"Come back to the shore Sidd!" Omm calls out while extending his left hand to help him ashore, the right still grasping the hilt of his long sword.

Felix orders the skeletal guards into the water.  Once it's clear that Sidd is relatively safe, he says Maybe we can try my idea now?  Any volunteers?

Omm sighs, shrugs his wide shoulders and steps forward. <Blue. I will do it. Let's go boys," he says to his skeletal retainers.

OOC: Assuming makes it back safely.

Ordinarily compliant, the power of the placard further amplifies their obeisance. Yet the bone quartet hesitates...

"It's not like they're a mess of brambles, they're a bleeding cloud of pyromaniacs. We can't very well cut our way through them."

They pause, hoping that some sense of sanity will dampen Felix's ingenuity.

If their protest doesn't, the smoldering remains of Sidd might. The fireflies have charred Sidd right and there (3 hits for 10 dmg), leaving Omm no recourse but to pull his crispy body away from the shore.

Upon this sorry scene, the moon sheds its light, not having quite reached its time of conjunction with the Tower of its namesake.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:39, Tue 13 Jan 2015.

Felix pauses to consider the events of the last fifteen or twenty seconds, which hadn't registered until just now.  After some thought he finally says, with little confidence in his voice, Anyone got a bucket?

Omm grimaces and reaches for his belt pouch. He pulls a small curved wooden implement from the pouch and says, "I have a shoehorn, but no, no bucket." Omm is poor. Dirt poor. Without a pot to piss in. Figuratively and literally. If he ever made it out of this forsaken demi-plane he resolved to change that. Was that too much to ask?

"Any other ideas?"

''Sidd! You stupid muck-raker! Cannot you do anything right?!'' Despite his harsh words Zar seems to be honestly afraid about his collegue. He kneels down in the mud - making sure Sidd has his feet out of the lake - and administers one of the prepared potions to the still smoldering Sidd.

Sidd coughs and moans, coming back to life. Barely.
''Ouch.''

Eventually the four vassals convince you to desist in your foolishness and just pass the time in whatsoever manner you might choose.

This allows the moon to pass before Darjr’s tower, at which time the hundreds of fireflies sink to the water’s surface, outlining a series of 16 steps across the surface of the lake. At the end of the path is a portal, and a stair leading down beneath the lake’s surface.

Clear, crystalline steps descend beneath the water’s surface, to the muddy lake floor below. The air is fouled with the stink of muck and rotting wood. The
stairs descend into a small chamber on the lake floor, lit by the glow of fireflies through the waters above.

A narrow passageway, scarcely 2’ in width, exits the chamber.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:17, Thu 22 Jan 2015.

''Uh. I cannot breath water. And I am certainly not going to try, just because there might be a water-breathing enchantment on the stairs.'' Sidd coughs.

''Aw. You are just grumpy because of the fireflies.''

Zar examines the steps and stairs. If there is indeed a water-breathing enchantment, perhaps his senses as a fledgling magician are able to pick this up...

Impatiently, Felix says Come on, it shouldn't be that hard.  He walks forward into the lake and down the steps, just far enough to put his head beneath the surface (by luck, or perhaps by design, this allows the halfling to stay considerably closer to shore than any of his companions if they tried the same trick).  He stays there for just a few seconds, enough that he can tell if he is breathing or not, and then walks back up to tell the others the result of his experiment.

Omm pushes his way to the front of the party. "Here. Let me lead the way," he spits out grumpily. "This mage, Darjr, better not talk in any riddles when we get there, after all this, or else!" he offers in a threat that he probably can't back up, but doesn't care nonetheless.

Interjecting into Sidd and Zarr's comnversation, "Fireflies. Really Zarr? How about this whole darn business. It's been one bit of skullduggery after another!" He mutters something under his breath and then remembers he is still holding his trusty shoehorn. Perhaps it brought him comfort? Some measure of who he was, where he was from, before being sorted in that village to strike out against the Beast-men.

Now. This.

Shrugging he says, "Oh what the hell, let's get this over with!" With that, he strides forward, through the narrow passageway.

The lake and the chamber at the lake bottom, while in the same place, are not in the same place. As muddy as you would imagine it to be, the lake floor sucks at your boots and toes -- a shoehorn may well soon see its time of need -- as you trudge deeper beneath the surface. Drops of water plink your pauldrons but the crushing depths do not intrude -- held at bay, no doubt, by powerful magics.

Scintillating colors cascade down the liquid walls and ceiling of the domed chamber. The pervasive stink of rot is heaviest here. In the center of the chamber, ankle-deep in the muck of the lake bottom, crouches a young woman. Dressed in veils resembling sheets of falling rain clasped with a belt of silver, she radiates a self-assured majesty. She is drawing lines and shapes in the mud with a narrow twig.

The lady remains crouched and beckons you to enter.

Near her is the calcified form of Arnie who would, you imagine, be quite at home in this haven of nightsoil.

She has her plaques laid out before her, resting atop the mud. She is inscribing sigils and runes around the plaques, and muttering aloud as she plots her next skullduggery. Hers, you recall, was the weakest deal (the Ten of Swords and the Eight of Swords).

Omm approaches the majestic women, remaining at a comfortable distance, and announces their presence, "Good evening Lady. I notice you have some ivory placards. Neat. We have some of those too. Let's say we figure this thing out and come to some sort of agreement?"

He didn't know what that meant, but it sounded like something a smart man might say. Except Omm isn't bright. He is a man of action.

He looks back to his companions, perhaps dubious as to what he just said. He then fiddles with his shoehorn, somewhat nervously.

Zar is skeptical. So far every visit of them by one of the mages proved to be some kind of trap. This one will probably be no different. And in all the muck and dirt the alluring figure of the woman sets quite a contrast. Zar rather suspects some illusion.

Sidd however just gapes at the beautiful woman.

Hearing Omm's introduction, she looks up, effulgent: "Wondrous. I need those and more. Which ones do you have?"

She introduces herself as "Erodiade the Sorceress," adding the "One and Only" with simple charm, but Zar doesn't buy it for a second. There must be many sorceresses hidden in this water recess; he will look out for them!

It is the one before you who continues to speak after finding a plate of provender, edible reeds, dried, and then seasoned with ginger and garlic for you. Crunchy! To drink, she offers each of you glasses of ruby red wine from the part of the chamber set aside as a bar.

"You must have already met my worthy antagonists, that gas bag, the sage, and that gear freak, Darjr."

"With their cards, I could leave his damn plane. It's no place for a lady."

Judging by the feculent stink of it, you'd have to agree.

Felix blurts out So how come you have to stay here?  And then he perks up as another thought collides with the first, and he adds When you say "leave," do you mean this room, or this plane?  And would you take anyone with you when you go?

Zar is still full of distrust. Talking with the other mages was impossible, so talking with this one probably constitutes the trap. He presses his lips shut and does not say a thing.

Sidd has no such inhibitions however.

''Er, mylady, there is so much about this plane and the cards we do not understand. How did you all come here? What about the Fool?''

Omm is content to let Sidd do the talking for the moment. He probably has less of a clue of any his companions about what this place is all about and what their role in it might be and is somewhat relieved to hear his confusion echoed by one of the wiser party members.

The warrior remains vigilant for the slightest hit that the sorceress might become hostile.

Unable to hold his tongue, a character flaw really, Omm interjects, "Hey, what do you know about the Torturer? That swine-face had some cards, but we couldn't pry them out of his sweaty hands. Not that we didn't try!"

Erodiade's all ease and charm as she satisfies your questions while she tucks in a few tubular treats.

"Why -- here as in everywhere here. Back to the real world. Or one of them."

After a draught of wine, she suppresses a scowl before trusting herself to answer Sidd.

"The answer to one question is the answer to another. The pinhead the fool, he brought us all here and you as well. Don't forget that. We're all here for his bloody amusement--it could drive a person mad and already has, just ask the amber king."

"And I can get us all out," the lady beneath the lake whispers.

Felix perks up even more at that.  One, how do we know we can trust you.  And two, how are you going to get us out of here?

Omm looks in Felix's direction and nods in agreement and solidarity, as if to say, "yeah, what he said." Except he doesn't mouth it. He is done talking for the moment. Truth is Omm is inclined to help the sorcerer, though he doesn't know why. Maybe he just likes the way she looks?

Omm is a simple guy after all.

Zar continues to watch the sorceress with distrust. She behaves like a glutton - the odds that she covers an appearance which is appropriate to the setting simply with an illusion is significant. But of course he cannot be sure. Finally he voices a thought though.
''Why should we give any cards to you instead of keeping them to ourselves? I see no reason to favor any one of you three.''

Erodiade, the Red Sorceress, rattles off some answers. They don't seem to have required much thought.

"For one, you can talk to me. You expulsed one into the void and the other's mind disappeared into it long ago. So I'm the only one you can talk to."

"You're welcome to return to the Court of the Amber King," she allows, with a dismissive sweep of her arm.

"And I, the only you can talk to, the only one, you know, who can participate in a discourse, can sit upon the throne."

"I am the arch mage, after all."

OOC With the power of the plaques and a seat upon the throne, she can bend time and space to her will.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:08, Tue 10 Feb 2015.

"Sounds awfully tempting..." Omm whispers to his companions, his eyes remaining on the Red Sorceress the whole time.