"There are things in this world that were ancient when the eldest dragons were still in their eggs. How arrogant we are to think we're anything more than children playing with toys." - Feobalt Stroyh, Court Wizard to Grand Princess Eutropia of Taldor
17th Eras, 4721
Old Thassilonian Ruins, Sanos Forest, Varisia
"Sir Temperance?" Asaf asked as he tapped a finger on his bicep.
"Hm?" The big tiefling grunted in reply.
"Have you ever encountered a situation where you suddenly look back across your life at all the moments that led to your present circumstances and wondered if, perhaps, there might have been a few junctures where, had you chosen differently, things might have been better?" Asaf queried.
Tem looked thoughtful, sniffed, then shrugged wordlessly.
"Fair enough." The aasimar sighed, leaning against the cage.
Asaf, Temperance, Dhrak, and Scaelia were locked up in a prison wagon in the middle of an open plaza within the Thassilonian ruins. All of them had been stripped of weapons, bags, baldrics, anything holding equipment. Around them were several of the ruin's larger buildings, including the massive temple Asaf had seen from the woods. There had once been a statue in the center of it all, but it was toppled over and in pieces. The stench of unwholesome rot was lightly in the air, but Asaf could not see its source.
The draconic humanoids had set up a camp of sorts in the plaza. Asaf had counted up about one-hundred of them. The dragonfolk ran the color spectrum in their scales, most of them wearing the same armor of bronze scales that the sentries had been clad in. Their weapons and round shields were made of the same metal. Though it was bronze in color, Asaf did not believe it was actually bronze. The color was quite similar, but the material was oddly matte, reflecting very little light from the flickering cook fires around the camp. A similar alloy? A previously unknown metal?
In truth, focusing on this quandary about the metal was just serving as a distraction from their current predicament. The four of them had been sneaking through the ruin, rather easily evading the sentries at first. Asaf's source had suggested the temple would be the greatest source of treasure. The aasimar had gone through the expense of scribing several scrolls of dispelling back in Sandpoint where he and Tem had landed in case the temple was protected by enchantments. Visions of riches and, more importantly, the notoriety of a big find had been filling Asaf's thoughts as they had found a perfect moment to slip from cover and surmount the steps of the temple.
That's when a series of sharp cracks had filled the air, alerting all the dragonfolk. The four adventurers had been spotted almost at once, halfway up the temple's steps. Temperance had prepared to fight immediately, but Asaf had stayed the tiefling's hand when the dragonfolk didn't immediately attack them. Neither side understood the language of the other, but the message to drop their weapons and surrender had been clear enough. The dragonfolk were clearly speaking a dialect of Draconic, but it was so wildly divergent from Golarion's Draconic that Asaf only caught a few bits and pieces, and those could not even be relied upon with any certainty.
Why were they here? Who were these dragonfolk and where did they come from? The answers were not forthcoming, for obvious reasons.
"We could've fought our way out." Tem grunted. He sat on one of the prison wagon's benches.
"And potentially caused a greater incident. The fact we weren't shot on sight tells us these…fine folk are not inherently hostile. It would not do for us to give them reason to simply respond with violence to any other passersby they happen upon."
"Well, I ain't gonna complain about that." Dhrak said. "But, we should probably be thinkin' on how we're gonna get outta here now. I weren't always a Swordlord, mind, so I've got a few ideas."
"First, we need the surprise of our capture to die down." Asaf said. "We can take care of this one with little issue, I'm sure." He indicated a spear-wielding dragonfolk standing guard over the wagon. Near the dragonfolk guard was another wagon, this one containing all their gear beside other items. Asaf couldn't get a good view of these other items, sadly. Perhaps they were from the surrounding ruins?
"Well, we got your bracelet, yours and Miss Scaelia's magic, and I got one lockpick sewn into my sleeve right here." Dhrak indicated the inner bicep of his Aldori jacket's left sleeve.
"If we can get out quietly, I can hitch Oath to the loot wagon and we can ride off." Temperance said.
"Very good. We shall work with this plan for now." Asaf said. He realized he hadn't heard Scaelia weigh in on anything. He turned to see she was sitting at the very front of the wagon, her eyes wide, staring at the bars across from her. "Miss Scaelia? Is something the matter?"
Her head snapped over to him.
"I just…I've never…been locked up like this before." The drow breathed, her words shaky. "I don't…I really don't like it."
Asaf frowned, his heart sinking. If they were going to get out of this, everyone needed to be in a good frame of mind. And, more importantly, Scaelia and Dhrak were here because Asaf had invited them to come along. This was his responsibility.
There was no room to take a knee before Scaelia, so Asaf sat down across from her. He didn't touch her, merely held her gaze.
"Miss Scaelia, I know you are frightened. I know this is an utterly dreadful situation for you." Asaf said quietly. "But I swear to you, by Desna and by Sarenrae, that by one way or another, we shall deliver ourselves from this prison before you know it." He offered her a wan smile. "I know I've given you very little reason to trust in my word in our short association, but I hope to give you reason to change your mind about that in the next few hours. The most pertinent fact about all this, however, is that none of us will be able to escape without your help. We shall all need to do our part. Will I be able to count on you to help me again, Scaelia, just as you did by slaying that troll?"
Scaelia listened, her breathing slowing a little bit. When Asaf was done, she closed her eyes and nodded.
"Someone's coming, Halo." Temperance said, looking out from the back of the wagon.
"Understood." Asaf said, then saying in conclusion to Scaelia, "deep, slow breaths. Sarenrae will not abandon you, Scaelia Deepsun."
With that, Asaf stood up, trading places with Tem. At first, the aasimar expected a mere changing of the guard, but was surprised to see that a white-scaled dragonfolk was approaching that looked different from the others. They were clad in a musculata breastplate made of that same matte bronze metal, using a glaive like a walking stick. This dragonfolk was joined by two others wearing the same scales as the others, carrying spears.
The white dragonfolk approached the prisoner cage, inspecting the four adventurers within with sapphire eyes. Then, to Asaf's surprise, the dragonfolk not only spoke, but using the Common tongue.
"My ink name is Se'Skarinakitaex In-Glory-Clad", the dragonfolk explained in a deep, oddly vibrating voice. "My breath name is Skarin. I am Bandchief of these warriors and loyal servant to the Ancalagon Throne. Who leads you?"
"That would be me." Asaf explained. "My…ink name is Lord Asaf Malid Tuqqash Yasin, heir to the Emirate of Al Tamaya, agent of the Pathfinder Society. My breath name is Lord Asaf. Let me assure you, Bandchief, that if it is a ransom you seek, my fathers will pay handsomely for all of us." It was fairly standard protocol on Golarion. Ancalagon Throne? That was a new one to Asaf.
"Ran-...-som." Skarin repeated thoughtfully, hand brushing along a beard of thin tendrils that hung from the lower jaw of their sharp-toothed snout. "Perhaps, perhaps. Tell me, Lord Asaf. Why were you and your followers sneaking through my camp? I am not a suspicious man by nature, but you can imagine why I reacted as I did."
"Well." Asaf said, trying to decide if honesty was the best policy here. Without knowing enough about these people, he couldn't quite come up with a lie that felt convincing enough. "To tell you the truth, Bandchief, we thought this place was abandoned. Our goal was that temple", he pointed to the large, column-fronted structure. "If you have already laid a claim upon it, then by all means keep it, and we shall be on our way."
"No one sent you?" Skarin asked.
"Not in the expectation of finding a camp full of…", Asaf trailed off, not wanting to cause the offense that would see them killed.
"Dragonborn." Skarin finished.
"Yes, a camp full of dragonborn. The Pathfinder Society sent us to investigate the temple, nothing more. We are explorers, chroniclers, and preservers of history. We are tied to no single nation." Asaf explained. "This is all a great misunderstanding, you see."
"Hmm." Skarin considered his prisoners. "This is fair. I do not see grounds to kill you immediately. You will remain in there and wait. There are others you must speak to. If you prove you're not spies, you'll go free. If not…", the Bandchief didn't elaborate on that.
"This is an outrage!" Asaf snapped. "We will gladly cooperate for the sake of peace, there is no need to keep us confined like common criminals."
"Except there is." Skarin said easily. "You will be fed at sunrise. Cause any trouble and you will be executed." The utter lack of malice in his voice was worse than the laughter of one of Zon-Kuthon's most deranged sadists. Skarin turned on his heel and left the cage behind.
Asaf watched the dragonborn go with gritted teeth. There was something very awry going on here. The problem with attempting to fish information out of Skarin to learn why these dragonborn were here was it would probably confirm to the Bandchief that they were spies after all.
"Blast it all." The aasimar sighed. Perhaps Asaf should have offered an immediate bribe? No. He knew a man who could not be turned from duty by any amount of coin when he saw one; he was partners with one now, after all. Besides, they could just go through their captives' belongings for that.
"Guess we'll be needing Plan B, then." Tem rumbled.
"Indeed." Asaf said. "Though I do find it curious that they are taking no precaution against holding spellcasters captive."
"Not much chance we're gonna go free without spillin' blood." Dhrak said. "Ain't opposed, myself, but that whole bit about maintain' peace…"
"Is irrelevant. What worry would a peaceful group have about spies? Our infiltration caused reasonable suspicion, surely, but it was resolved peacefully." Asaf said.
"It does not matter. They are evil." Scaelia said. "That Skarin fellow most of all."
Everyone looked back at the drow, whose white eyes carried a certain tinge of gold that would have been hard to notice in daylight. Of course. She was a priest of Sarenrae. Scaelia would be able to use magic to see such things.
"Maybe they'll keep their word and release us when we prove we're not spies." Scaelia went on, her expression hardening. "But I don't intend to wait around and see."
"That settles it, then." Asaf said. He looked at the lone guard. "How quietly can you pick a lock, Dhrak?"
"Not that quiet." The goblin admitted.
"Fair enough." Asaf said. He scratched at the rather itchy growth of beard on his face. Normally, he would have shaved the patchy stubble by now. "I have an idea. We will need to act fast. I am going to distract them."
"I can use Ragathiel's fire to melt the bars." Tem suggested.
"If we need to hurry, do it, but Dhrak's lockpicking shall be much quieter, and that is what we shall be relying on. Though, if we are lucky, that won't even be necessary, either. You, Temperance, will have another task." Asaf explained.
"What is it?" The tiefling asked.
Asaf gathered everyone around and laid out his plan.
It was about midnight when Dhrak came to the back of the wagon, knocking on it with his knuckle.
"Hey. 'Scuse me, mister guard. Hey, mate, back here. Oi, you fuckin' deaf, pal?" The goblin rattled.
The guard finally got the message and looked back. He was a red-scaled dragonborn with finned spines atop his head and an annoyed expression on his face.
"Heya, listen, me and my mates in here, we're pretty damn thirsty. Maybe a little water?" Dhrak asked, making a motion as if drinking something.
The guard blinked, then shook his head.
Dhrak rolled his eyes and laughed, "c'mon, what are we gonna do from in here?" He motioned around himself and to his fellow prisoners. Then, he knocked on the bars and thudded his boots on the wood, a clear message; I'll keep doing this and annoying you.
The guard sighed, but went to the nearby wagon containing all their equipment. He fetched a waterskin, it looked to be Tem's, and offered it to Dhrak, staying well back so the goblin would have to lean out to grab it.
The dragonborn was not far enough away, however, to avoid the spear that suddenly emerged through the bars and stabbed him in the throat. Asaf hauled the dying guard closer to the bars, where the body was caught by Temperance.
That precise moment is when a troll wandered into the camp. It was about the size of the other trolls except for the bull, though this one was clad in impressive plate armor, carrying a huge mace that could probably crush houses. It stomped to the edge of the camp and roared with fury. All the dragonborn turned to face it, a series of shouts and cries of alarm running through the camp as the sleepers were awakened. The troll turned around and fled out of the camp, into the darkness, with impressive celerity. Some dragonborn were firing after it with large bows that fit the size of the arrows Asaf had found in the bodies of the trolls they had fought.
After having a guidance cantrip placed on him by Scaelia, Dhrak reached through the bars and began working on the lock with his lockpick. Tem searched the dying guard but found no keys.
"Skarin probably has them." Tem guessed.
"It seems likely." Asaf agreed as he watched the dragonborn chase his illusory troll. "How's the lock coming?"
"Think I almost got it. Came from a Chellie locksmith, I think. They usually got a few of the same quirks." Dhrak muttered, then smiled as the lock clicked open. He pushed the door to the wagon open. Tem dropped the dead guard and everyone filed out. The tiefling spoke a word of power, causing Oath to appear in between the spars of the wagon's yoke. Scaelia and he started hitching the horse while Dhrak climbed onto the driver's bench and Asaf stood guard. He couldn't see his illusion anymore, but knew it would be too far away or found out for what it was soon.
"Right. Climb in and gear up", Dhrak said, looking over his shoulder as he took the reins. The others did as the goblin suggested as Dhrak snapped the reins. Oath bolted forward, hauling the wagon
Deep voices were bellowing. A few large arrows fell short of the wagon, some tipped with obsidian, others with the same bronze metal as the other dragonborn gear. Oath quickly pulled the wagon faster than the dragonborn could run.
"Make for the trees! We shall dismount and lose them in the forest!" Asaf commanded to Dhrak. Once he had all his equipment, the aasimar began searching through the sacks in the wagon, hoping to find something that would make this journey worth it. Stone tablets written in Old Thassilonian seemed to be the primary thing they had been after. It was a language Asaf could translate if given time and cross-referencing documents, neither of which were near to hand at the moment. It seemed this endeavor was going to be a complete bust, after all. No Pathfinder ever succeeded in everything they set out to do, but it was a stinging defeat all the same. This was especially true considering Asaf was almost certain he knew the source of those noises that had gotten them all caught. He'd grown familiar with them once. It was something he planned to tell the group when they were free from their captors' pursuit.
They passed by the piled remains of several more trolls in a smaller plaza near the main one, already stripped down to gristly bones that were being picked at by insects and birds. The dragonborn had butchered them, in the literal sense, for those bones would not have been picked so clean without a lot of time. More worrying, but answering the question of where the smell of rot was coming from, was the pile of smaller corpses near the troll bones. Most of them were gnomes in various states of decay, though there were larger bodies as well.
The wagon, which was bouncing rather worryingly through the uneven ruin, somehow became even more unsteady as they broke from the ruins and cross the short distance of open ground between the ancient remnants and the forest. One of the wagon's axle broke with a resounding crack and the wagon ground to a halt, the normally placid Oath whinnying in protest. They had gathered their things and gone most of the distance they could have hoped to, regardless, but Asaf looked back to see the shadowy mob of the incoming dragonborn and realized that losing their pursuit was not going to be as easy as expected.
"We might have to fight them." Asaf said as he leapt down from the wagon.
"Good. Pay them back for the dead back there." Temperance growled.
"I appreciate your eagerness and penchant for violence most of the time, Sir Temperance, but at present I think we must acknowledge that this is no ship full of malnourished slavers", Asaf said to his partner as the group ran through the trees. "We are badly outnumbered by capable looking warriors. To fight recklessly would be our undoing."
"I'm in agreement with Halo." Scaelia put in, in much better spirits now that she was free from the cage, imminent danger or no. "We can't rush into this."
"Lucky for all of you", Temperance said, his fierce smile looking quite predatory, "it's my turn to have a plan."
"You know, we could just fly out of here…", Asaf tried to suggest.
"And leave them to keep killing people? You're welcome to go, if you want Halo. I'm staying." Tem asserted.
"You can count me in, too!" Dhrak declared, drawing his sword from his back.
Asaf and Scaelia made eye contact while still on the run. The drow offered a wan grin as if to say "I suppose it can't be helped."
"The may Desna's luck be with us. What is your plan, Sir Temperance?" Asaf asked.
Fire began dancing down the length of Forbearance.
"What's always my plan, Halo?" Tem queried in reply. With that, the tiefling summoned his five burning wings. "I'll corral them. Use your magic when they're massed together."
Asaf felt his eyes bugging out of his face as he fully realized what Temperance was doing, but by now it was too late to stop the tiefling as he flew off into the trees.
"He's going to light the forest on fire, isn't he?" Scaelia asked, sounding incredulous.
"Indeed he is, Miss Scaelia. And thus, you come to understand the nature of our partnership." Asaf sighed, "here, come close. I shall grant you both some resistance to fire. Do not expect full immunity, but it shall give you time to escape the flames should you be surrounded by them."
Asaf spoke the spell, touching Scaelia and Dhrak each on the shoulder before internalizing the energy to guard himself. A soothing coolness spread through his body. They all three looked back into the forest, able to see lines of fire beginning to burn to life as Temperance traced them through the brush with his sword. Deeper voices were barking and shouting.
"They'll be driven this way." Scaelia said, working her hand in a spell of her own, casting a blessing that would guide their attacks over the three of them. "Perhaps we'll be lucky and these dragonborn can't see in the dark. It will give us an advantage, especially as the smoke obscures the battlefield. Do you have any magic that could trap them from this side? Shaping earth, perhaps?"
Asaf shook his head. "My specialties lie in evocation and abjuration."
"Fair enough." Scaelia said, shrugging one shoulder as she strung an arrow on her bow. "Makes sense that you would pick the two bluntest schools of magic."
"And what precisely is that supposed to mean?" Asaf asked in an outrage, not expecting the barbed comment.
A sidelong glance and a half-smirk told Asaf he was being tormented again.
"I suppose I can grant you that one, given it might be your last opportunity for it." The aasimar groaned as he formed his bracelet into an estoc; a two-handed sword with a surprisingly narrow blade. The blade war deceptive though. It had a triangular cross-section and no edge, being entirely made for piercing. Asaf suspected that scale armor the dragonborn were wearing would be hard to slash through, and he didn't possess the precision of action a dedicated swordsman like Dhrak would have with his Aldori training.
Asaf felt his nerves buzzing through his body as he saw the fires spreading ahead. Already, the calls of anger and confusion were being joined by those of pain as dragonborn were no doubt unexpectedly caught up in the flames. The sound of armor jangling and weapons clanking as a mass of warriors moved in a panic away from a fiery demise was growing louder and louder.
"These blighters don't stand a chance against us!" Dhrak assured Asaf.
"You sound quite sure of yourself, Messer." Asaf breathed.
"Oh, I am. Know why?" Dhrak asked.
Asaf silently shook his head.
"Because we're heroes." The goblin said with a confident wink.
Scaelia laughed at that, which she probably meant to sound good-natured, but there was an anxious edge to it. She didn't want to be here either, but Asaf could not help but agree with Temperance in the end. Whoever these dragonborn were, if they were going to be capturing and killing people, they needed to be stopped.
The first dragonborn emerged around a tree, her silhouette stark against the flames. An arrow from Scaelia's bow found a home in the dragonborn's gullet. As that dragonborn fell, another appeared, then another, and another. Scaelia nocked and fired twice more, felling one of these new arrivals and winging another, which Asaf put down with a flame cantrip. The fourth and final reached Dhrak, attacking with a handaxe, but the goblin moved like quicksilver, parrying the axe, slipping to one side, then slash slash, a leg cut out from under his foe followed by a lethal stab through the neck.
Asaf looked past this vanguard quartet, hearing the main mass of the dragonborn approaching, though they had little cohesion from what he could tell. Tem's wings were flitting back and forth among the trees as the tiefling swooped through the building smoke, harrying the enemy from above.
Gathering his power, Asaf conjured a fireball to his hand and hurled it into the incoming dragonborn, hearing the weighty impact of scattered metal as the fireball detonated and tossed weapons and armor pieces every which way. There were more deep voiced screams as dragonborn who had no doubt been expecting a way out of the flames were confronted, forcefully, with the putting to rest of their hopes of escaping immolation.
"I would say we've written the prologue to this volume", Asaf raised his voice over the cacophony in the forest, lifting his estoc. "Desna grant that we scribe a victory on the coming pages, eh?"
"Save it for the stage, Halo!" Scaelia suggested as she sped home another arrow, piercing through a dragonborn's scale armor to puncture a lung. She put her bow away, drawing a sun-motiffed scimitar from her side that Asaf would have recognized back home in the hand of the vaunted Dervishes of Sarenrae. "Everlight, stand with us", she said, mostly to herself.
"In Cayden's name!" Dhrak added.
The three adventurers advanced at speed into the chaos of fire, smoke, and scattering dragonborn. Asaf summoned the arcane power in his blood, spreading his fingers and unleashing a bolt of lightning at the nearest dragonborn-shaped shadow. Rather than burn a line through them, this one struck its target and leapt, shocking two more, then four more from there. Stunned and juddering from the chain lightning, these half-dozen were easy prey for the trio.
A figure born aloft on burning wings fell among them, the wings extinguishing, but his blazing sword remaining alight.
"Do you perhaps like the theater, Sir Temperance? Your penchant for the dramatic is rather obvious." Asaf commented.
"Less talking." Temperance said, raising Forbearance. "More fighting. On me!"
They pushed into fire, smoke, and shadow. Asaf's concerns about being overwhelmed by superior numbers were quickly dispelled. In fact, the conflict was almost too easy. The dragonborns' cohesion had been utterly broken. They fled this way and that to escape the flames, and judging by the screams Asaf kept hearing, they were mistakenly fighting each other in a few places now that they knew there were enemies among them. The four adventurers pushed ahead, staying together, taking down lone dragonborn, pairs, and trios, whittling through their numbers with efficiency.
The four adventurers stopped, catching their breath as best they could in the smokey air, all of them with blood dripping from their blades. They formed a square and looked around, but the noise in the forest had decreased noticeably. It appeared most of the dragonborn had either fled or been killed. The battle would have gone much differently if the enemy had been organized and coherent, but they hadn't been, and so the outcome had been decided.
"Alright. I'd say we bought ourselves some time. Let's get out of this smoke." Tem suggested.
"Agreed." Asaf said. "Well fought, everyone. I must say, it's far too rare for fights like this to go so…"
Something caused the air to vibrate. There was a great, deep screech from above. The four adventurers looked to the sky.
"...easily." Asaf finished with a gulp, his estoc returning to bracelet form, then reforming as his favored spear. He did not want a less familiar weapon against whatever this was.
A shadow descended. The smoke was buffeted. The ground shook as something large landed. Asaf had to shield his eyes at the sudden wind, which was fierce enough to blow out much of the fire around the forest. Dhrak would have been blown off his feet if not caught by a quick hand from Scaelia. Unpleasant as the wind was, Asaf was grateful as it faded. He took a breath with much less smoke in it.
By the time he could open his eyes, Asaf could much more clearly see the forest around them by the virtue of his darkvision combined with the few remaining fires. Dragonborn dead and wounded were scattered around them, many of them bearing burns of various severities, up to and including being charred black. Some were slumped against trees, others pumping their lifeblood into the dirt from severed limbs or rent open bodies. It was a carnage the likes of which Asaf rarely encountered during his time as a Pathfinder. He tried to spot the body of Bandchief Skarin, but there would be little hope of doing so without being able to inspect the bodies more closely. That would have to wait.
A woman came strolling out of the swirling, dissipating smoke. She was easily seven feet tall, wearing a shimmering gown that left little of her form to the imagination. Pale as moonlight, trailing emerald hair all the way down to her calves, there was an unnatural air about her. Two obvious signs gave away the fact that she was not simply an exceptionally tall and curvaceous human; a crown of short horns that ringed her head just above her ears, and a pair of viridian eyes that should not have been as bright as they were, even if catching the light of a stray flame.
"Something with more spine than the two-legged rats inhabiting this forest, I see." The woman said, slowly walking towards the four adventurers, not bothering to walk around the dead dragonborn. She tread upon them, even putting the heel of one slipper on the throat of a dragonborn that was not quite dead yet.
The adventurers formed a short line, turning to face her. The newcomer was undeterred, approaching until she was only about thirty feet away.
Asaf, who would normally be quite happy to engage in conversation with someone so lovely in appearance, found his usual flirtations were ill-fitting at present. There was power about this woman, and no mistaking. Asaf felt a twinge in his head as the woman stared them down. It didn't hurt, but it was noticeable. Asaf knew what it meant, and try as he might to force the magical probing out, it was folly. A lone minnow stood a better chance of turning a river.
"I see." The woman said. She shifted her weight, one hip thrown out with a fist resting upon it, her other upturned as if she was some stage actor about to soliloquy. "You could have simply waited in the cage for my return, you know."
"Lady Vesperex! Stay back!" Came Skarin's voice. The white dragonborn came stomping through the trees, his snowy scales stained with soot. He had just over a dozen dragonborn in toe, all looking worse for wear. They formed a line before the one called Vesperex.
"You contrive to command me, Bandchief?" Vesperex asked with an arched eyebrow.
"I accept whatever punishment you deem fitting." Skarin said, not taking his eyes off the adventurers. "These ones are more of a threat than the others we've encountered."
"I've gathered, you imbecile." Vesperex sighed, rubbing her face with a long-nailed hand.
"Lady…Vesperex, was it? My lady, I shall skip my own introduction as I'm certain you just procured it from my mind." Asaf said graciously, realizing how rapidly things might veer out of control once again. "And, to further expound on the matter of drawing things from my mind, I am sure you know quite well that this is all a great misunderstanding."
"Yes." Vesperex said, slowly looking around at the expired and wounded dragonborn with all the sympathy of a pedestrian inspecting the distribution of an overturned produce cart. "I can see how slaughtering several dozen of my soldiers could be construed as a…misunderstanding." Her too-bright eyes leveled on Asaf and the aasimar felt the involuntary desire to back away. "Normally, there would be no question about your fate. I would kill you without a second thought. However, I find myself in need of more non-dragonborn; specifically, non-dragonborn who can survive more than a stiff breeze. There is something in the depths of the temple in these ruins. My servants cannot reach it. It is…warded against beings of draconic origin, you see."
"And you think that my company and I shall obtain this item for you because…what, you asked us so kindly?" Asaf asked rhetorically, rolling his eyes at the idea.
"I am going to tell you how this will work, Lord Asaf. You four are going to go down into that ruin and take what I desire from it. In exchange, you may take any other treasures you wish and you will be allowed to go freely." Vesperex elaborated, shifting her weight to the other hip and letting her arm fall. "You'll note that I am not asking."
"Forgive me, Lady Vesperex, but if you expect us to believe you'll simply let us go with a sackful of treasure, I am going to have to disappoint you. Naivete has never been among my qualities." Asaf responded.
Vesperex said nothing. Instead, her form suddenly became insubstantial, seeming to turn in on itself while also growing and expanding outward. There was no snap of bone or tearing of flesh. One moment, a near-human woman was standing in her place. The next, a fully grown green dragon was staring down from behind Bandchief Skarin and his troops.
By Asaf's guess, though it was hard to tell given she was coiled around a tree to fit in the confines of the forest, Vesperex was about sixty feet long from nose to tail, her head a solid ten feet higher than the head of the bull troll they had fought so recently. A single horn forking into two points jutted from the top of her snout. Bony ridges followed the length of her spine, breaking up an expanse of iron muscle coated in stony scales the color of moss. Drifting from Vesperex's mouth was the stink of rotting meat joined by the acrid tang of her acidic breath.
"Forgive me. It seems I didn't say it loudly enough." Vesperex's voice was a deep-throated rumble as she lowered her massive head and came eye to eye with Asaf. "I. Am. Not. Asking."
Asaf gave into the impulse to take a step back this time, glancing to either side at his companions. Scaelia and Dhrak both looked how Asaf felt; afraid and uncertain. Temperance's usual stoicism was replaced by a deep, almost angry scowl. Asaf prayed the tiefling wouldn't do anything foolish.
"You put on a brave face, horned one, but I can see the fear in your soul." Vesperex said to the Templar, turning her head towards him ponderously. "You had forgotten what it was like to stand before an enemy that you know you can't defeat. Rest assured, horned one, that you are thinking correctly. You can't defeat me. Give me what I seek and you won't have to try."
Tem snarled between clenched teeth. For a moment, it looked like he might take advantage of Vesperex's nearness and strike the dragon in the face. However, the tiefling stood up from his battle stance and sheathed Forbearance a moment later. He did not look pleased in the slightest.
"Take us to the temple, then, Lady Vesperex, and we shall obtain that which you seek." Asaf said.
"Wisely chosen." Vesperex said. A shift in the air later and she was back in her humanoid form, striding away from the battlefield. Skarin and his dragonborn formed a loose circle around the four adventurers and began herding them back towards the ruins.
"We shouldn't be doing this." Tem uttered.
"It's this or fight a dragon, Sir Tem." Dhrak said with a shrug. "'I'm brave, but not so brave as Cayden Cailean', as they say."
"Let us…focus on the task ahead." Asaf told his companions, though the cogs were already turning in his mind. He made eye contact with Scaelia, who was walking beside him, and the drow gave him the slightest of nods. They were both thinking the same thing. They would find this relic, alright.
They just wouldn't be handing it over.
As Asaf had expected, the temple was dedicated to Lissala, the Sihedron Scion, divine patroness of Old Thassilon. Her shattered star symbol could be seen on the cracked ceiling above. Normally, Asaf would habitually ruminate on a subject so prevalent to his current surroundings, but at present he could spare little care for the Sihedron Scion and her influences on Old Thassilon and Azlant.
Vesperex led the way through the temple, down through a basement and subbasement. She brought the adventurers and her dragonborn guards to what would have been a nondescript storeroom if not for the fact that one wall had been torn out, revealing a tunnel that descended into the earth. There was the slightest shimmer in the air before the tunnel. White-blue crystals mounted in lattices of thin wire lit the tunnel, which curved left and down about twenty paces in.
"What I seek is down there." Vesperex informed them. "It is an idol about two-feet in height, roughly cylindrical, crafted from a material similar to malachite. It will rest on a pedestal in the middle of a large chamber, near the center of the complex below. Return that idol to me and your end of our bargain will be fulfilled. Are we clear?"
They were not clear. Asaf wanted to know how Vesperex could so intimately know the location of this object without seeing inside the ruin. He wanted to know what this artifact was, what it could do. None of these questions would be answered, so there was no point in wondering.
"You are correct, Lord Asaf. There is no point in wondering." Vesperex said. She made a dismissive shooing motion. "Now, off you go. Be quick about it."
"Of course, Lady Vesperex." The aasimar said. He took a breath, then entered the tunnel. Passing the shimmering section of the air felt like walking through a silk curtain. It had to be the ward keeping draconic beings out. The air past the ward was crisp and cool.
"Well, ain't this just right fucked." Dhrak commented, holding his sword at the ready as the four of them hesitated just beyond the barrier.
"The sooner we begin, the sooner we're done." Scaelia advised, taking up her bow. "Let's get on with it."
They began descending. Asaf's steps felt a bit heavy. His throat was raw from the smoke in the forest and he was exhausted from lack of sleep. The rest of the group had a certain slump to their shoulders, even Scaelia, who did not require true sleep thanks to her heritage. Asaf considered getting out of sight and giving the group a couple of hours to, childish as it might have sounded, have a quick nap and eat a bit of snack from their rations. They shouldn't take that time, however. Gods knew what was down in those tunnels, or what Vesperex might be planning back on the surface.
"Drink some water, everyone." Asaf suggested, taking up a leather water bottle and pulling a deep draught from it, the cool water a blessed relief on his parched throat.
His companions followed the aasimar's suggestion. The tunnel's leftward curve tightened and continued down for some distance.
"What'cha reckon this business is all about? This tunnel, I mean." Dhrak wondered as he wiped his mouth on the back of his arm and put his canteen away.
"Thassilon was a cutthroat and competitive place, Messer Dhrak. Every secret and advantage was kept that could be. Especially considering that the cult of Lissala was already dying out before the coming of the Earthfall that ended Azlant and Old Thassilon, I suspect this tunnel was dug either as an escape route for desperate priests or a hideout to secret away some form of…something. To be frank, I haven't the foggiest idea without more information." Asaf admitted.
"Some form of something. Dawnflower be praised that we have your insight, Halo." Scaelia said, giving a playful wink when Asaf looked over at her with narrowed eyes.
"I'm going to kill that damned dragon." Tem growled.
"Sir Temperance, our group would be hard pressed to do such a thing even if we were all fully rested and Miss Scaelia and I hadn't used so much of our magic against the trolls and then the dragonborn." Asaf advised the tiefling. "I am loathe to admit such a thing, but the fact of the matter is, if my draconic lore is up to par, she is well into adulthood and thus very powerful. However, if this place is enchanted to keep dragons out, then perhaps we shall find something to give us an advantage over dragons within."
"If Vesperex is already familiar with ruins like this, which is something we can imply pretty easily from her telling us exactly where to find this idol of hers, I think we should assume she's ready for that eventuality." Scaelia suggested.
Asaf felt his heart sink, but nodded in agreement. Blind optimism wasn't going to help them out of this. They had to think hard and keep their eyes open.
Temperance made a frustrated sound deep in his throat but said nothing. The tiefling clearly did not enjoy problems that couldn't be solved with a sword.
The four adventurers reached the end of the tunnel, which stopped at a metal wall with a hole through it. The hole had been melted through, judging by the warping of the metal, but it had been long ago. The hole was perpendicular to a hallway, also made entirely of metal, the walls and ceiling brighter and would have had a greater sheen than the floor if it wasn't completely dark.
"Well this is…unexpected." Asaf said.
They went through the hole, down a short ramp of packed earth and stone that was clearly not part of the greater metal structure. The hallway went off to the left and right, veering with a slight curve. The wall they had just come through was completely solid, though there were round openings in the inner wall. Doors, Asaf wagered.
"This reminds me of tales I've heard of the Silver Mount in Numeria." Scaelia said in a way that suggested she did not relish the similarity.
Asaf hadn't thought of that at first, but now that he heard Scaelia saying it, he said, "you make a good point, Miss Scaelia. I wonder if this structure is a part of the Silver Mount that broke off, perhaps? Or entirely unrelated? Hm."
"So, uh…what in Cayden's name are you two talkin' about?" Dhrak asked.
Scaelia elaborated for him. "The Silver Mount is a massive object that fell from the sky a long time ago. A group of arcanists called the Technic League formed around exploiting its secrets and using the artifacts within to exert control over the Kellid tribes of Numeria. It's full of strange wonders; thinking automatons, strange liquids that don't obey gravity, and creatures straight out of nightmares. They were still finding new discoveries within before the Technic League were driven out a few years ago."
"We'll be alert, then. We must find the center of this place, and if this is an exterior hall, then there is only one direction to go." Asaf said. He knew next to nothing about places like this. Everything seemed so oddly countered. It was too smooth, too streamlined, bearing little resemblance to anything crafted by the mortal races currently living on Golarion. Was it an Azlanti construction, perhaps? Perhaps even the ancient elves?
Asaf guided the group through the nearest door. It had no obvious handle or means of ingress except for a small button on the wall beside it. Asaf pressed this button and it opened with a soft whoosh. They were confronted with a small, spartan room complete with a bed and what appeared to be a desk built directly into the wall. There was no decoration or personal possessions. They moved on from there, opening a few more doors, each of these revealing a room identical to the first one. It wasn't until they reached a T-intersection that the environment changed, revealing a hallway that cut directly toward the center of this strange place. There were yet more doors on either side of the hallway, running off to the end of everyone's darkvision.
"Getting the feeling this place is pretty big." Tem mused.
"The Moth-Class StasShip is currently the second largest vessel in our archives, behind only the WARNING: INFORMATION CORRUPTED."
Everyone stopped, their weapons ready. The voice that had spoken was monotonous and androgynous both, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere.
"Show yourself. We've no time for games, whoever you are." Asaf said.
"Intelligence transfer to mobile platform denied. For authorization, see on-duty Chief Engineer." The voice said.
"...I don't suppose any of you understood what that meant?" Scaelia asked.
Everyone shook their heads.
"Who are you?" Asaf asked towards the ceiling for lack of a place to look.
"I am Shipmind Unit", the voice trailed off into a series of unrecognizable vocalizations that Asaf realized were words from a language he'd never herald. "I am the central intelligence and processing unit of the Moth-Class StasShip 'Zephyr.'" A pause, "your neural patterns have been scanned. I detect hostility towards the enemy. Potentially, you are who I seek."
"The enemy." Asaf repeated. "You mean the dragonborn?"
"Correct." The Shipmind said. "Near-proximity sensors indicate unacceptable active draconic presence with the Zephyr's vicinity. Insufficient power for far-range sensors. Are more dragonborn present externally?"
"Well…there were others. We slew a great many of them, but there could very well be others besides", Asaf admitted. "Listen, ah, Shipmind. We are in search of something." Asaf then described the idol before asking, "does such a thing exist?"
"What you describe is a Weave Core." Shipmind said. "It is the primary power source of my creators. Several of them power this vessel, although their power is dwindling. Many of my systems are shut down, including security. But, this discussion is moot unless you can reach the Weave Core. Do this and we will speak further."
Down the hall, a door opened. Asaf saw the first sources of light up ahead.
"It probably goes without saying." Tem said in a quiet voice, like he was trying to be unheard by Shipmind, "but I don't trust this spirit."
"I would be concerned if you did." Asaf said.
The four of them reached the open door. Beyond it was a massive space, a metal walkway spanning out into open darkness before them. The blackness was complete both above and below the walkway. There were blister-like semi-spheres lining the walls as far as was visible. More pressing than that was what awaited them on the walkway.
There were three wooden archways that were utterly at odds with the environment around them. These archways were carven with dozens of Thassilonian runes, their swooping tops each bearing runic inscriptions that Asaf could easily translate. The light limned these archways. The nearest was surrounded in blue light, the next in gold, the last in red.
Several skeletons rested on the ground at various stages between the archways.
"Everyone stop." Asaf advised them. "These are Rune Gates. A Thassilonian specialty. This arrangement in particular was a favorite of theirs. The arches are symbolic, in a way, anchors rather than borders. Trying to fly around them will go poorly for us."
"What do they mean? I've never seen anything like them." Scaelia said, resisting the academic urge to approach them and look closer.
"It's the Test of Mind, Test of Spirit, and Test of Body." Asaf explained, reading the inscriptions in the top of each archway. "Self-explanatory of course. The first shall pose some intellectual quandary before allowing us to pass, the second shall test one's will, and the last shall present some physical obstacle barring the way through the arch. If we remain close together when confronting them, it shall accept us all, rather than requiring each of us to pass them individually."
"What kinda tests we lookin' at here?" Dhrak wondered uneasily.
"Let us find out. I shall take the first gate." Asaf said. He took a few tentative steps towards the Archway of Mind. He could feel its power beginning to reach out for him, reaching tendrils into his brain. They didn't hurt. Not yet. They would if they failed, Asaf was sure.
The dust is all, quiet desolation
The certain fate of all souls and nations
An eternal one on a judge's throne
Is an instant, here and gone
Underneath the final moon
To be granted great renewal
The words were in Asaf's mind. There was no voice, they were simply…there now. Judging by the looks of his companions, they heard it, too. The aasimar held up a finger to them, indicating they should remain silent. As he had stated, he would take this challenge, and he had no idea if a suggestion spoken aloud would be seen as an answer by the archway.
And an answer he would need, for this was obviously a riddle. Asaf took a breath, relaxing himself, and he started pondering this words.
Let us take this as a whole initially. He thought. Clearly, obvious themes of death. Death will not be the answer. It is too obvious. Dust and desolation? Both heavily related to endings, of souls and of nations. But it said 'all' souls and nations. That feels specific. Well, where do dust and desolations lead all the souls in all nations? To the eternal one upon a judge's throne. Pharasma, the Lady of Graves. It is the certain fate of all souls to be but an instant before Pharasma's throne, underneath the Boneyard's moon, before their renewal into their afterlife, wherever the Lady of Graves sends them. Pharasma. The common link is Pharasma.
Asaf inhaled, the "ph" sound of the goddesses name just starting to form on his lips.
But then he stopped, icy fingers gripping his heart.
No. The certain fate of 'all' souls and nations. All of them. This includes Pharasma herself. The eternal one on her throne herself is but an instant underneath the final moon, the final moon that hangs over the Boneyard, awaiting the quiet desolation after the judgement of the last soul, for THE great renewal. Merciful Sarenrae, it's not Pharasma, the answer is…
"Groetus." Asaf finally said, speaking the name of the Harbinger of the Last Days. This minor god, taking the form of a skull-faced moon hanging above Pharasma's domain, the Boneyard, waited for the judgement of the last living soul in creation.
Several tense moments filled the room. Asaf did not know how a Rune Gate reacted to a failed supplicant, but he sincerely doubted it was a pleasant experience.
The green light around the the first Rune Gate faded to nothing. It felt like a slight pressure was released from the air around them.
Relief flooded through Asaf. "Alright. That's one out of the way."
"How close did you just come to saying the wrong answer?" Scaelia asked.
"Oh, not at all, I was certain from the start." Asaf assured her.
Scaelia's half-smirk told Asaf precisely how much she believed that.
"Let us move on to the next archway." The aasimar motioned forward.
"The Test of Spirit." Scaelia said, as she looked at the green limned archway. "What is there to anticipate?"
"A trial of faith? Willpower? Mental fortitude? The possibilities are many." Asaf said.
A green circle of light appeared on the ground before the Gate of Spirit. It was only a few feet across. Everyone paused and looked at it for a moment.
"It seems someone is meant to step into the circle to begin the test." Asaf noted.
"I will do it. My faith in Sarenrae is unyielding. My spirit can handle whatever may come." Scaelia said, treading into the circle and kneeling down before anyone could suggest otherwise. Asaf, Temperance, and Dhrak were left in the echoing silence as Scaelia settled into place, her hands on her knees.
For a few minutes, nothing seemed to happen. Were it not for a shifting in the light surrounding the Gate of Spirit, Asaf would wonder if anything was even happening. Curiosity was also eating at him. What was Scaelia experiencing? Was it entirely in the mind? Was it some sort of realistic illusion, perhaps?
The first indicator that something was awry was a sharp exhalation from Scaelia's nose. All three of her companions looked down at the drow upon hearing this sound, but she remained still. Had it not been for Temperance and Dhrak also reacting to the sound, Asaf would have wondered if he'd actually heard it.
There, again. Another sharp breath, this one a bit louder. The uneasy feeling already dwelling in Asaf's gut grew more insistent and he frowned. Biting back the instinct to ask if Scaelia was alright, he simply stood near the drow, watching over her. He noticed her hands, initially lying loosely upon her knees, were balled up into fists now. A whimper escaped Scaelia's lips.
"We gotta get her outta there." Dhrak said.
"No." Asaf countermanded the goblin, pointing at him. "This is testing our wills just as much as hers. It gives me no joy, Messer Dhrak, but if we interrupt this now, it will kill Miss Scaelia, and most likely all of us along with her."
Dhrak uttered a curse in the Goblin language that Asaf understood in spirit if not in word.
Asaf crouched before Scaelia as she continued to make sounds of distress. Sweat was beading on her brow, her eyes flicking back and forth beneath their lids. It was as if she was having a particularly dreadful nightmare that she couldn't wake up from. Asaf let one knee drop and reached into his bag of holding, producing a clean bandana he would often dampen and place on his neck when riding through the deserts of his homeland. Asaf poured a bit of water onto the bandana and dabbed at Scaelia's forehead.
"You are not alone in your struggle, Deepsun." Asaf whispered as he dabbed the sweat away. "Whatever you face now, we are with you. We have laid our faith at your feet, and I know it is not misplaced."
Asaf had no idea if he was actually helping. He was unused to others taking risks like this on his behalf, which was unusual, given he'd had a bodyguard for so many years. But even with a guard, there'd been no fight that Asaf had run from, no foe he'd left entirely to someone else. Even now, with Temperance, there had been times when they'd not been fighting side by side, but both of them were still doing their part. Here and now, Scaelia was taking the burden of this Rune Gate entirely upon herself, and had only known two of the three people she was doing this on behalf of for a few days. Gods, she had only had very choice words to give Asaf about his worldviews on the day they'd left Ravenmoor, yet here she was, the only person currently standing between himself and certain death.
Several things were cast into stark contrast, but Asaf did not have anymore time to ruminate on them as Scaelia suddenly gasped, then cried out and fell forward. Asaf caught her, keeping her from falling to the floor and cradling her for a few moments. The drow struggled in his arms, trying to wrest herself free.
"Get away! Get away from me!" She demanded.
"Miss Scaelia! Miss Scaelia, it is Asaf! You're safe!" He tried to reassure her.
Scaelia blinked a few times, her thrashing slowly growing less and less insistent, until she was looking up at Asaf with tired, distant eyes. Asaf helped her sit up and let her go.
"What happened? What did you see?" Tem asked her.
"I saw…there was…", Scaelia tried to quantify it, but trailed off.
"Let's not pry, Sir Temperance." Asaf suggested, standing up and offering a hand to the warpriest. "You did well, Scaelia Deepsun, and you have my thanks."
Scaelia looked up at Asaf's hand, then to the aasimar himself. After several moments, Scaelia took his hand and let him help her to her feet.
"I…would hope so. You'd all be helpless without me" The drow said, her signature smirk making a ghost of an appearance.
"Indeed." Asaf said with a chuckle and a nod. He'd make the offer of letting Scaelia vent about what she saw later. They had other things to focus on right now.
Above them, the green light around the Gate of Spirit had faded, leaving only the red limned Gate of Body to impede them. In a natural progression with no words spoken, Temperance and Dhrak approached the gate, Asaf and Scaelia following behind.
As they approached the final gate, metal snapped and the walkway before them broke apart. It was not an uncontrolled breakdown, however. The metal sections grew and shifted, some shrinking and twisting. What it amounted to as everything locked into place was a floating obstacle course, replete with small platforms, ledges that would require shimmying, sections that would require upside down climbing and acrobatic swinging from a railing converted into trick bars.
"Huh." Dhrak said, scratching his scalp. "Well. Gotta admit, weren't expectin' that."
"Simple." Tem said, but then nothing happened. "I can't summon my wings. What is this?"
"The priests of Lissala predicting exactly what you just attempted." Asaf said. "These gates are almost always imbued with anti-magic fields of some sort."
"I'm getting so fucking tired of all this stuff!" Tem barked, and then without warning he grabbed Dhrak by his jacket, lifting the goblin from the ground and hurling him across the gap, through most of the obstacle course. The goblin tucked and corrected his fall in midair, landing on the platform that Tem had been aiming for. Dhrak sprang from the platform with the momentum of his flight and bounced between two vertical sections that were spaced close together, coming out of the end to leap, land, and roll to his feet through the Gate of Body.
The red light faded and the walkway reformed into its original state.
"Next time, gimme a fuckin' warning, would ya?!" Dhrak snapped back at Tem.
The tiefling cleared his throat. "Sorry…lost my patience there."
Dhrak's scowl was gone as soon as it arrived. "Ah, well, I'm here and the gate's done. Reckon that's all the matters, yeah?"
"Aye." Tem said, moving to join him.
Asaf and Scaelia followed a bit more slowly. The drow was still recovering, and Asaf didn't want her to feel left behind.
"Wasn't that outside interference?" Scaelia asked.
Asaf shrugged. "My best guess is both people involved showed their physical aptitude; Sir Temperance his strength and Messer Dhrak his agility, Or perhaps my understanding of how strict the Rune Gates are is flawed. Thankfully, it doesn't matter."
"True." Scaelia agreed.
The four of them went along the walkway until they reached what Asaf assumed was the midpoint. On one side of the walkway was a pillar of steel that was only a few feet across, though its height ran both up and down into darkness and out of sight. On the other side was a trio of large, glass rectangles arranged in a triangle. Before them was a flat surface covered in buttons and small switches that Asaf didn't have the slightest idea how to use. Beyond these, the walkway had been destroyed, ending in jagged metal hanging over open space.
In the center of the pillar was what could only be the idol. It was contained behind glass, with eight points of jagged, red light reaching from the pillar above and below it, connecting to the slowly rotating idol. It was perfectly cylindrical, its face etched with strange paths and characters that Asaf could not hope to recognize. Before he could begin working out how to extract the idol, the three glass rectangles suddenly lit up, washing them all in blue light that blinded the group for a few moments.
"You are here." Shipmind said. As Asaf's vision cleared, he looked at the rectangles and saw a human face on each of them. It was the same face on each rectangle, making the same slight movements and moving its mouth in the same way when it spoke. It was too symmetrical, uncanny in its composition and lack of any hair or blemishes. It was like something that had never met a human before tried to make a human face from memory.
"We are, Shipmind. And you said we would speak further. Make your case. Why should we listen to you over the dragon?" Asaf asked. In truth, he was very open to other options, but the Shipmind didn't need to know that.
"I possess no information on this dragon in question and therefore have no data to compare my ends to theirs", Shipmind said. "But, perhaps, I can show you something that will shed some light on your current situation."
More light sources began coming on, white half-spheres built into the walls. They flickered to life up and down the walls of the great chamber, revealing it in its full height. There were several hundred of the glass and metal blisters, which Asaf realized each had something behind them. They were humanoid figures.
They were dragonborn.
"These subjects are unimprinted, bound for the Home Worlds. This vessel was part of a fleet of StasShips, all landing here many cycles ago in order to wait for an emergency refueling detachment." Shipmind explained. "My primary directive has been to maintain the subjects and await refueling so they might be added to the forces of the Home Worlds."
Unsure of what most of that meant, Asaf focused on what he could easily parse out.
"Unimprinted. So these dragonborn…they are…alchemical creations? Homunculi awaiting commands?" He asked.
"That information is classified." Shipmind said. "You have fought dragonborn already. Understand that you will likely have to fight these if they are freed. As I said, my primary directive is to keep them alive and in stasis. However, with the degradation of my neural pathways and a lack of power to maintain my failsafes, I have begun to think outside of accepted parameters to realize that if the current trend continues, this Weave Core here will eventually fail, these dragonborn will be set free, and my task will be failed regardless. My logic centers now reason that it has been far too long, that no refueling is coming, and thus I must make provisions for the good of the creators and the Home Worlds, to keep these subjects out of the hands of the enemy. I require someone with a physical body to complete this process."
Asaf nodded. "We're listening."
"Choosing between a rogue spirit or an angry dragon. Gods, I miss the Worldwound…", Temperance muttered.
"Do you really?" Scaelia asked him.
"No." Tem grumped.
"There is enough power remaining in this Weave Core for several cycles in the future." Shipmind said. "It powers both the stasis units containing the subjects and the anti-draconic ward surrounding the Zephyr. However, if I were to overload this Weave Core with all the power remaining, it would detonate, destroying this chamber, and likely the entire ship. I will require one of you to enter the command override to give me that permission."
"We need another way out of this ship." Scaelia cut in. "Give us that and I don't see why we can't agree to this."
"Exterior scans indicate that 99.99 percent of the ship's exterior is obstructed. The only alternative would be the usage of the on-board Corporeal Positioning Transfer Device." Shipmind said. "Its original purpose was transportation of small groups from orbit to surface. With decreased power, it can still transfer you to minimum safe distance."
"My brain hurts." Dhrak complained.
Asaf was able to extrapolate the meaning through context clues. "So, a teleportation artifact. This would suit our needs. Where is it?"
"Two levels down. I will provide emergency guide lights." Shipmind said.
Asaf considered his companions. "What do you say, my friends? Shall we take it up and its offer?"
"Don't see how we have a choice." Tem grunted.
"Yep. What he said." Dhrak pointed a thumb at Temperance.
"We can't let these dragonborn fall into Vesperex's hands." Scaelia asserted. "Do it."
Asaf nodded to his companions, then said to Shipmind. "We accept your terms, spirit. Tell me what we must do."
The lights in the large chamber began going out. One of the buttons on the flat surface below the glass rectangles lit up with an inner green light. It was beneath a see-through shell of some kind of hard material.
"Press the indicated button, then flip the switch beside it. That will give me unrestricted access to the ship's controls, including power." Shipmind said.
Not wanting to waste any time, Asaf approached the glowing button. He flipped open the see-through shell, pressed the button, then flipped a small metal switch up. Within seconds, the idol started humming inside the great pillar, starting to glow more brightly.
"I suggest you make all haste." Shipmind said. "And be warned. Transfer of power has disabled the anti-draconic ward. Multiple draconic signatures detected inside the ship."
Asaf's eyes widened. "Oh." He turned once more to his fellows. "Run!"
Run they did, hurrying along the walkway, back beneath the Rune Gates. Funnily enough, the gates lit back up one by one as they passed beneath them, ready to challenge another supplicant that would never arrive. When they reached the hallway they had entered from, there was a line of pale blue light on the floor. It guides them back to the exterior hallway and, thankfully, in the opposite direction from the breach they had entered through.
It was a cold comfort. Behind them, the dragonborn were pounding through the ship, holding torches. They spotted the four adventurers and gave chase Scaelia turned and fired an arrow into their midst, shooting one through the bicep and causing them to drop their torch. Asaf grabbed her arm and pulled her along.
"If we get bogged down fighting, we'll die along with them!" He said.
Scaelia went back into step, but she was already breathing heavily. They all were. The day had taken its toll.
The light showed them to a downward spiraling staircase, which they immediately descended. No sooner had Asaf entered it, the last in line, when a wash of acidic liquid rushed past behind him. The source was obvious. Vesperex was on their tail.
Asaf thought quickly, using his diminishing reserves of magic to cast a spell upon the stairwell. A translucent barrier went up in the stairwell that was almost imperceptible in the darkness. He then kept running, following the light.
"I am going to tear you apart and devour you!" Vesperex's voice followed them down the stairs as the adventurers came out into the hall that would lead them to the teleportation room.
There was a deafening BOOM from the stairwell. Vesperex shrieked as Asaf's wall of sound spell went off. Asaf allowed himself a triumphant grin.
They followed the light a bit further until it led them to a door the swished open. The wall of sound went off a couple more times, causing Asaf to look back and see Vesperex was bounding down the hallway at them with terrible speed. She was taking in a great inhale as Asaf passed through the door, which closed behind him.
The room behind the door was not large. It was mostly circular, with more panels of buttons off to either side. Straight ahead, there was an opening in the wall to a much smaller circular space, its floor glowing with gentle violet light. The blue line in the floor led straight to it.
No one had any breath to wonder if they could truly trust Shipmind, to ponder if this was a trap, or really anything other than running for the violet light. Behind them, there was a hissing, bubbling sound, followed by a rancid stench as the door was eaten away by acid.
Vesperex smashed through the door, her green eyes bright, her fingernails extending into claws. Scaelia fired an arrow, Asaf launching a lightning bolt at her. Vesperex simply caught the arrow and broke it in her fist, taking the lightning bolt square in the chest with little care. Exhausted and cornered, the four adventurers prepared for a final stand that was certain to be brief and painful. For his part, Temperance stood in front of the group, his shield raised, as Vesperex let out a roar that should not have been possible for a human-shaped throat as she charged, closing most of the distance in a few strides, then springing forward like a lion pouncing upon prey, her teeth now shaped into tearing fangs. The adventurers braced.
A flash of violet light.
The sensation of coming apart, twirling, stretching, curling in. No voice, too much noise, impossible colors, an instant, an eternity.
Whump.
Asaf was on his back, lying in the grass, looking up at the stars through a sparse cover of trees. For several moments, the aasimar couldn't even bring himself to sit up. Was this a dream? Was he actually dead? Had he been torn apart by the dragon?
A distant sound, like thunder, rolled across the forest, followed by a tremor in the ground. This woke Asaf up to the fact that he was quite alive. He sat up slowly, his body protesting the lack of rest and the exertions of the day, the leg the troll had broken aching particularly acutely. Around him, his companions were doing the same, Temperance pushing himself up after landing face down on the ground. Dhrak remained flat on his back, his eyes open, but apparently unwilling to get up just yet. Asaf didn't blame him. He wanted to sink back into the grass and brush and just pass out. Still, it was going to be wise to put a little distance between them and the ruin before finally giving into exhaustion.
"Well. That will certainly be an exclamation point on the end of a particularly strange chapter in my chronicle." Scaelia said from where she sat beside Asaf. She reached to her belt and took up her waterskin, pulling several gulps from it.
Asaf looked to the sky. They had landed on a lightly wooded hill on the outskirts of the Sanos forest. In the distance, stark against the starry blackness, was a column of dust and smoke, no doubt rising up to join the smoke from the fires Temperance had lit earlier.
"I certainly hope so, Miss Scaelia." Asaf muttered, remembering the hatred in Vesperex's face in the last moment before they were teleported. "I certainly hope so."