The Way Home is Through
Log Info
- Title: The Way Home is Through
- Emitter: Solar Flare
- Characters: Delilah, Donna, Ashes, Elyanna, Sirri, Illiria
- Place: Alexandria: Sewers
- Time: Monday, May 09, 2022, 8:10 PM
- Summary: The Iron King is dead, leaving the Valethor gang with a quandary: how to get out of the sewers. First, Arreth must be returned to Tessa. The psychopomp congratulates the gang on their efforts, and sending a few very lost souls to Vardama. She re-assures them it will be a long time before they see her again, although she may pop in to listen to Elyanna from time to time. Sirri is quizzed for an exit, and is uncertain, while Illiria is not. She can smell the sea on the other side of a wall. Ashes empowers Donna, and she, along with Elyanna's musical finishing composition, blast the brikes to pieces and they are able to get down to the sea. The remains of the Iron King are dragged along, and Illiria's family and friends are there, glad the group has finished the Fisherman and willing to swim them home. Everyone accepts, and Ashes realizes that Alexandria does feel like home for her.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Delilah 5'4" 106 Lb Human Female A golden haired human girl in white robes. Donna 5'4" 106 Lb Human Female A black-haired human girl in black robes. Ashes 5'11" 177 Lb Hobgoblin Female A somber arvec in grey clothes with a skull face. Elyanna 5'11" 153 Lb Half-Orc Female A grim, Arvek-blooded woman in raven feathers. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= NPCs of Note =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Sirri Gnome Female Leader of the expedition Illiria Merfolk Female A damselfish in distress, Cleric. Alvin Male Human The young hostage of Veren. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Solar Flare -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
The Iron King is dead. He lays broken at the feet of Ashes, and the mighty blade Arreth.
With the illusions presenting the room as Charn, the sewer surroundings have returned; and now what remains is the journey back to the surface. A daunting task, perhaps.
Alvin clings to Donna, the one who scooped him up during his pained wailing. He's crying still, but there's a sense of relief about him; the displacer beasts are gone, the Iron King is gone, the illusions are gone, and he doesn't have to stay in a room with a massive giant spider outside (albeit a dead one) anymore.
"I wanna go home," wails the child. "Please. I want my mama. I wanna go home. Please."
"We'll get you there, buddy," Donna says, gently patting Alvin's back. "We got a little farther to go, then we can get home. I know it's scary down here, but I can promise you we'll take you *right* to your mama after. I even know where she is, an' she's safe."
Pausing, she turns to look at Sirri, eyebrow rising. "...Really, *really* hopin' as you know where to go from here."
The transition back to the proper realities of the chamber jar the red woman less now than they would have in weeks past.
The twists of this endeavor have been amongst the strangest she'd known since she'd come to Alexandria, and it's had a somewhat balming effect to that end.
She shifts her grip on Illiria, looking to her with some uncertainty as she borrows out the big guns, "There, there.... everything will be alright."
With her indication of seascent, her brow perks, and she looks to her friends, "Follow our noses? If it lets out near the bay, we should be able to find our way back easily enough, no?"
There is another, slightly different look of uncertainty as she regards Ashlee, "His head... may need to come with us, unless some form of correspondence remains, here."
Alive, he was another type of monster, but post judgement, he's another of the Dead, and she recognizes her friend has... feelings about such matters.
Ashlee Ciaradh takes a moment to breathe, inhaling deeply, exhaling. She holds Arreth with its tip resting in the sole of her cavalry boot, out front of the toe-cap. Her head pans as she examines the room, the illusions dropped to reveal a different, less hypocritical set of sewers.
"You can't go home." The Mourner says, her voice flat and even, "Once something terrible has happened life is never the same." A true statement, better for a hobgoblin youth than a human one, but still something best not shared. That thought comes to her after she speaks, or maybe Chippen told her.
"We'll get you back to your mama. We'll keep you safe." Much like her red-skinned kin, she looks towards Sirri, "I can locate a sewer access cover, but I didn't prepare a pathfinding spell. I don't think the way we came is an option."
"As much of the remains as possible should come with us." She advises, "I didn't prepare reduce corpse either."
And thus, each person's burden is allotted.
"Well..." Sirri offers the last remaining butter tart up to Alvin once more, who finally takes it; and after a tiny nibble from it, he looks down at the gnome, wipes his free hand over his eyes, and mumbles a soft "Thank you."
Sirri positively beams up at the child, before going for a quick walk around the room. "Uhm... I've never actually been here," she admits. "I knew how to get to the Cistern, at least I did before that goblin decided to blow up half the sewers, but I'm not sure..." She pauses, biting her bottom lip. "There's always ways up. The sewers were built with the idea that anyone in 'em would eventually want to leave, and not stay down here and, y'know, live in poop. So--"
"That way," interjects Illiria, pointing towards the far wall (which is just a wall). "Through there. Through the crumbling stone edifice that stands in our way... I can smell the sea on the other side."
Behind Ashes, there stands a presence; Tessa has returned, and is standing behind the Mourner's right shoulder. "Not bad," she comments, looking down at the ruin of the Iron King. "That's two who ought to have been dead for a long time but weren't that we can chalk up to the lot of you. And you've managed to rescue innocent souls while you were at it both times. You're all really quite something."
"Thanks." Ashlee says, her words still without emotion but her large goblinoid ears flick and curl, hinting at some embarrassment. She's not sure how to receive a compliment from a psychopomp.
The Mourner turns, using both hands to lift and hold Arreth out towards Tessa, "Arreth helped a lot." Her own silvered khopesh pales in comparison; one day.
"I have Bull's Strength, Enlarge Person, and Blood Crow Strike, Donna, if you want to use them to bash down the wall." She suggests. It's hard to tell with her skull face, the way teeth are superimposed on her lips, but the edges of her mouth might have curled.
The von Diesel scion turns to te sound of Tessa's voice and she bows her head in respect to their guide in the beyond... and one who has very much been invested in their quest.
"Thank you." she replies humbly.
There is a considered, vaguely quizzical look thrown to Illiria for a moment, then back to the psychopomp, half wondering if those outside the Valenthor gang can properly see her, then, "My Chords of Shards may be of some aid, though, I have never tried using them against stone."
Another glance is spared Sirri and Alvin, both, but she isn't sure who should handle the introductions.
With most of her focus on Alvin, and then the wall, Tessa earns a glance and a slow, fond nod. "Happy to help," she says sincerely. ...And then Ashes voices her suggestion. "...Hey Alvin," Donna says after a moment's thought. "Since we're in a hurry so's we can get you back to yer mama... Wanna see somethin' cool? Here... Have a sit an' watch, Auntie Ash's gonna do some awesome magic." With that, she carefully sets the boy down next to Sirri. "Keep an eye on 'im for me, willya?"
Putting herself a few paces away from the indicated wall, Donna stretches her neck to one side, then the other, eliciting a few pops each time. "Okay, Ash... Hit me. I got this."
GAME: Ashes casts Enlarge Person. Caster Level: 13 DC: 15 GAME: Ashes casts Bull's Strength. Caster Level: 13 DC: 16 GAME: Ashes casts Blood Crow Strike. Caster Level: 13 DC: 18
"You'll want to see this too." Ashlee tells Tessa, relinquishing Arreth. Then, as requested, she 'hits' Donna. "Feiu of the Tears, make Donna an instrument of your will. Bigger. Stronger. Faster."
The cold embrace of Vardama surrounds the brawler, an ethereal and endless power, that of the Grey Halls. She is infused, her muscles bulging, her form towering, and her fists empowered to strike wherever she pleases.
This was a tough battle, a painful battle. Even though she doesn't express it, Ashes felt some frustration at her bad luck, her choices, and the failure which loomed so close. Arreth was amazing to wield; The blade is not hers to keep. Seeing Donna unleash will wipe away any lingering feelings of inadequacy.
Tessa spoke truely, all together, they are something.
And Donna is bigger. Musclier. *More.* Her hands wreathed in bloody-black flames, and as she takes a deep breath... Her normal pale-blue magical powerup takes on the same color, a heatless *burst* of flame twisting out from her core. "HAAAAAAAAA~!" She yells, setting her feet, and then... begins to punch the air.
But with every punch, fire licks out to splash against the wall, negative-energy withering away the slimy life that had taken root in the space between brick and crumbled mortar. Every hurled punch is aimed at a different spot on the indicated wall, and the magical flames slowly begin to cook the brick and metalwork, sending up acrid wisps of white smoke, causing the metal reinforcements to glow cherry-red, then sunny yellow, as the bricks blacken, then grow ashen white at the edges, glowing dully from within.
In the end, the giant, blazing brawler spends only twenty seconds on the wall, before the last dregs of her fury drains away, and she has only Ashes' magic supporting her leaden limbs.
But in twenty seconds, she has transformed a sturdy wall into a creaking, popping ruin, that only needs one good push to destroy.
It has a nice beat, and you can bash to it...
Still feeling extra invigorated in the wake of her... enforced mid scrap nap, Elyanna draws in a deeper breath as the castings begin, and she starts to growl... groan... croon into one of her 'inspirationals'.
"The fire burns within you." she begins, trying to match the tempo of Donna's flurrious fists, doing interesting half-octave shifts.
"Dispelling the doubts that plague, too..." this coming with a slightly more optimistic tone as Donna's fists, and Ashes's blessings assail the stone that constrains their journey.
To the thundering crow--infused beat, she continues, "xDo not relent, our hearts say..."
Stone shudders, bricks splinter and mortar flakes, "No fetters.."
Her fingers twitch into simple gestures and tap against Illiria's side, "will stay in our..."
As Donna's assault draws to it's close, Elyanna's lungs draw further, expanding with all the subtle tricks of the bardly body control between notes on the off chance, a chance that came up, that just that little bit more would be required.
She exhales a fierce note, one that manifests in the air as a curio of melodic potential, crystalized into a more... destructive form that hurtles toward the bealeaguered structure in accompaniment to her triumphant, "WAY!" that serves, if only just, to bring the proverbial house down. <goblin-talk>
The wall tumbles down at last, in a shower of bricks, mortar, and debris. Alvin covers his ears; Sirri watches with her hands on her hips, like a proud foreman watching her crew get something done in style. Illiria, for her part, just smiles.
As the wall bricks stop rattling across the floor and the dust settles, the way beyond the wall becomes clearer. A cavern, narrow but passable, stretches onwards. The walls of rough stone are damp and a bit odorous, but it is a natural smell, not the rank unpleasantness of the sewers; and all is overgrown with vines, sporting softly glowing flowers of various hue, all tended to be ghostly looking grey bees.
"Not far, now," Illiria whispers. "Down that passageway... you will find the sea. My people are waiting for us."
"Alright then," Sirri pronounces, "My advice is that we..." She looks over her shoulder, "Listen to Miss Illiria's expert direction-finding."
As the Gnome goes marching off, eager to enter the tunnel but drawing up short to let one of the big people go first, Tessa resheathes Arreth on her back. "Well," she breathes, "I suspect this is the last time I'll see all of you, for quite a long time. *Very* long, I do hope, for all of you." She clasps her hands behind her back. "I believe you can all relax. There is nothing dangerous between here and Delilah. Very well done." She pauses, resting a hand on Ashes' shoulder. "It was never about success or failure, or luck, or spells," she murmurs. "You wielded Arreth because you were worthy. That's not something you can come up with in the moment. Worthy is the result of a lifetime of choices. And... Arreth is not the only holy sword."
With that, the Psychopomp turns, and offers a wink towards Elyanna. "Keep singing. I'll be by to listen from time to time, even Psychopomps can use inspiration from time to time. We get to feeling blue sometimes as well. And, Donna," she turns towards the Brawler, "I can't promise anything, but you and yoru friends have changed fate. Odds are pretty solid that when you next see me again, it'll be you and Delilah an' me having a little chat all on the same day. So be good until then, right?" She grins mischievously, "But not *too* good. Ta-ta."
Tessa fades from view, sword and all; leaving nothing behind but the way into the tunnel.
GAME: Ashes casts Fly. Caster Level: 13 DC: 17
Mourner Ashlee Ciaradh listens intently as the servant of her goddess speaks. She likes the psychopomp; it's her professional end goal, and Tessa has been wonderful to encounter. She both regrets, and doesn't that it will be a long time before she sees her again. The advice is noted, for each of them. She'll record it back at the temple for the other clerics' benefit. For now, best to focus on the immediate task: getting out.
There is one indignity to remedy.
"This should help." She turns towards Illiria, once more touching the scales on her breastplate. "Feiu of the Tears, make the air like water for Illiria."
On certain grey days when it is overcast and all colour seems drained from the surroundings, the horizon vanishes. Sky and water become the same, a colour between light and darkness, embodying the land beyond the horizon. The mermaid feels it. She can fly.
Her spell cast, Ashes turns to dragging the Iron King's remains down to the sunless sea.
Shaking the spells off, Donna waits until she's back to her normal self, before turning to look at Tessa. The relief in her eyes in palpable; it has been a *long* road to get to this point, and for herself the brawler is more than ready to be done with it. "You'd know best... guess the last mile ain't always the hardest." With a long, soul-deep sigh, Donna walks slowly back toward Alvin, dropping to a crouch and extending a hand to him, as she mulls over Tessa's advice. "Yeah," she says, finally. "Not too good." Looking at Alvin, the brawler gives the boy a wink, and a wry smile. "Life's no fun if you don't get into trouble now and again. Just, like the lady says; not *too* much, yeah kid? C'mon. Let's get done with this road."
Elyanna bows her head, eyes lidding under Tessa's kind words, "I will... so long as you care to listen." There is a little pause, something or other in her head finally allowing her to repeat a humble, "Thank you... and be well, till next we meet."
With Illiria suddenly losing 'weight' under Ashes's blessing, the Keeper waits for her cue that the mermaid has this new circumstance sufficiently under control before releasing her to her own(borrowed) power.
There is a little flash of subdued gratitude cast her countryman's way ere the red woman moves to help with the Mourner's carry on, with a heartfelt, "Agreed." to Donna's remark.
Illiria's face is one overcome with joy; after hours of depending on another for conveyance, coupled with shuffling about on the floor during combat to try to be helpful, the sudden freedom is glorious. Flush with newfound freedom she zips around the room, gives Ashes a hug, and then rushes off down the tunnel in an impromptu race with Sirri (which she wins, handily).
Walking at a normal pace down the tunnel would take around half an hour to catch up, as it eventually opens up into an expansive underground cavern; a natural one, full of larger versions of the vines with glowing flowers hanging from the ceiling, all illuminating a placid pool of water stretching from one end to the other, infused with the smell of salt and seaweed. Mermaid and gnome are waiting by the water's edge; and within the pool the water breaks, and perhaps two dozen merfolk emerge, gazing up at the party.
"My family, and my friends," Illiria explains. "It's only a short swim from here, to get back to your docks. Ten minutes for us, probably fifteen for you." She smiles pleasantly. "Don't worry. When you step into the water, I'll help you with the breathing. We won't let any of you drown."
Elyanna watches Illiria tear off into the tunnels with a certain curious light. That certainly looks like fun.
She glances toward Ashes, perhaps an indulgence for another time, then back to the others.
With the illuminated cavern sprawling before them, she exhales a faint whistle between her fangs, then turns her attention toward Illiria as she returns with her ilk.
She furrows her brow at the crowd, then, offers a simple, "Thank you."
A normal pace can seem a little longer when dragging a burden. Fortunately it is shared with her red-kin. Ashlee inhales deeply when they reach the sea and their waiting companions. She stares at the hanging flowers, their many points of light. Chippen rises up on top of her head, looking around also.
"I agree, it is nice." She comments, then nods to Illiria's family, moving a hand in a slow arc, "Hello."
"We need to get him to the docks too." The Mourner indicates the mass of ruined artifice and man. Oh right, once Elyanna speaks she adds, "Thank you Illiria, you kept us going."
The water laps quietly, "A swim sounds nice."
"Hey," Donna says to the boy on her hip as they enter the cavern, "lookit these flowers, ain't they pretty?" The salt-water pool is a blessed sight, in her eyes; not only are they going to get a bath, but they're going to be *going back.* And at the moment, never was there a more beautiful thought than that they don't have to go into the sewers for the next ever.
And when the merfolk show up, the brawler seems about to cry from sheer gratitude. "Hey," she says around a lump in her throat. "Can't thank you enough, all of you. An' especially you, Illira. We saved your life, but you saved ours again an' again."
"Yeah," replies Alvin; the boy is still sniveling, but has calmed down considerably on the walk here, with every step of distance between him and the violence that took place in the chamber behind. But it's over, now; he is no longer in the keeping of monsters, but the company of heroes. Even if he still isn't very talkative.
Illiria 'swims' her way up to the top of the cave, and returns with a picked, glowing pink flower. "For your Mother," she explains, presenting Alvin with the flower. "I enchanted it... it shall never wilt." She smiles, and casts her gaze back up to Donna. "You *did* save me, and a life saved is the greatest gift that can be given," she replies. "And your cause was the most just and generous I have encountered for years."
The Mermaid beckons everyone into the water; others from her family swim close, some helping to guide the land dwellers into the water, others taking the burden of the Iron King's remains. Illiria spreads her hands, "Let the water be as air, to those bound to the land," she pronounces, gathering a soft glow in her palms that washes over those of human, hobkin, gnomish, and half-elven persuasion. "May the Sea be ever welcoming to gentle children and virtuous heroes."
And so, it is.
Heroes and monsters are still relative terms, which the red hobkin seems content to leave lie for now. Her proficiency at soothing trauma is, by now well established in the days when the investigation was in it's initial swing.
It's not a long contemplation, as Elyanna watches Illiria prepare Alvin's souvenir, before she steps forward to offer her bare hand to the mermaid, "Thank you... for everything you have done, may your endeavors meet with success, Madame Illiria."
The Keeper wades into the water at their benefactoress's direction, ready as her comrades to leave this chapter behind them.
There is a modicum of guilt that the Mourner feels about her previous callous attitude regarding Alvin. It's a lot easier to care about someone once their presence is experienced, and not an abstract. He also doesn't talk much, and that is warming him up to her significantly. There's a glance in the boy's direction, as Donna's maternal instincts inform Ashlee's awareness of her own lack.
She should be forgiven. Being taken from one's mother and raised as a spell component can stunt one's emotional growth.
Much like Elyanna, Ashlee struggles with her self-image of monster and hero, even if she doesn't find such a conflict in others. Illiria is monstrous, and her actions were heroic in ways the Mourner can't adequately express. Although, she does say, "Thanks Illiria, really."
Then, as invited, she surrenders herself to the care of the damselfish and her family, the novelty of breathing the water like air, and floats away under glowing flowers amidst glittering scales. She realizes she was wrong earlier.
She's going home. They all are.
