Forgotten Blood III - Prion Prison (Part 1)

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  • Title: Forgotten Blood III - Prion Prison (Part 1)
  • Place: Am'shere - Prion Prison
  • Summary: Adventurers have discovered a Charnite to create more Forgotten. Having found out the strange magical disease that has been crafted by them, they move upon 'Prion Prison' - a site of the first war against the Charnites in Am'shere - in order to take down the source of the disease.

It would appear that the Charn have come up with a plot to spread a disease that makes people unfathomably hungry. And while it, besides the mental problems and the over-eating, doesn't cause any big problems for other races... the Sith-makar do. For them, when they get so ravenously hungry that they cannot hold it back anymore...

Forgotten.

These Adventurers seek to head to the old fortress - 'Prion Prison' as the Charn call it - and stop further spread of the disease.

They've been told a powerful warrior - Tepantli - is to be standing guard over this place. And it would appear they have found him rather immediately when they begin to approach the mountain-side fortress.

Hung across a rack with his body spread. His scales flayed off. Dead eyes staring out into the distance, with a stick keeping its maw open. Burns across their body. A warning for all that might approach. Their broken greataxe sundered and used as part of the rack.

The heat blasting from the lava also making things difficult. There's a warp in the air. Beyond a stone bridge, a sundered stone building. Parts of it broken. Lava having flown into parts of it throughout the decades that have passed.


It was a bitter sweet irony Skielstregar was here. He was equipped to the nines, fully armored with gold paints pattered across his face. Something reserved for wartime. The trek there was a tepid, tense approach.

Then they get to the warning sign. Skielstregar stares at it. Approaches. And gently begins removing them off the rack.

"... thisss one hatesss the heat," he grumbles tensely, discarding broken axe pieces as he tries to give the displayed Kin some modicum of respect.

"Same," Malefic quips, the metal growl to its voice oddly absent as it stares across the bridge.

<OOC> Rune says, "Going to roll a perception, looking for traps on the bridge and/or signs of any lookout posts/movement."
Rune rolls Perception: 1d20 + 18: 13 + 18 = 31 (+4 vs Traps)

Having suffered from the disease that the Charneth have created, Rune is that much more concerned over the effects this may have on those she considers closer than her own blood-kin. Enough so that, despite running into terrors along the way, they had pushed through to the edge of the 'ruins' that are now called 'Prion Prison'.

The sight that greets them is no true surprise. Rune had expected such when she'd heard that there was a Makari who served as guard for the ruins. Even so, her lips draw together at the sight. "Well, I guess that confirms that this place is active once again."

Drawing out her weapons, Rune sighs to herself, looking across the stone bridge. Her eyes look at the ridges first, seeking signs of observation or movement, and then closer to the party. Something catches her eye. "Be careful. Something isn't quite right in the movement of the lava."

Rune holds up eight fingers, then points out areas where the lava flow seems different than the surrounding area.


Schara stops and stares at the warning sign a bit a way from it, and the elf sighs. "I don't know how they can do something like this. Somehow they are making me less sympathetic for an entire cloister of charn priests getting torn apart." The artificer notes, moving to help remove the body.

"If they built a place like this here, they must have some way to move or manipulate the lava. It would make sense."


Andelena, Sunguard of Daeus, stares at the corpse hung up and dead. She's come a long way from home, and she doesn't look at all fully comfortable here among the lavaflow and the heat, but give her credit: she's not complaining at all. If she had any complaints, they've vanished at the sight of the warrior who was slain and hung up entirely as a message of warning to them.

"Gods grant the warrior peace," she murmurs, going to Skielstregar as he works to try and give the warrior proper burial. She intends to aid him, but then Rune comments about the lava flow. Andelena looks up and her steel-gray eyes narrow.

"Lava flowing different? Shit. That's something," Andelena remarks. "Sure it's a mechanical thing, or is it more magical?" she inquires of Schara.

<OOC> Schara says, "could I roll something for figuring out the lava flow? I've got military theory, engineering, arcana and nature if any are relevant"
GAME: Schara rolls knowledge/arcana: (16)+9: 25

Aelwyn had no trouble with the concept of heat. Lava? Even better. What is a few obsessed cultists, when there was heat to enjoy, scales to simmer?

... up until the group finds the corpse. The usual, casual and carefree demeanor disappears in an instant as the Dragoon's orange eyes sees the sight. "That..." He begins, voice quivering and dying. He glances around himself; briefly stopping on Rune, but mostly then focusing on the silvery giant besides him. Which he then moves to _firmly_ prod onto the side, before tapping at the other's ankles. "Must be hard on those scales." He says with a distracted attempt at levity; indeed, his attention was mostly on the physical response. His fingers spin the glaive; as his eyes keep darting at and then away from the corpse.

"Good as place as any to start looking, is it not? Going this way surely will spell misfortune." And potentially more unruly sights.


Schara sighs again, a sound that transitions dangerously close to a dry heave, but the artificer collects herself after taking a step from the body. "I don't know if it's mechanical or magical, sometimes the dwarves use their own mechanisms for routing lava and things like that, but I don't see any signs of anything like that in a way that would indicate it." They muse aloud, before stopping to unfold and hook up the death ray on their arm. "Do you have anything to protect against the heat, miss big holy lady?" She asks after another glance at the burns prompted by Skielstregar. "They could have used extraplanar entities to manipulate the lava, instead of physical devices, I know there are more than a few that are capable of doing such. The odd moving lava floes could indicate that."


GAME: Rune rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (15)+12: 27

"It doesn't read to me as a trap." Rune replies, her eyes narrowing. "I'm no artificer, but it reads more like... creature movement than anything else. Elementals, most likely." She clarifies.

Then, with a scowl, she adds, "I don't know that there's much alternative ways around that we spotted from the approach. So we may not have too much in the way of other options than charging forward and dealing with whatever lies in store for us."


"Nothing I have prepared for today," Andelena says apologetically, her eyes narrowing. "This is my first time in Amshere. I didn't--realize how damn hot it is out here."

She looks at the rest of the group and says, "So I'm reliant on all of you. I'm more than comfortable--and capable--of getting into the melee. So whatever we're doing--let me get up front, and let me know if I'm about to step into something nasty."


Aelwyn walks away from the rest of the group and stares at the flow of lava instead. He doesn't comment too much on the discussion around them, instead seems to have fallen into his own thoughts.

"If it is fire elementals, then it is fine that we have a walking cone of ice with us." He finally says and flashes his teeth at Skielstregar, soon moving to walk over the rest of the group with his usual poise. "Let us move on, until some of us cook."


Skielstregar hefts his halberd, scowling as the others give their input. "Now Rune ssspeaksss thisss one'sss sssenss-... wordsss... tongue. Beh. Sstupid heat..." he rubs his head. "Warrior Andelena, just be ware that thingsss may get ferocious as usual. You may be fighting more like thisss one, but lesss... nice."

"... if thisss one does not melt, Dragoon." Regardless. "... let'sss go." He advances, steps heavy and fuming.


The moment the team begins to rush forwards, the fully expected happens. As had been warned, fire elementals begin to rise.

As they get about halfway across the bridge, the Ifrit begin to approach already. Letting out flaming almost hissing-like sounds. Surrounded on all sides, swarming onto the bridge. Flaming hands reaching out to the group, flaring flames licking at their legs.

The one closest to Rune getting on the bridge first, trying to lay its flames onto her body immediately!

Ifrit attacks Rune, Skielstregar, Andelena with Burning Hands, Reflex DC: 15
Damage 1d4: 2
Rune rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 13: 14 + 13 = 27
Andelena rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 6: 5 + 6 = 11
Skielstregar rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 8: 4 + 8 = 12
Skielstregar casts Draconic Breath (Cold), Reflex DC; 19
Damage 3d6: 12
Ifrit rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 3: 11 + 3 = 14
Ifrit rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 3: 15 + 3 = 18

Skielstregar winces as things crawl out of the the lava, doubly so as a wave of flames lick his side. He juts forward, turning around and inhaling deeply. The oppressive heat abates for a moment before a blast of frozen air lances across the lava, cracking and scouring the elementals before they even get the chance to leave their safe haven. "Thiss one doesss not have time for you..." he hisses, steam rising off his scales.

Aelwyn rolls AoO: 1d20 + 9: 5 + 9 = 14
Damage: 17
<OOC> Rune says, "Full round attack. Using feint on first attack to try to trigger Sneak Attack. Rolling bluff first."
Rune rolls Bluff: 1d20 + 19 - 4 = 18 + 15 = 33
Rune rolls Attack: 1d20 + 14 - 2 = 20 + 12 = 32 
Rune rolls Attack: 1d20 + 14 - 2 = 14 + 12 = 26 (Crit Confirmed) -- Damage: 23

With the ifrits moving forward out of the lava, Rune turns in a defensive posture, ducking out of the way of a flash of fire that is sent the way of her and her allies. Landing in a crouch, Rune does a quick glance around before focusing in on the one closest to her.

As Rune is well known for her speed in combat, there is a flash of a single blade in distraction. Then, in quick succession comes one which neatly slices through the neck of the nearest ifrit, followed up by two swings at the body. The head neatly comes off, the body falling and turning to ash. "At least they aren't very sturdy."

<OOC> Schara says, "Zapp bottom right elemental, then moving depending on results"
Schara rolls Death Ray: 1d20 + 6: 7 + 6 = 13 -- Damage: 11

It seemed they had no choice but to take the bridge out, in spite of all the warnings that it was a bad idea, including the warning put up by whoever was working here. They hadn't even crossed half of the platform when the elementals made themselves known with several blasts of flame. Shara takes aim at the right side, which is mostly clear thanks to Aelwyn and Skielstregar, and the deathray sends a bolt of electricity straight through one of the elementals, felling it just as quickly.

Ifrit attacks Rune, Aelwyn, Andelena with Burning Hands, Reflex DC: 15
Damage 1d4: 3
Rune rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 13: 5 + 13 = 18
Andelena rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 6: 14 + 6 = 20
Aelwyn rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 5: 20 + 5 = 25
Andelena rolls Attack: 1d20 + 12 - 2 = 14 + 10 = 24 (Power Attack) -- Damage: 19
Andelena rolls Attack: 1d20 + 12 - 2 -5 = 13 + 10 - 5 = 18 (Power Attack) -- Damage: 19

The next elemental that pops up, Andelena steps forward, her armor bright and shiny despite the fire that's been lobbed her way. "Alright you fiery fucks," she growls, "let's thin out your numbers."

Deliverance comes out of the sheath. The voice from within the blade. "Take care to avoid more of the fire, or Brydion will be upset when you come back with only half your hair," the maternal voice says--

And then the sword swings down into the fire elemental, the thing dispersing in a small dying gasp of a flame snuffed out. "They'll have to try harder then," Andelena mutters.

Ifrit attacks Rune, Andelena with Burning Hands, Reflex DC: 15
Damage 1d4: 3
Rune rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 13: 10 + 13 = 23
Andelena rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 6: 10 + 6 = 16
Aelwyn rolls Attack: 1d20 + 9: 2 + 9 = 11 (Miss)

When the Ifrits arise, Aelwyn glances around. Quickly, Skielstregar does what the walking icicle does. "Tch, cold as ice, Silver." The Dragoon calls out - though he himself then whips his blade across the nearby approaching elemental's face, disintegrating it.

"Come on now ladies, this is not how one leads a dance of fire," The Dragoon calls out, teeth flashed out as he dances - the fires lick his scales, but he pays little attention besides moving with the motion. "Come, come, do not smolder, but burn bright!" He encourages as he makes a swing with his blade; perhaps due to his gleeful joy, he misses. Still, the fiery draconian's glee was not dulled by the least.

Ifrit attacks Aelwyn, Andelena with Burning Hands, Reflex DC: 15
Damage 1d4: 1
Andelena rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 6: 13 + 6 = 19
Aelwyn rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 5: 12 + 5 = 17
Skielstregar rolls Attack: 1d20 + 15: 10 + 15 = 25 -- Damage: 10

Skielstregar huffs as he spies the others coming forth and fanning flames at them, though most seem just find them barely charred. "Grrr... they're jussst dissuading usss."

Rarely used, but on hand for just this reason, Skielstregar reaches back into the large sheathe he keeps on his back and yanks free a shortspear as he strides forward. "Behind!" he warns Rune on his approach, before stepping up beside her as her hurls a spear down into the lava towards one of the elementals. There's a blast of splintering wood, and it remains pinned to a molten rock as it sinks back into the lava.

Rune rolls Perception: 1d20 + 18 = 7 + 18 = 25

It is certainly a gauntlet of flames, but Rune neatly seems to avoid most of them, rolling along the ground or simply side-stepping the ones which come closest to her. By the time she rolls to her feet again, most of the threats are already taken care of, so she gives a nod to the others. "I'm going to check the other end of the bridge."

So she continues forward, knowing that the others should have no trouble mopping up the last of the creatures. "I wonder if those creatures naturally occur here, or if they were something the Charneth had a hand in." For now, the rogue continues to scout forward, trying to keep an eye out for anything that might be trouble. "Looks relatively clear for now. But we should stay close, just incase."

Schara rolls Death Ray: 1d20 + 6: 18 + 6 = 25 -- Damage: 11

Schara watches the rest of the elementals fall, leaving a singular remaining elemental, and another bolt of electricity causes it to dissipate, as Schara moves up while the coast is clear. "I don't know, but the guard was burned. If they were here for some time, then it would not make sense to be burnt now. Either they are agitated, or summoned by those here." She considers. "We should go while there are not more however, but we need to be careful, they may be here on our return."


The ifrit keep coming from all directions. Trying to use their flaming presence against the Adventurers. Flames keep erupting from the sides, alongside the lava. But between Skielstregar's icy breath, Schara's shots, Rune's daggers, Aelwyn's spear and Andelena's blade, they get torn down in just moments. The combat is short, quick, and decisive for the Adventurers. But it gives them a warning of what may lay ahead.


Aelwyn crouches down, hand on the ground, and then he stands up with a final swing of his glaive. The burning embers of his blade die out. "Tch, this one has danced with far fierce fires over the seas." He takes in a deep, wistful breath. "Perhaps the winds this north are not charitable to one's burning heat."

Looking at Rune, he hmhs. "Perhaps a long voyage had sapped their strength." There's an audible clank as he slides his polearm against his shoulder pad, and he tilts his hip; hand brushing his chain shirt ope nas it slides down to his hip. "A bit of fire will only scare few rats. Lead the way."


Beyond the bridge lies a ridge that would be difficult to climb. Beyond it, the stone walls of Prion Prison - known to the Sith-makar as Mior Platohol. There's an obvious inwards region that lead towards its doors. Along the walls, if one looked carefully, small 'slits' for arrows or other ranged weapons to fire from. Grotesque statues at the sides of the doors, partially broken, looking like sundered beasts of war. Almost unrecognizable from what they once were.


Andelena follows behind Rune and Skielstregar, her steel-gray eyes narrowed as she steps cautiously behind them. "I'm right behind you, Rune," she says. "You keep your eyes open and I'll keep everyone here as safe as I can."


Aelwyn looks at the ridges. "Should perhaps one of us try to climb and see further ahead?" The draconian suggests, whilst following the others, around the middle of the group.

Rune rolls Perception: 1d20 + 18: 14 + 18 = 32 (+4 vs Traps)

Climbing up the ridge isn't as much a problem as one might expect for Rune, having gotten a fair amount of practice at it recently. However, a dark hallway with arrow slits certainly has her giving the entire area a wary glance. It is the second time it seems that they might just be walking into a shooting gallery. "I'll check it out, see if I can spot anything."

The rogue moves just ahead of the group, into the shadows where the dim light of the lava doesn't quite reach. There are quick looks between a couple of the arrow slits as well as a crouch as she looks along the ground for signs any sort of tripwires or pressure plates. "Looks clear, at a glance at least." She adds in a hushed voice, not wanting to call, incase enemies lie just out of the range of her sight.


Skielstregar scowls as their approach draws closer. "... thisss one remembersss a time where they had to go through five doorsss to get to sssomeone. It wass jussst doorsss. Why isss it doorsss that are ssso... frusstrating."

He spies the arrow slits on ground level. A glance to Rune to confirm all was clear before giving a sharp nod. Then he pulls free a black metal warhammer from his belt. Malefic grins as they're put away. "We can make door. Loud, but door," he mentions, gesturing towards one of the arrow slits. "Can climb through hole if you wisssh, Aelwyn."


Aelwyn looks up at Skielstregar. He then leans on one leg towards the bigger Makari. "This one likes where Silver is thinking." He rumbles in amusement. "It would be rare to trap the ones where arrows come from, wold it not?" He suggests to the rest of the group.

Noise? Last thing on his mind as he wants to see some stone crushing action. "This one has extra rope for climbing."


Schara follows up with the others, death ray still at the ready, and her gaze mostly on the arrow slits on the wall. Perhaps too much so, as she nearly bumps into the others when they come to a stop. "Well, they might know we're here already, or they might not. I'm just worried if they are preparing an ambush, as they've made it abundantly clear they have several powerful spellcasters. Perhaps more than those already slain." She considers quietly. "I heard that Harkashan had trouble with climbing before, so I don't want to be a liability. I have something that might help if we try, but it might be best to save it for later? I'm unsure how would be best to proceed, and I don't like that."

Andelena casts Light.

Andelena huffs a little. She's not able to see nearly as well as the rest of the group in the darkness, so she murmurs a prayer and touches Deliverance--

And the sword gains a little light. "Sorry for anyone who was hoping to go in total darkness, but I'm not nearly so gifted as some of you," Andelena says with a little smirk. She goes to follow Rune as promised. "My thought: let's get the door."

Rune rolls Perception: 1d20 + 18: 1 + 18 = 19

As the group decides to head towards the door, Rune strides along side Skielstregar. "I certanily don't mind the extra light. It helps make things a little easier to see." Oh, and it creates deeper shadows, which may very well be to Rune's benefit. As they get to the door itself, Rune moves to look it over briefly, but then her ear twitches as if she were distracted by something, looking over her shoulder.

It's probably nothing.

"Door looks good. Not even locked. If you would like to do the honors?" She offers to the silver-scaled Makari.


Skielstregar takes in the other's opinions and gives a mild chuff as they decide to take the straight forward route. But, despite the circumstances, he can't help but snort at that mental image. "He had trouble climbing? Sssurprsing. Maybe it isss all the ssstoness on him. Thisss one ssshould help him work out more. Lift treesss. Sssa."

But he steps along up with Rune, swapping out to Malefic again. He stares at it, unsure what Rune is exactly looking for, but he just nods once. "With pleasure."

He reaches for it, but Malefic suddenly falls forward, bites what passes for a handle, and shoves it open themselves. "I am so ready to start counting," it hisses, buzzing in his grip.

<OOC> Harkashan says, "I will take Arcana or The Planes rolls please."
Skielstregar rolls Knowledge (Arcana): 1d20 + 4: 14 + 4 = 18
Rune rolls Knowledge (Planes): 1d20 + 4: 10 + 4 = 14
Schara rolls Knowledge (Arcana): 1d20 + 9: 15 + 9 = 24

Stepping forward to the entrance into Mior Platohol, Rune finds the door very much unlocked and untrapped. With Skielstregar opening it, they find a simple open hallway ahead of them. There's broken pillars within. An area to the north-west has a roiling pit of lava beneath it. Stone having fallen away. But there's a strange emanation to it...

Skielstregar and Schara recognize the emanation as some kind of small rift. A place where the veil between the Material World and the Fire Plane is slightly open. It's weak... but it's there.

There's also two doors they can easily spot. One to the east and one to the North.


Aelwyn looks more than a little disappointed as they go up towards the door. "Hmmh, this one hopes they were more creative with their ambush plans." The Dragoon rumbles as he moves to stand behind Rune and Skielstregar.

"Tch, this place does not seem very occupied. Perhaps they were swallowed by their own creations?" The ruddy sith-makar suggests.

<OOC> Skielstregar going to imbibe a potion of endure elements. (it's going to say resist elements, but it was a typo)
GAME: Skielstregar used a Potion of Resist Elements.

Schara's head tilts as the door opens without much in the way of resistance. "I do not like that. Either they do not use this door, wish for people to use this door, or this part of the building is abandoned for some reason." The artificer muses as she peeks inside. "Perhaps due to a planar anomaly causing the plane of fire to nearly breaking into Ea here? We should be careful not to aggravate it further, just in case."


"This looks like something that is, to be candid, absolutely fucked," Andelena mutters as she goes to follow Rune. "I don't like this. Planar shit is... It's not _good_. Far too much can go wrong."

She sighs. "Just better not be like that time I was in that fae... shit."


Skielstregar pulls out a vial from his belt, it a mixture of red and blue that seems to seperate like oil and water after he examines the rift. "... feh. Schara isss right. Fire plane. Isss bad," he grumbles, tipping back the potion and waiting. "... why doess thiss taste like cinnamon- *cough*."

The steam that's been rising off the silverscale abates. And he sighs in relief.

Andelena rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 6: 18 + 6 = 24

As Andelena steps on a crack in the ground, some of the stone immediately breaks away. She gets off of it in time, as the stone crumbles away. Revealing some Lava further below. It seems the prison is unstable ground.

Rune rolls Perception: 1d20 + 18: 11 + 18 = 29

While others may recognize what the strange effect going on within the lava, Rune knows well enough to avoid anything that screams 'magical bullshit'. For the time being, she makes sure to keep to the edges of the room, putting the greatest distance between herself and whatever it is.

The only problem is, that there is a flicker of movement in that direction and her attention slowly turns that way. "Uh... guys?" She presses her lips together slightly, then adds, "Something is moving in there. We... may have incoming." And, with that, she darts towards the nearest door to make sure that if things go sideways, they at least have some measure of escape plan.


"Hmm, fire does have a bit of a spicy taste. Ginger, cinnamon." Aelwyn says to Skielstregar - even more upbeat now that they are dealing with fire plane. "This one will see what this little construction has in store for us." A flash of his teeth - which is quickly interrupted by the sudden crack.

"Is she alright?" The ruddy sith-makar asks from Andelena, already having moved to action.

Rune rolls Perception: 1d20 + 18: 11 + 18 = 29

Schara jumps as the floor crumbles around Andelena, but thankfully not physically, so as not to disturb the floor further. "Not safe to use this part of the place would make sense to me. Are you alright miss, I don't know your name, mine is Schara, and I would like to not keep calling you large holy lady if possible, since that sounds rude, but are you alright?"

Schara promptly ceases her rambling at the warning, and darts closer to the room, keeping ready in case of incoming


Skielstregar blinks as Andie steps aside. And he looks down at his feet. There's a visible gulp. "... erm. Pleassse hold..." he murmurs to the floor, stepping gingerly to avoid cracks as he makes his way towards the door, occasional glances taken to the planar rift behind them. "Then we not deal with thisss now," he murmurs to the half-sil, waiting for any other warning before simply shouldering the door open.

He's getting more antsy.


As Skiels steps through the door to the east of the main entry-way, a hallway is revealed. Based on a quick glance, it likely loops around to the other side. Just a loop. There's a door right ahead of them to the east, and two more doors southwards.

There's a few burners they could light up north for better sight. Another grotesque stone statue as well.


"Large Holy Lady does sound nice." The Dragoon flashes his teeth - before Rune's warning comes out. Aelwyn walks over towards Rune, pulling his glaive out in the ready. He kept quiet; but he wanted to get in close in case there was need for something sharp to stab towards the eyes.


This second door is also unlocked and not trapped, meaning that Rune is more than happy to indicate as such and give Skielstregar the all clear to open it into the room that lies beyond. Rune steps in afterwards, "We should shut that behind us, just incase whatever I saw decides to follow."

With the obvious light-sources to the North, Rune decides to wander southward, "It's all very strange. If they were expecting people, you'd think that the doors would be more secured." She taps on the nearest one on the way South, shaking her head again. "No traps, not locked." This tendency is starting to have her looking concerned.


Skiel sticks right behind Rune as she goes to inspect the various doors in the hall. "Warrior Andelena isss a worthy Sssister of His Light," he opines as introductions are made to the back line. He chuffs once, and opens the door door to the next room after approval is gained.

The silverscale blinks. "... no."

Closes it.


Beyond the door, a heavier door than the others, which Skielstregar opens (and then closes) lies a large lake of lava, with barely-still-attached flooring and pillars that seem to create a barely-traversible route towards a door to the north-east.


Skiel moves on over to the next door, this time just shoving it open as his patience for this place is waning. "If it is lava again, I swear, I'm going to bite them so hard that they-"

"Blood," Skiel interrupts Malefic's rant. He points out towards the end of the hallway past the door, and he rolls his shoulders. "On guard."


The Southern-most door in the east hallway leads to... another hallway. It looks uneventful. The pillars here are more solid than they wee elsewhere. But instead... at the end of it, blood. A streak of it, and a pooling of it, that seems to head through the door to the east.


"... there were no more people trapped here, were there?" Aelwyn asks quietly, with quite a bit of uncertainty. He was not in mood to see another blood show. Of another flayed man. His fingers squeeze the shaft of his glaive stiffly.


"Alright then, miss Andelena, and, oh, that's interesting, but I should probably shut myself up so I don't give us all away even though sentient weapons like miss Malefic are fascinating." The artificer answers, taking a look into the room, and nodding. "Yes, I would rather not risk further unstable flooring while we can avoid it." She agrees, but Schara regrets it as the other door opens. "Oh. I shouldn't be surprised, but I am disappointed, and worried. I hope that whoever was bleeding is alright, but I don't expect them to be."

Rune rolls Perception: 1d20 + 18: 18 + 18 = 36
Rune rolls Disable Device: 1d20 + 23: 1 + 23 = 24

The opening and subsequent closing of the door leaves Rune with a bemused look on her face, "So, not that door. Let's hope all the ones along this hallway don't all go to the same place." So, this time she allows Skielstregar to take the lead, hanging back for a moment to see what might lie beyond.

When it seems to be a hallway, without the lava or the strange rifts into another plane, Rune steps in and heads further into the shadows, examining the blood at the far end of the room. "This blood looks dried, at least a few days old." She explains, fingers touching the floor before she looks at the door.

"Well, that one doesn't look trapped at first glance, but there's definitely a lock. Give me a second." Crouching near the door, Rune take as a moment to work at it. Then a moment more. It seems like she's having some sort of difficulty.

"What the... it's stuck." She tugs at one of her tools, wiggles it, tugs again, and then on the final pull, manages to get her tools free, but send herself sprawling to her butt, knocking herself right into Skielstregar's legs in the process.

Click. "Ow..." The door is open.


"Missus or ma'am," Andelena responds to Schara with a little grin. "I'm married, despite my mother's best fucking attempts to keep me from being so."

She approaches the door and winces on Rune's behalf when the smaller woman tumbles to the ground. "Hold on, let me open it this time," she suggests. "I got you."

The Sunguard gives a wary eye to the blood in the room she's already in before opening the door...

<OOC> Harkashan says, "After Andelena opens the door, Fortitude and Will saves from everyone please. DC 15 on each."
Schara rolls Will: 1d20 + 5: 8 + 5 = 13
Schara rolls Fortitude: 1d20 + 6: 13 + 6 = 19
Aelwyn rolls Will: 1d20 + 3: 13 + 3 = 16
Aelwyn rolls Fortitude: 1d20 + 8: 20 + 8 = 29
Skielstregar rolls Will: 1d20 + 7 = 3 + 7 = 10
Skielstregar rolls Fortitude: 1d20 + 14 = 12 + 14 = 26
Rune rolls Will: 1d20 + 5 = 15 + 5 = 20
Rune rolls Fortitude: 1d20 + 5 = 12 + 5 = 17
Andelena rolls Will: 1d20 + 12 = 1 + 12 = 13
Andelena rolls Fortitude: 1d20 + 12 = 16 + 12 = 28
<OOC> Harkashan says, "CONTENT WARNING: Torture and Blood."
<OOC> Harkashan says, "Fortitude Save: You retch from the smell."
<OOC> Harkashan says, "Will Save: You are horrified by the torture and sight before you (temporary Frightened condition)"

Opening the door to the east, there's an immediate wave of smell that overcomes them. It's fettid and sweet and smells almost like meat. It's a smell that would churn anyone's stomachs.

Ahead of them, a horrifying sight. A large grate, stained with old blood. Multiple racks with bowls beneath them. Some still filled with blood. To the east, a /massive vat/ placed into the stone, filled with rank blood. There's used bandages everywhere.

The blood they'd followed through the door leads to the corpse of a Sith-makar. Felled. Missing their lower body. Looking like Arcane magic was used to tear apart their body from behind.

Hanging from three of the racks, next to each other, the exhausted bodies of Sith-makar. From the movement of their chests, still alive. Some of their scales sundered. Wounds on their bodies. 'Tubes' running from their veins towards pots near them. Slowly 'dripping' blood into those pots.


Aelwyn did not like the look of this. Gripping his spear tighter, he takes in several deep breathes, orange fiery eyes glassing over. His body was here. His fire was alight. The only that remains is the debt to the living.

When the sight is revealed, he momentarily has the urge to drop his spear - but instead his well practiced instincts kick in, and he rushes inside instead. "Somebody bring the healers," The Dragoon calls out, nearly absent mindedly. His own hand moves to rummage through his own belt, looking for a potion. It may have seemed as if he were just doing the motions after experience - but some might be able to tell he was doing the motions to get the sight of the scene out of his mind.


Skielstregar shakes his head at Aelwyn. "We don't know. Thisss one hopesss not. But expectsss it to be true." He quiets briefly. "... if you sssee Forgotten, give them swift mercy. They cannot be sssaved."

Malefic, however, is beaming at Schara's praise. "I am fascinating, aren't I?"

"Shush."

There's light glances to the blood, but he's more focused on Rune's picking. Or... "Hrmm?" He blinks at her. "... Rune, thisss isssn't cooling time," he murmurs, helping her up.

Which he gets a full view of the room before him. The sight doesn't get him, no. He had seen far worse to make his stomach churn. But old memories. Very, very old, torn, eaten memories bubble forth. His knees grow weak, and his shoulders sag. "... no.. no no no.." he whispers, jogging forward and around cracks towards the few still living. "K-Kin..!" he hisses, stopping short of the stairs. "We're here.." <Draconic>


Pulled to her feet, Rune offers an apologetic expression, "Sorry. Tools got stuck. These locks aren't exactly high quality." Everything in this place looks run-down, so it is no wonder that the doors may very well have rust or decay as well.

Once back on her feet, the rogue dusts herself off and puts her tools away, reaching out to pick up her swords as she follows the rest of the group into the room. A room that has her stomach turning. Thankfully, she's been on a fast these past few days from her own experiences with the strange disease, so there is nothing to come up.

Instead, Rune stands there for a moment, looking dismayed. In fact, her eyes lock onto the sight of the dead Makari, torn apart by magic and she freezes. Eyes wide, body stark still. She had been killed by powerful Charneth magic once. A spell of unknown type which had ripped through her from behind. That sight hits a little close to home.

Her breathing starts to kick up, mind obviously somewhere else entirely for the time being.


_These are people._ It's a thought that hangs heavy in Andelena's head. People who'd had dreams and ambitions and loves and hopes. People who have been assaulted and hurt and...

She stills entirely. Eyes wide. Even though she's seen the aftermath of someone tortured before--it never gets any easier. In some ways, because she's seen it on someone close to her, someone who she loves more than anything--it's worse. She doesn't gag. She doesn't retch. She breathes heavily and tries to rally herself.

Because sometimes, the worst thing about being a Sunguard--and the Compassion that comes with it--is that it sometimes hurts to see people so hurt.


As Skielstregar declares; "Kin!" The three open their eyes. Weakly. Looking with their nictitating membranes still closed around their eyes. Incredibly weak looking. Letting out small hisses of sounds. But their tongues barely allow them to speak anymore. Dehydrated. Hurt. Partially exsanguinated.


As no one else but Skielstregar follows him, Aelwyn turns his head to look behind him - and sees a lot of people in state of shock. "Come, healers! Healers!" And then with his frustration mounting. "STEP. THE. FUCK. UP." He snarls - a face turned into a visage of savagery.

Whipping his tongue, he takes one of his own potions and moves towards the most weak looking Makari, attempting to get the potion into their gullet somehow.

Don't stop. Don't think. Don't feel. It is only fire burning in you.

<OOC> Aelwyn shall use one of his potions for this
GAME: Aelwyn used a Potion of Cure Moderate Wounds.
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 2d8+3: (11)+3: 14
<OOC> Skielstregar will give a CLW pot to the one of the left
GAME: Skielstregar used a Potion of Cure Light Wounds.
Skielstregar rolls 1d8+1 = 4

Skielstregar walks up to another one as Aelwyn barks out orders, him stepping out of his stupor briefly. "Just keep holding on, thiss one knowsss it isss hard," he tries to assuage.

The tubes, he has to get these tubes out...

He stares. Stares. How does one do this without making them bleed? "Andelena!" he calls over to the stunned human. "We need His Light! Please...! as he follow's Aelwyn's lead and feeds them a potion. "Thisss one can't... can't figure out how to get them out..!""

Malefic's grin is a thin, fine line.

Andelena rolls Heal: 1d20 + 14: 4 + 14 = 18 (Re-Roll Used)
Andelena rolls Heal: 1d20 + 14: 9 + 14 = 23
Andelena uses Channel Energy: 3d6 = 5

Andelena shakes off the fear. She's called forth. She has to do what has to be done--the thing that a Sunguard is called to do.

Her steel-gray eyes are heavy as she approaches the three. "I can get them," she says. "Carefully, but I can get them out. I can free them." For a Sunguard is charged with liberation of those wrongfully imprisoned, and so she does--pulling them carefully and gently off their methods of torture, the tubes that steal their blood. Pressure's required to keep them from bleeding out, and she seals the wounds with a prayer of healing made to her Knight, a thing that washes over them, herself, and her allies in a soft glow.

When her eyes open again and she sees that the holy magic has brought these people the succor that they needed, there's a mixture of multiple things. Relief--and yet a weight. A weight in seeing this again.

"I've got you," she tells all of them, so warmly. "My name is Andelena Donnelly, and I am a Sunguard of the Shining Knight. We've come to save you."


The one before Skielstregar, as Skiel gives them a potion, similarly has some of that life return to them. "Please..." They whisper. The pale one at the center, icy pale similar to Skielstregar, looks younger than the other two. Clad in ribbons of what seems like armor. And as Andelena's healing springs up moments later, they too begin to awaken. "Who...?" They ask in Draconic, confusion in their eyes. Their bodies still latched to the wooden beams of the rack.

Rune rolls Reflex: 1d20 + 13: 19 + 13 = 32
Rune rolls Disable Device: 1d20 + 23 = 24

It is Aelwyn's voice that finally snaps Rune out of wherever her mind had been. Her head turns towards the dancer and it almost looks as if she were waking from a dream. Or in her case, a nightmare.

As the healing seems to be well taken care of, Rune approaches towards where the three are bound, "I can get them unchained. Just give me a mo--" And that's when the ground begins to crack beneath her feet slightly.

Rather than giving way to lava as before, this time the rock simply gives way, dropping with a plunking sound into something viscuous and moist. With the drain nearby in the floor, it's likely some sort of well of blood beneath. "Uh... Watch where you step."

As she approaches the bound Makari, Rune crouches down and starts working on the locks, but she seems to once again struggle with them. Her fingers are still somewhat trembling from whatever her mind had been lost in only a moment ago. However, it seems amplified by the fact that the locks are old and rusted and make for additional trouble for her tools.

It takes longer than it should, but eventually the chains start to come free.


There is confusion in the Sith-makar eyes. Largely at the title being given. After all, they are not from the Alexandria area. They are healed by Andelena, Skielstregar and Aelwyn - tubes removed by the first - and subsequentally released by Rune.

When removed from the racks, they're still trembling and shaking. Weak on their legs. The one in white looking to lean on Skielstregar, the amber one on Aelwyn, and the red one on Andelena. They are not too proud to accept help in this moment.


The trio proceeds to introduce themselves. The red one declaring; "Tlemauatl", the pale one as "Setl", and finally the Amber one as "Tlalli." Very common names amongst the Sith-makar. Perhaps amusingly with a bit of a theme. Fire, Ice, and Earth.


"I'm sorry, Aelwyn, I don't know what to do, how to help." The artificer answers after a moment, wincing a bit under all the armor at the shouting. "I've only got one way to heal people at the moment, and I'm still very worried about the people behind all of this."

Eventually though, they are able to take a few steps closer, feeling very unsure what to do. "Is it safe to take them out the way we came? I'm worried about making sure they're okay." She answers after a moment. "And there was something moving around before that's still unaccounted for."


When the others start to step forward, Aelwyn continues to take in deep and heavier breaths. "Soon," He tells the Makari in draconic, growls and grunts as he attempts to free himself. Yet, Rune and Andelena had it all under the control. The Dragoon moves to step aside, letting the others two work, orange eyes staring intently at a spot on the wall.

Finally, the ruddy sith-makar grabs the amber Makari and shoulders him, starting to try and pull him away from the sight of the carnage. "Anywhere better than here." The Dragoon grimly says to Schara.


Skielstregar sighs in relief as he feels that wave hits him. Him watching the Sunguard work after he helps hold them up, watching the wounds heal up. "It's okay, Kin. We're here. The Dragonfather is too. Warriorsss and Shamansss are here," he tries to assuage in a quiet rumble. Despite being such a large figure, his fingers are trembling. He's staring at the racks.

Malefic leans over, bites his horn, and wrenches his head to the side at the still breathing prisoners.

He quietly nods, swallowing whatever was building up as he reaches up to help the whitescale down and hold them up. "This one is Skielstregar, Warrior caste. How long have you been here...?" he quietly asks them, facing and leading them away from the racks. <Draconic>

He looks over to Schara. "Schara, you make metal limbsss. Suture and bandage isss critical skill for that. You can help. Inssspect them."


At Skielstregar's inquiry, the pale one speaks while leaning on him. "I... don't know. Time is..." She shakes his head, confused. "I've lost consciousness so many times. I don't know." She speaks with sorrow in her voice.


"The ground is unstable," Andelena warns. "So we're gonna want to keep that in mind, but we may want to bring them with us instead of leaving them in a room, and I am _not_ leaving them somewhere."

She sighs softly. "Maybe for the best Bry couldn't come due to healer's orders," she murmurs, before looking around the room. "Let's get these people out and into safety. They've been through enough."


The fact that they seem to struggle with time makes the question that Rune brings up somewhat uncertain, "Do any of you remember how long it has been since the last time one of your captors was here?" She looks to the trio, who may look better than at first, but still rough.

She opens her mouth, but then Andelena confirms that they aren't going to leave them. "Harkashan and some of the Makari Shaman set up a camp a bit further out. If we can get them that far, the healers can take care of the rest." She suggests. "This place is too dangerous to leave the injured. Especially with those strange fire emanations in the lava."


The amber one, Tlalli, answers Rune; "About three days ago. One of our kin..." He looks to the corner. "They were spotted by one of the Charn mages that roam this place."


Aelwyn looks towards the rest of the group. "There is no fight happening with wounded. Let us go back." The Dragoon says, with finality on his voice, as if he was not going to willing to argue the point. So he begins to help the one Makari on his shoulder along, just wishing to be out of the room. "How many of you were here?"


"Just the three of us for as long as I can remember." Tlalli answers Aelwyn with a tired voice, leaning on him with much of his weight.

Schara rolls Heal: 1d20 + 10: 2 + 10 = 12

"Leave them? No, I don't want to leave them!" The artificer answers quickly, shaking her head violently. "I've just, I don't want anyone getting killed here. They need some food, but they need a safe place to rest, too. Setl is still injured, if anyone has healing to spare. "

The answer makes Schara glance to the half missing corpse nearby. "Those mages and druids are horrifying, and they can hurt a lot of people at once. I'm just trying to think about how to do this as safely as possible."

"I know this place is horrifying, Aelwyn, but those charn people are dangerous, really dangerous. We need to be careful, please."


"It's okay, Setl," Skiel reassures the whitescale as he looks to the others as they posit their questions. There's a chuff at Rune's mention of the camp, and a firm thud of the tail out of habit on the grate. <Draconic>

"Yess..." he growls. "Camp. Thisss one agreesss with Dragoon Aelwyn and Warrior Rune. Retreat for now. Sssince these might be the only three, return them to camp. Promptly return here."

He looks to Schara and gives a firm nod. "Food. Yesss. They will need food. And we will be careful by getting them out. Come. Now. We have no time to wassste. The magess will get theirsss sssoon enough." And with the others, he carries Setl out of the room, headed towards the main chamber.


"I've got some food." Rune offers as the group begins to move out of the torture chamber. It's simple travel rations, though with an Am'shere twist to it. Spiced jerky from some sort of terrestrial lizard. It's offered out to the prisoners in turn.

As they move, Rune takes up a position at the rear, keeping an eye on their flank to make sure that they are not surprised by Charneth forces. "I'm sorry for your friend. I know how dangerous the Charneth can be. They must have been very brave." She offers in the Draconic tongue, then quiets as the group moves.

At the call for more healing, Rune adds, "I have a couple of potions, but they're mead and I don't know if getting them drunk is the best idea. Not unless it's an emergency."


Andelena goes with the group, taking care with the sith-makar leaning on her. "It'll be all right," she urges them all. Her voice warm and compassionate in a way that it can be when she's not cussing up a storm or cleaving apart her enemies with Deliverance. She's focused entirely on getting everyone out and into safety. Into a place where the three makari can begin to recover.

"Holy Knight, give them the strength they will need in the days, weeks, months, and years to come," she murmurs. For she knows that they'll need it. She _knows_.


"Then think fast, Brass." Aelwyn snaps his teeth at Schara. "Time spent is time spent bleeding." Far was he from his self. Tail moving behind him, he uses his glaive to also support some of the heavy weight, grunting as he moves along the hallways. "Perhaps one of us should scout ahead, lest we get ambushed along the way." He suggests.


The Sith-makar lean on the Adventurers. Moving with them. The pace back to the entrance is slow, but steady. Thanks to Rune's food, they seem to recover quite well. Heading further and further until they get to that worrisome 'thinning of the veil' at the entrance.

Aelwyn taking partial lead to scout ahead, dragging the amber Sith-makar with him, finds that the rest of the party lets him move ahead. No dangers. The doors still open.

Until they get near the front door.

There's scratching outside. Clawing. The crumbling of stone. The same to the north. And the movement of fire...


Schara hesitates at the door, looking at the body that was still there. "I can't think fast, there's too many options." Schara rambles. "Let's just go. I'll get the other body when we return."

With Rune in the front, Schara takes the rear, in cast they're ambushed from behind. She had proven capable of taking a fireball for the most part, it was the prisoners with them she was concerned about. Only to hesitate at the main room from before.

Skielstregar rolls Will: 1d20 + 7: 13 + 7 = 20

Skielstregar freezes as he hears the scratching sounds. He wasn't precisely sure where he knew that from, but it was back in his mind, from an old memory. "... thiss one... doesssn't like thi..."

He stops talking. His fingers slack.

Malefic twists at Skiel. "... Warrior."

They curl tighter, his gaze drifting towards Schara, Rune, Andelena. He looks down at Setl, his dead eyes wide. "... are you... you sure?" he hisses back at them. "No... no..."

"Warrior," Malefic growls.

He suddenly shoves Setl behind him and body blocks her. "YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!" he snarls at the group, eyes growing crimson. Black ichor pooling. "CHARN CRAVENS!"

Malefic suddenly slurks out of Skiel's grip. "By my shiny rear's sake, can you not do this again?!" Malefic growls. "LET ME BITE HIS STUPID SHINY REAR AND I'LL FIX THIS!"


Aelwyn looks at the sounds - of course it couldn't be that easy. Yet his body was primed for a step, a familiar rush of adrenaline and excitement starting to near him.

That is, until Skielstregar happened.

"F-fh-" The ruddy sith-makar hisses, attempting to three hold the wounded Makari, keep an eye out for the new threats, and understand what is going on. "Shield the wounded! Slap the Silver!"


Andelena growls as it seems enemies are upon them. "Fuck no," she snarls. "You'll need to get through me to get through them."

She can't draw her sword in the moment that she has. All she does is warn the others--"Get BEHIND ME. Skielstregar! The Knight needs you -- needs us!" She shouts to her comrade-in-Daeus.

Rune rolls Perception: 1d20 + 18: 16 + 18 = 34
Rune rolls Sense Motive: 1d20 + 8: 13 + 8 = 21

As the group enters the room with that first, strange rift, Rune hesitates in the doorway. She looks North, spotting some movement in the shadows. "Uh. Guys... I think those statues we passed weren't statues. Incoming form the North." She warns them, moving to get into a defensive position to guard the party's back.

And then, she catches a sound that makes her ear twitch. Her eyes dart towards the Silver-scaled female that Skielstregar was helping. Rune's eyes narrow and she stares with suspicion. She wastes a brief moment cursing in draconic.

"The silver-scaled one, she's got Skielstregar under some kind of control!" Rune calls out, as if it weren't obvious that something has happened. "If the other two move to act, assume they're enemies, too!"

As much as Rune would hate to believe that all of these ones they rescued are allied with the Charneth, it seems quite possible at the moment.


Schara continued moving a bit more, only to freeze up again. The artificer stares at the prisoners for a long moment. "That doesn't make any sense. None of this makes sense. Why would they act like that, after all this?" Schara wonders out loud. "Keep them safe as much as possible, they may be controlled themselves, that's the only thing that would make sense to me, but I might just be wrong again."

The artificer readies their weapon again, keeping it pointed away from their group, but they are watching the others, just in case.

<OOC> Skielstregar says, "skiel rages and pulls out warhammer. Malefic bites his ass and casts Protection from Evil at the same time."
Skielstregar rolls Will: 1d20 + 7 + 2 + 2 : 12 + 11 = 23

Skielstregar turns his ire to the closest craven. The brass clad figure right in front of him. He pulls the black metal warhammer free of its frog. "THESE CHARNITES MUST DIE!" he snarls, fangs and talons extending. Undead power raging through him-

"DRAGONFATHER, HEAR ME!" Malefic yells, it's maw filling with bright white light as it suddenly >CHOMPS< down on Skiel's tail.

Forgottten-Skiel pauses. Blinking. Then white light erupts from his backside as his eyes shine a beacon bright white. Burning out the influence.

He staggers. Turns to Setl slowly. And crimson eyes turn to slits. "I am going to beat the SCALES off your SMUG FACE!" he shouts.

Malefic cackles gleefully.