THE MONOLITH
THE FOUNTAIN OF URTHIS
TEMPLE INTERIOR 
CORRIDOR OF THE SUPPLICANT <----

A shallow corridor ran slightly down from south to north. Along the smooth inky black walls we could see with our own eyes symbols within symbols of a language unknown to us - carved perfectly into the stone on each side. It was impossible to determine the age of such writings, and futile to try to interpret them.

HIGH ALTAR OF THE HERALD <----

We came to another room in the monolith.

It was about 30 feet wide and 40 feet long. More of the symbols decorated the entire chamber. An altar of sorts stood in front of a huge black stone statue of what our eyes perceived as a elven female in a standing reverent pose. The statue did not move, but it looked real enough to put some of us on edge. On the altar was what appeared to be an inky black substance, wet, thick, and fresh. The symbols on the wall, when we attempted to read them, hurt our minds.

ARCANA DC20: Father and Vulcan have +10 with advantage on this roll.

A passageway led east and south.

Ever since the group started down the path towards the monolith, Freya could hear the beating of her and everyone's excited hearts around them.  The coolness of the darkness enveloping them as they stepped into the monolith itself caused her to momentarily waiver in her step, as if she were about to disapparate again.  Ever so quietly, she began to mumble to herself:

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."

Watching Vulcan fondle the font, she suddenly felt the wave of fear escape her, to be replaced by serene calmness.  Suddenly, she polymorphs into a translucent mist!  The wispy mist surrounds the group as we continue on upwards, to the next higher level, as Freya continues along with the group in this magical form.

Arcana: 23

Madison whipped out her pistols, only to realize the mist was Freya. She swore some terrible words and sheathed her guns, on edge. Looking at the symbols hurt her head, and the low rumble of the unknown heartbeat kept her on edge. She walked towards one of the walls, looked at the symbols. Looking closely, they appeared to be so very simple, yet impossibly complex. As she focused deeper on them, for a moment she could see the symbols had symbols within them, and the harder she focused, the more she could see "deeper" into them.

She did not recognize the statue. She looked at it, the woman was calm, serene, reverent. Who was this person? How was the black stone carved so perfectly.

And, Gods Forsaken, what was this horrible wet liquid on the altar. How could it still be fresh if this place was so old..but..how old WAS this place?

As her head hurt, and her mind raced, her breathing quickened.

Dia sets a hand lightly on Madison's shoulder, making sure not to startle the Dawnhammer. "Breathe, darling," she murmurs softly. "Stay focused on our task. Or on something else that's not the effect this place has."

"How can you remain so calm? Madison asked. "I feel like we are in the heart of darkness..a terrible place, alien, and unknown.."

But she was right.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Father breathes as he approaches the altar, further ignoring the unease his teammates felt. His eyes scan the room, his smile as wide as can be. "Such sights... You all should be grateful to lay your eyes on them.."

I have a negative modifier :( 27

Dia winks at Madison. "By focusing on something else, of course," she murmurs before giving Father a slow, half-challenging smile. "So this is the touch of the one you serve, hmm?"

Tora's eyes scanned the alters and the monolith in contemplative silence her fingers occasionally brushing the walls that she knew to be safe. She felt uneasy here, but trusted the others had it under control. She hoped they were at least competent enough to not get them all murdered here. 

As she stepped up beside Madison and Dia, her eyes scanned the statue and alter with slight disinterest as she spoke calmly. "We are. But... panic causes clumsiness. Clumsiness causes death. Better to focus on else things."

Arcana: 11

THE MONOLITH
THE FOUNTAIN OF URTHIS
TEMPLE INTERIOR 
CORRIDOR OF THE SUPPLICANT
HIGH ALTAR OF THE HERALD <----

The symbols on the wall appear to describe a story. It is impossible to discern a beginning or end as to where the story begins, as each symbol appears to contain fragments of information that could be used as a whole, but you're not entirely sure. You are able to tell that each symbol contains information about five different entities of incomprehensible cosmic power altering and consuming worlds across different realities. Some of the symbols tell about events that specifically transform native life forms into beings that act as representatives of these powers. You could spend multiple lifetimes and only read about a fraction of the information contained on these walls.

The symbols make no sense otherwise, to anyone else who reads them.

Madison felt Dia and Tora close to her, but was transfixed at the statue. The elven woman appeared calm, at peace. She was dressed in what appeared to be a simple tight shift - at least - that's what she could discern from the perfect black stone carving. The statue had no color to it, it was perfectly black, and the more she looked at it, she determined two things: one, she had no idea who this woman was, but she was a life form that Madison was familiar with - a woman, elven, long hair. Two eyes, nose, a mouth. The other thing was the statue appeared to be completely still, yet move imperceptibly at the same time, and a wave of dread began to rise up in her gut, as if her mind was having trouble interpreting what her eyes were trying to tell her. 

She slowly backed away.

EXITS: East or West.

Although she can’t interact with anything while in mist form, Freya can nonetheless inspect the environment around her. So, she spends time swirling around the elven statue, trying to figure out who or what is. Perception: 11

The statue, being perfectly carved from what appears to be perfectly back stone, is in a reverent pose standing in front of the altar. There is no writing, no symbols, and to you, nothing more than a large statue of an elven woman. There are no color variations on her, so you can't tell if it would be, say, a drow or a surface elf.

Villanelle sneers in disgust at the statue of the elf before pointing west.

Discerning nothing of interest or value from the statue, Freya likewise floats west and travels with the group to the next area.

I'll let people catch up then update tonight.

LeBlanc's mouth would involuntarily gape open a little as Father followed up Vulcan's fondling with his own pair of tentacles to tickle. She'd swallow to push the bile down, again, and to close her mouth. With the path being successfully cleared, Exelda would push forward to follow along with the others into the shallow corridor and out into the next chamber.

Just as she thought her goosebumps were about to fade, a cool wisp blows past. Fickle Freya. She thinks to herself as chills roll through her body and lets out a sigh.

Xelda was not in the mood to invite more darkness into her mind, knowing there were only more horrors to come. But, shadows tend to have their way of casting themselves directly into ones path when they want it the lease. Her eyes would fall upon the runes displayed before them. She dare not touch them, hoping to preserve what bits of her mind remains until she can decide her path for herself. Though, her will didn't stop the headache that would emerge, pounding along with the heartbeat.

Arcana: 8

LeBlanc could not deny that she was drawn to the beauty of a figure familiar to her. No she did not know who the woman was, but her eyes relaxed for a brief moment seeing a figure that can represent serenity or tranquility. It wouldn't take long for that thought to pass, as dread quickly wiped away any feeling of comfort. She'd stand there long enough to know she'd rather follow the group west than stick around with the statue.

THE MONOLITH
THE FOUNTAIN OF URTHIS
TEMPLE INTERIOR 
CORRIDOR OF THE SUPPLICANT
HIGH ALTAR OF THE HERALD 
UNHOLY CIRCLE OF RBTECHA <----

We entered another lightless room. It was circular, about 40 feet in diameter. A large perfectly smooth black rock altar stood at the west end of the room. Behind the altar, another massive statue stood reverently behind it. The statue was of a half humanoid, half tentacled monstrosity. Just looking at it put some of us on edge. What was most strange about these rooms is that no dust or particles could be found anywhere, as if this place had been perfectly preserved. How could this be? Barely audible against the thumping heartbeat in our minds, the only other sound we heard since coming into the Monolith was a slithering that seemed to come from behind the stone walls of this massive structure. It made our skin crawl.

On the altar, another black puddle of shadow slowly writhed on it. A passageway lead north.

From the limits of perception, something in the room was calling to you all. The softest whisper in a language no one but Father and Vulcan understood. The softest, imperceptible whispers in the deepest, furthest recesses of what was left of your minds.

Madison's heart rate began to quicken, unlike the one pounding softly in her head.

Vulcan, unlike many in the room, doesn't show disgust or judgement towards the elven statue, but intrigue. Instead, like most things in this place, he felt a strange intrigue, and approached. Recalling the stories of his ancestors, on how they once crafted the first blades and bullets that drove these people to extinction, and of the regret of doing so. He recalled the praise his father spoke of, when boasting of Dwarven armorers, and Elven blade makers. Of the beauty and prowess that their hammers crafted. He to, felt pity and respect for such figures, and in a strange, and surprising show of respect, knelt by the feet of this statue, and placed a hand on it. As he felt the material, taking in it's texture, he closed his eyes, and mummered in that strange alien language, something strange.

When he was done, he got up and followed the rest of the party, taking out the shard he kept earlier from the Basin and beginning to inspect it more thoroughly.
Investigation: 23

The rock, even broken, feels impossibly smooth in your hand. It is cool to the touch, and you don't recognize it's material. Even at the broken edges, if you run your finger along the breaks, you do not cut yourself. Every side of the rock is perfect. Black. You have seen onyx, or obsidian before, but the darkness of this stone makes them a whole different shade of black.

"What the **** are you saying?" Villanelle says, in reaction to Vulcan's continued insistence on speaking in what sounds like gibberish.