Behold the Unloved King (Part 5)
Log Info
- Title: Unloved King (Part 5)
- GM: Whirlpool
- Place: Desolation / Quelynos
Getting out is doable, back into the evening light of the Desolation and the fury of the Everystorm. Dust and sand are being kicked up all around you, and the horizon is an unusual shade of purple as the sun dips.
But at least you survived. For now. With your minds in tact.
... you think.
The Desolation never looked so good. Telamon is swift to help everyone out, and once they ARE out, he lets the shakes hit. Riding them out, trembling, as he signs to the others, unwilling to take off his earmuffs and plugs just yet. "If anyone's feeling a sudden urge to do a little dance or sing... you'd better say so now so we can do something about it." He looks at the hole into the tomb, and shivers again.
He signs, "We need to close this place back up. Maybe even put it somewhere else. I have a couple ideas, but before I do anything permanent..."
When the group emerges from the mist and pulls off the blindfolds, they will discover that Reunion is no longer on Seldan's hip. He signs crisply that he is well, but that Reunion needs to be in his pack for now, and that he will explain when they are outside, but his already sober demeanor is now positively pensive, and he is quiet for the rest of the trip out. When the earplugs and blindfolds all come off, the lot gets stuffed into his pack with a long sigh, and he stares at its opening. We must needs locate the place again, when we have done that which we must do, he signs back. Let us close it as beset we may, and cover it.
Aryia takes the aid to get out, herself flopping over into the sandy and dirt laden ground as she pants, sweating in droves. Her soft voice is unheard now, but it's clear she's swearing up a storm that'd rival the one behind the party.
The trembling and shakes hit her too. A little hero's feast barely stays down as she gets to her feet. "Agreed. I can put the stone slabs back if someone can meld it back together."
The mute walks over, jamming her fingers back in the grip holes she made earlier in the slabs that have been cast aside. <Handspeech>
Verna has no arguments against a prompt exit, even if the return trip is no less discomfiting in its sensory-depravation. Then again, after the -presence-, perhaps it is not quite as uncomfortable in comparison. The air, dusty as it is, is welcomed as well as the sight of others amidst the drab scenery. "Indeed, it should be -MUST- be closed." She looks to Telamon, "Should I experience any unexpected urges, I shall inform." She is uncertain what to think of the situation, as she is still processing.
"I am undesiring of doing a..." Harkashan tries to recall something, then motions his hand out; "'Jiggy'?" With an expression of 'is that how you say it?'. Similarly, he is not looking to remove the earplugs, and keeps moving with the rest of the gang.
He's not wanting to look back at this time. Closing up this place isn't something he's really capable of. Then, putting his hands at the hips, he takes some time to look at the brewing storm with a measure of concern on his expression.
"What's a jiggy?" Cor'lana signs, a brow raising to indicate she really doesn't recognize the word. Then she looks contemplative for a moment with Aryia's request. "Okay. I can take care of the stones." <Handspeech>
She reaches into her bag and draws out a bit of diamond dust. Well-acquainted with this particular spell, she knows how much she needs. It feels odd to speak by mouth then. With the exception of speaking Sylvan to the hands that passed, it's primarily been signing and telepathic connection.
"I have a little wish to create a wall of stone--"
And the magic leaves her, concentrating on creating stone to replace what had been destroyed.
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Limited Wish. Caster Level: 19 DC: 25
"I would show you, but that would involve dance." Harkashan signs back to Cor'lana. "I believe it is popular in Goblin Town though."
The wall of stone gradtually rebuilds itself, once more leavinthe gateway to the manifestation of the Unloved King blocked off from the world.
The thundering vibration remains, but at least you're safe for the moment. Probably.
Telamon pulls a scroll out of his haversack, and holds it up to a ring on his finger. A flash of blue light comes from the ring, playing over the scroll, before it pulses once. Tucking the scroll away again, Telamon begins to walk around where his wife has laid down the wall of stone, checking for any breaks in the barrier.
"Check for any open spots," he signs to Aryia. "If you see any, point them out and I can close them with stone shape." His lips curl up faintly, perhaps at a memory.
Seldan, too, is sweating lightly on emerging, although the armor conceals and wicks off the worst of it, but instead of shaking, he is quiet and pensive, and is about to dig into his pack for his scrolls when Cor'lana steps up. The last of the precautions get put away, once she is done working, and he regards the wall once it is formed distantly. The vibration in his feet is no longer enough to rattle his teeth, but he signals to the others, We should camp elsewhere. There is something I must do, once we are to safety.
Aryia shakes her head at Harkashan, hazarding a weak chuckle. "Just be glad we didn't have to do a jiggy this time around. Had to do one before in a different buried ruin. Was terrible."
Seeing as Cor'lana has the hole covered- literally- she releases the slab she was going to pick up and fires off a thumbs up the enchantress's way. A look to Telamon, and a sharp nod as she goes about Cor'lana's work, looking for any holes. A hand flicks to Seldan, "Agree completely. Maybe something with a nice view of the Everstorm." <Handspeech/Tongues>
Cor'lana nods to Seldan's suggestion, seemingly satisfied with her work once it's done and is getting the Aryia-inspection. She knows Aryia well enough to know that she won't miss a single spot in the stone--nothing gets by her. "Perhaps we can journey away a bit and find a place for Telamon to put down his magnificent mansion doorway?" she suggests with another signing.
She offers her husband a small smirk. "He doesn't do well 'roughing it'. Even our honeymoon in the Mythwood was a nice estate in the woods." It's a well-natured poke. <Handspeech>
"Let us be careful. With magic being strange in this place." Harkashan takes a moment to warn when there's talk of casting spells and taking a nap inside of any kinds of halls or homes.
"Hark has a point. Let's head away from it a little ways. The magic here feels a little twitchy -- probably due to the echoes -- and I don't want the spell going awry." With that, Telamon finishes his check of the plug, gives Lana a smile, and leads the group off. Walking briskly for about a half hour, until Tel pauses, reaching down to pat the earth.
He nods, and gives the others a thumbs-up, before pulling another scroll out. Touching the hem of his robe, a shimmer of light along the hem as he focuses, drawing on his vestment and the scroll to craft the spell... opening the portal to his hideaway.
GAME: Telamon casts Reverse Gravity. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26
Seldan looks up when the spell is cast, and is quick to venture through the portal. Once inside, he sets aside most of his gear, but quietly excuses himself into a side room before eating, taking his pack with him. Perhaps five minutes later, there comes, audible to all, a cacophonic burst of half a dozen raised, arguing voices. For those with sharper ears, the gist of it appears to be akin to what in the name of the Nineteenth Iron Hell was THAT for?
Another five-ten minutes after that, he re-emerges with the pack, lets out a long breath, and sets his pack by the door, and only then sets about removing his armor and preparing for dinner.
GAME: Seldan rolls knowledge/arcana: (16)+25: 41 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (9)+25: 34 GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/arcana: (7)+21: 28 GAME: Aryia rolls knowledge/arcana: (10)+3: 13
When the group's munching over dinner inside the fairy castle that Telamon's created, there's a discussion about the very nature of the Unloved King. Through the collective power of knowledge of magic and symbology, the group comes to one conclusion: the images seen refer to the reflection of the story of the Unloved King. The song has created an otherwordly fey reflection that resides in Quelynos--a reflection that is inextricably bound to, and reflective of, the song here on the face of Ea.
It's only a little while through this discussion that Cor'lana has a realization. Her hand goes to the curuchuil mark on her chest. "The Unloved King... It is a weapon," she says. "Created by a pact of some sort, most likely. That means someone made it, and for a purpose. Its appearance in the middle of the demon wars casts even more oddness onto the Unloved King. It could have been made to fight demons. It could have been made to fight fey-allied demons, or... It's impossible to know, really."
A direction's decided: in order to break the power of the song upon Ea, the group must truly go to Quelynos to deal with the reflection. This is what sees Cor'lana standing with the group outside of the magnificent mansion after a rest. Hands joined together, she takes a breath.
"Here goes nothing. To Grandfather's woods we go." She speaks aloud the words and casts the spell to bring the party into those familiar twilight-shrouded woods... if the leylines permit it.
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Plane Shift. Caster Level: 19 DC: 25 GAME: Harkashan casts Heroes' Feast. Caster Level: 13 DC: 23
A Heroes' Feast held at the fairy castle. Those who travel with Harkashan will never go hungry... or without Thacos. It does mean that Ravenstongue has to suffer the pain that is more spicy food and the expectations of participating in the cuisine.
He remains quiet for the most part though. He's slowly absorbing all of the information he is learning, but he's having some trouble still with the full context of the world at large, and recent occurrences. But it's slowly starting to be pieced together.
Once dinner is done, and they plane-shift, Harkashan patiently waits, hand in hand with his allies. Awaiting the magical shift.
At a proper table with food, hearing restored, in the safety of an extra dimensional space, Aryia slinks down into her chair, most of her mountains of plates cleaned off as she's boring a hole into the ceiling with her glaring. She doesn't know much in terms of what matters with the fey and not, save for giving a nudge in the right direction here and there.
Her gaze drops down, along with her frown. "This shit is always some kind of twisted up, impossible knot."
She inhales, rolling her shoulders and scooping up a handful of incredibly spicy thlacos as she joins the group. Her free hand flits about. "If it's fey-demons, at least I get to punch two things I heavily dislike at the same time." A glance to Cor'lana. "No offence." <Handspeech/Tongues>
The discussion is so surreal, conducted over Harkashan's heroic feast in a fairy castle crafted from magic and Telamon's dreams. But's it clear they need to go to Quelynos, to track down this reflection and hopefully... stop it.
"It may well have been. Fey tactics and weapons can be somewhat eccentric, to put it mildly -- and Quelynos fey will be even more so. Add to that the horrors of the Demon Wars, and well... they may have tried something that had unforeseen side effects."
As the plane shift wraps around the group, shifting them to Quelynos, Telamon picks up the second half of the transport. "Stand close, please. And here we go." He incants his spell, wrapping the group in a shimmering sphere of light that flashes them across the intervening distance...
GAME: Telamon casts Greater Teleport. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26
"I would much prefer to avoid fiends, if possible," Verna notes, perhaps in comiseration and at least in concurrence with Aryia. "Present company and grandfather aside, I am not particularly fond of the fey, eith-" And then they shift across the barrier to Quelynos, then to Grandfather's house they go.
This time, Seldan was considerably more interested in eating than he was last time, and had listened to much of the discussion over a hefty plate before suggesting that the mirror suggested a cross-plane reflection. He'd eaten quite a bit before bed, but in the morning, awakens fresh and ready to go, and now stands with the others.
He is silent amid the others until the shift is completed.
As Telamon prepares to teleport them, he joins hands with those nearest him, saying, "Only a fool is incautious in the realms of the fae, for they do not think as we do."
Woods.
The shadows of tall trees loom over you, impossibly tall and covered in a ring of strange birds -- like an owl crossed with ravens. They sit admiset the branches in a vast ring about you, as if they expected your arrival. No doubt they did, their forms visible amongst the vividly covered autumnal leaves. Immediately, some of the birds descend upon Cor'lana and Telamon in warm greeting, covering their persons.
Despite the warm welcome, it is no doubt unwise to remain loing, and so the second part of the journey is soon underway, a vividly recollected teleport based on the mental image of a dead celestial sharing it with you.
You sense movement as the teleport takes hold.
... you don't make it directly to your destination.
You tumble out of the teleport, crashing into wooden ground. It takes a moment for you to gather yourself.
You stand upon an impossibly large, withered and dead branch, the blackened limb of an impossibly large tree. The branch serves as bridge, leading you to another impossibly vast tree, in which a dreary castle is build upon, around, and over the trunk.
The sad stone edifice is covered in ivy-wrapped stone, dead and dying in the chill wintery air. Snow falls. Patches of ice on the branch.
If ever there was a king unloved by all, this would be his home... ahead of you, across the withered branch, up an impossibly vast set of steps to doors that are wide open, a welcome to one and all that none have taken up on.