Aryk, a few steps behind Rictor, surged forward and used his empty, glowing hand to grab the nearest guard by the head.  Everything beneath his hand; helmet, flesh, bone disappeared suddenly & cleanly, as if they had never been there, leaving the partially decapitated man to fall to the ground.

An unfortunate turn of events, but not an unexpected one. Rictor loosed at the lead watcher, and sent an arrow thundering into his eye. He collapsed and in the tumble the man behind him hesitated just for a fraction of a second. Rictor took him in the throat. The last man let loose a cry for Trelmarixian, already closing the distance on the archer prince. Rictor turned in one fluid motion, stepped under his guard, his sword leaping to his hands as he slashed upwards. Rictor stood with a jerky motion and the cultist's momentum sent him tumbling over the edge, hurtling towards the ground below in a shower of his own blood.

Instantly Rictor was on the alert, but when it appeared that the tribeswomen had no intention to join in the attack he stood grimly. He cleaned his sword and sheathed it.

Qvan landed behind him.

"The way is clear." Was all that Rictor said. Killing men gave him no joy, and it was with a stony countenance that he marched towards the altar. He made no invitation for Maralet and Sakargo to join him, although he also made no motion to dissuade them if they wished it.

---

Is there a door or a tunnel behind the altar? Or, like, a big sign that says 'this way to the Great Scarab'? Anything cool on the altar?

The jagged rock wall behind the altar presented no opening to the untrained eye, but Qvan quickly discovered that a moderately-powerful illusion spell was in place thanks to his Arcane Sight. A closer look at the indicated area revealed this to be a cleverly placed Illusory Wall that hid a large tunnel entrance into the hill beyond. The altar itself did not have anything on it other than buckets worth of dried blood and other remnants of physical body parts.

Maralet and Sakargo were both enraged by the sudden killing of what seemed to have been faithful servants of the Great Scarab, but the arrival and looming presence of the gold dragon stayed their hand for now. Cringing at the possibility of seeing their chances of help by the Scarab dwindle more and more by the second, they still were unwilling to come to blows with these strangers. Both looked down from Blood Rise Rock over the vast area where Qvan's spell was still in effect, glanced back at the towering form of the dragon, and finally at the bloody remains of the three cultists who were so easily dispatched mere moments ago. Sharing a look between each other, and coming to an understanding, both stepped back away from the party.

Maralet sheathed her two spears and took position next to the altar, leaning against a rock outcropping. "We will leave you to whatever business you have come here for. Do what you must." Sakargo nodded curtly as she took the spot on the other side of the altar, her expression unreadable behind the veil, but her blue eyes were filled with desperation. "Indeed. We will wait for you to return. Whatever will be, will be. Go on."

Zhira looked at the two other women, then commented:

"The Jackal Prince Rictor named is a very evil entity; you should consider what it means, that somebody attacked him merely for stating he is the enemy of such a creature."

Then, waiting for no answer, she moved through the illusionary wall, taking point unless one of the others asked her to do otherwise.

Rictor followed after Zhira as she forged ahead into the tunnel, senses alert and an arrow nocked. If the actions of the cultists above were any indication they had every reason to expect an ambush.

He was doubly glad for Qvan's presence, and his ability to penetrate illusions and magical barriers. He voiced his thanks as they continued deeper into the shrine.

The cheiftains concerned him somewhat, but for now that fire seemed to be on a simmer. If they acted with justice hopefully they wouldn't come to blows. He prayed that they could be made to see the dark presence occupying the Rock.

Qvan had noticed the illusory wall instantly, but that did not mean he could see right through it. Hence the move to let others go first, scout out the dangers beyond, and let him close the march.

Still in dragon shape, he stood on the ledge and spoke to the matriarchs:
“This Great Scarab you seek... I am positive he is not who he pretends to be. If his blessing had any power to save you, I will wager it is because he was responsible for your trouble in the first place. We will put an end to it. You are equipped for war... there may be a time very soon when your skills at arms will be needed. The Curse did not appear by itself. The servants of the Prince of Famine will need to be dispatched soon... the Desert will bring favourable winds to its true children. I am sure to will know what to do when the time comes.”


He was going into the wall, but turned around for a last word of wisdom:
“Those of your tribes who were entangled by my spell... I would keep an eye on them. I learnt that spell from the Old Man Jatembe, and it only attacks those impure of hearts. Talk to them, they may be ripe for redemption.”

With a grin, he disappeared into the wall, helping his massive bulk through by crawling on both sides of the wall. His wings were still a major encumbrance, and scraped the natural rock ceiling, so he quickly changed to a more comfortable shape.

The others felt a wave of heat behind them, but soon recognised the old mage— except he was eight foot tall, made of living flames and semi-translucent. His flickering orange body cast light  and shadows in all directions, but his crisp grey eyes still looked dark, with a blueish hue.
  “I double up as a lantern, this way. This is not a stealth infiltration, is it?”

He was glad that Zhira took point and happy to close the march. The other benefit of this fiery form was that none would be able to hit his vital organs, as he was pure elemental flame down to the bone, gut, and heart. And it kept him warm, which after the long flight was a pleasant boon.

---

Large Fire Elemental

Zhira chuckled at Qvan's question, then answered:

"It could be easily be, if we had a mind to make it so; taking enemies by surprise is an art I mastered long ago. But right now, I don't see what benefit there could be to hiding; if whoever is inside had no interest in a battle taking place at their doorsteps, then no amount of ruckus is going to be drawing their attention."

OOC: Not sure if it's required, but in any case, here's a perception roll.

23:36, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 27 using 1d20+23.  Perception.

A short tunnel lead into a large area beyond the illusory wall. Many hands had worked this natural cavern over the years, digging out shelves and niches, carving lewd pictures into the sandstone walls, and constructing an enormous statue of a pregnant, jackal-headed woman that occupied the southern side of the room. To the south, behind the statue, were a couple of sandy steps leading to a pool filled with crystal-clear water.

Four more cultists, similarly dressed as the once guarding the entrance, lounged in the cavern. One was lying on the ground resting, two were playing cards in the flickering light of a candle at a small wooden table, the last one was busy eating what looked like foul, raw meat.

Two more creatures were visible as you entered, just coming out of the pool, the skin on these frog-like fiends was still wet and dripping water, their eyes looked dead and milky; the wide faces split by a fanged maw.

As Zhira assumed, none of these dwellers in the cavern seemed to be overly concerned about the large-scale battle that had been fought at the foot of Blood Rise Rock not 10 minutes ago. All looked rather shocked and surprised as the party arrived, illuminated by the bright-glowing form of Qvan's new shape.

---

Those would be Hydrodaemons. Like the cultists, posing no threat to your party at all.

"Agreed." Aryk said as he slipped through the illusion.
"Anyone lurking within would be well aware of the groups gathered outside.  Hopefully they will not be another force to fight once we finish our work in here."

He hustled with the others, his sword now out, the strange, crystalline composition of it reassuring in his hand.  And then suddenly they rounded a corner and were face to face with cultists.  Aryk didn't move.  Instead his mind made physical shards of his will, thin, razor-edged shards of crystal materializing and flying at the snacking cultist, stabbing into him as his teeth stabbed into the meat, his body falling to the floor as the blades continued their work until he was assuredly no threat.

 At the end of a long day, clearly past his usual bedtime, and weary of a two-hour flight, Qvan had no patience for minions. It was perhaps a surprising slice of his personality, but to those who knew him well, this made perfect sense. Students at the academy knew not to tickle him after dinner, lest they spend the night as toad waiting for a spell to wear off...

 His current shape of pure living flames blossomed into the shape of a Gold Dragon he had worn just instants before. He stepped forward and engulfed the whole area in an apocalypse of bright golden flames, roasting cultists, daemons, and statue alike.

 This display left the locals burnt, shaken, and probably questioning of their career path – but mostly it left them ripe to be either executed or subdued by his martially inclined companions.

 The wanton performance was also a test – Qvan kept his eyes open and observed the grotesque statue with interest as the flames covered it.

---

Free: Huge Gold Dragon
Move and Breath weapon for 51 fire damage (ref DC30 for half) just scathing everyone a little bit before you jump in :)
 Perception 46
This message was last edited by the player at 18:21, Fri 16 Oct 2020.

While Aryk quickly and efficiently took care of the feasting cultist in the back of the dark cavern, the dragon's fiery breath washed over the rest of the area, engulfing both the other three men and the two daemons. While none were quick enough to duck out of the way of the incoming flames, all survived the tremendous blast.

Howling in pain and surprise, the cultists of the Horseman of Famine scrambled to their feet, intoning divine prayers to heal their wounds and bolster their combat prowess. They shouted warnings about intruders to some more unseen inhabitants of the caves before engaging the assailants in earnest.

The two hydrodaemon shook themselves in revulsion and agony as the hated fire burned their leathery skin, but their fiendish heritage granted them some minor resistance to it and the emerged still capable of defending their lair. One summoned another of their ilk to strengthen their numbers, while the other closed the distance to the golden dragon and spit a poisonous fluid at Qvan in a futile attempt to put him to sleep.

---

Narrating the action of Qvan and the reaction of the enemies for the fun of it, but once Zhira and Rictor get their 'turn', most of your opponents will be done for I reckon.

OOC: would it require any particular effort to take the human cultists alive? That'd be my preference for what I'd want Zhira to do, but with this not being really a fight where we can roll for the result, I wouldn't want to assume without confirmation.

This message was last edited by the player at 12:48, Sat 17 Oct 2020.

OOC: No trouble whatsoever. They might struggle, naturally, but seeing as they are half your level there is really nothing they can do to stop you from capturing them.

Another thing to note, which I forgot to mention in my post, is that the statue of Lamashtu did not 'respond' in any way. There is no magical aura around it as well, so seems to be merely a stone object.

Between Aryk's flashing blade and the blazing gouts of fire Qvan was bathing the chamber in the cultists stood little chance. They didn't seem to need the assistance, but at Zhira's suggestion he moved forward swiftly.

One of the robed cultists was circling around towards Aryk's blind spot and Rictor was at his elbow in a trice. He seized the man by the scruff of his neck, yanking his hood off in the process, and although the maneuver left him open to a blow he soon had him on the ground, his knee between the cultist's shoulder blades, binding his hands with a strip cut out of his robe.

A blazing torrent of fire passed to his left close enough to heat his armor, and Rictor cast a baleful glance at Qvan. One look made him think better of mentioning it though, so he simply dragged the struggling cultist to a little hollow by the entrance and sat on him.

Seeing as Rictor had taken upon himself to capture the cultists, Zhira shrugged and jumped in the middle of the hydrodaemons, smashing them into one another and circling around, darting in to wound and keep smashing them into each other before darting away and outside of their range, taking advantage of their reckless charges to slam them back into one another to repeat the process until she finished getting rid of them.

Everything was over in a couple of seconds. Moments after the flames of Qvan's breath had swept through the cavern, casting dancing shadows of its inhabitants on the rough rock walls, was Zhira already next to the trio of startled daemons and begun her deadly attack pattern. Aryk remained at the tunnel entrance, concentrating a few seconds more on finishing off his target thanks to his lethal psionic powers and Rictor subdued another cultist with practiced ease, pinning the hapless man on the ground for further interrogation.

In the end, the three fiends uttered one last regretful croak before succumbing to Zhira's relentless blade, slumping to the blood-splattered ground with a wet noise. Rictor's captive continued to utter vile curses and dire threats at anyone who would care to listen while feebly trying to get himself free from the knight's grip.

---

Your call what you want to do with the remaining two cultists. If you want more people to question we can simply assume that you have also captured them alongside the other one.

 Qvan remained in dragon form, and simply uttered apparently to no one but the room — or perhaps the statue?
  "I see we have your attention! Come over here and we can discuss the terms of our visit. No one else needs to leave this world, though many still could..."

 He turned his big golden eyes to his companions, and added: "Someone is watching and listening."

---

starting to wonder if Sayid's son is the so-called Great Scarab
This message was last edited by the player at 00:28, Tue 20 Oct 2020.

Aryk's blades slammed into & through the cultist one more time then just simply disappeared, the blood what had been sprayed upon them falling to the ground with a splat.  It was at that moment Rictor acted, taking down the cultist Aryk hadn't seen, and the psion gave the prince a slight smirk & a nod of thanks.

"Well, if we are being observed, they know that we mean business then." Aryk said simply.

As in response to Qvan's challenge and Aryk's statement, a booming voice suddenly echoed through the cavern, seemingly coming from the statue of Lamashtu in the south.

"Indeed, it seems we have attracted the attention of several quite powerful individuals. Tell us, what is your business here with the Great Scarab? Have you come to challenge the divine? If that is the case, I should warn you, mortals, do not overestimate your capabilities! You might feel emboldened by dispatching those lowly servants so quickly, but do not expect the Great Scarab do be as easy of an opponent! As gracious of a new god as we are, we will not take affront at this intrusion and let you leave again unharmed. But do not presume to know what you are dealing with here!"

 Qvan was surprised the voice came from the statue, he had imagined the master of this place would have revealed themselves at this point. He recognised a simple illusion when he saw one, or in this case heard one.

 The magician let the others decide what to do with the cultist they had taken prisoner, or with the other ones for that matter. Still in dragon shape, he paced towards the statue and responded, as if talking to the jackal head itself:
  "Oh you are mistaken, we have no business with a scarab, great or otherwise."
 "We certainly wouldn't wish to challenge the divine, though I don't see what that has to do with you," he added with a chuckle.

 "No... we have simply come here to retrieve something we need. You and your minion can step aside, and no harm will come to you. Or you could try and stop us, though I doubt you would even slow us down..." he said with bravado and a large fanged smile, hoping to goad the Scarab to reveal himself.

 Qvan looked behind him and noticed an opening in the little side cave, supposedly towards the rest of the cavernous complex. He told the others:
 "Shall we carry on? It is getting late, but we might as well press on now that we have pushed the door."

---

I'm ok with carry on, just wondering when will be a good point to bring in the new PC

Rictor had captured the cultist on Zhira's orders and had no plans in particular for them, so he remained seated in the middle of his back and confined himself to a cuff now and againw whenever he struggled.

"Aye." He nodded his assent to Qvan. "We won't let bravado and big words sway us from our goal. Let's press forward, and retrieve the Shroud. If these cultists are thralls of the Jackal then we will cut through them, if they will not yield."

There was a long moment of silence after Rictor had responded to Qvan's general question of carrying on, but eventually the voice rang out once more in a tone tinged with regret.

"Ah, you seek the infamous Shroud of Flies? I see. Understandably you have come here in the hopes of discovering it after all these centuries, but I'm afraid your search will be in vain. The ancient relic lies in the ruins of Shadun, far to the north of here. The cultists of Lamashtu have found it in these caves long ago and, seeing how their goddess might not be pleased about having such a powerful artifact of a rival divinity in her sanctuary, took it away."

While the party made their way to the northern part of the cavern to investigate the ledge that was present there and apparently led further into the hill, the disembodied voice trailed after them. "As mentioned before, the Great Scarab will not fault you for intruding here. Even though the search for a daemonic relic might be suspicious to some, we will not question your motives and simply let you leave in peace once again. We wish you good fortune on your further travels!" The last words sounded a bit too hopeful and pressing to be considered honest.

Up and behind the ledge lay a side cave containing various treasures, with much of the stored wealth here being food, wine, and home sundries. But several large clay jars overflew with tens of thousands of coins, mostly of the copper variety and a silver-capped ivory tusk that looked quite expensive.

Zhira chuckled at the disembodied voice's claims, then asked, sounding genuinely curious:

"And how exactly is the Great Scarab healing the curse of the jackal prince? I'd be rather curious to know what sort of power can so easily neutralize the hatred of a daemon prince."

Musa had been mostly ignoring the fight with the Sand Giants. He had not returned to bother with such trivial concerns, although he did fight back when a giant got too close. When the Dragon and the strangers had arrived, Musa had tried to get close, but in the crush of the bodies, he had been wastefully delayed.

Now, with Mara and the leader of the giants going with the newcomers up to the rock Musa finally followed them. The two had glared at him when he arrived, Sakargo with open anger at another Suli approaching, and Maralet with suspicion at what Musa was up to. Still, this was no time to respect the leader's authority. He had too many concerns about the plague spreading through the desert.

Reaching the two, Musa turned up the charm. Within a few minutes, he had the giant chuckling at a joke and Maralet sighing at his flirtations. A minute after that, he was going deeper into the rock to "check on the strangers" with both giant and suli leader's convinced it was their own idea.

---

Diplomacy of 33, taking 10 is 43 to convince the two to let me pass

---

Walking onwards, he reaches the others and hears the very end of the conversation. He intentionally walks loudly, not wanting the strangers to think he was sneaking up on them. A gold dragon and its companions were not ones to antagonize unnecessarily. Especially given the butchery of daemons and cultists he had seen on his way over.

"Pardon my interruption of your conversation, but I would very much like to know the answer to the lady's question as well!" Musa called out.

The voice remained focused solely on the main cavern, so Rictor had some trouble hearing everything that was spoken, especially by his allies, standing a good distance away in this side cave.

"Yet another inquisitive child of the desert arrives? You try our patience with your endless, presumptive questions, mortals. The powers of the divine are truly capable of tremendous feats, triumphing even over a daemonic harbinger, let that be enough of an answer! But we would advise not to question us too closely and just be glad that the poor sick people of Meraz have found one small reprieve in these trying times. As you can see by the treasure your companion will most assuredly have discovered by now, they were more than happy and grateful for our aid, showering us by their own free will with their hard-earned money. Now let us rest in peaceful quiet. When morning comes, the Great Scarab needs to take care of his flock once more."