CHAPTER 10, Part 2
The Nine Hells
Mid January

The P.A.R.T.Y. is divided into two squads at the moment: Team Tunnel, which consists of Boreas, Maeve, a polymorphed young-green-dragon Keef, and Chubbs, plus OSA mages Drake, Les, Stevens, and Jenkins and their steward, Reginald; and Team Spire, which consists of Lyriel and Zuriel along with an army of Crusaders led by Knight-Captain Edrahil.

Team Tunnel

Keef, newly transformed into a young green dragon, struts his stuff and waits for an opening during which he can attempt to distract the two erinyes patrolling the chasm that stands between the P.A.R.T.Y. and the rest of the tunnels.

Les is not currently with the group, having rushed back into the tunnels to seal off a passage by dismissing a spell they used to get through it earlier.

Team Spire

The knight-captain barks a command to his vanguard, sending a dozen men hurtling toward the entrance to the tunnels with orders to arrest anyone they find. He then turns toward the spire's staircase and nods.

"You are correct, of course. We should secure the spire before we commit our full attention to ferreting out the remnant of their forces. And we can deal with our dead and theirs at that point, as well. Upward!"

With that, the knight-captain begins to ascend the spiral staircase, followed closely by his standard-bearer, Lt. Faye.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:24, Tue 29 July 2014.

Zuriel and Lyriel exchange a look, and follow Edrahil and Lt. Faye upward.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 2):

Maeve crouches quietly, waiting for Keefdragon to fly out and distract the erinyes so that the rest of them can sneak by.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 3):

Keefdragon snorts and paws at the dirt of the tunnel, then tests its new wings carefully.

Quickly, he's buffeting gusts that blow cloaks and hair to and fro.

With a nod, he takes wing and darts off down the tunnel toward the waiting demons.  When he gets closer, Keefdragon lets out a high-pitched roar that you're pretty sure translates to: "WHEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

[Private to DM: OOC:  Unless I get blasted from the sky, intention is to fly down the crevice and get them to chase.]

In reply to Keef (msg # 4):

The Tunnel

The erinyes look at each other, nok their bows, and dive down into the crevice after the dragon.

In reply to DM (msg # 5):

"Right then.  Let's step lively now."

With a quick glance about her to be sure that no more erinyes are hiding just out of sight, Maeve (presumably) begins to quickly lead the others toward the tunnel exit.

Once the Erinyes are out of sight, Boreas and the other mages step over the narrow gap and head down the tunnel.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 7):

The Tunnel

Boreas, Maeve, Drake, Stevens, and Jenkins, hurry past the chasm, leaving Keef to his own devices in the chasm. Les has yet to return from his double-back mission.

In reply to DM (msg # 8):

The Spire

Edrahil et al. work their way up the staircase, pausing to search every room on the way up to ensure it is uninhabited before continuing to the next floor. There are no doors at all on the 13th or 14th landing, and the library nearest to the top floor has been ransacked. The approach to the final chamber at the top is blocked by a stack of wooden doors, which have been wedged into the staircase and filled it entirely to an unknown depth -- likely no more than 10 feet.

Unable to find the clearance he needs to swing his hammer or even his sword in the narrow, twisted stairway, the knight captain draws a small handaxe from his belt instead and gets to work hacking away.

It is slow and tedious work, but it does appear to be making progress.

Lyriel looks on helplessly in frustration as Edrahil hacks slowly through the wooden obstacles.

We do *not* have time for this...

She steps forward, throwing back her cloak. Stand back, Knight-Captain.

[Casting Flame Strike]

The priestess extends a palm to the stairway, and as soon as Edrahil is clear, speaks a single word. A howling fills the air and a blinding column of emerald fire blasts forth, whipping loose hair and cloaks in the backdraft. The jet of flame, partially composed of raw divine energy easily pulverizes the intervening obstacles.

She flashes a wan smile at the Knight-Captain. We priestesses are useful to keep around sometimes, she says.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 10):

"Without a doubt," Edrahil says with a tight smile. "Now then... shall we?"

In reply to Edrahil Silendril (msg # 11):

The Spire

The group reaches the top of the spire without further incident, but the scene that awaits them is anything but expected. The bookshelves of scrolls are completely empty, and an armored solider stands next to the crate of potions, which is now empty. Broken and empty vials are strewn all around haphazardly, leaving puddles here and there that boil in the open air.

You recognize him as Benson, the soldier who was left on look-out duty. He is jittery beyond measure, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and drooling from the corner of his mouth. He has a glassy expression in his eyes, and magical liquid is splattered across his chest, face, and neck as though he had taken a long, sloppy drink from a river.

He holds an enormous glass bowl above his head with both hands, in which sloshes a cacophony of colors that sizzle, spark, and steam of their own volition.

The ladder leading to the roof is laying in the center of the room, shattered into a thousand splinters, and the eyepiece seems to be missing from the ceiling -- in its place is a dark hole which does not seem to lead outside. Perhaps there's an attic.

"Don't... come... BURP..." Benson stammers, sloshing the glass bowl unsteadily above his head. "Go... away!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:36, Tue 29 July 2014.

Boreas and the others continue down the tunnel as Keef and the other mage presumably make their way to catch up.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 13):

ROOOOOOAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!

Stay back! Lyriel warns sharply. There's no telling what such a volatile mixture will do.

She passes her longbow to Zuriel. In case this doesn't work...

As Edrahil and the others back away, Lyriel points her finger at Benson. [Casting Spiritual Weapon]

A brilliant longsword springs into existence, slicing downward with a blow that shatters the glass bowl into fine crystal dust.

[Damage: 7]

Lyriel gasps with recognition at the blade. That can't...

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 15):

The Spire

The glass shatters under the impact, pouring over the unfortunate Benson. His sobbing screams and shrieks intensify as the boiling liquid sears the flesh from his bones as easily as acid, and the man wails piteously before doubling over to puke a rainbow-colored stream of disgustingness onto the floor. After heaving mightily two or three times, he collapses into the puddle he just created.

The various potions swirl and collasce like an oil slick over water, twirling and mingling together to release a cloud of yellowish-green smoke that rolls toward the staircase and out the various windows like a vaporous tide.

The vapors quickly engulf the entire area, causing Lyriel, Faye, Zuriel, and Edrahil to begin caughing uncontrollably as the poisonous fumes make contact.

[Fort (Faye, Lyriel, Zuriel, Edrahil): 21, 11 (fail), 18, 32]

The fumes sap away your very lifeforce, lingering even as they slowly work their way across the room and down the stairs.

[CON Damage (Faye, Lyriel, Zuriel, Edrahil): 1,4,1,1]
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:30, Tue 29 July 2014.

In reply to DM (msg # 16):

"Blazes!" Edrahil swears, coughing as the fumes affect his group. He peers up at the hole, and then at the broken ladder. "Can you fly, priestess? Or clear the air?"

In reply to Edrahil Silendril (msg # 17):

The Spire

Brooks appears in the opening of the ceiling, peering down with palm outstretched threateningly.

"Leave, Flamebringers! Flee, or die!"

Edrahil snorts (though perhaps he is still coughing from the fumes that engulf the P.A.R.T.Y.), and raises his warhammer.

"Surrender, or face Tassada's Justice!"



***

The Tunnel

The P.A.R.T.Y. (minus Les and Keef) easily crosses the chasm and waits on the fair side of the tunnels. Though they wait for a generous amount of time, Les does not reappear.

"Let's go!" Reginald says. "Les is lost, your boy can take care of himself. We're vulnerable here."

The sound of metallic footsteps echoing from the tunnels through which the P.A.R.T.Y. came reiterates the steward's point. An enormous explosion rocks the tunnels seconds later, followed by a high-pitched squeal that sounds very Les-like.

***

The Chasm

The erinyes continue to futilely chase the Keefdragon, flying deeper and deeper into the pits of Hell. If the mage wants to pop back to the surface using a dimensional door, he's running out of time to do so...
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:28, Tue 29 July 2014.

Lyriel coughs uncontrollably, eyes watering. Seeing Zuriel reach for his sword and anticipating what he was about to do, she yells out sharply. Zuriel, give me a *cough* chance to *cough* the ladder...

The priestess rushes over to the shattered remains of the ladder, braving the poisonous fumes. Through her blurred vision, the limply writhing form of Benson is mercifully blurred.

[Mending]

Emerald energy swirls around the ladder, restoring the wood to its full integrity. She then throws herself onto the ground.

Now! she chokes out.

Zuriel's eyes sting, though not nearly as bad as Lyriel's. "If you had asked me but an hour earlier Father, the answer would have been yes to both. But for now, I'll have to settle for the latter!"

The paladin crouches in the staircase, leveling his sword upward at Brooks. "Corwynd!" he yells.

[Casting Gust]

The length of Zuriel's gilden sword flares with runes, and the golden maple leaf glows a verdant green. A sudden hurricane erupts in the room, blasting a column of poisonous air directly into Brook's face and beyond at 60 miles per hour. The wind continues unabated, venting the room of its poison in a matter of seconds.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 21:34, Tue 29 July 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 20):

The mage raises an arm to shield himself from the poisonous fumes, but is only partially successful.

[Fort damage: 3]

He narrows his eyes and makes a dismissive gesture at the room in general while uttering arcane words.

[Concentration: 28]
[Casting: Fireball]

A pea-sized ball of flame explodes in the center of the room, catching everyone within it with gouts of horrible fiery death.

[Reflex (Faye, Edrahil, Lyriel, Zuriel): 12 (fail), 28, 7 (fail), 10 (fail)]
[Damage (Faye, Edrahil, Lyriel, Zuriel): 36, 18, 36, 36]

The ladder, puddles of potion, and Benson are all consumed in smoke and blazing tendrils of flame, which lap at the consumable fuel until it's charred and unrecognizable.

In reply to DM (msg # 21):

"No!" Edrahil says as the flames explode around him. He grabs Zuriel by the shoulder, and a torrent of light-green energy suffuses him.

[Lay on Hands (Zuriel): 40]
This message was last edited by the player at 21:57, Tue 29 July 2014.

In reply to Edrahil Silendril (msg # 22):

Faye staggers, touching her forehead with a similar motion -- though her healing magic looks dark green, like Lyriel's does.

[Lay on Hands (Faye): 15]

Benson gurgles as the flames consume his clothing and what little remains of his ragged flesh, dead.


This message was last edited by the GM at 21:59, Tue 29 July 2014.

Maeve hesitates for a moment, assessing the situation.

"Let's get a move on.  Nothing we can do for Les, by the sound of things.  Garfunkel: if we're beset further on, take these men and get yourselves out of here.  I'll do my best to hold off anyone who tries to waylay us.  Keef's a smart boy; he can find us."

Hopefully.

That sounds like a plan.  Let's move out.  Keef will get to us.  He has more than a few tricks up his sleeve.

Faye, help me with this ladder! Zuriel strides to the center of the room, gesturing towards the mage with his sword. "You had your chance, Brooks."

A sudden calm comes over him, and his eyes begin to burn white. "He'ir!" he roars, as a dazzling explosion of light bursts from the paladin, washing over the room.

[Holy Nova: 14]

[Brooks' Reflex vs. DC 19: 6 (fail)]

Everybody, everything is bathed in pure white light. Zuriel, Lyriel, Faye, and Edrahil find it soothing, and it clears away much of their burns. Brooks, on the other hand, cries out in agony as the energy clings to his flesh, scalding it.

[14 healing to good, damage to evil. Daylight effect prevails in room]

At the center of the holy nimbus stands Zuriel, swirled in white mists. One cannot help but notice the myriad of armored shadows cast on the walls of the room. Shadows each sporting feathered wings.

Lyriel looks up at the mage towering above her as Zuriel's healing light bolsters her. With her mind, she directs the spiritual sword towards her assailant.

Help me...

[Attack: 23; Damage: 6]

The sword floats inexorably towards the mage in a swooping uppercut that draws blood along the still-scalding flesh of Brooks' torso.

Satisfied that the sword was engaged, she looks to a point in space behind and above Brooks.

[Casting Silence]

The mage's cries of pain are suddenly cut, though his face was still contorted in pain, and he was clearly crying out.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:40, Tue 29 July 2014.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 27):

The Tunnels

Boreas, Maeve, Les, Drake, and Jenkins bravely flee the chasm, leaving Les and Keef to their respective fates with nothing but well-wishes to urge them onward.

In time, the group reaches the room in which it arrived... though there is no obvious way to make the three stark, rune-encrusted walls take them back from whence they came.

Drake, Les, and Jenkins glance at each other, then each walks toward a different wall, hands tracing the runes gingerly.

"We can make this work," Drake says after a moment. "But we must not be interrupted while the ritual is cast. Can you see to it?"

Boreas sighs at the convenient delay.

I'll go back and see what Keef is doing.  Mariah, can you take the choke point?

Boreas fades from view, heading back toward the chasm.

[Casting Walk Unseen]
This message was last edited by the player at 02:55, Wed 30 July 2014.

Maeve takes up guard at the nearest chokepoint, reflecting on how all of her comrades-in-arms seem to be doing more interesting things than her.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 30):

Back in the Tunnels

Boreas makes his way back through the tunnels, moving quickly for almost 5 minutes before meeting the Keefdragon, who safely 'ported top-side at the last possible moment and is now a boy once more. Reunited, the pair makes its way back toward the end of the tunnel, trying to ignore the metallic footsteps continuing to inexorably advance down the tunnels.

End of the Tunnel

Almost (but not quite) ten minutes after Boreas leaves, Drake gives a triumphant shout and the runes blaze to life on all sides. A shimmering portal appears on the end opposite of the tunnel's starting point, but before anyone can go through, an enormous figure materializes.

The creature is a minotaur, for starters, dressed in black plate from head to foot. It takes Maeve a good six seconds or so to recognize Tuskrot, the arena champion who was recently "dispatched" by Mah'mout in the arena.

"What's the meaning of this?" Reginald demands. "See here, you brute! These runes are meant to take us home. Now step aside and let us pass with all speed."

Tuskrot snorts, rapping the butt of his greataxe against the ground with a hollow thump.

"Message from Darris," the minotaur says. "Bleeding hollow."

Reginald arches an eyebrow, perplexed.

"But they've been so helpful," he objects half-heartedly. "Are you sure?"

When Tuskrot fails to answer, the steward shrugs and turns toward Maeve.

"I'm terribly sorry, m'girl, but I'm afraid we're going to have to kill you. It's nothing personal, I assure you, but business is business."



Stevens points a finger at Maeve and utters words of power.

[Casting: Magic Missile]

Five missiles hurtle toward Maeve, striking her unfailingly.

[Damage (Maeve): 15]

Reginald gives him a withering glance filled with disdain, prompting the mage to hold up his hands defensively.

"It's all I've got left! So sue me... we've been fighting all day."

For his part, Reginald helps himself to the bag of research data Drake had been carrying and inches non-threateningly backward toward the shimmering portal behind Tuskrot, ensuring he is only five feet from the safety it promises.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:10, Wed 30 July 2014.

In reply to DM (msg # 31):

The Spire

Brooks, unable to cast, backs into the shadows of the attic and out of line of sight.

Faye charges toward the ladder, but it is so badly charred that it cannot support her weight. She doesn't make it four rungs before she comes crashing down -- taking half the ladder with her.

Edrahil glances up at the ceiling, equal parts perplexed and annoyed.


This message was last edited by the GM at 03:08, Wed 30 July 2014.

Zuriel glances around quickly, looking for some way to get up to the roof. His eyes fall on the bookshelves lining the room. He rushes over to one of them, and begins lugging it into position as a makeshift ladder.

"This should hold if somebody helps keep it stable!" he says.

Lyriel, having magic at her disposal, is under fewer limitations than her companion paladins.

Incanting a few words, a giant black bear appears just over the lip of the roof, visible for a moment before it immediately rears and lunges at wherever Brooks is hiding (missing).

[Summon Monster IV > 1d3 (1) Celestial Giant Bear]

Keef would approve, Lyriel thinks to herself.

Lyriel's faithful spiritual blade continues its grim work, however, taking another chunk out of Brooks.

[Damage: 5]
This message was last edited by the player at 03:37, Wed 30 July 2014.

Maeve gasps, more out of shock than pain, as Tuskrot's armored form appears before her.

"You. . . ." she breathes.  Then her golden eyes narrow in anger.

"Ты дал мне автограф, когда я был ребенком, вы сукин сын!"
[Private to DM: "You gave me your autograph when I was a child, you son of a bitch!"]

Maeve five-foots [square D7] and [whirlwind] trip attacks all those within reach.

[OOC: Gonna confess that I have no idea if I did this turn correctly.  Judging from the grid, it *looks* like I can hit Stevens, Tuskrot, and Jenkins this turn. (Reginald I believe is just far enough away to avoid me.)  If you rule that couldn't hit any of these three, just ignore the damages for them.

Also I forgot to roll cold damage; that's been added now.]

Stevens:
[Touch Attack: 21]
[Trip attempt: 19 vs. opposed: 13] = success
[Attack: 34]
[Damage: 25]

Jenkins:
[Touch attack: 37]
[Trip attempt: 28 vs. opposed: 17] = success
[Attack: 28]
[Damage: 20]

Tuskrot:
[Touch attack: 22]
[Trip attempt: 27 vs. opposed: 18] = success
[Attack: 36]
[Damage: 19]

"GARFUNKEL!" she shouts, not really sure why she's bothering to keep up the facade anymore. "Our new friends are becoming a bit murder-y!"

Maeve has time to reflect that that was a truly awful call to arms and vows to think of something better next time.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:32, Wed 30 July 2014.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 35):

The Spire

Silence reigns from the attic, as per Lyriel's spell. The bear, however, transmits an interesting sense of boredom and loss -- his target is not there.

Lyriel whips over to a window and glances upward just in time to see an injured Brooks flying off over the chasm, far away from the spire... a spectral sword slashing and hacking at him periodically as he goes.

~~ End Combat ~~

In reply to DM (msg # 36):

The Tunnels

Jenkins debates standing up, but sees the threatening-looking Easterner's look and decides against it.

"Stevens has the right of it," he says. "Humble as it is, the spell is effective."

[Casting: Magic Missile]
[Damage (Maeve): 14]

Drake, still standing, puts a hand on Tuskrot's prone form.

"An appropriately named spell for the situation," the mage grins as he casts his spell.

[Casting: Bull's Strength]

The minotaur's already-formidable muscles bulge and ripple, and then the minotaur attempts the stand.

[AOO from Maeve vs (prone) Tuskrot: 26]
[Damage: 19]

The minotaur roars in pain, but regains his footing. Shifting his grip on his greataxe, he advances toward Maeve to get into range... provoking another AOO when he does so.

[AOO TRIP from Maeve vs Tuskrot: 20 vs 18]

The minotaur goes down again without even reaching the space he wanted to be in, because trip is absolute bullshit. Maeve gets to make a free attempt to damage her foe, as well.

[Attacking prone minotaur: 29]
[Damage: 19]

Having successfully damaged himself more on his turn than Maeve did on hers, the minotaur nods to himself at a job well done.



Stevens decides to cast from the floor, since the only spell he claims to have left can't miss anyway.

[Casting: Magic Missile]

Five more bolts of magic hurl themselves at Maeve, splattering her with painful pinpricks that her armor does nothing to mitigate.

[Damage (Maeve): 16]

At that precise moment, Keef arrives in cell D5 on the grid. He has time to take a standard action or move further, but not both.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:40, Wed 30 July 2014.

The spectral blade takes one last chunk out of Brooks before rematerializing to hover next to Lyriel.

[Damage: 9]

She points helplessly out the window at the fleeing, flying mage.

Zuriel narrows his eyes. "I've got it. We can't let him get away." He rushes to the window, nocking an arrow and drawing his bow as he does so. Countless winged shadows mimic his action as he draws and releases, sending an arrow trailing a dazzling arc of white behind it.

[Smite Evil: 19]

[Damage: 19]

The arrow thuds into the cowardly mage's shoulder, and Zuriel watches as the limp form of Brooks careens off into the yawning Abyss surrounding the peninsula. He stares after the mage for several moments before turning back to Lyriel, Faye, and his father.

He nods. "It is done."

The shadowy angelic doppelgaengers nod with him.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:12, Wed 30 July 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 39):

The Spire

"It's done," Edrahil agrees, sheathing his weapons and sighing heavily. "The spire is ours... to demolish, I should think. We'll have to bring in some sappers, and then we'll be done with this whole nasty business."

He claps Zuriel on the shoulder.

"How much you've grown... how much you've learned, in such a short time," he says, looking at the angelic shadows for a moment with a sad smile etched across his features. "I'm proud of you, son. You mother would be, too."

The knight-captain puts a hand on Lyriel's shoulder, as well.

"Proud of both of you. This is what it means to be a champion of the light... defeating true evil, even if no one will ever see it or know about it. It's not about serving the pettiness of our own ego. A lesson the Grand Marshall could stand to learn."

"Tower's secure, sir," Lt. Faye says, saluting perfectly. "Shall we rejoin the van?"

"You go on ahead," Edrahil replies, returning the salute to dismiss the officer. "Lead a team to comb every nook and cranny of this place. I don't want to destroy it with its secrets left intact."

"Aye, sir," Faye says, heading down the staircase to carry out his orders. Edrahil watches her go for perhaps a second longer than is entirely appropriate, then turns back to Zuriel and Lyriel.

"Now then," he says, the smile running away from his face. "Why are you here? HOW are you here? Your work is more pressing than mine, if the bard is to be believed. And you are alone -- why? Have your allies fallen?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:27, Wed 30 July 2014.

In reply to DM (msg # 37):

Not demons.... Keef notes as he assesses the situation.  He looks at Maeve, fighting impressively but nevertheless peppered by bolts of angry magical energy.

Fire shall protect mine own!

Keef waves his hands and gestures quickly.  Directly in front of Maeve a roaring wall of flames bursts into existence.  However, the Eastern warrior does not feel heat radiating from it.

The wall, as it appears on top of Stevens and Jenkins, damages the mages severely (18 damage, 16 damage)

It then radiates waves of heat south toward the rest of P.A.R.T.Y.s enemies.  [OOC:  can't tell who is more than 10 feet so I'm not sure who's in d4 damage range and who is in 2d4].

I'll hold them there until you're ready... Keef looks over his shoulder, and Boreas must be on his way.

Zuriel walks over to Lyriel, gently helping her to her feet and worriedly examining her burns. [Private to DM; Lyriel Vesper: Zuriel helps support Lyriel, keeping an arm around her waist, though it is not strictly necessary or proper.]

He flushes with pride at his father's praise, and barely manages to keep from grinning like a buffoon.

Mother...

His smile fades as the discussion turns more serious. "We're here with our friends, attempting to get to the bottom of the OSA. There is much we suspect, but have little evidence. We had hoped to find out for sure what they were up to. When we saw the decisive charge, the mages here abandoned the tower, and I knew we had to help. Our companions are continuing the ruse in the tunnels."

Upon seeing his father's worried expression, he hurries to continue. "Boreas and the others won't hurt the paladins, of course, if they manage to catch up to them. But I didn't have time to explain in front of your whole army. They'll be discreet. If there is value in continuing the ruse, they'll manage it. If not, I have no doubt they'll be returning here to the tower shortly."

He looks around the ruined room. "Until then, father, we have much to discuss. Perhaps there is a smaller chamber where we can talk discreetly. Hopefully one with chairs?"

In reply to Keef (msg # 41):

Tunnels

The searing heat blisters Reginald's skin, shattering what's left of the steward's bravado.

"And best of luck to you all," he says.

Without further ado, he tightens his grip on the bag of research materials and plows through the portal, vanishing.

Maeve is unable to see anything through the licking flames, though she's free to attack at the places she remembers folks being, if she wants.

Lyriel leans gratefully on Zuriel, exhausted from her wounds, the poison, and her massive expenditure of divine energy.

[Sacred Boosted Cure Moderate Wounds (Hold Person): 31]

She absently clears away the last of her wounds, though the poison remains, sapping her strength. She smiles shyly at the Knight-Captain's praise, though distracted by the blade hovering before her. She examines the familiar markings, and the distinct exotic tapering curvature of the blade.

How can it be? I thought it had been lost but, there's no doubt...

Her vision blurs, having nothing to do with the poisonous fumes from earlier.

Eldric... she whispers.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:57, Wed 30 July 2014.

The wall of flame causes sweat to trickle down Maeve's brow and makes it difficult for her to see her foes.  Yet her aim is still true.

Jenkins:
[Miss % (even is good): 4]
[Attack (FPA -3): 31]
[Damage: 26]

Jenkins dispatched, she turns her attention back to Tuskrot.

Tuskrot:
[Miss % (even is good): 18]
[Attack (FPA -3): 31]
[Damage: 25]

"Когда вы дойдете до ада Tuskrot - не то, что вы будете иметь большой путь - сказать им битва теленка послал вас."
[Private to DM: When you get to hell Tuskrot--not that you'll have a long way to travel--tell them the battle calf sent you.]

Then she five-foots away from the wall of flame (D6).
This message was last edited by the player at 15:10, Wed 30 July 2014.

Boreas dashes into the room (C6) and his gem crackles with energy.

[Ready Action: Attack any visible foe who takes aggressive action]

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 46):

The Tunnels

Tuskrot picks himself up, shielded from provoking the angry Gaelian by the wall of blistering flames. They sear his fur, but it's less painful than the guisarme had been.

"Я не понимал, что восток уже в союзе с эльфами."

[Private to Maeve Hassan: "I didn't realize the east had allied with the elves."]

He calls out, shouldering his axe.

"Но не волнуйтесь, военный корову. Мы встретимся снова, чтобы закончить."

[Private to Maeve Hassan: "But don't worry, war cow. We'll meet again to finish this."]

With that, he darts into the portal. Drake follows close behind, even as Stevens succumbs to his burns. In the time it takes the wall of fire to be dismissed or flicker out, the portal has closed -- leaving the P.A.R.T.Y. quite alone.

~~ End Combat ~~

The flapping of leathery wings heralds the arrival of something new, and the imp you've dealt with several times before hurtles into the room haphazardly. He looks quite out of breath, is covered in a greenish sheen (and a magical aura consistent with Dimensional Anchor), and glances over his shoulder nervously.

"Paladins!" he shouts, annoyed. "Paladins and clerics and other filth in the tunnels! Help me evade them, mortals, and I'll make it worth your while."
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:26, Wed 30 July 2014.

Maeve watches thoughtfully as her foes dart through the portal.

Until then, Tuskrot.  I look forward to it.

"Bad news.  I think it's safe to say that the jig is up," Maeve says to Boreas and Keef, in an attempt to explain why they found her slicing their charges to death.  "I don't know how our cover was blown, but it would seem that Darris now wants us dead.  Best let Baldwin know immediately, assuming he hasn't already been apprehended."

At that moment the silence of the tunnel is broken by a truly obnoxious voice as the imp pleads for aid.

"Begone imp," Maeve says wearily waving the creature onward down the tunnel.  "I can assure you that the paladins and clerics will be considerably more interested in us than in you.  If you get going now, you should have a decent start.  But: in exchange for this small favor, I will expect you to provide some information for us once the situation has become less delicate.  Do we have an agreement?"

Boreas ignores the imp, extinguishing the bodies of the fallen mages and searching them before the paladins arrive.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 49):

"Begone where, exactly?" the imp berates in Maeve's direction. "Into one of these three sturdy walls?! Or back into the tunnels, where the paladins are coming from?! If you want me to do a favor, you'll need to hide me until they're gone. Can you manage that? I see bags and backpacks aplenty, and I'm pretty small. Let me hide in one without being discovered, and you'll be glad you did. I give my word as a devil."

Boreas, ignoring the imp to loot the bodies, locates the following:


This message was last edited by the GM at 04:23, Thu 31 July 2014.

"Fine!  Here we are then." Maeve finds an empty, nondescript leather satchel and helps stow the imp in it.  If she is perhaps a bit less gentle than she could have been while stuffing the imp in the bag, she feels no guilt over it.  She places the satchel at the edge of the chamber.  "There.  If you stay quiet,  you should be fine." 

Grumbling to herself, Maeve sits against a stalagmite and tries to make herself as comfortable as one with a number of magical welts can possibly be as they wait for the Flame to arrive.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:41, Wed 30 July 2014.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 51):

The Spire

"I wish we had time," the knight-captain says with a sigh. "But I have an army to command and a spire to demolish. Perhaps this evening, once we set up camp. You are remaining with the army, are you not?"

In reply to Edrahil Silendril (msg # 52):

The Tunnels

Not ten minutes later, about a dozen paladins march into the room. They glance at the carnage impassively, then turn toward Boreas, Maeve, and Keef.

"Who are you, what happened here, and what are your allegiances?"

Zuriel's eyes widen with surprised recognition as he examines the weapon floating by Lyriel more closely.

"That's...Eldric's blade!" he breathes. "No...more like a...spiritual manifestation of it. I don't think they ever...recovered the actual weapon. I..."

He looks up at Lyriel in wonder. "It would appear your brother is still looking out for you..." he says hoarsely, past the lump in his throat.

Zuriel reaches out involuntarily towards the blade, which draws back to hover just out of reach before executing a flourish and dissolving into emerald mist.

Thank you, my friend...

He shakes his head sharply, turning back to regard his father. "I don't...I wish we could but I don't think we can stay for any length of time. We must uncover what we can of the OSAs plans here, and reconnect with our companions. With war on the horizon, I don't think we have much time."

Zuriel looks his father in the eyes, amber gaze meeting icy blue. "It's worse than we feared, Father. Drynn intends to capitalize on Harlindon's obsession with Lo'driel, and strike while the Empire is disorganized and unprepared. That fool is going to jeopardize the safety of the Empire itself for the sake of his silly posturing. That's...part of what we needed to discuss with you. This evening perhaps. We'll need to stay at least that long, I think, to replenish our spells."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 04:31, Thu 31 July 2014.

Lyriel blinks back tears from her eyes as her brother's spectral blade shimmers and vanishes into the Aether.

Jarred back to reality by necessity, she nods to Zuriel in agreement. Yes, I'll need at least that long to organize the priests and priestesses for the rituals to speak with the OSA's dead we've recovered. She smiles thinly. I'm sure we'll be able to find time to fill you in on our adventures this evening.

Her smile fades as she looks around the room and down the stairwell, ensuring they aren't overheard. She drops her voice, turning to Edrahil and speaking in urgent tones. Captain, if I had any say in the matter, Zuriel wouldn't be here in the first place, but he refused to let us handle this without him, she says, shooting the younger Silendril and inscrutable look. He...reacts...to the presence of Infernals. There's no way we can possibly hide who - what - he is while he's here. Not for long, anyway. Every day he's here, he'll be at increased risk. Eventually, they *will* find him, and they'll...

Lyriel breaks off, swallowing dryly. Her green eyes flash defiantly. I *won't* let that happen. If Zuriel doesn't have the sense to spend no more time in the Hells than absolutely necessary, I'll...I'll Dismiss him myself if I have to.

The priestess tilts her chin up and crosses her arms, daring either Silendril to press the issue.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:51, Thu 31 July 2014.

Boreas, having stuffed the loot in his Bag of Holding minutes earlier (for later equitable distribution), responds to the Flamesmen.

We're friends of Zuriel Silendril and Lyriel Vesper, who you may remember from the tower.  We had a bit of a run-in with these mages in the tunnels.  Managed to take down a few before the others escaped through some kind of portal.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 56):

Keef looks from the paladins to his companions.  There is a question on his face but he clearly doesn't find an answer.

We're.... good guys?  And cabin boys... maybe?

In reply to Keef (msg # 57):

The Tunnels

"There are a lot of 'friends' down here, none of them legitimate," the speaker of the paladins says. "Orders are to arrest everyone we found and bring 'em up for questioning. Already got your friend back at the spiked slab. Come along quietly, or we'll be forced to use... well... force."

Provided everyone cooperates, the paladins escort the group (including the corpses and the unwitting imp) back to the shed, where two other paladins are standing over the chained form of Les. He's been beaten bloody, but he's still alive. His eyes widen as Maeve, Boreas, and Keef are brought up next to him.

"Did... did Drake...?" he whispers, unable to finish the question before a paladin backhands him with a gauntlet of molded steel.

"Do not speak, mage," the paladin commands. "Or you will wish you hadn't."

In silence, the group makes its way toward the back entrance of the spire. Now that is is thoroughly surrounded by the Flame, it looks for all the world like a Crusader outpost set in the center of Hell itself.

The Spire

"I share your concern," Edrahil says in response to Lryiel's entreaty. "And am touched by the depth of it. But we have been quite successful thus far in not losing many men. I certainly don't intend to add my son to the short list of the honorably fallen."

They begin their slow sojourn down the stairs, pausing when Lt. Faye comes puffing back up them, nearly bowling them over.

"Sir!" she says, saluting. "We found something."

The "something" Faye found is on the fifth landing, which was a pantry, larder, kitchen, and dining space. One of the main tables has had its tabletop cast aside, revealing a flat plane of utter darkness beneath it. The table isn't wood, but stone, and lacking the tabletop, it is unmistakably another Vorite well.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:19, Thu 31 July 2014.

"Is this how the Flame would treat wounded soldiers and prisoners, not to mention a child?" Maeve says with some indignation as the paladin backhands Les, gesturing at herself, Les, and Keef respectively. "I had thought better of you."

Oh, I'm quite sure they wouldn't kill Zuriel. At least, not at first... she thinks darkly, but keeps her silence as Faye arrives.

Running her hand across the tabletop, Lyriel walks over to the well. We've encountered these before. They're used by devotees of Vora. If there's one here... she looks up at Zuriel, concerned. Come to think of it, some of the phrases Brooks and the Commander used were quite...Vora-esque. If Vora has her claws in the OSA, then their stated objective of trying to prevent planar collapse is almost certainly a ruse. Could be they're trying to accelerate it along! Or at least, this group was...

She turns to regard Edrahil. This is a portable hole of some kind. A rift in reality. I *think* it's safe to attempt to pull items out of, but I can't know for sure. If any of the other priests or priestesses here are particularly magically inclined, I would say this bears further study. Hopefully, the bodies of the fallen will provide answers as well.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:56, Thu 31 July 2014.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 60):

Outside the Spire

"We're in hell," the paladin snaps at Maeve, unrepentant. "Nothing here is how it seems. Don't you dare judge me -- only the Goddess has that right."

Inside the Spire

"Vora?" Faye says, furrowing her brow. "But why go through all the trouble? Doesn't she... live here, somewhere? In some sense?"

Edrahil merely scowls at the hole.

"If this thing contains objects of value to that disgusting cult, we should do all we can to relieve it of them. Faye, take Lyriel downstairs to marshall a few of the stronger clerics. I want this mess sorted out."

"Aye, sir," Faye says. "Also, the vanguard has returned with prisoners. Thought you'd want to see them for yourself."

Edrahil grins for the first time since entering the spire.

"Goddess be praised," he says, beckoning for Zuriel to follow him. "Come along. Let's see if we can't find some answers from the living, for a change."

In reply to DM (msg # 61):

Lyriel, Faye, Edrahil, and Zuriel exit the tower as one, and can't help but see the prisoners (and corpses) waiting patiently just outside.

In reply to DM (msg # 62):

Faye tugs on Lyriel's sleeve, leading her toward the clerics, as Edrahil and Zuriel approach the prisoners.

"At ease," Edrahil says to the paladin who had commanded the tunnel group. "What do we have here?"

"One of the mages, sir, and a team of mercenaries he claims was here to extract him. Some actually did get away, I fear, but we collected this lot, at least."

"No matter," the knight-captain says. "Even a single prisoner is more than we were able to secure. You may return to your normal duties. We're setting up camp here for the night, with the Spire as the command tent."

"Aye, sir," the paladin salutes and departs, leaving Boreas, Maeve, Keef, Les, and the bodies of Jenkins and Stevens along with Zuriel and Edrahil.

The armored man crosses his arms over his chest.

"My name is Knight-Captain Edrahil Silendril. I command one third of the Flame's military might, at the present, and I am not a patient man," he begins. "I'm telling you this for your own good. Tell me who you are, why you're here, and what value I might place on your continued upkeep. Lacking a convenient court system at the moment, I have no problem performing the duties of judge, jury, and executioner if your crimes warrant it... which means it's in your best interest to convince me that you're of more use alive than justly dead."

He shifts his stance slightly and makes a sweeping gesture to the group.

"Well? Begin."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:18, Thu 31 July 2014.

Zuriel crosses his arms, betraying nothing other than exchanging a meaningful look with his father.

If it's time to come clean, they'll address me first.

Despite his stern words, Maeve feels immediately at ease in Edrahil Silendril's presence.  His brusque military ways are familiar and reassuring.  She does however wish that she was a bit more presentable when meeting the famed commander.

"Fancy seeing you two here," she says to Zuriel and Lyriel. "Hello again, Faye."

"Knight-Captain Edrahil, my name is Maeve Hassan, of the Gaelian 5th Mounted.  It is a great honor to finally meet you, sir.  Your son has been my brother-in-arms for some time now, and he has spoken of you fondly at some length.  But then he speaks of most things at some length."

[OOC: any of the small army of healbots running around want to patch me up 45 hp?  Not to mention the stupid amounts of con damage everyone else has?]
This message was last edited by the player at 14:29, Thu 31 July 2014.

Zuriel grins at Maeve's jibe, relieved to be able to drop the act completely. He notes the surprised look from Edrahil. "Yes, that Hassan. Based on her own prowess, I should say the reports of her father are not at all overrated."

He gestures in turn to Boreas and Keef. "This is Boreas. Woodsman, and arcane...specialist. And this is Keef. Cabin boy, lion tamer, and mage of no small power."

The paladin gestures dismissively to Les. "He's one of them though."

Lyriel follows Faye, curious to meet her counterparts in the priesthood who decided to follow the Knight-Captain. Conscious of the state of her robes, she takes the relative calm to refine her glamor, smoothing out the folds of her priestess' battle robes.

She also takes the opportunity to make a few minor creative improvements to the overall cut of the garment, improving the fall of the cloth and trimming up the lines to be just a tad more flattering. Within reason of course.

She sighs. Would it kill the Church to actually consult with somebody with a whit of fashion sense before making decisions on our attire?

Boreas nods, as one might expect.  A pleasure, Knight-Captain, though I, too wish our meeting were under better circumstances.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 68):

"Ah, Baldwin's infamous P.A.R.T.Y.," Edrahil says directly. "I'm glad to see that your travels have taken you to a place that's typically the source of all the world's problems. We shall have to catch up this evening."

He motions to a nearby squire.

"These three, in addition to my son and Lady Vesper's daughter, are to be admitted to my table tonight. No others. See to it."

The squire rushes off, joining a train of others engaged in transforming the entire peninsula into something organized, comfortable, functional, and -- above all -- defensible.

"And what of you, mage? What were you doing here, and what would you say you've learned?"

In reply to Edrahil Silendril (msg # 69):

Les swallows audibly, then gets a stubborn look in his eyes.

"Nothing that would interest the Flame. Kill me if you must. The die is cast."

Edrahil shrugs and draws a sword, but before he can advance, the mage squeaks out: "Wait!"

The knight-captain obliges him, and then the mage begins to spew out information. The pertinent points:

- OSA's spires are able to gauge the relative "strength" of a plane relative to the others
- OSA is not entirely made up of Vorites
- Mah'mout has rendered at least four other spires "indestructible"
- The strength of the Hells is by far the highest of any plane measured thus far
- The Heavens have not yet been measured
- The world is ending soon. In this lifetime. If you believe a Vorite, that is.

If you have other questions, ask them now. And Lyriel, what questions do you have for the corpses?

Zuriel looks at Les sharply. "Vora's goals are entirely at odds with the stated objectives of the OSA. What of Darris and Ptolmy? Are the devotees of Vora? What do they hope to gain from all this?"

In reply to Edrahil Silendril (msg # 69):

So the towers are... planar aetho-thermometers?  With aether congruity as the denominator?  Fascinating...

Lyriel listens to Les, composing a list of questions to ask of the living and the dead.

Questions:

-What research was being conducted here?
-How was the tower constructed without interference from Infernals?
-How much of the OSA serves Vora?
-Where are the towers in Fey'driel and the Heavens?
-What does Vora hope to gain from infiltrating the OSA?
-Do the towers have any ability to redirect planar energy?
-What can destroy them once Mah'mout's shielded them?
-How do the Vorite wells work?

I could say the same to you, Captain.  As for the towers, it sounds like they serve a real, useful purpose... in the right hands.  At the moment, they appear to be firmly in the wrong ones, however.  This mage says the whole organization isn't corrupt, and I believe it.  If we can turn the others to our cause, more's the better.

For fear of confiscation, Boreas keeps the loot in his satchel and refrains from mentioning it until the PARTY is alone.

Lyriel's laundry list of questions pretty much covers it, so Maeve does not contribute any of her own.

She *does* however inform Lyriel and Zuriel of the fight in the tunnels, especially the rather important points of Tuskrot's still being alive and the P.A.R.T.Y's cover with OSA being blown.

She also continues to look rather woebegone.

[OOC - Not sure where Lyriel is right now. I think she's gone to meet the clerics? When she gets back though, she'll drop a Sacred Boosted Cure Critical Wounds on Maeve.]

[Maximized Cure Critical Wounds: 51]
This message was last edited by the player at 17:52, Thu 31 July 2014.

Zuriel frowns at Maeve's narrative. "Brooks must have gotten a message off to Darris...damnation."

He sighs in frustration, running a hand through his hair. "No matter. We knew that was a risk. Though there's nothing linking us to Baldwin, I think it may be in his best interests to relocate somewhere beyond Darris' reach."

Zuriel turns to Boreas, conscious of the eyes of the other paladins on him. "Could you get a message to Baldwin? Advise him that he may want to consider seeking refuge with our...southern friends," he says quietly. "We can message ahead for him."

"I suppose it must have been Brooks.  At least, I hope so," Maeve says upon hearing of the tussle in the spire.  "One of the only other alternatives I can think of is that Baldwin himself is somehow responsible.  And while he's more nonchalant about this undertaking than I'd care for, surely even *he* wouldn't be that careless."

"For what it's worth, my presence here has led Tuskrot--and now we can safely assume Darris as well--to assume that the East is allied with the highborn. I can't say what, if any, ramifications that will have."

"That could be...problematic," Zuriel replies, furrowing his eyebrows, "But I doubt Darris will leap to any conclusions without proof. At the least, I don't think it will sour the relationship between the OSA and the Sultanate any further; he did mention having issues with the Ghosts..."

Boreas nods to Zuriel, then concentrates for a moment, sending to Baldwin through the hat.

Cover is blown with OSA.  Don't think they know about you.  Go South, somewhere safe.  Will message for you.  Is cloud ink still secure?

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 80):

The P.A.R.T.Y. puts Les (and, later, various corpses) to the question, yielding additional answers.

- Darris gives the orders when it comes to Vorite stuff
- Ptolemy's religious affiliation is unknown
- the towers are, in fact "planar aetho-thermometers with aether congruity as the denominator"; Les is impressed with this insight
- Research involved how the spires worked and why the Hells were so "strong"
- Towers were constructed "very quickly" and "with significant violence" in areas where resistance was encountered, such as the Hells. In others, OSA's Order connections helped them build in peace.
- It's unknown how much of OSA as a % serves Vora, but it seems like a significant chunk is at least aware of it being part of the organization.
- Those questioned do not know the exact location of either specified tower
- Vora doesn't gain anything from infiltrating OSA; it's just part of the way the world ends, and thus it has come to pass
- The towers have a "balancing" mechanism in theory, but it is unfinished and untested
- None of those questioned believe a spire empowered by Mah'mout's spell can be destroyed by anything other than a god or Mah'mout himself
- The Vorite wells are a series of portable holes that lead to a common location, like a "cloud ink" for possessions. They are used to quickly equip remote operations with whatever they need without actually transporting anything.

Did I miss anything?

***

Baldwin's handwriting answers Boreas rather quickly: "Cloud ink is uncompromised, as far as I know. I will take your suggestion under advisement. Take care!"

***

Once the questions are complete, the P.A.R.T.Y. meets for dinner in one of the spire's reclaimed rooms, alone except for the knight-captain -- though Faye stands just outside the door, likely not out of earshot.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:27, Thu 31 July 2014.

Zuriel takes a seat next to his father, still somewhat numb at the surreality of the experience of being back with the Flame. He turns his attention to the food before them. Wholesome and filling, if not particularly exciting, the assorted breads, meats, and cheeses had the look of magically conjured fare; spells cast with a mind toward producing as much for as many as possible.

Still, he found he was famished, and the good-but-generic taste did not in any way stop him from taking seconds. After a brief round of small talk, Zuriel launches into a necessarily abbreviated tale of the PARTY's adventures to date. The only thing of particular note he leaves out is Wildheart, an omission that is no doubt picked up on by Boreas, Maeve, and Lyriel, if not Keef.

"Based on what we've heard, it seems there are several organization across the Realms aware of this planar instability. Each is attempting to mitigate it in their own way - except for Vora, of course, which believes collapse inevitable and is working to bring about that end. According to them, however, we're all making such a grand mess of things that collapse is inevitable even without assistance. The biggest question is: what is causing the instability in the first place? This is the second time we've heard reference to an unusual upwelling of power in the Hells. It's possible that whatever is causing this mess has it's origin down here. It wouldn't surprise me. But you would think such a massive power source would be visible..."

Zuriel trails off, looking to his Father. "That's what we're trying to discover. If Darris is a Vorite, then any of OSAs actions are suspect. Baldwin is attempting to chart planar distortion by the relative expression of faith energy as measured via holy symbols. We've one left to recover - Leloth'riel's. That's the next step in our quest. By coming here we've confirmed that Vora is at least partially behind the OSA, while  doubtlessly securing Darris' enmity. We know more now than we did but...it's still not enough to know how to *fix* anything...or what's causing the disturbance to begin with."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:44, Thu 31 July 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 82):

"The bard's purportedly a rather sharp fellow or a drunken sot, depending on who you ask," Edrahil says, chewing thoughtfully for a moment on a hunk of bread. "An interesting combination. But the question I have is more immediate: What do you learn by having the feyic symbol that you wouldn't know without it? Isn't it possible that the evil symbols are enough to unravel this mess? It may just be a matter of time for him to sort it all out... but can he do that if he's fleeing this Darris fellow's wrath?"

"Rest assured, if there's an infernal power source down here, I'll find it," he continues. "And when I do..."

He tears a chunk of bread from the bread and chews forcefully, then swallows and continues.

"I'll destroy it."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:48, Thu 31 July 2014.

Lyriel, who seated herself (predictably) next to Zuriel, clears her throat. Perhaps, if Darris is a Vorite it's all the more reason for him to flee. If Darris suspected Baldwin of closing in on any actual useful truth, I expect he'd take more direct measures to intervene.  As for the Feyic symbol...I don't know. We can't know for sure, but we risk missing a key piece of the puzzle if we don't examine Fey'driel's role in all this. I personally believe the wisest - and safest - course of action is for Baldwin to relocate beyond Darris' reach and complete his research while we find the final symbol. And since my mother has so helpfully - here Lyriel glares off into space as if affixing her mother with her ire - ensured that he is not welcome in the Empire, the only place for him to go is to Lo'driel, and Choso's protection.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:02, Thu 31 July 2014.

"With Baldwin it's hard to tell, though I'm inclined to lean toward "drunken sot." I can only hope that his lackadaisical attitude doesn't endanger his two associates, who happen to be our friends and former charges," Maeve says, helping herself to copious quantities of food.

"Concerning Fey'driel, I'm admittedly inclined to agree with you.  I don't know what this last symbol would provide that all the others haven't been able to.  That said, we do have other reasons for traveling there.  Boreas, for one.  His "arcane specialties," as Zuriel puts it, seem to be linked to a feyic power source, so far as we can tell."

Maeve declines to mention Wildheart as the second reason.

That's a matter to be shared among family in private.

Zuriel stares down at his plate. "But as horrifying as the end of existence in the ambiguously near future is, it may not be our most pressing concern."

He quickly updates his father on the geo-political situation, and how Choso predicts the coming conflict will play out. Without a handy map and set of chess pieces, it's not as dramatically illustrated as Choso's presentation, but it gets the job done. "Harlindon...could cost us the entire Empire."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 86):

Keef shovels food with his usual gusto.  He does his best to pay attention to the political talk, but is frequently interrupting his own concentration to talk magic and, from what you can gather, the nature of the spires with Longshank.

Boreas looks up from the notebook.  The impending war is a problem, to be sure.  And Fey'driel warrants a visit, for the reasons Maeve mentioned.  Baldwin is fine, by the way, and will take our advice under consideration.

Zuriel nods. "Did we tell him specifically that Darris was a Vorite? That certainly explains the antagonism he's shown the bard..."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 89):

"The tyrant's predictions are intriuging, especially the numbers -- which aren't off by much," the knight-captain says, looking at the chess pieces thoughtfully. "But even Harlindon isn't blind enough to march on the Empire's forces. What makes him so convinced that will happen? The Empress will forbid it, and that will be that."

"Choso is convinced of Harlindon's arrogance and short-sightedness. He believes the Grand Marshal will attempt to take Lo'driel in a fast military action, and then cede it to the Empress in reparation for breaking her decree. Harlindon likely thinks that if he moves quickly enough, the Flame can take Lo'driel unsupported before the Empire can mobilize to intervene."

Zuriel pauses, taking a sip of his wine. "Do recall, the Empress *has* forbade it. Yet Harlindon still calls his bannermen nonetheless. I've seen the encampments myself. He clearly thinks himself above the will of the Empress."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:26, Fri 01 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 91):

"Mph," Edrahil grunts, taking a moment to enjoy his glass of lukewarm mineral water before responding further. "It's a show of force, caused in part by my efforts here. The Grand Marshall needs to prove to the world -- and to himself, perhaps -- that he still wields power in the hearts and minds of his people. I seriously doubt he would stoop to marching on Lo'driel in force, in full view of the public."

He swirls his glass thoughtfully.

"I almost wish he would, as it would make the task of unseating him easier."

Silence reigns for a few minutes, interrupted only by the scraping of cutlery and the sound of chewing.

"If he were to attempt such a thing, then it would be in the best interests of both Goddess and country to intervene," he says at last. "But there is not convenient or expedient route home, and I have no desire to backtrack to the Krall gateway... it closed behind us anyway."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:48, Sat 02 Aug 2014.

Zuriel nods. That went...better than I expected.

"That's something I can perhaps investigate with the book. Rifts are unstable and unpredictable. You'd need a portal, but it would almost certainly be guarded. Either one to Aeyris Prime or the Heavens would work..."

Zuriel trails off, noting the look of sudden keen interest from his father.

Liora might have some ideas.

The rest of the conversation passes in pleasant chatter, as the PARTY regales the Knight-Captain with lighter stories of some of the more humorous episodes of their adventures. Zuriel smiles warmly, clearly enjoying the company of friends and being reunited with his father.

[OOC done with dinner on my end :-) ]
This message was last edited by the player at 13:14, Sat 02 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 93):

When it gets to it, Keef does his best to interpret the stories of their past heroics from the standpoint of a bear, chimera or dragon... not always in the sequence in which he actually was one.

Lyriel laughs brightly at the PARTY's assorted antics and tales. As dinner winds to a close, eventually Maeve, Boreas, and a still-chattering Keef file out. Towards the end of the meal Zuriel was (highly uncharacteristically) silent, and in looking at him it didn't take a genius to see he was dying to speak with his father.

The priestess rises lightly. I'll let you two gentlement catch up, she says, shooting a sympathetic look at Zuriel.

[Private to DM; Edrahil Silendril; Zuriel Silendril: Before she leaves, Lyriel gives Zuriel a comforting concerned squeeze on the shoulder and then, in a sudden reckless moment, a quick kiss on the cheek. Blushing furiously at her unexpected daring, she leaves the room quickly, gesturing to Faye to maybe give them a bit of privacy.]

Gods know this particular conversation is well overdue...
This message was last edited by the player at 13:37, Sat 02 Aug 2014.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 95):

The rest of the night passes without incident, though anyone keeping watch would notice that Zuriel and Edrahil talk long into the early hours. Such a person would then observe Faye enter the room after Zuriel's departure, where further conversations of importance doubtless occurred between the lieutenant and the knight-captain, for neither emerge until morning.

Dawn brings with it another meal, and another demonic assault. This one seemed half-hearted at best, for none of the attackers seemed to expect the spire to be properly garrisoned by a professional fighting force.

"If this spire truly is indestructible," Edrahil is saying, speaking through a mouthful of scrambled eggs to the P.A.R.T.Y. members once again dining with him. "Then you couldn't ask for a better toehold into the Hells. I don't trust those tunnels you used, though. It would be better to have a portal or teleportation circle here in the tower itself, and treat the shed as the weak point it is and demolish it."

He spears a sausage from the platter with his knife and brings it to his plate.

"Not that I know the first thing about creating portals and the like. How do you intend to get back, anyway, now that OSA is disinclined to operate those runic walls for you?"

"I would tend to agree," Zuriel says, helping himself to a rather large plate of ham and poached eggs. "If the teleportation runes cannot be used to our own advantage, then the whole tunnel network is weak point. It provides access to not only the OSA, but also leads to a chasm from which the Infernals can issue an assault."

"It would be best, I think, to decommission the runes, if possible. And collapse as much of the tunnel network as we can. You'll simply have to find another way out of the Hells."

We planed to simply Plane Shift out. Imprecise, but feasible for a small group. I don't think it would work for any army with equipment and horses though. You'd scatter your army even if you were able to retreat all at once.

Lyriel considers the predicament. You'll have to use a true portal. Either set one up yourself, or find a functional one. If you're able to fight back to the Krall portal, we could open it from the Aeyris side.

I wonder if the Marquise de Pellanore would have any ideas...

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 98):

The knight-captain nods.

"We'll figure something out. How long are you remaining with us?"

Zuriel exchanges looks with the PARTY.

"Unfortunately, I don't think we can stay much longer. We don't know when Harlindon will make his move. Or when Saul will make his. We need our pieces to be in place beforehand."

He looks around at the others. "I know Lyriel was going to help with questioning the dead. After that's been accomplished, and after we're certain that we've uncovered all that remains to be found here...we must move on. Perhaps this evening. There's no time to lose."

The look Zuriel gives his father makes it clear that the young paladin wished he could stay.

[OOC - last night in-game we would have asked Keef to prepare two Teleport spells.]
This message was last edited by the player at 03:13, Mon 04 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 100):

The knight-captain nods.

"Then may the Goddess light your path. Let's see what the dead have to see, and then we'll see you off properly."

He claps Zuriel on the shoulder.

"I'm sure we'll be in touch, but... let me know if you do happen upon someone who can teleport an army rather easily, won't you?"

"I think we actually may," Zuriel says with a grin. He and Lyriel had discussed the possibility the previous night. "The Marquise de Pellanore has little love for the OSA. And we know of at least one linked portal she has created. Her magic is formidable, and may be the answer. We will look into the problem at once, you have my word."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 102):

I'll be the Marquis would know how to get everyone out quickly... Keef notes between shovelfuls of food.

In reply to Keef (msg # 103):

OOC: The answers to the questions Lyriel wanted to ask of the dead were incorporated into the bulleted list of responses I already gave you.

When breakfast has ended, Edrahil bids the group a fond farewell -- particularly to his son and to Lyriel.

"One last thing before you go," Edrahil says, motioning for Faye to come forward. The lieutenant is carrying a bundle wrapped in a blanket, which she lays at the P.A.R.T.Y.'s collective feet. She opens the bundle to reveal a collection of weapons and equipment.

"This gear was recovered during our travels in the Hells, Edrahil goes on. "We're certain that none of it is cursed, but we have no use for these items. Our standard kit is typically enough, and we have clerics to spare for similar enhancements anyway. Please, take them with you. Perhaps they can aid you on your quest."



With that, the P.A.R.T.Y. turns to Lyriel and Keef, and the pair begin the process of weaving their magics around the group to carry them toward their next adventure.

Ding!  Boreas, Lyriel, Maeve, Keef, and Zuriel have reached Level 11!  Please update your sheets accordingly.

~~ End Chapter 10 ~~
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:01, Mon 04 Aug 2014.