Darkness.
How long the two fall, they will never know. It is plunging without reason or light, an endless nightmare narrated by the cries of the damned. You land in pitch black darkness, not the faintest hint of light. You can see nothing, only hear your ragged breathing and the breathing of the other. The chains are gone, at last letting you go.
It's hot here and reeks of sulfur and acid. The air is thick and difficult to breathe, the foulness of it forcing itself deeper into your lungs with every breath. It makes you want to vomit, yet you cannot. The screams of the damned are distant now, a mere background to the oppressive, all consuming silence of this place.
True Seeing reveals nothing?
Make an K:A check real quick.
[21:32] <Yuthirin> roll 1d20+23
[21:32] <Serith> Yuthirin roll for Serith < 37 >12 [d20=14]
*is unsure where he's at but tries to take advantage of the darkness, for what it's worth, and hides, waiting and listening...*
> roll 1d20+62 Hide
<Serith> Iddy roll for Serith < 72 > [d20=10]
Muirfinn can think of two reasons why he sees darkness.
1. There is absolutely nothing here. It is pure, absolute emptiness. Nothingness. You can't see something when there is nothing to see.
2. An epic spell of some sort. It would be plausible for one to overcome true seeing.
Make a Listen check, Lief.
> roll 1d20+54 Listen
<Serith> Iddy roll for Serith < 70 > [d20=16]
Before deciding whether or not to attempt the creation of light, Muirfinn quietly pats himself down to make sure that everything is present.
Everything seems to be in order on Muirfinn. No chains, either.
Lief can tell that the wailing of the damned is indeed far away. But closer he can hear laughter. It's coming from somewhere behind you. A distant chuckling. The sound of chains, steel rustling against steel.
Then: 'Welcome. Please wait just a little longer.' The voice of the Duke of Destiny, 'Your audience is imminent.'
*readies himself quietly, choosing his arrows wisely..*
Muirfinn nods, as though expecting this, and reaches about carefully for Lief.
Lief is nearby, Muirfinn's hands finding him quickly.
Doing anything or just waiting? If you want to do something, by all means do so.
*panics at the groping hands and tries to bat them away while taking to the air to escape them!*
Muirfinn knows where Lief is now, though! Assuming they're not on the Astral anymore, he attempts to Plane Shift the two of them away!
Plane Shift (Water) again. Take 2!
Nothing happens. The plane shift simply fails.
You can K:A if you want to know more.
[21:53] <Yuthirin> roll 1d20+23
[21:53] <Serith> Yuthirin roll for Serith < 26 >12 [d20=3]
It could be dimensionally locked or be under the control of a powerful entity. There's lots of possibilities here and it's hard to narrow it down, since you don't really know where you are.
OOC: I'm basically holding until I know what's going on. Which means my either not being blind anymore or Muirfinn doing something.
Muirfinn tries the opposite, and attempts to summon a small fire elements to create light!
Speak with Animals sacrificed for SNA 2
Nothing happens. The spell simply fails.
You can K:A again, tortle.
[22:05] <Yuthirin> roll 1d20+23
[22:05] <Serith> Yuthirin roll for Serith < 24 >12 [d20=1]
Sigh.
Muirfinn knows something powerful is disrupting magic here, but he isn't sure what.
Anything else you want to try?
Muirfinn casts Faerie Fire on his staff.
The spell works, though the illumination provides no help seeing anything. It's just dark...empty.
But can I see Lief?
No.
Fuck! Okay, I'll wait.
Silence and darkness. For how long Lief and Muirfinn do not know, until they plummet again. They plummet deep and long, landing face down on something hard. As they recover and reel from it, "Your Dread Majesty," The voice of the Duke of Destiny is heard from ahead, "My honored Prince, the assembled Ashmaida and the Grim Fiend, I present to you two of Aurora's elite officers, as commanded."
*stands up and looks around, trying to evaluate this new area.*
Lief stands. You are in a vast, shadowed hall and on a cold stone floor. The walls stretch higher than you can see, no ceiling in sight. In spite of that, you feel trapped, a sense of claustrophobia constantly creeping into your awareness. The walls are decorated with massive paintings of diabolical scenes, each one moving and showing its subjects in action. There are no windows nor any sign of illumination. There is simply enough light to see by with no apparent source.
90ft away kneel two familiar figures - Prince Lixer and the Duke of Destiny. They kneel before a throne that sits on a raised dais, covered in shadows. Sitting on that throne is a creature, no larger than a human and looking much like one. He wears robes of impossible refinement woven with countless jewels, a red scepter sitting on his lap to go with it. He has a neatly trimmed goatee. His expression is serene, eyes like coal calmly surveying all those who kneel before him.
Besides the throne kneel nine pit fiends. Nessians by the size, each one carrying a dragon's scale like a shield. The lead one stands, carrying a red scale shield. He booms in an overwhelming, horrible voice, "KNEEL BEFORE THE KING OF HELL, WORMS! OFFER TRIBUTE TO THE LORD OF THE NINTH!"
Will saves. Mind-affecting but penetrates immunity. If you are immune, you gain a +9 bonus to the saving throw.
Muirfinn struggles valiantly to remain stoic.
[18:32] <Yuthirin> roll 1d20+9+31+6 so much for Medi being better than everyone else
[18:32] <Serith> Yuthirin roll for Serith < 61 >12 [d20=15]
OOC:
> roll 1d20+24-6+4 Will Save
<Serith> Iddy roll for Serith < 35 > [d20=13]
Lief finds himself unable to move, the thought of doing anything but kneeling impossible. Muirfinn somehow manages to resist. All he wants to do is pay homage, but he keeps his will and mind intact. He can rise, speak and act if he wishes.
Before you, all the other devils grovel before the Lord of the Ninth. "Father," Lixer looks up and breaks this silent worship, "I desire these two as recompense for Castle Crumbling."
At this the Duke of Destiny looks up, a pause as he meets eyes with the Lord of the Ninth. He rises, "Your Majesty, destiny has already dictated who shall own these souls. Lord Bel's claim is worthy, but destiny supports Prince Lixer. Other souls in Aurora are fated to pass into the Lord of the First's hands, but not these two."
Lixer rises as Taelfagn does, "Yes, give them to me." His voice is cold as death, a chill coming to both of you. "The child of Titania can be made into a blight that will sicken the World Tree, while the tortle will poison the oceans."
Chance to react or do anything if you want, since Muirfinn passed the save.
Quick check: I'm assuming it's very very very clear that we're before Asmodeus?
It sure looks that way. Lixer and Taelfagn are kneeling before him. Feel free to make an K:P check here for more info.
[20:22] <Yuthirin> roll 1d20+22 KP
[20:22] <Serith> Yuthirin roll for Serith < 30 >12 [d20=8]
I'm sure the DC on this is relatively low.
It's the real thing, or at least a really good fake.
Well then.
Muirfinn eyes Lixer and Taelfagn with only a hint of disdain. A moment later, his gaze returns to the reclining figure on the throne. He stows his glowing staff, dismissing the faerie flames with a thought. He regards the scene a moment before rising to address Asmodeus himself.
Edited content to reflect events occurring immediately.
I presume to step forward you stand up, as is logical.
The moment Muirfinn tries to rise, an overwhelming force floods his entire body. The Lord of the Ninth has not moved a hair, yet Muirfinn can feel his presence around him, on him, overwhelming him. It is like an ocean around him and he is but a drop of water.
Will save. Good luck.
At work, requesting roll.
> roll 1d20+9+31+6 goodluck tortle
<Serith> Kowork roll for Serith < 62 > [d20=16]
As one may be able to guess, you needed a 20.
Muirfinn tries to rise, but he fails. He falls to his knees as his body is not his own. He prostrates himself before the Lord of the Ninth, perfectly still.
"No," Asmodeus has a commanding voice, quiet and yet assured. It is compelling, enrapturing. "Muirfinn resisted Aesmadeva's command. Such a will is mine." Muirfinn rises up, as if held by the neck, and flies over to dangle before Asmodeus. He leans forward and meets Muirfinn's eyes...
> roll 1d20+9+31+6 goodluck tortle x2
<Serith> Kowork roll for Serith < 65 > [d20=19]
In one moment, all Muirfinn is lies exposed. Every thought, notion, desire and impulse is read as if he is a book. There is the faintest contact with something overwhelming, leaving his mind reeling and shattered. His gaze settles on his clan and children - gone. Ripped away, lost from him. Crusade...cr...something. Something important. The image of a songstress, calling you a brave hero...? Was that once something...? You can't remember.
You are paralyzed but able to speak. You have suffered 9 points of vile ability damage to all three mental ability scores.
OOC: Well, I was going to say something to Muirfinn, but not after this roll:
> roll 1d20+24-6+4 Will Save
<Serith> Iddy roll for Serith < 23 > [d20=1]
Lief tries to speak, to say something. But nothing happens, his mouth refusing to move.
Muirfinn lies there on the floor. "Well...that was hardly sporting."
Asmodeus does not change expression - and those eyes meet yours again. All you are plummets, mind falling apart like torn book pages in the wind. Thoughts crumble into nothingness, darkness claiming everything he is.
One errant thought remains - a smile, a name. Vivan...and it fades into darkness, consumed and lost to him.
Your Int, Wis and Cha are stuck at 0 due to vile ability damage and general mind trauma. You're effectively dead, though Muirfinn's body still lives. For all purposes and short of a stunning reversal, you're off to !rollchar land. I'll post about this in nagging after work tonight.
Meanwhile, Lief can see Muirfinn go limp and then vanish. "Take the pixie," Asmodeus commands, Lixer bowing deeply to him.
I'll post more tonight, Lief, but I'm out of time before work. Feel free to drop a reaction as much as you can in the circumstances.
*tries to glare as much as he can as they do so*
I'm assuming that dying like this doesn't automatically kick my soul back to Water?
It does not. After all, you aren't dead. Reducing your mental ability scores to 0 does not kill you.
http://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/SRD:Ability_Score_Loss
However, you're captured by the Lord of the Ninth and unable to do anything, nor will your ability damage heal naturally (as it is vile damage). For all practical purposes, Muirfinn is dead without outside intervention.
Lixer snaps his fingers, the world around Lief going dim and then dark.
When he awakens, darkness. Darkness and hooded faces - a memory of the battle at Castle Crumbling surfaces. Lixer's Necrolytes, cornugon necromancers. He is tied to something, unable to move. His entire body aches and a pervasive chill wracks his body. He's somewhere pitch black, unable to see a things ave for his captures. What comes next is unspeakable agonies, the only mercy is that Lief can scream. The unholy ritual ends only when a sacrificial dagger plunges into Lief's heart, a moment of relief followed by the endless, eternal misery of undeath.
By general agreement, Iddy and I decided to move this one to its conclusion. There's really not any chance Lief can escape short of praying for divine intervention and getting lucky (1000 on a d1000), so there's little point in dragging this out.
This topic is closed. Muirfinn and Lief both had good runs, perhaps they can be saved by Aurora one day. But that is not today.