Same as It Ever Was (Part 30)
GAME: Telamon casts Overland Flight. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26 GAME: Telamon casts Mind Blank. Caster Level: 20 DC: 29 GAME: Telamon casts Fireball. Caster Level: 20 DC: 24 GAME: Telamon casts Gate. Caster Level: 20 DC: 30 GAME: Harkashan casts Heroes' Feast. Caster Level: 19 DC: 26 GAME: Harkashan casts Miracle. Caster Level: 19 DC: 29 GAME: Harkashan casts Magic Circle Against Evil. Caster Level: 19 DC: 23 GAME: Harkashan casts True Seeing. Caster Level: 19 DC: 25 GAME: Harkashan casts Shield of Faith. Caster Level: 19 DC: 21 GAME: Harkashan casts Zone of Truth. Caster Level: 19 DC: 22 GAME: Harkashan casts Archon's Aura. Caster Level: 19 DC: 23 GAME: Harkashan casts Magic Vestment. Caster Level: 19 DC: 23 GAME: Harkashan casts Magic Circle Against Evil. Caster Level: 19 DC: 23 GAME: Harkashan casts Magic Circle Against Evil. Caster Level: 19 DC: 23 GAME: Harkashan casts Aura of Doom. Caster Level: 19 DC: 24 GAME: Simony casts Greater Angelic Aspect. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26 GAME: Rune used a Wand of Shield. GAME: Harkashan casts Greater Angelic Aspect. Caster Level: 19 DC: 28 GAME: Telamon casts Shield. Caster Level: 20 DC: 22
The Cave of Sorrows is, unsurprisingly, volcanic rock. The heat grows more and more intense as the group travels through the tunnel.
At the very end of the winding path is an opening into a larger chamber. Oppressively hot, the flow of magma churns underneath the stone flooring. Four fiends, strangely bipedal, surround a grouping of rocks that have little lines of magma-enscribed runes.
In the center, Maxitia-Mayana floats above the magma, enshrined in a fiery aura. He has dark blue scales and green eyes, much like Zeke, but his wings are... obsidian. Jet-black, almost glass-like, a smoking mirror that reflects nothing. Tattered black robes cling to his form. If he has a prosthetic arm, it cannot be seen underneath the robes--as of the moment.
He turns his gaze to the party of adventurers that approach. He opens his mouth.
The world shakes.
"Tlemach oamaxqueo?" The words are simple, and with their last syllable, the shaking stops. <Draconic?>
The fiends turn to face the adventurers. "O Obsidian, may we destroy them?" one of them queries.
Maxitia-Mayana shakes his head, looking at Zeke first and foremost. "Not yet." There's the rumble of earth again. It seems he can speak the common tongue. Then he stares at Zeke. "Ipalnemohuani. He Through Whom One Lives. Please give me your lifeblood. If you do, I will let your companions go freely to find my conspirator."
GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/the planes: (12)+18: 30 GAME: Simony rolls knowledge/the planes: (3)+10: 13
Zeke, or Ipalnemohuani looks upon his double, ignoring the fiends as though they are utterly unimportant. And they are. To him.
"It issss time that we ssshare wordssss." His own silabant voice hisses through the air without the deep-earth vibrations of Maxitia-Manyana. Yet his voice is strong and determined. "Thissss one will ssstay here with you. The othersss will go ahead. If blood isss what you need kin, then thisss one will sssacrifisce."
He has no intent to die, not here, not yet, not for a long, long time. "Thisss one hasss no wisssh to fight you. There are thossse here that would call you friend, and call you kin. You need not be alone any longer."
The wings on her back puff up, straightening and stretching in an effort to make the Goblin look bigger, and to disguise the fact that she is stepping in front of Nala and Telanmo, the multiple auras emitted by her spell surrounding the couple in a protective bubble. She also pulls the hammer from her belt, and pulls her shield into position.
Her gaze goes to Zeke, and her eyes say no, not to give his lifeblood to his alternate. "He Through Whom One Lives?", she wonders softly, her eyes flicking quickly through her companions, to see if there is recognition there.
Aryia heads on through at the front of the group with the others as layers upon layers of spells are cast upon the party and her own fortifications, only to step into the chamber. Her hands clench at the sight of the fiends, little tiny motes of moonlight spilling forth but she keeps a lid on it.
But, then her gaze falls upon the double. She can't help but frown in sadness slightly, but she straightens up, glancing to the others. Particularly Zeke. She was the bowstring, waiting for the others to let loose on their call.
The heat of the Cave of Sorrows seems eerily familiar to Rune. It carries with it similarities to a certain volcanic structure that she and her allies had once infiltrated while dealing with the threat of the Forgotten. It was a tense encounter, one in which she had only barely made it out alive. So, the rogue is just a bit on-edge, sweat beading on her forehead and causing her hair to cling to her skin.
The sight of Maxitia-Mayana has her squinting behind her enhanced lenses, though that attention doesn't linger there for long before flittering to the larger creatures surrounding him. Her hands rest on her weapons, standing at the ready, given the very real threat in their words.
She does seem to leave it to Zeke, though, offering only a brief murmur, "Careful, my friend." However, this is his own counterpart, and she will follow his lead.
Telamon gives Zeke a stern look. He knows his friend's tendencies, but... "One does not treat an addict by giving him more of what he is addicted to, Zeke."
With that, he turns his depthless, starry eyes on Maxitia-Mayana, dismissing the fiends almost contemptuously. "Still... our fight is with your conspirator, as you say. It might be in your interest, and the interest of your patron, to not interfere." His lips quirk up. "Do not think this would be an easy battle. I am patient, but my patience has its limits."
Harkashan steps forward, taking his role as protector rather seriously. The amount of magic wreathed around his allies significant in kind and power. Yet there are many more spells he could cast in this moment to protect them further.
Yet, for now, he does not do so. Instead, giving the opportunity to talk. Though, with the presence of Fiends here, that may be more trouble than otherwise.
His Zone of Truth he'd cast ahead of time spreading to encompass Maxitia-Mayana as well as the fiends, as he inquires; "For what do you require his lifeblood?"
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+13: (12)+13: 25 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+13: (11)+13: 24 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+13: (19)+13: 32 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+13: (10)+13: 23
Harkashan's zone washes over the fiends. All of them laugh at Harkashan, as though their mockery alone might make the Deathsinger die of shame that his spell did not work, but they blink when they see the spell take hold on Maxitia-Mayana.
The blue-scaled sith-makar who is like Zeke, but not, remains resolute. "I must consume of the Giver of Life's blood. My name is Maxitia--to make whole--because I am not yet whole." Maxitia stares with green eyes at Zeke, through Zeke, almost dispassionately.
Then he recites... poetry?
"In can on nemian noyollo yehua? Can huel ye no-chan? Can huel nocallamanian? Ninotolinia tlalticpac." <Draconic?>
The fiends are utterly silent as Maxitia-Mayana continues. "These are the words that have haunted me since the day I was born. There is no place for me. The Tyrant has tried to make me a place, and I have benefitted of his gifts, but for me to become whole..."
He pulls open his robes to reveal... No arm. No leg. Then with a breath, there are almost gaseous-looking things.
"The smoking mirror provides, but they are smoke. Not real. Not whole. I am not whole." Maxitia-Mayana is utterly sober again. "He is the Giver of Life. Through him, I may live. I fear none of you, and I do not fear death. I welcome it, if that is what you would offer me instead."
Ipalnemohuani looks at his companions for a moment, his green eyes steady and fearless. "Thisss isss what I came here for. To give him life, to make him whole in waysss that he doesss not yet underssstand that he isss empty. Thisss one mussst go."
Ipalnemohuani moves forward then, unafraid, unwilling to back away from his chance now that it lies before him. If his blood is necessary to make this one whole, he will give it. It is only blood. He will not back away from Maxitia-Mayana as so many others must have. He will not be afraid. He has faith, and it moves with him as he moves across the broken floor.
Harkashan takes a half-step back as the creature speaks in such old Draconic. It reminds him a bit of his own Patron, who speaks of old things sometimes. But not with this kind of crimson need, not in a way that stirs the blood so directly.
He tilts his head, looking to Zeke.
"Be careful, Kin." He warns the mirror to this Alter, and awaits what will occur, nervously adjusting his buckler in case the fiends interfere.
The Goblin tilts her head slightly, her mind working to translate an older language, with unfamiliar inflection and eccentricities. Her expression grows sad at hearing the alt-Zeke's anguish laid bare, and she raises her voice.
"You could learn peace, and live among the People, your kin. You could have limbs fashioned, as Z.. Ipalnemohuani has had done." She swallows noisily. "I.. could try growing you flesh, bone and sinew. It is possible, though arduous."
Telamon's voice is sharp. "Do not make me return to your cihuaa without you, Zeke." Perhaps Zeke must try to make this broken mirror whole again, but as Telamon said, there are limits to his patience.
The starborn sorcerer lifts off the ground, watching as Zeke approaches. It's clear he -wants- to swoop in, but he's got too much respect for the old makari to interfere... for the moment. Floating in the air, his cloak fluttering around him in the waves of heat.
A scowl is cast towards the demonic figures as they laugh, but Rune doesn't move forward despite her urge to deal with such creatures in the only way they understand. However, picking a fight seems to work opposite to what their intentions are here. So, as Zeke steps further forward, Rune just nods her head once. "I trust your judgement. Just... let us know if you need us."
Even with this said, there is a long look cast towards the limbless version of Zeke before them. She can understand, in some ways, that loss. She had met the mother that had so traumatized Ipalnemohuani. The sight is unsettling.
Her hands remain resting on her weapons, ready to go at any notice from their companion that he needs their help. This is magic beyond her understanding, Rune is just here as back-up should things go badly.
Aryia gives a slight nod of encouragement to Ipalnemohuani before they step forward, her taking a half step to the side. A small sigh escapes her at hearing the poem, an involuntary hand rubbing at her throat.
"Is anyone ever truly whole?" she gestures rhetorically, glancing at the others as the tension ratchets. "Everyone is always missing something, it is something one must overcome or live with." <Handspeech/Tongues>
The almost centaur-like fiends--odd four-legged entities that they are--visibly blink their eldritch eyes as they watch Zeke (Ipalnemohuani) begin to stride towards Zeke. They begin to argue between each other.
"He will not be happy if we let him do this." "No he will not. We will be demoted for this. _Destroyed_ for this." "We had it so easy! We can't let Master's pet just take the blood of--"
Maxitia's nostrils flare, and the pulse of shadow from his shadow-made limb, growing larger for a moment before it returns to a more defined collective, seems to make the fiends pause. At least for a moment. When he shakes, it is a sharp rebuke in an earthquake.
"In titloque in tinahuaque nimitzontlaocolnonotzaya, nelcicihuiliz mixpantzinco noconiyahuaya, ninentlamati in tlalticpac ye nican nitlatematia, ninotolinia, in ayc onotechacic in pactli, in necuiltonolli ye nican; tlezannen naicoyc amo y mochiuhyan, tlacazo atle nican xotlacueponi in nentlamachtillia, tlacazo zan ihuian in motloc in monahuac." <Draconic> The words rock the chamber violently, and Nala screams out as she loses her footing, taking Telanmo down to the ground with her, where they hold onto each other tightly. Yiara manages to stay upright, as do Shankahar and Runelei.
Then Maxitia-Mayana floats gently down to Zeke--Ipalnemohuani. Green eyes peer into each other, seeking understanding, seeking the mirror that reflects--not the smoking mirror in which there is nothing but what Maxitia-Mayana's god would have him see. Zeke can see them now.
There's tears in Maxitia-Mayana's eyes.
"Macuelehuatl ma xicmonequilti ma monahuactzinco oc ehuiti in noyolia, ninixayohuatzaz in motloc monahuac tipalnemohuani." This one line is not a shaking of the earth. It is a whisper. It begs. It pleads.
Maxitia-Mayana holds up his one clawed hand to await the pouring of blood.
<OOC> Riptide says, "Translation 1: To thee, the Cause of All, to thee I cried out in sadness, my sighs rose up before thy face; I am afflicted here on earth, I suffer, I am wretched, never has joy been my lot, never good fortune; my labor has been of no avail, certainly nothing here lessens one's suffering; truly only to be with thee, near thee." <OOC> Riptide says, "Translation 2: May it be thy will that my soul shall rise to thee, may I pour out my tears to thee, before thee, O thou Giver of Life."
GAME: Telamon rolls sense motive: (7)+31: 38 GAME: Simony rolls sense motive: (4)+31: 35 GAME: Aryia rolls sense motive: (17)+31: 48 GAME: Rune rolls sense motive+1: (12)+25+1: 38 GAME: Zeke rolls Sense Motive: (8)+9: 17
SImony makes a noise of concern, and turns to assist Nala and Telanmo regain their footing. To what Maxitia-Mayana says, she has no response. There is much concern in her expression though, from what the fiends say, and this impending sharing of blood.
Ipalnemohuani's tail shifts back and forth, slow and easy. It is acceptance. It is peace. The blue-scaled sith with his crystal limbs reaches out with the one made of flesh and blood. Without hesitation he brings that limb over those outstretched claws. With his crystal limb he makes his sacrifice, that crystal claw becoming a weapon of crystal instead. He cuts his scale and flesh and bleeds. A gout of red into blue claws.
He speaks then himself in draconic gently. "To you I offer Life. To you I offer Memory. To you I offer all that is and may be." His flesh and blood claw, appropriately, lands upon the other sith's forehead. Offering the benediction of blessing.
GAME: Zeke casts Atonement. Caster Level: 20 DC: 24 GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (18)+26: 44
Aryia grimaces at the shaking of earth and the fiends arguing amongst another. The mute pugilist's pulse on her neck visibly pulses faster as this moment draws grimacingly tight. The religious upheaval, while she herself wasn't much of the faith, is palpable.
And then her eyes go wide, her lifting her shades up.
Telamon perceives what Zeke is doing, and his jaw drops fractionally. His eyes widen, and then his lips curl up in a smile. Of course. Of course this is the play, and Zeke would be the one to do it. "Well done, my friend," he whispers with a grin. He doesn't know if it'll be enough. And he's pretty sure the fiends are going to throw a tantrum about it.
He continues to float sedately, even as the earth shudders, and he takes his gaze off the tableau of Zeke and Maxitia to watch the devils. Because if they interfere, he'll be happy to discourage it.
"Wish I had time to write some of this down... I'm pretty sure Blue would appreciate the words." Rune murmurs under her breath. Ever the writer, she can't help but realize poignant moment when she sees it.
However, she does shoot a glare that could wither lesser beings towards the demons as they start talking about interrupting. She doesn't strictly have to threaten them, the look likely communicates her intentions if they decide to interfere.
Then, her eyes lock on the 'twin' Makari, uncertain just what she is seeing, but her expression spellbound, regardless.
Harkashan remains at attention, similarly to some of the others here. If the fiends interfere in some way or another, everyone here is Ready to move and protect Zeke and Anti-Zeke. He's listening with an open ear and an open mind - in case things would go badly. Worried since there is a certain amount of danger to letting something that is Forgotten to... well... eat. Yet, it seems this being had gone beyond Forgotten and embodies the attempt of those who had eaten of such flesh…
GAME: Zeke rolls Will: (1)+26: 27 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Simony rolls will: (14)+24: 38 GAME: Aryia rolls will: (19)+21: 40 GAME: Aryia rolls will: (4)+21: 25 GAME: Telamon rolls Will: (12)+25: 37 GAME: Zeke rolls Will: (11)+26: 37 GAME: Harkashan rolls Will: (10)+28: 38 GAME: Harkashan rolls Will: (15)+28: 43
"NO!" the fiends call out, rushing towards Maxitia-Mayana, but the blood is poured onto the forehead--
The chamber is filled with light. Bursting, brightening, blinding light, brilliant light--the light of the Dragonfather. When the light dissipates...
Zeke--Ipalnemohuani--sees a mirror. Maxitia-Mayana is in front of him. His wings are obsidian, just as before, but there's a holy white smoke that seems to shine within them. An arm and a leg that were not there before are made also of obsidian, a holy white smoke also moving within them. Maxitiya-Mayana's green eyes are awash in gratitude.
"Macitoc." Something whole. Zeke's alternate smiles benevolently. Just a heartbeat later, it's apparent this is Maxitia's new name. Something Whole.
Behind Zeke, one of the fiends makes a desperate attempt, uttering a single word of evil that rolls over everyone--but everyone is stalwart enough to withstand. "Reclaim the Hungerer!" the fiends cry out.
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+32: (14)+32: 46
One of the fiends charges forward to grab Macitoc. "You know you have to obey the Master's will! You can't abandon He who has given you so much!" the fiend snarls.
"But I will," Macitoc replies placidly. The monstrous hand doesn't grasp around him.
Meanwhile, another devil teleports forward to face Aryia. It smiles with awful rows of awful teeth. Its breath is acidic. "Hello, puny mortal," it says, pulling back an arm to claw at Aryia.
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+20+11: (19)+20+11: 50 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+20+4: (10)+20+4: 34 GAME: Telamon casts Horrid Wilting. Caster Level: 20 DC: 29 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+21: (7)+21: 28 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+21: (16)+21: 37 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+21: (12)+21: 33 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+21: (20)+21: 41 GAME: Telamon rolls 20d6: (72): 72 GAME: Telamon casts Haste/Quicken. Caster Level: 20 DC: 28 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+28: (16)+28: 44 GAME: Harkashan casts Holy Aura. Caster Level: 19 DC: 28 GAME: Harkashan casts Destruction. Caster Level: 19 DC: 27 GAME: Harkashan rolls 1d8+10: (5)+10: 15
Telamon just shakes his head. "I knew that was going to happen," he says ruefully. Then it's to battle, and Telamon is not idle.
As the devil lunges toward Aryia, the sorcerer uses Harkashan as cover for a moment to cast his first spell, weaving mana into a ghostly blue-white glow... which he then flings into the fiends' midst. It detonates with a soundless flash, washing over the devils and clawing at their flesh not with fire or lightning but something more intrinsically anathemic to their essence.
A quick-stuttered spell sends another wave of energy surging, wrapping around his allies and quickening their movements, as Telamon grins. "And now... why don't we see how confident you are when you're not the biggest thing in the room?" He makes a simple gesture, and then...
At first it looks like Tel is just stretching. But then he swells, growing bigger. Bigger, even, until he stands eye to eye with the fiends. Strange, curving horns like that of a ram curl out of his ghostly silver hair, and a single third eye opens in his brow, the eyeball pure black and filled with stars. "I am Koz'gon's Bane," Telamon, the Starborn King, growls. "And I will be your bane as well."
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+29+2+1: (18)+29+2+1: 50 GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+24+2+1: (15)+24+2+1: 42 GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+17+2+1: (17)+17+2+1: 37
Harkashan lets out a long sigh. Relief flowing through him as Zeke and his Alter manage to complete the ritual, and making his Alter whole again. That was a lot less trouble than he was worried about. Of course, the Fiends then have to make things more troublesome.
<"You will not retrieve them."> Harkashan declares, in a firm statement that is firm enough, it echoes with Divine Certainty. A holy aura erupting around him, touching his Kin, as well as most of his allies as he moves forward. His clawed hand touching a fiend's claw as it tries to swipe at him, an ashen shield forming before his fingers and deftly deflecting the blow before he forms threads of silver amongst them all, and ripping the luck out of the fiends before feeding it back into his allies.
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d8+10+2d6+1: (6)+10+(8)+1: 25 GAME: Zeke rolls 1d8+10+2d6+1: (4)+10+(7)+1: 22 GAME: Zeke rolls 1d8+10+2d6+1: (8)+10+(12)+1: 31 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+13: (19)+13: 32 GAME: Zeke rolls 10d6: (45): 45 GAME: Zeke rolls 10d6: (29): 29 GAME: Zeke rolls 10d6: (40): 40 GAME: Simony casts S8: Blessing of Fervor. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26
The sith-makar known as Zeke to most, becomes a whirlwind of white light pouring forth from his wings, his arm, his leg, from his very *being*. The light slams into the fiend. Once, twice, thrice. Searing and blistering the evil creature with the light of the Dragonfather. "Thisss one will not let you harm him! He isss free now, free to ssserve assss hisss heart truly desssiresss. Macitoc issss whole!"
And Zeke is so, very proud of him.
GAME: Simony rolls knowledge/the planes: (7)+10: 17 GAME: Simony rolls knowledge/the planes: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Simony casts Righteous Might. Caster Level: 20 DC: 23 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+25: (9)+25: 34 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+25: (8)+25: 33 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+25: (5)+25: 30 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+25: (7)+25: 32 GAME: Riptide rolls 4d6: (16): 16 GAME: Riptide rolls 4d6: (13): 13 GAME: Riptide rolls 4d6: (12): 12 GAME: Riptide rolls 4d6: (15): 15 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+25: (18)+25: 43 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+25: (17)+25: 42 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+25: (19)+25: 44 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+25: (9)+25: 34 GAME: Riptide rolls 4d6: (10): 10 GAME: Riptide rolls 4d6: (15): 15 GAME: Riptide rolls 4d6: (10): 10 GAME: Riptide rolls 4d6: (15): 15
The devils remaining in the back decide to not crowd the front-line, opting instead to launch fiery bolts at Zeke. "Interloper!" they cry out in frustration. "Were it not for you, he would still be one of ours!"
GAME: Rune takes ten on bluff+1: (10)+39+1: 50 GAME: Rune rolls weapon2-2+1: (11)+33+-2+1: 43 GAME: Rune rolls weapon1-7+1: (12)+33+-7+1: 39 GAME: Rune rolls weapon2-7+1: (7)+33+-7+1: 34
"Be careful!", she says to Nala and Telanmo. "These are fiends. Not to be trusted, expect the unexpected from them." Case in point, the one demon moving to attempt to grapple with Max and fail. "I will do my best to watch over you."
Simony looks about the battlefield as it begins to get messy. She seems extremely pleased as she raises up a hand to snap her fingers. There's a ripple seen, a little flash of light, and then a familiar feeling washing over everyone nearby, as Harkashan and the Goblin have both used this spell before. Choices to be made, the backing of Navos a comforting thing in the back of one's mind.
She begins a prayer, chanting and moving her hands in a delicate pattern... and then pauses. A far away expression comes over the Goblin's face, and then she blinks. The prayer changes... the patterns weaved is different.
And then, similarly to Telamon, she grows in size, becoming more like an Oruch than a wee Goblin. "HAMMER TIME!"
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1-12+1: (7)+33+-12+1: 29 GAME: Rune rolls weapon2-12+1: (6)+33+-12+1: 28 GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1: (13)+33+1: 47 GAME: Rune rolls damage2+1d6+10d6: aliased to 1d6+8+1d6+10d6: (6)+8+(6)+(36): 56 GAME: Rune rolls damage1+1d6+10d6: aliased to 1d6+8+1d6+10d6: (4)+8+(1)+(30): 43 GAME: Rune rolls damage2+1d6+10d6: aliased to 1d6+8+1d6+10d6: (6)+8+(4)+(38): 56 GAME: Rune rolls damage1+1d6+10d6: aliased to 1d6+8+1d6+10d6: (4)+8+(1)+(40): 53 GAME: Rune rolls damage1+1d6+10d6: aliased to 1d6+8+1d6+10d6: (6)+8+(3)+(37): 54
The earlier threats were enough that Rune had been prepared for the moment that the fiends begin their assault. The snarl of rage that she gives off is distinctly Makari for someone quite so elvish. "You're going to regret your life choices in few seconds..."
Especially when one of them decides to appear right in front of her. It is as if the creature wanted to die. It walks right into danger without a moment of hesitation.
"Die." Rune steps in and with a blur of blades, she slices into the nearest demon. Slashes take the creature out at the knees, dropping it down onto the ground before she stabs one of the swords directly through it's abdomen and slices out the side, following up with a spinning slash of her blade across the creature's throat.
It gurgles, and then falls forward with a sloppy splat of blood and viscera. Rune turns her eyes to the other fiends. "Who's next?" Light glints off of her blades ominously.
And the tension snaps.
Caught a bit off guard of the sudden change to the now Macitoc, Aryia gasps as arcane energies and divine blessings intermingle in her pulse. A fiend materializes in front of her. "Hello, massive prick," she signs back up at them. There's a glance to Rune, her holding back to let the blade dancer do her dirty yet effective work. Then Aryia breaks forward past the gurgling fiend, nodding to Rune along the way. A quick blitz up the rock pillar beyond, and she lands on at the apex. <Handspeech/Tongues>
A hollow thud resonates within as boots hit the rock. A familiar feeling. A river given way to an ocean. An expanse. Vast. And it's rushing. Mind, soul, body, it's all one piece. She dives. And the pugilist breathes In.
Her skin cracks into onyx and marble, her hands cascading into brilliant shadow of penumbratic light. She adopts a stance- palms and fingers in a perfect circle, in a half crouch. Unseen wind picks up around her, swirling dust, eyes bursting into trailing energies. A heartbeat later: A small eclipse pulses to life in her hands. Growing with every passing second as she glances to the fiend off the in the corner.
Macitoc's voice is a benevolent thing, unchanging even though Zeke has been burned severely by their enemies. He grasps Ipalnemohuani by the shoulders.
The chamber quivers gently when he speaks again. No destruction, only the gentle movement of the soul.
"In chalchihuitl ohuayee on quetzal pipixauhtimania in amo tlatolhuia, noyuh ye quittoa yayoquan yehuayan cuetzpal ohuaye anquinelin ye quimatin ipalnemoa ohuaya," which, this time, everyone can understand, and for Harkashan and Zeke, the words are, once again, nudges to the memory of blood: "It rains down precious stones and beauteous feathers rather than words; it seems to be as one reveling in food, as one who truly knows the Giver of Life."
And then Zeke is renewed by gentle light. It's Macitoc's first act as a cleric of Daeus.
-TBC