“Not so fast, Soryn.” Korran said satisfied to answer her silence with denial. “First I return to my friends, to prove to them your procediment is safe and you are trustworthy. I’ll also have to tell then that we don’t need to insist on our cover history. Such was the agreement with your leader.”
He looks towards the wall and upon the eyes point towards the awaiting party. Her nod of understanding was enough for him to start walking. A woman of her word, said the voice of his mind.
“Ok, gather around.” He said upon reaching his travelling companions. “Act as if you’re examining me and listen well. They have a spellcaster that’ll try to probe your minds with magic and you can resist. She’s going to ask name, with which party you came to the summit and where you were when everything went to shit. I told that the story we agreed upon - craftsman wanting to sell trinkets, herbalist and wandering performers – was a cover for safety and that we ran into each other after the noise during the assembly. My suggestion is that you guys keep your thoughts fixated on the Tear and the noise. Have nothing but the memory of them in your minds. With that, you will pass.”
The words of the bard were filled with certainty that felt contagious. Confidence flowed into the trio, inspiration. He then turned to the walls.
“May I hand my blades to someone on your side, so I can get them back after we pass through your fort?”
Notes: Korran gives Inspiration to everyone. If any of the three fails a d20 test they can roll 1d6 and add the result to it.
"Does not sound so bad." Dante says with a shrug, looking over the bard's shoulder towards the elven mage. "That we do not have to tell this lie anymore pleases me." With almost no more contemplation, the flame-haired man nods his head."I will go next!"
When the others have finished speaking with Korran, he follows the man back to the wall, stopping before this spellcaster of theirs.
Out of respect, he bows in the way he was taught as a child, with his right arm across his chest. "Dante of Mylaris, my mind is a library you are free to browse."
"Of course, my apologies."Soryn replies with an apologetic bow of her head. She waits patiently while Korranreturns to his companions, hands folded in front of her. When he comes back, one of the male guards comes forward, ready to take the bard's weapons. From atop the tower, the guardswoman calls down to her companion. "Keep their weapons close, they may need them soon." The man nods, briefly inspecting the weapons before turning to walk back through the gate.
As Danteapproaches, the half-elf smiles once more. "Welcome Dante of Mylaris." There's a flicker of something in her eyes, recognition perhaps. "Though you do not strike me as having come from one of the tribes that inhabit the lands around Mount Mylaris." She waves the issue away with her hand. "Regardless, we will begin. Clear your mind, focus on nothing but the questions I ask."
"With which party did you attend the Summit?" Immediately as you begin to answer this question, you feel a cool presence slide up against your mind. Your natural mental defenses harden in response...But you relax, letting them fall.
"Where were you when the Tear opened?"
"And what is your earliest memory?" She pauses, then clarifies. "Think of your childhood."
OoC: Give some insight into Dante'semotional state. And something looming large on his mind.
"Where one is born and where one is forged into the person they're destined to become...These can be different places."Dante offers as an explanation for her observation. Following her instructions, he relaxes (or tries to) his mind.
"I attended with a group of mages I met on the road from the northern lands." He blinks slowly as he experiences the strange feeling of someone else being in his head. "I was at the temple proper, looking for someone. Then the sky split apart. The temple and it seemed the very mountain started to come down."
The last question gives him pause, and for a moment the bravado he typically wears begins to slip. He did not think of home often these days. Still, a memory comes to mind. "Playing hide-and-seek in my family's library with a friend. I hid between two shelves and got stuck. My father had to come pull me out."
Throughout the questioning, worry for his friend Cassandra always lurks just beneath the surface of his present thoughts. He had not been able to find her at the summit. He still wasn't sure if she had even been at the temple, somewhere else on the mountain...Or perhaps somewhere else entirely. He recognizes the gravity of their current situation. So while he longs to return to his search, he feels honor bound to remain with his current party. To help deal with the aftermath of this cataclysm however he can.
He cocks his head to the side. "Are you satisfied that I am not some soul draining demon?"
Soryn seems to try and remain stoic as you answer her questions, but as you mention being at the temple itself when the cataclysm occurred you see something flicker in her eyes. After you finish, she remains quiet for a moment, studying you. "You are not a soul draining demon. Nor are you some simple traveler."
She looks up to the guard tower. "He's no threat to us."
The half-elf motions you towards the gate behind you, then folds her hands in front of her again, patiently waiting for the next of you party to come forward.
Holm shoots a glance at Roland before looking back towards the walls and moving forward to meet the guards. He pulls a dagger from his belt and a spear that almost never leaves his back and hands them to the man just inside the gate before moving to meet with Soryn. As he approaches, he clears his mind as Korran had suggested, focusing on the moments of the meeting that had immediately preceded the chaos of the tear. He'd been further back in the crowd, not positioned with the more official looking Calyxi delegates, documenting the proceedings on a thin scroll while keeping an eye on a few of the sentinel dignitaries that he'd been assigned to watch, in case any of them went rogue under the pressure or temptation of so many rebel mages being present.
Dropping any pretense of a Dravican accent, the mage allows his voice to slip into its slightly more lilting native dialect, one which any self respecting linguist or anthropologist would place somewhere in the south of Calyx, some of the first territory to be conquered, well before he was born. "I am Holm Erebos. Please, proceed as you will."
As the half-elf woman asks her questions, he allows himself a moment to examine her appearance. Uncovered pointed ears, unique clothing that he guessed was what clued Roland in to her Lorian origin, and perhaps marked her as a mage. These were strange times in the land of Dravica, indeed.
"I attended the summit with the Calyxi delegation, though on paper I was a free agent. The emperor felt that having all our chickens in one basket, so to speak, at such a tense meeting..."He stops himself before allowing his mind to wander into the briefings he'd received before the journey to Sacred Light."Calyx wanted contingencies. And so here I am."
"I was stationed near the rear of the temple, practically outside. There was a crack like thunder, a hundred times louder than I'd ever heard before, then I must have blacked out. I was lucky enough to wake up near the men I'm traveling with, though I don't know any of them personally."
He has to think for a moment at the last question. A dozen memories flash through his head, each one a bit earlier than the last. Racing through the streets of the village with his older sister, falling from a tree and breaking his arm, his father reading him books of spellcraft and artifice, until finally he settles on one. It's fuzzy around the edges, as early memories tend to be, but the warmth and joy of that day was as tangible as the mage in front of him, and a smile plays across his face as he recalls the giggles of a small boy and the chastising laughter of a young woman. "In the kitchen, with my mother. I wanted to help her make bread for our dinner, but she kept having to stop and keep me from trying to eat the dough."
Roland walks in next. After he gets a few steps past the gate, he holds up his hands, "It's OK, this one is with me"he says, and a little white weasel runs out from a crack in the wall, jumps onto Roland's arm, and climbs up and sits on his shoulder.
He walks up to the elven women confidently, but internally feeling a bit nervous about revealing his familiar, obviously hiding amongst them. But what choice did he have, he would not go another step without Lojack, he would accept any consequences, but this group seemed rational, and so should expect other to use all their tools at their disposal.
As the woman asks Roland her questions, he answers them honestly...
"I attended the Summit with my Prince, Prince Raska the Third. We are from the country of Loria to the south. A place where the spirits walk with those of us who are living. You should visit it, if you haven't already of course" and he attempts to smile, mentally, hoping her mind reading magic get's his jest.
When the tear opened, I was outside the temple, walking, pacing. I was not permitted into the temple the Prince, which set me on edge. As his personal advisor and bodyguard in this land, I should have been at his side, and ... well as I said, it put me on edge. Where exactly I was when the tear opened, I can't say, somewhere along the northern side of the temple, walking past tents. I believe they bared the crest of the Calyxi.
As to my earliest memory. I remember it being dark, and cold, very cold. And then it wasn't, it was bright and warm. My father had built a fire. Well... summoned a fire is more accurate. He said we were finally safe from the demons that were hunting us, and it was safe for a fire. I remember being happy that there was warmth, that I wasn't going to freeze to death, but also being concerned over being hunted, as I vaguely knew that wasn't a good thing. As I sat alone with my mother, eating a fruit which I don't recall it's name, which was also summoned I think, I asked her, 'Ma, what's a demon?' "
Soryn studies the two of you with the same intensity as the others as you answer her questions. When it's all said and done, the four of you are let inside the palisade wall, after handing your weapons off. The half-elven women takes a moment to stare up at the mountain, gaze rising to the massive tear in the sky before she turns to follow you inside. The other woman in the guard tower begins to climb down to meet you, while a soldier wearing sentinel armor climbs up to replace her.
She throws back the hood of her cloak, revealing a sharp and striking face. Her copper-red hair is tied into a loose, practical ponytail, and a thin scar runs across her jawline. Briefly, her gaze scans across each of you before she tilts her head towards Soryn. "Am I to understand they were at the temple and survived?"
"It would appear so." The half-elf replies.
The redhead is quiet for a moment before she speaks again. "That's just not possible."
Soryn offers a shrug. "Answer their questions. Tell them what happened. And then let them fill in the gaps."
Again, she goes quiet. Then with a sigh, she begins to explain the situation. "Two weeks ago, the Temple of the Sacred Light was destroyed in some...explosion. It was almost like a second sun appeared on the mountain. The Tear ripped open in the sky, and several smaller ones all across the countryside. Demons. Spirits. The stuff of absolute nightmares begin to pour out of them."
"Most of the sentinels and mages have scattered. Both believe the other party to be responsible, and the violence between them has resumed once more."She gestures towards those gathered within this small makeshift fort. "The oathsworn...Princess Aldara's oathsworn have been trying to get a handle on things. They've convinced some of the mages and sentinels that the Tear and everything coming out of it is a greater threat than each other."
She points to the mountain top. "We fought like hell to make it to that temple. There was nothing left. How did you survive that?"
Holm swallows a lump beginning to rise in his throat. Two weeks. That was how long they had been in that strange shadow dimension. Or else they'd been trapped somewhere else without remembering it? Or even transported through time? He didn't know of any arcane magic that could accomplish either of those effects. What was happening with these rifts? And how much was okay to share?
"We...or at least I...don't really know. What I said about the crack, the blackout, it was the truth. This is the first I'm hearing about the second sun, the Tear, all of it." He looks to the others, still hesitant to share too much about where they'd been, the monsters, the voice. Dante seemed to share his sense of caution, but the other two were a bit too open for his liking. These guards didn't seem to know much beyond current events, so there wasn't any need for them to know more, right?
Dante is perhaps not as cautious as his new friend imagines him to be. Whatever information he might have withheld before, it was simply because he was not asked directly. But now confronted with such a question, he replies with a flat tone. "We were pulled into a place of despair. A realm of ill-intentioned spirits, and perhaps these demons you speak of."
He points towards the black ichor which seems to leak from the Tear above the mountain. "That substance...It webbed the sky in that place. The entire realm was filled with a dreadful presence, something evil. I think maybe this is the villain your oathsworn seek." He crosses his arms, thinking back to the danger they nearly escaped. "Another presence told us to run, guided us towards some kind of doorway that dumped us onto the mountain path. I do not think we spent two weeks there however, or it did not feel like it."
"You say the mages and sentinels have scattered. Does none of their leadership remain?"
The redhead regards Dante with a mixture of surprise and suspicion -- it seems she might be about to outright reject your claim, or question it. But then she defers to the half-elf next to her. "...Soryn?"
Soryn nods. "I suspected the nature of the Tear to be some malformed gateway to the realm of spirits...Such things occur naturally in Loria, but there hasn't been anything like it here on the mainland in...A very long time I imagine."
"It is odd though, that you would be pulled there instead of sharing the fate of the rest of those in the temple." With a light smile, the mage shrugs. "Another mystery to unravel I suppose."
The guardswoman speaks up again. "To answer your question, we have no idea who's leading the two groups right now, we haven't been back to Vault in a week"
"If we let you through and give you your weapons back, what will you do from here?"
"There's more"Roland says, following Dante's honesty, he pulls up his sleeve, showing the mark on his wrist. "This is new, a gift from my time, wherever we were... I'm not sure what it is, good? bad? any ideas?" he asks, careful to only mention his mark, leaving the others to share what they wish.
Holm elects not to reveal his mark, given that it would require him to reveal other things he didn't quite want to share with these strangers just yet. In answer to the guardswoman's question, he replies, "We were on our way down to Vault, mostly for answers, so I'd imagine we will continue on our way there, perhaps find out what's going on with the different parties that were at the summit. Have...have you heard anything about Calyx? Or Loria? Perhaps a larger, more organized group of educated mages might have additional ideas about the Tear or the things we experienced inside."
It was hard to tell what felt more surprising to him – the fact that Dante just blurted out about their forced travel or that the guards there reacted so well to it. Korran half expected them to blame the group somehow for what happened, alas no attempt to escape was necessary. At least not until Roland showed his mark.
“We never met before being dragged.” He said with a sigh. “Well, I haven’t met any of them before.”His eyes darted to the party for a moment. “Maybe we stood in the few areas where whatever wasn’t lethal. Maybe what happened to us happened to others.” His guess was as good as anyone else’s. “Anyhow, we stayed on that place for no more than a few minutes.” Yet two weeks had passed. Could it be that they stayed unconscious for the better part of it? Either that or time passed differently on that place. “And if the thing there manages to come here, we’ll need every force on the land to stop it.”
****, he said with the voice of his mind realizing that the ongoing war was now everyone’s problem. Before he could simply leave the Rebellion, move and hide. But against that thing? Laying low was a sure way to be killed.
Dante gestures broadly towards the others. "What they have said. It sounds like we would go to Vault, and speak with these Oathsworn. Sounds like they might be interested in what we have to hear."
Soryn tilts her head as she examines the mark on Roland's arm. "Curious." She steps closer, holding her hands up as if to take the druid's arm and inspect the mark closer. "May I?" She asks politely.
The guardswoman turns to Holm as she answers his questions. "There are some remnants of the Calyxi forces in Vault. Though not very many...Out of all groups in attendance, their losses were by far the worst. A sergeant by the name of Velis Kade was taking command of what was left last time I was there."She gestures towards Soryn next, "So far she's the only one from Loria we have...And she seems to know more than any mainland mage about what we're facing."
"If Vault is your destination, the two of us can accompany you. My replacement should be here this evening, and Soryn will likely have further questions for you."
"That seems agreeable to me. I'm sure you all have kept the trails safe from here to Vault, but nevertheless it will be nice to have someone with us who is perhaps a bit more familiar with the terrain." As Roland clearly exposes his mark for Soryn to examine it, Holm also takes the opportunity to casually inspect the man's mark in the daylight, having only seen his own up close so far.
[[ Not sure if there's a check I would be making here, but Holm would be looking for any similarities between his own mark and Roland's, perhaps also mentally comparing them to any otherworldly runes or bodily marks he might've read about in the past. I think that would maybe be closest to arcana? But I also understand if there's not much he can glean from merely looking. 18 arcana (or history/investigation, or 17 insight/perception, or 16 religion, if any of those apply more than arcana). ]]
The half-elven mage quickly casts a [spells]detect magic[/spell] before taking the druid's arm in her hands, inspecting the serpentine markings engraved on his arm. "Fascinating," she breathes. "And this manifested around the time of the explosion at the temple?" She releases Roland's arm, putting a finger to her lips as she seems to ponder something. "It's faint, almost hidden...But there is a whiff of magic about this mark. Hmm." Without so much as a goodbye, the woman turns on her heel, marching off towards what is presumably her tent.
"She'll be back at some point." The guardswoman says as she watches Soryn go.
"The trails aren't exactly what I would call safe. These monsters have scattered damn near everywhere. They're more active as the sun sets, but you can still run into them during the day."
"In the meantime, make yourselves comfortable...We don't have any spare tents, but you're welcome to setup your own campfire if you wish."
Holm: The mark triggers no memory for you. Aside from the color -- an almost blood red -- there aren't any similarities you notice between his and yours. As Soryn stated, they're almost certainly magical in nature, but it's either something so old its been lost to common knowledge, or something brand new.
“As I said, we’ll need every force on land to deal with this. Every ally is welcome.” Korran said when the captain offered help but that was not his only reason. There was strength in numbers and everything suggested that the way to Vault was filled with infernals. Besides the presence of those two would be further proof of their identity. Make it easier to prove that no side on the Temple caused the Tear, and that everyone better stick the **** together if they wanted to survive. He doubted his travelling companions shared the same practical motivations for accepting the offer but they did so all the same and wounded and tired as he was that was good enough. “Just please leave our weapons at arms throw. Worst case scenario we’ll need to take them and hold the fort with you.” That and if his blades were too far away one of them would disappear. “No need to tell us where they are. Just have people ready to fling them in our direction should battle call.”
His eyes turned to the others. The bard had no tent or sleeping sack on him, but was more than used to resting on the ground.
“So, where do you guys want to rest?”
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“Not so fast, Soryn.” Korran said satisfied to answer her silence with denial. “First I return to my friends, to prove to them your procediment is safe and you are trustworthy. I’ll also have to tell then that we don’t need to insist on our cover history. Such was the agreement with your leader.”
He looks towards the wall and upon the eyes point towards the awaiting party. Her nod of understanding was enough for him to start walking. A woman of her word, said the voice of his mind.
“Ok, gather around.” He said upon reaching his travelling companions. “Act as if you’re examining me and listen well. They have a spellcaster that’ll try to probe your minds with magic and you can resist. She’s going to ask name, with which party you came to the summit and where you were when everything went to shit. I told that the story we agreed upon - craftsman wanting to sell trinkets, herbalist and wandering performers – was a cover for safety and that we ran into each other after the noise during the assembly. My suggestion is that you guys keep your thoughts fixated on the Tear and the noise. Have nothing but the memory of them in your minds. With that, you will pass.”
The words of the bard were filled with certainty that felt contagious. Confidence flowed into the trio, inspiration. He then turned to the walls.
“May I hand my blades to someone on your side, so I can get them back after we pass through your fort?”
Notes: Korran gives Inspiration to everyone. If any of the three fails a d20 test they can roll 1d6 and add the result to it.
"Does not sound so bad." Dante says with a shrug, looking over the bard's shoulder towards the elven mage. "That we do not have to tell this lie anymore pleases me." With almost no more contemplation, the flame-haired man nods his head. "I will go next!"
When the others have finished speaking with Korran, he follows the man back to the wall, stopping before this spellcaster of theirs.
Out of respect, he bows in the way he was taught as a child, with his right arm across his chest. "Dante of Mylaris, my mind is a library you are free to browse."
WIS Save: 18
"Of course, my apologies." Soryn replies with an apologetic bow of her head. She waits patiently while Korran returns to his companions, hands folded in front of her. When he comes back, one of the male guards comes forward, ready to take the bard's weapons. From atop the tower, the guardswoman calls down to her companion. "Keep their weapons close, they may need them soon." The man nods, briefly inspecting the weapons before turning to walk back through the gate.
As Dante approaches, the half-elf smiles once more. "Welcome Dante of Mylaris." There's a flicker of something in her eyes, recognition perhaps. "Though you do not strike me as having come from one of the tribes that inhabit the lands around Mount Mylaris." She waves the issue away with her hand. "Regardless, we will begin. Clear your mind, focus on nothing but the questions I ask."
"With which party did you attend the Summit?" Immediately as you begin to answer this question, you feel a cool presence slide up against your mind. Your natural mental defenses harden in response...But you relax, letting them fall.
"Where were you when the Tear opened?"
"And what is your earliest memory?" She pauses, then clarifies. "Think of your childhood."
OoC: Give some insight into Dante's emotional state. And something looming large on his mind.
"Where one is born and where one is forged into the person they're destined to become...These can be different places." Dante offers as an explanation for her observation. Following her instructions, he relaxes (or tries to) his mind.
"I attended with a group of mages I met on the road from the northern lands." He blinks slowly as he experiences the strange feeling of someone else being in his head. "I was at the temple proper, looking for someone. Then the sky split apart. The temple and it seemed the very mountain started to come down."
The last question gives him pause, and for a moment the bravado he typically wears begins to slip. He did not think of home often these days. Still, a memory comes to mind. "Playing hide-and-seek in my family's library with a friend. I hid between two shelves and got stuck. My father had to come pull me out."
Throughout the questioning, worry for his friend Cassandra always lurks just beneath the surface of his present thoughts. He had not been able to find her at the summit. He still wasn't sure if she had even been at the temple, somewhere else on the mountain...Or perhaps somewhere else entirely. He recognizes the gravity of their current situation. So while he longs to return to his search, he feels honor bound to remain with his current party. To help deal with the aftermath of this cataclysm however he can.
He cocks his head to the side. "Are you satisfied that I am not some soul draining demon?"
Soryn seems to try and remain stoic as you answer her questions, but as you mention being at the temple itself when the cataclysm occurred you see something flicker in her eyes. After you finish, she remains quiet for a moment, studying you. "You are not a soul draining demon. Nor are you some simple traveler."
She looks up to the guard tower. "He's no threat to us."
The half-elf motions you towards the gate behind you, then folds her hands in front of her again, patiently waiting for the next of you party to come forward.
Holm shoots a glance at Roland before looking back towards the walls and moving forward to meet the guards. He pulls a dagger from his belt and a spear that almost never leaves his back and hands them to the man just inside the gate before moving to meet with Soryn. As he approaches, he clears his mind as Korran had suggested, focusing on the moments of the meeting that had immediately preceded the chaos of the tear. He'd been further back in the crowd, not positioned with the more official looking Calyxi delegates, documenting the proceedings on a thin scroll while keeping an eye on a few of the sentinel dignitaries that he'd been assigned to watch, in case any of them went rogue under the pressure or temptation of so many rebel mages being present.
Dropping any pretense of a Dravican accent, the mage allows his voice to slip into its slightly more lilting native dialect, one which any self respecting linguist or anthropologist would place somewhere in the south of Calyx, some of the first territory to be conquered, well before he was born. "I am Holm Erebos. Please, proceed as you will."
As the half-elf woman asks her questions, he allows himself a moment to examine her appearance. Uncovered pointed ears, unique clothing that he guessed was what clued Roland in to her Lorian origin, and perhaps marked her as a mage. These were strange times in the land of Dravica, indeed.
"I attended the summit with the Calyxi delegation, though on paper I was a free agent. The emperor felt that having all our chickens in one basket, so to speak, at such a tense meeting..." He stops himself before allowing his mind to wander into the briefings he'd received before the journey to Sacred Light. "Calyx wanted contingencies. And so here I am."
"I was stationed near the rear of the temple, practically outside. There was a crack like thunder, a hundred times louder than I'd ever heard before, then I must have blacked out. I was lucky enough to wake up near the men I'm traveling with, though I don't know any of them personally."
He has to think for a moment at the last question. A dozen memories flash through his head, each one a bit earlier than the last. Racing through the streets of the village with his older sister, falling from a tree and breaking his arm, his father reading him books of spellcraft and artifice, until finally he settles on one. It's fuzzy around the edges, as early memories tend to be, but the warmth and joy of that day was as tangible as the mage in front of him, and a smile plays across his face as he recalls the giggles of a small boy and the chastising laughter of a young woman. "In the kitchen, with my mother. I wanted to help her make bread for our dinner, but she kept having to stop and keep me from trying to eat the dough."
"Is that everything you need?"
Roland walks in next. After he gets a few steps past the gate, he holds up his hands, "It's OK, this one is with me" he says, and a little white weasel runs out from a crack in the wall, jumps onto Roland's arm, and climbs up and sits on his shoulder.
He walks up to the elven women confidently, but internally feeling a bit nervous about revealing his familiar, obviously hiding amongst them. But what choice did he have, he would not go another step without Lojack, he would accept any consequences, but this group seemed rational, and so should expect other to use all their tools at their disposal.
As the woman asks Roland her questions, he answers them honestly...
"I attended the Summit with my Prince, Prince Raska the Third. We are from the country of Loria to the south. A place where the spirits walk with those of us who are living. You should visit it, if you haven't already of course" and he attempts to smile, mentally, hoping her mind reading magic get's his jest.
When the tear opened, I was outside the temple, walking, pacing. I was not permitted into the temple the Prince, which set me on edge. As his personal advisor and bodyguard in this land, I should have been at his side, and ... well as I said, it put me on edge. Where exactly I was when the tear opened, I can't say, somewhere along the northern side of the temple, walking past tents. I believe they bared the crest of the Calyxi.
As to my earliest memory. I remember it being dark, and cold, very cold. And then it wasn't, it was bright and warm. My father had built a fire. Well... summoned a fire is more accurate. He said we were finally safe from the demons that were hunting us, and it was safe for a fire. I remember being happy that there was warmth, that I wasn't going to freeze to death, but also being concerned over being hunted, as I vaguely knew that wasn't a good thing. As I sat alone with my mother, eating a fruit which I don't recall it's name, which was also summoned I think, I asked her, 'Ma, what's a demon?' "
Soryn studies the two of you with the same intensity as the others as you answer her questions. When it's all said and done, the four of you are let inside the palisade wall, after handing your weapons off. The half-elven women takes a moment to stare up at the mountain, gaze rising to the massive tear in the sky before she turns to follow you inside. The other woman in the guard tower begins to climb down to meet you, while a soldier wearing sentinel armor climbs up to replace her.
She throws back the hood of her cloak, revealing a sharp and striking face. Her copper-red hair is tied into a loose, practical ponytail, and a thin scar runs across her jawline. Briefly, her gaze scans across each of you before she tilts her head towards Soryn. "Am I to understand they were at the temple and survived?"
"It would appear so." The half-elf replies.
The redhead is quiet for a moment before she speaks again. "That's just not possible."
Soryn offers a shrug. "Answer their questions. Tell them what happened. And then let them fill in the gaps."
Again, she goes quiet. Then with a sigh, she begins to explain the situation. "Two weeks ago, the Temple of the Sacred Light was destroyed in some...explosion. It was almost like a second sun appeared on the mountain. The Tear ripped open in the sky, and several smaller ones all across the countryside. Demons. Spirits. The stuff of absolute nightmares begin to pour out of them."
"Most of the sentinels and mages have scattered. Both believe the other party to be responsible, and the violence between them has resumed once more." She gestures towards those gathered within this small makeshift fort. "The oathsworn...Princess Aldara's oathsworn have been trying to get a handle on things. They've convinced some of the mages and sentinels that the Tear and everything coming out of it is a greater threat than each other."
She points to the mountain top. "We fought like hell to make it to that temple. There was nothing left. How did you survive that?"
Holm swallows a lump beginning to rise in his throat. Two weeks. That was how long they had been in that strange shadow dimension. Or else they'd been trapped somewhere else without remembering it? Or even transported through time? He didn't know of any arcane magic that could accomplish either of those effects. What was happening with these rifts? And how much was okay to share?
"We...or at least I...don't really know. What I said about the crack, the blackout, it was the truth. This is the first I'm hearing about the second sun, the Tear, all of it." He looks to the others, still hesitant to share too much about where they'd been, the monsters, the voice. Dante seemed to share his sense of caution, but the other two were a bit too open for his liking. These guards didn't seem to know much beyond current events, so there wasn't any need for them to know more, right?
Dante is perhaps not as cautious as his new friend imagines him to be. Whatever information he might have withheld before, it was simply because he was not asked directly. But now confronted with such a question, he replies with a flat tone. "We were pulled into a place of despair. A realm of ill-intentioned spirits, and perhaps these demons you speak of."
He points towards the black ichor which seems to leak from the Tear above the mountain. "That substance...It webbed the sky in that place. The entire realm was filled with a dreadful presence, something evil. I think maybe this is the villain your oathsworn seek." He crosses his arms, thinking back to the danger they nearly escaped. "Another presence told us to run, guided us towards some kind of doorway that dumped us onto the mountain path. I do not think we spent two weeks there however, or it did not feel like it."
"You say the mages and sentinels have scattered. Does none of their leadership remain?"
The redhead regards Dante with a mixture of surprise and suspicion -- it seems she might be about to outright reject your claim, or question it. But then she defers to the half-elf next to her. "...Soryn?"
Soryn nods. "I suspected the nature of the Tear to be some malformed gateway to the realm of spirits...Such things occur naturally in Loria, but there hasn't been anything like it here on the mainland in...A very long time I imagine."
"It is odd though, that you would be pulled there instead of sharing the fate of the rest of those in the temple." With a light smile, the mage shrugs. "Another mystery to unravel I suppose."
The guardswoman speaks up again. "To answer your question, we have no idea who's leading the two groups right now, we haven't been back to Vault in a week"
"If we let you through and give you your weapons back, what will you do from here?"
"There's more" Roland says, following Dante's honesty, he pulls up his sleeve, showing the mark on his wrist. "This is new, a gift from my time, wherever we were... I'm not sure what it is, good? bad? any ideas?" he asks, careful to only mention his mark, leaving the others to share what they wish.
Holm elects not to reveal his mark, given that it would require him to reveal other things he didn't quite want to share with these strangers just yet. In answer to the guardswoman's question, he replies, "We were on our way down to Vault, mostly for answers, so I'd imagine we will continue on our way there, perhaps find out what's going on with the different parties that were at the summit. Have...have you heard anything about Calyx? Or Loria? Perhaps a larger, more organized group of educated mages might have additional ideas about the Tear or the things we experienced inside."
It was hard to tell what felt more surprising to him – the fact that Dante just blurted out about their forced travel or that the guards there reacted so well to it. Korran half expected them to blame the group somehow for what happened, alas no attempt to escape was necessary. At least not until Roland showed his mark.
“We never met before being dragged.” He said with a sigh. “Well, I haven’t met any of them before.” His eyes darted to the party for a moment. “Maybe we stood in the few areas where whatever wasn’t lethal. Maybe what happened to us happened to others.” His guess was as good as anyone else’s. “Anyhow, we stayed on that place for no more than a few minutes.” Yet two weeks had passed. Could it be that they stayed unconscious for the better part of it? Either that or time passed differently on that place. “And if the thing there manages to come here, we’ll need every force on the land to stop it.”
****, he said with the voice of his mind realizing that the ongoing war was now everyone’s problem. Before he could simply leave the Rebellion, move and hide. But against that thing? Laying low was a sure way to be killed.
Dante gestures broadly towards the others. "What they have said. It sounds like we would go to Vault, and speak with these Oathsworn. Sounds like they might be interested in what we have to hear."
Soryn tilts her head as she examines the mark on Roland's arm. "Curious." She steps closer, holding her hands up as if to take the druid's arm and inspect the mark closer. "May I?" She asks politely.
The guardswoman turns to Holm as she answers his questions. "There are some remnants of the Calyxi forces in Vault. Though not very many...Out of all groups in attendance, their losses were by far the worst. A sergeant by the name of Velis Kade was taking command of what was left last time I was there." She gestures towards Soryn next, "So far she's the only one from Loria we have...And she seems to know more than any mainland mage about what we're facing."
"If Vault is your destination, the two of us can accompany you. My replacement should be here this evening, and Soryn will likely have further questions for you."
Roland lets her inspect the mark, no problem.
"That seems agreeable to me. I'm sure you all have kept the trails safe from here to Vault, but nevertheless it will be nice to have someone with us who is perhaps a bit more familiar with the terrain." As Roland clearly exposes his mark for Soryn to examine it, Holm also takes the opportunity to casually inspect the man's mark in the daylight, having only seen his own up close so far.
[[ Not sure if there's a check I would be making here, but Holm would be looking for any similarities between his own mark and Roland's, perhaps also mentally comparing them to any otherworldly runes or bodily marks he might've read about in the past. I think that would maybe be closest to arcana? But I also understand if there's not much he can glean from merely looking. 18 arcana (or history/investigation, or 17 insight/perception, or 16 religion, if any of those apply more than arcana). ]]
The half-elven mage quickly casts a [spells]detect magic[/spell] before taking the druid's arm in her hands, inspecting the serpentine markings engraved on his arm. "Fascinating," she breathes. "And this manifested around the time of the explosion at the temple?" She releases Roland's arm, putting a finger to her lips as she seems to ponder something. "It's faint, almost hidden...But there is a whiff of magic about this mark. Hmm." Without so much as a goodbye, the woman turns on her heel, marching off towards what is presumably her tent.
"She'll be back at some point." The guardswoman says as she watches Soryn go.
"The trails aren't exactly what I would call safe. These monsters have scattered damn near everywhere. They're more active as the sun sets, but you can still run into them during the day."
"In the meantime, make yourselves comfortable...We don't have any spare tents, but you're welcome to setup your own campfire if you wish."
Holm: The mark triggers no memory for you. Aside from the color -- an almost blood red -- there aren't any similarities you notice between his and yours. As Soryn stated, they're almost certainly magical in nature, but it's either something so old its been lost to common knowledge, or something brand new.
“As I said, we’ll need every force on land to deal with this. Every ally is welcome.” Korran said when the captain offered help but that was not his only reason. There was strength in numbers and everything suggested that the way to Vault was filled with infernals. Besides the presence of those two would be further proof of their identity. Make it easier to prove that no side on the Temple caused the Tear, and that everyone better stick the **** together if they wanted to survive. He doubted his travelling companions shared the same practical motivations for accepting the offer but they did so all the same and wounded and tired as he was that was good enough. “Just please leave our weapons at arms throw. Worst case scenario we’ll need to take them and hold the fort with you.” That and if his blades were too far away one of them would disappear. “No need to tell us where they are. Just have people ready to fling them in our direction should battle call.”
His eyes turned to the others. The bard had no tent or sleeping sack on him, but was more than used to resting on the ground.
“So, where do you guys want to rest?”