The Eye of Anubis: Book Eleven

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Isabella
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Post by Isabella »

The Tomb of Menetnashte
August 29th, 761, 9:49 AM; Day 165 of the Menetnashte Expedition

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The Tulpa smiled smugly up at Lia, looking rather amused at her swearing. "What? You always complain how the power is driving you crazy, Lia. I thought I'd try and help put things in perspective."

But he nodded to Kuzan, an unholy glimmer in his eyes. "If you wish me to open the way, just say so." He flashed a wide, predatory grin.
"No, but evil is still being — Is having reason — Being reasonable! Mousie understands? Is always being reason. Is punishing world for not being... Like in head. Is always reason. World should be different, is reason."
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Post by Rock of the Fraternity »

'And may fate one day be so kind as to allow me to offer you some 'perspective',' Lia thinks, but does not turn back to look at the tulpa. Her attention seems to be fixed on Kuzan for the moment. A very small thrill of amusement passes through her mind. 'At least it seems I've figured it out this time. And that, you befoulment, means you get to play doorman to us, regardless your blather.'
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Post by Isabella »

The Tomb of Menetnashte
August 29th, 761, 9:50 AM; Day 165 of the Menetnashte Expedition

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Devereux returned from his aimless circuit of the room, peering into the pool with some curiosity.

"Be careful with him, Kuzan," Harris said, warily. The guardsman had backed away from the pool on the revelation the Tulpa could cast spells. "If he only wanted to be helpful, he wouldn't have foiled Miss Mournswaithe's attempt."
"No, but evil is still being — Is having reason — Being reasonable! Mousie understands? Is always being reason. Is punishing world for not being... Like in head. Is always reason. World should be different, is reason."
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Post by Rock of the Fraternity »

'Kuzan should be safe enough, so long as he keeps his wits about him,' Lia thinks with a mental shrug. 'After all, the freak thing claims to be on his side, does it not? Just so long as the priest manages to not let himself be drawn into a discussion on perceived debts and the need for recompensation, it should be fine.'
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Post by Kaitou Kage »

"All right, then," Kuzan murmured, "Show me the way."

"I shall open the way," the tulpa said, his bile eyes widening as he looked into Kuzan's. The Tulpa was fully alert now, his intense stare causing Kuzan's mind to buzz. For a moment, he was staring up from the pool as the Tulpa looked down, then, he was back where he stood, then, somehow seeing both places at once. The tulpa flashed its feral grin.

Kuzan set his jaw and slowly walked forward to stand before his evil self. "Very well," he said, "Show me."

"I am trying," the tulpa struggled, slamming up against Kuzan's iron wiil. Kuzan regarded the scrap of rogue consciousness - it held no power over him anymore, not as it was. He could see what it was that the tulpa was trying to do, and realized he was capable of doing the same.

"Why don't I show you my way?" Kuzan suggested. "Kali is not the only powerful god in the world. There are many others that can visit destruction, bring creation, and sustain life." Kuzan looked down into those bile-colored eyes and pressed his will against his inner demon.

The tulpa squirmed under Kuzan's gaze, meeting his look with one of defiance. "Life is so easily destroyed," he whispered. "It is far easier to preserve through the death of another. The world hangs in balance. You may shun the path of destruction, but you leave it at the mercy of others... others who you cannot control, others who have no guidelines to their actions..." He tried once more to fight Kuzan, but the cleric's will was just too strong.

"Life is only part of the entire cycle," Kuzan said, "Destruction is only part of the whole cycle. I am not the Black Mother. She alone controls the full cycle of life. I am only a priest. I can only accomplish so much. Thus, I give my service to gods that I find the most in common with. Each god plays its part in Kali's world, and so do each of us mortals. Where I shun destruction, it serves to stand that another will focus on destruction."

"Yes..." the tulpa whispered. "You can only accomplish so much. But you could be more, so much more. There are limits to Varuna's influence..." The reflection's golden eyes slid past him to look at someone standing behind him. "There is someone Varuna can never save..."

Harris stiffened slightly, but he have Kuzan a firm nod. "Tell him how it is, Kuzan," he said. "Professor Devereux was right... I think he's frightened."

"Kali cannot save everyone in this life either," Kuzan reaffirmed, "She only destroys to create anew. Sometimes we need to save ourselves."

The tulpa bowed it's head for a moment. It dusted off its dirty blue dhoti, looking back up at Kuzan with its golden eyes. It said nothing more, simply looking at Kuzan for a while, and then walked back, opening the ivory doors of Kali's Temple.

There was a rushing sound as the pool reflection plunged into the darkness, the occasional drips of the sandstone room replaced by the dull sound of a roaring waterfall. The tulpa bowed to each of you in turn, as the lamps behind him began to swirl downward to the mysterious depths that had just opened up.

"From here, there is no turning back," the reflection said. "I would ask you to be sure of your path, but I know the answer for each of you. May Garuda's wings take you swiftly on your journey." The reflection rippled and vanished along with all the others, as the water below opened up into inky blackness.

Kuzan took a deep breath and stared absently into the darkness where his reflection stood only a moment before. He remained quiet for several minutes, his face solemn and unreadable. Then, he turned to Harris and looked the big Mordentishman in the eyes. "Even if the gods can't help you," he assured the guard captain, "I will continue to do what I can. As he said, our choices define us. I do not wish to be defined by apathy and destruction. Thus, if it is within my power to help you -- any of you -- I do so gladly."

And with that, the priest turned back to the now-darkened pool. "I am ready to move forward when you are," he said grimly.
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

"Oh, by all means," Charles says. "No reason to linger, is there?" He claps Kuzan on the shoulder and nods, half-smiling, acknowledging the Rajian's spiritual triumph. "Well spoken, and well chosen. I hope all of us can follow your example."
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Post by Isabella »

The Tomb of Menetnashte
August 29th, 761, 10:00 AM; Day 165 of the Menetnashte Expedition

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The water wasn’t terribly cold, but the sudden immersion sent a shock through your spine. You could feel the inexorable force of the water dragging you down, pulling you into the sudden darkness. The chains of Kali’s temple wrapped around you as you plunged into them, tangling you up in them even as the water pushed on you from above. The pressure was incredible, yet the chains were unyeilding - unable to go either up or down, you hung there in the blackness, your lungs burning as the air ran out...

================
  • drip
Charles Martel found himself obliged to straighten out his cuff sleeves where he sat -absolutely drenched, honestly, how did that manage to come about- and do his best to make himself presentable. It really wouldn’t do to look out of place at a time like this. The world danced around him, pirouetting in a flash of pearls and satin. The ballroom floor shone with its fresh polish, reflecting the elegant dancers as they waltzed upon it, clad in brilliant green. Others, decked in blue and red, watched the dazzling show from the sides; some of the younger couples stared coyly at each other, approaching and retreating in a strange dance of their own. Glass chandeliers hung from the ceiling, light glinting through them like sparkling rainbows, bathing the walls resplendently in gold -though whomever decorated the place ought to be sacked, those pictures scrawled all over didn’t add to the atmosphere at all- and shining out into the night. There was a reason Port-a-Lucine was called the jewel of Dementlieu, obvious to those who danced here tonight - the floor was ebony, the walls gold, the chandeliers diamonds, with emerald, sapphire, and ruby dancers inlaid upon them.

Charles finished his adjustments, settling himself upon his seat and looking at the sheet music in front of him. He couldn’t help but run his hands across the ivory keys of the grand piano -piano? He wasn’t much of a piano player- before setting his fingers to the notes and beginning to play. The masked dancers moved in time with his melody, gliding across the floor with a grace that made it seem like they were walking on air.

One of the piano keys was silent when he hit it... Odd. Charles continued to play, striking the key once more. No note sprang forth. The key was dead, as dead as... as...

Charles felt an agonizing pain in his arm, shooting up through his chest until it reached his heart. The ambassador’s son wasn’t even able to struggle as the agony sawed his body in half. Some terrible force kept him chained to where he sat, his fingers forced against the keys even as his blood boiled. The stone heart in his pocket seemed to glow hot in response to his torment - part of it beating erratically, the other half ominously silent.

Charles heard himself gasp as the pain subsided. He was sitting on an Akiri funeral bier, decorated to have the head, paws, and tail of a great spotted cat. The walls around him crawled with Akiri hieroglyphs that seemed to shift as he looked at them. Thin, razor sharp wires were threaded through his arms and fingers, with blood dripping down them like ruby beads, forcing his hands along the horrible haunting melody. The kris, unseen, keened in harmony with that terrible song, the dead key sending a jarring note of silence through the room whenever it was played. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see another feline stalking up behind him; a tilt of the head, and he could see it was a statue, nothing more... not as large as the Smilers, but still a lean and deadly looking creature. The great cats were scattered about the floor, each one with cartouches carved upon their chests in Ancient Akiri writing:
  • "She Who Runs Swiftly".

    "Slayer of Serpents".

    "The Pharaoh's Justice".
All around him, the dancers continued their inexorable waltz, the mindless, whirling automatons strung to the ceiling with wires much like Charles’. They were porcelain marionettes, the painted masks and gilded costume revealing lifeless, empty eyes beneath, dragged along only by the myriad of strings. The silver wires glittered in the chandelier light, crossing and uncrossing in scintillating patterns as the dance continued, promising to entangle anyone who drew too near. On the sidelines swung other marionettes, clad in blue, the place where their faces should have been scooped out and hollow - lightning shot forth from the empty void, flying through the air until it entered the face of another. Scarlet-dressed mannequins twirled slowly across the dance floor, moving with no sign of pattern or purpose. All among these macabre dancers hung Charles’ comrades, strung from the ceiling on bloody wires, the glittering chains of silver running through their hands.

And there were other, individual mannequins, laying silent and unfinished on the chairs that lined the room. Most were missing a few parts here and there, limbs, legs, arms, heads, but generally held no particular interest. Yet a few of them seemed to stand out. One, sitting next to Andre, wore a bright purple coat, its painted violet-eyes dull and unseeing. There was one slumped, forlorn and abandoned, in chairs near where Lia hung; it was missing so many parts it was barely recognizable, but something in its sable wardrobe and the square-rimmed glasses upon its chest sparked a chord of familiarity. And there was one, all in green, that Charles knew all too well - it was nothing more than a dead porcelain doll, and yet it was hard to shake how real those graceful hands, those pointed ears, those curved lips looked, lying lifeless upon the floor.

Harris groaned slightly as he dangled from strings that held him, his great weight causing the wires to cut deeply into his flesh. “Is everyone here?” he asked softly, his eyes clouded with pain. The guardsman looked around, searching for the others, his eyes falling upon the doorways that lay behind him. There were two. One, a pair of double doors, looked to be the exit from this steel and satin nightmare. Another, a small, open door that led into a side room, was a mystery. From where you all stood, you couldn’t see what was within.

“Professor Devereux!” Edmund called out. The professor was staring through the open doorway, his face as pale as his porcelain double. Devereux began to kick and struggle, trying his best to tear himself away from the hidden room, the strings mangling his arms as he squirmed in their grasp. Harris watched in horror, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of what lurked through the door. His eyes went wide. Edmund yanked his arm straight through his strings, the razor wire devastating his arm, even as half of Charles’ stone heart began to pulse out a silent warning.

Something was coming.

Image

Objective: Escape through the double doors at the top of the ballroom.

Devereux tries feebly to escape and fails.
Edmund yanks one of his arms free, taking four strength damage.


PCs:
Kuzan: 89/89 HP, Restrained, Darkvision, Greater Resistance
Lia: 60/46 HP, Restrained , False Life (14 bonus hitpoints), Superior Resistance, Greater Mage Armor
Tomas: 107/107 HP, Restrained
Charles: 63/63 HP, Restrained
Otto: 62/62 HP, Restrained
Andre: 35/35 HP, Restrained
Sascha: 101/101 HP, Restrained


NPCs:
Harris: 115/115 HP, Restrained (half-free), -4 strength
Devereux: 33/33 HP, Restrained


For all purposes, the room is 20 ft tall. Chairs, cheetah statues, and the funeral bier are three feet high and can be moved onto normally. The piano is five feet high and can be moved onto with an extra 5 squares of movement.

Restrained: You are bound to the ceiling with silvery razor wire. While you are restrained, you cannot move, make attacks, or cast spells with somatic components. As a move action, you may attempt a Strength Check (DC 13) that deals 1d4 Strength damage to the person strung up if successful, with no damage being dealt on a failed attempt. You may also attempt a DC 25 Escape artist, Heal, or Disable device check that inflicts no penalty. It takes two successful checks to get down. Freed PCs may attempt checks for an adjacent person who is still restrained, or attack the wires with a slashing weapon (AC 13) twice to get them down.

All Marionettes: Razor sharp strings are extending from the marionettes into the darkness that passes for the ceiling. These are objects, not enemies, meaning you may choose to move through them as if they were allied. However, any PC passing through their square will take damage from the strings. This effect extends all the way to the ceiling.

Green Marionettes: Any square that has two green dancers adjacent to it will deal damage to anyone entering that square. This effect extends all the way to the ceiling. These dancers appear to be moving slowly.

Blue Marionettes: Each pair of blue dancers has lightning coursing between them, 5ft above the ground. PCs can attempt to jump over the lightning (DC 20 with 20ft running start, otherwise DC 40) or tumble under it (DC 25). The are moving at a moderate pace.

Red Marionettes: These dancers appear to be moving slowly.
"No, but evil is still being — Is having reason — Being reasonable! Mousie understands? Is always being reason. Is punishing world for not being... Like in head. Is always reason. World should be different, is reason."
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Post by Rock of the Fraternity »

Lia shouts with anger and wrenches on the wires holding her fast -- alas, to no good effect. "Someone get me down from here!" she roars, struggling, casting about for some means of escape. "I can't work any spells with my hands tied like this, other than Knock! I can't move!"

(OOC: Strength check (like I'm going to have any luck with an Escape Artist check ...) 11. I'm not going anywhere.)
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Post by Nathan of the FoS »

Charles feels the heart in his jacket pocket hammering in time with with his own as he seats himself and begins to pick out the eerie melody.

I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this. Please, merciful Ezra, no...my hands are my own!

Sweating, he feels his hands, moved by some demoniac impulse, move more quickly. The music speeds up, and the dancers match it. With each repetition the tempo increases until his hands flicker like fire on the keys and the dancers writhe in an obscene tarantella behind him, puppets played from some unseen height for the amusement of an audience beyond imagining.

"No!" Charles whispers, as his hands pick out the cadenza and return again to the beginning. "No, I..."

My voice. I have my own voice.

Emptying his mind, Charles lets his hands play on without his knowing what they do and speaks in a long-dead tongue. "Alibi."

In the next instant he stands by Lia, a drop of blood at the end of each fingertip. "You called, m'selle?" he says, reaching for the dull gray adamantium blade at his belt.

Cast dimension door (verbal component only!) to move to U22, next to Lia.
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Post by Rock of the Fraternity »

"Not specifically, but you'll do," Lia says, relief evident in her voice. "You'll more than do, dear Charles. You're a sight for sore eyes, and I applaud your verve with the Art. Now, if you don't mind, the wires? If worse is coming, I should like to blast it to Ezra's chill embrace in the Mists. Captain Harris! Professor Devereux! What is in there?"
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Post by lostboy »

Whatever in the hells of damnation was going on, being strung up was doing neither Sascha nor the rest any good. Glancing up at the razor wire holding him fast, Sascha makes an experimental tug, sending agony and flying up both arms.

"Nothing for it" he grunts through clenched teeth, and grasping the wire in a heavy gauntlet twists and pulls to get some leverage, then with a savage roar of pain rips both arms away from the wire. With nothing holding him up, the knight crashes to the ground in a pool of his own blood, swearing loudly in a colourful mixture of Falkovnian and Vos as he admires his now ruined arms.


[OOC: 11 / 23 on the strength checks and using 1 charge of brute gauntlets for another +2 so 13 / 25 for 6 total strength damage (man where is the 1's when you need them)]
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Post by DocBeard »

"Aah!" Tomas snaps, feeling pain as he tries to gnaw the razor wire apart. Spitting out some brakish blood and the cold, metallic taste of the wire, Eisenwald takes a moment to look over his life and wonder how he got in a situation like this.

"Oh, this is all real Akari!" Tomas snaps at the air, perhaps venting his spleen so he can have a better shot at escape.

(OOC: Heal check, failed both.)
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Post by yalenusveler »

Andre at first looked like he was perhaps auditioning for some strange form of modern dance as he began to move his arms in what could only be politely termed an.. unusual fashion. I'm sure I look like an idiot...but I'll sacrifice dignity on the altar of not shredding my tendons Andre thought to himself, before finally he was free of the wires, without all that unpleasantly that comes with major muscle groups being shredded.

Now all that was left was to help free the others and get out without getting invited to a rather macabre danse.

Easy, right?

OOC: Heal results of 26 and 33. Also, activating Amulet of tears for 24 temp hp
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Post by Rock of the Fraternity »

Seeing so many of the others try their hardest to break free is ... inspirational. Or something. Lia growls deep in her throat, tenses her muscles and pulls on the wires. There is a nasty sound of tearing, and some blood splashes on the floor, but Lia's native strength wins out this time.

"Quick," the wizard gasps to Charles as she shakes life back into her freed arm. "Please cut the other wire, before whatever's coming arrives!"

(OOC: Second Strength check to escape: 21. Took 2 Strength damage, but that's okay. I think this is the second time in the whole campaign that I've had to seriously use the whole Ability score ... ^^; )
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Post by Kaitou Kage »

Kuzan yelped in agony. He tried to move and felt the searing pain shoot through his whole body. Every breath hurt, every movement stung terribly. And the others seemed no better off.

Kuzan spoke a single word and vanished.

He appeared next to Professor Devereux and blinked rapidly to clear his mind of the pain and the disorientation.

Short, sweet, blah post because my brain is currently fried. Dimension door off to H15, the square immediately to Devereux's left.
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