The Eye of Anubis: Book Five

[Kaitou Kage]

To the hells with you, Kuzan thought darkly. For an instant, a dark fanaticism flickered in his gaze, golden eyes darkening. The moment passed quickly, though, and he turned to the others.

"I contacted Sam, but with this, I don't know how much he can do," he said, "I should be able to take myself and three others back to camp, maybe out of the keep entirely. But I won't be able to come back and get the rest..."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Ishmael," Lia says. "He can move through the walls of this place. If he can take others along for the ride, he could help us to get out of here. He wants the book to leave this keep, and we can remove it for him." Lia starts to call out: "Ishmael? Ishmael?"

[DocBeard]

"Go." Tomas says, "Get the book out of here. We'll figure out the rest..."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"I will 'figure out the rest' myself, right here and now!" Lia growls, glaring at the door past the flames. 'Sagittae omne errore vacuae, volete!' the Mordentishwoman shrieks. Four bolts of energy fly from her hand to impact with the door. 'Sagittae omne errore vacuae, volete!' Lia repeats the spell, again hurtling her magic at the portal. 'Sagittae omne errore vacuae, volete!' the masked woman shrieks. Four final bolts fly to impact with the stubborn portal -- and shatter it.

(OOC: Fired three Magic Missile spells for 40 damage, total. That should be enough to wreck the thing completely, right?)

Lia incants a new spell, one hand pressed against her chest: 'Vita corpi phantasma est. Iussu meus et ex semita obscura, illusionem firmate! Vita adulterina!' Shadows squirm around the veiled girl, hugging her briefly.

"Alright, that's the best I can do," Lia states. "Kuzan, I recommend you move the people carrying the book and the ... other item of note, first. The rest who stay ... All that is in our way now is the fire. Perhaps we can make it if we rush through. I have two healing potions if worst comes to worst."

(Casting Extended False Life for 16 hp. That's all I can do ...)

[Kaitou Kage]

"All right," Kuzan said, "Anyone need one last burst of healing before we go?"

He moved toward the doorway, gauging the fire anxiously. Then, after everyone accepted or declined the last minute healing, he took a deep breath and dove through the flames into the passage beyond.

If anyone needs a heal, now's a time to speak up.

Regarding hp totals:

Do not forget that Mass Aid absorbed 16 points of damage (pretty much all of the lingering acid damage anyone had).

Also, the mass lesser vigor will recover 1 hp/round for 9 rounds, so add +9 hp.

Kuzan will wait to see if anyone speaks up and pronounce a healing on them, then go through. If there are healings needed, I'll handle what I do exactly in the OOC thread.

Of course, this assumes the door was burst down by the magic missiles (and Ishaq, if need be -- see OOC thread) like we thought. If it's not, well, Kuzan's not dumb enough to attempt leaping through a closed door.

[lostboy]

Khalil watches the demon's illusion with some alarm. The whole fiendish presence completely shattering his good mood at the clensing of the lake, and more importantly the lifting of his duty.

Hisd alrm grows even more as the flames appear, fortunatley everyone else seems to have the situation under control. As the door shatters and Kuzan heads through, Khalil mutters an akiri phrase "Asim min hariqa". His eyes flash red for a moment and a smoky sheen covers his skin.

Rummaging in his pack he pulls forth an oilskin sack, turnign to Karsh he whispers urgently:
<quickly my friend, you must trust me>

Without waiting for a reply he pulls the sack over the hawk, enveloping it inside, before plunging after Kuzan.


[OOC: casting resist energy (fire) on Khalil, and then jamming Karsh into the bag of holding for the little trip through the flames. I believe he can survive in there for ten minutes? He will of course be pulling Karsh out of there PDQ after they get past the flames, so if I happen to not be about assume I dont let the little critter suffoicate NT, ok?

However lookign at the SRD it seems as though a type I bag of holding can take up to 250lbs so if one of you lot doesnt fancy getting toasted feel free to jump on board.... Or cant I do that?]

[Nathan of the FoS]

"All right," Kuzan said, "Anyone need one last burst of healing before we go?"

"Yes, please," Charles says, looking at the wall of fire with a worried eye. "I'm still rather feeling the effects of my acid bath, and I'd prefer not to have to dare the inferno at less than tip-top condition. Or at all, really, but it seems the matter is out of our hands. Lead on, m'sieur, and I'll follow."

[NeoTiamat]

Player General Hitpoint Report
Ishaq: -57 HP
Khalil:
Kuzan: Mass Aid (+6 Temp HP)
Charles: Shield (+4 AC), -10 HP
Lia: Extended Mage Armor (+4 AC), Extended False Life (+16 HP)
Tomas: Magic Weapon (+1 AB, +1 Dmg), -38 HP.
Andre: Mass Aid (+1 HP),
Otto: Barkskin (+2 AC), -6 HP

I'll be keeping this up to date, since its kind of important right now. Haven't the time to post just this instant, but I'll do it after supper.

[steveflam]

Ishaq looks at Kuzan, his body and armor soaked in blood and guts. That wasn't merely the serpent's blood and guts but his as well. "I am in need of some healing, Effendi. Though the serpent is dead, it has done its vile work on all of us, I especially, for being so foolish as to attack it three times and it my wracked body."

[yalenusveler]

"This is insane, but it just might work." Andre said, as he began to chant, the words "Stoirm Naofa!" leaving his lips as he chanted and threw a small flask, a hard driving rain manifesting at the doorway which was so unkindly blocked..and hopefully putting out the fire.

"While we have a chance...try exposing the book to the rain, and then stab it with that knife..might work." He managed to get out while pausing to see if it actually did any good.

OOC:Holy Storm on the fire...rules say it extinguishes non protected fires, and has a 50% chance to extinguish protected fires. Hoping this works, even though it isn't cold damage.

[Kaitou Kage]

"Foolish nothing," Kuzan retorted, "In the end, that's what saved us."

He began moving from person to person, doing his healing business and making sure everyone was in good shape.

Here we go.

Charles: +11HP level 1 cure
(4 (dice) + 5 (caster level) + 2 (augment) = 11)

Ishaq: +41HP level 3 cure with 2 ring of mystic healing charges
(14 (dice) + 10 (caster level) + 6 (augment) + 11 (mystic healing) = 41)

Tomas: +32HP level 3 cure
(16 (dice) + 10 (caster level) + 6 (augment) = 32)

Otto: Waiting to see if the hp that the DM posted above reflects the Vigor spell that I cast just now. If it does, then 6x cure minor wounds to Otto.

[NeoTiamat]

The Keep, Level Five, Dežbār Keep
May 29th, 761, 6:58 AM; Day 73 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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Magic crumbled the door with ease, the old, petrified wood exploding into splinters at Lia's spells. But the battle of magecraft and will was not yet over.

Water poured from above, a battle of the elements more literal than any you had encountered before. The mortal versus the immortal, good versus evil, water versus fire, heavens versus hell. Two opposite forces met together as Andre's spell and Marchosias's incantation collided. Were the forces of equal power, they'd neutralize each other, that much was clear. Only they weren't.

Andre was all a mortal magus could desire to be, but the Red King had eons of experience to draw upon, and a power greater than the merely mortal. At the first drops of holy water, the fire seemed to dampen, but then drew new reserves of flames and force from somewhere. Crackling and roaring with malign fury, they rebounded.

But... not completely. The opposition could not be denied, not completely. Where before was a single wall of pure flame, now it flickered. And some of those flickers... were large enough to let a man through.

[OOC: Due to a certain amount of interference from everyone's favorite Archivist, the Infernal Wall of Fire is not quite as.... cohesive as it was before.

Everyone passing through can make a DC 16 Reflex save. On a failure, full 24 fire damage. On a success, 12 Fire damage instead. All the usual Evasion foolery applies.

The Torture Chamber, Sub-Level Two, Dežbār Keep
May 29th, 761, 6:59 AM; Day 73 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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From a thousand eyes, the Red King watched. From a thousand ears, the Red King listened. And from a single maw, the Red King vented his rage.

Mortals... Marchosias loaded into the word all his anger, all his contempt and frustration and humiliation and hatred. Eleven hundred years. Eleven hundred years, and not a day more shall I remain here.

Marchosias was not certain when he began to talk to himself, but it assuaged the loneliness of Dezbar Keep. For the seducer, for the tempter and Subtle Fox, his residency here in Dezbar was nothing less than torture. But for the Sundering of his Master, the fiend would still be at the councils of Nessus. But for the temerity of the mortal mage, but for that accursed Sikarba'al....

The surface Marchosias presented was a calm one, but inside, the fiend gnawed his soul to shreds.

Concentrate. Marchosias watched as the members of the Menetnashte Expedition rushed through the flaming doorway one by one. They had his soul, the crude little phylactery this demented demiplane had forced it into. Their answer was obvious, at any rate.

Fiendy McBirddog...? Well, it's a new epithet, at any rate. But no... threats and simple fire wouldn't work to secure his soul and his escape. No... something else would have to do. To think, the Lord of Passion, reduced to this. Summoning firelings

There was a dark irony in Marchosias's current state, but the fiend cared little for it. Still, at least Sikarba'al was considerate enough to leave him so many tools with which to create his servitors.

Despair. Pain and despair were the hallmarks of this fetid building, but pain made for too volatile servants. Despair... steady, unceasing, unflinching despair was to be the base. Like a maestro, Marchosias reached out for the thin film of hopeless sorrow that clung to this chamber like an oil sheath.

To it, the fiend added a bit of his hatred, the eternal contempt that drove the Marquis of Hell still after so many centuries. This would give his creations purpose. Nothing would stop them, not even death.

The echoes of this ancient keep would guide them, its horrors provide the fiend's servants with senses. Marchosias's malevolence infused every stone of this horrid building, and so Marchosias's servitors would know it as he did. There was not a nook, not a cranny or closet or corner where they could hide. The Red King would have his due, the Marquis of Hell his book.

And to clothe them, Marchosias wreathed his creations in the flames of hell. About the despair, the hatred, the old sorrows and new furies of Dezbar Keep the fiend placed a coat of fire, the red and orange inferno that was the Lord of Passion's hallmark.

As Marchosias watched, the spirits of his new creations took a brief form, a rainbow of fire and light. Then, one by one, the fires died, only to flicker to light anew. But not the rainbow flames of before, but the low, guttering black flames that seared the soul and turned it to ash.

Bring me the book. Bring me the Sefer Raziel HaMalakh. Marchosias whispered to his creations, to his children. The water no longer holds my soul in its grasp. Burn the intruders, and bring me my book.

As a one, the firelings left the decaying dungeon of Dezbar Keep, their hearts full of despair, full of hatred and horror, off to kill their masters foes with their hearts full of fire.

And in his little room at the bottom of the castle, Marchosias watched with his thousand eyes.

The Keep, Level Five, Dežbār Keep
May 29th, 761, 7:02 AM; Day 73 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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The first lights of dawn were just starting to crawl over horizon, though the sun still sat behind the distant hills as the eight of you crawled out of the flaming doors of Dezbar.

Samael was there, and Jervis, and Guy with Loup, though the wolf-dog cringed with the instinctive fear of animals about the wild, untamed flames. The little Borcan and his two hulking companions were armed to the teeth, however. Samael had his pistols limbered and ready, while Jervis held the longsword at ease in his bare hand, the other covered in a massive, spiked war gauntlet. Guy looked almost soft in comparison, his brown-grey hair proclaiming him the oldest, till you realized the cool, professional look in his eye as the pre-dawn light glinted off the axe.

And you, in comparison, were burned and beaten and drowned, threatened and terrified and splattered with acid, and looking not nearly your best. Guy's first words confirmed your general feeling about your looks. "You alright?"

"They're breathing." Samael cut in. "The others are finishing getting packed. Come on, let's get out of here fast."

Player General Hitpoint Report
Ishaq: -16 HP
Khalil:
Kuzan: Mass Aid (+6 Temp HP)
Charles: Shield (+4 AC),
Lia: Extended Mage Armor (+4 AC), Extended False Life (+16 HP)
Tomas: Magic Weapon (+1 AB, +1 Dmg), -6 HP.
Andre: Mass Aid (+1 HP),
Otto: Barkskin (+2 AC)

Healing counted in, possible damage not counted in.

[The Whistler]

Otto looked at the wall of fire. Hard. You got the feeling that he wouldn't stop looking at it, were a meteor to spontaneously plunge through the ceiling a half an inch from his face.

...Well. That certainly is a... Yep. That's a wall of fire.

Awful perceptive of you.

Are you making fun of me?

...Maybe. All right--through we go.

What th--! Perhaps I didn't make myself clear earlier, about how that's a WALL of FI--

Point taken. Now: through we go.

I hate fire! Wolves hate fire! Why would you possibly--

How'd'you think wolves feel about being smoked to death in evil man-buildings?

All right, granted, but I still don't think I should-- Hey!-- What are you--

As had become more and more frequent with Otto as of late, the following half-second involved one of those movements that a tall, fat man should under no circumstances be capable of pulling off; as such, it is difficult to put into words. It started with a headlong dash into the midst of the flames, after which things got a little vague; all that can be said about the middle bit is that it involved quite a lot of jumping, and that the gunsmith may actually have been upside-down at one point. Moments later, he barreled out of the other end of the inferno in an extremely unlikely forward-roll, eventually screeching to a halt, miraculously unburnt.

And on all fours.

Quickly--and a little self-consciously--Otto sprang to his feet, dusting himself off as if nothing in particular had happened, and moved to join the rest of the group.

"No time to lose--we go."

24 on the save, and Evasion takes care of the rest.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Charles nods appreciatively at the tatters in the wall of fire produced by the fall of Andre's summoned rain. "Good show, old man," he says. "I've always been rather fond of rainy weather."

His blue-grey eyes scanning the rents in the veil of flame, he notes the synchronizing of the waves of fire. Sine wave, sine wave with a frequency of...h'm...two and a half...sine wave of period...three and a half. That's it. Roughly. So, wait for all three to peak and jump after the fast wave has peaked again to go through when they're all near the trough... count of PEAK, two, one, JUMP!

Leaping through a rent in the flames which closes just behind him, as if trying to catch his heels, Charles hits the ground on the far side and keeps going, leaving space for anyone who might be following. A near thing, that, he notes, with a distant, cold clarity. All of this diving and what-not has put me off my form, perhaps.

Reflex 17

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Lia rushes through the flames without saying a word -- but she does make sounds once she's through; an angry snarl of pain. "Leave it, leave it!" she gasps if anyone goes to comfort her. "Away from here, first!" And she certainly seems well enough to run all-out.

Once the group has rejoined the rest of the expedition, Lia nods to Samael's words. "Yes, by all means, let's get out of here! I care not to find out what that wretch in the dungeon would try against us next. Have you found a way to open the potcullis, or shall we use Otto's bombs against it?"

(OOC: On the one hand, Reflex save 8, so 24 damage. On the other hand, I had some hp extra thanks to False Life and Kuzan's spell. Burnt, but not roasted!)