This is it. This is the moment. You will not fail. You cannot fail. You must not fail. For if you do, everything you’ve ever known and loved will burn down in a cataclysm. You have three days to delve into the dungeon, to find the artifact, and to destroy the shrine of the God-King. No big deal. You got this. You’ve trained for months with your fellow teammates, forming close bonds and tight friendships. Now, it’s time to put your bravery. Your tenacity, your skill, and your teamwork to the test. Success means everything you’ve ever wanted. Failure means the world will end. Failure is not an option.

You stand in front of the tomb, its marble entrance set into the face of a cliff, your armor and weapons gleaming in the light of the dawn. When the sun casts over the Barrier Mountains, the timer will begin. You know what to do. The crowd are held back by fences and royal guards, as they watch and cheer and talk among themselves. You are the heroes of the realm after all, You’re practically celebrities.

A wooden platform has been erected to the side of the Tomb’s entrance, royal banners of purple and gold fluttering in the morning breeze. Two guards stand resolute at each end of the platform, their rigid postures never wavering, the points of their spears polished and upright.

Suddenly, the guards begin to bow as a figure appears on the platform. The sound of a trumpet begins to blow, echoing from the mountainside down into the valley far below you. The audience looks up at the platform and then goes crazy. They scream and shout, as they stare upon their mighty and regal ruler, King Valoorius, monarch of the realm. His long, colored robes flow to the ground, the colors of the realm glowing rich and vibrant, as his clothes seem to be coated with some sort of refractive dust. He spreads his hands, and the audience hushes.

Then, he begins to speak “My friends, my subjects, we have gathered here today to see off our bravest heroes, so that they save us from our horrible plight and appease the High Gods. When the sun rises over the mountains, the door will open and our heroes will step forth into a dark and dangerous trial in order to save us all!”

The crowd cheers at this, and they all turn to you as you stand there, outfitted in your gear, ready to face your destiny, if such a thing does exist.

What is your character thinking at this momentous second of their life, and what do they do when the crowd turns to look at them?

Tali'Zorah wishes she could be a halfling right now. Or a gnome. Or a... pebble. Anything small, tiny, and inconspicuous to all those eyes. Gods, please, let this be over with. She doesn’t even care about the myriad of dangers that await them inside the Tomb and just wishes she wasn’t standing right here, with all those people—and the King!—focused on them. She could just wildshape into a mouse... but that wouldn’t be too heroic, would it? And everyone is expecting precisely that.

The earth genasi closes her honey-colored eyes for a moment and tries to focus on her breathing while this is happening. "Come on, Tali, you can do this. This will be over soon. Just count to ten," she thinks as she takes a few steps backwards, closer to the entrance of the Tomb, and further from the crowd. Let the others take the spotlight, and hopefully shield her from their gaze...

Victor Slaybeast stands amongst his fellow heroes, sporting his signature grin and perfectly combed hair. Despite the world shatteringly important task ahead, he can't help but think about the people around him. Not in a sentimental way of course, that would be crazy, no, he's more concerned about the fans. He waves to the crowd, blows a few kisses to maidens he's never met, and showboats by examining his perfect face in his golden mirror that alone costs more than what some of these peasants will ever earn in a thousand years. 

When the spotlight shines brighter onto him (for he is always the centre of attention, at least in his mind), he extends his arms to make him seem even bigger than he is, and walks around in a circle so the masses can really get a good look at him and his amour, his cloak flapping in the wind like the cape of hero. He calls out to the crowds 'Don't you worry, this task will be a piece of cake for me and my comrades. Quelling the High God's temper is almost like a family affair to me, after all! If you thought these looks were divine, you'd be right, it isn't just my good genes that make me the dazzling star I am!' Technically that's true, it isn't just good genes, it's years of routine disguise self spells cast on him until a little magic rubs off and sticks, but that doesn't matter too much.

He then tones down his jesting and boastfulness to focus on the task at hand as the time comes to enter the Tomb of the Divine. A hand at his sun blade's hilt and another at his arcane focus, his cloak of displacement shifting and warping in the sunlight, all he can mutter is 'It's showtime!'

Loramar’s quiet gaze takes in the crowd, the guards, the king, Tali’Zorah’s disquiet, the resolute stone of the tomb and the enduring warmth of the rising sun.  He stands still, ready.  “This is being made into a spectacle,” he quietly whispers to Tali’Zorah.  “We should be entering quietly and undistracted.”  He adds to himself, “I  would prefer forest to mines…”

Silas Mournstar takes in the crowd, drawing energy from it as he appears aloof, but in a way he knows will leave them wanting more. He pulls back his hood, his brooding rugged countenance not quite outshining Victor. In a low voice, he responds to Loramar, "Let them have their fun, they will never understand the horrors and the sacrifices we are about to undergo."

Standing in front of a crowd is nothing new to Cyan. They have been on the stage from the moment they could stand on their own. They have been delighting packed stands with theatrics for almost as long too. Cyan immediately begins playing their bandura, almost out of instinct, and once they have a tune laid down that they like, Cyan casts Minor Illusion to add some drums and a distortion effect that matches the strings. 

I will save my parents. No matter the cost. Cyan thinks to themself. Their sparkling hair and glittering shirt moving to the beat of their music, daring to outshine, literally, the king himself; audacity that only a celebrity performer could get away with. Cyan understands the power of hope and decides to stoke the flames of this emotion, which should help keep the peace and keep people working together while the party is away. Cyan listens to Deth and Silas exchange words and chooses to utilize them, should they be willing. 

“Silas, brandish your sword.” Cyan directs in their honeyed voice. “People see comically large weapons as symbols of power.”

Looking to Deth, Cyan asks, “Death, would you be willing to add a shower of sparks as I land before Silas?”

Before an answer can be given, Cyan strolls ahead of the group toward the crowd, continuing to play and increasing the tempo. At just the right moment, Cyan begins a series of back handsprings, building up momentum to perform a back handspring back tuck, to land just before Silas (hopefully) holding his sword aloft. 

OOC: 19 performance

12 acrobatics (nat 1)

The first minute of this is what is playing.

OOC: I love the inconvenient rolls that foreshadow the tone of the rest of the game! Ominous!

Focused as she is on keeping calm and stepping away from the crowd, Tali flinches slightly when Loramar addresses her. "Uh? Oh! Loramar..." Her gaze shifts from the high elf back to the crowd, she sighs, then looks at him again, adding, "I would really prefer that, too. Unlike..." She points to Victor and shrugs slightly. "Though, maybe it's also meant to give people hope? I think I'll stick to that thought; it makes me feel a little better."

When Silas joins in, she gives a slight nod in agreement. And as he mentions the horrors, the earth genasi remembers something. Just as Cyan's music takes over the crowd, Tali concentrates on casting a spell in the background. Waving her fingers in a series of fluid movements, she mutters in Druidic, "Rhodd natur, bwydo ac ymwrthod."

A set of ten berries appears in the palm of her hand, which she then quietly offers to each member of the party after Cyan's performance is over, storing the rest in her pouch. "Keep these. They might come in handy," she explains.

Then she turns to Radu, to whom she offers a small pouch. "Here. You can bring people back from the dead, too. It's better if we split this."

A shower of golden sparks erupt from the ground below Cyan’s feet as they land.  Hissing and sputtering they dance in a wave across the ground.

Loramar uses Prestidigitation as subtly as he can.

Silent like a shadow he studied the entrance of the tomb. His face a mask of blood and flesh, devoid of any emotion but the deepest concentration. Radu understood the need of the spectacle. Surrounded by hunger and tragedy, the people needed a distraction. Above all from the fact that the power shown by the king was pitifully devoid of meaning. The man lacked the strength to so much as challenge the dungeon, let alone solve the plight of the land his family would proudly claim as theirs. Awful lot those claims did before the curses, thought the Moon Druid with contempt. It were Tali'Zorah’s words that brough him back to reality.

“Rydych chi’n iawn. Diolch” He answered in druidic, taking the powder. “Mae’n well i ni osgoi sôn am atgyfodiad yn yr iaith gyffredin. O leiaf nes i ni fynd i mewn i’r beddrod.”

 It was an ability better left unconfirmed. Many died unfairly and many more would seek to hem them returned at any price. It would be a matter of time until the circles became targeted, the apprentices and forests threatened he could remember his master speaking. Not that would need to worry about that if they failed.

”It’s a good thing some of us are entertainers.” Radu voice carried a tranquility almost ethereal, like not even the challenge before them, with the highest of stakes, bothered him in the slightest. It was not a sign of confidence, the keener eye would notice, but simple pragmatism. The Moon Druid would worry only about that which he could, mayhaps, change. He decided that was the best use of his energies. The one that could allow him more chances, however small, to make more of a difference. His eyes glanced the crowd for but a moment and he wished to help them be it with his life or his death.

The party walks forward, in full display of the crowd. At first, they simply walk, but then Cyan pipes up, telling the others to put on a spectacle.

Victor spread his hands bombastically, flashing a winning smile at a particular group of young ladies as he proclaims how easy this task will be. Or at least, he thinks it will be easy. meanwhile, Silas walks ahead with long strides, sword brandished and countentance aloof, though his own moves never take attention away from Victor. As it should be. Silas has no place in his heart for fame and theatrics, but he understands the importance of morale.

Loramar prepares his magic, ready to add to the theatricality of it, as he converses softly with the rest of the party. Though the spectacle makes him uncomfortable, nevertheless he delivers when Cyan lands

Speaking of Cyan, they stroll out in front of the group, playing a song that should be impossible to play on a Bandura, and yet, they somehow do it. They use just a touch of magic to amplify and supplement the sound, causing the music to ring out over the crowd.

The music builds, and at the right moment, they pluck a string and a long note warbles in the air, lasting a lot longer than the rules of reality should normally allow. As this sound rings out, Cyan sheaths their instrument and begins to run, before launching into an acrobatic move, their light, agile body soaring through the air in a graceful arch. 

As Cyan flies through the air, they release their mistake too late. They launched too early and find themselves flying towards an armored figure: Silas. They crash into the paladin's back, sending both of them tumbling to the ground. At that moment, Loramar activates their sparks, but the spell goes awry, the elf thrown off by the rising catastrophe, and instead puffs of flame burst forth, which sets part of Cyan's hair on fire. Cyan manages to stamp it out, but the crowd has now gone silent. 

Everything is still, and the crowd looks on with a mixture of horror, disappointment, as well as a few individuals who are still excited until they realize that no one else is.

Meanwhile, the rest of the party looks on as they softly converse, preparing for the trial to come.

What do you do?

Smoke billows up from Cyan's head as they smother the flames on their once perfect hair. I'll have to cut the hair to even that out. Cyan thinks to themself as they continue to lie on the ground. As they stand, they brush off the street grime from their black leather pants. "I have performed that exact back tuck 9,945 times with perfect execution, and countless other, near flawless completed back tucks before that. I suppose that a 0.010055304% chance of failure is... acceptable." Their controlled, expressionless face would make it difficult to determine whether they are being truthful, but having trained with Cyan for some time would undoubtedly suggest to the group that the statement has at least some basis in truth.

"Does anyone have any ideas on how to salvage my blunder?" Cyan whispers. "If the people lose hope, they may tear each other apart to be the last one alive. A not-uninteresting possibility, but also a waste of our effort."

Uncharacteristically, Tali steps forward and places a gentle hand on Cyan's shoulder before moving in front of the crowd. Without a word, she brings forth the staff she usually wields—sometimes even using it to hide her shyness. She taps the ground softly with it, and from its initially thin and harmless shape, branches and leaves begin to emerge. The staff grows in size, slowly at first, then more rapidly, until it reveals an exceptionally big gingko tree. A symbol of hope, this tree species is known to have withstood even the worst cataclysms—or so her mentor, Candamus, told her when he gave her the staff before the journey that brought her here.

Being in front of so many people makes the earth genasi feel nervous, but fortunately,  the summoned tree is shielding most of her from the crowd. She turns to look towards her companions, inviting anyone better with words than she is to deliver a hopeful message to the people...

After this is done, she'll simply touch the tree to return it to the staff form and proceed with the rest towards the Tomb.

(OOC: Used 1 charge of the Staff of the Woodlands to summon its Tree Form).

Loramar simply sighs.  None of this *display* has any bearing on the mission at hand.  He surveys the crowd briefly and turns towards the tomb.  “We should begin now,” he says to the group.  His stride is purposeful and resolute as he moves to the entrance of the tomb.

Silas will nod to Loramar, then turn and join him in approaching the tomb.

Victor is slightly crestfallen to see the opening performance fall flat slightly, but keeps his chin up and head held high, heading to the entrance with his party and waving farewell to the crowds. 

The group watches as Tali steps forward and roots her staff in the ground. Softly chanting words of ancient power, she causes the staff to twist and grow into a massive ginkgo tree that rises high above the people. The crowd gasps, and watches as the trees flowery pedals blow away in the breeze, silence settling over the masses.

Everything is still, until a voice rings out "Well, it seems our heroes have certainly not only their skill, but also their kindness and hope." King Valoorious intones "Now, the time is nearly now. When the sun hits the face of the cliff, the tomb shall open and they" he gestures to the group as they walk forward to stand besides Tali "Shall strive to save us all. Now, may the..."

But the king does not finish his though, as suddenly the first rays of sunlight break over the barrier mountains, and shine upon the plateau. Shafts of light shoot towards the entrance, and strike it. Glowing patterns are revealed in the stone as the door seems to collect the light, forming something similar to lava running through a volcanic region. The crowd gasps, then shrieks as the rumbling begins.

The ground beneath your feet begins to shake, and dust flies off the door as it begins to move. Slowly, ever so slowly, the door seems to rise like a portcullis into the mountain. As the shaking intensifies, a cloud passes overhead. Everyone turns their heads skyward and are shocked as they see a face in the cloud. The visage is ancient and regal, it's features worn and wise, its lighting eyes reflecting a deadly seriousness.

The face opens its mouth, and its deep voice rolls over the assembled as if a peal of thunder "These are the champions you have chosen! You should hope they will do well, for if they don't succeed, then I will destroy each and every one of you! Now, go! And if you exit the tomb before your mission is complete, THE REALM SHALL FALL!" A gust of wind blows forth, sending you stumbling back as the face fades and the cloud moves on.

Then, a lightning bolt crashes down from the sky like a deadly arrow, splitting the gingko tree in two, setting the leaves ablaze as the tree turns to ash. The staff reverts, and clatters to the ground. The crowd simply stares, stunned into silence. After all, a god did just speak to you and threaten to murder you all. 

The door is now open. The threat has been made clear. You must succeed. You must.

Victor makes a clicking noise with his tongue and says 'Well he was not happy!', trying to lighten the mood despite the fact that he's just seen a god for the very first time (Wait, no, he's the seventeenth one, come on remember, you can't slip up on these details! he thinks to himself) He then adopts a rare face of humbleness and seriousness as he addresses the party in a quiet and earnest tone, saying 'I pray upon good luck for us all. I have formed many bonds with you all over our training and I will strive to assist you all in the challenge that faces us ahead. May fortune be on our side, and let the land grant us strength.' His honest expression then shatters as he cracks back into his typical grin, now shouting at the stunned peasants, saying 'Good people! We shall save you all, mark my words!' He tries to think for more, but leaves it at that, turning on his armoured heel, his cloak swooshing round like a cape, before striding towards the dungeon entrance ready to enter, a bead of sweat dripping down his brow.

Cyan studies the face in the sky with their typical stone expression. Although their slightly widening eyes and deep, fearful breath in through nose, which causes their chest to sharply expand, both somewhat betray their strictly composed look. Cyan combs the archives of their mind; books and paintings of historic significance zip through their mental landscape as Cyan attempts to determine if they recognize this particular god by verbal description or visual representation, which has claimed credit for the sickness that has all but drained the life from Cyan's parents. Their head tilts forward as they glower at the face in the sky in its fading moments.

They turn, following the group into the dungeon.

Tali can only stand with her eyes wide as the face appears in the sky, striking down the tree with effortless power. It’s no surprise, coming from a god who has cursed the land, but knowing about his powers and witnessing it firsthand are entirely different things. She’s still frozen in shock as her hand reaches for the staff, and it’s Victor’s voice that finally pulls her from the daze. Normally, she disliked the tone and content of his speeches, but in this moment, his words are grounding. "We won't fail. We will save them all," she says, echoing his words.

As they approach the entrance, she pauses to take in the surroundings before stepping inside. Should they expect traps so soon? Probably not, but in their situation, one could never be too cautious. Touching her forehead, she softly whispers, "Goleuni, arwain ein camau," summoning the light around them to illuminate the path ahead and reveal anything of interest.

(ooc: Perception roll -19- plus Guidance - 4- for a total of 23 )