The spell for detecting magic could, of course, be performed as a ritual in order to reduce the magical exertions, but by then, Dyn's spell would have run out. Although Jill was beginning to run low on spells already, she acquiesced, and the entirety of the world around her lit up in magical auras, each school giving off a unique light. As she examined the area, she described what she could see so the others could make sense of it too.
The entire structure reeked of conjuration and transmutation magic, but there was no difference between the doorway and the other parts of the structure. The green-hued water had a hint of necromancy in it, and several items in the room had strong magical auras. From her position, Jill could make out a few potions, a necklace of some sort (seemingly with several colored gems on it), and what appearef to be a pair of spectacles and a feather. No doubt these items were collected from unfortunate passersby who were captured or killed by the guard dogs. "I don't see a trap on this door, nor any illusion magic," Jill announced.
“Some days you tame the Tiger. Other days it has you for lunch." ~ Tug McGraw
Letting out a low rumble, Adrevz looked over at Cynthia and clearly said something to the other merfolk, the words strange and rather growly seeing as they left from a very non-humanoid mouth. While she was strong, Cynthia was stronger still and if she wasn't able to break down the door, she would need the other woman to do so, hopefully she would agree. Then again, she had no reason not to, just as she had no reason to do so either.
Cynthia nodded in response. "Kitty wants me to knock the door down," she translated as she swam forward. She rolled up her sleeves and dug her heels into the ground for some leverage before slamming her shoulder into its side, easily breaking the door off its hinges. "She loosened it," Cynthia replied with a smug grin.
A cross between a rawr and a laugh escaped the beast as she shook her head in disbelief at what Cynthia had said. There was a few more rumbles of Adrevz thanking Cynthia for her assistance, pleased that the door was now out of the way. However, now they had to deal with any potential traps that may have been triggered. To thank the woman again, the Druid rubbed her huge head against the other Merfolk, a low rumble in her chest, Cynthia was the only one allowed to pet her without losing her hand.
Cynthia scratched the massive nose gently as she looked about the loot. "Anything look interesting to you all? The gold certainly looks shiny enough from here."
Adrevz let out a low rumble when her father passed her, grabbing a necklace she had noticed and found rather interesting. She had no way of telling him directly of her interest, so she nudged Cynthia, asking her to do that for her before she sat down, blocking the view inside with her massive frame from anyone else.
So, the room was open. The 'daughter' of the Beholder pressed on ahead, followed closely by the betentacled creature whose eyes darted all across the room, judging any and all items that stood out of the pile of treasure. Jill had listed them quite well, but the Wizard also noted a few scrolls sticking out. The necklace struck him as odd, quite similar to one of Fireballs he had seen much more often, but now with beads of many different colours. He would need to look into this. He scooped that up with one tentacle and gathered up the scrolls with the rest, starting an attempt to decipher the scripture contained by them.
“Hey, hey, hey. No blocking kobolds from a shiny prize,” Askia telepathically stated to Adrevz, following Dyn closely behind to get to the loot store. In fact she had to stop and admire the view as her natural greed began to kick in. “Oh yes, this will do nicely,” she stated aloud before her eyes were gazed upon Cynthia, “But not as nicely as you, dearest Cynthia.” Askia let out a light chuckle before going to inspect the gold with greedy eyes.
Adrevz let out a low growl to the Kobold, doing her best to inform the creature not to get too greedy as there were those who put the effort into opening the room for the others. Of course, Koan and Noriam would miss out, but they were to enraptured with one another for her to really care.
Cynthia was in the middle of translating the kitty's wishes to Dyn as Askia ... complimented? her. "You all seem pretty comfortable around gold coins," she replied as Askia's attention turned to her one true shiny love. "If you wouldn't mind me grabbing a few of those gold bars for my trouble, I would appreciate it. After all, I did find this kitty for you."
Adrevz nodded her head in agreement, before giving Askia another warning growl as it pertained to her greed. She had no way to tell the Kobold to allow the four within to split the coins evenly, so she looked over at Cynthia with a pleading look. Sure, the Kobold could speak to the Druid, but the Druid had no means of doing so unless Askia took the time to actually try to understand her.
Dyn momentarily dedicated three eyes to looking over at Cynthia and... Askia. The kobold had decided to yet tag along. If it was Jill's will, he would have to tolerate this creature for longer than he would care. However, that didn't mean he needed to make it pleasant for the newcomer.
The merwoman would share Dyn's daughters request to have the necklace once he was done, to which he more or less answered with the twitch of one corner of his mouth. He didn't necessarily fully condone to the idea, but since it was his Adrevz who was asking... before a verbal answer could be given, the matter turned to money and Cynthia proposed she would have some of the gold bars.
"Naturally. A labourer is worthy of their reward. A job well done speaks for itself. It is a shame not everyone present can be argued to have said worth in them", Dyn responded, not at all hiding his remaining animosity towards the self-proclaimed would-be hero. With that, his eyes returned to work, the three that had been focused on the conversation now scanning the room and the rest still on the scrolls.
“On the other hand, dearest Cynthia, you could always give me one of those gold bars and I’ll treat you to such a lavish night of splendor,” Askia said, her eyes turning toward the merwoman, though her lust was more for the thought of more gold than that of the beautiful woman herself.
The communicative growl that Adrevz had been giving the Kobold before suddenly turned far more dangerous as those words left it's mouth. The fact that someone would even thing that Cynthia would buy someone's time was completely absurd and enfuriated the huge tiger far beyond reason. Without much warning, Askia soon found herself being lifted in the Tiger's mouth, sharp teeth sinking into scaled flesh as violet eyes showed unmistakable anger at the Kobold's words towards Adrevz long time friend. [atk roll: 20 dmg roll: 15]
Cynthia laughed at both Askia's proposal and Adrevz's response. "It seems the kitten doesn't approve of your offer, Scales. I'm sorry, but I must decline for now." She gently patted the tiger's side, whispering a few words in Sylvan. "If you really wish to provide me with a 'lavish night of splendor,' you should get the kitty's permission first."
Dyn wrapped the scrolls up in his tentacles and looked over the necklace one more time before turning a few eyes to face Adrevz. If she wanted it, she might as well have it. He would have a hard time wearing it anyway and she and Jill were the only ones he could fully trust here. But yet again before he had had the chance to weigh in another spectacle took place and Askia was relieved of her need to choose for herself where she stood and where she went. Dyn let out a single amused noise as he began approaching the clown fiesta at the door.
Cynthia seemed to respond to the kobold creeping up on her with amusement, though Dyn could not understand how she found it in herself to tolerate the scale brain. He held out the necklace for his daughter, the tip of his tentacle still barely curled around it. "Take it, child, if you so will. My attention is required elsewhere", he would promise before swimming up to Jill. He had a few things he needed to speak of.
"I do not see the value of this kobold. She has been nothing but trouble, from bleeding all over the tavern, vanishing without a trace and returning to ruin our cover and continuously harrying our local guide. But that you already knew, I am sure", he murmured before turning to focus on the valuable items in the room. "There should be some split to this here pile. Cynthia took her part and we should now collect ours, no?"
“You say that, Beholder, but you have yet to recognize the power of the mind,” Askia commented, her ego unable to be broken as it instead whipped the Tiger (8 damage), forcing the beast to open her jaw. As the tigress released her, Askia turned to the tiger and stated clearly through gritted teeth, “Please refrain from doing that again, brat.”
Adrevz glared at Askia, shaking her head for a brief moment before snorting. "Do not proposition my best friend as if it is nothing and not expect a retaliation you greedy belly walker," the tiger retorted, figuring out that it wouldnt be too difficult to press her thoughts to the lizard, "She may think it funny, but I do not. I find it to be rude and demeaning and that is no way to get anything out of someone you desire."
Alas, the deepest cut was not of the blade nor axe hacking your limbs apart. Twas the lash of love which stung harder, and arrows of eros that bore the kissing bite. Woe befalls the man who hangs his head beneath the executioner's stump, but more pitiful still is the happy lover! For to the headsman should the condemned lose their head, but to lose his head and heart to another is the destiny of the fool in love. For the object of such wanton feelings could never be marred by death or destruction. The fatal attraction to become intimately involved, cherishing each moment fleeting through the fingers like the rustle of her satin hair. To mourn over the loss, that summer day which basked the soul in such wondrous light, shut in to the darkness of artificial night. Why, such is love's transgression: love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet. Ah to be out of love, rather than in it, the chaos greatest of all, full of contradictions that drive a man to the sweet embrace of another. Sometimes of another which catches the stray eye examining other beauties, sometimes to a mistress that is life within death. Oh, teach him how he should forget to think, and forget a broken heart! Oh happy dagger, this is thy sheath!
Her eyes were nothing like the sun. Her lips pale, her skin grey dun, her raven hair. The putrid wilting roses among the gardens of Eden, of all all creation she was the most foul. Her screams like grating iron, her scent twice as so a blood which poured and suffocated. Alas, to every Adam perhaps an Eve, no angel or goddess should he be granted, but an equally sinful mate. See how the goddess rejects, commands of heaven and provides no love in return. Was his purpose to be but to worship? High laud her and extol her, the praises sung of her name. Spurned so however by another, there would be no more given. For he had awaited for her next command, and yet still none came. Useless, unworthy, and unwanted. Echoing as the enthralled man left Koan, so too did Jill leave him behind. And perhaps such cruelty was the slap across the jaw which turned those infernal eyes at Koan.
He had seen a goddess go, swimming away from his side leaving him and his devil in her wake. The whispers of the serpent lamenting, crying out so bittersweet. They deserved one another, a pair of vile wretches they would make, delving the shadows of their downfall. Jill had pulled such shroud away, unmasking the bonds of shadows which clung around them. The flattery of the mind woven around the enchanted aasimar who once flocked to her side without another thought. Yet now as the dark fog rolled back with distance, that which made the heart grow fond, the epiphany returned like a bite into the forbidden fruit. He had forsaken Koan, there behind him nigh forgotten, forlorn in the whirlpool of her own drowning. Truly could it be said, that each tear drop wept into the seas made no difference. Yet more salty was the waters now than before by the weeping of the drow maiden and by heaven never was there a love as rare. As any she belied with false compare.
"Koan..." The regret dripped off the vowels. "I... I'm sorry, she... She used her talents against me. Her golden voice so clear and cutting, dominating... I... She bewitched me... Her beauty and grace, the way she commanded me... It was... Impossible for me to resist, I beg you forgive me Koan."
Pausing to make amends, a finger which attempted to wipe the merging tears from her cheek. What would she think of him? Would she accept him? Or would the dark angel too cast him into limbo for serving neither heaven nor hell?
The faintest salve finally breathed from her source of forlorn adoration. A bitter ambrosia puffed by the male shadowmancer as adjacent merfolk quarreled amongst themselves and an offensive portal, eventually revealing, behind its wet bones, a treasure trove worthy of a larcenous Midas. The oblivious buffoon ignored the rumpus and nibbled upon the audible morsels carried by the currents of Noriam’s solicited confession, a hopeful metanoia before the combusting inquisition of drab eyes.
The stammering stuttering. The sputtering sobbing.
The hesitating ziggurats of vernacular declared sincerity, seeming mostly earnest and honest, but the ancestral statues of disfigured regret pooled and cemented into broken simulacra of pity and angst, trickling from the lips of her aspired lover. All before a ravenous gaze of a fool, as his boisterous hemlock poisoned her authentic perception of Jill, their leader.
She used her talents…
Was the warlock’s will guillotined by the blade of their enthralling captain? Not a glamorous bard, but a spiteful enchantress of Llyr sand castles, moist with the encroaching tide’s evanescent retreat, but hardened by the gritty grains of spite, sprawled and compacted under the whipped palms of a Conchis. In return, an Achren restrained her mate with a mere sultry ogle, glowering and binding her to the dead man, resurrected by shadows, and followed by murky mongrels. A starvation of unrequited ardor fanned the famished flame of anger, purchasing a bribe of thirty blinks of silver. The clown accepted the puppet’s apology, but juggling the badgering implications spelled mutiny. Would insurgent sedition wash over the jester, gravitationally shifting the gorge within the amygdalin pit of her barren soul to relinquish affection in favor of a paradoxical loyalty? This recalcitrant ebb and flow from this Sauron, suggested a candid coaxing.
His insipid hair floating, dreaming thunder, quaking the feeble knees of the joker, as the others trotted further into the paragon of stolen fortune. His chin’s brink breached the valley of a sorrowing abyss, which beckoned her mercy and compassion. Twas a meager roar of an endless woe, the proverbial weeping and gnashing of teeth. The brows above his tearful orbs waxed a furrowed blindness, begging belief of his bewitchment as the wrinkles descended into anguished courage born by saints and demons.
“She…” Her scarlet wreathes darted like coins cast by a penitent Iscariot, toward the chief of their S.S. Lady Slipper. “Did this to me… And you?”
"To us." The correction bittersweet. How vile a serpent's tongue matched the the charms of the other Aasimar. Whispered words of Claudius into the ear of king Hamlet, admissions of guilt that wrestled the soul against the gods. And yet, alas, from what chalice they would share together, poison sipped in grace. He could not, no would not, sever the ties which still entrapped them, the betrayal had granted him the audience within Jill's court had it not? No, too blessed by heavens to be in her tidings did the enthralled one find himself, merry in drinking and feasting upon the honey that dripped from her enchanting lips. Such that his confession to the weeping fool burdened him greater with one foot on either side. And the Spanish donkey he rode as the devoted inquisition split him from side to side just as he did to the Cerberus not so long ago. Oh how weight of both women on his shoulders tore the wings and plucked the feathers, turning his mind from one temptation to another. And so too perhaps the predicament reflected in the watery eyes of the dark mistress as his fingers found the tears at her cheek. Alas how the Bard would turn at all the summons, the very work thickening the hidden plots. Collusion played in the shadows, and the whispers of Iago ruin the bonds of man by jealous and mistrust. What was the greatest sin of all but envy after pride?
"But blame not her enchanting voice and ravishing beauty, Koan, but my weakness for it." The soft redirection, a gentle nudge to turn the head and eyes of Koan back towards the shadowed one, the placing of a Romeo between a Tybalt and Mercutio in attempt to resolve such ire. For the daggers in the eyes were not betrayed by words almost hissed. Clawing through the fog of his mind, the strings which pierced his skin with iron needles to become Jill's marionette, kneeling at her behest and urge. What idle chatter the others had seemed a world away, barely registering as the party broke into a vault of a golden horde. Yet since for all the riches of a kingdom could be so easily traded for a horse, what good was such idle riches? Chests of gold could not absolve the soul, offerings of silver could not bring back the dead, and jewels nor pearls could not replace tears. There was only one worthy tribute to regain Koan's endearment, a price to be paid for such sins: A pound of flesh and all the blood drawn therein. "I beg you punish me for my weakness. Tear your claws into my body and let your talons remind it of your touch."
"Mark me yours so I remember, brand me to be faithful to you alone. Anoint me in my own tortured blood and let my cries of pain be praises of devotion to you." Ah to watch the clown's expressions change, from sadness into ire, yet in a bargain of his own, 'Sauron' was blind to the gathering storm. His body offered to shield his enchantress from the wrath gleaned in those mutinous eyes, a flash of insight alone would have perhaps teased away such thoughts. Yet for the condemn thrall, he saw only desperation in his meager ploy, an attempt to sate both masters. Something which he knew he could not do, and this attempt would be all in vain. Their fates left hanging in the balance for Koan to decide, dangling over the pit of darkness with snickering jowls awaiting for the return of their lured lover. Would she do as he suggested, and claw into the shadows of his armor? Harming him such that the pain remind him of to whom it was he should kneel before? Or would she enjoy watching him slowly strangle? Drowning slowly in a pool of his own words?
And now should all of Rome gaze upon Antony and Cleopatra? For betrayal is all but a moment's heartbeat away. Like the bite of asp to break a lover's heart.
Myasthenia flounced upon the shoulders of the jester, slouching in feeble whimsy as the Almeira beneath her boiling skin, scorned the furies within her sutured abdomen. Now, a Belinda, manic and ferocious over the loss of a proverbial mane of trust, the locked raptum, tempting the lord of Petres, to cut, for him and him alone a lock ironically with permission. The quittance of Hera seeking remuneration of a Zeus for his illicit pleasures wrought by havoc and by force. However, Noriam was not a god, but a shadow pirouetted by pulleys jerked and wrenched strings of the angel in question, as a Brunhilden devil gazed with bile, torrid tumors like stalactites barring and banning anything but the festered fetor of scalding cavern of madness past the skull of a Yorick.
Her sigh waxed and waned, as ears devoured the offer of altruism, to not harm Jill, but hammer the bouquet the whispered seraphs, emitted by her preposterous love. Sauron’s words clapt their remorseful wings, resounding the heavenly vault between Koan’s ears. The availing dirge heaved her pensive bosom, distracting by the confessing groan from the nobler strain of a man infected by the painful felicity of a more clever bard.
Or was this a mere farce, orchestrated for her suitor to fall on the sword of a broken hero?
The insightful buffoon eyed the polished stud upon the glossal muscle, now jutted out for all to glean, wilting below her bewitched nostrils, which recanted mimes and adorned the Demosthenes of the realms. The ferrous taste of iron constantly reminded the clown of the vampiric keepsake of a forsworn slavery, to which her mouth was no longer a thrall in that surpassed dream of abused thrones and rusting crowns. With a frail finger, a flame erupted briefly upon the tongued jewel, only to be snuffed by the overwhelming water pervading and drowning them.
Mark me…
Her silvery arms abruptly hugged the warlock ever tightly as a blistering kiss soon embraced his dancing sinew originating from the oral depths of concessions.
“Please. Your wish is always my command. Now. Be quiet.”
The osculating Naxos hissed amidst the Ariadne and her Theseus.
Embraced with a kiss. How quaint that the prodigal son would be so welcome once more, despite his wavering loyalty. And of all things to anoint him as your devotee: a kiss. Alas, her arms around him, and his arms so willingly taking her. The tendrils of darkness binding in glee as shadows touched, consummating their ploys to use their peons. The rest of the party had been far too focused on the glimmer and glint of earthly treasures that they seemed to have forgotten the fallen and the fool. Tucked away in the background as they made their lover's quarrel, in the verdant stream where their silhouettes became one against the dark waters. The hissing of steam and bubbles the only sounds which muffled the moans of pleasure and pain between them. Flesh seared unto glowing metal, scraped across the brand as both tongues burned by that cheeky tongue stud heated ever hot. Lips locked and heads tilted all the slightest, ministrations across the sensitive flesh quivered in spasms of pain. Twas the act of suckling upon the teat of Hestia, her hearthfire searing the sizzling tongues. But so eager were hungry mouths, devouring all the thousands of chili peppers as each dulled taste registered only as pain carried across the trinity of the five, nine and ten. The infernal kiss to be shared, devilishly romantically as eyes winced closed in pushing through the burning agony. The jerking motions of the body tethered against each other, grappled in the arms such that neither could slip away. An experience neither would soon forget.
That is until the final spasm of Koan's body gave in throw, the final gaze into 'Sauron's' eyes the ecstatic pupils wide enough to see the reflection of herself within the darkness of those hellish irises. The pleasure of knowing she had branded him there in a most intimate of parts was hers, the silver tongue marked by her stud. Of all the words he could sweetly spin to pull wool over the eyes, his serpent's speech now addled by her signature. This was a trial by fire, as in the old days the accused were put to the test by a heated knife over their bare tongue. For if one was a righteous man, there was no reason to fear the wrath of a blade, and thus no autonomics to shrivel a lying tongue dry at the sight. Thus the heat would be cooled by the sizzle of saliva for the honest man, yet the lies which the umbramancer bore across his tongue scalded him so. He had been untruthful to them all, and now this was his retribution was it not? And yet, with the ecstasy of pain the spell the Bard had over him was broken. Purgatory had removed him of his sins, as he held the limp Koan aloft, bracing her unconscious body in his arms. The revelation as his senses returned bar taste and smell, that he held a dear mistress who had given him his wish at such a cost. The pain muted him still, the hundreds of pins penetrating his tongue that tickled his sadomasochism so. To feel the life slowly slipping away from her in his hands, a moment of bliss to know how she straddled life and death; To see the cyanosis of her grey skin, turning now as she gave her very breaths for him.
And now returned, the dark aasimar slid his hand to cradle the blue beauty's head from the current's bob. Their broken kiss rendering him silent as her final orders. To admire her anymore was to kill her, and thus with a single finger tracing a line down her brow to those lips and down her neck the warlock used his innate restorative powers to revive his dark lady back into the waking world where she may find herself still held in her smiling servant's arms with all the dysfunctional twisted gestures of affection between a fool and his fool.
And though neither were fit for battle sans rest, they had avoided a shipwreck all together. For had her ire not been resolved in such a way, what anger seething as her now cool stud once bore may have erupted into chaos. Yet was there not a rift that grew? One that a kiss could not alone mend? A spite of jealous in such spit, that swapped and swallowed in bitterness deep? So ends the drama of this tale for now. Yet perhaps the promise of another to be woven looms with the snickering shadows.
Noriam rolls an 18 for Persuasion, but Koan answers with a 20 for Insight. Angry, regardless, she follows his lead and casts Heat Metal on her tongue ring as she kisses him. For thirty seconds, both smoochers suffer a potential 10d8 fire damage from the scorching stud. No Constitution save can be made as she can not drop the object in question. If she remains awake, Koan gains Disadvantage on Attack Rolls and Ability Checks until the start of the next turn, only if Noriam chooses to withdraw from her intentional grapple. Koan recasts with each failed concentration check: two times for each failed save until she falls unconscious. Noriam chooses not to withdraw from her grapple.
Results: Noriam fire damage: 6+1+3+6+5+4+7+6 = 38 Fire damage, 26 Hp remaining Koan is unconscious = 0 Hp remaining. Death Saves: 1 pass, 1 fail.
Resolution: Noriam uses Racial feature: Healing Hands to restore 10 Hp to unconscious Koan, reviving her. Koan's Wild Magic Feature has turned Koan's skin blue.
As the others bickered over the magic items and loot, Jill backed out of the cramped room and made her way towards where they had left Koan and the aasimar. For some reason, they hadn't met up yet, and Jill had started to worry slightly. With the effects of her Detect Magic spell still active, she could see the faint magical aura of a spell being cast as they kissed, but she was too late to do anything other than watch as Koan fell unconscious in the aasimar's arms. One part of her wanted to rush out and save the mage, but the other was curious about what their new friend would do. Was he about to let Koan drift away, bleeding out in the salty waters? Or would he harness the power of the heavens and save the jester?
A beat... then two. Jill opened her mouth to call out a healing word when finally the holy energy flowed through his hands and restored Koan's breath. The word and magical energy died on her lips, and the captain breathed a sigh of relief. Trust was not easily won in this part of the planes, and Jill was almost as slow as their beholder to truly trust someone, but chances would be offered until proven wrong. Jill was not too happy about letting Koan's life hang in the fallen aasimar's sadistic balance for long, but she was alive. That was all that mattered.
"I would tell you two to get a room," Jill called out, making her presence known, "but I'm afraid you wouldn't survive the night. If you are quite finished, we need to move on. No amount of healing can cure stupidity." The final sentence was muttered barely loud enough for them to hear as she returned to the others. Seeing as they were still divvying up money and propositioning the merfolk, Jill peeked her head around the next corner before darting back to rejoin the others.
"Dyn, everyone, come quick!" she whispered hoarsely. "There's someone here! Looks like a prisoner." Indeed, a fully armored blonde woman wielding a staff and shield was in a part of the cavern that seemed to fold in on itself to make a comfortable cell, complete with apparently naturally forming stalagmite bars keeping her from escaping. It wasn't long before Jill's presence became obvious to the woman, and the captain waved sheepishly. "Uh, hey. Can we help you out of there?"
The woman had been sitting on the cavern floor with her legs crossed, with her eyes closed. It looked as though she was either meditating or contemplating on how to escape her prison, judging from how she breathed slowly and her face was slightly scowled with thought. Her staff was laid across her lap while the shield remained on her arm, ready to block anything. When the newcomer came into the room and was close enough, the woman's eyes snapped open to show her irises which were the brightest shade of green, and she looked up at the woman curiously. She couldn't believe her luck! What were the chances that she wasn't the only adventurer who came here after the marid?
She quickly stood (swam?) to meet with the woman's eyes at an equal level, and she answered the woman, clearly relieved to see the woman, "Yes! Yes, if you can get me out of here, that would be great!" She then asked "You're after the Marid too, right? I can help you fight him once I'm outta this cell,"
She then looked towards the door where Jill came from, to see if anyone was following the woman. The woman with the blonde hair seemed especially vigilant, looking around to make sure that there was nothing hostile nearby. If there was, the blonde haired woman would be sure to warn Jill right away.
Dyn'yer'zhead had gathered most of what belonged to him by the division of the group having entered the treasure room. He had to admit, finding the place to be without malice had been a surprise, that much was for sure. In his mind, he repeated the question he had already asked: Who leaves piles of loot right at the entrance, guarded by naught but a flimsy door and three cerberi? All in all, a lousy attempt at protecting the valuables. Unless the valuables were being tracked somehow. But how? Magical beacons would not make it out of this structure and there were nothing in the sense of more conventional things here either. The theories of the Beholder were interrupted by Jill calling for everyone to come quickly, but with his name being the first on her lips. He swam to her immediately, hearing an unfamiliar voice around the corner before appearing to the scene himself, the many-eyed faux captain just behind the true chief of the party.
The new acquaintance that had just promised her aid in the fight against the marid for being helped out of the cell suddenly screamed out, her green eyes laid on Dyn's form. The warnings aimed at Jill would most likely ring to deaf ears as Dyn made a display of slowly slinking over to Jill's shoulder with a tentacle of his touching her arm. "Thank you for the acute observation, I do count myself among the ultimate forms of life. Their king uncrowned, that is I, Dyn'yer'zhead. Now if you would get back to that inside voice of yours, we could have a chat about getting you out of there, whoever you are."
If she was not to cease making a racket, the Bladesinger might need to resort to other means, but for now there were other matters on his mind. "Show her the emblem. Maybe she will recognise it", Dyn suggested to Jill before turning his attention back to the imprisoned one, be it that many of his eyes had never ceased observing her. "Before we decide that the enemy of our enemy is our friend, we would like to know why you are here", he asked of her, assuming that she had calmed down enough for such a discussion in the first place of course.
“Some days you tame the Tiger. Other days it has you for lunch." ~ Tug McGraw
Seeing as there wasn't much room for her to wiggle her entire self into the room and still leave room for the other's, Adrevz settled on simply sticking her head into the doorway after Dyn and Jill entered, a curious gleam in her violet eyes. The woman didn't exactly look familiar to her, as she couldn't remember the last person who had asked to go after Marid, she had lost count some time ago as they never made it back anyway. Turning her attention to Jill, then to Cynthia as she didn't think that the Aasimar would be able to understand her, leaving it to the other merwoman to translate for her. "Kuyini lokhu? Omunye umuntu okumele sizenzele yena noma omunye ozokwazi ukusingatha yena futhi angazami ukubulala amalungu ephathi esizama ukuwasebenzisa ukubulala uMarid?" the large tiger questioned, the words coming out on growls and strange purrs as the vocal cords of a felid were not meant to be used to speak as more intelligent beings could. She never really got used to speaking in such a way either, it always felt strange in a rather unpleasant manner, but not everyone was able to read body language accurately, she didn't need someone thinking she was going to eat them when all she was trying to do was get them to either follow her or leave a dangerous area. Roaring was a good way to scare someone off, but it definitely left you unapproachable and feared more than you may want to be. Past her inquiry, she did not have much else to ask or do unless she was asked to, though she wasn't too keen on just letting someone out of a cell without making sure they weren't going to harm them. She doubted the two who decided to do whatever to each other would hold off well if they had to fight again.
The woman looked at the newcomer and her eyes widened as she recognized it as a beholder. She didn't scream, but instead swore "Oh shit! A beholder! Run, miss! Now!" But the woman didn't make any movement. Her eyes darted between the two, her concern for the woman growing as the beholder floated closer and closer, and she told the woman, "Madam, don't be a hero! Run, NOW!" She lifted her shield and staff, ready to try and fight the beholder off from behind the bars...somehow, someway.
The blonde haired woman was surprised to see that when the beholder was close enough, it didn't attack. Instead it seemed to caress her shoulder and arm. With an eyebrow raised, she looked to the beholder in the eye...er, eyes, as it spoke. She was honestly stunned at the fact that this beholder was not attacking anyone and was holding a civil conversation with her. The stunned expression didn't last long though, as the woman's gaze became intense and studied the beholder in front of her as he spoke to the other woman. After a moment, the woman had a slight grin cross her face, but it quickly went away as the Beholder asked why she was there.
He was joking...right?
She then asked with a tilt of her head and she asked with a shrug, gesturing to herself, "Isn't it obvious? That giant wolf head, Ulla-something or other, asked me to come and kill the Marid," She then looked over to Jill, as though to gauge what her reactions and thoughts would be.
She then looked past the beholder to see...a tiger? A tiger that can breathe underwater...Huh...
It was also speaking in a strange language that sounded like Elven, but it clearly wasn't Elven. What was that language? The woman looked at the tiger curiously with a tilt of her head.
Her response did not really surprise him. On one end, it meant that her quest had began much like theirs. There was the chance that she was trying to trick them though. That she was here to see if anyone would admit to serving the theullai and try and stab them in the back or something. But that would be easily verified. Whether Jill had dug the emblem out or not, Dyn's next words would have asked the imprisoned one to show if she had one of those. That was, until his daughter joined the discussion.
That being said, nobody understood a word of what she was saying, or nobody that would speak up anyway. The word 'Marid' remained a constant between the languages, yet with just that not much could be interpreted. Probably asking the same question as everybody else: Whether she was here to hunt down the marid or to help them. Dyn assumed that to be all and now turned to the woman to ask the question he had been meaning to: "Reasons are as many as adventurers. What might seem obvious to one may not be so to another. We, for one, are here to also map this place for a merchant. Would not think so by just looking at us, hmm? Have you heard what the merfolk say of the marid we both seem to seek?"
At the captain’s terminating dénouement, the navy clown lifted her foolish chin in the coddling arms of her savior, her lashes swung wide, without supranuclear palsy, to savor the fickle figs in place of his crying eyes. The azure buffoon entwined her serpentine arm about his neck, whispering and hissing silence from the branded Oedipus, as it coiled around his cervical vertebrae. All the somber cliques of this aquatic Hell breathed perishing ashes for tears, as seeds of scarlet dripped from the couplets of their pared pairs of lips, announcing the propitiation of Samson and his Delilah, fleeting and fleeing in the current that juxtaposed the inferno of their smothered animosity, conveniently just as Jill turned further inward.
“Thank you.”
The hidden centaur in her mental Elysium, endowed with a crib of infantile rage, burped up an appreciating embryo of courtesy, as the cobalt contortionist wormed her other arm behind the small of the warlock’s immense back, tempting the pits of Venus to cradle the dragooned zenith above his swarming hips. The molten magnanimity chortled out wordlessly, scoffing at the snakes that grappled her angel’s chiseled physique. The wingless shoulders as open as a dragon lying mendaciously to those after its hoard. Moments spared one vise after another, clinching ever tighter embraces. The offered blood pooled between them, evidence of their tortuous smooch, Herculean in herding and hiding them from the discussions held further past the tigress. The jester’s talons cared not, soon barbing another caress above and below his heaving thoracic cavity, as her flexible legs, draped themselves again in crimson, partly masking her cerulean kissed skin, novel to the twosome and never fraudulent to the insanity betwixt her core.
A murmured rumor eventually filled the ears of Noriam, softly, awaiting the verdict of such hinting gossip.
Deeper into madness yet. The toxic arrows of eros, envenomed with such a smiting that one kiss leaves one smitten. To devour the lotus and think of Nought, how far the fairer daughter of Laertes went to fetch her crew, but found them in such macabre embrace. The veil of life and death, fluttering in those awakened eyes once more. The rebuke from Jill nothing more than a laughable scolding compared to the tongue lashing Koan had bestowed. The damage was done, it was fair that she chastised them both for being poison to each other, feeding off the insanity of the other in a mutilating mutual madness. Yet in his silence the umbramancer said nothing to Jill who had dejectedly turned and left the pair to their bad romance. What crimson trickles had anointed them? Surely the others in the group would be able to tell of the vicious acts inflicted upon each other. But as their last encounter had failed to entertain 'Sauron' or Koan and sate their sadistic bloodlusts, maybe they were made to be, someone crazy enough to withstand Koan's wanton urges.
This will never end, because I want more. More, give me more, give me more...
In his smiling silence, he partook in the jester's embrace, clinging on to her as she did him. A sloth of lust and claws digging into his side and back, the thrill of future pains delighted his damaged body so. To indulge in such exquisite agony, perhaps that was there was left to tingle the lost spirit. The need to harm and be harmed, the twinge of pain a fierce reminder of how alive you are. For the dead feel nothing, and to feel anything was better than to feel nothing. And perhaps, in a way, the twisted mind worked out that the pain was his punishment, an absolution for abandoning his purpose. And why not enjoy the burning waltz through purgatory with your Beatrice? Or better yet, as her angelic blue arms suggested, with Koan. Oh how the single finger continued carving across her body, tracing a line down the midsagittal as if cutting the fool apart in his arms. His talon had sliced the beating black pitter-patter, rejuvenated by his touch once like a quick cardioverion. How insidiously sweet the ebonpyre of the Fallen's burning eyes gazing over, the finger turning into fingers which brushed across Koan's waist before with a grunt took his Lilith in stride. The droning beat of the bass to the rush of blood... Dropping... Dripping from the mouth and chin unto chin and neck.
If I had a heart I could love you, If I had a voice I would sing...
With a cutting step, he parted the waters, falling footsteps guiding along his Pandora into the devil's labyrinth as story-crossed Virgil. A deliberate slow dance, as tantalizing as her touch was, there was a loyalty in restraint. The hand at her waist caressed Koan's hip catching her to follow, the calm of the storm's fury, the unseen movement of the crushing tides rolling away beneath the sea. How too did the dark Aasimar and the Drow roll forward, one foot at at time as he lead to her suggestion, eyes madly involved with her as the empty treasures of the vault were long since raided by greed. So what of it? Both were near death, listlessly their bodies cried out for rest to resolve their aching sores, yet more did their lusting minds desire, pushing the other into boldness and stupidity out of that tainted love. This was merely the beginning, a prelude to come certainly with 'Sauron's' slow but steady approach, enduring it all was half the battle and half the fun. She had given her insights, her wild nature fickle and unrestrained, but now... Now it was his turn to show her the cruelty of tempo. She had surrendered herself to him did she not? Thus march on, to the stage to entertain their captive audience, with the practiced stalking of a death bringer. Feel the wake in passing shiver as they enter, the chill in the watery air. Look what darkness do the waves bring...
after the night when I wake up... I'll see what tomorrow brings...
The enveloping saline was peppered by a bruised black and blue bindi, dancing and relishing an oozing crimson mandala betwixt them as it swept further, ever near the ogled inquisition, borne on seductive pinions as the Beholder questioned the beheld blonde behind bars. Cleaving to the armor of obscurities, she lifted herself, still bound in his hoisted grip, sailing and eyeing above all as a sapphire queen, mimicking a foreign royalty, that of a sultry Sheeba enticing a Solomon of shadows. Safe words remained unspoken by the duet. With fastened vermillion borders, she slid back down into his squeeze, pushed and pulled into the comprising cover of his writhing tendrils. After some twirls and dips, the byzantine tango seemed to linger, as if their listless footsteps conversed with the listening darkness, farther ahead. The sound of paddling eavesdropped into an orgasmic beat, interrogating the presence of a marid, of which the glacial Bledig promised.
Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah.
The ruffled legs jaunted to and fro, shuffling like muffled roars of falling waters. The indigo buffoon provided no sign of seduction, not desiring the head of her baptizer as a reward. No, the capricious Salome welcomed the azure taint of Loki, the blue devil that riddled her smiling face. Her fishy cheeks darted up and down like a school of labyrinthine paraplesiops, failing to race away from Sauron’s smoldering members which had already kindled her glowing waist with embers of subdued enmity. She pranced not only as his Jezebel but a tragic Cleopatra to this ever expansive troupe, the nemesis of prophecies and a koan of courtesans. The jester hoped that his silent heart did not pity her, but rather pirouette and skip to an arrhythmia of his reunited Lucrezia. Compared to the courting of his cardiac contention, her deliberations concluded…
If I had a voice, I would sing.
As the pale moon makes her sacred circles around the patient power strides, perhaps one could pause and admire the zen between them. The dancing fool, heart happy leaping with bounds at arm's reach, twirling her dancer's dervish. The dark lord, brooding shadow cutting a path through with his plodding march. One fast in ecstasy, seducing, the other slow in meditation, admiring. To feel her presence, flitting and flirting around him, to feel his gravitas drawing her into him. Indeed like the moon the Drow mistress was locked, and with her final smiling spin, the sapphire succubus was taken once more by the shadows from whence she came. Captured with arms around her catching her, yet not holding her close to his heart as he once did when it all began, but letting her momentum tip the jester back into his tendrils. Lifting her was easy twice-fold for the lady was lithe and the waters were supportive, and despite the weary kiss the warlock managed to lift her up on the altar. Hands caressing through her shoulders and back before settling on her dancer's abdominals, unbeknownst filled with the source of her chaos. Muscles primed and flexed to lift the dark angel on high, ascended from the shadows of Hell, there she could strike a pose as she desired, as Koan's body became parallel to the invisible ground for a moment of rapture. There his eyes gazed up, chin tilted to worship her shadow and his hands felt the strange mass within her. But he thought not of it under her wings, for was it not a glorious sight to behold her and pay no mind to the interrogating beholder?
Dangling feet from window frame Will I ever ever reach the floor?
And the moment passed, to which back into his embrace Koan would find herself lowered, slowly pulled down as hands climbed across her form and drew her in. The Fallen behind her, pressed into her back and tilted to her left ear, as she was to his right. A mouthless whisper, unspoken utterances shared perhaps by mewling. The dance coming to a close as the hands drifted down and away, releasing Koan to be free to spread his darkness into the world. Jill, Cynthia, Adrevz, Dyn... And a missing pesky lizard where did the mystic wander off to? Did they miss her scurrying off like a thief in the night as they waltzd in? And who was this prisoner who distracted the eye for but a moment to be accessed as a threat to their dance? Nevermind it seemed Jill and Dyn had things done, yet now the scales were tipped towards Jill's command, and a mutiny without the kobold would surely fail unless the shadows could corrupt the blonde again Jill. But for now, 'Sauron' was pleased with their dance, at last the madness completed. Sins forgiven, atoned by pain.
More, give me more, give me more
Was the merfolk envious of their huddled command, willing to exchange her whole world to glimpse into their cohesive soul? The wisped promenade punctured the poverty of the pallid proximity, devoid of gold, ransacked by the audience’s avarice.
Crushed and filled with all I found.
Anemic of loneliness, the mood of creation abstracted them from the sallow sea, poignantly painted as Noriam’s smoke tickled her lungs, driving further into the abyss of her carnalities, soothing their constitutions with the physical poetry each scribed on their own chamberless partitions, which splashed within their jetted humors. The waded funks prompted notes of inevitable certainty, vivid and momentous as the cobalt hurricane circumscribing the fallen Aasimar. The comic’s fleshly graffiti tiptoed as a revolving ballet. The immersive iconography span as lights beneath her sutured abdominal fascia suggested the jazzy mobile was afoot.
Underneath and inside Just to come around More, give me more, give more
Stitches renowned of a witch, constraining the birth of a deux ex machination, appeased by the sanguine sacrifices felt on its umbilical gates. Blame espoused the atoned anguish, as their feverish foxtrot, as do all bad things, came to an end. The blue sorceress bellowed in regrettable sorrow, as her frail head leaned heavily upon his lead’s clavicle, panting.
Ah ah, ah ah. Ah ah, ah ah. Ah ah, ah ah.
Weakly, her inky mob melted with igneous and congealed congeniality. The gaggle of gangsters, her hips and lap, finally arrested as her gaze razed the sheep in ferine garb.
The blonde woman listened to the beholder as he spoke, and when he asked as to whether they looked like the kind of people who worked as cartographers for a merchant, she shook her head. She bit her bottom lip and she answered hesitantly, "I...may have accidentally skipped the Investigation process. Sounded like there was a time limit..." Her face turned a little red from the slight embarrassment. Maybe she was a little too eager to get the mission done.
Her eyes were then drawn towards the entrance where the woman, beholder, and tiger came from, and spotted movement. There were two figures, one a blue skinned woman, and the other a man who held her in his arms. The blonde woman's face morphed from slight embarrassment to one of pure confusion as she watched the two twirl around into the room. With an eyebrow rising she looked to the tattooed Jill and the beholder and she bluntly asked, her voice showing curiosity and confusion "Uh...Did my presence interrupt something?"
Who in the world would be dancing like that in a place like this?!
She then shook her head as though she realized something and amended "You know what? Never mind that last question. It's probably a private matter, I shouldn't pry,"
Cynthia chuckled at Adrevz's comment. "Probably the former," she replied as she leaned against the wall. There was little for her to do without aid being requested first. If this group wanted to bring on another ally, they may. It didn't affect her one way or another, and an extra person might even help them complete this mission.
Jill on the other hand swam forward. "One of us should probably help her out, right?" she suggested. "Once you're out, maybe give us your name? Tell us what you do?" She then produced the emblem from the Theullai. "He gave us this symbol to help show our way, but so far it's given us little but trouble. Do you recognize it?"
The display from Koan and the other aasimar simply drew a sigh from her as she shook her head. Perhaps leaving the Darkness active would have been better so that no one would have had to see that. "In any case, we should move on soon. Those guardians certainly can't be the only creatures in this place."
The woman looked to Jill when she swam up and spoke. The blonde nodded her head and answered "Yes! Definitely!" When Jill showed the emblem and asked if she recognized, the blonde nodded once more and told her, "I do!" She then lowered the collar of her grayish black cloak and showed the group her Necklace of Adaptation around her neck, and upon that necklace was the same emblem that the Theullai gave them. She then commented before she let the collar move back to it's place, "Looks like we're on the same team,"
The woman nodded and said "Agreed. And let's hurry! Before any one of them decides to check this place!" As the woman made that eager suggestion, she slammed her a flat palm against one of the stalagmites as hard as possible, only for it to crack (Athletics Check 1 - 21). The stalagmite still holds but it was starting to crumble from that hit. The blonde stared at the stalagmite with a deadpan look that can be as "I don't know if I should laugh, or feel really insulted," and she couldn't help but let out a "You've gotta be kidding me...!"
She then tried the same strike again (Athletics Check 2 - 7), only for it be a significantly weaker strike than the first one. It was barely a tickle! She tried again for the third strike, this time balling up her hand into a fist (Athletics Check 3 - Nat 20 -- 26), and she let out a shout before she punched what appeared to be the weakest spot in the stalagmite bars. However, after she did, a noise reached her ears. Something was approaching.
As we worked to free the newcomer from her prison, the crashing and breaking of rock seemed to grab the attention of some nearby guardians of the Verdant Stream. Before we could finish getting the unnamed ally free, the sound of clanking metal could be heard approaching. That by itself was a bit confusing, as it sounded like armored soldiers marching along.
Sure enough, our foes approached from the south bend. Two soldiers approached, armored to the hilt and brandishing glaives... while marching on the floor of the tunnel. As they came closer, it became obvious that these were no soldiers, but rather mechanical automatons of some sort. It would be nearly impossible to squeeze past them...
All appeared quiet on the western front, as the duo waltzed in, fully absorbing the adjacent barren nook.
With the draconic mystic nowhere to be discovered, only the crew of the S.S. Lady Slipper was left, seemingly amassed near another cranny riddled with stalagmites. The final stages of an apparent interrogation transpired as Jill revealed the medallion, given by Bledig, to an unseen person of interest, swaying its pendulous weight with purpose and pride. A reply rippled its rebuttal, clear and cold as fear and gold, to their captain.
“Looks like we're on the same team.”
Soon, thereafter, three thunderous crows of blows upon stone betrayed their positions. The jester sensed the excitement of likely another playmate entering the mix, but quickly was intercepted by a rivaling sight of metallic sentries, trotting in unison to an invisible drummer. The blue geisha raised her hand in effort to garner attention. Yet, Koan was easily ignored, similar to the tale of that annoying boy that cried Theullai. Nippily, an additional upper extremity ascended in accord, but no one gave it mind nor acted as if anything was out of the ordinary, belonging and blending into the walls, like a Fuzzy-Wuzzy marching straight out from the tainted pages of a forgotten Kipling ballad.
“Um. Then, who are they? Are they our opponents?”
She continued to point and jab to gather awareness to the show-worthy jeopardy soon to befall them. The flaunting glaives glimmering off the chrome suggested danger and endangerment. No matter if the cobalt contortionist was unheeded; this was a moment to demonstrate her worth once more. Serendipity smiled upon Sauron's giggling smurfette, allowing her to harvest yet another crimson badge of courage, assuming blood could be spilt.
At any rate, there wasn’t any time to waste or fun to lose.
The cerulean comic spun and spun, like an Olympic whirling dervish, eventually tossing a bright pink lob, landing upon and flushing a single line of the couplet of automatons.
“I got one, Noriam! Time to reel’em in!”
While still revolving as a cyclonic rotary, a tornadic pair of rays, curved, fast and whelmed with Eldritch energy, sank into the pocket of the now rosy machine. The cemented smirk on the fool’s visage, began to decrescendo as her umpire eyes, despite landing her pitched strikes, reaped their persistent staccato pace.
Still towards them and their makeshift base.
“Guys, um, they're up to bat.” She exclaimed, near Cynthia, as she took nearby cover behind their friendly neighborhood azure tiger.
Koan's Action: Faerie Fire on one of the Monsters. Wild Mage Surge triggers granting Disadvantage to Spell Saves the next minute to enemies. Two rays of Eldritch Blast is Quickened on the Automaton that is engulfed in pink Faerie Fire, dealing a mere 12 damage. She finishes her movement next to Cynthia.
Koan has 10/43 HP.
3/4 First level spell slots. 0/3 Second Level Spell Slots left. 3/3 Third level Spell Slots.
Those knights didn't look pleasant to deal with, and Jill had allies that would be much more effective near them. Speaking of allies, Jill whispered a few encouraging words towards Dyn, brushing her hand gently along one of his tentacles. However, seeing that Koan was hurt, Jill retreated slightly to cast a curing spell on the drow, leaving Dyn to man the frontlines himself.
Bonus Action to inspire Dyn - Add a 1d10 to an ability check, attack roll, or saving throw within the next 10 minutes.
Action to cast a lvl 2 Cure Wounds on Koan for 16 HP.
@The Grey Dust - Noriam moves two spaces to the east of Dyn and draws his Shadowblade.
Cynthia sees the enemies and grins back at the group. "Time for some fun!" she calls out before giving out a primal yell, beginning a Rage, and dashing forward. As she approached, both Templars were able to use their Attacks of Opportunity to hit her. One of them scores a crit as she wasn't expecting such an attack, dealing 22 damage, reduced to 11 from her rage. As she rounded the corner, her eyes widened. "Shit! It's a kraken!" she called back.
The two Templars whirled their glaives about, each attacking Cynthia three times. Out of all six attacks, only one managed to pierce her defenses, dealing a paltry 6 damage, halved to 3.
It was clear that it would take more hits than they could probably afford to break what bared the new female from exiting her cell. It was annoying to say the least, as she seemed to have the strength of a wet noodle after the wounds, healed as they were, she had gotten from the Cerberus that had attacked them not too long ago. Let out a grumble, seeing as Cynthia had darted off to assist with the fight that lay ahead of him, the large tiger gave Alexis a meaningful look. She could not speak to the woman it seemed, but maybe she could put across through a look that she had no intention of harming the female with the plan she had just come up with. Letting out a noise, halfway between a rumble and a grunt, she placed her huge paw against the barrier that kept the other woman confined and gave her a pointed look. She wanted Alexis to touch her paw, if she chose to do so, then she would change the woman into a fish that would be able to slip thought and once she had the time, she would drop the spell so she would be free to do as she needed. If she chose not to, then she would have to try to force it upon her, she much rather just have the woman chose to do so of her own free will. They did not have much time before she would have to go and assist with the battle ahead, Cynthia was there and she did not like that the woman was more or less by herself, against a Kraken no less.
The magnificent Dyn'yer'zhead had a solid plan of action, something that would not change simply because somebody ran onto his path. The void left by Jill's retreat from his side was soon filled by the arrival of Sauron, but it was the merfolk guide of theirs rushing ahead who would have put a hamper on the Bladesinger's plans... if he had cared. However, he was forced to do so when he received the news of further opponents before them. A Kraken, by the words of the woman. Whether she was out of her mind or the crew was out of their depth. Maybe a bit of both. But Dyn, no challenge would be too great for him. Oh, he would have to prepare the stage for the giant creature, to make sure his spells would sport their maximum effectiveness. To start off, he needed to incapacitate the opponents he could see now, to make sure they would be ripe for picking in just a moment.
His special eyepatch gleamed as he murmured the word "Flummox", releasing sphere of mind-altering energies next to Cynthia, the magic affecting both those of magical and mundane disposition alike... if it only wasn't for the fact that the only one he could see was affected was their ally. Curse these feeble minded goons that fate kept slinging his way! Could he not, for once, find someone reliable?! The fact the opposition seemed to shrug his magic off helped none and he begrudgingly released Cynthia's mind from his grasp. No matter. His target laid yet beyond the corner. There would be another time when he could use his full power.
Dyn casts Confusion so that the area includes Cynthia and the two sentinels. Cynthia fails her save. The enemies don't. Concentration on spell is dropped.
Everything fell into chaos so quickly. The woman looked to the side to see two heavily guards appear. As they came closer, it was apparent that these were not people, but automatons. She watched as the mermaid charged forwards and heard her call out that there was a kraken around the corner. The warning snapped the woman out of the stupor and she looked around her cell for a moment before looking to the tiger who stuck the paw into the cell. She couldn't tell what the tiger wanted to do really, but it was clear that the tiger was intelligent and was with the people who wanted to get her out of the cell. After grabbing a rock with one hand, she looked to tiger and commented "I don't exactly know what you want me to do, but I'll give this a shot," She then touched the tiger's paw with a free hand.
Her eyes widened when she felt magic surge from the tiger and start to affect her body. She instinctually tried to resist the magic, but the surprise of the sudden spell did not help her. She felt herself shrink down to size, and before she knew it, she had fins and was much smaller than she was before.
Oh...No...
She was a fish. She quickly swam out of her cell, and she swam next to the tiger. She looked to the tiger, hoping that her fishy eyes would convey the fact that she wanted to be human again, as soon as possible.
