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No. 11254
Audio
29_-_Repression_(Memoro_de_la_S^tono).mp3
- (4.89MB
, 29 - Repression (Memoro de la S^tono).mp3
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The five adventurers gather around in a circle as Sariel begins the ritual, each lending their strength and focus to its shaping. Savenoul stands back, looking on in wonder. As the mage begins directing the ritual, the room seems to slip away from the consciousness of each of you as it had when you performed this ritual before the fiery leyline...
A duel. A cavern, deep below the surface, and two figures battling on a narrow land bridge. At each end of the bridge are tunnels, echoing sounds of distant battle as others fight, yet these two battle on heedless. Below the naturally-formed land bridge, you can see that the ground doesn't seem too far downwards at first, but it slopes and gives way to an eerie blackness that is almost unnatural. A bald and bearded orc in spiked scale armor wields a massive battle-axe alongside a wicked-looking spiked gauntlet in mortal combat with a hide-armored, gray-haired orc. You recognize these two from before--Ragrim Dragonsworn and Obould Many-Arrows the first.
Obould's battle axe clangs to the ground as he slams another weapon--a massive war-pole into the ground. The two were exchanging words, but you couldn't make them out before. Now, sounds are no longer muffled, and you can hear the entire cavern shake and reverberate as Obould channels enormous power through his weapon. Ragrim lets loose a battle cry and charges, somehow keeping his footing as the land bridge trembles. A split-second before his great sword slashes into the future ruler, Obould sweeps his polearm in a great arc, and a wave of immense elemental power ruptures the land bridge, tearing it completely apart. Ragrim falls backwards, down, down into the darkness... Obould also falls backwards, as if amazed at the own power he'd brought forth, but the section of the land bridge he stood on is now simply a ledge looking over the pit.
You feel your consciousness seem to slide farther and farther away from the scene, into blackness, until you hear a voice cut into your mind. The words it speaks are unintelligible, and not just because of your distorted senses like before--it's not of any language that any of you are familiar with. Your view seems to "turn," as it were, and into view slides a single figure, sitting cross-legged in what appears to be complete darkness. Faint traces of light seem to seep in around the edges, illuminating the area where he is, revealing a construction similar to the eladrin towers you have explored in this sunken city. Hemah doesn't appear to be conscious, he mutters as if in a trance, though at least you can make out his words: "I understand, master. It shall be done."
He stands, and the darkness seems to completely fade from the room--revealing that it is the same room you now find yourself inside, though you are not present. It is devoid of all creatures but Hemah. The eladrin dreamer turns his head upwards, and faces the leyline, which glows ominously... and you realize that the strange voices you heard before seem to be coming from the leyline itself. In the midst of all the eldritch whispers, you hear a single, dark voice cut through, asking, "Do you desire power?"
The leyline glows until its light overwhelms your senses, and then the light gradually fades, until darkness is all that you can perceive. You hear the sounds of rock on rock as something stirs in the shadows. It mutters an incantation, and a small flame ignites at the end of a leather-gloved finger, providing illumination to this dark place.
"Cordelia..." a voice, belonging to the orc extracting himself, battered and bloodied, from the rubble, calls out. He stands, and you recognize him as the figure from before--Ragrim Dragonsworn. But this is not the cavern where he fell, for here there is open sky--yet the sky is gray, and filled with black clouds. The landscape here is jagged and empty, and odd shades of black and gray, yet seems to shimmer faintly. The only other signs of light other than the flame flicking at the end of the orc's finger are distant, orangish and yellow points of light that appear to be dozens of eyes in the distance.
"...this is not Toril," Ragrim declares softly, his eyes scanning the horizon and the blackened sky. "The plane of Shadow? But it's different, somehow--what is this place...?"
As if to answer, two ghoulish humanoids leap from hiding in piles of rock nearby, their gray skin easily blending into the landscape of this distant plane. Reflexively, Ragrim yells and swings his empty sword-arm in a clawing motion--and shadowy energy that seemed to seep from behind him lashes out, as if at his command, and slices through the undead assailants, completely obliterating them. Gasping in wonder, Ragrim turns behind him, from whence the energy came--and sees, just above the place where he found himself buried in rubble, a translucent membrane seeming to hold back swirling, chaotic energies, embedding into the side of a cliff face. Above it, reality seems to twist and distort itself, sucking in the sky.
Ragrim approaches the leyline cautiously...
Each of you suddenly snaps back to your senses. Sariel can feel that the ritual is now successfully cast, and silence returns to the chamber, except for the faint trickling of running water.
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