Lars finishes lashing a handful of rods together, if anything a sailor can do knots quickly. Gathering the few in his hand he walks to the opposite side of the contraption and looks at those assembled. "Think we should drop a bunch of these rods at the same time, see if we can get them demons to spend on each other?" Looking at the rope that Rael had made. "Angrboda, what do you think would happen if we moved one of them points on the ground out of alignment and then place the rods so that they all channel into it? I'm guessing that the breaking of the triangle might also break the bond funneling everything into one. Either we break it or get one hell of a pissed off lighting demon."
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:51, Fri 10 July 2015.

Viktor swaps out his trusty axe for a far more elegant weapon of the crossbow. At least a single shot would be easy to get off in those tight confines. Advancing down the hall to the end, it turns a corner and begins to ascend up a tight stairwell. The stairwell is interrupted by a short landing with a choice of either continuing up the stairwell, or by diverting on to what must be the ground floor. The light begins to fade here as the torches that were placed by Lars does not go any further.

The contraption seems to pulse with a faint blue light, as if it waited for the furthering "attack" on their defenses. Lars and Berta stand on opposing sides ready to drop their makeshift lightning rods into the contraption. Rael carefully ties his own makeshift rope to a small spot around the legs where he is able to get to without actually crossing the line. Accidentally brushing against the brazier a few times you can see that he has not been shocked. Though when he is finished it is plainly evident that the hairs along his arms are standing straight as soldiers.

The man sized orb silently hangs in the air, slowly turning. Swirling patterns cross the surface in an almost hypnotic pattern. The outline of a humanoid thing, in a fetal position, is seen inside the demonic prison. No movement is seen in the form, you can sense that whatever is inside is not conscious of what is transpiring outside those thin spherical walls.

"On the count of three..." Rael tells the other as he wipe his forehead with the end of his sleeve.

"Ready..."

"One..." what am I doing...
"Two..." I am so going to get fried...
Gods above and below have mercy... "Three..."

On the count of three with the others Rael pulls the rope trying to topple his brazier.

Angrboda stands there tensely, hoping she has not just led them all to their deaths with her advice.  She watches as Rael topples his brazier, hoping that it doesn't release the demon as a free entity.  "Although, if we could take these with us or set them up behind us as we retreat they could prove useful." she says thoughtfully.

Looks around a bit and decides not to go any further...starts to walk back towards Khazim and see how the rest of the group is doing...

Lars suggestion is as good as any, so Berta shrugs her acquiescence, getting ready the rods she has prepared and dropping them into position on Rael's count, lips tightening at the "Three", though she does not invoke any help from the Higher Powers.  At least not out loud ...

At the hesitant count of three something miraculous happens. Tensions, as well as electricity, fills the air. Rael Heaves mightily on the makeshift rope in an effort of move the large brazier.

SKREEEEEECH

The brazier moves, slightly out of alignment with the rest of the triangle, though only a few inches. With the loud screaching noise causing a second of hesitation, both Berta and Lars toss their lightning rods into the rest of the contraption with the hopes of disrupting the other focus points. All seems to be going well, lightning races down the makeshift lightning rods dissipating into the ground. Beneath the crackle you are beginning to hear a kind of humming noise, slowly gaining in intensity.

Then everything stops, the lighting, the hum, the air. Everything except the sphere in the middle, still slowly turning. Then you feel it, a pressure like one would expect when visiting Praray's shipyards is felt all around you. The contraption detonates in a great shockwave of noise knocking those gathered around off their feet. Dazed, your ears ring in silence, you can feel a tiny trickle of blood running out of your nose. Dusting yourselves off your are mostly unharmed, dazed, temporarily deaf, but unharmed. The glow of the fretwork fade into nothingness, plunging the room into darkness. The only light comes from the torches lit by Lars near the entrance to the secret passage and a soft purplish glow from the still intact sphere. Still hanging a few feet off the ground, still slowly turning, hypnotic patterns twisting away on it's surface.


Your body screams in alarm. You just know they heard that detonation elsewhere in the castle.

"Well," Angrboa winces as she stands and dusts herself off, "Not the best solution but it did fix that problem.  Now what to do about this?" she says as she approaches the cocoon looking demon.

Rael slowly pick himself from the floor dusting himself and making sure all his limbs and digits are still attached.

"What?" he asks thinking Angrboda said something "Oh... the Tenatir. We need to find some way to break the thing and let the Tenatir out. Do you have any ideas?"

The detonation knocks Lars on his backside causing him to drop the remaining lightning rod. Letting the spare rod fall from his hands he pulls himself up from his undignified position. "Dang, I do not think I've ever woke up after a night of fun in as much pain as I'm in right now." Staggering to his feet he takes a quick look around. "Everyone Ok?"

Realizing that he is barely hearing anything over his own ears ringing he looks to the others also getting up. Taking a second to cough, he flashes everyone a thumbs up.

Hears something loud and grabs a torch and holds it against his crossbow and walks quickly back to the room to make sure everyone is ok...still keeping an eye on the hallway..

Still alive.  Berta lies on the ground for a moment, really wanting to stay where she is for a while ... and then struggles to rise as she really doesn't want to lay about any longer with the realisation that the noise will bring Salrenna ... and Wise Vallyn only knows whoever else can find their way here, blocked passageway not withstanding.

Everyone else seems alright, at least up and moving though the ringing in her ears is drowning out whatever they might be saying.  Attention seems focused on the thrice damnded sphere which seems to have survived the light and thunder without so much as a crack, though it remains to be seen if it can withstand more mundane methods of breaching now that, she hopes, its magical protections have dissipated.

"STAND BACK," the big woman warns, drawing her blade and swinging it two-handed at the sphere ...

[Private to GM: aiming to crack the sphere and hopefully pull up the blade before it might strike the creature within, whatever that involves.  Did a skill check on the longsword anyway ... :>

12:40, Today: Berta rolled 35 using 1d100. Longsword. vs 105 - Success
]

After seeing what Berta is doing...hands fhe torch to Rael and slings back on his crossbow and grabs his mighty axe back in his hands where it belongs...ready for anything and hoping it is time to fight....

Angrboda moves into the path of the huge sword, "What are you doing?" she asks the massive woman, "I do not believe your instructions were to bring two halves of a prisoner back."

Berta barely manages to stop her downward swing.  "WHAT ?" she strains to hear Angrboda as she allows the point of her sword to drop, heart pounding at the nearness of what might well have been a killing blow, able only to guess at the smaller woman's complaint.  "I'M GOING TO CRACK THIS SPHERE OPEN.  GET HIM OUT."

"WE MUST HURRY !"

Angrboda turns back to examine the sphere and pokes at it experimentally with her dagger, "This demon seems to be relatively weak, we should be able to just peel it off of the prisoner." she says as she tries to cut into it without harming the prisoner.

Berta opens her mouth to shout again, but her jaw closes as Angrboda turns her back, and she shrugs questioningly to Viktor.

Shaking her head, trying to regain her hearing, the big woman takes an involuntary pace backwards, bringing her sword to a guard position.  [Private to GM: looks like the mighty sword blow approach is off the table.  :>]

Shrugs back to Berta and laughs a little...winds up his axe just in case the demon is stronger then the seductive Angrboda thinks he is...

Rael shrugs as Viktor hand him the torch. If Berta and Viktor wanted a crack at the demon Rael would not stand in their way. He moved to the side tilting the torch so that it would give them good illumination on the prisoning sphere.

Hey Berta I think Rael wants this one... laughs and spins his axe around a little to get warmed up and ready to cut up whatever might appear...

Stalking about the floating orb, Angrboda prevents the forceful efforts of Berta. She calmly explains what she knows about the spherical demon holding the shadowy individual captive. Drawing a dagger she reaches forward to caress the demons skin.


POP!

The barest hint of the blade poking into it's skin causes it to deflate like a bursting boil on a plague victim. The Demons skin whips back as it shrinks into a tiny membrane ball before being lost in the fog that quickly begins to fill the room again. The gangly figure from inside the sphere drops unceremoniously to the ground hardly making a noise. You catch, in the scant second before your brain begins to scream RUN!, a glimpse of a black skinned figure. The smell of lotus blossoms and musk drift through the air causing a warmth to spread through your body. You find it getting increasing difficult to think straight. Right now the best thing in the world would be to simply lay down on let your weary muscles and bones absorb this delicious warmth about you.

[Private to Khazim; Viktor: You are unaffected by this, while it smells REALLY nice, you are not feeling the effects of the drug.]

16:20, Today: The Grey Lords, on behalf of Viktor, rolled 7 using 1d100. Mist tn 50. - Pass
16:19, Today: The Grey Lords, on behalf of Rael Gol, rolled 63 using 1d100. Mist tn 40. - Fail
16:18, Today: The Grey Lords, on behalf of Lars K'Rusome, rolled 50 using 1d100. Mist tn 35. - Fail
16:18, Today: The Grey Lords, on behalf of Khazim, rolled 6 using 1d100. Mist tn 60. - Pass
16:18, Today: The Grey Lords, on behalf of Berta, rolled 79 using 1d100. Mist tn 55. - Fail
16:17, Today: The Grey Lords, on behalf of Angrboda, rolled 56 using 1d100. Mist tn 40. - Fail

Run we should run Rael thought lazily... but he was so tired and it was so nice and warm here what harm would it be to just take a moment rest to close his heavy eyelids.

Slowly Rael sinks to the ground, some part of him tries to shout that this was wrong but the warmth the pleasure was so alluring there was no fear or pain within the warmth only bliss.

Rael slowly sinks to the floor with a blank expression on his face.

Sensing something is seriously wrong with everyone else...Rael get up you fool...why are you laying there?  sees the flash of black and attempts to swing at it...




17:01, Today: Viktor rolled 4 using 1d100. axe .
17:01, Today: Viktor rolled 9 using 4d6. damage.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:14, Tue 14 July 2015.

"Viktor WAIT!" Khazim, who also seems to be unaffected by the strange mist, launches himself at the giant Pan Tangian. Khazim grabs Viktor's arm on the backswing in a quick battle of strength to hold the swing. "Think you damn rock! It was a Prison!"

19:09, Today: Khazim rolled 1 using 1d100. Wrestle tn 25.
*GM Edit* 19:15, Today: The Grey Lords, on behalf of Khazim, rolled 28 using 1d100. STR vs STR tn 30. - Pass
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:17, Tue 14 July 2015.

Stops his swing as he gets grabbed by Khazim...I suggest you unhand me but I am glad to see you were not harmed like the others...what happened?