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Quest for the Holy Relics: A NeoGAF DnD Play by Post Campaign
- Thread starter ThLunarian
- Start date
Jackben
bitch I'm taking calls.
((I'm good to go after this quick post.))
Early in the festivities, Tarkus calls Martok over and places in his hands a sack of 4,000 gold pieces. "For the reformation." Pushing it into his hands, anticipating protest he continues in earnest. "Nearly have all I will need for coming storm. Where I go after, no wealth will aid me, nor any that still lives should our quest fail..."
He clears his throat, dismissing the notion.
"This but a start to help with efforts here. Good words in speech alone not enough to make change, but in time, I believe in path to future I speak of." Saluting him once more, he joins a table with Muun and orders several drinks.
- - -
Despite the sizable stack of slain cups and mugs of ale sitting before them, the half-orc feels only a mild buzz. Not letting that get in the way of this last celebration before the task at hand, he orders and downs several more drinks. Rapping his ring of sustenance against the table he shrugs his shoulders. "Like all magic it seem a blessing and curse. Reinforce already heavy tolerance more than one would like..."
Nodding his agreement to Muun's observation, the fighter can only grunt. "Our journey has shown me dividing and blinding people to true enemy...is one of evil beings most powerful abilities." He is actually greatly relieved there is hope here, even for a moment amongst this small orc band.
"Never met many orc or half-orc since enslavement. Using ideals as something to inspire, Tarkus parrot from commanders in Storm Crow army." He shrugs his shoulders but quickly resumes a serious look. "I do believe in them. But greatest lesson I learn may be that truth is, your people, be it race or family or simply traveling companions..."
The fighter chugs his ale, finishing his cup before he continues. "They are what make you whole. They are your identity and future. And I will lay down life to protect them."
- - -
Later, despite his reinforced tolerance, Tarkus stumbles down an alley as he foolishly attempts to sober himself with a bit of exercise. Snorting at his own incompetence he chastises himself. 'Stupid. Sit and let head settle.' Stopping to rest, the hair on the back of his neck raises up as he feels a chill up his spine.
Turning to face the shadow, he is confronted by a stranger is tattered rags pushing a cart full of macabre oddities. Growling in irritation at being startled by a simple merchant, his frustration quickly passes as he is drawn toward the strange cart by the sound of a wind chime.
Wordlessly, the merchant grins showing a mouth full of black gums. He reaches into his cart, pushing aside what looks like a bone flute and something vaguely manlike floating in a jar. Pulling out what appears to be a mummified hand perfectly preserved and wrapped in linen, he ties it to a string of small black beads and hands it to Tarkus.
"Darkness need not be a fear, knight of green. Take this, warrior. Bestow a ring upon the fingers of the punished and it shall add to your power beyond limits of the arcane."
Tarkus eyes the merchant with suspicion but parts with his gold nonetheless, feeling their meeting more than coincidence.
"Yess. Wear it on your neck and magic of the punished shall protect you."
Tarkus watches as the man departs, the chimes of his cart echoing further and further until they can no longer be heard.
Early in the festivities, Tarkus calls Martok over and places in his hands a sack of 4,000 gold pieces. "For the reformation." Pushing it into his hands, anticipating protest he continues in earnest. "Nearly have all I will need for coming storm. Where I go after, no wealth will aid me, nor any that still lives should our quest fail..."
He clears his throat, dismissing the notion.
"This but a start to help with efforts here. Good words in speech alone not enough to make change, but in time, I believe in path to future I speak of." Saluting him once more, he joins a table with Muun and orders several drinks.
- - -
Despite the sizable stack of slain cups and mugs of ale sitting before them, the half-orc feels only a mild buzz. Not letting that get in the way of this last celebration before the task at hand, he orders and downs several more drinks. Rapping his ring of sustenance against the table he shrugs his shoulders. "Like all magic it seem a blessing and curse. Reinforce already heavy tolerance more than one would like..."
Nodding his agreement to Muun's observation, the fighter can only grunt. "Our journey has shown me dividing and blinding people to true enemy...is one of evil beings most powerful abilities." He is actually greatly relieved there is hope here, even for a moment amongst this small orc band.
"Never met many orc or half-orc since enslavement. Using ideals as something to inspire, Tarkus parrot from commanders in Storm Crow army." He shrugs his shoulders but quickly resumes a serious look. "I do believe in them. But greatest lesson I learn may be that truth is, your people, be it race or family or simply traveling companions..."
The fighter chugs his ale, finishing his cup before he continues. "They are what make you whole. They are your identity and future. And I will lay down life to protect them."
- - -
Later, despite his reinforced tolerance, Tarkus stumbles down an alley as he foolishly attempts to sober himself with a bit of exercise. Snorting at his own incompetence he chastises himself. 'Stupid. Sit and let head settle.' Stopping to rest, the hair on the back of his neck raises up as he feels a chill up his spine.
Turning to face the shadow, he is confronted by a stranger is tattered rags pushing a cart full of macabre oddities. Growling in irritation at being startled by a simple merchant, his frustration quickly passes as he is drawn toward the strange cart by the sound of a wind chime.
Wordlessly, the merchant grins showing a mouth full of black gums. He reaches into his cart, pushing aside what looks like a bone flute and something vaguely manlike floating in a jar. Pulling out what appears to be a mummified hand perfectly preserved and wrapped in linen, he ties it to a string of small black beads and hands it to Tarkus.
"Darkness need not be a fear, knight of green. Take this, warrior. Bestow a ring upon the fingers of the punished and it shall add to your power beyond limits of the arcane."
Tarkus eyes the merchant with suspicion but parts with his gold nonetheless, feeling their meeting more than coincidence.
"Yess. Wear it on your neck and magic of the punished shall protect you."
Tarkus watches as the man departs, the chimes of his cart echoing further and further until they can no longer be heard.
KittenMaster
Member
"Besides you guys... the only people I have in my life are Lucille and Celia... And I don't know what will happen to Lucille or how to approach her about it."
ThLunarian
Member
Martok accepts Tarkus's donation graciously. "You honor me with your words and deeds, Tarkus. There is always a place for you here, should your journey be met with success. Here, allow me to present to you a gift. Perhaps it will be of use in fulfillment of your destiny." He reaches into a satchel that has been at his side every time Tarkus has met him (even in the future), and produces a wide, shallow glass jar filled with a liquid that has a very dull, soothing glow about it.
"This Restorative Ointment has served me well in past battles. Perhaps there will be occasion for you to make use of it. Lok'Thar, Tarkus the Honorable." He gives Tarkus an orcish salute, and the party continues.
((Val, you can go through with the trial at your leisure. Tarkus and Muun, don't take this as interrupting any potential conversation; feel free to engage in RPing around the trial if you'd like.
Quintus, if you'd like something to do then you can make a post about helping Stanley adjust to his migration to Alydar. Feel free to get other NPCs in town involved if you want))
"This Restorative Ointment has served me well in past battles. Perhaps there will be occasion for you to make use of it. Lok'Thar, Tarkus the Honorable." He gives Tarkus an orcish salute, and the party continues.
((Val, you can go through with the trial at your leisure. Tarkus and Muun, don't take this as interrupting any potential conversation; feel free to engage in RPing around the trial if you'd like.
Quintus, if you'd like something to do then you can make a post about helping Stanley adjust to his migration to Alydar. Feel free to get other NPCs in town involved if you want))
((Mood music))
In the bowels of the mayor’s manse, the man formerly known as Valentino Fierno stared at a guttering torch through the heavy iron bars of his cell, the only source of light or heat in this dank cell. Though Valerie had ushered an administration of enlightenment and civility, it seemed that somewhere along the line of succession, the office of mayor had been occupied by something of a sadist. Or perhaps they merely served during generally sadistic times and were a product of their environment. In either event, Valerie was putting the small dungeon to good use containing the treacherous mastermind of the Arm of Vecna uprising while the rest of the family assembled in the considerably more comfortable environs above to decide his fate.
Valentino’s mind whirred. While he no longer had the power of the Monocle of Ioun within him, he still retained a great deal of the knowledge it had imparted to him during his brief access to it. The fools of this era had only the most rudimentary understandings of physics, metallurgy, and a whole host of other sciences. Valentino, by contrast, had become an expert in countless fields that had not even been dreamed of yet, let alone invented. An intellectual titan, towering far above his contemporaries, he could not possibly be restrained. Even bound to the wall in iron manacles as he was, his escape was inevitable on a timeline of sufficient length. It was only a question as to whether or not his erstwhile siblings would decide to kill him before he could do so. Knowing them as well as he did, however, he knew they would not. It had been a key part of his gamble to surrender when Valgar had defeated him, and thus far everything was working out precisely as anticipated.
He was already identifying weaknesses in the security routine that he could capitalize on. Rust on the bolt that held his chains into the wall, for instance; with the correct positioning and application of leverage, he could tear it free of the masonry with ease. A bar that wobbled every time the door to the cell swung open; once freed from the wall, he could pry it lose and slip through the gap with nary a trouble at all. Yes, his confinement was nothing but a bit of theater. He could escape the cell any time he pleased, at which point it would be trivial to escape the mansion, and from there escaping the city would be simplicity itself. After that, he would have to consider his next move, probably deciding upon killing Valgar and his damnable party of idiots just so they would no longer interfere. That would come later, though. For now, he had all the time in the world.
A voice down the hall dismissed the guard positioned outside the cell. Valentino lifted his head, interest piqued. This was a significant deviation from the schedule and protocol as he had observed it for the past week. The guard was not supposed to be relieved for another hour, and even then they were supposed to come down to the cell and take position before the previous guard left his post. Curious…
The mystery was solved when a small procession of hooded figures led by a massive man pushing a much smaller woman on a wheeled chair. There were four total, and despite the hidden faces no one harbored any doubt that their identities were not known. “What’s all this then?” Valentino sneered from the wall of his cell. “Are we putting the gang back together?”
“No,” sighed Valerie as she fit a key into the cell door and swung it inward. “We are here to pass our judgment on you.”
Valentino laughed bitterly as the four filed into the cell to form a rough semi circle around the prisoner. “What?” he asked of them in mock surprise, “Don’t I get a trial?”
“Those that live outside the boundaries of the law can scarcely expect due process,” explained the humorless Valdemar as he threw back his hood. Whether he did not catch Valentino’s sarcasm or did not care, it was difficult to say. Following Valdemar’s lead, Valgar, Valance, and Valerie revealed their own faces as well.
“Your crimes are known and not in contention,” Valance said, velvet softness almost concealing the steel in his voice. “The three of us are giving you the opportunity to explain your actions on the off chance there might be extenuating circumstances before we deliver our sentence.”
Valentino’s head snapped to Valgar’s position, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “Just the three of you? Our dear leader has no part?” he sneered. Valgar did not look well. His face was drawn and haggard, his bountiful charisma having evaporated to the shallowest puddle of charm. Careful observation revealed that the tattooed man was leaning against the wall of the cell in support rather than nonchalance, as though it was some great effort to stand under his own power. Valentino correctly surmised it was the burden of the Mask of Hexor weighing upon him.
“I just want to kill you,” Valgar said through gritted teeth, hand flexing to grasp the grip of a rapier he was not wearing. “More than I’ve ever wanted to kill anyone or anything in my life. But I have been up to my neck cleaning up the shit you’ve left in your wake, and I have reason to believe my judgment is otherwise… compromised in another fashion. Consequently, I am incapable of acting impartially, and have recused myself from the process.”
“Val—Tino,” Valerie corrected herself, remembering at the last moment that Valgar had committed the unprecedented act of excommunicating Valentino from the Fierno clan. “Is there anything you want to say that you feel might mitigate our view of your actions?”
“You mean to ask was I in my right mind? Acting of my own volition, free of undue external influence?” Valentino –he still thought of himself by that name, regardless of Valgar’s insufferable speech about being unworthy of it, though he chalked it up to force of habit more than sentimentality towards this besotted lot of fools—asked. “An ironic line of inquiry considering your brother here is currently grafted to the essence of a god of war and tyranny,” he said, nodding at the scowling Valgar.
Failing to illicit further reaction, Valentino continued rhapsodizing. “But no, I was and am of perfectly sound mind. While you idiots were so inwardly focused on merry little japes and pranks on the aristocracy, I was envisioning a world transformed. With my superior intellect and the power of the deific aspects, I would be the architect of a glorious future, a scholar king to whom all would bend knee.”
The cords of muscle in Valance’s massive neck were knotted with rage, his knuckles clenched white with fury. His voice though, was as melodious and even as ever as he asked of their captive, “Do you even have the slightest clue how much devastation you have wrought in pursuit of your mad quest? The lives you have squandered?”
Valentino smiled a predatory grin and shrugged as best as he could in his restraints. “Omelets and eggs, and all that.”
The Fierno siblings exchanged glances with one another, Valdemar quietly shaking his head. Valentino’s recalcitrance was expected, but disappointing nonetheless. “Well then?” asked the shackled man. “Shall we proceed with the death sentence? Which of you will it be? Valgar, I presume? It would only make sense, you can positively smell the bloodlust emanating from his pores.”
“As much as I would enjoy nothing more,” Valgar confirmed, “we have a different fate in store for you. We’re going to release you.”
Valentino sported an incredulous smirk. Anything short of death was a guaranteed escape by him at some point, but clearly they were not about to let him off scott free like this. “My, how magnanimous!” he sneered. “What’s your endgame? You release me to a crowd of slavering orcish simpletons, upset about how I treated them? Will that keep your conscious clean and free of guilt? How positively spineless of you.”
“You will be released into my custody,” Valerie elaborated. “You will spend the rest of your days confined within the walls of Alydar. For your own protection, mind you.”
Valentino broke into overt laughter at this, doubling over as far as the chains would allow. “My protection? Tell me, Valerie, who will be protecting me? You? You, who are thwarted by a simple staircase, or perhaps a high shelf? Oh, this is rich! I assure you, I can very much take care of myself better than any of you could hope. Protection indeed.”
“No,” Valgar warned, “you can’t. Not once we’re done with you.”
Uncertainty flickered across Valentino’s face. “What on earth are you getting on about?”
Valdemar held aloft a stoppered bottle of black glass and made to examine it in the flickering torchlight. “Now,” he began, “I’m sure I’m not practicing alchemy at the same level you are, what with your head crammed full of divine revelation and all. But I think it’s fair to say I’m awfully good by conventional standards. I’ve been doing some work in concocting an adjuvant that augments the effects of certain kinds of poisons. I haven’t tested it out, but if my theory holds, all the healing powers of the world won’t free you from its effects. Presuming, of course, that you were able to find the follower of a god willing to intercede on your behalf in the first place.”
Things had taken a decidedly unexpected turn for Valentino. As surreptitiously as was possible given that he was under direct observation, he looped a length of the chain of his right hand around his wrist and gripped it tight. “What effects might that be?” he asked warily.
“This,” Valdemar said gravely as he flipped the stopper off the bottle with his thumb, “is a poison of feeblemindedness.”
Abject terror washed over Valentino’s face. “No!” he screamed, yanking his right hand forward and tearing the chain from the wall. “No no no!” Valance leaped into action with surprising speed for a man of his stature, grasping Valentino’s newly freed arm in one hand and pressing the mad genius’s head back against the wall with the other, forefinger and thumb pressing on his cheeks to keep his mouth pried open.
“Not this!” Valentino wailed. “Anything but this!”
“You’ve taken so much, Tino,” Valerie said as Valentino’s voice broke off into incoherent sobbing. “But you have no empathy, no heart. The only punishment we can mete out is to take away that which you value most.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing!” Valentino shrieked, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. “You don’t know what I know! Think of the knowledge you’re destroying! I know things, I’m the only one who knows these things! I can make the world a better place! I know about carbon fiber nanotubes, fusion reactors, interstellar travel, I kn—“ Valentino’s tirade was interrupted by Valdemar inserting the neck of the bottle between his lips, his voice metamorphosing into a muffled scream as the baneful draught poured down his gullet.
“Take your medicine, lad,” Valdemar said grimly, pinching Valentino’s nostrils shut to force him to swallow. Valentino thrashed violently for a moment, but his contortions gradually subsided as his eyes grew glassy and unfocused. Valance released his grip, and Valentino’s arm fell limply to the boy’s side as he stared in dumb disinterest at the people gathered around him.
Valgar hiked his hood over his head and slipped out of the cell. “I’ll see you all upstairs,” he said flatly as he stalked down the corridor to the exit, hand against the wall to keep him relatively upright as he went.
---
Valentino was escorted to the austere chambers that had been prepared for him, following along at the arm of a guard in stupefied compliance. With some assistance, he curled up in the plain bed and drifted off into the sleep of the addled, the first night of his new existence. Everything that Valentino had known --everything that could be said that Valentino was-- had been scoured away. It was not the solution they had hoped for, but in the end they had unanimously agreed that Valentino could not be confined, nor did they desire to see him dead, even after all he had done. Valdemar’s poison seemed a sufficiently acceptable middle ground position.
In the spacious parlor of the mansion, the remaining cognizant members of the Val Fierno namesake rejoined without being under the shadow of some nebulous, unknowable threat for the first time in what felt like ages, though a year had not yet passed. Valgar was collapsed into an overstuffed armchair, feebly rubbing his temples with his fingertips.
“Valgar, are you all right?” Valerie asked as she wheeled herself over to his seat.
“In a word, no,” Valgar replied sternly. “I am not. I am comforted though by the thought that I will be free of this damnable tattoo soon enough, however. Which brings me to an important topic that we must discuss.”
Valance and Valdemar joined Valerie by Valgar in his seat as Valgar elaborated. “Since this whole ordeal began, I have been consumed with a singular purpose; to remove the danger to our family and restore ourselves to our place in Ruby Keep. In the process, however, there has been a great deal of…” His voice drifted off as his gaze lingered for a moment on Valerie’s wheelchair. “There has been a great deal of changes in our lives. In the service of my goal, I have been caught up in a greater quest, so while I have accomplished all I have set out to do, there is a bit more that I must do before I may allow myself to stop. There is the very real possibility that I may not return from… whatever it is I must do.”
Valgar adjusted himself to sit up straighter in the seat as he addressed his surviving siblings. “We must decide what to do with what is left to us of the Val Fierno legacy. Valerie has expressed desire to set the name aside and continue the life she has built here in Alydar, which leaves me without knowledge of the intentions of my brothers.”
Valdemar seized the poker by the fireplace and idly stirred the warm flames. “Did you never find it odd that the old man never discussed his own family? Our childhood was steeped in tradition, the whole thesis of our operations is that it is a team effort. We surely had aunts and uncles, but we never knew of them. Why do you suppose that is?”
Valance nodded solemnly. “This is the end state of each generation of our family, Valgar,” he said. “Tino’s actions may have accelerated the process, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. Eventually there is only one who carries on the name while the others go their separate ways.”
A frown creased Valgar’s face. “I take it you both mean to set it aside as well?”
Valdemar shrugged. “We’ll always be there if you call upon us, Valgar. And should you not return, either Valance or myself will carry on in your stead. But you clearly want it far more than the rest of us.”
Valgar allowed himself a smile as he sank back into his chair. “Am I that transparent?” The other Fiernos shared varying degrees of stifled chortles in response. Somewhere in the depths of the mansion, a clock signaled the late hour with a resonating series of bongs. “I should get to sleep,” Valgar said as he staggered to unsteady feet. “I have an appointment tomorrow with the end of all things, and I must look my best.”
In the bowels of the mayor’s manse, the man formerly known as Valentino Fierno stared at a guttering torch through the heavy iron bars of his cell, the only source of light or heat in this dank cell. Though Valerie had ushered an administration of enlightenment and civility, it seemed that somewhere along the line of succession, the office of mayor had been occupied by something of a sadist. Or perhaps they merely served during generally sadistic times and were a product of their environment. In either event, Valerie was putting the small dungeon to good use containing the treacherous mastermind of the Arm of Vecna uprising while the rest of the family assembled in the considerably more comfortable environs above to decide his fate.
Valentino’s mind whirred. While he no longer had the power of the Monocle of Ioun within him, he still retained a great deal of the knowledge it had imparted to him during his brief access to it. The fools of this era had only the most rudimentary understandings of physics, metallurgy, and a whole host of other sciences. Valentino, by contrast, had become an expert in countless fields that had not even been dreamed of yet, let alone invented. An intellectual titan, towering far above his contemporaries, he could not possibly be restrained. Even bound to the wall in iron manacles as he was, his escape was inevitable on a timeline of sufficient length. It was only a question as to whether or not his erstwhile siblings would decide to kill him before he could do so. Knowing them as well as he did, however, he knew they would not. It had been a key part of his gamble to surrender when Valgar had defeated him, and thus far everything was working out precisely as anticipated.
He was already identifying weaknesses in the security routine that he could capitalize on. Rust on the bolt that held his chains into the wall, for instance; with the correct positioning and application of leverage, he could tear it free of the masonry with ease. A bar that wobbled every time the door to the cell swung open; once freed from the wall, he could pry it lose and slip through the gap with nary a trouble at all. Yes, his confinement was nothing but a bit of theater. He could escape the cell any time he pleased, at which point it would be trivial to escape the mansion, and from there escaping the city would be simplicity itself. After that, he would have to consider his next move, probably deciding upon killing Valgar and his damnable party of idiots just so they would no longer interfere. That would come later, though. For now, he had all the time in the world.
A voice down the hall dismissed the guard positioned outside the cell. Valentino lifted his head, interest piqued. This was a significant deviation from the schedule and protocol as he had observed it for the past week. The guard was not supposed to be relieved for another hour, and even then they were supposed to come down to the cell and take position before the previous guard left his post. Curious…
The mystery was solved when a small procession of hooded figures led by a massive man pushing a much smaller woman on a wheeled chair. There were four total, and despite the hidden faces no one harbored any doubt that their identities were not known. “What’s all this then?” Valentino sneered from the wall of his cell. “Are we putting the gang back together?”
“No,” sighed Valerie as she fit a key into the cell door and swung it inward. “We are here to pass our judgment on you.”
Valentino laughed bitterly as the four filed into the cell to form a rough semi circle around the prisoner. “What?” he asked of them in mock surprise, “Don’t I get a trial?”
“Those that live outside the boundaries of the law can scarcely expect due process,” explained the humorless Valdemar as he threw back his hood. Whether he did not catch Valentino’s sarcasm or did not care, it was difficult to say. Following Valdemar’s lead, Valgar, Valance, and Valerie revealed their own faces as well.
“Your crimes are known and not in contention,” Valance said, velvet softness almost concealing the steel in his voice. “The three of us are giving you the opportunity to explain your actions on the off chance there might be extenuating circumstances before we deliver our sentence.”
Valentino’s head snapped to Valgar’s position, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “Just the three of you? Our dear leader has no part?” he sneered. Valgar did not look well. His face was drawn and haggard, his bountiful charisma having evaporated to the shallowest puddle of charm. Careful observation revealed that the tattooed man was leaning against the wall of the cell in support rather than nonchalance, as though it was some great effort to stand under his own power. Valentino correctly surmised it was the burden of the Mask of Hexor weighing upon him.
“I just want to kill you,” Valgar said through gritted teeth, hand flexing to grasp the grip of a rapier he was not wearing. “More than I’ve ever wanted to kill anyone or anything in my life. But I have been up to my neck cleaning up the shit you’ve left in your wake, and I have reason to believe my judgment is otherwise… compromised in another fashion. Consequently, I am incapable of acting impartially, and have recused myself from the process.”
“Val—Tino,” Valerie corrected herself, remembering at the last moment that Valgar had committed the unprecedented act of excommunicating Valentino from the Fierno clan. “Is there anything you want to say that you feel might mitigate our view of your actions?”
“You mean to ask was I in my right mind? Acting of my own volition, free of undue external influence?” Valentino –he still thought of himself by that name, regardless of Valgar’s insufferable speech about being unworthy of it, though he chalked it up to force of habit more than sentimentality towards this besotted lot of fools—asked. “An ironic line of inquiry considering your brother here is currently grafted to the essence of a god of war and tyranny,” he said, nodding at the scowling Valgar.
Failing to illicit further reaction, Valentino continued rhapsodizing. “But no, I was and am of perfectly sound mind. While you idiots were so inwardly focused on merry little japes and pranks on the aristocracy, I was envisioning a world transformed. With my superior intellect and the power of the deific aspects, I would be the architect of a glorious future, a scholar king to whom all would bend knee.”
The cords of muscle in Valance’s massive neck were knotted with rage, his knuckles clenched white with fury. His voice though, was as melodious and even as ever as he asked of their captive, “Do you even have the slightest clue how much devastation you have wrought in pursuit of your mad quest? The lives you have squandered?”
Valentino smiled a predatory grin and shrugged as best as he could in his restraints. “Omelets and eggs, and all that.”
The Fierno siblings exchanged glances with one another, Valdemar quietly shaking his head. Valentino’s recalcitrance was expected, but disappointing nonetheless. “Well then?” asked the shackled man. “Shall we proceed with the death sentence? Which of you will it be? Valgar, I presume? It would only make sense, you can positively smell the bloodlust emanating from his pores.”
“As much as I would enjoy nothing more,” Valgar confirmed, “we have a different fate in store for you. We’re going to release you.”
Valentino sported an incredulous smirk. Anything short of death was a guaranteed escape by him at some point, but clearly they were not about to let him off scott free like this. “My, how magnanimous!” he sneered. “What’s your endgame? You release me to a crowd of slavering orcish simpletons, upset about how I treated them? Will that keep your conscious clean and free of guilt? How positively spineless of you.”
“You will be released into my custody,” Valerie elaborated. “You will spend the rest of your days confined within the walls of Alydar. For your own protection, mind you.”
Valentino broke into overt laughter at this, doubling over as far as the chains would allow. “My protection? Tell me, Valerie, who will be protecting me? You? You, who are thwarted by a simple staircase, or perhaps a high shelf? Oh, this is rich! I assure you, I can very much take care of myself better than any of you could hope. Protection indeed.”
“No,” Valgar warned, “you can’t. Not once we’re done with you.”
Uncertainty flickered across Valentino’s face. “What on earth are you getting on about?”
Valdemar held aloft a stoppered bottle of black glass and made to examine it in the flickering torchlight. “Now,” he began, “I’m sure I’m not practicing alchemy at the same level you are, what with your head crammed full of divine revelation and all. But I think it’s fair to say I’m awfully good by conventional standards. I’ve been doing some work in concocting an adjuvant that augments the effects of certain kinds of poisons. I haven’t tested it out, but if my theory holds, all the healing powers of the world won’t free you from its effects. Presuming, of course, that you were able to find the follower of a god willing to intercede on your behalf in the first place.”
Things had taken a decidedly unexpected turn for Valentino. As surreptitiously as was possible given that he was under direct observation, he looped a length of the chain of his right hand around his wrist and gripped it tight. “What effects might that be?” he asked warily.
“This,” Valdemar said gravely as he flipped the stopper off the bottle with his thumb, “is a poison of feeblemindedness.”
Abject terror washed over Valentino’s face. “No!” he screamed, yanking his right hand forward and tearing the chain from the wall. “No no no!” Valance leaped into action with surprising speed for a man of his stature, grasping Valentino’s newly freed arm in one hand and pressing the mad genius’s head back against the wall with the other, forefinger and thumb pressing on his cheeks to keep his mouth pried open.
“Not this!” Valentino wailed. “Anything but this!”
“You’ve taken so much, Tino,” Valerie said as Valentino’s voice broke off into incoherent sobbing. “But you have no empathy, no heart. The only punishment we can mete out is to take away that which you value most.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing!” Valentino shrieked, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. “You don’t know what I know! Think of the knowledge you’re destroying! I know things, I’m the only one who knows these things! I can make the world a better place! I know about carbon fiber nanotubes, fusion reactors, interstellar travel, I kn—“ Valentino’s tirade was interrupted by Valdemar inserting the neck of the bottle between his lips, his voice metamorphosing into a muffled scream as the baneful draught poured down his gullet.
“Take your medicine, lad,” Valdemar said grimly, pinching Valentino’s nostrils shut to force him to swallow. Valentino thrashed violently for a moment, but his contortions gradually subsided as his eyes grew glassy and unfocused. Valance released his grip, and Valentino’s arm fell limply to the boy’s side as he stared in dumb disinterest at the people gathered around him.
Valgar hiked his hood over his head and slipped out of the cell. “I’ll see you all upstairs,” he said flatly as he stalked down the corridor to the exit, hand against the wall to keep him relatively upright as he went.
---
Valentino was escorted to the austere chambers that had been prepared for him, following along at the arm of a guard in stupefied compliance. With some assistance, he curled up in the plain bed and drifted off into the sleep of the addled, the first night of his new existence. Everything that Valentino had known --everything that could be said that Valentino was-- had been scoured away. It was not the solution they had hoped for, but in the end they had unanimously agreed that Valentino could not be confined, nor did they desire to see him dead, even after all he had done. Valdemar’s poison seemed a sufficiently acceptable middle ground position.
In the spacious parlor of the mansion, the remaining cognizant members of the Val Fierno namesake rejoined without being under the shadow of some nebulous, unknowable threat for the first time in what felt like ages, though a year had not yet passed. Valgar was collapsed into an overstuffed armchair, feebly rubbing his temples with his fingertips.
“Valgar, are you all right?” Valerie asked as she wheeled herself over to his seat.
“In a word, no,” Valgar replied sternly. “I am not. I am comforted though by the thought that I will be free of this damnable tattoo soon enough, however. Which brings me to an important topic that we must discuss.”
Valance and Valdemar joined Valerie by Valgar in his seat as Valgar elaborated. “Since this whole ordeal began, I have been consumed with a singular purpose; to remove the danger to our family and restore ourselves to our place in Ruby Keep. In the process, however, there has been a great deal of…” His voice drifted off as his gaze lingered for a moment on Valerie’s wheelchair. “There has been a great deal of changes in our lives. In the service of my goal, I have been caught up in a greater quest, so while I have accomplished all I have set out to do, there is a bit more that I must do before I may allow myself to stop. There is the very real possibility that I may not return from… whatever it is I must do.”
Valgar adjusted himself to sit up straighter in the seat as he addressed his surviving siblings. “We must decide what to do with what is left to us of the Val Fierno legacy. Valerie has expressed desire to set the name aside and continue the life she has built here in Alydar, which leaves me without knowledge of the intentions of my brothers.”
Valdemar seized the poker by the fireplace and idly stirred the warm flames. “Did you never find it odd that the old man never discussed his own family? Our childhood was steeped in tradition, the whole thesis of our operations is that it is a team effort. We surely had aunts and uncles, but we never knew of them. Why do you suppose that is?”
Valance nodded solemnly. “This is the end state of each generation of our family, Valgar,” he said. “Tino’s actions may have accelerated the process, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. Eventually there is only one who carries on the name while the others go their separate ways.”
A frown creased Valgar’s face. “I take it you both mean to set it aside as well?”
Valdemar shrugged. “We’ll always be there if you call upon us, Valgar. And should you not return, either Valance or myself will carry on in your stead. But you clearly want it far more than the rest of us.”
Valgar allowed himself a smile as he sank back into his chair. “Am I that transparent?” The other Fiernos shared varying degrees of stifled chortles in response. Somewhere in the depths of the mansion, a clock signaled the late hour with a resonating series of bongs. “I should get to sleep,” Valgar said as he staggered to unsteady feet. “I have an appointment tomorrow with the end of all things, and I must look my best.”
((Motherfuck, I just now realized that I essentially "gentled" Valentino. Totally unintentional, but really speaks to how heavily the Gentlemen Bastard series has informed everything I write for Val. And here I thought I was being clever with his ironically horrible fate : / ))
KittenMaster
Member
((Good stuff, Val, I like the choice fate for him.))
ThLunarian
Member
((Nicely done, Mike. I'm going to assume that Val is ready to go for the end game. Whenever the rest of you are officially ready to proceed to the Point of No Return, please specify as much at the end of the appropriate post. Thanks))
DeadPhoenix
Member
Quintus, while showing Stanley around Aylder, and probably getting quite a few strange looks from the locales, asks "So Stanley, you got any preference on where you'd like to work? I think the mayor could always use an extra bodyguard, and I'm sure the town guard is always looking for new recruits. However if you are a bit of a risk taker, I bet the Klaus's Ranging Company could use someone like you. They are how I got my start and I know the current leader personally, though sadly my good friend Klaus is gone and victim of... nevermind."
Pristine_Condition
Member
[[Lurker note: Just wanted to congratulate y'all on some damn fine RP before the endgame.
LOVED the final assault (especially Munn's armor staking the heart of his vampire GF -- very cool) and these side quests/subplot wrap ups have been spectacular too.
Really enjoyed seeing Q heal the poor Ryno. As someone who once lost everything I own, (in a fire, not by being turned undead) I kinda feel for the guy. Hope he has a happy ending...like the goat!
Tarkus impresses me more and more. If we were allowed to vote half-orcs for public office, I'd want him to be the President. (But I know dealing with politicians would be a fate worse than death for him!)
Good fate for Tony Sta--er--Tino. Do hope this experience with the God of War dancing around in his head doesn't have any lingering effects on Val. Want him to get his normal swagger back.
Thanks again guys. It's been a fun ride as a reader.
Now, back to the good stuff...]]
LOVED the final assault (especially Munn's armor staking the heart of his vampire GF -- very cool) and these side quests/subplot wrap ups have been spectacular too.
Really enjoyed seeing Q heal the poor Ryno. As someone who once lost everything I own, (in a fire, not by being turned undead) I kinda feel for the guy. Hope he has a happy ending...like the goat!
Tarkus impresses me more and more. If we were allowed to vote half-orcs for public office, I'd want him to be the President. (But I know dealing with politicians would be a fate worse than death for him!)
Good fate for Tony Sta--er--Tino. Do hope this experience with the God of War dancing around in his head doesn't have any lingering effects on Val. Want him to get his normal swagger back.
Thanks again guys. It's been a fun ride as a reader.
Now, back to the good stuff...]]
Jackben
bitch I'm taking calls.
((Masterful stuff, Mike. And ty again for the compliments and views, P_C))
Tarkus pauses uncertainly while walking with Muun, having given his words some thought.
"Celia brave to venture to mortal world with you. Small but full of hope. Would count on her to follow you to whatever end. For Lucille..."
His brow furrows though he attempts to keep a hopeful look in his eyes as he places a hand upon the ranger's shoulder. "In truth, do not know. But will see to it you can see her alone...before we all assemble for final time."
((Tarkus is ready to land the airship/enter the nucleus/insert other point of no return from FF series.))
Tarkus pauses uncertainly while walking with Muun, having given his words some thought.
"Celia brave to venture to mortal world with you. Small but full of hope. Would count on her to follow you to whatever end. For Lucille..."
His brow furrows though he attempts to keep a hopeful look in his eyes as he places a hand upon the ranger's shoulder. "In truth, do not know. But will see to it you can see her alone...before we all assemble for final time."
((Tarkus is ready to land the airship/enter the nucleus/insert other point of no return from FF series.))
ThLunarian
Member
As Stanley is shown around town, he listens to Quintus explain some possible options for him. "Well, I don't know about being a ranger. I'm pretty good at being a guard, though. It's what I know, and I was doing it for years at the Watchers' Tower before.... well, you know. This place seems like it'd be pretty easy to guard. As long as it pays well, I--"
"Quintus!" a cheerful voice surprises the pair from behind. Valerie, also known as "Mayor Florentine", wheels up from behind. She seems to be inspecting the eight-foot-tall anthropomorphic rhino carefully. "How do you do? You simply must introduce me to your friend." She turns to and looks up at Stanley. "I am Florentine Bolero, and I'm the mayor of this town. I welcome you to Alydar, and hope that your stay here is pleasant."
No stranger to dealing with people who are significantly shorter than him (having worked extensively with halflings in the Tower), Stanley gets on one knee and takes Valerie's hand, kissing it daintily. "It's a pleasure, Your Honor," he says with surprising swagger. "I see you're friends with Quintus. He's actually showing me through your town because I think I may want to live here. We were talking about finding me work as a town guard."
Valerie is a little taken aback by the chivalrous display, and can't seem to take her eyes off of the rhino-man's body. "Oh... oh my," she swoons. "Well, as a matter of fact, a position has opened up in my Manse. I could use a personal bodyguard, if you're interested. The pay is quite competitive, and I can think of more than one way you'd be able to put those incredibly well-developed muscles to good use."
"I accept," Stanley says immediately and without reservation.
"Excellent! Quintus, I hope you don't mind my interrupting your tour. Stanley, follow me back to my mansion and we will hammer out the...ah... details."
Stanly stands up and takes the handles on Valerie's wheelchair, and together they walk/roll away. With that, Quintus is left to his own devices in town.
"Quintus!" a cheerful voice surprises the pair from behind. Valerie, also known as "Mayor Florentine", wheels up from behind. She seems to be inspecting the eight-foot-tall anthropomorphic rhino carefully. "How do you do? You simply must introduce me to your friend." She turns to and looks up at Stanley. "I am Florentine Bolero, and I'm the mayor of this town. I welcome you to Alydar, and hope that your stay here is pleasant."
No stranger to dealing with people who are significantly shorter than him (having worked extensively with halflings in the Tower), Stanley gets on one knee and takes Valerie's hand, kissing it daintily. "It's a pleasure, Your Honor," he says with surprising swagger. "I see you're friends with Quintus. He's actually showing me through your town because I think I may want to live here. We were talking about finding me work as a town guard."
Valerie is a little taken aback by the chivalrous display, and can't seem to take her eyes off of the rhino-man's body. "Oh... oh my," she swoons. "Well, as a matter of fact, a position has opened up in my Manse. I could use a personal bodyguard, if you're interested. The pay is quite competitive, and I can think of more than one way you'd be able to put those incredibly well-developed muscles to good use."
"I accept," Stanley says immediately and without reservation.
"Excellent! Quintus, I hope you don't mind my interrupting your tour. Stanley, follow me back to my mansion and we will hammer out the...ah... details."
Stanly stands up and takes the handles on Valerie's wheelchair, and together they walk/roll away. With that, Quintus is left to his own devices in town.
KittenMaster
Member
"I will make sure to visit her then."
Visit he shall.. when the two return to Alydar Muun makes his way to visit Lucille in private, knowing that he isn't ready to present the reality of the future to her but knows that there is no future window which he can do so.
Visit he shall.. when the two return to Alydar Muun makes his way to visit Lucille in private, knowing that he isn't ready to present the reality of the future to her but knows that there is no future window which he can do so.
ThLunarian
Member
Muun happens to catch Lucille during a break in her training. Lysa directs him to her quarters; her bunk mate happens to be out somewhere. It's a little jarring to see her in the tight- fitting leather vest and leggings of a junior ranger, with her hair tied back and all, but she seems incredibly happy to see Muun, and gives him a great big hug when he enters her room.
"Hi! Muun, you should see me out there! I' shooting bows, and learning how to knife fight, and how to survive in the wild on my own! It's awesome! How are things going with you?"
"Hi! Muun, you should see me out there! I' shooting bows, and learning how to knife fight, and how to survive in the wild on my own! It's awesome! How are things going with you?"
KittenMaster
Member
He smiles, placing hands on her upper arms as he answers, "It was a rough day, but we managed. I see that you've decided to learn to fight after all. Hopefully for you it'll be something you can enjoy rather than a necessity as it has been for me."
He looks over her new attire, seeming to show approval, "You look great too. The way you look, kind of reminds me of my own mentor even if her armor wasn't exactly the same."
He looks over her new attire, seeming to show approval, "You look great too. The way you look, kind of reminds me of my own mentor even if her armor wasn't exactly the same."
ThLunarian
Member
She smiles and blushes at the compliment. "Maybe you can tell me about her when we have more time. So what's happening? Did you guys get all the god-artifacts or whatever? Do you need me for something or were you just coming to say hi? I'm just glad to see you either way, but I know you guys have a mission so I don't wanna get in the way."
KittenMaster
Member
"About that..." His touch loosens as his arms fall to his sides, "We have been preparing for what it is to do with the artifacts, but... I am scared of what it means for you, being one of the artifacts."
He starts to look distressed as he unveils his thoughts, "I'm scared of what might happen if there was one more battle, but it was one we couldn't win. I am scared of what might happen even if we did win. I... I just don't know."
He starts to look distressed as he unveils his thoughts, "I'm scared of what might happen if there was one more battle, but it was one we couldn't win. I am scared of what might happen even if we did win. I... I just don't know."
ThLunarian
Member
Lucille grows more serious, following along with Muun, but her sheltered nature becomes evident, as even though she's trying hard, all she can do is act like she understands.
"I don't know either, Muun," she says. "I'm not scared, though. All my life I've been told I have some kind of destiny, and at the same time made to sit around and do nothing, holed up in the stupid castle. I'm ready to just get on with it, and if I come back, then great; we can be together. If not, then I don't have to worry about it - though I can't get hurt, so I can't see much going wrong.
"But if you're scared, then that's okay. I'm here with you, and we can get through it together, you know? Just promise me you won't be like this on our wedding night." She smiles and winks playfully at that last line.
"I don't know either, Muun," she says. "I'm not scared, though. All my life I've been told I have some kind of destiny, and at the same time made to sit around and do nothing, holed up in the stupid castle. I'm ready to just get on with it, and if I come back, then great; we can be together. If not, then I don't have to worry about it - though I can't get hurt, so I can't see much going wrong.
"But if you're scared, then that's okay. I'm here with you, and we can get through it together, you know? Just promise me you won't be like this on our wedding night." She smiles and winks playfully at that last line.
KittenMaster
Member
"You're a lot braver than I am then. I feel like most of my strength came from being a cornered animal a lot of times, lashing out in my cage.", perhaps an allegory to describe being stuck in Ravenloft, "But you're ready to welcome the worst."
"And I promise. By then, it'll all be over and there will be nothing that can overcome me then."
He reaches to embrace her, but he feels compelled to ask one more question, "This Hieroneous.. what is she to you?" Knowing that the gods and goddesses' souls are implanted within the relics, he asks, "Does it seem like someone watches over you from within?"
"And I promise. By then, it'll all be over and there will be nothing that can overcome me then."
He reaches to embrace her, but he feels compelled to ask one more question, "This Hieroneous.. what is she to you?" Knowing that the gods and goddesses' souls are implanted within the relics, he asks, "Does it seem like someone watches over you from within?"
ThLunarian
Member
Lucille chuckles. "Well actually, I think Heironeous is supposed to be a guy. I've never met him though. There's always been someone watching over me as I was growing up, but I don't know if I've ever felt a god looking out for me. Unless you count the invincibility thing I guess. Actually I guess that probably does count, doesn't it? So I guess yeah, he has been watching over me in his own way. I never thought about that before."
KittenMaster
Member
Her explanation isn't comforting, as he was hoping for the possibility that the souls were separate. He does his best not to show any more worry for her though, hoping that in all possibility some miracle will happen, "I see.. we plan on making our final trip to unite the relics soon, so you may need to get ready."
ThLunarian
Member
"Sure thing! I can't wait. Where are we going?" She immediately begins gathering her things in preparation for packing.
KittenMaster
Member
"I... don't know actually. I'm sure we'll be figuring that out once we meet with the others."
((And with that, Muun is ready.))
((And with that, Muun is ready.))
DeadPhoenix
Member
While he kinda expected Stanley would end up working for Valerie, Quintus didn't expect it to be the easy... or that weird, but then, who is he to judge?
((Quintus is ready to go, just need to to pick out his spells today...))
((Quintus is ready to go, just need to to pick out his spells today...))
ThLunarian
Member
((Note: Zynx will not be rejoining us. Avalyra is now an NPC for whom I will be responsible.))
Mood Music
You can't go on like this forever, you know, Hextor speaks into Val's mind, the morning after he and his siblings meted out justice to Tino. Though I must begrudgingly admit that I am, to a degree, impressed; you've lasted far, far longer than anyone else. In fact, I'm not sure that anyone else has even tried to resist the urge.
Hextor had simply not shut up since conjoining himself to Valgar, save perhaps during those precious few hours of sleep he was able to scrounge together over the past week. Val had had a hell of a time tuning him out during the gathering in Tino's cell, and had endured the profound disappointment in Hextor's voice once the whole ordeal had been finished.
Ahead in the town square, he sees that the others have already gathered. Punctuality had always been one of Val's strong suits, but lately those 'strong suits' have been deteriorating at an alarming rate. He forces himself to walk a little faster.
----
Waiting for Val to arrive, Quintus idly looks at the cursed gauntlet decorating his hand and forearm. At the same time ugly and impressive, the Hand of Vecna held perhaps the most abusable and terrible power of all the relics; the ability to bend any living being to your absolute will is a dangerous one indeed, and one that Quintus had been forced to use on more than one occasion. The blight it caused on his soul was enough to make it strictly a measure of last resort, but Clementine had proven that in the wrong hands, the havoc that could be wrought by such a device was immeasurable.
Though Vecna had occasionally found it prudent to communicate to Quintus in the same way that Hextor was now using the Mask to speak to Val, he had been strangely and noticeably silent ever since Avalyra had joined the group. Quintus has a very strong suspicion that Vecna wanted more than anything for Avalyra herself to wield the gauntlet. Although that was fairly obvious from the way it had willed itself into her bed during that night in Southport, there was more to it than that. Quintus suspects that Vecna's own feelings and desires were indirectly radiating out from the gauntlet, and he had been picking up on them.
Looking at Avalyra now, Quintus wonders just what it was that Vecna sees in the enigmatic psion.
Then there's the Belt of Ao, a relic that Quintus hadn't been wearing for very long, and one that seems to be resisting him with all its might. Although it is still bestowing Quintus with the fighting ability of a novice-level monk, he has a feeling that there is a great deal more to it that he'll never have a chance to discover.
----
Tarkus stands tall on a grassy portion of the town square. His feet are planted firmly on the ground, and he gazes intently at the clouds strolling through a mostly clear, blue sky. He feels the sun shining on him, feels the earth under his feet, breathes in the crisp morning air. Since his brief brush with death and his lengthy foray in the Astral Sea, Tarkus has made sure to never again take his five senses for granted, especially on a morning like this one, where there was so much uncertainty ahead.
Unlike some of the other relics that the party has collected, Fharlangh and Erythnul/Mayaheine had always preferred to stay out of the affairs of their artifacts' keeper. Tarkus had occasionally felt a twinge of satisfaction from the boots whenever he had been traveling in them for a long time, and whenever the Axe of Erythnul struck true on a worthy foe there had certainly been a supernatural surge of triumph, but for the most part the gods kept to themselves, and after seeing what Hextor is doing to Val these days, Tarkus supposes that he should be grateful for that.
---
Muun shuffles his feet anxiously, standing as close to Lucille as he can manage without crowding into her personal space. He is reticent to show his anxiety, but he supposes that it's spilling through all the same.
The Armor of Falling Leaves rests securely on Muun's abdomen, providing him protection that, ironically, he has hardly needed at all since acquiring it. It would have been a tremendous help in Ravenloft, during his days as a resistance fighter, but nowadays most of his battles have been spent behind the front lines, delivering long-ranged flaming arrows to the foes engaged in combat with his more melee-oriented companions.
Ehlonna had never chosen to speak to Muun directly through the armor; instead, she had sent Celia here, as Muun's trusty companion from the Astral Sea. Right now, the fairy-girl sits camped out on top of Muun's head, taking in the sights of a busy town square in a mostly-human town. To her, much of this world is still a curiosity, if not an outright mystery.
And, to tell the truth, Muun feels much the same way.
----
Val opens his mouth to ask for opinions on how exactly they should go about doing this, but he is cut short when he gets within ten feet of the rest of the party.
Somehow, inexplicably and without any recollection of having been teleported (at least, not in the same way that Quintus does it), everyone finds themselves in a lightly-wooded area, with trees that look grayish and half-dead. Quintus and Val recognize this as the Worm Woods - the location of the Wormwood Initiates' hideout; in fact, just over there is the false stump that serves as the entrance to their "headquarters", and over there is an ooze-creature much like the one that they'd defeated during their first trip here (it doesn't seem to react to the party's presence).
Tarkus recognizes this as the location where he witnessed the gods convene and draw up the Treaty of Worms, thanks to the visions bestowed upon him by the Raven Queen.
It Begins....
All the relics in the party's possession begin to glow. Quintus feels a tremendous surge of energy in his backpack, and suddenly the Treaty of Worms flies out on its own. It's glowing with a white-hot intensity, and it moves in front of Lucille, stopping as it faces her.
"What..?" she says. "What is this? How am I able to read it...? I..."
Suddenly a jolt of energy zaps from the glowing sheet of paper and into Lucille herself. She gasps in surprise, and her eyes widen; the zap continues for a good five seconds, and when the process is complete, the Treaty of Worms is incinerated into ashes that float quietly to the ground.
The ground immediately rumbles - not enough to knock anyone down, but enough to at least disrupt everyone's balance. Thunder and lightning crackle overhead. The sky spontaneously turns dark, and massive portals, each one of its own unique design and color, begin to open in the sky in the distance. Thousands and thousands of figures pour out of them and take up positions. The nature of these figures depends on the portal itself: some spew forth abyssal abominations; others spawn dragons of all shapes and sizes; squadrons of angelic warriors surge forth from still others.
Lucille manages to catch her breath, and she looks to the party. "I know what I have to do. Give me the Aspects so th---"
She suddenly freezes in place, apparently unable to move.
"Now now, Princess," say Quintus's lips, in a voice that's very unlike the archmage, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
Vecna, inhabiting Quintus's body, begins to walk nonchalantly among the party. "I must thank you, Valgar, for neutralizing your brother for me. He was well on his way to becoming a god in his own right, and none of us would've wanted that. And besides, I didn't like the way he was using my name to further his own cause. Call it arrogant if you wish, but I suppose that's a prerequisite to being a god, isn't it?"
Vecna looks at Avalyra and holds a hand out in her direction. "The time has come, my dear. Pelor's meddling has gone on long enough. Retake your rightful place at my side, so that we may rule the Astral Sea together!"
Avalyra's face contorts, and she clutches the sides of her head with both hands, suddenly emitting a scream of horror and falling to her knees. "No.... NO!! What have I done?!" she wails, and proceeds to have an emotional breakdown.
Quintus/Vecna looks upon her with disdain. "Well. That certainly didn't go according to plan. No matter, though. Why don't you all be a good little adventuring party and hand over the relics? You've been fantastic minions these past six months, and it would be a true shame to have to put an end to you."
Impossibly, Lucille manages to speak through whatever it is that Vecna has done to her. "I...Ignore him," she says weakly and with incredible effort, "Give... them.... to me!"
Final Battle Versus Vecna
((Aaaaand begin combat rounds. Except there's a caveat: your goal isn't to defeat Vecna; rather, your goal is to get Lucille equipped with all of your relics.
Special rules for this combat:
-Quintus must make a Will save each round in order to act. For the first round, the DC of the Will save is 15. That's going to increase steadily each round. If Quintus manages to take an action, this does NOT prevent Vecna from also taking an action in Quintus's body.
-Removing a relic that you have equipped or that someone else has equipped (NOTE: you can't use this rule to grab relics off of Quintus if you're not him), or taking a relic out of your bag or someone else's bag, takes one Move action (with the exceptions of the Axe/Shield, which is already in Tarkus's hands, and of course the tattoo, which can't be removed at all). If you're taking a relic from someone else, you have to be adjacent to that person.
-Since Quintus's ability to act each round is uncertain, at some point he may want to either drop or throw a relic that he's just unequipped. Dropping is a free action; throwing it to someone is a standard action that will automatically succeed in transferring ownership.
-Equipping a relic to Lucille takes a Move action.
-Only Muun is currently close enough to Lucille to equip her with something. Everyone else needs to get closer to her (which will take a Move action) in order to give her anything. Avalyra also is not close enough for anyone to get to the Rod of Pelor without first moving closer.
-You can try to delay or distract Vecna and run interference if you'd like; you aren't strictly limited to things involving the relics, even though that's the main goal of the battle. This will apply to Jack in particular, since he doesn't have any relics on him.
-Mechanically, this whole thing is kind of experimental, so I'm hoping you guys can dress it up with a good flavor in the event that the mechanics are awkward for whatever reason.
-No need to roll initiative; you all get to go first in this combat.
Good luck!))
Mood Music
You can't go on like this forever, you know, Hextor speaks into Val's mind, the morning after he and his siblings meted out justice to Tino. Though I must begrudgingly admit that I am, to a degree, impressed; you've lasted far, far longer than anyone else. In fact, I'm not sure that anyone else has even tried to resist the urge.
Hextor had simply not shut up since conjoining himself to Valgar, save perhaps during those precious few hours of sleep he was able to scrounge together over the past week. Val had had a hell of a time tuning him out during the gathering in Tino's cell, and had endured the profound disappointment in Hextor's voice once the whole ordeal had been finished.
Ahead in the town square, he sees that the others have already gathered. Punctuality had always been one of Val's strong suits, but lately those 'strong suits' have been deteriorating at an alarming rate. He forces himself to walk a little faster.
----
Waiting for Val to arrive, Quintus idly looks at the cursed gauntlet decorating his hand and forearm. At the same time ugly and impressive, the Hand of Vecna held perhaps the most abusable and terrible power of all the relics; the ability to bend any living being to your absolute will is a dangerous one indeed, and one that Quintus had been forced to use on more than one occasion. The blight it caused on his soul was enough to make it strictly a measure of last resort, but Clementine had proven that in the wrong hands, the havoc that could be wrought by such a device was immeasurable.
Though Vecna had occasionally found it prudent to communicate to Quintus in the same way that Hextor was now using the Mask to speak to Val, he had been strangely and noticeably silent ever since Avalyra had joined the group. Quintus has a very strong suspicion that Vecna wanted more than anything for Avalyra herself to wield the gauntlet. Although that was fairly obvious from the way it had willed itself into her bed during that night in Southport, there was more to it than that. Quintus suspects that Vecna's own feelings and desires were indirectly radiating out from the gauntlet, and he had been picking up on them.
Looking at Avalyra now, Quintus wonders just what it was that Vecna sees in the enigmatic psion.
Then there's the Belt of Ao, a relic that Quintus hadn't been wearing for very long, and one that seems to be resisting him with all its might. Although it is still bestowing Quintus with the fighting ability of a novice-level monk, he has a feeling that there is a great deal more to it that he'll never have a chance to discover.
----
Tarkus stands tall on a grassy portion of the town square. His feet are planted firmly on the ground, and he gazes intently at the clouds strolling through a mostly clear, blue sky. He feels the sun shining on him, feels the earth under his feet, breathes in the crisp morning air. Since his brief brush with death and his lengthy foray in the Astral Sea, Tarkus has made sure to never again take his five senses for granted, especially on a morning like this one, where there was so much uncertainty ahead.
Unlike some of the other relics that the party has collected, Fharlangh and Erythnul/Mayaheine had always preferred to stay out of the affairs of their artifacts' keeper. Tarkus had occasionally felt a twinge of satisfaction from the boots whenever he had been traveling in them for a long time, and whenever the Axe of Erythnul struck true on a worthy foe there had certainly been a supernatural surge of triumph, but for the most part the gods kept to themselves, and after seeing what Hextor is doing to Val these days, Tarkus supposes that he should be grateful for that.
---
Muun shuffles his feet anxiously, standing as close to Lucille as he can manage without crowding into her personal space. He is reticent to show his anxiety, but he supposes that it's spilling through all the same.
The Armor of Falling Leaves rests securely on Muun's abdomen, providing him protection that, ironically, he has hardly needed at all since acquiring it. It would have been a tremendous help in Ravenloft, during his days as a resistance fighter, but nowadays most of his battles have been spent behind the front lines, delivering long-ranged flaming arrows to the foes engaged in combat with his more melee-oriented companions.
Ehlonna had never chosen to speak to Muun directly through the armor; instead, she had sent Celia here, as Muun's trusty companion from the Astral Sea. Right now, the fairy-girl sits camped out on top of Muun's head, taking in the sights of a busy town square in a mostly-human town. To her, much of this world is still a curiosity, if not an outright mystery.
And, to tell the truth, Muun feels much the same way.
----
Val opens his mouth to ask for opinions on how exactly they should go about doing this, but he is cut short when he gets within ten feet of the rest of the party.
Somehow, inexplicably and without any recollection of having been teleported (at least, not in the same way that Quintus does it), everyone finds themselves in a lightly-wooded area, with trees that look grayish and half-dead. Quintus and Val recognize this as the Worm Woods - the location of the Wormwood Initiates' hideout; in fact, just over there is the false stump that serves as the entrance to their "headquarters", and over there is an ooze-creature much like the one that they'd defeated during their first trip here (it doesn't seem to react to the party's presence).
Tarkus recognizes this as the location where he witnessed the gods convene and draw up the Treaty of Worms, thanks to the visions bestowed upon him by the Raven Queen.
It Begins....
All the relics in the party's possession begin to glow. Quintus feels a tremendous surge of energy in his backpack, and suddenly the Treaty of Worms flies out on its own. It's glowing with a white-hot intensity, and it moves in front of Lucille, stopping as it faces her.
"What..?" she says. "What is this? How am I able to read it...? I..."
Suddenly a jolt of energy zaps from the glowing sheet of paper and into Lucille herself. She gasps in surprise, and her eyes widen; the zap continues for a good five seconds, and when the process is complete, the Treaty of Worms is incinerated into ashes that float quietly to the ground.
The ground immediately rumbles - not enough to knock anyone down, but enough to at least disrupt everyone's balance. Thunder and lightning crackle overhead. The sky spontaneously turns dark, and massive portals, each one of its own unique design and color, begin to open in the sky in the distance. Thousands and thousands of figures pour out of them and take up positions. The nature of these figures depends on the portal itself: some spew forth abyssal abominations; others spawn dragons of all shapes and sizes; squadrons of angelic warriors surge forth from still others.
Lucille manages to catch her breath, and she looks to the party. "I know what I have to do. Give me the Aspects so th---"
She suddenly freezes in place, apparently unable to move.
"Now now, Princess," say Quintus's lips, in a voice that's very unlike the archmage, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
Vecna, inhabiting Quintus's body, begins to walk nonchalantly among the party. "I must thank you, Valgar, for neutralizing your brother for me. He was well on his way to becoming a god in his own right, and none of us would've wanted that. And besides, I didn't like the way he was using my name to further his own cause. Call it arrogant if you wish, but I suppose that's a prerequisite to being a god, isn't it?"
Vecna looks at Avalyra and holds a hand out in her direction. "The time has come, my dear. Pelor's meddling has gone on long enough. Retake your rightful place at my side, so that we may rule the Astral Sea together!"
Avalyra's face contorts, and she clutches the sides of her head with both hands, suddenly emitting a scream of horror and falling to her knees. "No.... NO!! What have I done?!" she wails, and proceeds to have an emotional breakdown.
Quintus/Vecna looks upon her with disdain. "Well. That certainly didn't go according to plan. No matter, though. Why don't you all be a good little adventuring party and hand over the relics? You've been fantastic minions these past six months, and it would be a true shame to have to put an end to you."
Impossibly, Lucille manages to speak through whatever it is that Vecna has done to her. "I...Ignore him," she says weakly and with incredible effort, "Give... them.... to me!"
Final Battle Versus Vecna
((Aaaaand begin combat rounds. Except there's a caveat: your goal isn't to defeat Vecna; rather, your goal is to get Lucille equipped with all of your relics.
Special rules for this combat:
-Quintus must make a Will save each round in order to act. For the first round, the DC of the Will save is 15. That's going to increase steadily each round. If Quintus manages to take an action, this does NOT prevent Vecna from also taking an action in Quintus's body.
-Removing a relic that you have equipped or that someone else has equipped (NOTE: you can't use this rule to grab relics off of Quintus if you're not him), or taking a relic out of your bag or someone else's bag, takes one Move action (with the exceptions of the Axe/Shield, which is already in Tarkus's hands, and of course the tattoo, which can't be removed at all). If you're taking a relic from someone else, you have to be adjacent to that person.
-Since Quintus's ability to act each round is uncertain, at some point he may want to either drop or throw a relic that he's just unequipped. Dropping is a free action; throwing it to someone is a standard action that will automatically succeed in transferring ownership.
-Equipping a relic to Lucille takes a Move action.
-Only Muun is currently close enough to Lucille to equip her with something. Everyone else needs to get closer to her (which will take a Move action) in order to give her anything. Avalyra also is not close enough for anyone to get to the Rod of Pelor without first moving closer.
-You can try to delay or distract Vecna and run interference if you'd like; you aren't strictly limited to things involving the relics, even though that's the main goal of the battle. This will apply to Jack in particular, since he doesn't have any relics on him.
-Mechanically, this whole thing is kind of experimental, so I'm hoping you guys can dress it up with a good flavor in the event that the mechanics are awkward for whatever reason.
-No need to roll initiative; you all get to go first in this combat.
Good luck!))
KittenMaster
Member
((I thought it would be a given considering I bought new armor, but I thought Muun wouldn't be wearing Ehlonna's armor to begin with?))
ThLunarian
Member
((Eh, yeah that's a good, fair point. Muun can already have Ehlonna's armor in his hands. That's the only exception I'll allow though. For everyone else, if you're not wearing it then it's stowed away in your pack, so mechanically it won't make a difference.))
KittenMaster
Member
Muun gazes up in horror as the darkness and the denizens thereof begin to fill the skies. The trembling he feels is something he is unsure whether it is of the earth quaking or his own body. He begins to cry out, "No.. no! This is just like Ravenloft! W-why!?"
Turning to Lucille he tries to shake her out of her paralysis, when he hears begin soft, before rising to command for him, "Give... them.... to me!"
Grasping the armor and his knife, he quickly slices off the leather straps that hold her in the inferior leather armor and then he pulls up her arms so that he can fit her in the Armor of Falling Leaves, "The goddess has protected me enough, now I beg Ehlonna... Please help me protect Lucille!"
Turning to Lucille he tries to shake her out of her paralysis, when he hears begin soft, before rising to command for him, "Give... them.... to me!"
Grasping the armor and his knife, he quickly slices off the leather straps that hold her in the inferior leather armor and then he pulls up her arms so that he can fit her in the Armor of Falling Leaves, "The goddess has protected me enough, now I beg Ehlonna... Please help me protect Lucille!"
ThLunarian
Member
((Oh also, I should make it clear that everyone has 2 move actions per turn, or one move and one standard. So Muun can take another move action this turn if he'd like))
KittenMaster
Member
((Muun is gonna stay by her side, because love trumps all intelligent and wise tactics that I should actually be employing.))
KittenMaster
Member
((Oh wait, standard actions. Hmm. Not even sure what I can do with one though.))
KittenMaster
Member
((Sorry about the triple post, but it just occurred to me that I can drag Lucille and bring her closer to the others just like Suvne helped Sarm that one time, so if that's an allowed Move or Standard action I will do that since that seems the most sensible both in character and as an action.))
ThLunarian
Member
((D'oh. The monocle's location was never specified and I honestly forgot to consider where it was, so whoever decides to try and pull it out first, we'll say that that person has it. My bad, y'all.
Dragging Lucille will be a full-round action, requiring expending both Move and Standard, so Muun can't do that this round but will be able to on the next.))
Dragging Lucille will be a full-round action, requiring expending both Move and Standard, so Muun can't do that this round but will be able to on the next.))
DeadPhoenix
Member
Will save: (1d20+17=29)
"Nice try Vecna, but as powerful as you may be, my body is my own!" Quintus shouts in triumph, hopefully hide his fear from his companions and Vecna, as he attempts to pull off the Arm and tosses it to Lucille.
((I wanted to see if the monocle would do anything for Quitnus... but that kinda got lost in the end of the battle stuff. Guess its a bit late now, oh well.))
"Nice try Vecna, but as powerful as you may be, my body is my own!" Quintus shouts in triumph, hopefully hide his fear from his companions and Vecna, as he attempts to pull off the Arm and tosses it to Lucille.
((I wanted to see if the monocle would do anything for Quitnus... but that kinda got lost in the end of the battle stuff. Guess its a bit late now, oh well.))
ThLunarian
Member
((Lucille is frozen in place so she can't exactly catch anything, but Muun had an action remaining, so you can throw it to him and he can put it on her with that action, so it's effectively the same thing. Just saying this to point out for everyone else that as long as she is frozen like she is (and it seems to be a Hold Person spell or some other variant), it's not a good idea to toss anything directly to her))
KittenMaster
Member
((Can I take lucille's hand to grasp the hand of vecna?))
Jackben
bitch I'm taking calls.
((Perfect music choice, thLunarian.))
Tarkus covers his eyes as the embers and ashes of the Wormwood Treaty are blown past his face and into the darkening sky. As he slowly lowers his plated arm, his yellowed eyes widen in horror. The serene nature of the autumn woods has been transformed into a hellish apocalypse. As the ground quakes and the sky is torn apart, each rend opens a wound in the realm, shimmering portals of different colors and sizes bleeding demons, angels and dragons into their world.
With all the speed he can muster the half-orc barrels toward Lucille, tearing through the dead leaves and forest foliage. Taking a position on her left side opposite Muun, he closes his eyes and channels the power of the relic axe/shield one last time. Desperately, he calls upon the goddess of divine magic and protection:
“Goddess Mayaheine, this warrior soul begs you protect child of Heironeous…from your most treacherous of peers!”
As he moves with haste to strap the newly transformed shield to Lucille’s arm, Tarkus looks upon Muun, and something is snapped inside of him by the fear and despair in his ranger comrade’s eyes. Shaking with rage, he roars in defiance of Vecna and anger at his own failure to act upon his mistrust of the god of secrets sooner.
As he finishes tying the leather strap onto Lucille's arm, he turns to face Vecna/Quintus. Managing to steady his breath and channel his energy into adrenaline, he stands tall in front of the ranger and avatar of Heironeous. “Vecna…surely most lowly and cowardly of gods: should you not be destroyed with us all, shall do everything to see your place rest with likes of Set for all eternity. “
((My plan is to stay here until Tarkus has given all his relics to Lucille, then possibly grapple Quintus or can assist Muun in equipping Lucille with more relics. Afraid of the AOE attacks that might occur if we are too clumped together though.))
Tarkus covers his eyes as the embers and ashes of the Wormwood Treaty are blown past his face and into the darkening sky. As he slowly lowers his plated arm, his yellowed eyes widen in horror. The serene nature of the autumn woods has been transformed into a hellish apocalypse. As the ground quakes and the sky is torn apart, each rend opens a wound in the realm, shimmering portals of different colors and sizes bleeding demons, angels and dragons into their world.
With all the speed he can muster the half-orc barrels toward Lucille, tearing through the dead leaves and forest foliage. Taking a position on her left side opposite Muun, he closes his eyes and channels the power of the relic axe/shield one last time. Desperately, he calls upon the goddess of divine magic and protection:
“Goddess Mayaheine, this warrior soul begs you protect child of Heironeous…from your most treacherous of peers!”
As he moves with haste to strap the newly transformed shield to Lucille’s arm, Tarkus looks upon Muun, and something is snapped inside of him by the fear and despair in his ranger comrade’s eyes. Shaking with rage, he roars in defiance of Vecna and anger at his own failure to act upon his mistrust of the god of secrets sooner.
As he finishes tying the leather strap onto Lucille's arm, he turns to face Vecna/Quintus. Managing to steady his breath and channel his energy into adrenaline, he stands tall in front of the ranger and avatar of Heironeous. “Vecna…surely most lowly and cowardly of gods: should you not be destroyed with us all, shall do everything to see your place rest with likes of Set for all eternity. “
((My plan is to stay here until Tarkus has given all his relics to Lucille, then possibly grapple Quintus or can assist Muun in equipping Lucille with more relics. Afraid of the AOE attacks that might occur if we are too clumped together though.))
KittenMaster
Member
((Based on Tarkus' post I might not want to give Lucille the hand yet (I don't even think I can either way, just touching it would zombify me)? What do you guys think?))
DeadPhoenix
Member
((I don't think that can happen unless someone is actually wearing it... Which is why you might wanna put it on Lucille in case Vecna still has enough control of Quintus' body to move him over there and put back on the Hand.))
((Handling the Hand has been safe in the past, and wouldn't we need to equip that before anything she'd hold in her hands anyway? I'm more concerned about the fangs, but I'm sure she's got plot armor to prevent her from becoming invincible Set. Tattoo will probably need to go last : /))
KittenMaster
Member
((Sarm would disagree with the "hand is safe to handle bit", but either way it might be best to get all of the good aligned items equipped first so the evil ones don't completely take over.))
((About to hit the road, so I won't be able to do a full write up for a few hours. Thinking a few possibilities:
1. Val pulls out the Monocle, gives it to Jack, moves to Avalyra in anticipation of getting the Rod on the next round. Jack double moves to get the Monocle on Lucille.
2. Jack takes the Monocle out of Val's bag, throws it to Takrus (Who I believe has a standard action left to get it on Lucille?), Val double moves to get the Rod from Avalyra, toss it to Jack, who moves towards Lucille.
3. Same as 2, but Jack and Val switch places.))
1. Val pulls out the Monocle, gives it to Jack, moves to Avalyra in anticipation of getting the Rod on the next round. Jack double moves to get the Monocle on Lucille.
2. Jack takes the Monocle out of Val's bag, throws it to Takrus (Who I believe has a standard action left to get it on Lucille?), Val double moves to get the Rod from Avalyra, toss it to Jack, who moves towards Lucille.
3. Same as 2, but Jack and Val switch places.))
ThLunarian
Member
((I'll throw you guys a bone and state that merely holding the Hand without wearing it doesn't have any mechanical effects (unless you're Sarm and are already in possession of the Rod, but that doesn't apply here), and putting the Hand on Lucille does not seem to have any ill effects on her at all. It's also pliable enough that she'll be able to hold something in that hand as well (ie, the Rod). There are no other hand/arm slot relics beyond the Hand, the Shield, and the Rod, so you guys shouldn't run into any slot conflict issues.
Tarkus does not have any moves left over this round, though. His first Move was getting to Lucille, and his second Move was strapping the shield to her arm))
Tarkus does not have any moves left over this round, though. His first Move was getting to Lucille, and his second Move was strapping the shield to her arm))
KittenMaster
Member
((Alright, so I guess it should be safe for Muun to use his 2nd move action to give her the Hand then?))
ThLunarian
Member
((Yep, that's the idea))
Val nearly falls to his knees when he sees the fabric of reality unzip itself and vomit forth the unfathomable hoarde of extraplanar beings. While he was aware of his place in the universe in a strictly academic sense, having it all put into such stark perspective in an instant is almost enough to shatter his sanity.
"Valgar."
His tenuous grasp on his mind is further threatened by Vecna's possession of Quintus and his interference in the assembly of the relics. This entire time, Val had taken Vecna at his word that the dark god had sought to assemble the relics for the good of all existence. It had seemed logical enough for a god of schemes to value placing his own self-preservation above all other concerns. Val was a damnable fool to not have seen this coming, he should have realized from the moment Valentino revealed himself that Vecna was dealing only in half truths at best.
"Valgar."
The Mask of Hextor has gone from being a beneficial addition to his being to being a malevolent parasite, sapping his strength. A gluttonous guest that has overstayed their welcome, taking to consuming their host when the larder runs empty. He had counted entirely on assembling the relics without complications, certain that the last of the obstacles had been surmounted. The idea that they should fail here, on the verge of success...
"Valgar."
Val grows aware that someone is calling his name and manages to pull together enough of his cognitive abilities to function once more. His sight comes into focus and he sees the glowing blue eyes of Jack standing a few paces away.
"Valgar," the android repeats once more with infinite patience.
"Jack," Valgar responds, his head whipping back and forth between Quintus/Vecna, Avalyra, and the crowd assembling around the paralyzed Lucille attempting to strap the relics into place. His mind spins, trying to find purchase and concoct a plan of attack.
"Valgar, we need to distribute the remaining relics between us to distribute the odds of drawing attack from Vecna," Jack explains, holding out his hand. "Quickly, give me one of them."
Val nods in agreement, reaching into his bag and pulling out the Monocle of Ioun. He was never any good at throwing anything, and with his failing strength... He puts his faith into whatever gods might be watching right now and hurls the Monocle with all his meager might, watching in despair as it flips end over end and describes a parabolic arc going nowhere near Jack.
Jack's arm pivots smoothly and effortlessly at the shoulder to intercept the wayward relic in the air. Wrapping his metal fingers around the precious payload, he sprints to Lucille, his heels striking sparks on the occasional stone protruding from the earth. With unnerving swiftness yet unerring accuracy, he places the Monocle on place upon her eye. Looking between Tarkus and Muun, he says, "It is inadvisable that we maintain such close proximity to one another, our chances of success are increased if we maintain distance from one another."
Jack looks up at Lucille for a beat, and offers a surprisingly human addendum to his analysis. "Or we could take shelter behind the invincible princess."
Val, meanwhile rushes over to Avalyra, who seems to have been less successful than he at keeping her sanity in one piece. Val grabs her by the shoulders and tries to shake her out of it. "Avalyra! Avalyra, pull yourself together! You have to get the Rod to Lucille, do you hear me? You have to get the Rod to Lucille!"
When Avalyra doesn't respond, Val turns to the only hope he has left, as vain as it may be. I know we didn't exactly see eye-to-eye on the whole world domination thing, Val directs inwardly to the portion of Hextor he knows is stowing away in his mind, but I think we both know that you don't want Vecna of all people ruling the Astral Sea. First rule of losing is that you still try to keep the other guy from winning, and we can't do that unless you tell me what to do!
"Valgar."
His tenuous grasp on his mind is further threatened by Vecna's possession of Quintus and his interference in the assembly of the relics. This entire time, Val had taken Vecna at his word that the dark god had sought to assemble the relics for the good of all existence. It had seemed logical enough for a god of schemes to value placing his own self-preservation above all other concerns. Val was a damnable fool to not have seen this coming, he should have realized from the moment Valentino revealed himself that Vecna was dealing only in half truths at best.
"Valgar."
The Mask of Hextor has gone from being a beneficial addition to his being to being a malevolent parasite, sapping his strength. A gluttonous guest that has overstayed their welcome, taking to consuming their host when the larder runs empty. He had counted entirely on assembling the relics without complications, certain that the last of the obstacles had been surmounted. The idea that they should fail here, on the verge of success...
"Valgar."
Val grows aware that someone is calling his name and manages to pull together enough of his cognitive abilities to function once more. His sight comes into focus and he sees the glowing blue eyes of Jack standing a few paces away.
"Valgar," the android repeats once more with infinite patience.
"Jack," Valgar responds, his head whipping back and forth between Quintus/Vecna, Avalyra, and the crowd assembling around the paralyzed Lucille attempting to strap the relics into place. His mind spins, trying to find purchase and concoct a plan of attack.
"Valgar, we need to distribute the remaining relics between us to distribute the odds of drawing attack from Vecna," Jack explains, holding out his hand. "Quickly, give me one of them."
Val nods in agreement, reaching into his bag and pulling out the Monocle of Ioun. He was never any good at throwing anything, and with his failing strength... He puts his faith into whatever gods might be watching right now and hurls the Monocle with all his meager might, watching in despair as it flips end over end and describes a parabolic arc going nowhere near Jack.
Jack's arm pivots smoothly and effortlessly at the shoulder to intercept the wayward relic in the air. Wrapping his metal fingers around the precious payload, he sprints to Lucille, his heels striking sparks on the occasional stone protruding from the earth. With unnerving swiftness yet unerring accuracy, he places the Monocle on place upon her eye. Looking between Tarkus and Muun, he says, "It is inadvisable that we maintain such close proximity to one another, our chances of success are increased if we maintain distance from one another."
Jack looks up at Lucille for a beat, and offers a surprisingly human addendum to his analysis. "Or we could take shelter behind the invincible princess."
Val, meanwhile rushes over to Avalyra, who seems to have been less successful than he at keeping her sanity in one piece. Val grabs her by the shoulders and tries to shake her out of it. "Avalyra! Avalyra, pull yourself together! You have to get the Rod to Lucille, do you hear me? You have to get the Rod to Lucille!"
When Avalyra doesn't respond, Val turns to the only hope he has left, as vain as it may be. I know we didn't exactly see eye-to-eye on the whole world domination thing, Val directs inwardly to the portion of Hextor he knows is stowing away in his mind, but I think we both know that you don't want Vecna of all people ruling the Astral Sea. First rule of losing is that you still try to keep the other guy from winning, and we can't do that unless you tell me what to do!
ThLunarian
Member
((Vecna casts a Quickened Slow on everyone except for Quintus. DC 20 Will save to resist.
He then attempts to drain the life force out of Val. Val must make a DC 20 Fortitude save. If he makes the save, he takes 50 Negative Energy damage. If he fails the save, he takes 100.
Val's penalties to Strength and Charisma go away and are replaced by the +4 bonuses from before.
Quintus's Will Save DC to be able to take actions this turn increases to 20.
Since Jack, Muun, and Tarkus are all standing in a crowd around Lucille, I will allow a direct transfer of held items between the three of them as a free action.))
"A valiant effort, Quintus," Vecna intones, "But getting rid of my Hand won't expel me from your body. I've had more than enough time to get to know you over these last few months; your body is a vessel that I will use as I see fit. Now observe, as I take away what little hope your insolent friends have left."
Vecna waves his hand, and suddenly the entire party starts to feel sluggish, as their energy seems to be draining out of them. Not content to stop there, he turns his head to Val.
"I never lied to you, you know," he says defensively. "Forgive me for reading your thoughts, but it's so damned easy, there's really no reason not to.
"I chose my language very carefully when we made our pact; you're the one who assumed your brother was dead. I simply chose not to upend that assumption. And I certainly never claimed to want to save the multiverse by gathering the Aspects. I merely stated that I wished to see them gathered. I thought it obvious that I intended to use them for my own ends.
"But really, all that's a moot point now. Even had you chosen to cooperate with me and join my new world order, I'd still have no choice but to kill you. How else should I expect to acquire the soul of Hextor?" He points a finger at Val, and Val feels not just his energy, but his very life force seeping out of him at an alarming rate.
I've never liked that treacherous son of a bitch, Hextor speaks into Val's mind. And I can't deny the truth of what you say. Very well; I will grant you the full powers of my Mask for the time being. Use them well, and pray that Heironeous's little bitch is the one to land the finishing blow.
On the other side of the relatively small battlefield, Tarkus, Muun, and Jack work furiously to get the Relics fastened to Lucille. Though they make sure to secure each of them with the requisite straps and buckles, it seems to be unnecessary; each of the relics is naturally attracted to her, latching on and very nearly becoming a part of her as they're put into place. With three of the eight physical relics securely latched on, she begins to wiggle slightly, attempting to get out of her frozen state but not quite there yet.
"The boots," she says, her voice a little stronger now than last time. "Give me the boots! Hurry!"
Overhead, the skies continue to fill with the armies of the gods, with no end in sight. Rather than clashing, they seem to be mobilizing and fortifying, for some unknown purpose. It's far more than just demons, angels, and dragons, too; any sort of magical flying beast you can think of can be spotted if you look hard enough.
((Begin Round 2))
He then attempts to drain the life force out of Val. Val must make a DC 20 Fortitude save. If he makes the save, he takes 50 Negative Energy damage. If he fails the save, he takes 100.
Val's penalties to Strength and Charisma go away and are replaced by the +4 bonuses from before.
Quintus's Will Save DC to be able to take actions this turn increases to 20.
Since Jack, Muun, and Tarkus are all standing in a crowd around Lucille, I will allow a direct transfer of held items between the three of them as a free action.))
"A valiant effort, Quintus," Vecna intones, "But getting rid of my Hand won't expel me from your body. I've had more than enough time to get to know you over these last few months; your body is a vessel that I will use as I see fit. Now observe, as I take away what little hope your insolent friends have left."
Vecna waves his hand, and suddenly the entire party starts to feel sluggish, as their energy seems to be draining out of them. Not content to stop there, he turns his head to Val.
"I never lied to you, you know," he says defensively. "Forgive me for reading your thoughts, but it's so damned easy, there's really no reason not to.
"I chose my language very carefully when we made our pact; you're the one who assumed your brother was dead. I simply chose not to upend that assumption. And I certainly never claimed to want to save the multiverse by gathering the Aspects. I merely stated that I wished to see them gathered. I thought it obvious that I intended to use them for my own ends.
"But really, all that's a moot point now. Even had you chosen to cooperate with me and join my new world order, I'd still have no choice but to kill you. How else should I expect to acquire the soul of Hextor?" He points a finger at Val, and Val feels not just his energy, but his very life force seeping out of him at an alarming rate.
I've never liked that treacherous son of a bitch, Hextor speaks into Val's mind. And I can't deny the truth of what you say. Very well; I will grant you the full powers of my Mask for the time being. Use them well, and pray that Heironeous's little bitch is the one to land the finishing blow.
On the other side of the relatively small battlefield, Tarkus, Muun, and Jack work furiously to get the Relics fastened to Lucille. Though they make sure to secure each of them with the requisite straps and buckles, it seems to be unnecessary; each of the relics is naturally attracted to her, latching on and very nearly becoming a part of her as they're put into place. With three of the eight physical relics securely latched on, she begins to wiggle slightly, attempting to get out of her frozen state but not quite there yet.
"The boots," she says, her voice a little stronger now than last time. "Give me the boots! Hurry!"
Overhead, the skies continue to fill with the armies of the gods, with no end in sight. Rather than clashing, they seem to be mobilizing and fortifying, for some unknown purpose. It's far more than just demons, angels, and dragons, too; any sort of magical flying beast you can think of can be spotted if you look hard enough.
((Begin Round 2))
KittenMaster
Member
Muun catches the Hand of Vecna in midair.. but seems hesitant to put it on Lucille, "But.. this is a relic of the god responsible for the tradegies of my homeworld... To put it on Lucille.."
But then Lucille continues to opt to reassure him that it'll be okay. Darting his gaze up, Vecna announces his ability to control Quintis without having the hand attached. Unsure of what to do still, Muun places the hand on her, "This had better work!"
Will Save (1d20+12=22) ((Thank Ehlonna for that Cloak of Resistance +5, my Will Save is butt and is why I wanted a Druid Level just for an extra point.))
((What's our plan to transfer items? I figure Muun can put the boots on Lucille (assuming Tarkus can take them off as a free action) and Tarkus and Jack can then work together to grab the rod?))
But then Lucille continues to opt to reassure him that it'll be okay. Darting his gaze up, Vecna announces his ability to control Quintis without having the hand attached. Unsure of what to do still, Muun places the hand on her, "This had better work!"
Will Save (1d20+12=22) ((Thank Ehlonna for that Cloak of Resistance +5, my Will Save is butt and is why I wanted a Druid Level just for an extra point.))
((What's our plan to transfer items? I figure Muun can put the boots on Lucille (assuming Tarkus can take them off as a free action) and Tarkus and Jack can then work together to grab the rod?))