Quiet Quest

GAME: Seldan casts Undetectable Alignment. Caster Level: 8 DC: 20

GAME: Seldan rolls spellcraft: (17)+18: 35
GAME: Malik casts Invisibility. Caster Level: 17 DC: 18
GAME: Malik casts Invisibility. Caster Level: 17 DC: 18
GAME: Malik casts S1: Mage Armor With Rod of Extend. Caster Level: 17 DC: 17
GAME: Malik used a Scroll of Scrying.

It had started the previous evening.

Something was bothering Seldan about that camp, the one they'd teleported into. That camp was quite large, a strong fighting force - and none seemed to know about it. He and Malik had come up with a plan, that amounted to a silent scouting of the camp. Gather layout, attempt to identify command structure, get a sense of presence of evil and power levels. If possible, if they come across one of the statues, attuned or not, swipe it if they can safely do so. Above all, remain unnoticed. When done, together or separately, they teleport back to their Tashraani home. All communication is to be done via their telepathic bond.

Seldan is gone for some hours, but when he returns, he holds wrapped in cloth a wicked-looking steel knife, slender and carefully balanced, about five inches long, with a handle that looks like a ring big enough to attach something to. "This belongs to Kol Demontry, and came from his lair," he explains to Malik soberly as the other man sets up for the scry that Seldan warned him is necessary. "Ware you the edge. It will aid you as a scrying tool."

He himself has stripped down to clothing, celestial armor beneath it, a hat of disguise in his hands and ready for use should it be needed. He has prepared his own spells for this already, cloaking his aura.

Malik has been going through his standard preparations, the spicy, sometimes cloying smell of the wizard's spell components in the air like an incense for some alien nose. His adventuring gear is ready, all laid out neatly and ready to go. As Seldan returns with the carefully wrapped knife, Malik gives a small, tight frown. "Keeping such an item can, as they say -- cut both ways." The small wrinkle of his nose makes it clear that he finds the object distasteful, but he carefully takes it, placing it before him.

Studying the scroll one final time before putting his true will into the words, he intones the magic in the prescribed way, the scroll disappearing in a flash of blue-white flame as his pupils begin to glow the same color, focus turning to the small silver mirror in his lap as he sends his senses soaring.

The mage quickly locates the cavern - empty. Chains on the wall marking it as the vampire's quarters. This part it seems was easy enough. Such simple beginnings however are rarely auspicious.

A simple, swift, silent nod from Seldan is accompanied by a telepathic flash of satisfaction, and a _we go, swiftly and silently, ere he returns. Cast your spells._ He pushes himself to his feet and dons the hat between his hands with a spoken words, and instantly is clad in simple, nondescript clothing, a hooded mantle covering hair and shoulders, hair and eyes a nondescript brown, Entirely unremarkable, an everyman. _I will not move. Place your hand on my shoulder when you are ready to port._

Malik goes through the motions fluidly, casting the armor spell on himself first, rod in hand, followed by two invisibility spells -- his first, and then Seldan's, to ensure the other mage's lasts as long as possible. With the power of the rod expended for the day, he sets it back in the bag, moving to where he knows his husband stands as he reaches out, putting a hand on his lover's arm. "This should be fun," he tells the other man, tone of voice practically dripping amusement, even if Seldan can't necessarily see him at the moment.

GAME: Seldan casts Teleport. Caster Level: 16 DC: 23
GAME: Seldan rolls 1d100: (74): 74

The world revolves around the invisible pair, landing them neatly in the cave that is quiet empty. There's no sign of the vampire that calls the place home save the wretched stench of vampire and underneath that the slightest hint of blood. There are curtains hanging from the ceiling in places as well as chains which occupy the walls, ceiling, floor. There's a dresser, a trunk, and little else in the room. One of the curtains covers an opening which is made evident by the motion of wind against it.

Seldan does not answer, but instead begins his own spell as soon as he feels Malik's hand on his arm. The words are strong and sure, the sigils his usual oddly archaic style, and the world twists, turns, collapses in on itself. There's an unexpected _jerk_ in the middle of it, but when they re-coalesce, they are where they intended to be.

Although it cannot be seen, Seldan shakes himself, and mentally shakes his head. _Nonstandard configuration for these anchor points,_ he explains. _I nearly miscalculated, I apologize for that. Through the cloth doors, swift and silent. Remember the plan._ He reaches up to his arm to take Malik's hand, and lead him towards the cloth doors.

He seems eager to exit, and the mental image of a wrinkled nose accompanies. _He has had another victim. Let us be gone._

GAME: Malik rolls Perception: (18)+24: 42

Seldan might not be able to *see* that grin on Malik's face, but he can most definitely feel it through the bond. _Always be sure to account for the precession..._ comes through on the link as clear as day, Malik's hand still in Seldan's. But the state of the lair quickly stifles any enjoyment he might have gotten out of the statement at another time. The smell of dead blood and vampire is strong, even if the inhabitants are not there, and Malik's imagination is strong enough to fill in the gaps of what must have happened. _Swift and silent I can do_, he assures the other man.

_Precession is a nebulous matter when you know not where upon Ea your target lies,_ Seldan points out mentally as he leads Malik towards what serves as a door, and makes to go through it, moving the curtains as little as he can manage. _Begin with the layout and command structure._

GAME: Malik rolls Perception: (20)+24: 44
GAME: Seldan rolls perception: (9)+25: 34

On the other side of the curtain is a foothill with other caves dotting the area. Three more in fact. Below the foothill in the valley is a massive army encampment. Tents in fairly neat rows spreading out nearly as far as the eye can see. Which isn't far given the hilly nature of the area. There are wolves mixed in among the people below, but that's not what catches the eye. What catches the eye is the MASSIVE wolf on the edge of the encampment laying down. It's huge. The size of a small mountain itself and obviously unnatural. It seems to be asleep?

Malik follows Seldan through the curtain, doing his best to remain unobserved. Eyes adjusting to the light almost immediately, he crouches down, observing the sight of the camp below them, including the mountainous wolf that appears to be sleeping. There's a small self-reprimand from the wizard as his heart quickens a few beats. _Remember when I said that Tashraan was starting to bore me?_ he asks Seldan through that link. _I think I had forgotten just how very strange the rest of the world can be._

Still, something in that elven heritage of his catches something down there. Squinting, he surveys the scene. _Totem_, he reports. _By the beast that proves some wizard somewhere was attempting to compensate for his certain shortcomings._ And then, quickly, _there are two more. Smaller but only in comparison._

As they emerge from the cave, Seldan immediately steps to the side and surveys the area. A mental alert suggests that the beast is new, and a few moments later, a flood of horror and disgust hits the link. _The beast is worse still in the sight of the holy than Eclavdran,_ he shudders. _The caves seem to be where those who lead will hide._ His mental tone is still shaking something off. _There are three others. Shall we learn more of the leadership? We should approach the totems last, for we will want to swiftly begone once we touch them._

You move forward under the cover of the protection of your invisibility, moving across the foothills to the first of the caves. There's a heavy scent of incense coming from within, and a thick fur is draped over the entrance.

GAME: Malik rolls Spellcraft: (11)+26: 37
GAME: Seldan rolls knowledge/religion: (1)+15: 16 (EPIC FAIL)

Seldan feels Malik's hand on his shoulder, tightening the grip and pulling on the man to keep him from proceeding any further. _They are attempting the Communion Rite_, he presses through that link they share. _I think it unsafe for us to enter, even as we are. Whatever entity they commune with may already know what we're up to. I think that we should do what we came to do and leave._

Immediately, the paladin stops when his shoulder is grabbed. _As you will. I have seen the camp._ He is silent a moment, gazing across the camp, eyes returning inexorably to that big black beast. A quick shake of the head, and more silence as Seldan turns his head towards the caves, then shakes his head. _I do not disagree. Get two. Try for the third, but if the beast wakes, we teleport out. We cannot challenge that._

The second cave seems to be largely empty. A quick glance reveals nothing inside that is evil. The last cave has someone inside. You can hear them snoring. A quick glance with Seldan's gaze tells him that the man inside is evil. He slumbers on unaware of you.

GAME: Malik rolls Stealth+20: (20)+22+20: 62
GAME: Malik rolls Will: (9)+16: 25
GAME: Aftershock rolls 2d6: (10): 10

Malik gives a small nod, focusing on the task at hand. Turning his attention to the Totem, he sneaks through the camp as quietly and efficiently as he can. The man has apparently had far too much practice at the arts of stealth and infiltration, given that he supposedly has spent years with his head in books and practicing archery. He makes even the shadows look awkward and clumsy by comparison, gliding fluidly and effortlessly up to the Totem. Reaching out, he takes it ...

And instantly feels the effects. Waves of weakness pass through him, and his head feels cloudy, dulled. It's a disconcerting feeling, and there is certainly a moment where Malik isn't sure what's going on before he recovers himself, concentrating on the task at hand once more.

Having remained behind, Seldan watches intently, silently. The two wolves, the totem, the beast behind them. He waits in tense silence, until the totem moves. _Return to me, love. I have not moved._ comes the gentle, coaxing voice. _I shall see to the statue, when we are safe. It is not attuned._

GAME: Malik rolls Stealth+20: (4)+22+20: 46
GAME: Malik rolls Stealth+20: (10)+22+20: 52

One of the wolves chuffs. "Do you think he realizes that it'll only get worse the longer he has it?" It seems to be speaking to the other wolf, half-eyeing Malik as if surprised to see him 'appear' out of thin air.

The second wolf blinks in surprise at noticing the wizard also. "I say we let him have it. See if he makes it. Should be interesting. Go on human. You can do it!" The wolf's encouragement doesn't _feel_ terribly encouraging.

Malik doesn't turn to eye either of the wolves. Perhaps they're expecting conversation to pinpoint their prey. Malik has no intention of making it easier for them, however. And, through the mental bond, Seldan might pick up a grumbling _As if I needed your permission._ Despite the fact that his legs feel like they're ready to betray him at any moment, the muscles getting weaker as he continues to walk back to where Seldan waits. His heart beats faster as the strain increases, the strength draining from him with each step while he has the accursed thing in his hand. But he presses on, sending through the link, _It is time for us to be gone. Expediently._

GAME: Seldan casts Teleport. Caster Level: 16 DC: 23
GAME: Seldan rolls 1d100: (15): 15
GAME: Malik rolls Will: (18)+16: 34
GAME: Malik rolls Spellcraft: (12)+26: 38

Seldan asks no questions, says nothing further, merely pictures their desired target in his mind, and begins the spell. A place he's teleported to a thousand times, and maybe it's a good thing, because Malik is wilting before his eyes. The thought sends a ice-spear of panic through him, but he firmly quells it and draws the last sigil, _focusing_ for all he is worth. _Hold on, love. Release it when we land._ Yes, there's adrenaline there.

Malik seems to practically be having trouble breathing by the time they get back to their home, leaning against Seldan shaking violently as sweat pours down his face. Another wave of weakness hits him from the spell, and he falls to his knees, the words of a spell already on his lips, drawing it from memory as he reaches into a pouch, removing a white egg shell and a blue egg shell, Crumbling these between his fingers, magic flares along his arms, moving over his body as a violent reaction happens with whatever magic has hold of him, sparking out and hitting the totem like lightning as Malik falls back, suddenly able to breathe easier again.

Even as Malik drops to his knees, casting the spell that frees him from the thing's grip, Seldan is moving at once with quick strides. Without hesitation, he grabs a dagger from the pile of weapons next to his pack and unsheathes it. The sheath gets discarded, and he turns at once back to the totem lying on the floor unattended. It's a twisted thing, looking like an amalgam of many creature body parts all smushed together into something altogether more hideous than any of its component parts.

He doesn't think. He doesn't question. As he approaches the totem, he slashes the dagger across his palm, hard and fast and deeper than he probably meant to. Blood rises immediately to his siren call, and his hand is crimson in seconds, but he grabs the totem with it, without a second thought, letting out a gasp of pain at the touch of the totem.

The totem twists in Seldan's hand, shifting until it takes on the form of a lovely woman. It's a visage that Malik might, or might not recognize. It's a very different form from the one that it was only a few seconds ago however.

GAME: Malik rolls Knowledge/Religion: (20)+8: 28

Malik sits up, running his fingers through his hair and removing his cloak, now that they're back in the high desert heat. Looking at what Seldan holds in his hand, he gives a long, easy sigh. "All that way," he teases, "to get a statue that we've both looked at thousands of times. Don't you already have one of those in your cell at the Temple?" He stands, flexing muscles gone sore and straining to get the blood flowing to them once more, their magical atrophy starting to reverse. "This one had better be worth adding to the collection."

"It is." Seldan gently sets the bloodied statue down on the floor, drops the crimson-stained dagger next to it, and slaps the remaining hand over the hand he'd just opened up. It looks as if in his rush, he'd opened a wound deeper than he intended, and he grits his teeth. "Are you all right, love? Most are not so." He falls silent, then, without waiting for the answer, taking a few moments of murmured rote prayers to seal over the wound across his palm.

"They are not the same. They merely appear the same, for they take on the form of the deity to whom their attuner looks. It is as I have said, these are divine-crafted artifacts. It is now safe - to touch." He lifts his hand, and the angry red line left behind will soon fade, Mal will know. The palm gets gently and carefully flexed. "Truly are you a marvel, Mal. I would not have dared such a thing."

It takes a little bit of cleanup, a spell to clean blood away, and setting all to rights, but at length, Seldan pulls Malik to his feet, and guides him towards the bedroom. "Would you see what is unique, perhaps it is well that I show you, for no speech can truly describe the effect." Armor and weapons are laid aside, gently, and the totem taken into the bedroom they share.

"Come. Dreamwalk with me."

-End