Your search will take about 5-10 minutes, but you're able to find some reports within the desk of the office-like room dealing with routine tasks. They make mention of the entity, which the document refers to as an "arcane constructed intelligence" abbreviated to ACI. This one seems to have been named Deep Winter.
"They will understand, once the ascension is upon us." Meksa says simply. "They will be without bounds, without limits. We need not even stay here on Imane. What reason would there be to fight?"
He shifts in the bindings, looking towards the heart of Seidarch Karvas. "And the unworthy will be rooted out. As you have done here with dear Karvas."
"Found it,"Ilya says, reading over the reports. "Deep Winter...Alright, let's go back."
Once they've returned to the others, she raises an eyebrow and looks towards LT, whom she's noticed exercises far more caution than any of them. "This may go very poorly for us. Once the heart is loosed, the intelligence it was suppressing is going to wake up...And the first thing it's probably going to do is try and reactivate defenses unless we can convince it we belong here..."
"Do you have a different plan we could try first? I'll admit, I'm not great at coming up with this kind of stuff."
Lyra, never one to shut up easily, continues to converse philosophically with Meksa, hoping to prolong the dialog, possibly gleaning more cultish creed and lore, but also distracting the priest from the fact that he is being held captive, and as cover for whatever the others plan to do.
An ironic chord lingers in the air well after the harmonica parts from her darkened lips.
"Ah, to be sure, Meksa. 'The unworthy will be rooted out,' you say. As we rooted out Seidarch Karvas. So. Shall we catalysts be the ones to determine who is worthy of immortality and deification on one hand, and who is rooted out on the other? Somehow, I think not. Shall it be Sotos who decides, then? You ask what reason there would be to fight if we are to be freed of mortal bonds. Karvas fought, I seem to recall. As did you. Will you go quietly if yours is the branch to be pruned prior to achieving a rapturous destiny, Meksa?"
"If the Highblood was more forthcoming with her plans, Meksa would not have joined the fray." He says, awkwardly settling down into a sitting position on the floor. "We are difficult to kill, we are not gods yet."
The priest smiles, "Meksa will never go quietly. The choice will not be made by you, or me, or the Grand Seidarch. It will come down to the individual themselves, and the strength of their will." He glances once more towards the heart. "Seidarch Karvas's will was lacking clearly."
"You ask many questions, but will you answer them too?" His head tilts to the side. "You seem quite interested in taking the heart of Karvas. Do you mean to aid our cause after all?"
Both Ilya (and to his disappointment, the priest) raise questions that give the knight pause. His brow furrows. Did they really even want to do this? He supposed it would not hurt to play along for now...But they were already responsible for enough damage to Imane, intentional or not. They needed to proceed carefully.
A question of his own comes to mind.
"Priest. What happens upon the Grand Seidarch's return? What does he do next?"
"If the Highblood was more forthcoming with her plans, Meksa would not have joined the fray." He says, awkwardly settling down into a sitting position on the floor. "We are difficult to kill, we are not gods yet."
The priest smiles, "Meksa will never go quietly. The choice will not be made by you, or me, or the Grand Seidarch. It will come down to the individual themselves, and the strength of their will." He glances once more towards the heart. "Seidarch Karvas's will was lacking clearly."
"You ask many questions, but will you answer them too?" His head tilts to the side. "You seem quite interested in taking the heart of Karvas. Do you mean to aid our cause after all?"
Lyra smiles and murmurs, almost to herself. "As we were unwitting thralls and puppets for weeks on end during our time as catalysts, our own individual intentions and free will seem to be worth less than one tarnished copper piece to the Seidarchs. Why should they matter now?"
Nevertheless, she waits to see if Meksa has any reaction to Kalamin's direct question.
Meksa closes his eyes in quiet consideration for a moment before opening them once more. "We reforge the empire, and begin again the great work towards apotheosis. This, Meksa imagines you will find unpalatable. For our empire to live again, yours must die. Your leaders will not surrender easily. They will raise their armies against us. And they will be broken."
He looks around the walls of the room. "These Wardens of yours will have their own preparations. But it matters not. They have not the knowledge of Mek, nor the raw chaotic power of the Abominate. They too, will fall."
He answers Lyra's quiet question. "Because now your own will is necessary. If the Highblood was still capable of enthralling you, she would."
Leftenant watched Lyra and Meksa conversed as Ilya and Kal went off. He followed the conversation but had nothing new to add, and no deep revelations that needed answering. In fact, it seemed that the one nagging question was answered when Meksa spoke about Magda no longer having power over our flesh. That she needed to persuade the group now. And she was apparently getting what she wanted. Whether that was a good thing would soon be realized.
As Ilya asked for his cooperation in dealing with the intelligence being stifled by the Seidarch’s Heart, he had no other opinion. “I will assist where I can. I’d prefer to not be blown up by this thing. But I make no promises on being the most convincing in dissuading its attempts at cleansing. I will not hold back from trying to stay its efforts just the same.”
As Kal started to remove the heart, LT ensured that the Ward soldier cloak he obtained was as prominently displayed as possible.
Perhaps he was a bit relieved that something was going to happen, for the better or the worse.
"See the trouble is, Meksa," Lyra murmurs almost apologetically to the mad priest as she cuts a strip of cloth from her cloak to blindfold him and check his restraints. "You have to know your audience. A bard who was a... mentor to me once told me that. Words to live by."
"Once you take away someone's free will, as Maggie did with us. Transform them into puppets for your own ends. Enslave them. Expecting them, once they liberate themselves from your bonds, to then fall in line and willingly support your mad cause reflects a poor understanding of a person's psyche."
Lyra smiles thoughtfully, though the blindfolded Meksa can no longer see her face. "Perhaps just as the slaves of the Vae'ra rose up against them to become the Nalkir, those controlled by your Carnomancy too shall rise against you as you strive to become gods."
She taps her finger on her lips. "And who knows. Toto may not be the only way to survive the one you call Abominate."
Meksa gives a crooked grin, and shrugs. "I have heard that pledge before knight, and I daresay I will hear it again!" He doesn't struggle as the bard places a blindfold under his eyes, nor does he argue.
Kalamin slides his fingers underneath the flesh of the heart, pulling up with all of his might. There are a few loud pops as sections of it give - sections that had morphed their physiology to act as suction cups to secure the heart to the glass surface. Artery-like tendrils whip around as the paladin pulls the heart completely free of the crystal orb. They try to wrap around his arms and overpower him, but with a few forceful movements he gets them under control, wrestling the living heart into submission.
The luminescence given off by the flesh coating the walls, floor and ceiling begins to fade as the flesh itself rapidly decays. At the same time, a soft blue glow begins to radiate from the crystal orb. The barely lit fire within the wall-mounted lanterns placed throughout this entire underground structure flare to life, burning a white flame that gives off a neutral light.
Within the orb, you see the ghostly image of a snowflake begin to form. A flurry soon follows, swirling about and mixing together until they form the projection of an old man. He's clad in a gray robes, with icy-blue eyes and chiseled features. Standing within the confines of the the orb, his blue eyes gaze around the room. He smiles, and speaks with deep voice of an old man. "You have 15 seconds to make prayers to your misguided prophet, you vile flesh cultists."
The illusory-looking "wizard," conjures a chair and tobacco pipe, taking a leisurely seat. "14..."He takes a puff from the pipe. The fires within the wall-mounted lanterns bleed red, bathing the room and the hall outside in a ruby light. "13..."
Lyra steps forward and plays a sharp chord on her dark harmonica to draw the attention of the gray-clad apparition within the orb. The bard projects her voice calmly and without panic as she has been trained. Appealing to logic and reason to persuade the illusory blue-eyed 'wizard'.
"We are no flesh cultists as can be deduced from the fact that we have slain the Nalkir abomination whose heart encased you until just now, and sent his fear-stricken spirit back through the rift. As far as I know, we remain the only denizens of this world who are aware of this 'apotheosis' the Nalkir intend, and despite having been captives (as you are), now plan to fight back. So destroy us, and you destroy any chance to thwart them."
She prods Meksa with her foot. "This one, you may take. Our captive from battle. A mad priest and fanatic of the Nalkir who once gleefully spread disease among his enemies. He has told us of this divine ascension the Carnomancers seek, and we have just sworn to him that they will not succeed."
"Ah." The apparitionpauses, taking another puff from the illusory pipe.
"So you are intruders of a different kind."He taps the stem of the pipe against his lip, and shrugs. "The site has been breached. Orders are orders I fear." His countdown resumes, and Meksa begins to laugh maniacally.
Leftenant quickly steps forward unsure that he would be able to turn the sentient from its programming but trying none-the-less.
“I don’t deny that I’m an intruder, that I’ve been unaware of Overwatch’s mission my entire life. But from what I’ve learned so far is that my life’s work of protecting Imane from threats isn’t that far from Ward’s mission.Under different circumstances, perhaps my path would have crossed the Ward’s sooner. Grant us a chance to prove our intentions…to avenge Thalorin Lightbody, Borin, Kael, Mel, Director Olso, and the others.”
Ilya prepares to step forward to still attempt her deception, passing off the others as mercenaries...But she's too slow, and the ranger speaks first. So instead she waits to see how the arcane creature will respond.
"10..."Deep Winter's voice falters, and he turns his head to look at the older soldier. With a wave of his hand, the light of the flames returns to its neutral color. "Prove your intentions you say?" His gaze flicks to Lyra, "you are incorrect in assuming that you remain the only ones aware of the Nalkir."
The pipe and chair disappear in a flurry of snowflakes as he stands, clearing his throat, he addresses Leftenant again. "You wish to prove your intentions? I will alert my fellow ACI in Neressa of this development. They will send a team here. Remain, and protect this place until they can arrive."
The Seidarch's heart flops onto the floor, pulsing as its arteries writhe about. As the flask bursts against it setting it aflame, you hear a sound not unlike a screech as it burns. Deep Winter watches with an impassive face as the heart dies.
"You match the descriptions of several persons of interests in relation to the Nalkir cultists. Though there is one missing among your number. A tiefling woman?"
Meksa speaks up suddenly, "Is there something wrong with your bomb?" He asks in a sing-song voice. The ghostly wizard looks to Lyra. "Gag him will you?"
Ilya looks between the blind-folded priest and the arcane construct. Her eyes narrow, and she begins to play closer attention to Deep Winter's facial expressions and voice. "Is he right?"
Kal & Ilya
Your search will take about 5-10 minutes, but you're able to find some reports within the desk of the office-like room dealing with routine tasks. They make mention of the entity, which the document refers to as an "arcane constructed intelligence" abbreviated to ACI. This one seems to have been named Deep Winter.
"They will understand, once the ascension is upon us." Meksa says simply. "They will be without bounds, without limits. We need not even stay here on Imane. What reason would there be to fight?"
He shifts in the bindings, looking towards the heart of Seidarch Karvas. "And the unworthy will be rooted out. As you have done here with dear Karvas."
"Found it," Ilya says, reading over the reports. "Deep Winter...Alright, let's go back."
Once they've returned to the others, she raises an eyebrow and looks towards LT, whom she's noticed exercises far more caution than any of them. "This may go very poorly for us. Once the heart is loosed, the intelligence it was suppressing is going to wake up...And the first thing it's probably going to do is try and reactivate defenses unless we can convince it we belong here..."
"Do you have a different plan we could try first? I'll admit, I'm not great at coming up with this kind of stuff."
Lyra, never one to shut up easily, continues to converse philosophically with Meksa, hoping to prolong the dialog, possibly gleaning more cultish creed and lore, but also distracting the priest from the fact that he is being held captive, and as cover for whatever the others plan to do.
An ironic chord lingers in the air well after the harmonica parts from her darkened lips.
"Ah, to be sure, Meksa. 'The unworthy will be rooted out,' you say. As we rooted out Seidarch Karvas. So. Shall we catalysts be the ones to determine who is worthy of immortality and deification on one hand, and who is rooted out on the other? Somehow, I think not. Shall it be Sotos who decides, then? You ask what reason there would be to fight if we are to be freed of mortal bonds. Karvas fought, I seem to recall. As did you. Will you go quietly if yours is the branch to be pruned prior to achieving a rapturous destiny, Meksa?"
Sabetha(Monk2):DungeonMair's Rime/Inge(Barbarian2):Krayveneer's After the Fall/Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1):Uhtred's Windward Isles/Barn(Paladin1):Nyx's ToA
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric4):Vos' Beyond the Veil/Soren(Druid4):Bartjeebus' Ravenloft/Nivi(Rogue3):Raiketsu's CoS/Lyra(Warlock2/Bard3):BlameItOnWinter's Will of the Ancients
Joren(Fighter6):NotDrizzt's Simple Request/Quyen(Adept1):Constance's Nentir Vale/Toa(Barbarian6/Fighter4):MrWhisker's Dark Lord's Return
"If the Highblood was more forthcoming with her plans, Meksa would not have joined the fray." He says, awkwardly settling down into a sitting position on the floor. "We are difficult to kill, we are not gods yet."
The priest smiles, "Meksa will never go quietly. The choice will not be made by you, or me, or the Grand Seidarch. It will come down to the individual themselves, and the strength of their will." He glances once more towards the heart. "Seidarch Karvas's will was lacking clearly."
"You ask many questions, but will you answer them too?" His head tilts to the side. "You seem quite interested in taking the heart of Karvas. Do you mean to aid our cause after all?"
Both Ilya (and to his disappointment, the priest) raise questions that give the knight pause. His brow furrows. Did they really even want to do this? He supposed it would not hurt to play along for now...But they were already responsible for enough damage to Imane, intentional or not. They needed to proceed carefully.
A question of his own comes to mind.
"Priest. What happens upon the Grand Seidarch's return? What does he do next?"
Lyra smiles and murmurs, almost to herself. "As we were unwitting thralls and puppets for weeks on end during our time as catalysts, our own individual intentions and free will seem to be worth less than one tarnished copper piece to the Seidarchs. Why should they matter now?"
Nevertheless, she waits to see if Meksa has any reaction to Kalamin's direct question.
Sabetha(Monk2):DungeonMair's Rime/Inge(Barbarian2):Krayveneer's After the Fall/Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1):Uhtred's Windward Isles/Barn(Paladin1):Nyx's ToA
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric4):Vos' Beyond the Veil/Soren(Druid4):Bartjeebus' Ravenloft/Nivi(Rogue3):Raiketsu's CoS/Lyra(Warlock2/Bard3):BlameItOnWinter's Will of the Ancients
Joren(Fighter6):NotDrizzt's Simple Request/Quyen(Adept1):Constance's Nentir Vale/Toa(Barbarian6/Fighter4):MrWhisker's Dark Lord's Return
Meksa closes his eyes in quiet consideration for a moment before opening them once more. "We reforge the empire, and begin again the great work towards apotheosis. This, Meksa imagines you will find unpalatable. For our empire to live again, yours must die. Your leaders will not surrender easily. They will raise their armies against us. And they will be broken."
He looks around the walls of the room. "These Wardens of yours will have their own preparations. But it matters not. They have not the knowledge of Mek, nor the raw chaotic power of the Abominate. They too, will fall."
He answers Lyra's quiet question. "Because now your own will is necessary. If the Highblood was still capable of enthralling you, she would."
Kalamin raises his brows. "Unpalatable is too weak a word for the revulsion I feel, priest. On my life I swear, you will not succeed."
"Regardless, this abomination needs to go." He says, wrapping his hands around the enlarged heart of Karvas as best he can, and pulling.
Strength: 21
Leftenant watched Lyra and Meksa conversed as Ilya and Kal went off. He followed the conversation but had nothing new to add, and no deep revelations that needed answering. In fact, it seemed that the one nagging question was answered when Meksa spoke about Magda no longer having power over our flesh. That she needed to persuade the group now. And she was apparently getting what she wanted. Whether that was a good thing would soon be realized.
As Ilya asked for his cooperation in dealing with the intelligence being stifled by the Seidarch’s Heart, he had no other opinion. “I will assist where I can. I’d prefer to not be blown up by this thing. But I make no promises on being the most convincing in dissuading its attempts at cleansing. I will not hold back from trying to stay its efforts just the same.”
As Kal started to remove the heart, LT ensured that the Ward soldier cloak he obtained was as prominently displayed as possible.
Perhaps he was a bit relieved that something was going to happen, for the better or the worse.
"See the trouble is, Meksa," Lyra murmurs almost apologetically to the mad priest as she cuts a strip of cloth from her cloak to blindfold him and check his restraints. "You have to know your audience. A bard who was a... mentor to me once told me that. Words to live by."
"Once you take away someone's free will, as Maggie did with us. Transform them into puppets for your own ends. Enslave them. Expecting them, once they liberate themselves from your bonds, to then fall in line and willingly support your mad cause reflects a poor understanding of a person's psyche."
Lyra smiles thoughtfully, though the blindfolded Meksa can no longer see her face. "Perhaps just as the slaves of the Vae'ra rose up against them to become the Nalkir, those controlled by your Carnomancy too shall rise against you as you strive to become gods."
She taps her finger on her lips. "And who knows. Toto may not be the only way to survive the one you call Abominate."
Sabetha(Monk2):DungeonMair's Rime/Inge(Barbarian2):Krayveneer's After the Fall/Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1):Uhtred's Windward Isles/Barn(Paladin1):Nyx's ToA
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric4):Vos' Beyond the Veil/Soren(Druid4):Bartjeebus' Ravenloft/Nivi(Rogue3):Raiketsu's CoS/Lyra(Warlock2/Bard3):BlameItOnWinter's Will of the Ancients
Joren(Fighter6):NotDrizzt's Simple Request/Quyen(Adept1):Constance's Nentir Vale/Toa(Barbarian6/Fighter4):MrWhisker's Dark Lord's Return
Meksa gives a crooked grin, and shrugs. "I have heard that pledge before knight, and I daresay I will hear it again!" He doesn't struggle as the bard places a blindfold under his eyes, nor does he argue.
Kalamin slides his fingers underneath the flesh of the heart, pulling up with all of his might. There are a few loud pops as sections of it give - sections that had morphed their physiology to act as suction cups to secure the heart to the glass surface. Artery-like tendrils whip around as the paladin pulls the heart completely free of the crystal orb. They try to wrap around his arms and overpower him, but with a few forceful movements he gets them under control, wrestling the living heart into submission.
The luminescence given off by the flesh coating the walls, floor and ceiling begins to fade as the flesh itself rapidly decays. At the same time, a soft blue glow begins to radiate from the crystal orb. The barely lit fire within the wall-mounted lanterns placed throughout this entire underground structure flare to life, burning a white flame that gives off a neutral light.
Within the orb, you see the ghostly image of a snowflake begin to form. A flurry soon follows, swirling about and mixing together until they form the projection of an old man. He's clad in a gray robes, with icy-blue eyes and chiseled features. Standing within the confines of the the orb, his blue eyes gaze around the room. He smiles, and speaks with deep voice of an old man. "You have 15 seconds to make prayers to your misguided prophet, you vile flesh cultists."
The illusory-looking "wizard," conjures a chair and tobacco pipe, taking a leisurely seat. "14..." He takes a puff from the pipe. The fires within the wall-mounted lanterns bleed red, bathing the room and the hall outside in a ruby light. "13..."
Lyra steps forward and plays a sharp chord on her dark harmonica to draw the attention of the gray-clad apparition within the orb. The bard projects her voice calmly and without panic as she has been trained. Appealing to logic and reason to persuade the illusory blue-eyed 'wizard'.
"We are no flesh cultists as can be deduced from the fact that we have slain the Nalkir abomination whose heart encased you until just now, and sent his fear-stricken spirit back through the rift. As far as I know, we remain the only denizens of this world who are aware of this 'apotheosis' the Nalkir intend, and despite having been captives (as you are), now plan to fight back. So destroy us, and you destroy any chance to thwart them."
She prods Meksa with her foot. "This one, you may take. Our captive from battle. A mad priest and fanatic of the Nalkir who once gleefully spread disease among his enemies. He has told us of this divine ascension the Carnomancers seek, and we have just sworn to him that they will not succeed."
Lyra's Persuasion: 20 (dirty)
Sabetha(Monk2):DungeonMair's Rime/Inge(Barbarian2):Krayveneer's After the Fall/Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1):Uhtred's Windward Isles/Barn(Paladin1):Nyx's ToA
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric4):Vos' Beyond the Veil/Soren(Druid4):Bartjeebus' Ravenloft/Nivi(Rogue3):Raiketsu's CoS/Lyra(Warlock2/Bard3):BlameItOnWinter's Will of the Ancients
Joren(Fighter6):NotDrizzt's Simple Request/Quyen(Adept1):Constance's Nentir Vale/Toa(Barbarian6/Fighter4):MrWhisker's Dark Lord's Return
"Ah." The apparition pauses, taking another puff from the illusory pipe.
"So you are intruders of a different kind." He taps the stem of the pipe against his lip, and shrugs. "The site has been breached. Orders are orders I fear." His countdown resumes, and Meksa begins to laugh maniacally.
"12..."
Leftenant quickly steps forward unsure that he would be able to turn the sentient from its programming but trying none-the-less.
“I don’t deny that I’m an intruder, that I’ve been unaware of Overwatch’s mission my entire life. But from what I’ve learned so far is that my life’s work of protecting Imane from threats isn’t that far from Ward’s mission. Under different circumstances, perhaps my path would have crossed the Ward’s sooner. Grant us a chance to prove our intentions…to avenge Thalorin Lightbody, Borin, Kael, Mel, Director Olso, and the others.”
“…or let me finally find peace.”
Ilya prepares to step forward to still attempt her deception, passing off the others as mercenaries...But she's too slow, and the ranger speaks first. So instead she waits to see how the arcane creature will respond.
"10..." Deep Winter's voice falters, and he turns his head to look at the older soldier. With a wave of his hand, the light of the flames returns to its neutral color. "Prove your intentions you say?" His gaze flicks to Lyra, "you are incorrect in assuming that you remain the only ones aware of the Nalkir."
The pipe and chair disappear in a flurry of snowflakes as he stands, clearing his throat, he addresses Leftenant again. "You wish to prove your intentions? I will alert my fellow ACI in Neressa of this development. They will send a team here. Remain, and protect this place until they can arrive."
Kalamin throws the oversized heart onto the floor away from the arcane orb, slinging a flask of alchemist's fire after it.
Improvised Ranged Attack to Hit: 9
"Do you know who we are?" He asks the ghostly wizard contained within the orb.
The Seidarch's heart flops onto the floor, pulsing as its arteries writhe about. As the flask bursts against it setting it aflame, you hear a sound not unlike a screech as it burns. Deep Winter watches with an impassive face as the heart dies.
"You match the descriptions of several persons of interests in relation to the Nalkir cultists. Though there is one missing among your number. A tiefling woman?"
Meksa speaks up suddenly, "Is there something wrong with your bomb?" He asks in a sing-song voice. The ghostly wizard looks to Lyra. "Gag him will you?"
Ilya looks between the blind-folded priest and the arcane construct. Her eyes narrow, and she begins to play closer attention to Deep Winter's facial expressions and voice. "Is he right?"
Insight:13
You notice a slight strain in the incorporeal wizard's voice as he answers. "He speaks nonsense. My terms, do you agree to them?"