Quest II. The night the towers cried [open]

[Talen Stirling]

In times of chaos, of turmoil and of death people try to grasp a hold of something, anything to stay above the crashing tides before it drowns them. Even if they are only grasping at straws. Talen was in this regard no different from everyone else, and as he peeked out from his cover the first thing his eyes looked for was something familiar, a goal a person or a thing to focus on. Before, he had a purpose. He had to try and uphold peace, as he were to do at home, but now it was all chaos again. The shield around the disc was breaking, mysterious liquid was seeping from the corners and wounded, terrified and screaming people were huddling all across it. He had nothing to hold on to. It was all too much, too far beyond his capabilities. In the face of four opponents with only the aid of fools he had something to lean on, but now there were only hay straws and no branches to grasp at. Talen got up and slowly sheathed his sword, assuming the Ebonstryfe were not moving in his direction, and looked around at the people nearest to him. Perhaps if he started out with finding a few people, a few that he could talk to and help. Perhaps then he could get a hold of himself and afterwards things around him. His eyes first fell upon the two pretty red-headed, presumably Inartan women treating the Akalak's wound. Perhaps he should join up with them, or perhaps he should find the Ethaefal Cilaes? He took a step towards them as he looked all around quickly, but suddenly saw a woman approach the Ebonstryfe. Not just any woman, the beautiful one he had seen appear with her clothes in disarray shortly after first coming to this cursed disc. Should he try to help her? Could he even help her? His step towards the group of two and one wounded was halted and he stood nailed to the spot as he tried to find out who to go to, and why he would do it. I think I should inform everyone of this unfortunate turn of events.

[Hadrian]

His mouth set in a grim line as he sensed the sickening power of Rhysol flare up at the Black Sun's call and pass from him into that jolly green giant who had gotten a tour of Syliras out of Hadrian at the beginning of Summer. His first experience of gnosis had been that exhilarating, clean flash of Morwen's power when Kye had allowed him to observe with his newly won Auristic vision. Now his Sense went beyond any of the five with which he had been born, and he could almost feel a tremor of that darkness, that corruption, reach out and touch his own soul. If only that girl with the cursed dagger were here, he could assure her that the dark god had touched her weapon. Now he knew... But even Cassandra was showing her true colors, perhaps, running up to the Black Sun thugs to make peace with them. Amid the welter of auras and djed, he could not help but be struck by the Konti bearing a staff. He could sense the complexity of its design from where he crouched, and he could only hope that her relic would prove the match for whatever was shaking them with its tentacles, cracking the crystalline dome, and pouring in its poison. He up and ran toward her to aid her if possible, wondering if he couldn't create enough Shield energy to cement those cracks, and splatter it with a directed gust of aeromancy.

[Zlakalia]

Zlakalia merely observed the scene, obsorbed in her own tasks.

Her front row view of Nil'kayn's horrific hand transformation was interesting. THe wound itself wasn't red enough, seemed to rot rather than bleed. The random effects were odd, but again the mix of color was so unappealing, like his skin was vomiting rather than the lovely supple colors of red she wanted. So not nearly that interesting. She was pounding at nothing, her hands moving against the air like they were trying to redirect the flow of a stream. Furious little punches contained within the strange ice pouch she was contained in.

The rocking was more interesting. It seemed the crowd finally took notice when the tremors increased in their ferocity. People fell, people panicked, losing their footing. It seemed Miro kept his, therefore safe in her ice sling Kali had to do little to steady herself. But no sign of the tremors remained after the rocking, so even they could not hold her interest. Kali continued to work her shield, focusing more and more djed, trying to give it enough time to cover her body evenly, spread like blood down from a dripping wound.

The tentacle caught her eye, almost broke her concentration from the shield. Now THAT was very interesting! The giant red thing rose up, huge in size with indescribable patterns of black running across the surface. Kali wanted to look further, to study it. The red was so pretty... But she could not lose her concentration. She had to focus at least a little more.

The huge slam of the tentacle into the side of the wall was jarring, but Miro took the brunt of the force. Kali tuned it out, using the ice home to brace herself to keep her concentration on the shield. Still her hands scratched and clawed at her djed, still allowing the flow to even and form into a single entity. Kali at last allowed her hypnotism to reach into the shield, focusing on one of her more complex emotions to try and task the shield to any who were close enough and looked her way, any who would feel its effects.

Depression, raw and unfocused, soaked through from her mind. The feeling was unfamiliar, one she hardly liked to feel herself, but she tried to capture a bit of it. Just some kind of hopelessness, like she was feeling from this whole event. 'I Mean, the gods brought us here TO DIE. What's more hopeless than this?' Perhaps teh depression would calm down this angry souls, make them die a little faster than she. Give her a few more minutes to come up with a new plan. Perhaps.

Kali was lucky. The amount of time the men spent talking, the ground spent shaking, the tentacle spent rising, and the slam spent slamming had her finished with the basics of the shield as the red liquid began pouring from the roof. She knew her djed was wearing thin, and she was already feeling weary from teh casting. She wanted to do more than just encase herself in the anti-magic field and spread a little more sadness around the room. But her own strengths were tapped, she just couldn't go much further.

Now feeling more safe, Zlakalia merely observed the scene. Perhaps someone would observe her back, feel the dripping sadness from her tasked shield. Only the gods knew what was to become of them all now.

[Kamalia Timandre]

If Satu probed deeper into the layers of emotion in Kamalia’s heart, she would recognize that the reimancer neither despised nor followed the Goddess of Light. The Heartseer would learn that her friend spoke as if it were a matter of fact and not a matter of opinion.

Facing the globe that was Mizahar and holding the Pathfinder aloft, Kamalia concentrated, channeling djed through the cedar shaft of the staff. She had hoped that the Pathfinder would reveal to her some of the locations of the more powerful staves in Sagallius’ possession. Her focus was shattered when the disc shook beneath her feet. The Konti wizard staggered and swayed, dazed by the sudden violent quake, but remained standing as she leaned on her staff for support.

The moments that followed stole her breath—an enormous dark crimson mass swung out from the underside of the disc-shaped platform and pounded against the barrier. And then there came shrill whistling hisses from the three cracks the massive blood-red tentacle left behind. Kamalia’s blue-violet eyes widened in horror and realization: in mere chimes they would run out of air to breathe! The wizard rummaged her mind for a spell, and her brain engineered a dozen calculations, but she was interrupted by an alarming sight.

Dark red liquid started to trickle down the barrier into a bloody puddle. Kamalia slowly backed away from the edge, pointing her staff towards the aberration. A few paces backwards, and a young man with dark hair and eyes that shone with intelligence beyond his years came to her side. She gave him a long searching glance, before her head turned to face the sickening crimson pool again.

“Stand back,” the Konti said in a voice loud enough for him to hear yet too serene, as if she did not stand before danger. Her expression remained calm too, except for the eyes that burned with defiance. “It craves. It hungers.”

Kamalia wondered if she could produce enough res to redirect airflows and distribute air through circulation, or fill the cracks with ice to relieve pressure. She decided against the idea for now, however, as she might need her djed for something else. When they had stepped back to a safer distance, she stared at the man with the calmness common among Konti. “I must commune with my Mother. Please, let nothing touch me,” she pleaded melodically in a soft-accented Common. “I shall not be long,” she promised. Diviners normally took only a few breaths to seek what they were looking for.

She knelt on one knee, staff in one hand, while the other touched the tiled floor. Marshalling the discipline of her wizardly training, Kamalia closed her eyes and shut off the sounds of panic and chaos, to slip from the material world into the ocean of dreams, to seek out the chavi of the being who conjured this disc into existence and divine its secrets, all the while praying to Avalis with all her heart and all her devotion.

[Nil'kayn]

Agony. All he could feel was pain; pain overriding his senses, unable to scream, the pain blocked out all else all there existed was agony. He could faintly hear sounds in the background; he forced his mind to start working trying to figure out what had transpired. He forced his mind through the pain through pure willpower he started to remember and piece together what had transpired, and then it all came rushing back. The black clad people had lowered their weapons, there leaders had accepted his hand. Kayn had been surprised, but he guessed that maybe this man wasn’t as dangerous as he had first thought. The man’s handshake had been firm, and his smile broad, this reassuring his thought that danger wasn’t imminent. And then the pain had started he started to feel itching and pain coming from his right hand, glancing down he watched in horror as the metal rusted, leather shrivelled and fell of and then the flesh start to do the same. He watched in horror the pain and shock of what was happening taking over his mind. He fell to his knees, gripping his arm his head bent staring at his hand, his face blank as the pain took over. As he had forced his mind to remember he had been forcing the pain further and further down attempting to regain control of himself he gasped for breath, realising he had held his breath as the pain had taken over. He stared at his hand, realisation starting to take over. His hand was rotten. How? He remembered the black men and anger rose within him. He had been offering peace and he had been attacked for it. For that is what it was; an attack, maybe not a direct attack with a weapon, but an attack all the same. What was he suppose to do now? Would it ever heal? Would he ever be able to fight? His father had been crippled much later in his lifetime, and it had caused him to retire. Would he; barely beginning his career, have to retire? Would it spread? Could it spread up his arm? It didn't look to be doing it, but he needed a healer; now. He let out a low toned moan. A scary tone for those that heard, for many would not as chaos erupted around him. He glanced around slowly trying to understand the chaos, turning from his hand for the moment. It had only been a few moments he glanced around getting up slowly trying to understand what was happening. Chaos. He was still trying to piece it together and he became aware that someone was pulling on his arm he let himself get dragged away, still trying to piece together what had happened.

OOCSorry for taking so long, had some problems, Talen seems to have pointed that out.

[Riki Stormheart]

Riki nodded as he listened to Ariel speaking. He watched in horror as the events unfolded in front of him. The Akalak's wound, the tentacles, the red goo dripping from the ceiling. It worried him but he kept quiet, listening intently to the clay girl on his shoulder. "You told me and I heard you." His words were quiet and almost calm, although veins of discomfort would be heard weaving through his voice. "This is not good…" Although Ariel told him to keep his distance, Riki made his way over to the Akalak. "I know you want me to keep my distance but I have to help that man. It is my duty." He did not want to steer the Pycon into danger with him but he had to help. "You are more than willing to stay behind. I'll give you your things back if you want to go off on your own." Riki did not have a choice in the matter when it came to what he was about to do but Ariel did and he would not rob her of that. The Drykas pushed through the crowds toward the Akalak. When he arrived at his side he was surprised to see another healer at his side. He could sense she was only singularly marked like him but perhaps together they could help him. "Excuse me, you are marked by Rak'keli, yes?" Marked could sense others who shared their gnosis or he would not have been able to tell the red-haired woman was a healer like him. Riki's eyes turned to Nilkayn, a light smile forming on his lips. "We meet again Nilkayn." Riki had met Nilkayn for a short bit earlier in this strange turn of events. He tried to keep his eyes from the wound but the smell refused to escape him. This was by far the worst wound he had come into contact with. He turned to the Inarta and smiled. "I'm Riki Stormheart of Opal Clan, from Endrykas. We specialize in medicine. Maybe if we work together we can help Nilkayn." He hoped that the girl would except his help. That wound was not going to get better without a bit of joint effort.

[Aidara]

It was a huge relief when the big Akalak seemed to stop resisting and let her drag him along. Well, guide him along; there was no way that Addy could drag anything of Nil'kayn's size unless she was an ant. And then, it probably still wouldn't happen. She had just managed to push through the few bodies that had stopped all movement to stare unhelpfully at the large tentacle thing and it's effects on the barrier before things started to unravel; it was only a matter of time until people either started freaking out or trying to organize some kind of response. Addy was in the process of calming Sira down when another man appeared at her side. "Excuse me, you are marked by Rak'keli, yes?" Ahhh. The switch from the Nari she normally spoke to the rough-sounding Common made Addy's head hurt. But there was no time to dwell on that, just like there was no time to figure out how he had known that. While Riki could feel the draw towards the Inartan healer, Addy just had so much stuff going on in her head, it was no wonder that she missed the similar pull toward the Drykas. In her extreme separation from her twin, Addy's empathetic bond with Sairque was strained if not broken; this left the woman feeling not only emotionally drained but also emotionally halved, as if she could only slightly feel an effect from what was going on. Her head knew how to react to the situation, and it was the only thing that was keeping her from a total freak out. On top of that, Addy was being flooded with images and emotions from Sira as well, though the Kelvic wasn't aware that she was doing so in her panic. Needless to say, it was hard for Addy to tell what was really her and her feelings, and what was her sister or bondmate. She never would have found Riki if he hadn't initiated the conversation. "Yes, yes I am. But only singly. I can't... I don't think I can do this." She was out of breath after her struggle with Nil'kayn and was finding it hard to formulate the words she wanted. Dropping Nil'kayn's arm, Addy bent double while she took deep breathes, her hands on her knees. "Yes, we should work together. It might work that way. I assume you are singly marked as well? Otherwise I don't think you'd be asking for my help." Straightening, Addy looked Riki directly in the eyes. "I'll be honest. I've never healed with another before, nor have I had any direction in using my gifts; I was born with the mark, and have kind of made everything up as I go along." Green eyes tossed an appraising glance along the mans form. "I don't know how to describe how I do it, or if you need to know how I do it...But I kind of just....throw myself into them and let my gift find what is wrong, and... and fix it that way." Finishing lamely, Addy threw her hands up in a show of confusion. "I don't even know where to start with him. I've never seen a wound like this before. Bear attacks, snake attacks, archery accidents, broken bones, bruises... That is really the extent of what I see." Not liking how useless or unsure she felt, Addy took a step closer to Riki, reaching out for his hand and taking it firmly, unaware that this stranger of another race might not appreciate the close physical contact that the Inartan's were used to sharing. "Whatever it is we need to do, We can do it. I can do it, even if we have to make it up as we go along. Just tell me, what do you need to do to get ready? We need to do this soon, or it won't make a difference." There was a pause, and a little flair of her old, flirty self came back. Dimples blossomed in both her cheeks and she inclined her head to him, dropping into an imaginary curtsy. "How rude of me. I am Endal Aidara of Wind Reach, Addy if it please you. It's a pleasure, Riki Stormheart of the Opal Clan. A hand reached out and pulled Sira closer to her side, whom she held close to her side while setting off a somewhat silly pose. "And this is Endal Sira, my bondmate. We make a pretty pair, do we not?" It was just like the woman to try and disperse the gravity of the situation by adding a little humor, or trying to eek out a smile.

[Nil'kayn]

Kayn glanced around as he was led by the woman, his attention was darting from one thing to the next his mind working at an incredible pace trying to catch up to the situation. He saw the cracks in the ceiling wondering what the cause was, he watched the dark red liquid leek in through the cracks pooling on the edge of the disc causing hysteria. He had no clue why the cracks had appeared or what was seeping through, but he didn’t want to find out. Had his horn caused the cracks to appear? Had whoever decided to summon them here decided to kill them? He hoped against hope that his stupidity didn’t cause all this. It sure as hell caused the black clothed men to focus on him, he continued to curse his own stupidity. Nil was right, he was an idiot, this must have been his fault; all of it. What if everyone died here? Would it be his fault? Yes. Is there any way to save them? No thoughts came to mind; they were stuck in an unknown place and facing an unknown enemy. He continued to torture himself mentally. Nil was panicking he was quite overwhelmed, he was just hysterical babbling nonsense into their head, Kayn ignored him taking note of the man who had decided to stand with him, standing in the middle of the floor glancing at him and something else back and forth. The weasel of a man who had wanted to rob there corpses was dragging someone across the floor, he turned his head as he caught site of the woman standing near the black clothed group, seeming trying to commune with them. She was either more afraid of what was happening or addled; had she not seen what had happened to Kayn’s hand? That thought caused him to jolt back into the present, as Riki appeared at his side speaking to the woman who had led him away. He blinked glancing around inspecting the people around him. He had briefly met Riki before, but the two woman to his side where those who had sided with him, one seemed to look very odd with a much enlarged belly. His eyes widened in realisation that she was pregnant. Kayn smiled grimly, when he spoke to Riki the mental and physical pain showing on his face. “Hello Riki.” He blinked not completely understanding there conversation about marks,“Rak’keli”, and healing; the confusion was evident on his face, but he stayed quite. Kayn admired a person who could smile in the face of death, for that is what they were all facing. In most cases he tended to be optimistic and look on the bright side, but in this darkness he could see not light, plus the fact of his hand, and the fact he may have caused there doom weighed his heart down, causing a pained look to come over his face. He closed his eyes attempting to regain control of both emotional and physical pain. He opened his eyes the agonised look still on his face, he said gasping through the pain. “Hello…Aidara...Sira.” He nodded to each, he had surmised that Endal must be a title of some kind from the way she said it, and also the fact they both had it. “Thank..you.” He glanced at his hand again hopelessness overcoming him again, he was tempted to tell them not to try and to save themselves, but…he couldn’t help host the thought that they might be able to help his hand, and they might get out of this. But that thought was one small spark in a well of darkness. He had heard of the goddess of hope, and in this moment of hopelessness he felt that he truly needed hope. He prayed that she would give him hope and help them through this, he prayed to each god he had ever heard off, each asking for their help, letting the healers to do their work.

[Sira]

Sira had never felt so lost before. She was always on top of things and always in control. Sira didn't panic, she didn't get scared, and she always had a plan or at least some sort of idea of what she should be doing. But this.. this was different. There she was on some strange disk the gods only knew how far from Mount Skyinarta, and she didn't have a clue what to do. The people panicking, the dark men, the tall man's hand, none of that would have caused her to break down. it was the knowledge that no matter what they did, even if the tentacles returned and they fought them off, there was no hope of surviving. Sira's eagle eyes could almost see the air being sucked out, and while she was no doctor she was pretty sure most people needed air to survive. Then there was the ice. It was cold outside the disk and even if somehow they could survive without air they would still freeze to death. They were doomed... Sira only half noticed as the other man walked up. It was a testament to Addy's own strength that the emotions coming across her bond with Sira did not cripple her. Sira's hope was lost, she couldn't stop thinking of what would happen when the air ran out. Slowly her mind began to ask questions. Why were they here, and what was the reason for all of this? Had Ivak finally escaped? Was Wind Reach now nothing more than a crater? But.. if Ivak had escaped.. then why would he bring them to some other place to kill them and not just do it in Mizahar? Sira could understand possibly taking a wind eagle like herself, and even Addy who was Inarta, but why all these other people? Ivak might want revenge on the Wind Eagles who kept him, and the Inarta who unknowingly helped, but what reason did he have for taking everyone else? It couldn't have been Ivak, so who brought them there and why? There must have been a reason. Hope. Even the tiniest spark could ignite a blazing fire in a person's soul, and that is what happened to Sira then. The were there, the had to be. And though she didn't know what that reason was it had to be true, nothing else made sense. They had been brought there for a purpose, and though she didn't know the purpose Sira knew that panicking would not serve it. She latched on to the idea, and the spark grew into a small fire warming Sira's heart. Slowly she became aware of what was happening around her and her eyes darted about trying to assess the situation. It was dire, but not everyone had given up hope. As long as they kept fighting to the end then there might still be a chance. Sira's eyes fixated on Addy and the other healer and the small fire burst into a full blaze. She couldn't do anything about the air, but she could at least do what was right and make sure the Akalak was healed. Sira placed her hand on Aidara's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "Heal him. You can do it, Addy. With his help I know you can do it. I'll make sure nobody interrupts you." Sira turned to face the chaos. Methodically she began to prepare herself. First Sira knelt and unlaced her boots, tossing them aside. Then she stood and removed her belt, drawing her sword before tossing the belt and scabbard aside. She removed her katinu and scarf next, again tossing them aside. Sira would have continued to undress but she realized that might just draw more attention to her. Even so, she was ready to shift if need be. Her vinati and bryda would easily rip when shifted, but some of her other clothes may have harmed her. She wouldn't shift yet because again that would draw unwanted attention to the small group, but Sira did stand guard ready to protect the healers while they worked if need be. Silently she whispered a prayer to Priskil and then she waited, her heart strong with Priskil's hope, and she knew that should she might die at least she would die with purpose.

[Tarot]

The surface of the disc was chaos. Between fallen people, screaming people, panicking people and violent people, the situation here was soon to become a textbook example of mass hysteria. Everyone was out for their own survival first and foremost, only there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. In the chimes that followed, four more people would die, crushed under the boots of their terrorized peers as they moved from one end of their cage to the other with no clear goal in mind. There were but few islands of serenity around the adventurers who managed to keep their wits around them; and of course, around the terrible quartet of Rhysol worshippers no-one in their right minds would dare approach. Except Cassandra, of course. It was in those frantic moments that the gift of Sagallius worked best, and indeed the victim often did not realize they were being controlled at all. Pushed by Satu's will, Cassandra found herself face to face with the leader of the Black Sun party, who was almost surprised to see someone like her stand right in front of him. Meanwhile, others were assessing the damage. Bob, just to name one, had shielded himself with the beggar's body. The man seemed totally unresponsive now. It would take a little checkup to see if he was even still alive. Poor beggar, he'd never be called by his own name on these pages, even though he had one. Darik was indulging far darker tendencies than Bob's. He picked out a young man with reasonably decent clothes who looked to be at least half-dead. He'd been trampled by a crowd of panicked people and simply left there. Darik dragged him to a quiet spot and began rummaging through his possessions. It turned out the guy wasn't so dead after all, and by the time he began to stir, Darik simply slit his throat. Simple solutions are oft the best, yet they beget difficult problems. Had someone seen him? And if they had, did they care enough to do something about it? Blood gushed all over the victim's clothes. For his murderous efforts, Darik got twenty-three golden Mizas, a shortsword, a pouch filled with some herbs and a pair of nice new shoes. More than a human life's average worth on Mizahar, for sure. The Black Sun man tilted his head at Cassandra's speech. The only woman in the foursome gave a gruff laughter and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt. She had very little of the feminine about her, and her nose had been broken several times. "You sound like your head just got bonked, whore. Either that or you can't think clearly when you're standing. What that thing reacted to has nothing to do with us. It was the green genius' fault for blowing that horn like you do our Acolytes." The leader gestured for the woman to release Cassandra. "Leave her, Tatishka. I have an idea to put her to some use, after all." Around them, efforts to heal Nil'kayn began. Although Riki and Aidara were but single-marked devotees of Rak'keli, they were this group could spare for the Akalak. As they began to direct their energies towards the wound under Sira's watchful gaze, they felt the chaotic energies of Rhysol deep in the tissues. It was darker than anything they'd ever dealt with, and at first their efforts simply bounced back, barely making a dent in the damage done. Upon trying over and over again, however, they found that it could probably be done, but the price would be steep in terms of energies spent. Rak'keli's gift needed to be pushed to the extreme by the both of them at the same time, and even so, it was likely that Nil'kayn would only receive temporary relief. He may need a better healer later on, but if they didn't help him now, there would be no hand for him to get healed. What Sira, Ariel and Zlakalia saw was one of the strange reddish pools slowly oozing their way towards Nil'kayin. Of course, Riki and Aidara were much too occupied to notice. It could have been logical - a fluid simply moving down driven by gravity - but another pool on the other side of the disc was likewise expanding towards the center, thereby ruling out that possibility. Tiny lines swirled across the dull surface, still penning letters in scripts none could comprehend. Zlakalia, who was doing nothing but hold her Shield up and watch, also felt the vibrations on the increase once more. Ariel felt that clearly, too. Considering what had happened the last time, it may be wise to give it some more attention. Talen, still undecided on what to do next, was watching the exchange between Cassandra and the Black Sun. He noticed something almost randomly as he stopped walking. Whenever he walked towards the cracks in the barrier, he somehow felt... lighter. Conversely, when he stepped farther away, he felt just a little heavier, and so did his equipment: closer to normal, that is. He estimated that if he moved right below the damaged spots, he would weigh about half his usual. Hadrian's academic mind also noticed the same thing, and who knows what conclusions he may draw from that? While he approached Kamalia and formulated plans to fix the damage - something that may become very urgent very fast - he also noticed the symbols on the tiled floor glow slightly when they previously hadn't been. Niapret didn't really notice the absence of weight as she flew towards the cracks with a little clay she'd managed to snatch from someone who'd just been holding it out in a half-dazed stupor. Maybe someone who had a Pycon friend and happened to have a little snack on hand. Regardless, there was only enough clay to plug the smallest crack, which the Akvatari did promptly, albeit with some difficulty. It was really, really cold near the crack, and the pull was very strong. This was obviously but a desperate way to stall for more time, but still more than most other people had done thus far. Kamalia, oh, Kamalia. Don't you know how dangerous it is for you to delve in your inner world? Whenever you look inward, the Other One is also there, lurking. And it always began with a low whisper along the lines of 'You need me... let me out...' Kamalia had learned to feel it coming by now, and she ignored it, most of the time at least. Pleading the goddess Avalis for answers, the Konti was rewarded with a flash of awareness replacing the dreadful insides of the sky dome. The woman stood right behind her shoulder, and Kamalia felt she could not turn to see her, because she would be undone by her sheer power and greatness. Avalis, unseen by her eyes but filling her consciousness, stood close. The scent of lilies invaded her nostrils like a drug. In some cultures, prophets were also raving madmen and women. It was not difficult to see how they may turn that way. The goddess whispered in Kamalia's ear. "Its name is Ravarisk. It is the last of its kind. They chased it to the edge of the lands... they chased it through the vast oceans. And when it had no place to hide, it took to the skies." Kamalia saw flashes of a proud, giant wormlike vermillion creature, fluid and filled with sentience. "It is dying now. It has no purpose left but to breed, and this place's energy draws it like a moth is drawn to the flame. I can't show you how this place came to be, my child. You would go mad with the power of such a sight. You have to..." Avalis' voice began to fade, being replaced by static and emptiness. Kamalia had reached the limit of her first mark's ability for now... just when she needed it the most. Pathfinder still turned casually in her fist, but it was hard to say where it was pointing. "You don't want us to kill anyone?" the Black Sun man smirked at Cassandra, "That's fine. In return, you'll bring us some of that stuff over there." He pointed at one of the growing pools of tentacle-stuff. Rhysol's men were ever obsessed with mystical creatures to collect and take to their lord. There were handsome rewards for gathering the exotic and unique: and plenty of guinea pigs like Cassandra to do so without taking any personal risk. Life was good under Rhysol.