With the void of Vilus's Vision all around, Ashley, Samir, and Marion try to make sense of the magical tangle ensnaring the light. Samir follows a thread, circling around the beam at times, weaving and knotting at others. Suddenly he finds himself face to face with Marion, the two of them having arrived at the same place on the same thread. Marion looks uncertainly at Samir, and then at the thread. She bites her lip and reaches out tentatively for the thread. "Here goes nothing. Lady watch over me."Then returns her hand to her side, unsheathes her sword, and raises it high. A radiant blue glow shines forth from it as she swings it down, smiting the thread with all of her divine power.
With a snap, a crack, and a flash of light, the two halves of the thread go slack and slowly drift toward the ground. Marion still stands in the final position of her swing, breathing heavily from the tension, sword tip rested against the blackness where the floor should be. Then a crack appears in the sword. And another. More appear and grow and spread, traveling up toward the hilt. Marion drops the weapon before it can reach her hands, and as the blade hits the ground it shatters. The threads still tangling the light pulse and tighten, and Marion cries out in pain, falling to her knees. Only moments later, Samir, Joren, Ashley, and Malachi feel it too. A thick, oily burn in each of their chests, and a weight like a frozen waterfall driving each of them down.
Marion picked wrong.
And now the accursed magic is lashing out, squeezing the life from everyone in the room. Even Vilus, still unmoving in his position at the glass seems to be suffering. His eyes are rolled up into the back of his head, and scarlet tears bleed down his cheeks. Then his arm snaps out, reaching for the light, muscles and tendons straining. Even as his companions are forced to their knees, legs buckling under the magical onslaught, Vilus trembles and grasps at nothing for a few long seconds before he collapses, falling forward across the glass. But his face remains locked on the light, arm still outstretched.
Joren is the last to be brought low, and he looks around at his companions as the edges of his vision begin to blur. Malachi is curled into a ball, clutching the scar on his temple. Samir is on his knees, trying in vain to support the agonized Marion in her heavy armour. Vilus sprawls across the glass looking like a man possessed. And Ashley is lying on the ground, struggling to prop herself up on her elbows. As darkness encroaches, Joren just makes out a flitting motion.
A black butterfly drifts in lazily and perches atop a finger of Vilus's outstretched hand, folding its wings together. A finger that now looks like it is pointing. The butterfly takes off a moment later and flaps toward the beam before perching on another taut thread of yellow. When it's wings are together, it nearly disappears from view. Just a dark slash in the air. Then Vilus closes his hand into a fist and the butterfly is gone.
And the thread falls in two. Starting at the severed ends, the thread begins to dissolve. The undoing travels up both strands, winding around the beam of light and through the knots and tangles, gaining speed as it goes. The web sags as it comes undone and large sections begin to fall. The oppressive weight on everyone's shoulders begins to lift as the curse is unraveled. Finally, the last piece of thread comes free and drifts through the air like a dying ember on the wind before winking out of existence.
Joren starts struggling back up to his feet. Without its power source, the projection of Vilus's vision through the glass begins to fade. The beam pulses once with blinding intensity. Joren makes it to his feet and straightens up, preparing to come to the aid of his friends.
Then comes the explosion.
Ashley
As the curse unravels and Vilus's vision fades, Ashley is able to lift herself to her elbows and look up to see Joren stumbling toward her. Then the beam pulses. An instant later, Ashley feels a shockwave rip through her, and her vision goes to black.
When she opens her eyes again, she does not know where she is. Below her is earth. Far above her is earth. All around her is earth, honeycombed with tunnels leading off to who knows where. And running through all that earth are veins of red hot stone slowly trickling. The air around her wavers with a comforting heat in this molten cavern. And in the center, a few feet before her, there is someone else seated before a beautiful white hot flame emerging from the ground. It is a woman, sitting with her back toward Ashley, obscured by a flowing blue veil. At first Ashley thinks it is just the veil that is semi-transparent, but she soon realizes that she is seeing the flame through the lady as well.
An ethereal feminine voice echoes through the cavern, filling Ashley's ears and setting her hair ablaze. "Your kind were among our first. And though the process used in your creation seems crude and unrefined now, I still take pride in you"
Ashley hears a sound from behind her and turns around to look for its source. She sees the barest flicker of a shadow passing out of sight down one of the many tunnels.
"Worry not about him." Ashley's attention is brought back to the woman in front of her. "We haven't much time here for now, and he is here for me. Razmus, on the other hand, should concern you very much. Among his other goals, he seeks to extinguish this flame before me. And in so doing, will extinguish your kind, the last of the genasi peoples, and bring about Cambria's ruin. I wish I could do more to bolster you for the conflict ahead, but my connection to the world is still weakened. I pray this will suffice for now."
The blue veil flutters and the lady vanishes, leaving just the white flame. It's brightness grows, filling Ashley's vision with light and warmth until everything goes white.
(Ashley is now level 4)
Malachi:
Malachi feels as though the scar on his temple is trying to sear its way through his skull while the tendrils of thought in the back of his mind writhe in panic. It carries on for seconds that feel like hours. Then, as quickly as it had begin, the sensation ends. Malachi rolls over to see the projection of Vilus's vision fading and the threads gone, though the beam of light retains its iridescent appearance rather than reverting back to a sickly yellow. Malachi starts to push himself up off the ground, but the dark thoughts say "It isn't ov-"
A wave a magical force emanates from the beam, and Malachi is only dimly aware of his head striking the floor before his vision goes dark.
He awakes to find himself inside a house. A familiar one. Malachi recognizes the flowers on the mantle. The two beds on opposite ends of the of the room with blankets that always seemed just warm enough to keep the winters at bay. The window looking down the hillside to where ships would pass by on the Venn Canal. He recognizes the rocking chair with its back facing him where his mother would sit in front of the fire after work, reading a book or talking to Mal about his day. He does NOT, however, recognize the hand lying upon the armrest.
The chair rocks back and forth gently, but from where Malachi is situated behind the chair, he can not make out who is sitting in it. All he can see is the hand. Blue-painted fingernails tap lightly and rhythmically on the wooden rest.
A soft, sorrowful voice echoes through Mal's childhood home. "I am sorry about your mother, Malachi. And about how it must have felt, losing her so slowly like that." Malachi notices empty liquor bottles by the door beside him. Their stale reek stings his nose. There is a film of dust on the windowsill, and the flowers on the mantle are withered from neglect now. "And I am sorry about what is in store for you.If I could help you with your-"The tendrils in Malachi's mind wriggle, and for a moment the lady's words do not sound right, "-passengerthen know that I would. Alas I am yet too weak in your world."
A knock at the door interrupts the drumming of the lady's blue-painted fingernails. Malachi turns to face the door behind him and immediately feels dread. The dread of realizing late at night that you forgot to lock your door. The dread of coming around the corner on your way to lock when you hear the hinges creak and see the door slowly crack open.
The door before Malachi remains closed, but he can feel the danger radiating through it.
"Fret not. You are not the target of his animosity. You simply bear the mark. I daresay he is even less fond of Razmus than I. But our time here draws short so I must be concise. Your gift has beentainted,but you have surrounded yourself with very special allies. With their help, you may be able to escape your mother's fate. Go forth with my blessing and live."
Malachi circles around the rocking chair, only to find it now empty. He backs up, tripping over the disheveled rug, and his head crashes into the mantle. His vision goes black.
(Malachi is now level 4)
Samir:
Samir struggles to hold Marion's shoulder up, fighting the same oppressive magical force as her, though she seems to be taking it the worst. Then he sees the butterfly flit past. A few moments later, the burning in his chest stops and the weight eases up. Marion gets a hand under herself for support and Samir is able to breathe easier. He turns, toward the beam, curious to see what has transpired, but even as it comes into view, a wave of force strikes him headfirst. One of his lenses cracks, and his vision goes to black.
Hours, or perhaps seconds later, he opens his eyes to find himself standing in brilliant blue water about an inch deep. It stretches on in every direction as far as the horizon. Waves pass in the distance, though they never seem to reach him, or disturb the calm at his feet. The sky above is a deep crimson red. The sun sits on the horizon, half obscured by haze and cloud.
Samir feels motion at his feet and looks down to see ripples radiating from a point behind him. He turns around, and standing just 20 feet away is a woman in a flowing dress of white lace and blue silk, her face obscured tinkling tassels hanging from the brim of a large azure parasol. A tall wave crashes over her from behind, and as it spills over her shoulders it is momentarily impossible to determine where her dress ends and the sea foam begins.
A somber female voice pierces through the crashing waves and a beam of iridescent light descends upon the lady like a spotlight. "There was a time when all who wished it could receive my gift, in the ages before most of your history books cover. Alas, I have long been held apart from the world." She reaches a hand above her and the light shimmers like gossamer threads between her dancing fingers. "The Hydaelim. The lights of heaven. Our connections to the world, taken and turned against us one by one by the betrayer. Before you freed this one, my gift could only enter the world as a trickle. Only in a select few would enough accumulate for them to manifest the gift, like your comrades Ashley, Malachi, and Marion."
"But for you to accomplish what you have with magic, despite lacking my touch... It's little wonder 'he' shows such interest in you." Behind the tassels, Samir can just make out the movement of the lady's head turning to look over her shoulder. Far beyond her, never visible for more than a second amidst the distant waves, is another figure. Little more than a dark smudge against the red sky, Samir can nevertheless feel his gaze. Peering closer, Samir can just make out a crimson travelling cloak with the hood drawn. Then the figure turns and begins to walk away, quickly disappearing amongst the waves.
The lady speaks again."He will be watching your progress, as will I. Our time here grows short, but before you go I would offer you a parting gift." A particularly large wave looms on the horizon behind her. "Your theoretical grasp of my magic is considerable already, but with this Hydaelim restored, I've presence enough to awaken a more personal understanding within you."The wave now towers over the lady. She repositions her umbrella as if to ward of a light rain, and then is swallowed. Seconds later, the wave overtakes Samir and any thoughts he has are cut short as the wall of water knocks his senses from him and fills his lungs.
(Samir is now level 4)
Joren:
The shockwave of force explodes out from the beam of light, and Joren watches as if time has slowed down as each of his comrades are thrown back and go limp.
Joren braces himself for the impact as well, and reflexively starts to summon his echo. The echo reaches out to link arms with Joren for support. But then Joren feels a hand gripping his opposite shoulder. Another echo. Then there is a third, in front of him. Joren reaches out without thinking and clasps his hand on the shoulder of this alternate version of himself. In that single instant, more and more echoes appear, all huddling and collectively bracing one another to weather the blast together, each with different scars, armour, dents, and notches in their greatswords.
Joren had never known anyone amongst even the strongest echo knights who had resonated with echoes from more than two timelines at once. It wasn't even a matter of ability. It was simply statistically next to impossible. For this many different timelines to bring the different versions of Joren to this very spot at this very moment confounds him. Is this providence?
All this transpires in but an instant. Then the shockwave hits. Joren blacks out for the briefest moment, but the press of bodies keeps him on his feet. He feels the arm in his hand go slack, but Joren's grip tightens and he helps keep the other echo up. Then it is past, and as quickly as the echoes manifested, they begin to disappear and Joren knows he is vanishing from their worlds as well.
For a fleeting second though, he thinks he catches something strange amongst the throng of rapidly dispersing echoes. One figure is taller than the others, his face obscured by a hood. Then he is gone, and the echoes all around are naught more than mist, save for the one echo he'd originally summoned.
(Joren is now level 4)
Marion:
So affected as she is by the curse, Marion scarcely feels the impact of the shockwave when the curse is undone. She simply feels release. When she opens her eyes, she is still on her hands and knees which feels somehow appropriate, but the floor under her is not the same is was. Patterned stone set with slabs of polished marble. As she shifts, she hears the clank of her armour echo out around her with the acoustics of a cathedral or great hall. She slowly raises her head to see the base of a throne, and the armoured feet of whoever sits upon it. She quickly lowers her head once more in deference, knowing whom she kneels before.
But a strong warm female voice says, "Rise, Marion of the Order of the Azure Rose." Marion complies, standing up slowly before hesitantly lifting her head to take in the occupier of the throne before her.
Clad from head to toe in plate mail resembling that of knights of Marion's Order, the lady's face is obscured by a pointed visor with no openings. Ribbons of blue silk trail from the joints in her armour, and a greatsword with a thorny hilt rests across her lap.
"You have done well, my child." The voice echoes against ornate columns and stained glass windows. A blurry silhouette of someone outside passes by one of the windows. "Hold your head high, and believe in the path you are walking. I know you feel the sickness in the world. But today you have taken a step toward healing."
The lady rises up from the throne and descends several small steps, walking straight toward Marion. The tip of her greatsword kicks up sparks as it drags on the stone behind her. "Know that in my eyes, you are journeyman no longer."She effortlessly raises the greatsword in one hand and places the flat of the blade heavily upon Marion's right shoulder before raising and bringing down upon the left. "The world is about to undergo a great change. Go forth into it as one of my champions."
The stone under Marion's feet abruptly turns to water, and Marion plunges through into darkness
(Marion is now level 4)
Vilus:
Whatever Vilus is right now sees all, watching coldly and distantly as from above.
(Power grows. Vilus is now level 4)
Joren, the only one of the group still standing and conscious, looks around with worry at his friends. The room is a mess. The glass platform is cracked, as are the stone walls and a wooden support beam on the ceiling. Joren hears angry voices from below, and several sets of heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.
(Though Joren is the only one conscious, everybody please roll initiative.)
Samir's eyes snap open, and he quickly surveys the scene through his freshly broken glasses. Marion stirs beside him, and the two help each other up as the footsteps reach the top of the stairs and the locked door to Andra's office rattles.
Marion picks up the hilt of her longsword, but finds the blade completely shattered. She drops it to the ground, pulls a hand axe from her waist and moves to stand beside the entrance to the secret chamber. She looks to Joren, bewildered. "I blacked out. What happened? No, tell me later. Enemies?"
(Samir has half of his movement and a bonus action available before the people on the stairs go)
Samir stirs, blinking owlishly, the newfound lines crossing his vision confusing for a brief moment before the memory of the shockwave comes back to him. Shaking off the vision for later contemplation, he helps Marion to her feet, with the warrior helping him just as much. As she moves over to Joren, Samir's eyes flicker around the room for a second before focusing towards the door, pulled by the seemingly imminent intrusion of potential enemies. Samir moves further towards the back of the room, putting room between himself and whoever might come storming into the room. His eyes dip down to look at the medallion still clasped at his wrist, lifting it to point towards the entrance...
Vilus remains unmoving, unconscious, sprawled across the screen where he fell, nevertheless he watches as party members begin to rise, his sight coming not from his eyes but beyond his body somewhere above them.
As Joren tries to help Ashley wake up, she is completely unresponsive to his actions. Letting out a loud snore with his last attempt to roll her awake.
Joren's mind plummets through the space between worlds, a three-dimensional creature suddenly exposed to more than three dimensions. A fall that lasts forever and no time at all. Some vast force, filling the gaps, seems to steady him - all possible timelines of him, coalescing in one quantum instant. Provenance? Joren does not know. The explosion seems almost natural... time rushing backwards to bite its own tail. Back to the birth of the universe.
Much worse is after. Whatever 'after' means any more. The feeling of being stretched membrane-thin as he loses infinite versions of himself, one by one. Ones that had lived and loved and died differently than he has or will. Ones that tried and struggled and failed and once in a great while, succeeded. Joren's teeth rattle at the jarring loss as he returns to himself with dizzying emptiness. Just himself and his echo.
And my friends! What... what is happening to them? To Ashley?
Instinctively, he sends his echo to stand to the blind side of the door, next to the wall. Ready to non-lethally attack and try to stop any that enter.
With relief, he sees most of his companions struggling up. The outer door of Andra's office being smashed. Must be getting out of here. Now!
He rushes to the fallen fire genasi's side, attempting to revive her. "Come back, Ashley! Come back to us," he whispers urgently, grinding his teeth in frustration as she and the strange goliath continue to lie insensate, yet relieved that all seem alive. If Ashley does not rouse, he will bear her in a fireman's carry, knowing he cannot do the same for the larger goliath. He turns to face the blue honor-bound warrior. Marion. He gives her a grimace of a smile.
"What happened? Something much bigger than all of us. You and I and my echo, perhaps holding the door while the others are leaving? Have to rouse these last two. Help me, Samir. Malachi. I can be carrying Ashley if need be, but much more difficult to carry Vilus out the window and down."
A bolt of worry runs through Samir's mind as the medallion shows him... nothing. Brought back to their current situation by the distant pounding on the door, he flashes his gaze between each of his companions before hurrying to Vilus side. Samir takes hold of the other man's shoulder and begins shaking him gently, then a bit more vigorously.
"Vilus, come on. We need to be moving. Damn it all..."
Malachi’s eyes pop open as his consciousness rushes back, the memory of home fresh in his mind. Mother! The thought springs to his mind. But no, that was not his mother. She was gone. He raises himself to his elbows and looks around the room as his companions all struggle to their feet. The banging on the stairs takes him back to his dream and the threat menacing outside his door. He remembers the palpable fear. Was it a dream? Was it a vision?
He pushes himself off of the floor and moves away from the door and toward the window. He reaches inside his jacket, grabbing his necklace, and with a whispered word, wraps himself in protective magic. “Is everyone okay?”he croaks in a raspy voice. “What happened?”
Marion looks back at Joren, axe gripped tight in hand. "I'm not sure exactly what happened, but... I know this be hard for everyone else to believe... I think I met my God." She hefts the axe in her hand, but then looks from the door to the desk, and then to her comrades moving toward the window. She rushes over to the desk, tossing her hand axe on top, and begins pushing it toward the door. "This should buy us time."
Her legs shake as she pushes, and it's clear she is still a little weakened following recent events. The desk scrapes over a couple of inches of hardwood before she needs to stop and take a breath.
As Malachi rouses and brushes part of his jacket aside, he sees a soft white glow rising up from the satchel where he had collected seemingly mundane items from Andra's desk.
Another thud at the door (Attack 19, Damage 6). This time there is the distinct sound of splintering wood as the door rattles on its hinges. Then a softer sound, and a different kind of crack (Attack Nat 1, Damage 7). "AAAARRGGHHGH," one voice screams out in pain.
Another voice shouts out, "Watch where yer swingin' that thing, ya bloody turnpick."
"Ya gone blunt or what? Hand tha' over"
"Should we be waitin' fer the yellowcoats ta check it out?"
"Nah, s'probably themselves who're breakin' in ta begin with. The Marshall was snooping around earlier without a warrant. You know how she's got it out for Andra." That last voice, which sounds like it belongs to the halfling who'd been behind the desk downstairs shouts through the door, "Oi! Whoever's in there, open this door and come out peaceful-like, and we'll hand you over nicely to the city's justice. Keep cowerin' behind this door and we'll have no choice but to bust it down and dispense a little justice of our own!"
Joren continues in his attempt to revive Ashley. "Come back to us. We need you." he calls to her quietly.
If she doesn't come to, he uses his free action to hoist her up in a fireman's carry and moves back out towards the window. (If she does come to, he helps her up and suggests that they head the same way.)
In an only slightly louder tone, Joren growls to the others: "Get Vilus roused, and someone please be helping Marion block the door with the desk. As for meeting your blue lady, Marion, I am having no trouble believing you."
His echo makes way for the desk but still stands ready in the blind corner of the door for an opportunity attack if someone enters and leaves his space.
At Joren's last attempt, he finally raises Ashley. She awakes with a start, looking around almost blindly. "The fire, the beautiful white fire... where did it go? It's not out, is it??"she asks in a panic before it finally dawns on her where she is. She flings her arms around Joren, holding him tightly for reassurance that he, as well as the others, are really there and not a figment of her imagination. As she lets go, she looks at him, with sorrow in her eyes. "Razmus. He is coming and he is going to eliminate my kind... no more of the genasi." Turning to the others she adds, "And bring ruin to Cambria."
That's when she sees Vilus still on the ground. She starts to go to him, but Joren continues ushering her to the window, "Someone please help him!" as she falters to even walk a bit, the memory of her vision still overpowering her.
Malachi is distracted by the soft glow from his satchel and takes the briefest moment to peer inside “What could that be?” Perception to determine the source of the light: 18.
Malachi jumps slightly at the continued pounding at the door, still thinking about the threat lurking outside the door in his vision. “Vilus”he hisses “Wake up! Let’s go”He motions back toward himself with his hand and feels another sliding sensation in the back of his mind. His eyes go wide as the big Goliath slides 5 feet toward him.
Looking in the satchel, Malachi sees the items he had pilfered before, now each with glowing runic script seemingly inscribed upon them. These runes, however, appear entirely unlike the runes used by the followers of Razmus. What's more, Malachi can tell by the faint energy radiating off of the items that they are undeniably magic, where before he had been certain they were not.
He looks up and notes that the box of discards he had left on the workspace likewise has a glow rising from within.
Frustrated by Vilus still not waking, Samir slaps a hand across the man's cheek, perhaps a bit harder than was warranted. Gritting his teeth he takes a hold of the man's clothing and begins trying to drag him towards the window.
The assault on the door continues, though it continues to hold firm for the time being. One voice shouts, "Hey, someone should circle around and make sure they don't try to escape out the window."
"Oh yeah, on it!" Several sets of footsteps start thudding down the stairs.
As he hears the voices on the other side of the door, Malachi looks up from the glow in his satchel. There would be time to further investigate those items later. “We are running out of time, they are moving to block the window. Go, now!” He calls in a low voice. However, as he notices the same magical glow coming from the box of discarded items on the workbench, he cannot resist the opportunity. He moves toward the desk, grabs the box, and dashes back toward the window and outside if he can.
With the help of Malachi and Samir, Vilus'eyes snap open, he takes a sharp inhale of breath and quickly sits bolt upright at a 90 degree angle, surveying the room. He glances up to the ceiling, to something beyond "it was real" he mutters joyfully, scrambling to his feet "It Was Real! Haha" he says louder, more triumphant now, a smile growing across his face as he moves south groggily and prepares himself, it looks like he's getting ready to jump through (and out of) the window.
Pushing together, Marion and Joren slide the desk the rest of the way across the floor in one short burst, blocking off the shuddering door. (The door's starting HP has been doubled)
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With the void of Vilus's Vision all around, Ashley, Samir, and Marion try to make sense of the magical tangle ensnaring the light. Samir follows a thread, circling around the beam at times, weaving and knotting at others. Suddenly he finds himself face to face with Marion, the two of them having arrived at the same place on the same thread. Marion looks uncertainly at Samir, and then at the thread. She bites her lip and reaches out tentatively for the thread. "Here goes nothing. Lady watch over me." Then returns her hand to her side, unsheathes her sword, and raises it high. A radiant blue glow shines forth from it as she swings it down, smiting the thread with all of her divine power.
With a snap, a crack, and a flash of light, the two halves of the thread go slack and slowly drift toward the ground. Marion still stands in the final position of her swing, breathing heavily from the tension, sword tip rested against the blackness where the floor should be. Then a crack appears in the sword. And another. More appear and grow and spread, traveling up toward the hilt. Marion drops the weapon before it can reach her hands, and as the blade hits the ground it shatters. The threads still tangling the light pulse and tighten, and Marion cries out in pain, falling to her knees. Only moments later, Samir, Joren, Ashley, and Malachi feel it too. A thick, oily burn in each of their chests, and a weight like a frozen waterfall driving each of them down.
Marion picked wrong.
And now the accursed magic is lashing out, squeezing the life from everyone in the room. Even Vilus, still unmoving in his position at the glass seems to be suffering. His eyes are rolled up into the back of his head, and scarlet tears bleed down his cheeks. Then his arm snaps out, reaching for the light, muscles and tendons straining. Even as his companions are forced to their knees, legs buckling under the magical onslaught, Vilus trembles and grasps at nothing for a few long seconds before he collapses, falling forward across the glass. But his face remains locked on the light, arm still outstretched.
Joren is the last to be brought low, and he looks around at his companions as the edges of his vision begin to blur. Malachi is curled into a ball, clutching the scar on his temple. Samir is on his knees, trying in vain to support the agonized Marion in her heavy armour. Vilus sprawls across the glass looking like a man possessed. And Ashley is lying on the ground, struggling to prop herself up on her elbows. As darkness encroaches, Joren just makes out a flitting motion.
A black butterfly drifts in lazily and perches atop a finger of Vilus's outstretched hand, folding its wings together. A finger that now looks like it is pointing. The butterfly takes off a moment later and flaps toward the beam before perching on another taut thread of yellow. When it's wings are together, it nearly disappears from view. Just a dark slash in the air. Then Vilus closes his hand into a fist and the butterfly is gone.
And the thread falls in two. Starting at the severed ends, the thread begins to dissolve. The undoing travels up both strands, winding around the beam of light and through the knots and tangles, gaining speed as it goes. The web sags as it comes undone and large sections begin to fall. The oppressive weight on everyone's shoulders begins to lift as the curse is unraveled. Finally, the last piece of thread comes free and drifts through the air like a dying ember on the wind before winking out of existence.
Joren starts struggling back up to his feet. Without its power source, the projection of Vilus's vision through the glass begins to fade. The beam pulses once with blinding intensity. Joren makes it to his feet and straightens up, preparing to come to the aid of his friends.
Then comes the explosion.
Ashley
As the curse unravels and Vilus's vision fades, Ashley is able to lift herself to her elbows and look up to see Joren stumbling toward her. Then the beam pulses. An instant later, Ashley feels a shockwave rip through her, and her vision goes to black.
When she opens her eyes again, she does not know where she is. Below her is earth. Far above her is earth. All around her is earth, honeycombed with tunnels leading off to who knows where. And running through all that earth are veins of red hot stone slowly trickling. The air around her wavers with a comforting heat in this molten cavern. And in the center, a few feet before her, there is someone else seated before a beautiful white hot flame emerging from the ground. It is a woman, sitting with her back toward Ashley, obscured by a flowing blue veil. At first Ashley thinks it is just the veil that is semi-transparent, but she soon realizes that she is seeing the flame through the lady as well.
An ethereal feminine voice echoes through the cavern, filling Ashley's ears and setting her hair ablaze. "Your kind were among our first. And though the process used in your creation seems crude and unrefined now, I still take pride in you"
Ashley hears a sound from behind her and turns around to look for its source. She sees the barest flicker of a shadow passing out of sight down one of the many tunnels.
"Worry not about him." Ashley's attention is brought back to the woman in front of her. "We haven't much time here for now, and he is here for me. Razmus, on the other hand, should concern you very much. Among his other goals, he seeks to extinguish this flame before me. And in so doing, will extinguish your kind, the last of the genasi peoples, and bring about Cambria's ruin. I wish I could do more to bolster you for the conflict ahead, but my connection to the world is still weakened. I pray this will suffice for now."
The blue veil flutters and the lady vanishes, leaving just the white flame. It's brightness grows, filling Ashley's vision with light and warmth until everything goes white.
(Ashley is now level 4)
Malachi:
Malachi feels as though the scar on his temple is trying to sear its way through his skull while the tendrils of thought in the back of his mind writhe in panic. It carries on for seconds that feel like hours. Then, as quickly as it had begin, the sensation ends. Malachi rolls over to see the projection of Vilus's vision fading and the threads gone, though the beam of light retains its iridescent appearance rather than reverting back to a sickly yellow. Malachi starts to push himself up off the ground, but the dark thoughts say "It isn't ov-"
A wave a magical force emanates from the beam, and Malachi is only dimly aware of his head striking the floor before his vision goes dark.
He awakes to find himself inside a house. A familiar one. Malachi recognizes the flowers on the mantle. The two beds on opposite ends of the of the room with blankets that always seemed just warm enough to keep the winters at bay. The window looking down the hillside to where ships would pass by on the Venn Canal. He recognizes the rocking chair with its back facing him where his mother would sit in front of the fire after work, reading a book or talking to Mal about his day. He does NOT, however, recognize the hand lying upon the armrest.
The chair rocks back and forth gently, but from where Malachi is situated behind the chair, he can not make out who is sitting in it. All he can see is the hand. Blue-painted fingernails tap lightly and rhythmically on the wooden rest.
A soft, sorrowful voice echoes through Mal's childhood home. "I am sorry about your mother, Malachi. And about how it must have felt, losing her so slowly like that." Malachi notices empty liquor bottles by the door beside him. Their stale reek stings his nose. There is a film of dust on the windowsill, and the flowers on the mantle are withered from neglect now. "And I am sorry about what is in store for you. If I could help you with your-" The tendrils in Malachi's mind wriggle, and for a moment the lady's words do not sound right, "-passenger then know that I would. Alas I am yet too weak in your world."
A knock at the door interrupts the drumming of the lady's blue-painted fingernails. Malachi turns to face the door behind him and immediately feels dread. The dread of realizing late at night that you forgot to lock your door. The dread of coming around the corner on your way to lock when you hear the hinges creak and see the door slowly crack open.
The door before Malachi remains closed, but he can feel the danger radiating through it.
"Fret not. You are not the target of his animosity. You simply bear the mark. I daresay he is even less fond of Razmus than I. But our time here draws short so I must be concise. Your gift has been tainted, but you have surrounded yourself with very special allies. With their help, you may be able to escape your mother's fate. Go forth with my blessing and live."
Malachi circles around the rocking chair, only to find it now empty. He backs up, tripping over the disheveled rug, and his head crashes into the mantle. His vision goes black.
(Malachi is now level 4)
Samir:
Samir struggles to hold Marion's shoulder up, fighting the same oppressive magical force as her, though she seems to be taking it the worst. Then he sees the butterfly flit past. A few moments later, the burning in his chest stops and the weight eases up. Marion gets a hand under herself for support and Samir is able to breathe easier. He turns, toward the beam, curious to see what has transpired, but even as it comes into view, a wave of force strikes him headfirst. One of his lenses cracks, and his vision goes to black.
Hours, or perhaps seconds later, he opens his eyes to find himself standing in brilliant blue water about an inch deep. It stretches on in every direction as far as the horizon. Waves pass in the distance, though they never seem to reach him, or disturb the calm at his feet. The sky above is a deep crimson red. The sun sits on the horizon, half obscured by haze and cloud.
Samir feels motion at his feet and looks down to see ripples radiating from a point behind him. He turns around, and standing just 20 feet away is a woman in a flowing dress of white lace and blue silk, her face obscured tinkling tassels hanging from the brim of a large azure parasol. A tall wave crashes over her from behind, and as it spills over her shoulders it is momentarily impossible to determine where her dress ends and the sea foam begins.
A somber female voice pierces through the crashing waves and a beam of iridescent light descends upon the lady like a spotlight. "There was a time when all who wished it could receive my gift, in the ages before most of your history books cover. Alas, I have long been held apart from the world." She reaches a hand above her and the light shimmers like gossamer threads between her dancing fingers. "The Hydaelim. The lights of heaven. Our connections to the world, taken and turned against us one by one by the betrayer. Before you freed this one, my gift could only enter the world as a trickle. Only in a select few would enough accumulate for them to manifest the gift, like your comrades Ashley, Malachi, and Marion."
"But for you to accomplish what you have with magic, despite lacking my touch... It's little wonder 'he' shows such interest in you." Behind the tassels, Samir can just make out the movement of the lady's head turning to look over her shoulder. Far beyond her, never visible for more than a second amidst the distant waves, is another figure. Little more than a dark smudge against the red sky, Samir can nevertheless feel his gaze. Peering closer, Samir can just make out a crimson travelling cloak with the hood drawn. Then the figure turns and begins to walk away, quickly disappearing amongst the waves.
The lady speaks again. "He will be watching your progress, as will I. Our time here grows short, but before you go I would offer you a parting gift." A particularly large wave looms on the horizon behind her. "Your theoretical grasp of my magic is considerable already, but with this Hydaelim restored, I've presence enough to awaken a more personal understanding within you." The wave now towers over the lady. She repositions her umbrella as if to ward of a light rain, and then is swallowed. Seconds later, the wave overtakes Samir and any thoughts he has are cut short as the wall of water knocks his senses from him and fills his lungs.
(Samir is now level 4)
Joren:
The shockwave of force explodes out from the beam of light, and Joren watches as if time has slowed down as each of his comrades are thrown back and go limp.
Joren braces himself for the impact as well, and reflexively starts to summon his echo. The echo reaches out to link arms with Joren for support. But then Joren feels a hand gripping his opposite shoulder. Another echo. Then there is a third, in front of him. Joren reaches out without thinking and clasps his hand on the shoulder of this alternate version of himself. In that single instant, more and more echoes appear, all huddling and collectively bracing one another to weather the blast together, each with different scars, armour, dents, and notches in their greatswords.
Joren had never known anyone amongst even the strongest echo knights who had resonated with echoes from more than two timelines at once. It wasn't even a matter of ability. It was simply statistically next to impossible. For this many different timelines to bring the different versions of Joren to this very spot at this very moment confounds him. Is this providence?
All this transpires in but an instant. Then the shockwave hits. Joren blacks out for the briefest moment, but the press of bodies keeps him on his feet. He feels the arm in his hand go slack, but Joren's grip tightens and he helps keep the other echo up. Then it is past, and as quickly as the echoes manifested, they begin to disappear and Joren knows he is vanishing from their worlds as well.
For a fleeting second though, he thinks he catches something strange amongst the throng of rapidly dispersing echoes. One figure is taller than the others, his face obscured by a hood. Then he is gone, and the echoes all around are naught more than mist, save for the one echo he'd originally summoned.
(Joren is now level 4)
Marion:
So affected as she is by the curse, Marion scarcely feels the impact of the shockwave when the curse is undone. She simply feels release. When she opens her eyes, she is still on her hands and knees which feels somehow appropriate, but the floor under her is not the same is was. Patterned stone set with slabs of polished marble. As she shifts, she hears the clank of her armour echo out around her with the acoustics of a cathedral or great hall. She slowly raises her head to see the base of a throne, and the armoured feet of whoever sits upon it. She quickly lowers her head once more in deference, knowing whom she kneels before.
But a strong warm female voice says, "Rise, Marion of the Order of the Azure Rose." Marion complies, standing up slowly before hesitantly lifting her head to take in the occupier of the throne before her.
Clad from head to toe in plate mail resembling that of knights of Marion's Order, the lady's face is obscured by a pointed visor with no openings. Ribbons of blue silk trail from the joints in her armour, and a greatsword with a thorny hilt rests across her lap.
"You have done well, my child." The voice echoes against ornate columns and stained glass windows. A blurry silhouette of someone outside passes by one of the windows. "Hold your head high, and believe in the path you are walking. I know you feel the sickness in the world. But today you have taken a step toward healing."
The lady rises up from the throne and descends several small steps, walking straight toward Marion. The tip of her greatsword kicks up sparks as it drags on the stone behind her. "Know that in my eyes, you are journeyman no longer." She effortlessly raises the greatsword in one hand and places the flat of the blade heavily upon Marion's right shoulder before raising and bringing down upon the left. "The world is about to undergo a great change. Go forth into it as one of my champions."
The stone under Marion's feet abruptly turns to water, and Marion plunges through into darkness
(Marion is now level 4)
Vilus:
Whatever Vilus is right now sees all, watching coldly and distantly as from above.
(Power grows. Vilus is now level 4)
Joren, the only one of the group still standing and conscious, looks around with worry at his friends. The room is a mess. The glass platform is cracked, as are the stone walls and a wooden support beam on the ceiling. Joren hears angry voices from below, and several sets of heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.
(Though Joren is the only one conscious, everybody please roll initiative.)
Samir's eyes snap open, and he quickly surveys the scene through his freshly broken glasses. Marion stirs beside him, and the two help each other up as the footsteps reach the top of the stairs and the locked door to Andra's office rattles.
Marion picks up the hilt of her longsword, but finds the blade completely shattered. She drops it to the ground, pulls a hand axe from her waist and moves to stand beside the entrance to the secret chamber. She looks to Joren, bewildered. "I blacked out. What happened? No, tell me later. Enemies?"
(Samir has half of his movement and a bonus action available before the people on the stairs go)
Samir stirs, blinking owlishly, the newfound lines crossing his vision confusing for a brief moment before the memory of the shockwave comes back to him. Shaking off the vision for later contemplation, he helps Marion to her feet, with the warrior helping him just as much. As she moves over to Joren, Samir's eyes flicker around the room for a second before focusing towards the door, pulled by the seemingly imminent intrusion of potential enemies. Samir moves further towards the back of the room, putting room between himself and whoever might come storming into the room. His eyes dip down to look at the medallion still clasped at his wrist, lifting it to point towards the entrance...
The stone inside, normally glowing with reds and blues to indicate his comrades, now lies dull and lightless.
The rattling at the door stops. Then a second later there is a loud thud, and then another, as the people on the stairs start trying to break it down.
Vilus remains unmoving, unconscious, sprawled across the screen where he fell, nevertheless he watches as party members begin to rise, his sight coming not from his eyes but beyond his body somewhere above them.
As Joren tries to help Ashley wake up, she is completely unresponsive to his actions. Letting out a loud snore with his last attempt to roll her awake.
Joren's mind plummets through the space between worlds, a three-dimensional creature suddenly exposed to more than three dimensions. A fall that lasts forever and no time at all. Some vast force, filling the gaps, seems to steady him - all possible timelines of him, coalescing in one quantum instant. Provenance? Joren does not know. The explosion seems almost natural... time rushing backwards to bite its own tail. Back to the birth of the universe.
Much worse is after. Whatever 'after' means any more. The feeling of being stretched membrane-thin as he loses infinite versions of himself, one by one. Ones that had lived and loved and died differently than he has or will. Ones that tried and struggled and failed and once in a great while, succeeded. Joren's teeth rattle at the jarring loss as he returns to himself with dizzying emptiness. Just himself and his echo.
And my friends! What... what is happening to them? To Ashley?
Instinctively, he sends his echo to stand to the blind side of the door, next to the wall. Ready to non-lethally attack and try to stop any that enter.
With relief, he sees most of his companions struggling up. The outer door of Andra's office being smashed. Must be getting out of here. Now!
He rushes to the fallen fire genasi's side, attempting to revive her. "Come back, Ashley! Come back to us," he whispers urgently, grinding his teeth in frustration as she and the strange goliath continue to lie insensate, yet relieved that all seem alive. If Ashley does not rouse, he will bear her in a fireman's carry, knowing he cannot do the same for the larger goliath. He turns to face the blue honor-bound warrior. Marion. He gives her a grimace of a smile.
"What happened? Something much bigger than all of us. You and I and my echo, perhaps holding the door while the others are leaving? Have to rouse these last two. Help me, Samir. Malachi. I can be carrying Ashley if need be, but much more difficult to carry Vilus out the window and down."
Barn(Paladin1): Damian_May's Ereworn Under the Shadow | Lyra(Warlock2/Bard4): VitusW's Silverwood Forest | Nivi(Rogue5): Erik_Soong's Netherdeep
Joren(Fighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Quyen(Adept1, ba5ic): ConstancePhokas' Nentir Vale (Discord) | Seri(Druid1): Hunter_Orien's Saltmarsh
Xarian(Fighter3): Luna_Dust's Marks on the Map | Ophelia(Sorcerer2): BillM's Icewind Dale | Shin(Wizard1): Culuril's Strixhaven
A bolt of worry runs through Samir's mind as the medallion shows him... nothing. Brought back to their current situation by the distant pounding on the door, he flashes his gaze between each of his companions before hurrying to Vilus side. Samir takes hold of the other man's shoulder and begins shaking him gently, then a bit more vigorously.
"Vilus, come on. We need to be moving. Damn it all..."
Malachi’s eyes pop open as his consciousness rushes back, the memory of home fresh in his mind. Mother! The thought springs to his mind. But no, that was not his mother. She was gone. He raises himself to his elbows and looks around the room as his companions all struggle to their feet. The banging on the stairs takes him back to his dream and the threat menacing outside his door. He remembers the palpable fear. Was it a dream? Was it a vision?
He pushes himself off of the floor and moves away from the door and toward the window. He reaches inside his jacket, grabbing his necklace, and with a whispered word, wraps himself in protective magic. “Is everyone okay?” he croaks in a raspy voice. “What happened?”
Marion looks back at Joren, axe gripped tight in hand. "I'm not sure exactly what happened, but... I know this be hard for everyone else to believe... I think I met my God." She hefts the axe in her hand, but then looks from the door to the desk, and then to her comrades moving toward the window. She rushes over to the desk, tossing her hand axe on top, and begins pushing it toward the door. "This should buy us time."
Her legs shake as she pushes, and it's clear she is still a little weakened following recent events. The desk scrapes over a couple of inches of hardwood before she needs to stop and take a breath.
As Malachi rouses and brushes part of his jacket aside, he sees a soft white glow rising up from the satchel where he had collected seemingly mundane items from Andra's desk.
Another thud at the door (Attack 19, Damage 6). This time there is the distinct sound of splintering wood as the door rattles on its hinges. Then a softer sound, and a different kind of crack (Attack Nat 1, Damage 7). "AAAARRGGHHGH," one voice screams out in pain.
Another voice shouts out, "Watch where yer swingin' that thing, ya bloody turnpick."
"Ya gone blunt or what? Hand tha' over"
"Should we be waitin' fer the yellowcoats ta check it out?"
"Nah, s'probably themselves who're breakin' in ta begin with. The Marshall was snooping around earlier without a warrant. You know how she's got it out for Andra." That last voice, which sounds like it belongs to the halfling who'd been behind the desk downstairs shouts through the door, "Oi! Whoever's in there, open this door and come out peaceful-like, and we'll hand you over nicely to the city's justice. Keep cowerin' behind this door and we'll have no choice but to bust it down and dispense a little justice of our own!"
Joren continues in his attempt to revive Ashley. "Come back to us. We need you." he calls to her quietly.
If she doesn't come to, he uses his free action to hoist her up in a fireman's carry and moves back out towards the window. (If she does come to, he helps her up and suggests that they head the same way.)
In an only slightly louder tone, Joren growls to the others: "Get Vilus roused, and someone please be helping Marion block the door with the desk. As for meeting your blue lady, Marion, I am having no trouble believing you."
His echo makes way for the desk but still stands ready in the blind corner of the door for an opportunity attack if someone enters and leaves his space.
Barn(Paladin1): Damian_May's Ereworn Under the Shadow | Lyra(Warlock2/Bard4): VitusW's Silverwood Forest | Nivi(Rogue5): Erik_Soong's Netherdeep
Joren(Fighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Quyen(Adept1, ba5ic): ConstancePhokas' Nentir Vale (Discord) | Seri(Druid1): Hunter_Orien's Saltmarsh
Xarian(Fighter3): Luna_Dust's Marks on the Map | Ophelia(Sorcerer2): BillM's Icewind Dale | Shin(Wizard1): Culuril's Strixhaven
At Joren's last attempt, he finally raises Ashley. She awakes with a start, looking around almost blindly. "The fire, the beautiful white fire... where did it go? It's not out, is it??" she asks in a panic before it finally dawns on her where she is. She flings her arms around Joren, holding him tightly for reassurance that he, as well as the others, are really there and not a figment of her imagination. As she lets go, she looks at him, with sorrow in her eyes. "Razmus. He is coming and he is going to eliminate my kind... no more of the genasi." Turning to the others she adds, "And bring ruin to Cambria."
That's when she sees Vilus still on the ground. She starts to go to him, but Joren continues ushering her to the window, "Someone please help him!" as she falters to even walk a bit, the memory of her vision still overpowering her.
Malachi is distracted by the soft glow from his satchel and takes the briefest moment to peer inside “What could that be?” Perception to determine the source of the light: 18.
Malachi jumps slightly at the continued pounding at the door, still thinking about the threat lurking outside the door in his vision. “Vilus” he hisses “Wake up! Let’s go” He motions back toward himself with his hand and feels another sliding sensation in the back of his mind. His eyes go wide as the big Goliath slides 5 feet toward him.
Looking in the satchel, Malachi sees the items he had pilfered before, now each with glowing runic script seemingly inscribed upon them. These runes, however, appear entirely unlike the runes used by the followers of Razmus. What's more, Malachi can tell by the faint energy radiating off of the items that they are undeniably magic, where before he had been certain they were not.
He looks up and notes that the box of discards he had left on the workspace likewise has a glow rising from within.
Frustrated by Vilus still not waking, Samir slaps a hand across the man's cheek, perhaps a bit harder than was warranted. Gritting his teeth he takes a hold of the man's clothing and begins trying to drag him towards the window.
The assault on the door continues, though it continues to hold firm for the time being. One voice shouts, "Hey, someone should circle around and make sure they don't try to escape out the window."
"Oh yeah, on it!" Several sets of footsteps start thudding down the stairs.
As he hears the voices on the other side of the door, Malachi looks up from the glow in his satchel. There would be time to further investigate those items later. “We are running out of time, they are moving to block the window. Go, now!” He calls in a low voice. However, as he notices the same magical glow coming from the box of discarded items on the workbench, he cannot resist the opportunity. He moves toward the desk, grabs the box, and dashes back toward the window and outside if he can.
With the help of Malachi and Samir, Vilus'eyes snap open, he takes a sharp inhale of breath and quickly sits bolt upright at a 90 degree angle, surveying the room. He glances up to the ceiling, to something beyond "it was real" he mutters joyfully, scrambling to his feet "It Was Real! Haha" he says louder, more triumphant now, a smile growing across his face as he moves south groggily and prepares himself, it looks like he's getting ready to jump through (and out of) the window.
Seeing Vilus up, Joren urges in a low voice: "Out the window, the rest of you. Tying off a rope if you need. I can untie and echo swap down last."
With his echo guarding the still-closed door to the stairway, Joren attempts to move Andra's desk to block the door. "Marion, help me!"
Athletics: 17 if with advantage provided by help from Marion, 14 if without.
Barn(Paladin1): Damian_May's Ereworn Under the Shadow | Lyra(Warlock2/Bard4): VitusW's Silverwood Forest | Nivi(Rogue5): Erik_Soong's Netherdeep
Joren(Fighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Quyen(Adept1, ba5ic): ConstancePhokas' Nentir Vale (Discord) | Seri(Druid1): Hunter_Orien's Saltmarsh
Xarian(Fighter3): Luna_Dust's Marks on the Map | Ophelia(Sorcerer2): BillM's Icewind Dale | Shin(Wizard1): Culuril's Strixhaven
Pushing together, Marion and Joren slide the desk the rest of the way across the floor in one short burst, blocking off the shuddering door. (The door's starting HP has been doubled)