Starker, rummaging through the haul:”This is an odd artifact that might be described as a ‘Collection of cords and wires from Illiandil's Library’”. Shows it around and tries to discern if it is of any use.
Chadwick moves up towards the door. "Once the door gives way there might be shrapnel. Might be best to side to the side and close in once they start filling the passage."
Yartol moves to the side opposite Chadwick, "I appreciate you confidence. But, I'm not sure this will change the outcome. It will only delay it. I regret not being able to wreak vengeance upon Gryndreneur."
Serethia speaks up, "It is time to go. Figure out how to get that room to believe you are Illiandil and let's get out of here. What options do you have available for defense? I am out of spells. Give me the Summon Greater Demon Scrolls and the Banishment scroll. I can read those while he," pointing at Starker, "can use his remaining power. What other resources do you have to call upon in a big fight?"
"Looks like we are running out of time, let's use Yartol's suggestion and see if there is something we have not DONE with the items we have collected."
Kragen looks to Xymox "Master Bard, care to try you hand at the Wizards device?", cocks his head "Unless others have a better suggestion, here is what i propose."
his pace quickens hearing the Mukbok progress. "As we have the means to bypass the floor, one of us should try again. I may be needed to bolster the group with Tyr's restorative and defensive powers. So i suggest you take the Wand of the Void, The wizards crown and the Ring. However, this time, wear the crown on your head, the ring on your finger and have the wand in your hand. Then examine the Phylactery and the pedestal to see if there are clues to some action that may be required. The Eyes of the Eagle gives me some advantage at perceiving the obscure, however I have confidence you will not need them." Pauses to hear rebuttal's or counterarguments.
Each of you develops a sense of foreboding in your stomach. You all know that there is no way you will find victory fighting the mukbok. The six you can see along with a powerful spell caster can overwhelm you with small losses. Those are the ones you can see.
Chadwick downs a superior healing potion (couldn't get it to roll) then grins at Yartol while waking over to clap him on the back. "Our story doesn't end here, even in this foul place Tyr blesses us. This is gonna be one hell of a fight, but we'll be reminiscing about it over ale in a few days."
Yartol looks at Chadwick, "You really believe that, don't you?"
Serethia looks to Chadwick, mouth open. Then closed. Then curses. At least you think it is cursing. If not, the language she has chosen is a very unpleasant one to listen to. "I forgot about that, thank you. Banishment will work, it is an Abjuration." She turns to Xymox and Kragen, "Any progress on the 'We don't make a last stand' in this room planning?"
To Yartol "Absolutely, I've never had any reason to doubt. However, it doesn't mean we have to do things the hard way...even if I think it's more fun. Got an idea, be right back"
Chadwick trots back to the small room, but stops before the place where the floor turned to goo. He squats down peering down at the figures beneath the floor.
"Y'all have been suffering here awhile I'd imagine, and we want to free you. Any information you can relay on how to free you and or disarm the traps would be exceedingly helpful."
He takes off his gauntlet and presses his hand to the floor while looking down. Saying a prayer to Tyr for salvation for those trapped beneath.
The drow looks at Trolkarl and sighs. "Here goes nothing..."
Xymox moves with deliberate calm. He slides the ring onto his finger. Sets the crown upon his head. Takes up the staff without flourish—like reclaiming a habit, not a prize.
Only then does he speak.
“This isn’t a lock. It’s a recognition.”
He exhales softly, unimpressed.
“You don’t answer fear. You answer continuity.”
A single step, slow, measured—but not toward the phylactery.
“Illiandil did not steal power. He returned to it.” “The body failed. The will did not.”
His voice lowers, steady as a tomb sealing.
“I am not here to break you. I am not here to take you.”
A pause—just long enough to feel intentional.
“I am here because this place exists for me.”
He tilts his head, listening as though to an old memory.
“The covenant remains. The bearer has come back.”
Xymox straightens, authority settling like dust after centuries.
Xymox dons the crown and takes up the staff. He places the ring upon his finger and gazes about the room. His eyes are sharp, piercing. They seem to look right through you and into your core, drawing it out. He turns and moves down the passage into the room with the phylactery. He walks across the floor, the hands of those below reach up to support him. He now stands before the pedestal, the ruby of the phylactery glowing a brilliant red.
Starker, rummaging through the haul:”This is an odd artifact that might be described as a ‘Collection of cords and wires from Illiandil's Library’”. Shows it around and tries to discern if it is of any use.
arcana = 24
With further study the collection seems to be a book equivalent. It will require more in depth study to translate it.
(( At least days of research to decipher. ))
Another crash at the wall. It is faltering. You get a glimpse of at least six of the mukbok on the other side, and the spell caster.
Chadwick moves up towards the door. "Once the door gives way there might be shrapnel. Might be best to side to the side and close in once they start filling the passage."
Yartol moves to the side opposite Chadwick, "I appreciate you confidence. But, I'm not sure this will change the outcome. It will only delay it. I regret not being able to wreak vengeance upon Gryndreneur."
Serethia speaks up, "It is time to go. Figure out how to get that room to believe you are Illiandil and let's get out of here. What options do you have available for defense? I am out of spells. Give me the Summon Greater Demon Scrolls and the Banishment scroll. I can read those while he," pointing at Starker, "can use his remaining power. What other resources do you have to call upon in a big fight?"
"Looks like we are running out of time, let's use Yartol's suggestion and see if there is something we have not DONE with the items we have collected."
Kragen looks to Xymox "Master Bard, care to try you hand at the Wizards device?", cocks his head "Unless others have a better suggestion, here is what i propose."
his pace quickens hearing the Mukbok progress. "As we have the means to bypass the floor, one of us should try again. I may be needed to bolster the group with Tyr's restorative and defensive powers. So i suggest you take the Wand of the Void, The wizards crown and the Ring. However, this time, wear the crown on your head, the ring on your finger and have the wand in your hand. Then examine the Phylactery and the pedestal to see if there are clues to some action that may be required. The Eyes of the Eagle gives me some advantage at perceiving the obscure, however I have confidence you will not need them." Pauses to hear rebuttal's or counterarguments.
Kragen then begins to prepare for battle.
Starker tops up on healing potions. (We have 3 greater hesling potions in party inventory. -anyone rlse?)
Each of you develops a sense of foreboding in your stomach. You all know that there is no way you will find victory fighting the mukbok. The six you can see along with a powerful spell caster can overwhelm you with small losses. Those are the ones you can see.
Chadwick downs a superior healing potion (couldn't get it to roll) then grins at Yartol while waking over to clap him on the back. "Our story doesn't end here, even in this foul place Tyr blesses us. This is gonna be one hell of a fight, but we'll be reminiscing about it over ale in a few days."
"Would the summon demon spell in work? Thought summoning spells were locked down?"
Yartol looks at Chadwick, "You really believe that, don't you?"
Serethia looks to Chadwick, mouth open. Then closed. Then curses. At least you think it is cursing. If not, the language she has chosen is a very unpleasant one to listen to. "I forgot about that, thank you. Banishment will work, it is an Abjuration." She turns to Xymox and Kragen, "Any progress on the 'We don't make a last stand' in this room planning?"
To Yartol "Absolutely, I've never had any reason to doubt. However, it doesn't mean we have to do things the hard way...even if I think it's more fun. Got an idea, be right back"
Chadwick trots back to the small room, but stops before the place where the floor turned to goo. He squats down peering down at the figures beneath the floor.
"Y'all have been suffering here awhile I'd imagine, and we want to free you. Any information you can relay on how to free you and or disarm the traps would be exceedingly helpful."
He takes off his gauntlet and presses his hand to the floor while looking down. Saying a prayer to Tyr for salvation for those trapped beneath.
Trolkarl follows Chadwick to see what he has planned.
Watches, then shakes his head.
Preparing Sacred Flame for the first undead that attacks Chadwick
Calls back
Whoever is going to try to impersonate the lich, let's hurry up before Chadwick gets too creative.
The drow looks at Trolkarl and sighs. "Here goes nothing..."
Xymox moves with deliberate calm. He slides the ring onto his finger. Sets the crown upon his head. Takes up the staff without flourish—like reclaiming a habit, not a prize.
Only then does he speak.
“This isn’t a lock. It’s a recognition.”
He exhales softly, unimpressed.
“You don’t answer fear. You answer continuity.”
A single step, slow, measured—but not toward the phylactery.
“Illiandil did not steal power. He returned to it.”
“The body failed. The will did not.”
His voice lowers, steady as a tomb sealing.
“I am not here to break you.
I am not here to take you.”
A pause—just long enough to feel intentional.
“I am here because this place exists for me.”
He tilts his head, listening as though to an old memory.
“The covenant remains.
The bearer has come back.”
Xymox straightens, authority settling like dust after centuries.
“Stand down.”
Xymox dons the crown and takes up the staff. He places the ring upon his finger and gazes about the room. His eyes are sharp, piercing. They seem to look right through you and into your core, drawing it out. He turns and moves down the passage into the room with the phylactery. He walks across the floor, the hands of those below reach up to support him. He now stands before the pedestal, the ruby of the phylactery glowing a brilliant red.
Chadwick stands up putting his gauntlet back on, and looks at Xymox and the hands supporting him.
"Huh" he adds helpfully
Starker: “Grab the object and let us drop it into one of the bottomless pits.”
Xymox reaches out and grasps the phylactery. After the briefest pause he turns and walks back to the library.
Xymox walks slowly up to Trolkarl and holds out his hand with the phylactery.
The bard looks stone faced and straight ahead while holding out his hand.
He is staring out into nothingness, then winks at Trolkarl without revealing a thing.