The End Of The Multiverse As We Know It (IC)

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ban

The duty guard, eyes wide in shock and fear, collapses like a marionette whose strings were cut, dead before his face slams into the desk. At once, cries of alarm rise from every throat in the room. The other guards mention Cyric's name in incredulous tones, most of the prisoners simply look confused, and a good portion of the prisoners look around shiftily at the mention of a god of murder.

"Silence!" The room quiets at once as the rearmost guard speaks authoritatively over the commotion. He looks essentially the same as all the other guards, but his voice carries an air of command. "Squires, this incursion will not be tolerated. Search for the attacker; he is most likely still here." With that, the man raises a gauntleted fist, recites a soft prayer, and throws out his hand; brilliant light bursts from his open palm, illuminating the dungeon with the light of the noonday sun.

Spoiler

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For initiative, we'll just have you act first (with Zyethar once he arrives) and then all the guards at once. You can still hide, but most of the shadows are gone; only a shadow in front of the desk and the guards' shadows remain.

Laurelin

You feel the Mistress of Magic momentarily envelop you with her warm presence, and soft blue-white sparkles begin to dance along the edges of the Grove's leaves and up and down its trunk. There is a clap of silent thunder, and the Grove stands healed, no trace of black anywhere upon it. The golden spider stops its motion and looks at you, bowing as best an eight-legged being can.

[Niezck]

I take it that's my cue ...

Concentrating on his boots, Zyethar feels the familiar rush of adrenaline as his body is accelerated massively through space until he finds himself stood next to the lead guard, greatsword in hand.

He fiddles with the pommel slightly and speaks out loud to the whole prison before completing his flurry.

Y'know, I was in prison once. Real nasty place it was. Lots of brutality, crime, that sorta thing. You get much of that around here?

Unleashing his flurry of strikes on the lead guard he completes his train of thought.

Oh wait, you're paladins! Of course you get lots of that, what am I thinking?

He chuckles lightly to himself.

Spoiler

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Teleport-Charge

I get +2 Attack from charging and +5 attack/damage from Flashblade. Plus I get to deal skirmish damage for moving more than 20 feet.

All crits are 17-20, X2 and inflict a negative level if successful. Oh and all these attacks are touch attacks due to persistant wraithstrike.

(d20+57)[74] Attack 1
(d20+57)[77] Attack 2
(d20+57)[58] Attack 3
(d20+57)[65] Attack 4
(d20+52)[58] Attack 5
(d20+47)[52] Attack 6
(d20+42)[62] Attack 7

(d20+57)[65] Crit Confirm 1
(d20+57)[60] Crit Confirm 2
(d20+57)[59] Crit Confirm 3
(d20+57)[70] Crit Confirm 4
(d20+52)[61] Crit Confirm 5
(d20+47)[54] Crit Confirm 6
(d20+42)[61] Crit Confirm 7

(2d6+34)[42] + (2d6)[8] Damage 1
(2d6+34)[42] + (2d6)[6] Damage 2
(2d6+34)[37] + (2d6)[7] Damage 3
(2d6+34)[44] + (2d6)[3] Damage 4
(2d6+34)[37] + (2d6)[5] Damage 5
(2d6+34)[38] + (2d6)[6] Damage 6
(2d6+34)[41] + (2d6)[7] Damage 7

Depending on how that turns out, I'll post his other actions. So far he's only taken a move (or would it count as a surprise round? Either way, he's got more actions to come).

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ban and Zyethar

The lead guard stumbles as Zyethar's blade whizzes around and into him faster than the eye can see. Several strikes clang against his armor and against an invisible shield of energy the guard holds that momentarily flashes into visibility when hit. He doesn't look to be in very good shape, but he remains standing, a bit of blood trickling from his lips.

"I resent the implication of any untoward activities taking place in this temple," he growls. "Who are you, and what is your aim here?"

Spoiler

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It's a full round, so Zyethar gets the rest of his actions.

[Niezck]

Drawing Quickfury up again, Zyethar renews his assault, teleporting to the other side of the prison before launching himself back at the lead guard and progressively around his body, attacking him from every direction possible. With each blow he speaks a few words, puting emphasis on them as his blade impacts.

"Oh yeah, all of these poor people are here because they're secretly mass murderers and whatnot. They're just disguised as innocent common town folk!"

Spoiler

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Using a quickened teleport dimension hop to get about 100ft away on the other side of the prison, then teleport-charging back as a full-round action. I've added the teleporting around him bit just for flavour, he'll start and end in the same square I just think it sounds cool

As before, crits on 17-20 with negative levels attached and all attacks are touch attacks.

Technically, my Flashblade ability would activate again giving me a total of +10 attack/damage plus the charging abilities, dunno if you'd allow that though, so I'll just add the +5.

Also, Ban gains a +5 morale bonus to attack and damage rolls this round, as do all the prisoners. All the guards have to make a DC 20 will save or take a -5 morale penalty to attack and damage. It's a non-magical mind-affecting ability.

Oh and the lead guard is caught flat-footed as well as these being touch attacks.

And finally, I'll burn a 9th level spell slot for arcane strike.

So:
Swift: Quickened Dimension Hop to move 100ft back.
Free: Arcane Strike a 9th level slot
Full-Round: Teleport-Charge the lead guard, using Shock and Awe and Flashblade.

(d20+66)[68] Attack 1
(d20+66)[81] Attack 2
(d20+66)[81] Attack 3
(d20+66)[81] Attack 4
(d20+61)[71] Attack 5
(d20+56)[71] Attack 6
(d20+51)[67] Attack 7

(d20+66)[81] Crit 1
(d20+66)[86] Crit 2
(d20+66)[70] Crit 3
(d20+66)[83] Crit 4
(d20+61)[74] Crit 5
(d20+56)[63] Crit 6
(d20+51)[68] Crit 7

[roll]2d6+34[/roll + (2d6)[7] + (9d4)[21] Damage 1
[roll]2d6+34[/roll + (2d6)[11] + (9d4)[24] Damage 2
[roll]2d6+34[/roll + (2d6)[7] + (9d4)[23] Damage 3
[roll]2d6+34[/roll + (2d6)[7] + (9d4)[22] Damage 4
[roll]2d6+34[/roll + (2d6)[8] + (9d4)[21] Damage 5
[roll]2d6+34[/roll + (2d6)[7] + (9d4)[27] Damage 6
[roll]2d6+34[/roll + (2d6)[6] + (9d4)[24] Damage 7

The lead guard must then make a DC 28 will save or be dazed for 1 round, thanks to persisted Blade Weave.

[Niezck]

Fixing rolls:

Spoiler

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(2d6+34)[41] 1
(2d6+34)[41] 2
(2d6+34)[41] 3
(2d6+34)[40] 4
(2d6+34)[43] 5
(2d6+34)[44] 6
(2d6+34)[43] 7

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ban and Zyethar

With every strike from Zyethar's sword, the guard grows weaker and weaker; blood begins flowing freely from many wounds in the weak points of his armor. After the first few strikes, his wounds pulse with a deep blue light and most of them close; his newer wounds mostly healed, he maintains his footing and glares at Zyethar, eyes glowing blue with healing energy.

"For your information," he says with labored breaths, "many of these 'innocent townsfolk' are...here on suspicion of secretly being mass...murderers, which you presumably already know if...the assassin who slew the duty guard was...with you, which I assume is...in fact the case." He takes a deep breath and straightens his back. "I ask again...who are you, and what is your purpose here? Answer me, or I--" At this point his hand strays to his belt, and he realizes he has been disarmed. "Squires! Check blades!" Noises of chagrin and anger indicate that the others, too, have discovered that they have been disarmed. They appear ready to charge Zyethar, but at a look from their leader they hold off.

The head guard looks back at Zyethar calmly. "I am willing to entertain a peaceful...resolution to this conflict, should your purpose for being...here permit it. However, I am...willing and able to defend...myself and am honor-bound to defend those...in my charge." He holds his hands as if wielding a sword, and a moment later he is--a silvery glowing bastard sword, to be precise. He waves one hand without taking his eyes off you, and five translucent bastard swords appear in the air around him, hovering in guard position. "What say you?"

Zyethar

Spoiler

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The leader was affected by three heal spells, manifested the call weaponry power, and cast five spiritual weapon spells.

[Chambers]

Ban

They never learn. Light only brings more shadows. Floating over the corpse of the guard at the desk Ban flies toward the lead guard. He flits from shadow to shadow, appearing next to each guard for a split second before flicking towards the next.

Dropping into the lead guards own shadow he reaches out and lightly touches the holy warrior on his shoulder. "My name is Ban..." he whispers in the guards ear, "...and I say you die."

Fading away into the shadow again, Ban flits between the guards. Drawing all the shadows around him, he releases those hiding the stolen swords.

Spoiler

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Flyby Attack, using Confer the Void on the lead guard. Then moving about 15ft away from him, hiding in the guards shadows.

Confer the Void is a touch attack and the lead guard should be flat-footed against it (if he is able to be flat-footed).

Hide (1d20+91)[109]
Move Silently (1d20+78)[79]

Confer the Void (1d20+34)[36]
Dispel Checks (Don't know how many are needed - each spell level dispelled is 1d12 untyped damage, max 25d12.

Spoiler

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(1d20+30)[36]
(1d20+30)[50]
(1d20+30)[44]
(1d20+30)[40]
(1d20+30)[37]
(1d20+30)[45]
(1d20+30)[31]
(1d20+30)[46]
(1d20+30)[34]
(1d20+30)[32]
(1d20+30)[36]
(1d20+30)[33]
(1d20+30)[40]
(1d20+30)[40]
(1d20+30)[40]

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ban and Zyethar

Startled by Ban's touch, the leader wrenches himself out of the way with a shout. A dark miasma extends from Ban's hand, but it dissipates before it can begin to eat away at the guard's magic. The nearest guard charges Ban as soon as he appears, swinging wildly with his fists, but misses by a mile. Meanwhile, the moment the swords appear, the prisoners in the two cells closest to them snap them up eagerly and move into stances showing verying levels of combat prowess, waiting for a chance to be released and attack their captors.

The leader looks around at the situation and clenches a fist in frustration. "I said we can try to...resolve this peacefully! Why do you persist in attempting to kill us if your...goal is simply to rescue these murderers? Surely you...realize that cessation of hostilities is...best for all involved?" He scowls and tightens his grip on his weapon. "If you do not stop, I will be...forced to execute these prisoners. Instant justice is still justice."

Spoiler

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Ban's Confer the Void misses, unfortunately.

Guard's readied charge action:
Attack: (1d20+12)[22]; Damage: (1d3+31)[34]

[Exthalion]

Gazing at the wondrous golden tree Laurelin's eyes began to lose focus. Suddenly they were in ever quickening motion, reading the words writ all over the tree. The tangle of the roots, the shape of the bark, the pattern of the leaves, all of it beautiful and full of magic. As if looking at the tree for the first time he beheld a bird and a serpent in the upper branches.

With an effort of will he stopped himself. There was much to be done and little time to do it.

"Tell me friend what of you? I come to take these things from this place. Perhaps for a time if it should be restored. Perhaps to another fair and wonderful place. I would not leave you to suffer the predations of the shadow or of the enemies of our people. Would you that I send you onward, a penitent before the Lady?"

[Chambers]

Ban

The guards fist lost in a swirl of shadows, Ban floats away from the leader. Instant justice? Perhaps he has some sort of magic connection that could slay them with a word.

A voice comes out of the shadows, soft and low. "Do you speak true? Would you release the prisoners and allow us and them to leave?"

Spoiler

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Talking from the shadows. I don't know what kind of penalty you want to adjudicate for that.

Hide (1d20+91)[109]
Move Silently (1d20+78)[91]

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ban and Zyethar

The leader looks around for the source of Ban's voice and, not immediately finding one, simply looks back at Zyethar. His sword remains in a ready position, though he takes advantage of the momentary pause in combat to heal himself further. "I have not yet agreed to any arrangement, but rest assured that should we negotiate a settlement I am a man of my word." He indicates the prisoners holding swords, who look vaguely disappointed that they may not get to use them. "Some of these are, as I said, suspected members of a cult of Cyric, and were to be punished accordingly. Granted, they have not been proven to be associated with the cult, and none have been proven to have committed murder, but there is to be a fair trial to establish these things; any innocents are to be freed, and any guilty to be suitably punished. I cannot simply allow them to go free unpunished, but the lives of my squires take precedence, even if by the Watcher's grace they could be restored to us later." He shakes his head. "I do not like to make decisions unilaterally, but something less strict could be arranged, perhaps a mark of judgment or magical binding against murder."

His eyes harden as he looks around at the cells. "Others are here for proven crimes. Murderers and rapists, thieves and arsonists, hardened criminals all of them. Those I cannot allow to go free unpunished, as their guilt has been firmly established." He once again scans the room for any sign of Ban, then looks back to Zyethar. "Helm granted us a vision in our communion with him, warning us to station a Knight-Vindicator here in preparation for an assault of some sort, but I was not aware of the reason. By your companion's proclamation, I assume rescuing the Cyrites was your goal, so those terms should be acceptable to you."


Laurelin

The golden spider climbs the trunk until it reaches your eye level, then turns to face you. Long have I stood watch here, barely conscious and barely alive. If you have truly come to return these scrolls to the Lady of Magic, I would gladly return to my mortal form and bask in Her glory until my last breath, and beyond. Tyvollus's voice echoes in your mind, definitely that of an old and tired high mage but not nearly as old and tired as you would expect from one in his position. Are Darcassan's words true? Will you be returning the Grove to the Dweomerheart?

[Exthalion]

"It is as you say. The Golden Skin of the World Serpent was created long ago, a compilation of the hymns of the Lady. What you have done to it has wrought a living praying.

However, my task is not yet done and I have but one request. I require the knowledge which can be learned from the consideration of the roots and bark, from the shape and pattern of the leaves, from the sound of the bird and the serpent, and from the sound of the leaves.

The Lady has said unto me that that knowledge from consideration of the whole is to be kept from me, and I know already a little of the voice of the dragon and the rest the Lady has bared me from.

I pray that is acceptable for you. The Golden Grove of Hidden Knowledge is a prayer to Mystra. It is long past time she received it.

If such would set you to her embrace I am glad. But what of Darcassan? I would not leave him here for an eternity alone. Moreover, the Destroyer of Worlds is nearly free. I had hoped to gather to strength of Evermeet and of the mortal casters of this Toril if possible to aid me in the quest of his resealing.

Have you any advice for me?"

[Chambers]

Ban

Whispers come from the darkness. "The wheat will be separated from the chaff before the thresher. Be not the wheat nor the chaff." Doubt the Helmite will know what that means, but the 'cultists' will.

"We are leaving with the cultists, unmarked. Do what you will with the rest." Ban pauses a moment, floating over to the dead guard. "And do not trust in the sacrifice of your squires. You can not return them to life from where I will take them." Ban extends the shadows to the dead guard, hiding the corpse from view. "Agree, and he will be returned."

Spoiler

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The cryptic phrase isn't a code or anything - just a well-known maxim among the cult of Bhaal. It basically means don't be the killer or the murdered - be the knife that Bhaal wields. Just dropping it so the cultists know I'm legit.

...and SoH (DC 80) on the dead guard. He's technically an object now, so I can hide the body. Just hoping to put some fear for the squires souls into the lead guard.

Sleight of Hand (1d20+78)[84]

[Niezck]

"What's to stop me simply taking all of the Cyrites out of here right now before opening a rift in the fabric of the plane for you all to fall into to your death?"

Zyethar fiddles with his sword before continuing.

Frankly, you have no leg to stand on. I'm surprised you've stayed to be honest, they normally run. Not that running can help when I can cross the multiverse in a matter of seconds. Consider this a chance to give up and let us take those we came for.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ban and Zyethar

At the disappearance of the dead squire, the leader flinches, but his expression remains calm. "Such is exactly the reason I value my squires' lives despite the possibility of resurrection; soul-destroying or -trapping magic is far too common for my liking," he says bitterly. "Is it not enough for you to rend someone's soul from their body? Must you also deprive them of their eternal reward as well?" He sneers in disgust. "I hear the rumors about our order and others--we Helmites are intolerant, biased, obsessed with minutiae of the law--but despite all the protestations to the contrary, it is those like you who are the truly despicable ones. If we are less forgiving than the people would like, it is because murderers and serial killers like you walk the streets; if we are biased against suspected criminals, it is because monsters like you have given us no reason to feel otherwise."

The prisoners are sticking out their tongues at the leader and mockingly imitating him. The squires look like they dearly want to punish them, but they aren't going the interrupt their leader to do so.

"And you!" The leader wheels to face Zyethar, brow furrowed and mouth scowling. "You sicken me. We defend, we protect, we bring criminals to justice. You skulk about in the night, your partner assassinating a knight in training--one serving as a desk clerk, for Helm's sake!--and then have the audacity, the pure gall, to demand that I release a band of depraved cultists of a depraved god or else you will indiscriminately murder us, hunting us down and killing us if we should refuse. You are everything that is wrong with this world."

He narrows his eyes. "I am willing to release the cultists with a lesser punishment, as I gave my word to that effect. I am not willing to simply release them, I am not willing to stand by and be threatened by the likes of you, and I am not under any circumstances going to let you escape justice should you harm another hair on the head of any of my squires."

Laurelin

The spider's eyes flash green, and it shudders visibly. The Devourer is nearly free? Mystra forfend! Even Ao could not stand against such as He in the fullness of His power, and though I have been unaware of the world for many centuries, I much doubt Ao has grown in power, or the other shrunk, enough to make a difference. Tell me, he thinks to you, his mental voice most urgent, how many of the Jewels of the Void have been brought against His prison? One? A handful? Dozens? Hundreds? If there are but a few left to use, we would have felt His nearing escape, but even if only half have been used we are in dire peril indeed.

He pauses thoughtfully. There may still be time. Even were every wielder of the Art in Evermeet were to study the Grove, sheer power is not the answer. Undoing the cracks in His prison is what must be done, and developing spells to do that is something at which the high mages would be most adept. He nods, a comical expression on a spider. Yes. Return me and the Grove and the portrait to the Dweomerheart and take Darcassan to Evermeet. He shall vouch for you, and there you can inform all of elfkind of the danger we face.

[Chambers]

Ban

You know his words are true. We are all murderers and deserve nothing less. Ban looks down at the corpse laying on the desk. But punishment must be delayed. If there is time afterwards...if there is a world.... Ban shakes his head and slowly arranges the arms of the dead guard, laying them across his chest in repose, passes his hand over the slack face, closing the eyes. His dagger disappears into it's wrist sheath. He too may have a part to play in this.

Floating back towards the lead guard he rises to the ceiling, out of reach of the squires. He dismisses the shadows, showing the corpse and himself, his hands outspread.

"I know you speak the truth, for you would fain die before you speak untrue about your calling, your devotion. Know now that I speak the truth about mine." He tilts his head slightly back. "You call me a murderer and you speak the truth. Admit that I know more about what it means to take a life. Or have you ever held someone close as you stole their last breath? That is an intimacy you have not known."

He matches the lead guards stare. "What I am about is larger than you or me...larger even then my god or yours. Believe it. What I must do...I require their assistance." He says, nodding towards the cultists. "And I must have them unhindered. Though you despise our sacrament...now it may be used to stave off a greater danger than...than you can ever imagine."

"I cannot have them marked; you cannot let them leave unpunished." He nods. "As it should be; if we were to abide any less, we would not be who we are. So I propose not a release, but a parole. I will be responsible for their actions. They will partake in no wanton slaying; those that do...I will lay their corpse at your doorstep. The goal I have is nothing less than impossible...and every blade will be needed. Even yours." He nods at the guard. "Which is why I am willing to negotiate, so that all strengths may be brought to bear...yours included."

"If you have doubts that I can do this...consider this. You could not stop me from entering here, from killing in your place of power. Imagine how less these few could stop me. They know me better than you...and know that I have both the power and the will to do what I say."

Spoiler

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No Bluff, just truth.

[Niezck]

Chipping in with his passive-aggressive tone, Zyethar adds.

"Also consider that I could drop each and every one of your squires in a different part of the multiverse, all parts equally as hostile, and be back before you ever knew I was gone. Honestly, I've done it before with more people."

At the last part he smirks, clearly proud.

[Exthalion]

"I know not the number of the gems. However, my investigations seem to indicate that his release is not immediately imminent. However to do nothing will invite disaster.

I swear I shall do as you ask, but please here me. This spirit is young though my soul is old. I have not yet relearned the whole of the Art that is my inheritance. Thus I sought the power of the Grove.

Would you be willing to make use of the magic of mind? Would you add to me the lore herein? For I know you have studied the Grove in full. As I am I fear I have not strength enough to do this task.

Moreover, my knowledge of high magic is incomplete. Only though the voice of the elder days, as through the Lore Gems, do I comprehend it."

His sigh is heavy, even for him. It was common among mortals, even the elves, to worry that they lived in such times. Having lived through all such times he had thought himself beyond complaint. Yet ever, ever there was some new great evil against which he must pit his mind and magic.

"Darcassan, please gather the treasures of this place. Though they are the inheritance of our people this place is no longer safe for them. Better they be with the Lady then found by one who would misuse of be consumed by them."

A strange light entered his eyes before he continued.

"There wouldn't happen to be any with which I could outfit myself would there? I have remembered many caches from which my current assortment is derived, yet it is as of yet incomplete."

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ban and Zyethar

The leader laughs humorlessly. "Ah, yes. Appeal to some vague purpose above and beyond the gods for which you require the aid of a gaggle of cultists, claim I can hold your word as sacrosanct as my own, and then threaten myself and my wards." He shakes his head. "The sheer arrogance is overwhelming. Why should I believe that you, seemingly a worshiper of the same cult, would stop the murderers and assassins from murdering and assassinating? Why should I trust either of you, who have obviously killed many creatures before with no regard for their lives, to have the honor not to kill us once you have what you want?"

He raises his blade to point at Zyethar, looking down its length into his eyes. "The Knights-Vindicator are not some...police force to apprehend common thieves, some company of gaol wardens. Yes, in our training we take on such duties to learn of duty and responsibility and the will of the people, but full Knights-Vindicator work to protect the people from the likes of archmages and unholy knights. Our order has helped keep Waterdeep safe many a time." He raises and eyebrow. "I myself held off the two of you with no advance warning, something which, judging from your boasts, is uncommon, and I am not the strongest of my order. Righteousness and justice will always triumph over deceit and lawlessness; do you really wish to make an enemy of the entire Order by slaying my squires and destroying this temple?"

He lowers his sword, but does not drop his ready stance. "I will release these prisoners with a mark of justice and a geas to commit no offenses against the law. Anything less is unacceptable."

Laurelin

To add the knowledge of another to the Scrolls is something very few times attempted, but I sense that your wisdom and knowledge would be valuable additions. Tyvollus turns to Darcassan. I have been insensible for too long to know of the treasures of this place. Are there...? Darcassan's image shakes its head. "Alas, the vast majority of the wealth of Myth Drannor has been stolen over the centuries by grave-robbers and adventurers, as well as the Zhents and Thayans which currently maintain a base of operations here and the Alliance formed to drive out the demons summoned here in 1375, well-meaning as those Allies were. There are still very small caches here and there, but they are disappearing by the month; even with four projections patrolling the ruins, I can only stop so many interlopers. Did you have any particular items in mind?"

[Niezck]

A rare thing happens, Zyethar takes on a diplomatic and logical tone.

You fended off but the tip of the iceberg, dear templar. My power goes far beyond a few sword strokes and I am certain you would not brush my other abilities aside. Anyway, I don't take you for common police, but rather for oppressors and dictators, forcing your own morals on others by way of the sword. Something, as you can see, I'm very much against. These people have as much right to worship their long-lost god as you do your present one. Simply because their ideals differ from yours does not allow you to lock them up and charge them.

Imagine you were in their position, truly believing your "goodness" to be the correct act where the majority believe their way is the right one. Imagine you are persecuted and imprisoned, or worse, simply based on your faith.

Looking at his blade, Zyethar sheathes it and takes a step back.

Any way, if it's authority and trust you require, I will give you that. I am Elirhondas Zyethar, head of the Black Table of Elirhondas, Shadow Citadel of the Illumian race. By my rule, I swear to you that these men will be kept to the promise my assassin-friend makes. If they do not, you have a direct authority to take this matter to, a legitimate and powerful government with which you may talk to. Is this acceptable?

((Here's to hoping he's got ranks in Knowledge: The Planes))

[PairO'Dice Lost]

As Zyethar speaks of the cultists' rights, the knight-vindicator rolls his eyes and begins talking over him. "Yes, yes. Do not recite to me the old canard of Good and Evil being equally valid, two sides of the same coin, and so on and so forth. Helm may remain neutral in that particular conflict, but He and we know that evil is--" He stops short as Zyethar identifies himself, his eyebrows creeping up his forehead in skepticism and threatening to leap off the top. "That...is a persuasive argument, assuming it is true." He stands thoughtfully for a moment, then recites a short prayer and speaks to the air: "Greetings, Loremaster Unnhas of Oghma. Vigilant Gareth of Helm requests a likeness of the head of the Elirhondas Black Table at your convenience. Many thanks."

You three stand there in an uncomfortable silence for a short while, other guards whispering among themselves and the prisoners heckling the Helmites every so often. Eventually, the leader closes his eyes tightly...opens one eye to look at Zyethar...closes both eyes..opens one eye...opens both eyes. "It seems," he says grudgingly, "that you speak the truth, though why you felt a secret invasion necessary rather than going through the proper channels I do not know. Take the cultists; the Order shall hold the assassin responsible for their parole, and shall hold Elirhondas responsible for his word." He finally sheathes his sword, and motions for the guards to release the Bhaalites.

[Niezck]

The Black Table and I have certain ... disagreements ... about our methods. But yes, you will see that his word is kept, I assure you.

((Assuming Ban doesn't do anything crazy ...))

Turning to Ban (or his last known location at least), Zyethar winks and questions "Where d'you want me to take them?"

After hearing where Ban wishes for them to go, Zyethar begins teleporting the prisoners out with a series of teleports in quick succession until all the prisoners are gone.

[Chambers]

Ban

The shadows start to surround Ban again at the guards refusal, but Zyethar's interruption causes him to pause. Well...so there is more to him than an unhealthy desire to kill paladins. Interesting. His status may prove to be useful.

As weapons are sheathed and prisoners released, Ban walks over to the corpse lying on the desk. "Go to Brother, I'll catch up." He says, looking down at the dead guard. There is nothing I can do for you...but I do not think your captain is ready to let you sleep for good.

"Helmite." He says, half-turning to look at the lead guard. "I am forbidden by my order to do anything for him, or restore him in any way, else his sacrifice would be worthless. All my faith requires is a token..." He says, slipping a button off the dead guards cloak with his dagger, his action hidden beneath the shadows. "...but the body I may leave where it fell." He steps back away from the corpse, smoothly hiding the button in his pocket.

He looks over at the cultists as they leave with Zyethar. "I'll meet you there; there is a thing I must not leave unfinished." With a final curt nod to the lead guard, he vanishes from sight.

My hand will heal soon enough...but I cannot leave my blood behind. That...would be more than foolish.

Spoiler

Show

Sleight of Hand to steal the button, then stealth and flying upstairs to wipe his blood off the door. If nothing stops him he'll continue on to meet-up with brother von.

[Niezck]

As the last of the Bhaalites are teleported back to meet Brother Von, Zyethar finds Ban and pulls him to one side.

Is this all you need to do? Or is there more? We need to meet Laurian by noon today and I've yet to contact Elirhondas, so I'd appreciate it if you could handle things from now while I go and talk to the Black Table?

[Chambers]

Ban

A shadow floats over the dark city streets. Was the guard right? Should we have simply asked first, instead of attacking? Torch lights flicker as the shadow flies near. A secluded couple shiver, pulling their cloaks around them from a sudden chill as the shadow passes over. Closer together, they resume their attentions to each other.

Ban watches them as he flies away. In another time...if there were more time...perhaps he'd be right. For another person, that might be the right action. He shakes his head. But for me? What else can I give, what other aid can I offer besides what I know, what I am? I have one gift to give...but even that may not be enough. The shadow flies past rooftops, around alleys, passes windows with the light of people within. They hate me for what I am...but if I can save them, perhaps they will only kill me when it is over, be satisfied merely with my death.

But not now. Retribution must be delayed. I am not strong enough now to do what must be done. He glances at the homeless people, huddling in the streets. I must become something more than just myself. The shadow flies faster, flitting across the district. Only death itself can slay such a god...only the purest killing blow could slay him. I...must first erase that which is not death, not murder. All that is not killing must be killed.

The shadow slows down in front of the safe-house. ...I...I don't know if I can do that. Bhaal...if you hear my thoughts, then you know my heart. Show me what must be done.

The shadow slips through an open window, Brother Von, Zyethar and the rescued cultists in the room. A voice comes from the darkness. "Go ahead and take care of your business." The shadows cloud together and then separate, revealing Ban standing in their midst. "I will meet you and the other where and when we agreed." He looks at Zyethar a moment, his eyes distant. He nods and says "Thanks for your help tonight." He turns to the cultists, walks over and clasps Brother Von's arm. "The rest of the night is for us. We have...many things to talk about."

[Niezck]

Indeed, I'll see you later today I guess. You're welcome. Heh, perhaps you'll repay me some day! With a wink he vanishes, his body sent hurtling through the multiverse to the one place he's needed most yet wants to be the least.

Arriving back in the familiar halls of the Shadow Metropolis, Zyethars sighs heavily before walking into the chambers of the Black Table.

Pushing open both doors, he addresses the council at once, his voice booming into the chamber and overriding anybody currently talking.

My fellow children of Tarmuid! I require a great service of you, one which will be ultimately taxing but will grant eternal freedom to not only our people, but to all in existance!

Having caught the attention of the Black Table, he steps into the centre of the room, looking at each director in turn.

I speak of the great devourer! The god that would undo all creation on a whim! My fellow Illumians, this creature is near freedom! I have become part of a secret counsel to prevent the release of this eternal evil and, for that, I require the help of the Table once more. I require every Illumian man, woman and child to perform this service. To stop the ultimate evil from escaping, we must counteract his misguided worshippers at every turn and, alas, we few counsel members cannot do this alone!

Unsheathing his blade, Zyethar traces his finger down the edge as he continues.

Every cabal member must be told. These cultists must be stopped and, for that, we must put our petty differences aside and unite under one banner. I put forward to you, oh great Table members, that we form an army! Led by the Shadow Sentinels and fuelled by Tarmuid himself, we can march our people to victory against this unimaginable foe! These cultists will tremble before our might as we decimate their shrines to the forsaken one! Are you with me, my brothers? Will you help me save our people from eternal damnation?

[Exthalion]

"Be at peace, I desired nothing with particular urgency. Darcassan, please wait a short time. I shall return directly.

Now then, let Mystra all wonderful, most worthy of praise, look with favor on her servant. For I return to her er my promise is completed in full. Yet what I have said I shall do I shall do, for she deserves no less.

The thing itself, seen by men and elves as the Nether Scrolls, is about to fulfill its purpose. Even though few if any have seen this far, since before their creation they were meant to return to the Lady, the union of the prayers of magic by the mortal races since this world was young.

Oh Mystra, Gentle in Strength and Joy of my desiring, before you I am less then the dust. Though you have stretched your Weave over all the world and through it all may know your love I am insufficient for your will. My ignorance has prevented me from readiness for the task I now perform.

Though the strength of my mind and the force of my will is less then the wind of the butterfly's wings I must set them to this task. Oh Mystra, Hope of all nations, I pray you look not in anger on your servant and his presumption. In this thing I do not seek to mock your great work. For before the Weave my own power is small and vacuous and weak.

Oh Lady of Mysteries I pray that I should never again be found wanting in your service."

Many Psions or Erduites did not love Mystra or her wonders. They did not see the magic which they did. They did not comprehend that their minds did on a tiny scale what Mystra did with power. Laurelin did not share there ignorance. With the strength of his mind the reached out, drawing raw magic into well ordered paths and channels. In so doing he made a small and imperfect copy of the Weave. From the Weave he had learned the paths and runes of magic. Now he copied them with psionic might.

With eyes closed he placed his hand palm upward such that the spider could easily rest an arm of three on it. When it did so he let lose the magic and mental focus he had obtained.

To Dweomerheart, to the very court of Mystra he sought to go. The spell itself did not grant that kind of certainty. Neither did his imperfect copy. Wherever they ended up it would be the matter of a simple spell to go where he wished. Yet the place where Mystra dwelt in glory was not as other planes. Such magic as this was in her control and so if she willed them to her court then there they would go.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ban

Von chuckles and clasps your arm in a gesture of gratitude. "Yes we do, yes we do indeed. I was worried about you, after our...conversation earlier, but from what the Kukris told me, ol' Liquid Night is back in business." At that, the whispers start: Liquid Night? The Dagger in the Dark? The legendary Bhaalyn assassin, here? Personally helping them? Impossible! But yet....

The cultists crowd around you, eagerly asking about your exploits, whether this or that rumor is true, what your favorite weapon is, what your best kill was, and so forth. Just when the attention threatens to grow too irritating, Mother Lirith pushes through the clump of cultists, shooing them away for now. "Favored of Bhaal," she begins, "there is no way we can repay you. Certainly, Bhaal will reward you when He returns to the fullness of His power, but I wish to thank you myself. I have trained all of the Kukris and Katars in the Western Heartlands, to a greater or lesser degree, and the thought that I would lose so many of my pupils to Helm's mockery of justice in front of my very eyes before I too wandered the Fugue Plain with them was one I could hardly bear."

She kneels before you. "Whatever service we can offer you we shall gladly perform. Tell us what needs to be done." After an uncertain moment, the other cultists fall to their knees as well, still gossiping quietly.

Zyethar

The Black Table seems less than enthusiastic. Elirhondas Gyrinar, a newer member still in the "petty politicking" phase of Table leadership, stands to face you. "You and your secret councils. You are constantly running off and amusing yourself with various trivial errands, Zyethar, instead of taking your duties seriously!" A grumble goes around the council chamber--it isn't right to speak of you that way, or any leader of the Black Table. Next to stand is Narhandiil Kyaureth, one of the rare few Black Table members in Elirhondas history to have been born in a different cabal. "Gyrinar," he says firmly, "you overreach your station. Zyethar has always put the needs of the illumian people first...although," he adds in a mildly rebuking tone, "you have been away for several years now...."

"I am perfectly within my rights, Narhandiil Kyaureth, to question why we should dance to the whims of an absentee leader. We are to 'put our petty differences aside' and form an army?" He rolls his eyes and scoffs loudly. "Where is your proof, Zyethar? Why should we believe you that the Great Devourer is going to break free when it's been sealed away since before Tarmuid's ascension and its cultists have shown no sign of success in the past few millennia at least?" A third council member speaks--Elirhondas Qenuelem, a close political ally of yours. "Because we trust him, Gyrinar," she answers sharply, "or had you forgotten that leadership of this Table is not simply chosen at random? I too wish to hear evidence of the Devourer's nearing release, but this accusatory tone is not warranted."

Somewhat chastened, Gyrinar reluctantly takes his seat again, and Kyaureth follows suit. "Zyethar's wanderlust was known, acknowledge, and approved by this council long before he was appointed to it, and it is irrelevant to the here and now. Now, please, Zyethar, share with us what you know about the Devourer's cult and what they are doing, and we can make a calm, reasoned decision"--she shoots a glance at Gyrinar--"about whether Elirhondas will join in this endeavor."

Laurelin

You find yourself in the Dweomerheart as expected, drawn there by the will of the Lady before whom you now stand. To your left floats the portrait and to your right hovers the Grove; Tyvollus stands to his full spidery height in your open palm and bows low to Mystra. My Lady...it is the greatest honor I can imagine to finally find myself in your presence after these many long years.

Your service and your dedication to me are unsurpassed, Tyvollus; should you wish it, you may continue to serve me here, in your own true form, for as long as you desire.

At Tyvollus's effusive acceptance, the spider floats out of your palm toward Mystra, and with none of the fanfare characteristic of mortal magic the spider is replaced by a young sun elf with golden hair the same shade as the spider's fur. He immediately prostrates himself before his Mistress.

Smiling kindly at Tyvollus, Mystra looks back at you.

You have never been found wanting in my service, dear one. Your gifts mean more to me than you know.

[Niezck]

Staring at Gyrinar for a moment, Zyethar speaks to the council as a whole though clearly directing his speech at Kyaureth.

My brothers, I have nothing but my word to sway you on this matter. Know that these past two days I have been summoned by arguably the mightest mage in Toril and requested to aid them. With him I met the infamous assassin Ban, known only as a legend to most, and we set forth to Toril. These two have been in league with a number of other mighty beings and have bore witness to the devourer himself! Through arcane crystals, the elder god is kept chained. However, his cultists are collecting these crystals in an attempt to free him! If all are brought together and broken, this timeless evil will be released!

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

I am aware that these cultists have attempted to release their god in the past as well, yet have never been successful. This time, however, they may well be. They have already gathered over half the crystals and seek now to find the rest! This is why Elirhondas must unite. This is why we must create a force strong enough to march against these cultists and sieze their crystals of doom! This is why I come to you now, humbled by the task at hand, something any of you that know me would realise is rare. If this were any less of a task, you know that myself along with several other equally powered beings would be able to accomplish it with ease. The fact that we each are going to our faithful and requesting the help of nations and entire continents should be proof to the fact that this is indeed a great challenge!

[Exthalion]

"Lady, only by your grace do I please you. For my own effort can not compare. I beg your forgiveness for the state of the portrait. When next come before you it is my hope that I shall have all of them to return to you. Now I beg your leave that my promise to you shall not be left undone."

Bowing deeply he once again plane shifted away. Once returned to the City of Song he found the spirit whom he had left.

"Come my friend, it is time you returned to the People."

After taking the spirits hand he teleported to Evermeet. Discretely he watched Darcassan's reaction. It could be rather traumatic after all this time.