Dreams of the Second Age - Additional IC

Araneus


Araneus also walks up and offers some of his energy with a blast of energy, as his own anima begins to flare behind him, creepy black spider legs flaring out and wiggling behind him in a spray of violet energy.

Offering up seven motes
 
With everyone making their donation of Essence, the door finally opens up with a loud click and a puff of dust. The air inside smells quite foul, but it is clearing up quickly. The next chamber is large, nearly a hundred feet long by fifty feet wide with a ceiling of thirty feet high. It is well lit by arcs of Essence lightning that seem to arc from side to side with no obvious pattern. Anyone walking into the chamber is going to run the risk of getting fried by the arcing energy before you get to the door on the far wall.
 
Araneus


Araneus looks at the arc of lightning and tries to discern whether or not there's a way to shut it off from the other side, pulling out his monocle and squinting through it as he examines the room beyond, brushing away a spider leg and grinning "If there's a way to shut it off, I think I can get through, though it will take a lot out of me."

Rolling to look for a switch or anything that might shut it off


[dice]5747[/dice]
 
On the far wall, there is a concealed pannel that has controls that will most likely shut off the energy arcs.
 
"If you must make an attempt to cross over, please allow me to call forth more minions of the Eyeless Face, so they might absorb some of the lighting strikes that might hit you." Offered Rine.
 
Araneus


Araneus shakes his head, "That won't be necessary." before he moves back a few meters, and then starts running, his feet moving swiftly as he moves into what almost seems to be a dance, ducking and dodging the arcs of lightning as they fly across the room, avoiding them with the fleetness of someone who has the hells of Malfeas on their tail. It's almost as though he's vanishing and appearing in one spot to the next as he Ducks Fate and avoids having ever been hit by the bolts as he shoots across the room, and finally appears, hands on knees, panting and looking exhausted, near the other door.

Using Duck Fate to avoid the hazards of the room:


[dice]5748[/dice]
 
Through the power of your Charm, Araneus manages to dodge multiple bolts of Essence as it arcs across the room. Finally, you reach the other end of the chamber, and you are at the control panel. In order for you to deactivate the lightning field, you will have to expose yourself to the effects of the blasts for at least one action. You have a feeling that once you touch the controls, you'll be targeted by the lightning.
 
Araneus


Araneus shouts back "This could be painful. Or ecstatic. Who knows?" and then steels himself and starts the process of deactivating the trap.
 
The Underways





As Araneus begins the process of powering down the Essence discharges, the whole room lights up as the flashing bolts suddenly steer across the room and slam into the back of the Sidereal as he manipulates the controls. The explosion of Essence is so bright that it temporarily blinds anyone looking into the room. As the spots slowly fade from your eyes, there is no sign of what has happened to the man. He is simply gone. But now, the way is clear for the rest of you to proceed into the chamber to the next doorway.


En route to the Shadowland





Aredin and Shadow fly farther East heading towards the small Shadowland that the Mistress of Tears claims as her own. As you fly, you learn that this particular Shadowland is fairly small, and unlike some of the other Deathlords, the Mistress does not feel it necessary to flex her might in Creation. "Her domain is small compared to some of her contemporaries, but do not underestimate her power." Shadow goes on to tell you that there are a total of three Abyssals that serve the Mistress, along with several Dragon Blooded that have turned to the Underworld as the source of their power. She gives you the impression that she is quite curious to know why her master is so interested in you, but is uncertain how to breach that topic with you.


Approaching Chang-Dav





Wren climbs off the small riverboat after spending the past week on the rickety boat to get here. She looks over at her traveling companion with some trepidation. "This town looks like the Glittering Jewel of the East, and I must thank you for the opportunity to enjoy this glorious event. In case you couldn't tell, that was sarcasm. Are you sure you have to go here? From all the maps that I know of, there's nothing out here but trees." The docks are in dismal shape, with a lovely smell of dead fish and swamp gas. From here, you have two different choices to get to Rathess; either by river to a short land trip, or completely overland. If you take the river route, you run the risk of drawing attention to yourselves from the local Imperial garrison of troops.
 
Mask


Mask steps out of the boat and stretches, getting his land legs again and squinting his eyes to take a look around the docks. "You know why we're here, Pyter was pretty explicit in his message, even if it was meant for my eyes only. Though you know I can't keep secrets from you, as much as I try. Besides, Ithicas was pretty damn sure this was going to be worth our time. Sometimes I want to slap him in the face, but sometimes I want to hug him for all he's done for us."


He wrinkles his nose at the stench of the docks and shrugs. "It'll be a little more treacherous, but I know where we're going particularly if we're going by boat, but I have a good idea if we want to walk. Unless you know some magic trick to fly and carry us both."
 
After looking about to make sure that no one is listening, she lets out a sigh. "I have a large flying form that can fly us both out there. Just don't get used to using me as a riding animal. The only reason I'm doing this is to get us there fast. Do we need any supplies before we go?"
 
Mask


"As long as you're ok with me directing where to go. I'm sure we could do with making sure we've got food, I'm not one hundred on how long it takes to get there, I just know what direction and what to look for." He grins again and then frowns when he looks at her, "Oh come on, you know I'm not gonna turn you into a mount. Besides, best friends are for fun, but not that kind of fun."
 
Aredin


Aredin sighed as he was led by the Abyssal, "Here we go again with that whole 'don't underestimate the so-and-so' again. If I had shekel for every time that was said about us back in the day..." Aredin shuffled his hand through his pocket to grab his flute then chuckled, "Oh wait, I do. Funny that. Anyhow, you people are constantly ruining my fun. How can I let my ego and whimsical spurts of extroversion flourish if I keep having to listen to you all be such downers. Speaking of downers, let's talk about Death Lords for a moment. My guess is they don't really take to the whole team sport thing do they?" Aredin mused, trying to distract his escort from prying. Afterward, he seemed a tad troubled by how quickly he had settled into his casual speaking pattern with this stranger but continued with a mental shrug at the thought.
 
Shadow lets out a chuckle. "No, the Deathlords are not what you call team players. There have been many wars waged in the Underworld between different factions of Deathlords. There is an ever changing soap opera of alliances being broken and reformed for the temporary good of each other. The only one of the dark lords that doesn't seem to give a damn about making alliances with others is First and Forsaken Lion, the most powerful of all the Deathlords. His army numbers well over a million, and it is only the fact that there is not a sizable Shadowland for him to use has kept him from invading Creation."
 
Aredin


Aredin let's the silence sit for a moment before deciding to make the jab, "All those assets and not even enough ambition to put them to actual work. That's an interesting precedent. Though I'm curious about these alliances. Judging from her domain, it doesn't sound like the Mistress is too keen on it either. Perhaps... she's ruffled some feathers even?" Aredin paused to take a drink, "Man...it still, it bothers me that I can't recognize her. Hm... are we there yet or should I keep making subtle ploys to subjugate your consciousness with mindless prattle?"
 
"We should be there shortly. Then you can spring some of these inventive questions on my Mistress. Until then, you can use whatever mindless prattle you care to choose."
 
Aredin


"Excellent, I always wanted to vent off the guilt from that one time in the north when we were sledding. As with every good sport, it started with a bunch of us on the backs of Tyrant Lizards. Now I know that sounds horribly boring and cliche, but this isn't about entertainment right now. Anyways... see, I was sledding the Tyrant Lizard down the frozen Behemoth's tusks, as you do when you start warming up, but all of the sudden, the damn thing opened up into a yawn. Launched us about five miles past the mountain range and into a barbarian encampment. Sadly, the impact killed at least 4 old folks, destroyed 2 and a half houses, and contaminated the drinking water with lizard blood, which smells absolutely gag inducing let me tell you." Aredin would continue for several moments, giving vague, random, and generally comical re-tellings of deliberative pass-times that eventually became banned shortly before the usurpation due to the inevitable lapses in safety protocol.
 
Shadow is quiet as she listens to you, then she slowly looks over. "Are you trying to make fun of me, or are you like this all the time? Not that it matters to me. I was just curious." At this point, she point out the front of the transport to a distant structure.


1405199411393_zps158417fd.jpg



"There. Our destination, the Holdfast of the Mistress of Tears."
 
"I must say, I have to applaud the geomantic arrangement of this place. Much more aesthetic than I was expecting...Well, now that you've endured my little hazing ritual, you can go ahead and ask what you were wanting to ask before. Not like we have much time left to hang around."
 
Aredin





Shadow looks over at you as you steer the transport, and finally seems to come to a decision. "How is it that the Mistress seems to know you? She has expressed an interest in Rathess for centuries; seeming to be searching the city for something, and now you arrive, seemingly out of nowhere, and you are extended a very rare audience with her. What is your secret?"


The Underways





Pyter runs forward to where the bolts of Essence slammed into his fellow Sidereal, kneeling down on the ground. "I don't know what happened. It is possible that he is still alive, just somewhere else. There doesn't seem to be enough . . . debris . . . here to indicate a body being destroyed, unless the blasts that hit him were much more powerful than I thought was possible." He looks over at the others of the Circle, tears in his eyes. "I pray that if he is gone, that it was painless. To have gone so long in the service of the Maidens to end this way . . ." He shakes his head. "Let us go onwards. Otherwise his sacrifice is for nothing."


Chaing-Dav





As you wander through the streets, Wren takes it upon herself to stock up on some supplies that might be needed in the next few days. She looks over at Mask at one point and asks, "Is there some way for you to get in contact with this Sidereal we are going to help? I like to know what I'm getting into, and better yet, the fastest way out of there when things go bad. What does the letter say again?"
 
Mask


"Not unless he sent me a way in the letter, or you know how to send some kind of message." He continues along with her and gathers up anything he thinks they might need as well, all while eating an apple and humming softly. He pulls out the letter and looks it over again before handing it to her. "You can read it if you want, no secrets in it as far as I know."
 
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