Basalt Isle Raid

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Introduction

A record of the messaging and mechanics associated with the amazingly executed Basalt Isle raid that took place on day 236 in the month of Arhat the Fire Lion, year 439 after the victory of Lanival (2 Oct, 2021).

A summary leading up this event can be found at The Assault on Basalt Isle thanks to Dantia.

Demonic Altars

As part of the buildup the week prior to the raid, Sivroch placed demonic altars in front of cities that could be empowered or destroyed.

Antrayelsis

a battle altar made of rippling stone

LOOK ALTAR:

A twisted structure formed from rippling stone, this short, squat altar bears countless eyes molded into it's surfaces. The eyes appear to change in shape, size, and location whenver you glance away. You believe you could STUDY it to learn more.

STUDY ALTAR:

You believe you could PRAY at the altar to further its purpose, and you are confident He is watching. You are filled with a sense of anticipation.

FOCUS ALTAR:

You focus your magical senses on a battle altar made of rippling stone.

You sense immense magics spiraling around the altar, as if something was watching.

PRAY ALTAR:

You feel a connection with Antrayelsis, and without conscious thought, you find yourself invoking a prayer in the name of the Defiler. Your vision fills with countless eyes, each blinking open and focusing on you, scrutinizing your every move and thought. You are confident that your petition to empower His forces was heard, and sense that he has been afforded a fraction of additional freedom.

Gwulach

a battle altar made of a strangely glassy material

LOOK ALTAR:

Buried within the strangely glassy material of the altar is the rippling image of a stylized eyeless face frozen in mid-scream, which seems to follow you. You believe you could STUDY it to learn more.

STUDY ALTAR:

You believe you could PRAY at the altar to further its purpose, the promise of strength/power/wisdom/fearlessness tantalizingly possible/close/undeniable, and you are confident something is nearby and ready. The altar appears unyielding.

FOCUS ALTAR:

You focus your magical senses on a battle altar made of a strangely glassy material.

You sense immense magics spiraling around the altar, as if something was nearby, inhaling from everything present.

PRAY ALTAR:

You feel a connection with something here, but cannot identify what it is. Without conscious thought, you find yourself invoking a blasphemous prayer to a being known as the Drinker of Minds, and a string of incomprehensible words come to your lips as if they were something that could be understood. You find yourself deeply aware of the cracks in the cobblestones and the passage of time/magic through the whims of those in power, the parasitic wasp laying its eggs in the caterpillar/hunter's eyes/void, and feel your mind/body/spirit roar with untapped power. You are confident that your petition to empower Her was heard, and feel stronger/drained beyond measure.

Bynaikae

a battle altar made of a mound of flesh and sinew

LOOK ALTAR:

Made of pulsating, breathing, and flexing sinew and other various parts, the altar seems to breathe as it observes the room. You believe you could PRAY to further the altar, or PULL from it to refuse it. You believe you could STUDY it to learn more.

STUDY ALTAR:

The altar beckons you close, offers Oneness, togetherness. You recall that the altar is dedicated to the being known as The Manifold, and believe you could PRAY at the altar to belong to it and for it to belong to you. The altar appears unyielding.

FOCUS ALTAR:

You focus your magical senses on a battle altar made of a mound of flesh and sinew.

You sense immense magics spiraling around the altar, as if something was nearby, yearning to join with you, with everything.

PRAY ALTAR:

You feel a connection with something here. Without conscious thought, you find yourself invoking a blasphemous prayer to a being known as the Manifold, and a string of incomprehensible words come to your lips as if they were something that could be understood. You lay your hand on the altars surface, feel tendrils worm their way into your flesh, and you are One and together and Them and complete and whole and you recall bloated suns and orange skies and the comfort of the eons as many. They are yours and you are Theirs and as you pull your hand away the tendrils retract, leaving you alone and hungry.

Skairelden

a battle altar made of shaped bone

LOOK ALTAR:

A twisted structure formed from shaped bone, this six-hands-high altar has been sculpted into the figure of a skull. The jaw of the skull yawns wide to accommodate a heavy anvil. You believe you could STUDY it to learn more.

STUDY ALTAR:

The altar speaks of hard work, a task accomplished, a tool designed to fulfill a purpose. You are unclear what the tool is, but this altar is the fulcrum. You recall that the altar is dedicated to the being known as The Forge, and believe you could PRAY at the altar to support the designs. The altar appears unyielding.

FOCUS ALTAR:

You focus your magical senses on a battle altar made of shaped bone.

You sense immense magics spiraling around the altar, as if something was nearby and ready to shape, mold, and build.

PRAY ALTAR:

You feel a connection with something here. Without conscious thought, you find yourself invoking a blasphemous prayer to a being known as the Forge, and a string of incomprehensible words come to your lips as if they were something that could be understood. You clench your fist, and remember the merits of rough callouses, measuring twice before you cut, and with a sharp wrenching sensation you feel a hammer strike an anvil and are certain that She has noted your craft with the barest nod of respect. Her creations will blanket the land, her weapons will lay waste your foes. Several inspirations spring to mind.

Precipice Over the Unknown

A few days before the actual Raid (on 25 Arhat 439 / 29 Sept, 2021), Sivroch summoned all of the necromancers loyal to Jeihrem to an area just east of Shard. From that location she re-summoned (or recreated) the demonic altars, and a ritual was performed to open up a passageway.

Opening the Passage

Sivroch slams her hands into the ground, her arms rippling like water. She grits her teeth and snarls, and you feel the ground shake!

Sivroch's arms continue to ripple, her eyes momentarily flashing red, and she begins to pull upward, her feet clawing at the ground. Four structures begin to rise from the ground!

Sivroch continues to heave against the altars, and with a polyphonous wail, the altars snap into place! For a moment, Sivroch looks pleased with herself, smiling softly as she looks at each altar in turn.

[Prairie, Prairie Dog Town]
A prairie dog sentinel carefully watches the borders of his town. Every so often, he flicks his tail and the other dogs in the area pause. When he gives no additional signals of danger, they continue with their activities. Some are eating grasses, while others are grooming one another. A couple are even busy digging a new mound.
You also see a battle altar made of rippling stone, a battle altar made of a strangely glassy material, a battle altar made of a mound of flesh and sinew and a battle altar made of shaped bone.
Also here: [Several necromancers] and Demonologist Sivroch.
Obvious paths: southeast.

Sivroch says, "These altars will not shatter. They will pierce the boundary between where we stand and where we must fight. They will aid Jeihrem in securing the isle. They will show you of what may yet come."

Sivroch says, "You each have before you your own path, your own ambitions and motivations. You may choose any of these altars to support. It is not a dedication, but the recognition of a shared purpose. These four heard my call and responded first, but next time, Others may lend their strength."

Sivroch says, "'Antrayelsis, Skairelden, Bynaikae, Gwulach. Pray to them now, in action or in words, and we shall finish this step of the ritual."

[Several minutes of rituals.]

The altars begin to secrete a thick ichor. The liquid pools and flows along the ground, congealing into a thick puddle at the center of the four altars.

The secretion intensifies to a steady flow, and a large mass begins to rise from the gathered puddle.

Completely enveloped in a deluge of ichor, the altars appear to be little more than four short columns of goo. As the mass continues to grow, a sphere rises from the puddle, hissing and steaming as it gathers more liquid.

The deluge ceases, the the fluid pulling clear of the altars, revealing their surfaces once again, as the last of the ichor flows into the rising sphere, the structure rumbles slightly and lifts into the air, pulling the remaining liquid upward with a crackling *squelch*.

LOOK SPHERE:

Standing as high as a Gor'Tog, the sphere hovers a few feet above the ground, dripping quickly evaporating ichor. Strangely, the black sludge also congeals at the apex, droplets rising upward and scattering. Internal forces push and churn at the spheres surface, and you are certain this is a Necromantic creation.

Sivroch says, "This step is complete. Enter the sphere at your leisure. I will return to Basalt Isle to assist Lord Jeihrem in the final preparations."

Demonologist Sivroch went through a large sphere of hissing ichor.

GO SPHERE:

[Precipice Over the Unknown]
The air surrounding this precipice is thick and acrid, a choking bilious smog rippling in unseen currents. A massive, smoke-clogged chasm opens to the north. To the south, a shear rock face stretches above, fading into an orange sky that is dominated by a bloated red sun that casts a sickly light. An enormous form slowly soars in the skies, periodically casting harsh beams of light in a zigzag pattern. Whispers endlessly echo throughout the area, and shadows flit along the rock face, hiding within tiny crevices.
You also see a pair of hissing ichor hemispheres.
Also here: [Several necromancers] and Demonologist Sivroch.
Obvious exits: east, west.

Sivroch says, "Lord Jeihrem and I felt this would aid us in the fight to come. An easy means to travel between the main land and our isle."

Sivroch says to [Necromancer], "Only those who understand the process of undeath, those who are Necromancers, may pass. It is stable - the Inquisition, the fools, the Immortals, they are powerless to remove it for now."

PEER EAST
You peer east and see ...

[Prairie, Prairie Dog Town]
A prairie dog sentinel carefully watches the borders of his town. Every so often, he flicks his tail and the other dogs in the area pause. When he gives no additional signals of danger, they continue with their activities. Some are eating grasses, while others are grooming one another. A couple are even busy digging a new mound.
You also see a large sphere of hissing ichor, a battle altar made of rippling stone, a battle altar made of a strangely glassy material, a battle altar made of a mound of flesh and sinew and a battle altar made of shaped bone.
Obvious paths: southeast.

PEER WEST
You peer west and see ...

[Basalt Isle, Field of Rubble]
A lone, roofless stone hut stands defiant against the continual assault of the inclement weather, sturdy and nearly intact despite its age. Other ruins line the otherwise flat field, most of their stones blackened and reduced to their ruined foundations. Scraggly trees poke through the edges of the field, though seems to grow here, only a few hardy plants continuing to valiantly make the attempt.
You also see a large sphere of hissing ichor.
Obvious paths: northeast, west.

Closing the Passage

On 26 Lirisa 440 (8 Dec, 2021), Sivroch called Lord Jeihrem's supporters back to the Precipice.

She shared the news that Jeihrem had returned to his throne room, and that access to the Precipice would be cut off.

Sivroch says, "Where we stand now will no longer be available to you in its current form. This space is being... repurposed. I have plans for it, plans that They will be deeply involved in."

Sivroch says, "When you leave this space, you will be unable to return. For now."

The Void

This was in the main saferoom for the Defenders to interact with.

a yawning void torn in the fabric of reality

EXAMINE VOID:

A whirlpool of steaming ichor, the yawning void pulses as it spins, rhythmically growing and shrinking by several feet. You believe you could STUDY it to learn more.

STUDY VOID:

You understand some of the shape of this tear in reality, and see how it may be manipulated. You believe you could TOUCH the void to send a piece of yourself into it, INHALE to bring Them into yourself, or WAVE to direct an extension in support of the defenders.

TOUCH VOID:

You reach forward, feeling the gap and sensing Them laying beyond, ready and waiting. As you extend your awareness into the void, They eagerly reach and grab, pulling your awareness to Them.

Everything changes.

There is madness here, unbound chaos and crackling mutability, possibility, and power. They show you eternity, borrowing your mind to fuel Their engines and pour more of themselves through the void. The connection severs, and you struggle a moment to suffer through a pounding headache as you gather yourself.

(also gave head wounds)

INHALE VOID:

Leaning forward you take a deep breath, inhaling the steaming space of the void deep into your lungs. It tastes of sweet apples and burnt meat, and suddenly you feel something clawing its way down your throat.

Everything changes.

Your vision spirals wildly and pulls to a distant horizon point. Far away, you feel Them, racing towards you, empowered for the stability and structured flesh of your lungs. They grow closer, when you find yourself exhaling sharply and coughing as you draw fresh air, and the connection severs.

(also gave chest wounds)

WAVE VOID:

Waving your hand high in the air, the void ripples in response, a long pseudopod extending outward. Guiding the tendril, you direct it upward and towards the field of battle. The wavering tendril grows translucent and stretches needle thin as it whips towards battlefield. Though you quickly lose sight of it, after a moment, you sense that it has latched onto something, and watch as material begins to be pumped along the tendril, across the distance.

Undead Creation

This was in another room that the Defenders had access to.

a pile of dismembered parts

EXAMINE PARTS:

A collection of dismembered limbs, torsos and heads, the origins of which seem to be primarily recently drowned sailors. Various marine parasites are slowly consuming the corpseflesh -- scuttling crabs, burrowing sandfleas, and writhing worms move on and around the pile. A pile of salt nearby suggests some effort was taken to preserve the parts, next to which rests a chirugeon's toolkit.

STUDY PARTS:

Looking over the pile of parts, you believe you could CLEAN it to get rid of some scavengers and make the parts more accessible, PUSH it to stitch some collected parts together, or EXHALE life into the pile to complete the animation process.

CLEAN PARTS:

Not sure where to begin, you poke through the assorted parts searching for inspiration. A leg with shark teeth buried in the calf looks to be in fairly good shape. Some kind of segmented worm has taken up residence in the eye socket of its half-decayed head, though the material looks usable. You push some scavengers aside, and do your part by gathering a handful of salt and sprinkling it over the pile. You organize the pile a bit and when you finish, the parts look more accessibly usable for assembly.

PUSH PARTS:

Grabbing a needle and thread from the chirugeons toolkit, you gather an assortment of parts, brushing aside a sandflea as you set to work assembling a multi-limbed monstrosity. Pausing every so often to check your handiwork, you finalize even stitchwork and kneeling before the monstrosity, carefully carve a ritual design across a handspan of its body. You stand up satisfied that you have prepared it to arise as one of the undead, and lay the assembled body aside for completion.

EXHALE PARTS:

You sense a swell of arcane energy available nearby, and feel a slight pressure behind the eyes as you redirect it along ritual lines cut into one of the arrayed bodies, and you connect each essential node in turn. Abruptly the power surges forth, a dam bursting as wild torrents stream into the body! You siphon off a tiny fraction of the energy and direct it into reconstructing damaged tissue, the body's flesh knitting together before your eyes. The creature's recumbent form jerks once and then, as if awakening from slumber, its eyes snap open. Flexing with newfound strength, the zombie levers itself upright and shambles off to join the fight!

Demonic Tests

Arensirk

Arensirk's Game
Nothing makes sense, and there is no truth. The ground is up, the air is water, your name is not XXXX and you are not on Basalt Isle. In fact, the only thing you are sure of is that you find yourself...

You feel yourself being pulled away...

[Maze of Deceit, Arensirk's Game]
You stand in the midst of a large lecture hall, surrounded by faceless figures passionately debating something highly technical. One figure holds a small whirring device and waves it angrily in the face of another, who points to the ground and shouts back in anger. A group points out a nearby window and argues over the color of the orange hued sky. As the debate continues, it becomes clear that all positions are represented, and all are held with equal conviction.
You also see a simple lectern before a group of figures.
Obvious exits: obscured by a thick fog

LOOK LECTERN:

Plainly constructed, the lectern holds notes for a series of lectures. A small gathering of figures cluster around the lectern. You believe you could STUDY the lectern to learn more.

STUDY LECTERN:

The lectern is unadorned, a simple platform providing storage for a stack of papers and lecture notes. You believe you could PUSH the lectern to pick up one of the lectures and deliver it, POINT to the lectern to accuse one of the figures of dishonesty, or LEAN on the lectern to try a different tact and speak the truth.

PUSH LECTERN:

Looking over the lectern, you see an account of a kingdom's financials. Reports on the flow of grain and ore, taxes raised and expenses paid are all neatly tallied, with summary statements provided in following pages.

One of the figures standing before the lectern loudly clears her throat expectantly, and you hastily begin calling for an audit, reminding the assembled figures of the meaningless nature of money and the illogical choice of making decisions without more information into the kingdoms financials. The figures all begin to argue, and you smile to yourself.

POINT LECTERN:

Standing in the crowd of figures, you look around a moment and point to the man standing behind the lectern, and accuse them of dishonestly representing their case to further the needs of undisclosed interests! The man glares at you angrily and returns the accusation, claiming that they have only ever represented the pursuit of the truth! The figures all begin to argue, and you smile to yourself.

Others see:

XXXX points at the man/woman standing at the lectern and accuses him/her of lying! The man/woman returns the accusation, and the figures gathered around the lectern begin to argue. XXXX smiles slightly.

LEAN LECTERN:

Looking around, you realize that this is all an illusion, and speak to the need to band together and recognize the veneer of lies. The assembled figures begin to laugh and mock, the attempt to draw your ire futile and petty. You continue calling attention to the obviousness of the wholecloth fabrications and absurd claims being raised, when suddenly, the scene freezes, stuttering momentarily, and everything begins to fade.

Bynaikae

Bynaikae's Feast
Suddenly, thick burls of fat, muscle, and sinew explode from the ground and wrap around your body, enclosing you in a tight cocoon! Surrounded by darkness, you hear whispering, promises of inclusion and secrets long forgotten, and claw and spine and tooth and nail rasp along your skin, tendrils worming into your mouth and nose. You feel a thundering heartbeat, and find yourself...

You feel yourself being pulled away...

[Maze of Flesh, Bynaikae's Feast]
You stand in the midst of a small cavern, every surface lined with still very much alive flesh -- stretched eyeballs blinking in confusion, a disfigured mouth gasping for breath between spiraling teeth, ears sprouting fingers that clench and unclench. It becomes impossible to keep track of the arrayed horrors. Whispers echo all around the cavern, recollections of experiences utterly foreign but disturbingly familiar. You begin to lose your place, to forget being alone in your skin, and have a strange desire to hug the walls, to lean into the comfort of the many, to remember with Them.
You also see a mound of flesh.
Obvious exits: obscured by a thick fog

EXAMINE FLESH:

About as tall as a Human, the mound of flesh is composed of various body parts, and appears very much alive. Orifices drip ichor and quill like spines grow in various directions around calloused skin and boney plates. Eyes randomly dot the mound and blink at you in curiosity, while a faint wheezing that could either be laughter or attempts to speak seem to emanate from a series of structures that are either gills or exposed brains. You believe you could STUDY the flesh to learn more.

STUDY FLESH:

The vile mound of flesh quivers as it senses you studying it, and the walls pulsate in response. You believe you could PUNCH the flesh to fight its pull, HUG it to embrace all that it offers, or BLANCH in disgust.

HUG FLESH:

Giving into the desire of Oneness, you wrap your arms around the mound of flesh, pressing your face against the warm side of the vile creation. There is comfort here, memories of a time when you were many, They were complete, and They were everything. You feel your face begin to dissolve, and with a start, pull back, tearing at tendrils that were prying into your flesh, ripping skin that had begun to merge with the mound. You feel ill, and realize that was a terrible idea.

Others see:

XXXX hugs the mound, pressing his/her face against its flesh. Smiling slightly, he/she closes his/her eyes. Suddenly, XXXX jerks back, a spray of blood flying from the torn flesh of his/her face!

BLANCH FLESH:

You turn and retch, disgusted at this space! You feel Them laughing, welcoming, beckoning you, promising that there is no pain or suffering, all you need to do is embrace Them, become One with Them. They are near and They are you and you could be of Them and there will be untold wonder as They share in all things and welcome all. You feel ill, as if the illusion has strengthened.

Others see:

XXXX turns and retches, looking around in wide-eyed terror!

PUNCH FLESH:

You swing at the mound of flesh and feel your fist slam into the meaty protrusion, eliciting a loud *thud* as the mound shakes and seems to lean away from you. As you watch the flesh rearrange you resist the urge to vomit, though you are certain you have damaged the vile creation.

Others see:

XXXX punches the mound of flesh, which twitches and squeals! XXXX looks ill, though the mound looks worse for the exchange.

PUNCH FLESH:

You swing at the mound of flesh and feel your fist slam into the meaty protrusion, eliciting a loud *thud* as the mound shakes and seems to lean away from you. As you watch the flesh rearrange and harden, and you resist the urge to vomit, though you are certain you have damaged the vile creation.

Others see:

XXXX punches the mound of flesh, which twitches and squeals! XXXX looks ill, though the mound looks worse for the exchange.

PUNCH FLESH:

You swing at the mound of flesh and feel your fist slam into the meaty protrusion, tearing into the surface of the mound! As you force yourself into the wound, you see the broken edges of the illusion of this space, and you find yourself squirming through a tunnel of viscera and ichor! You hear Them whispering, promising a return to when you were complete, safe, whole, threatening that you cannot leave, cannot escape, will always belong to Them, when suddenly you find yourself...

Others see:

XXXX punches the mound of flesh, tearing into it! Forcing his/her way into the open wound, XXXX disappears! The mound of flesh shakes a moment, and then the gaping wound heals without a trace. You sense that XXXX has somehow escaped.

Arriving:

A bloody tear in reality forms nearby, and XXXX forces their way through! Wide-eyed and covered in rapidly evaporating ichor, he/she looks shocked and disoriented!

Eacerikh

Eacerikh's Replacement
You suddenly smell a wild bouquet of fragrant flowers, pollen wafting across on the breeze. You spread your arms wide, inhaling deeply of the rich aroma, and suddenly find yourself...

You feel yourself being pulled away...

[Maze of Cycles, Eacerikh's Replacement]
You stand in the midst of a field of grass, wildflowers blooming and dying in a rapid loop of birth and decay. The ground cracks and groans with the endless churn, seedlings erupting from the loam, unfurling leaf and brilliant petal, retreating to seed pod which hardens and drops, and the flower rapidly decays moments the process repeats. Skeletons are spread throughout the field, the flowers growing around and through gaps in ribs and empty eyes. A stiff breeze flows around the area, bringing scents you have never experienced but find extremely familiar.
You also see a wildflower bearing both brilliant petals and hardening seeds.
Obvious exits: obscured by a thick fog

LOOK WILDFLOWER:

Growing vivaciously in this strange place, the wildflower looks like it expects you to do something. You believe you could STUDY the wildflower to learn more.

STUDY WILDFLOWER:

The wildflower sways gently in the breeze, its petals vibrantly colored and its clustered seedpods maturing before your eyes. You believe you could PUSH the wildflower to assist in its germination, PULL the flower to grab some seed pods and spread them around, or LEAN towards the flower crush it and prevent it from spreading.

PUSH WILDFLOWER:

You grab the wildflowers blossoms and press them together, assisting in the flowers germination. Before your very eyes, the petals wither and die, enclosing around a tight seedpod which falls to the ground. Moments later, a small seedling pushes upward, reaching for the sky and spreading flower buds. Maturing rapidly, the wildflower blossoms, and the air fills with an intoxicating scent.

PULL WILDFLOWER:

You grab the seedpods of the wildflower and cast them in the field before you. Before your very eyes, several seedlings erupt from the ground and blossom, filling the air with an intoxicating scent.

LEAN WILDFLOWER:

You lean forward and crush the wildflower, grinding the blossoms and seed pods into a sticky goo. The wildflower withers and dies, unable to continue its unnatural propagation. The air smells sterile and clean, and suddenly, you find yourself...

Gwulach

Gwulach's Indulgence

Rage! You are filled with consuming hatred and loathing for everyone, everything, and you will see it all burn! Your muscles strain, creaking and popping as your heart races faster and faster, and you see the blame, the fault of the trees reaching for the light that should be yours despite the audacity of those that would steal from you and the dragons that left us, when suddenly, you find yourself...

[Maze of Madness, Gwulach's Indulgence]
You stand in the midst of a howling storm, purple energy crackling spasmodically along streamers of ember and ash. In the distance, there is nothing but fire and lightning in all directions. The ground is cracked, shifting blocks of stone flowing and churning in an impossible to follow landscape that makes orienting difficult. Above, a massive face hovers, mouth stretched horrifically wide as it inhales deeply, gathering the maelstrom. Furious eyes glare down, challenging all who would oppose the unrelenting chaos.
You also see a massive face staring down from above.
Obvious exits: obscured by a thick fog

EXAMINE FACE:

Seemingly made of flowing gold, the face oozes malevolence. Inky blackness within the eyes and mouth occasionally flicker with movement. You believe you could STUDY the face to learn more.

STUDY FACE:

The face hovers above, monstrous and terrifying, mouth open as it inhales the crackling maelstrom. You believe you could HUG the face to open yourself to its fury, PUSH the face to lend your own madness to its siphon, or POINT at the face to denounce the chaos and make your stand.

HUG FACE:

Spreading your arms, you allow the maelstrom to whip around your body and gaze into the open mouth of the face as it siphons the storm. You feel yourself growing lighter, sailing upward, suffused with unimaginable power as you grow increasingly disoriented.

They are here now and you will use Them for the end purpose of the sweeping the Plane of Their tormented desires to change/revise/reshape everything to Their will/want/way/whimsy. Sinking into the sky you scream against the uncertainty/certainty of the rules/lines/demands that compose their sweep.

The mouth opens wider and bares pointed teeth/hands/thorns and there are faces within faces within faces within faces within faces... You feel yourself slipping/falling/calming, though your head throbs in agony.

Others see:

XXXX opens their arms wide and begins to babble incoherently. After some time, they wince and rub their temples.

PUSH FACE:

Lending your own madness/brilliance/un/certainty you push/scream/offer yourself to the face and the maelstrom, feeling the winds push/pull/sweep/surge/disagree around your body. You feel it clearly, the choices available to you now, freed/grown beyond the limitations of a mind bound by rules. You feel yourself falling/rising and see shifting geometries merging and melding, stone blocks colliding and rippling into fractal columns.

The mouth opens wider as the empty eye sockets erupt with reaching hands and you speak of the sun, the moons, your exploits growing and learning and deciding and shaping and you begin to laugh uproariously with the exploits of everything/nothing... You feel yourself slipping/falling/calming, though your head throbs in agony.

Others see:

XXXX pushes forward and begins to babble incoherently. After some time, they wince and rub their temples.

POINT FACE:

There is madness here, but you see through the illusion and false promises. You point your finger at the face and reject its manipulations, assured in your own mind and sanity.

The face freezes, shuddering in place, and the maelstrom feels like nothing more than a light breeze.

You suddenly find yourself...

Others see:

XXXX points at the face and begins to scream his/her name over and over. Suddenly, he/she vanishes!

Arriving:

A light breeze stirs the area, and suddenly you see XXXX nearby blinking in confusion!

Nricacsha

Nricacsha's Appetite

You suddenly feel ravenously hungry! Your stomach knots in profoundly empty agony, and you are filled with a desire to consume everything! Ash and cinder billow around you, and you find yourself...

You feel yourself being pulled away...

(Third Person Messaging)
Suddenly, XXXX leans back and roars in fury, muscles straining against taut skin, fists clenched with white knuckled rage! Spittle flies from clenched teeth, breath coming in heaving, ragged, desperate gasps! XXXX begins to babble incoherently, ranting about the trees, waves, sun, taxes, and dragons, when suddenly, XXXX vanishes!

[Maze of Consumption, Nricacsha's Appetite]
You stand in the midst of a blasted wasteland, pillars of ash and charred trunks crumbling, the ground cracked and patched, the skies empty of cloud or starlight. An overturned wagon rests nearby, its cargo long since ransacked and scattered, its wheels rusted to little more than brittle flakes. Thunder rumbles in the distance, though it is impossible to tell from which direction it originated.
You also see a firepit covered in ash.
Obvious exits: obscured by a thick fog

EXAMINE FIREPIT:

A collection of burnt stones arranged loosely in a ring, the firepit is covered in dust and soot, a mound of choking ash covers a scattering of nearly spent coals and embers. Nearby sits a stack of dried wood. You believe you could STUDY the firepit to learn more.

STUDY FIREPIT:

The firepit is blasted and covered in soot and ash, and a faint breeze stirs fine dust across its surface. You believe you could PULL the nearby wood into the firepit to burn the remaining fuel, or CLEAN the firepit to sweep away the debris. You notice a few acorns near the pile of wood, and wonder if you could PUSH a small depression near the firepit to plant something for tomorrow.

PUSH FIREPIT:

You dig a small pit in the loose dirt around the firepit and carefully place an acorn at the bottom. Gently covering it in dirt, you place your hand over the ground and allow yourself the chance to hope for recovery. This place is wrong -- spent and exhausted. But it may be fixed.

The illusion cracks, beginning to evaporate. Thunder rumbles in the distance, though sounds hollow. Within the span of a blink, you find yourself...

PULL FIREPIT:

You grab a log from the pile and pull it over to the firepit, tucking it between smoldering embers. The dry log blazes with consuming flames, giving off an oily smoke that winds and coils curiously. As the log is subsumed, you inhale the smoke, and begin to cough, your lungs burning. Your vision momentarily skews as you hear Them closer.

Others see:

XXXX grabs a log from the pile and pulls it over to the firepit, tucking it between smoldering embers. The dry log blazes with consuming flames, giving off an oily smoke, and XXXX begins to cough.

(internal chest wounds)

PULL FIREPIT:

You grab a log from the pile and pull it over to the firepit, tucking it between smoldering embers. The dry log blazes with consuming flames, giving off a bizarrely dancing multi-colored flame. You find yourself both mesmerized and horrified, and kick the log to try and extinguish the otherworldly flames. The log crumbles as a spray of blue and green sparks explode upward, burning your face!

Others see:

XXXX grabs a log from the pile and pulls it over to the firepit, tucking it between smoldering embers. The dry log blazes with consuming flames, giving off a bizarrely dancing multi-colored flame. XXXX appears mesmerized and horrified, and kicks the log to try and extinguish the otherworldly flames. The log crumbles as a spray of blue and green sparks explode upward, burning his/her face!

(head wounds)

CLEAN FIREPIT:

With the side of your foot, you attempt to sweep the firepit clean of debris. As you kick dust and embers free, a cloud of acrid soot and sparks rise all around you, choking you. You are filled with a desire to burn everything, to expend all resources, to be the devouring flame. You cough, and your head feels a little clearer.

Pelsacahd

Pelsacahd's Nightmare
The air around you begins to ripple, and you find yourself surrounded by countless reflections of your smiling face. The reflections shatter, tumbling as they fall, and you find yourself...

You feel yourself being pulled away...

[Maze of Despair, Pelsacahd's Nightmare]
You stand in the midst of a vast desert, silver sands stretching in all directions and the faint glimmers of distant stars the only source of light. An endless horde of distorted reflections of what you could and may never be surrounds you, each bearing jaundiced and bloodshot eyes. Serving as a distorted caricature of your appearance, some are taller and spindly, stretched to great lengths, while others are squat and stout. Each stares directly at you, an unnatural wide grin stretched into a hideous mask, smirking with secret knowledge or madness. You are utterly alone here, dwarfed by the hideous mirrored images.
You also see a twisted reflection that vaguely resembles you.
Obvious exits: obscured by a thick fog

EXAMINE REFLECTION:

You look into your mirrored reflection.

What stands before you is a twisted reflection of a man/woman, a disfigured YourRace YourProfession that only looks vaguely familiar. Pronounced blood vessels form a network of red running through his/her eyes, with cloudy pools of red forming in each small sea of yellow. It peers curiously at you, mimicking your gestures and actions in exaggerated motions, its face twisted in a horrid mask of pain and euphoria.

A wicked smile stretches unnaturally from a distended grin, revealing concentric rows of tiny jagged teeth forming a formless maw, bearing thousands of consecutive needle-sharp teeth. You feel an intrinsic connection with the image, and feel that STUDY of the figure may help you leave. A pressure builds behind your eyes, as a dull soreness sets in.

Others see:

One of the reflections peers inquisitively at you, tilting its head at an impossible angle and making a facial expression that could either be a grin or a grimace.

(wounds)

STUDY REFLECTION:

You study the twisted reflection in front of you. It stares back at you, cracking a jagged grin of thousands of tiny needle-like teeth. It waves a taloned hand to you, beckoning you to TOUCH it and join the twisted sea of horrific fragments. The sea of reflections all watch you in rapt attention, forming a maze around you. You think that to escape the maze, you will need to FLEE the REFLECTION.

FLEE REFLECTION:

You turn to run from the reflection, sprinting through the maze in the hopes of finding an exit.

The reflections grasp at you as you pass, but you push forward through the maze. You find yourself lost, steadily losing something precious to you.

Others see:

One of the reflections fidgets, glancing at you as it breaks character for a moment, making a gesture that does not mirror your own.

FLEE REFLECTION:

You turn to run from the reflection, sprinting through the maze in the hopes of finding an exit.

The reflections grasp toward you as you pass, but you push forward through the maze. You find yourself lost, feeling as if you were losing memory of something you once loved.

Others see:

Each of the reflections mirrors your actions perfectly, creating an eerie sea of movement in response to your own.

FLEE REFLECTION:

You turn to run from the reflection, sprinting through the maze in the hopes of finding an exit.

The reflections grasp toward you as you pass, but you push forward through the maze. You find yourself lost, feeling as if you were losing memory of something you once hoped for.

Others see:

Some of the reflections appear to lengthen in appearance, stretching into tall, spindly creatures that tower over you.

FLEE REFLECTION:

You turn to run from the reflection, sprinting through the maze in the hopes of finding an exit.

The reflections grasp at you as you pass, but you push forward through the maze, finally finding a gap in the twisted reflections! You push your way out, and feel as if some sort of fog has lifted from your mind.

Others see:

One of the reflections moves erratically, seeming to twist and turn in a half-circle around you, as if pacing.

Arriving:

XXXX steps into the cavern in a daze, as if sleepwalking. With a jolt, he/she appears to come to his/her senses.

TOUCH REFLECTION:

You reach out to touch the reflection, feeling its fingertips against yours. For a moment, the connection is palpable, and your mind's eye flashes with myriad possibilities, fragments of twisted truths and things that could be mixed with things that never should. Something becomes alive in the connection, and you find yourself overwhelmed by countless realities, as for a moment, all of the reflections disappear and become a kaleidoscope of eyes, unblinking, jaundiced, and bloodshot. Your vision returns to the reflections, and you are left with an immense sense of loss, and dread for what you could become. Your senses are overcome with the urge to FLEE before the nightmare takes you.

Others see:

One of the reflections twists, flickering for a moment as it merges with another, the reflections intersecting and blending for a moment.

Jeihrem Messaging

The ground shakes, and a foul wind begins to blow across the land, smelling of rot and salt.

The ground and sea oozes with blood, sinew, and flesh, ropey burls of fat and meat bubbling up from the surface and evaporating into a choking maisma. Swirling around, the bloody mist arcs high into the air and gathers into a vile cloud above before extending tendrils down towards the manor.

The ground shakes again, and beyond the manor, a form begins to rise. Clad in black steel armor and trailing a greatcloak of billowing shadow, the form grows taller and taller.

A faint grinding can be felt as the ground shifts, and a field of bone slowly vibrates upward -- a jagged femur snapped in half, four ribs connected to a dozen vertebrae, a broken jaw with yellowed teeth, an intact skeletal hand clenched in a fist. The bones shiver, buzzing like a swarm of locusts, and are flung upward, spiralling towards the growing form beyond the manor.

As the tornado of blood and bone surge into Jeihrem, he continues to grow. A hundred feet. Two hundred. Jeihrem steps over his manor, a single step towards the beach. The ground shudders, sand sprays around his footfall. The black steel visor of his helm surveys the beach, and you feel his gaze like a physical force, a predatory being calmly assessing the best time to strike.

Jeihrem spreads his massive arms and absorbs the rest of the swirling gore. He takes another step forward, the ground shaking with his footfalls.

You hear the amplified voice of Zauldin shout across the valley, "Fire on Jeihrem! Man the weaponry, he is exposed, kill him now!"

Hefting a massive tyrium claymore inset with a skull for a crossguard, the gargantuan Jeihrem slams the blade into the ground. Hideous shadows tinged with sickening no-color spray outward from buried weapon.

From across the distance you hear Khoheke shout, "Paladins, to the Oshu'k'et! The time for Sanyu Aes is now!"

You can hear them, clamoring and emboldened, called to this weakened point in reality. The scream and howl, chattering and skittering and tooth and claw and maw and too many eyes begin to squirm through the fringe, along the edges.

Jeihrem looks down at the assembled forces, and dispassionately twists the blade, slashing sideways. A flare of void bursts forth from the blades wake, leaving a harsh afterglow in your vision. You struggle to make sense of the broken space left in the wake of the weapon, struggle to make sense of the forms clamoring at the edges, struggle to to shut out the conflicted screaming and otherworldly vantage visible through the orange haze beyond the gash in reality, struggle to view the no-color ripples billowing at the boundary.

A ceaseless horde pours forth from the rent, clawing and charging across the opening. They surge with an almost desperation, screaming against the new laws of this plane.

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and slam into Jeihrem's legs, exploding with deafening force! He does not appear to notice!

Jeihrem lifts a massive foot and takes a step forward, directly above! Under the shadow of his falling boot, you realize you better move quick to avoid getting crushed!

Jeihrem slams a massive boot into to the ground! You barely manage to jump out of the way in time, but rock and sand explodes outward! The impact of debris knocks you over!

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and slam into Jeihrem's chest, exploding with deafening force! He is staggered!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, missing Jeihrem entirely and sailing past him!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, slamming into Jeihrem's chest with an explosion of molten rock! He is staggered!

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and explode violently against a cliff edge!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, missing Jeihrem entirely and flying into the distance!

A rain of scattershot arcs across the sky from the Oshu'k'et, missing Jeihrem entirely!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, slamming into Jeihrem's faceplate with an explosion of molten rock! He is staggered!

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and glance off Jeihrem's legs! He does not appear to notice!

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and roll part way up the cliff edge towards the manor before exploding violently!

Hefting a massive tyrium claymore inset with a skull for a crossguard, the gargantuan Jeihrem slams the blade into the ground. Hideous shadows tinged with sickening no-color spray outward from buried weapon.

You can hear them, clamoring and emboldened, called to this weakened point in reality. The scream and howl, chattering and skittering and tooth and claw and maw and too many eyes begin to squirm through the fringe, along the edges.

A compressed ball of fire screams an arc from the Oshu'k'et, slamming into Jeihrem's right pauldron! Jeihrem is staggered, his armor glowing with heat!

Jeihrem looks down at the assembled forces, and dispassionately twists the blade, slashing sideways. A flare of void bursts forth from the blades wake, leaving a harsh afterglow in your vision. You struggle to make sense of the broken space left in the wake of the weapon, struggle to make sense of the forms clamoring at the edges, struggle to to shut out the conflicted screaming and otherworldly vantage visible through the orange haze beyond the gash in reality, struggle to view the no-color ripples billowing at the boundary.

A ceaseless horde pours forth from the rent, clawing and charging across the opening. They surge with an almost desperation, screaming against the new laws of this plane.

Jeihrem lifts a massive foot and takes a step forward, directly above! Under the shadow of his falling boot, you realize you better move quick to avoid getting crushed!

Jeihrem slams a massive boot into to the ground! You barely manage to jump out of the way in time, but rock and sand explodes outward! The impact of debris knocks you over!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, missing Jeihrem entirely and sailing past him!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, slamming into Jeihrem's chest with an explosion of molten rock! He is staggered!

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and slam into Jeihrem's legs, exploding with deafening force! He does not appear to notice!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, ricochetting off Jeihrem's shoulder and screaming off into the distance! He does not appear to notice!

A compressed ball of fire screams an arc from the Oshu'k'et, missing Jeihrem entirely!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, missing Jeihrem entirely and flying into the distance!

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and slam into Jeihrem's chest, exploding with deafening force! He is staggered!

A thundrous rumbling explosion echoes across the land, and the air takes on a silvery-golden hue. You stagger a moment as a heavy weight presses down on you, and though it is oppressive and indominable, there is something comforting and strangely correct about it. Streamers of wispy golden lines rain down gently, blossoming into ribbons of exact starbursts and spirals.

Reality battles interloper as the rules of the Plane of Abiding roar in fury as the many exceptions and violations on the isle are forcefully rectified. In the rain of golden light, you detect for a fleeting moment an illuminated banner, composed of precise lines and silvery wisps emanating from a silvery spiral. The banner seems to unfurl from horizon to horizon, perfect forms overlapping with perfect forms in an endlessly nested and shifting display. Everything changes, and through it all, you feel the force of Khoheke's will.

You spot several things simultaneously.

The enormous form of Jeihrem roars and falls to his knees, hands crashing into the sea as he struggles against the weight. The interlocking plates of his armor groan and screech as the metal bows and flexes.

Sivroch wails in agony, her form burning and melting, limbs breaking. Her spined tentacles burst into fine ash and disperse, blown on fierce winds, and the her armor fractures, revealing swaths of oozing flesh beneath. She falls to the ground, shrinking and screaming, clawing at the ground as her talons tear from her fingers and her bones break.

Srinoja shatters, cracks spidering across her form as crystalline panes fall upward, evaporating. She clutches her head and wails, reflections of reflections beating against her and winding across her form, a multitude of breaks in the image revealing a haggard Gnome.

The rend billows as if caught in a strong wind, and begins to close, the edges coming together with flashes of corruscating flashes of light. Several thick pseudopods surge through the rend and arcing high, slam into the ground nearby! They pulsate, sending thick globs of unknown material into the land! The golden light batters them down, but they remain in place for several long seconds before shattering into rapidly dispersing smoke.

The form of Jeihrem begins to shrink, flames billowing from the gaps in his armor. Rearing back on his knees, he stares at the offshore Oshu'k'et, and thrusts a hand into the air. A bilious purple mist begins to gather above his head, flickering with thick worms, squirming violently as they die in the golden light streaming from the sky. Beneath the barrier, Jeihrem stands, and takes a step towards the shoreline.

The light continues to rain down from the skies, and gaps in Jeihrem's barrier begin to form. As the light shines through these gaps, Jeihrem is pushed downward, visibly struggling against an extreme weight, his armor groaning as it deforms in places. He strides towards the Oshu'k'et offshore, a barrage of electricity, lava javalins, panjandrums and mangonel fire slowing his progress, and reaches a gauntleted hand as he nears the vessel.

Slamming down to one knee, Jeihrem continues to struggle against the weight above as it streams through his failing barrier. He pulls his hand back, and ribbons of shadow begin to gather in his cupped palm, hissing and dripping with malevolence. The shadow tightens into an orb, snapping with no-color flashes, and Jeihrem pivots his shoulders, ready to attack!

Several volleys from the Aloof Gannet, the Oshu'k'et, and the assembled weapons strike simultaneously, knocking Jeihrem back slightly, the now crackling orb in his hand vibrating with violence. Several large gaps in the barrier overhead begin to widen, knocking Jeihrem's arm to the ground, causing the orb to dissipate. Jeihrem is once again slammed to the ground!

Jeihrem reaches for the Oshu'k'et, but his gauntlet and vambraces being to melt, glowing red hot. Jeihrem roars, an otherworldy bellow, a challenge to all gathered, a call to arms to those beyond the rend. You hear them clamoring, pushing against the oppressive weight, and the rend begins to unfurl once again.

Jeihrem suddenly explodes into vaporous black ichor, a whirlwind of ooze, and streams towards the writhing form of Sivroch, enveloping her and looping upward towards the manor.

As the golden light continues to stream downward, the rend in reality closes buckles once more, and closes completely, the summoned nightmares scattering to ash. Above the manor, a thick maisma gathers, flaring against the righteous weight of the light.

Several large orbs of bone are launched into the sky, exploding into a cloud of jagged shrapnel that begins to rain down on the shoreline! As the bone shrapnel falls, impacts travel from the beach to the water, tiny puffs of sand and rock exploding upward, moving onto a line of ripples as the waves are churned by impacts. The Oshu'k'et is caught in the blast, the wood of the prow splintering and the sails shredded.

As the weapon aboard the Oshu'k'et shatters, the golden light begins to dim, the righteous weight to lessen. The manor stands, enveloped in a purple mist, the beaches littered with flesh, bones, and streaks of ichor.

An ornithopter suddenly takes to the skies, a Gnome pilot falling from the ascending vehicle as it races for the Aloof Gannet. You are able to make out what appears to be the remains of Srinoja at the controls. Moments after the ornithopter arrives at the airship, a hairline fracture in reality spiders outward like a broken mirror for a moment, and then suddenly vanishes. The airship turns for the open sea and flies away.

Kauga's Slaying of the Kraken

The Oshu'k'et slowly moves southest in the Reshal Sea, headed in the direction of the Basalt Isle.  Khoheke stands on the foredeck, in front of a large ballista, loaded with a wickedly-barbed harpoon and aimed toward the rocky shores of the tiny island.  An artillery crew mans the siege engine, the crew chief coordinating with an elementalist atop the crow's nest.  Above, a rigid airship moves forward through the air, scouting ahead.

Khoheke exclaims, "Spotters, watch for deadchurn!"

Kauga steps onto the deck, wrapped in chains, his arms bound in large manacles.  Six marines escort him forward, holding him at arms length with chains in one hand and javelins at the ready in the other.  As the group pensively moves toward the Commodore, they poke and prod with the head of their javelins, directing him to come to a stop.  One steps in front of the Ogre, and issues a single command: "Kneel, Pirate."

The Ogre comes to a halt glances at Khoheke, his steely eyes meeting those of the S'Kra Mur.  Kauga nods and shrugs slightly, and falls to one knee in an unceremonious gesture beneath the weight of the chains.  Khoheke's eyes return the glance as he stands at eye level with the kneeling Ogre aboard the deck.

A single albatross flies outward from the Oshu'k'et over the Reshal sea, an elementalist leaning against the railing of the Oshu'k'et's crow's nest, concentrating on a talisman.  He glances up, and gestures -- casting a pattern of ruby lights upward in a display of flashing aether.  Similar gestures coordinate between the advance vessels, which spread to a wide berth.  The airship abruptly stops, and you watch as a single flapping ornithopter drops from its cabin and scouts forward.

Khoheke says, "Kauga, you are charged with piracy, and conspiracy to commit murder, among many other crimes as the first mate of Srinoja.  Should you face traditional sentencing, you would certainly face the gallows."

The central cog lurches forward, and only now do you spot a single elementalist aboard.  He conjures a gust of wind, sending the vessel ahead of the pack.  The elementalist turns, communicating with a series of ruby flashes, communicating with the lookout atop the Oshu'k'et's crow's nest.

Khoheke says, "However, know that your usefulness is not lost to House Moglin, and at the suggestion of these adventurers, I will give you the opportunity to prove yourself of some worth.  You are known to have killed at least one kraken before -- a feat not many can claim."

Above, the elementalist begins frantically gesturing, sending the ruby spheres twisting rapidly in a code that is not clearly evident of anything other than a sense of alarm.  The ornithopter abruptly banks, accelerating as it returns to the airship.

Khoheke says, "Given your expertise, I have been persuaded -- at much trepidation -- to offer you the chance to show that you may be worth more to Reshalia alive than dead.  Knowing that you may die in the effort, I am offering you the opportunity to kill this foul beast that blasphemes against Drogor's will, the kraken, and in doing so, should you survive -- influence your eventual sentencing away from execution."

Khoheke asks, "Do you accept this offer?"

Suddenly, in a single motion, the central cog is rent asunder, torn into shreds of flotsam by the grasp of a pair of tentacles as it is dragged into the depths!  The elementalist atop the crow's nest gestures, lobbing spinning balls of ice into the sky towards the kraken, shouting a warning to Khoheke!

Kauga abruptly rises to his full height, and in a single effortless gesture, he snaps the chains that bind him, removing the manacles from his wrists and ankles.  He towers over Khoheke, the six marines immediately moving to attack the Ogre, but Khoheke lifts his hooked hand.  For a moment, the Ogre and the S'Kra lock eyes, before Kauga nods.  

Kauga says, "Kauga kill it once, Kauga kill it again."

Kauga walks over to the ballista, and hoists a massive harpoon off the siege engine, carrying it aloft with one hand.

Without so much as another word, Kauga sprints up to the foredeck, the ballista bolt wielded in both hands, and he makes his way up the bowspirit.  Standing tall, the ogre heaves the ballista bolt in a long arc, and moments later, it slams home into the krakens body with a wet thud that can be heard even from this distance.  The kraken roars, tentacles writhing around the ballista, and it vanishes below the waves!  Khoheke glances up at the Ogre, and blinks in mild surprise, but recovers quickly.  

Khoheke exclaims, "Let go and haul!  We need to prepare to ram!"  

The crew bustles to trim the sails, and the Oshu'k'et moves forwards the krakens last location.

As the Oshu'k'et approaches a bloody patch of rough sea, the kraken erupts from the waters, tentacles lashing the skies!  Kauga leaps off the bowspirit, straight for the krakens center of mass as the arisen monstrosity lifts its body above the water, exposing a beak with jagged ridges, and a pair of glassy dead eyes.  Kauga lands atop the trunk of the kraken, grabbing the lodged ballista and driving it deeper into the fleshy mass behind one of the eyes.  As black blood fills the water surrounding the beast, it thrashes violently, wildly slapping tentacles at the comparatively tiny ogre.

Kauga grapples the beast with his bare hands.  The kraken lifts the tentacle, slapping him down against the water.  Moments later, Kauga surfaces, climbing his way back to the head of the beast.  Another tentacle swings at him, making contact with his body with a wet *POP!*.  Staggered, he barely manages to hold on, as the kraken drags him beneath the water.  The last thing you see as the beast submerges is the Ogre still dragging his way toward the head of the monstrosity.

Khoheke says, "Hurm.  Hold.  Give him a chance."

The water thrashes where the monstrosity submerged.  With a spray of ocean accompanying chopping waves, it again resurfaces -- black blood pouring out of its body.  Kauga stands atop the head, his hands clutching the beak of the beast, which he has ripped entirely from the fleshy mass of the arisen kraken.  He climbs atop it as it wildly and blindly attempts to grasp him with its tentacles.  Battered, bruised, heaving for air, Kauga slams the beak into the remaining kraken eye, tearing open its head, exposing a mass of blackened blood, decaying tissue, and pulverized viscera.

Roaring in defiance, the kraken continues to attempt to snag the Ogre, but Kauga grasps the harpoon with both hands, and thrusts it behind the krakens beak, jamming it deeper into the brain of the undead creation.  He jerks the harpoon sideways, tearing flesh, and leans his full weight downward, sinking the harpoon shaft deep.  As the creature dies once more, its tentacles go limp and it begins to sink into the ocean, leaving behind a fatty film in the blackened water.

As the Oshu'k'et approaches the floating mass of the decaying kraken remains, Kauga waves amicably, bloodied and bruised but seemingly otherwise in good spirits.  He leaps aboard the Oshu'k'et, grabbing the gunwale and climbing aboard.

Kauga says, "Kraken dead."

Khoheke says, "Ah...  Yes.  Well.  Well done, Kauga, Son of Kauga."

A wide-eyed medic approaches Kauga with a length of bandage material and a bottle of rum.  Kauga accepts the second, and drinks the entire bottle in a one long, deep draft.  Kauga nods, satisfied, even as Khoheke's marine guardsmen approach hesitantly.

Kauga says, "Kauga say, patch up Kauga cuts, nice healy-man."  

Kauga says, "Er, Kauga say, 'please'."  

Kauga offers his wrists to the guardsmen, who very nervously clamp manacles on the Ogre, keeping the javelins at ready the whole time.  The medic nods and the group head below deck, headed toward the brig.  

Kauga exclaims, "Kauga say thank you to healy-man!"

Khoheke says, "That was...  Something."

khoheke blinks.

Khoheke says, "Lets not lose focus here.  We are almost upon the isle.  Spotters, stay sharp!"

The ornithopter circles the deck of the Oshu'k'et, flying slow and low.  Aboard, you notice a Gnome pilot and a Halfling.  The ornithopter descends, gently landing on the foredeck.  In a moment, Uroi Odalva steps out, removing a smeared pair of aviator goggles, quickly lighting and puffing a cigar.

Shrine of Aluna

LOOK SHRINE:

This large turtle was carved from a single slab of basalt, the shell serving as an altar. The remnants of many sacrifices over the years, combined with untold years of submersion, have left anemones and coral polyps clinging to crevasses carved into the polished stone. In the back of the turtle's shell, a large crescent moon sits engraved in recess, serving as a bowl in which sacrifices to Aluna could have been placed when this was actively used. You believe you can STUDY the shrine to learn more.

There appears to be something written on it.

STUDY SHRINE:

You believe you could PRAY to the Immortals at this shrine or CLEAN it to assist in its consecration. You observe that it is dedicated to Aluna, a Goddess of the Merelew -- as such, you are unsure if your prayers will be heard. Still, there is no mistaking the unique Holiness of the shrine.

READ SHRINE:

A basalt shrine reads:

"The seas are kept in her embrace, for she is the moonlight streaming through the kelp on the ocean floor, the silvery moon-kissed crests of waves in the dark. Aluna is of the Merelew, and as we are of her, we must keep her faith, hold her in our hearts. Only in faith can we be of the water, the wave returning to the sea that it may once again strike upon the shore. If Merelew forget Aluna, the wave is lost."

FOCUS SHRINE:

You focus your magical senses on a basalt shrine carved into the shape of a turtle.

This shrine appears to have a lingering pattern of old Holy magic, enabled by interaction with intervention of the Immortals. You sense that, for a brief duration, this is a location where the gods will return the dead.

PRAY SHRINE:

You approach the basalt shrine, unsure of how the Merelew pray to Aluna. Kneeling for a moment, you settle yourself before the shrine, quietly whispering a devotional passage. Though your words are not specific to Aluna's will, your meaning appears clear enough as you utter a quiet plea to the Immortals to maintain the serenity within this cave below this cursed island long forlorn by the Immortals.

You believe you have been heard, and you have done some good.

CLEAN SHRINE:

You begin to wash the shrine using a handful of the nearby water.

You believe you have done some good.

Cages aboard the Aloof Gannet

[The Aloof Gannet, Firing Platform]
Slung below the ornithopter deck, this narrow causeway runs the length of the airship to provide clearance for the docking emplacements. The wind is fierce, whipping chaotically, and the constant buzzing of the banyakea drones in irregular timing. The deck expands to the fore and aft, featuring a pair of strange metal cages mounted at both ends. You also see a pair of metal cages mounted into the fore and aft of the deck.
Obvious paths: up.

LOOK CAGES:

Made of alternating sheets of oravir and steel, the cages appear to be mounted halfway into the deck and secured by thick bands of rubber. As you examine the pair, a small voice comes from within the aft cage calls out, "Hey, STUDY or FOCUS on me to learn more, but do something, I'm getting bored!"

STUDY CAGES:

Mounted halfway into the deck and secured by thick bands of rubber, the fore and aft cages appear to be some sort of electrical focusing devices, seemingly meant to isolate immense charge within. A rather thick copper needle seems to be affixed to a track, allowing a spotter to direct the forces when ready. You believe you could POINT the needles at the ground forces, or WAVE it to the aerial forces. You also believe you could KNOCK on the cages in recognition of their inhabitants.

FOCUS CAGES:

The cages themselves have no magical pattern, though electricity crackles along their surface. Within, you detect an even greater charge, though packed into diminutive forms.

POINT CAGES:

Picking the aft cage, you grab the copper needle and click it off the track so it may move freely.

"Well les go les go, aim that sucker already!" comes a clearly drunk voice from within the cage.

You aim the needle at the assembled monstrosities below, and clicking it into place, you slap one of the oravir plates on the side of the cage twice to alert the inhabitant that the needle is ready.

From within the cage a voice calls out, "*Urp*, right then, lets show them LIGHTNING!" followed by an oddly resonant humming. The cage begins to crackle with electrical energy, the voice within reaches a crescendo, and suddenly, a massive fork of twisting electricity discharges along the firing needle, raking across a stretch of the beach below! A slight hiccup can be heard from the cage.

Others see:

XXXX aims the needle on the aft cage, and a massive discharge of electricity blasts outward, raking the beach below!

POINT CAGES:

Picking the fore cage, you grab the copper needle and click it off the track so it may move freely.

"Aim true, and we will strike down these abominations," comes a calm voice from within the cage.

You aim the needle at the assembled monstrosities below, and clicking it into place, you slap one of the oravir plates on the side of the cage twice to alert the inhabitant that the aiming needle is ready.

From within the cage, a voice calls out, "Stand clear, XXXX, this will be loud." followed by an oddly resonant humming. The cage begins to crackle with electrical energy, the voice within reaches a crescendo, and suddenly, a massive fork of twisting electricity discharges along the firing needle, raking across a stretch of the beach below! Within the cage, you hear a calm, steadying breath slowly held and slowly released.

Others see:

XXXX aims the needle on the aft cage, and a massive discharge of electricity blasts outward, raking the beach below!

WAVE CAGES:

Picking the aft cage, you grab the copper needle and click it off the track so it may move freely.

"SHOOT THE SKIES HA HA HA!" comes a clearly drunk voice from within the cage.

You aim the needle at the assembled monstrosities flying around and clicking it into place, you slap one of the oravir plates on the side of the cage twice to alert the inhabitant that the aiming needle is ready.

From within the cage, a voice calls out, "Easy, easy, too loud... Ugh, headache," followed by an oddly resonant humming. The cage begins to crackle with electrical energy, the voice within reaches a crescendo, and suddenly, a massive fork of twisting electricity discharges along the firing needle, branching into the skies and bouncing along a swarm of banyakea! A groaning belch can be heard from the cage.

Others see:

XXXX aims the needle on the aft cage, and a massive discharge of electricity blasts the skies, catching a swarm of banyakea!

WAVE CAGES:

Picking the fore cage, you grab the copper needle and click it off the track so it may move freely.

"Aim true, and we will clear the skies," comes a calm voice from within the cage.

You aim it at the assembled monstrosities flying around and clicking it into place, you slap one of the oravir plates on the side of the cage twice to alert the inhabitant that the aiming needle is ready.

From within the cage, a voice calls out, "Ready XXXX, we'll catch as many as we can get," followed by an oddly resonant humming. The cage begins to crackle with electrical energy, the voice within reaches a crescendo, and suddenly, a massive fork of twisting electricity discharges along the firing needle, branching into the skies and bouncing along a swarm of banyakea! Within the cage, you hear a calm, steadying breath slowly held and released.

Others see:

XXXX aims the needle on the aft cage, and a massive discharge of electricity blasts the skies, catching a swarm of banyakea!

KNOCK CAGES:

Picking the aft cage, you knock on one of the oravir plates on the side of the cage. You hear the sound of someone deeply gulping down a drink, and a voice calls out "Yeah, I get it, I'm ready, I'm ready! Voice refreshed, courage imbibed, evil to zapity zapzap zapperzap, heh... Zap."

The voice trails off in slight giggles.

Others see:

XXXX knocks on the side of the cage and listens to a small voice within. XXXX smirks and steps back.

KNOCK CAGES:

Picking the fore cage, you knock on one of the oravir plates on the side of the cage. You hear the sound of someone breathing deeply and humming softly, and a voice calls out "Yes XXXX, I am ready to bring lightning to our foes. Aim true for the skies or the beach, we will strike them down."

Within the cage, you hear a calm, steadying breath slowly held and slowly released.

Others see:

XXXX knocks on the side of the cage and listens to a small voice within. XXXX nods and steps back.

Panjandrums

[Basalt Isle, Overlook]
The entire island is visible from this small overlook, the jagged basalt spines jutting from the sea to the east while huge cracks run through the island's center to create dark, gaping chasms. An ominous-looking castle can be seen far to the west at the top of a towering cliff, while a small fishing village huddles far below it. Very little greenery pierces the flat grey landscape, and the sea appears harsh and unforgiving at every horizon.
You also see some Gnomish panjandrums made of massive kertig discs.
Obvious paths: south.

LOOK PANJANDRUM:

A deployment of panjandrums, each are a medley of freely swiveling Gnomish parts sandwiched between two massive kertig discs. A series of gear exchanges hold the central block of gears and pistons. Mounted on braces, some of the panjandrums inner blocks are spinning at immense speeds, while others are awaiting activation. A crew of Gnomish engineers work on the panjandrums, assembling more as each is fired, each looking slightly terrified. You believe you could STUDY the panjandrums to learn more.

STUDY PANJANDRUM:

You believe you could SPIN the panjandrums to bring one up to speed, PUSH the panjandrums to aim one for the beach battle or PULL to aim for Jeihrem's manor, and YANK the panjandrums to loose one on the targets!

Roundtime: 10 sec.

SPIN PANJANDRUM:

You nod to one of the engineers and he points you to a crank in one of the panjandrums.

"Get it up to speed and stand clear when it's moving on its own. You'll know what I mean." he says, backing away and folding a protective guard over his face. You spin the crank, and the boxlike contraption sandwiched between the kertig discs begins to rotate, faster and faster. After some time, you tire, unable to continue, and the center portion gradually slows and stops.

Roundtime: 10 sec.

SPIN PANJANDRUM:

You nod to one of the engineers, and he points you to a crank in one of the panjandrums.

"Get it up to speed and stand clear when it's moving on its own. You'll know what I mean." he says, backing away and folding a protective guard over his face. You spin the crank, and the boxlike contraption sandwiched between the kertig discs begins to rotate, faster and faster. Suddenly, a series of interlocking gears sequentially engages with a loud *snap*. Several pistons begin to hiss and churn, and the center portion blurs as it spins beyond your efforts. You release the crank and back up, the twin wheels vibrating as the center spins!

Roundtime: 10 sec.

PUSH PANJANDRUM:

You step up to a panjandrum and look around for a means to aim the massive weapon. An engineer points to the swiveling braces the panjandrums are mounted on, and smoothly pulls a small metal pin from an interlock, nodding to you.

"You can reposition the wheel-rails, but be sure to keep your fingers clear: the gears can pinch." he says.

Carefully pushing the massive kertig disc, keeping your fingers well clear of the inside track, you push the panjandrum around slightly so it is aiming at the beach. Satisfied it is positioned properly, you nod to the engineer, who inserts the metal pin back into the interlock.

Roundtime: 10 sec.

PULL PANJANDRUM:

You step up to a panjandrum and look around for a means to aim the massive weapon. An engineer points to the swiveling braces the panjandrums are mounted on, and smoothly pulls a small metal pin from an interlock, nodding to you.

"You can reposition the wheel-rails, but be sure to keep your fingers clear: the gears can pinch." he says.

Carefully pushing the massive kertig disc, keeping your fingers well clear of the inside track, you push the panjandrum around slightly so it is aiming at Jeihrem's manor. Satisfied it is positioned properly, you nod to the engineer, who inserts the metal pin back into the interlock.

Roundtime: 10 sec.

YANK PANJANDRUM:

You approach the panjandrum looking for a means to loose the weapon, and an engineer begins to backpedal quickly, hiding behind a protective barrier as he shouts, "Give the firing chain a sharp tug, and stand clear!"

You notice the thick glaes chain and grabbing it firmly, you give it a sharp yank. Several things happen at once!

A deafening *crack* comes from the panjandrum as a series of pressure plates engages the inner track of the kertig discs, transferring the immense momentum of the rapidly spinning interior portion.

Sparks begin to fly from the center portion, leaving a radiant trail as the panjandrum races forward, churning dirt and debris in its wake!

The engineer peeks around the barrier and gives you a thumbs up.

Roundtime: 10 sec.

YANK PANJANDRUM:

You approach the panjandrum looking for a means to loose the weapon, and an engineer begins to backpedal quickly, hiding behind a protective barrier as he shouts, "Give the firing chain a sharp tug, and stand clear!"

You notice the thick glaes chain and grabbing it firmly, you give it a sharp yank. Several things happen at once!

A deafening *crack* comes from the panjandrum as a series of pressure plates engages the inner track of the kertig discs, transferring the immense momentum of the rapidly spinning interior portion.

The pressure plates and gears along the inner track begin to glow red hot as the panjandrum races forward, bouncing along the ground violently!

The engineer peaks around the barrier, eyebrows raised high in surprise.

Roundtime: 10 sec.

Sivroch's Cocoon

The cocoon quivers, and with a loud cracking sheds a swath of thick spiny plating, which falls to ground and melts into hissing ichor. Through the gap, you see the internal membrane blossom with an unnatural reddish glow, an unrecognizable form writhing within. Several creatures along the cocoon scuttle over to the broken section, and spreading their limbs, melt into the surface, patching the gap.

The cocoon bristles, and three patches of boney plating flare red with spiraling symbols. A braid of vaguely visible tendrils spiral from the harrowed chasm, arcing high and slamming into the cocoon, attaching to the illuminated patches. Growing opaque, the tendrils appear to be made of small crystal worms writhing around one another, and seem very wrong and unnatural. After a moment, the tendril fades, and the cocoon looks somehow enforced.

The cocoon shudders, and several spines branch and grow dramatically, erupting in multiple directions and bristling with hostility. Thin pseudopods worm from between the spines and seem to taste the air, tapping the ground around the cocoon, probing for something. After a long moment, the pseudopods snap back into the cocoon, the spines shiver, merge, and retract, and the cocoon seems to be oriented in a new direction.

The cocoon shudders, and several spines branch and grow dramatically, erupting in multiple directions and bristling with hostility. Thin pseudopods worm from between the spines and seem to taste the air, tapping the ground around the cocoon, probing for something. After a long moment, the pseudopods snap back into the cocoon, the spines shiver, merge, and retract, and the cocoon seems to be oriented in a new direction.

The cocoon emits a low grinding and several tentacles at the base thicken and twist. With peristalsic motion, the tentacles bring several large globules of material upward into the cocoon. Several spines and boney plates shift slightly.

The cocoon shudders, and several spines branch and grow dramatically, erupting in multiple directions and bristling with hostility. Thin pseudopods worm from between the spines and seem to taste the air, tapping the ground around the cocoon, probing for something. After a long moment, the pseudopods snap back into the cocoon, the spines shiver, merge, and retract, and the cocoon seems to be oriented in a new direction.

The cocoon quivers, and with a loud cracking sheds a swath of thick spiny plating, which falls to ground and melts into hissing ichor. Through the gap, you see the internal membrane blossom with an unnatural reddish glow, an unrecognizable form writhing within. Several creatures along the cocoon scuttle over to the broken section, and spreading their limbs, melt into the surface, patching the gap.

The creatures scuttling over its surface twitch and fall to the ground, dead, melting into nothingness, and the armored plates and spines twitch and vibrate, sloughing off the surface of the cocoon.

A spray of ichor erupts from the base of the cocoon, trapping you in a sticky mess of evaporating, oily, slime.

Several tentacles from the base of the cocoon pull free of the ground and writhe madly around the area, knocking everyone off their feet. The tentacles rapidly dissolve into nothingness.

A large claw with three razor-sharp talons presses against the inside of the exposed membrane of the cocoon.
The claw continues to press against the side of the cocoon, raking against the smooth interior of the membrane for purchase. The membrane begins to tear, oozing murky fluid.

Tearing the membrane further, a second claw continues to scramble against the cocoons membrane. A third claw joins the struggle. A fourth. A fifth.

The membrane tears wide, and a monstrous creature tumbles outward, unfolding long muscular limbs covered in reinforced boney plates, etched and carved with glowing symbols and patterns. Seven gleaming blue eyes with double slit pupils glare from within a helm of dense quills, and a slow rumble emerges from the creatures throat. Five long tentacles sprout from the creatures back, terminating in triple talons, and stretching languidly, they slam into the ground and lift her high into the air.

She surveys the area, taking stock of everyone assembled, and unhinging her maw, the Monstrosity Sivroch, Abomination of the Profane, roars in challenge.

Sanyu Aes

TOUCH WEAPON:

Reaching for the weapon, you touch the orb and extend your magical senses, viewing the developing pattern of spiraling order churning around the platform. You deftly arrange some of the drifting patterns, nudging them back into place.

LEAN WEAPON:

Leaning forward, you pour yourself into the billowing order churning around the weapon. Wisps of silvery light flow from your hands, coalescing into an ordered pattern. Radiating circles unfurl and exact tridecagons snap into place, and the design continues to develop.

PULL WEAPON:

Grasping hold of the designs, you clench your fist and pull, reinforcing the patterns, binding them more tightly around the weapon's core. The gaps in the ordered lines of the pattern shrink, and the overall structure becomes increasingly robust and indomitable.

Khoheke waves his hand, and the holy streamer flickers slightly.

Khoheke closes his eyes, faint hair-like wisps of light billowing off his form and wrapping around unseen lines and forms stretching throughout the area, centered around Sanyu Aes.

The weapon thrums with life, several rods sliding along their swivels around the orb, which begins to softly glow.

Golden flashes of light flicker around the base of the weapon, pure and righteous, though somewhat disordered.

Expanding lines of golden light writhe around the weapon.

The lines of golden light bend into wide arcs, forming concentric circles around the base of the weapon, ordered and exact.

An expanding series of circles continue to form around the weapon.

The lines of golden light continue building around the weapon, loops and repeating angles expanding.

A few gaps appear in the rotating pattern.

The lines of golden light snap into place, filling gaps and weaving external structures into the larger body, overlapping circles, angles, billowing loops arranging themselves in increasingly complex patterns.

The pattern continues to rotate, individual elements aligning in new and complex ways.

The pattern stretches, circles overlaying squares overlaying octagons composed of billowing triangles, each swirling and glowing with pulsating brilliance.

The orb glistens, glowing brighter and brighter.

Khoheke's form begins to waver, white-silvery light overtaking his features. As he fades from view, a spectral form leaves his body and hovers above the ground, arms wide, a missing left hand the only distinguishing feature.

The specter shudders, streaking sideways, a thick brushstroke of light siphoning into the building pattern. The specter appears diminished, though his eyes begin to burn.

The specter of Khoheke shouts, "We must expand the pattern. PULL on the weapon!"

The writhing pattern blossoms further, ordered geometric forms seamlessly stacked on increasingly complex weaves, the intersections complex and demanding, the whole solid, greater than each component part.

The specter begins to move components of the pattern, moving a circle aside, bending a section to make space, replacing the circle. Some movements appear too quickly to follow as he rotates shapes into three dimensions, orbs and cubes and pyramids radiating from the central spiraling design.

The specter of Khoheke shouts, "Again, expand the pattern with me, PULL on the weapon!"

The pattern expands and contracts, as if breathing, a large circle encompassing the perimeter, connecting to a dozen smaller circles, which in turn are connected to more complex geometries, each rotating and spiraling into the core of the weapon.

You feel it, the undeniable weight building. It begins as a gentle pressure pushing you first away then towards the weapon. Though it is uncomfortable, it is somehow reassuring.

The specter of Khoheke shouts, "We will be the aegis! The beacon forms! Energize the pattern! LEAN on the weapon!"

The pattern flares with brilliance, blinding light swirling and involuting, snapping between two and three dimensional forms. The orb within the weapon roars like the sun, the kertig bars glowing red hot.

Grasping the pattern with his hand and hook, the specter of Khoheke wavers for a moment as his form flows downward, merging with the orb at the center of the pattern. The kertig bars begin to spark, casting impurities and oxides from their surface.

The specter of Khoheke shouts, "Light the beacon! LEAN on the weapon! We will right this space."

The pattern churns with blinding speed and radiant light, a whirlpool of structure and order, and you brace yourself, holding your shield arm forward, your right leg back, bounding the pattern, confining it.

As one, the group braces against the pattern, and you feel the righteous refusal of the beacon.

The specter of Khoheke shouts, "The pattern slips, TOUCH the weapon to reinforce it! We will expunge the defilers!"

Razor-edged vertices spin faster and faster, and the pressure becomes almost unbearable. You dig deep within your soul, shift your right leg slightly and press forward, your shield arm aching with the effort.

The specter of Khoheke shouts, "It is nearly complete! LEAN on the weapon to energize the pattern!"

The pattern erupts with light, orbs twinkling in and out of existence in a constant, ordered sequence, racing faster and faster around the structure. Leaving blurred streamers behind as the thick lines spiral and twist, the pattern races faster and faster, glowing brighter and brighter. Law reaffirms, expunging deviations.

Several things happen at once -

The specter of Khoheke begins to scream.

The pattern explodes with a deafening rumble, and the air takes on a silvery-golden hue. You stagger a moment, pressed backwards by a heavy weight, indominable, undeniable, absolutely correct and righteous. You feel it with a certainty, the coda of this place, full of manipulations and errors, alterations and injustices, and your soul explodes, rewriting and revising, correcting the imbalances. The beacon burns outward.

Streamers of golden lines rain down gently, blossoming into ribbons of exact starbursts and spirals.

The specter of Khoheke continues to scream.

The specter of Khoheke shouts, "Maintain the beacon! LEAN on the weapon!"

The specter of Khoheke blurs, funneling into the pattern.

You continue to feel a crushing, undeniable weight forcing you backwards, but it is comforting, familiar, necessary.

The beacon roars, golden light cascading from the skies, eradicating and expunging.

The beacon roars, golden light cascading with clean lines and sharp edges, and it pours forth, shackling the future with its righteous refusal.

The specter of Khoheke shouts, "Reinforce the pattern!"

The beacon roars, golden light raining from the skies, rewriting and commanding compliance.

The beacon roars, golden light cascading with clean lines and sharp edges, and it pours forth, evaporating the growing form with its righteous refusal.

The beacon roars, golden light cascading from the skies, eradicating and expunging.

The specter of Khoheke blurs, funneling into the pattern.

A hail of jagged bone slams into the area, the staccato beat raining destruction on the platform! The weapon is slammed from the firing platform base, the collected energies discharging into the kertig bars! The pattern disperses without the anchor of Sanyu Aes, the various rods and lenses snapping and slagging. The righteous weight dissipates.

You raise your shield and dive to protect Khoheke, the shards of bone colliding harmlessly above. All the Paladins present do the same, each of you forming a steel ceiling while the Necromantic barrage continues. After it passes, you lower your shield, content that you have protected Khoheke in his moment of vulnerability."

The specter of Khoheke snaps together, and falls to the ground, vanishing into the prone form of an unconscious S'Kra! The golden rain ceases, the perfect order no longer a comforting weight.

Smoke Escape

An escape mechanism that took individuals to the center of the event space, alive or dead.

DANCE SMOKE:

You begin to twitch with involuntary movement, spasmodically crawling towards the Harrowed Chasm, lurching towards the gap between the ridges of basalt, towards the mass of Jeihrem's forces, compelled in a choreic burst into something resembling an unholy dance!