering his head.
"The Queen is dead. Long live the Queen." He glances up, and smiles, the first real smile that he has ever worn in the presence of any save perhaps Alud'rigan... allegedly. "It will be good to serve you, your Majesty."
Once the Queen crumbles to ash, Telamon grabs Verna's hand. "Grandfather, follow us as swiftly as you can!" With that, he leads his sister out of the dimensional ward, and as soon as they are clear... he casts his teleport spell. Throwing the two Lupecyll-Atlons towards Grandfather's tree, his home, and hopefully they won't be too late.
GAME: Telamon casts Greater Teleport. Caster Level: 20 DC: 28
With Morani'achera fallen, Verna's thoughts promptly shift to more pressing matters. Her mask of neutrality crumbles into one of worry as she parallels Telamon in dashing out of the denial zone; he need not tug her, though she does meet his hand halfway for the journey.
The tree house is on fire.
It's a great, terrible blaze, with a huge pile of bookcases just laying out in the lawn with books still inside them slightly singed but all the books fine.
The flames part, and Auranar pulls yet another bookcase out of the fire, dragging it the last few feet and looking up at Verna and Telamon in surprise. "Guys! Help! Somehow Grandfather's house is on fir-"
She hardly gets the words out before she's hugged.
The most important thing that could have been in that fire was never the books. The rooms are safe thanks to Grandfather's warding and the fire is quick to die under a few well-placed spells. Auranar saves all the books though, and she's fine. A little singed around the edges, but she's fine.
It's a good day.
-End