[4e] Adventures in the Planes - IC

[Nai_Calus]

Eltain remains silent throughout Asheroth's alternate reality, no longer surprised by any of this. The color has once again fled from him with the return of the bitter cold that surrounds him at his weakest, worst moments. When Zyrr's pleading comes, he turns to the drow and looks down at him, frowning.

"How can I possibly promise that when I..." He sighs, his breath fogging in the warmer air surrounding him. He chuckles darkly. "I might as well be a drow too. I don't know, maybe that's even comforting given your upbringing." He grabs a fistful of platinum hair and glares at it and the snow-white hand clutching it. Drow sometimes had silver hair. "I'm just an albino drow. That's what the winter fey might as well be to the worlds right now. Hells, always. Albino drow." He drops his hair, his shoulders slumping.

"I'll do what I can, yes. But I won't hurt the real you, Zyrr. You know I can't do that." He reaches out and squeezes Zyrr's hand, and while his touch is like ice, the sad smile that warms his face is genuine.

-----

As the world switches again, the last of what little warmth had been left in Eltain freezes over. He remains silent through the introductions, anger quivering below the surface as he looks about, as well as uncomfortable thoughts that burn like fire. He doesn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of making it through much of this. He resists the urge to rail against this reality and Queen Mab and everything else he can think of. He looks at Aramil's former mentor, his supposed teacher here, and while he has no qualm against the man, a spark flares in him as he thinks back to his real training.

Give him a family and he became a tyrant. Give him... Whatever had happened here, and he was a novice nobody. Was the only way his life was worth anything for it to be destroyed from the beginning? Did he truly have no value outside of his service to Corellon? He shakes his head and shoves that off. No, that's just Mab screwing with his head. He looks about the cheerful reality and realizes he wants no part of it himself. It's a horrible thought on the surface, but he shoves that off.

No, Elfire Greensword was not the one who had taught him magic and bladework. That had been Ephram Theryn, the kind if slightly sarcastic swordmage who'd seen a forgotten child's thirst for knowledge and given it freely. And others, too. He lets the memories flood him, finding strength and solace in them.

Strange, distant Saresha Nelarin, the former high priest of the temple that Eltain had been raised at, who had never truly seemed to care, but had recognized the talent and the faith and the desire to be something more that had blazed in him even as the other priests had sneered at him and wanted him out from underfoot. Kind, warm Aaryn Caelin, the human priest who'd taken him in the mortal world when he'd fled there, who'd taught him the true meaning of Beauty, who'd shown him one day when he was drowning in self-doubt another man that had changed his life forever: Isri Arellan, the drow high priest of Corellon, the founder and leader of the Order of the Azure Star.

And Aramil himself. The real one, who'd been the one who had finally taught Eltain the secret to the way Eladrin slipped through the cracks in reality, who'd helped him train further. Zyrr, the drow who'd challenged his faith before reminding him that faith needed to be given before it could be rewarded. Pavick, the gnome whose heart was so big it was a wonder it fit in his chest. Lucan, whose eternal cluelessness both wore on Eltain's patience and warmed his heart. Asheroth, the strange warlock whom he'd promised to help.

No, there was nothing here for him. The reality he lived was perhaps terrible and frightening at times, but he had what he needed to get through it. He gives a friendly smile to the false Aramil.

"I've heard so much about you. It's nice to meet you." He bows slightly. "It's an honor for me to be in such illustrious company." He nods and crosses to the bench.

"Asheroth is right. As nice as this might seem, it isn't real, and while we tarry here, the world goes on outside without us and our time grows ever shorter. Mab is trying to screw with us, and not in the good sense of the term. You're even smarter than I am, so I know you can see that." He sighs and looks around.

"I know it's nice to see things like this. But that man over there, that's not the Aramil I know. Not the one who taught me how to teleport like an Eladrin, not the one who led so many armies to victory over the last year, not the one who Corellon himself has singled out as someone he wants to see lead the Green Court someday. You are the Aramil I know, the one I love. The real world is difficult and dark, but it's real. And it needs us. It needs you. Forget these dreams and let's go save it together."

[Toric]

Zyrr stares at Eltain oddly, a spark of kinship in his eye that wasn't there before. "I hadn't ever thought of it that way. I always thought you Eladrin got along until I met more than a dozen of you. Now I'm more convinced than ever that Drow, Elves, and Eladrin descended from a common race; this sort of familial dysfunction has to be genetic."

The drow looks down from Eltain's face to his hand, and clasps it firmly. "Yes, you've fled from your own horribly self-destructive race, and you've seen with your own eyes why you had to leave. But you haven't seen why I had to leave mine. Be on your guard. That's all I ask." And with that, Zyrr releases Eltain's hand and turns his attention to the hellish arena, to witness the execution of his sparring partner and friend.

---

Zyrr does not like what he sees. First Asheroth whispers to nothing, then Eltain begins talking to the same nothing. Sure, he knows the real Aramil is over there, but nobody else does. This hasn't happened in any of the alter-realms yet. This.... this......... this could be a very bad thing.

"Don't worry about our tiefling friend." Zyrr says smoothly as he steps in front of the bench and scrabbles together enough bits and pieces to weave into a story. "Lucan passed him the nutty torch long ago. It was actually a big part of our attack plan for the illithid.

"First, once we established a safe base in a cave, Pavick conjured an illusory group of adventurers in a tunnel the illithid were known to use for hunting grounds. When Lucan's pixie friend warned him of their coming, he and Ash used a creative mix of spells to throw their voices for the adventuring party, three characters for each voice actor, arguing with each other and with themselves about which cave mouth leads to the surface. The illithid found them, and, rather than attack the phantoms and fall prey to an ambush like we'd hoped, they watched and listened from a distance. Really. They just stood there and stared with their weird milky eyes while others joined them to see what the ruckus was about. From what I understand, Ash won the award for best actor when he punched himself in the face for holding the map upside down." Zyrr raps a knuckle against the side of his chin to illustrate.

"I wasn't there to witness it, you see. My job was to sneak into the illithid lair while the others drew the sentries away. I was prepared to be challenged. I was prepared to put my life on the line. What I wasn't prepared for was my easiest sneaking job since I finished my assassin training. The halls were empty of all but the occasional slave, who generally was more concerned with using the break in attention to stow away extra food than counting how many shadows should be on the wall. I reached the Elder Brain, added both a hallucinogen and a strong toxin to its bath, and made my way back from the others. After that were just three tasks: escaping from the entirety of the illithid colony once the phantom play ended, finding a good cleric to wipe most of the memory of belly-laughing Elder Brain from my mind, and leading a large military force a week later to kill all the illithid who hadn't already been executed for betraying the Elder Brain by using a blue wand instead of a red one."

Zyrr ends the tale with his arms outstretched apologetically. "Not quite the tale of valor and glory yours was, but the results speak for themselves."

[Mando Knight]

Aramil stands, facing away from Asheroth and Eltain. "Could you at least try to see things from my standpoint? This world isn't simply nice, it's everything I had wanted, all my mistakes for two and a half decades erased, and the Feywild back in order, with just one stroke from a different direction. Corellon chose us in our world in part because there's very few left who are qualified for the jobs. And now, Asheroth, you should know better than to call the traditions of one of the oldest races in the world mere superstition. Queen Mab might not be here physically, but her power flows through the dweomer that brought us here. You leaped into the pool that you knew would show you these things, and you insult Queen Mab because of what you saw? The last thing we need is to burn bridges as we cross them. Nor are these mere illusions."

Aramil draws his blade and holds it out so the others can see its altered appearance. "No, what has brought us here is a deeper and more ancient magic than most would consider possible. This is real, in its own way. We may have 'merely' crossed into the realm of the Dreaming, or this magic may have even tied other worlds together. Either way, it is constructed to show us our dreams of what could have been, to make them as real as everything that is. Some of us have been shown our nightmares... Eltain, you were depicted as the Prince's despotic right hand because you hate even the idea that the Prince of Frost's frozen heart may have corrupted the entire Winter Court, while complaining as if it were true. This world has reminded me that my nightmare is real."

He sheathes his sword again, bracing against what feels like the world tearing at his heart, yanking him towards his solid counterpart. "And yet, I must return to it. I thank you, milady, for a glimpse at what could have been, but I cannot dwell here. Regardless whether the troubles back home are my fault in part or in whole, that world needs me more than I wish to stay here. Even if I remained here, I would be compelled to return home, as Tiandra's frozen form would only continue to cry out to me every time I close my eyes."

[Hzurr]

DM Post

A cruel laugh seems to echo a moment on the wind, taunting Aramil, but soon the familiar swirling portal opens.

OOC: I'll give y'all til tomorrow evening in case there's anything you want to do before going through the portal

[Orsik Vondal]

Anger rises inside of Asheroth as Aramil speaks, but dissapates when Aramil reaches his conclusion to not stay here. Ash lets out an exhausted sigh as soon as the swirling portal appears.

"Whoa ho hoooo!" Ash puts his hands on his knees and shakes his head. "You." He shakes his finger at ghost Aramil without looking up. "Thank you for letting us continue on, General. I know how hard that must have been. But you did the good thing."

Ash stands up straight, nods to Eltain in a gesture of gratitude and turns to walk toward the portal.

[Nai_Calus]

Eltain barely restrains himself from slapping Aramil, shaking with anger, and speaks to him as he walks towards the portal.

"I'm glad you've come around and accepted this, but... Do you truly believe you're the only one to live a nightmare? That you're the only one to see all your dreams and all you had hoped for turn to ash and crumble away before you?" He shakes his head.

"When I was a child, all I wanted, all I dreamed, was to have a family like I saw others have. I dreamed that someday my parents would come and they would take me to live with them and we'd be together and I could still serve Corellon during the day and in times of need, but go home at night to my family and we would all live happily together."

"But then I met Certhiel, and she wanted only to use me and manipulate me and disowned me when I wouldn't be controlled. And my father used and betrayed her before I was even born and now stands imprisoned in the Fortress of Frozen tears, and I don't even know his name, and I'm not even sure I want to." He shakes his head.

"And you know full well I do not believe my people to be beyond hope or all corrupted, else I would not fight as I do. But much of the rest of the Feywild and beyond does believe that. But I will show them that they are wrong. I am not just the exception that proves the rule. I am merely one of the more public examples."

"No, the nightmare is real for me as well. Do you think I don't live in the same shattered, war-torn world? That I haven't seen everything I love destroyed and torn apart? That me we saw back there? That was never my nightmare. That's not something that ever could have happened." He snorts.

"The me of back there? My mother is a noble. Nothing but love and a lack of bitterness could ever have convinced her to keep a half-breed bastard. The political backlash would have rocked her control of the city and possibly worse. No, she was hurt by my father's betrayal and led astray by Koliada. Nor can I believe in a world where I never heard Corellon's call or felt the pull of magic until now. Even then, I never wanted to be a Swordmage, I wanted to be a Bard. So no, I don't believe it."

"Sure, this illusion can hurt us, illusions often can. Just ask Pavick about that. But I don't believe any of it. It reeks of things like 'fate' and 'destiny' that I don't believe in." He glares at Aramil.

"And how can you look me in the eye and insult me so? Or for that matter insult yourself?" He shakes his head. "No, Corellon doesn't just believe in us because we're merely the best of the dregs after everyone worthwhile has been eliminated. Were that so He would merely wait until those who truly were worthy came along. Being an Archfey isn't just a temporary day job, you know that. It's something you never leave. No, if He thinks we are the best choice for something like that, it is because He truly believes that we truly are the best for the job, that we're worthy over even anyone else who might have taken it. Remember that." He sighs and puts a hand on Aramil's shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I get carried away sometimes. You're a great man, Aramil. You will doubtless become even greater. But sometimes I find your lack of faith disturbing. We believe in you. Believe in yourself too. And believe in us"

[dariathalon]

Pavick - Gnome Wizard

Pavick nods at Eltain's words as he makes his way toward the portal. "You're absolutely right, illusions can damage. While this isn't exactly an illusion, it's not exactly real either. Whatever this is, I believe it can easily damage us. There is a reason that we were told few are successful in travelling this path."

He pauses just outside the portal, looking back he says, "One danger is of course becoming trapped in one of these possibilities, but the greater danger is one Queen Mab may never even have suspected when setting this up. We can't begin fighting amongst ourselves now. We have to maintain a strong united front. Eltain is also right that we are the people for this job. The ONLY people capable of changing our own reality, so we need to stick together to get it done. Now let's get on with it." Pavick turns and jumps into the portal.

[Toric]

"Pavick's right, you know." Zyrr remarks soberly to nobody as the Lucky Gnome takes the leap of faith. The drow himself has made no move toward the portal. "We can't bicker right now. We'll have enough on our plates shortly without it. It's my turn."

[Nai_Calus]

Eltain gently takes Zyrr's hand and gazes into his eyes, smiling comfortingly.

"We'll be fine. And so will you. No matter what we see there, it isn't real, and it's not you." He embraces the drow fiercely, wrapping him in a warm, comforting hug, then takes his hand once more, leading him gently to the portal.

[Hzurr]

DM Post

Stepping through the portal, there's that brief flash of white light, but rather than the odd feeling of tracing your way back through the branches of time, you immediately find yourself out of the portal and into the city of Senaliesse, high in the treetops. That faint hazing that had surrounded the previous dream worlds is surprisingly gone, and the acrid smell of smoke that had filled the air of the feywild before you stepped into the world of dreams assaults your nostrils again. Perched on the edge of a massive tree nearly a hundred yards away is the other gigantic adamantine spider, the twin of the one you smashed on the forest floor miles below. The spider construct is unmoving, and the open doors on the back show it to be completely empty of whatever creatures had been riding in it before.

There's a quick moment as you turn to examine each other, but all six of you appear to be completely solid. Zyrr pauses a moment, and quickly runs his hands over himself. "Oh...I assumed it would be my turn...well, all things considered it's probably best. Maybe it's not meant to work on drow." Zyrr's face alternates between looks of disappointment and relief as he realizes that he will not be subject to the nightmares like his allies have.

Taking a moment to observe, you can see that small fires are blazing throughout the treetop city. The city looks to be completely abandoned, all having long since fled from the drow and Fomorian invaders.

From high above, drifting down from the massive arena where the Court of Stars is held and where the frozen Tiandra still sits, a harsh chanting begins. Down below, Zyrr's eyes widen "That's the chant of the high-priestesses. They only use that when they're about to make a great sacrifice to Lolth. We've got to stop them!" Drawing his dagger, the former assassin darts towards the winding stairs that lead up to the arena above. "We can't let them have Tiandra..." he murmurs in a half-panic, leaping up the steps two at a time, motioning for you to follow.


Toric:

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No one but Toric should read this next bit:

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As the white light fades, and you start stepping out of the portal, twisted strands of midnight blue seem to lash around you, pulling you back and holding you tight. Ahead of you, you can see the rest of the party exiting the portal, and a solid version of yourself walking with them, a version that's apparently surprised to not be a dream.

Like all the best liars, You've spent time learning to identify your own tells, and the way that the solid version of you is casually rubbing his thumb and pinky together sends warning bells clanging in your mind.

"They can't see you or hear you." a voice whispers next to your ear, and even though you can barely turn your head, there's little difficulty in identifying the voice with those violet eyes that had haunted your friends in these dream worlds.

"How did you think it would turn out? Did you worry you were going to hurt them? That you would betray them? Well I have news for you, my little assassin. You are." Zyrr can feel the cold breath on his neck as the archfey speaks to him, and the midnight-blue bonds around your skin seem to twist and burn slightly.

"You and I are going to watch your friends follow you, and trust you, and depend on you as they face your kin. Can you imagine the look on their faces when you drive your knife into their backs? What do you think the last thing to go through Eltain's mind will be when you slit his throat? I wonder if Pavick will spend his last breath cursing the day he ever reached out to you all those years ago in Fallcrest?"

Thin fingers grab Zyrr's face, squeezing tightly, and turns his head so he must watch as his alternate tries to lure his allies into a trap.

[Mando Knight]

"No... Mab's smarter than that... isn't she? ...Or the spell was broken when the priestesses entered the court? Either way, we can't take any chances!"

Aramil draws his sword once more, and runs after Zyrr.

[Toric]

For hzurr eyes only:

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Zyrr's mind works in two directions at once when he takes in the scene. One panics at the sign this Zyrr is lying to the others. The other notes how this Zyrr still has that itch in his fingers he's never been able to shake; that tendency to try to clean himself of the truth as he throws it away like refuse. He attempts to move forward or raise a hand in warning, and his inability to do so hits him right when the raven-feather voice flutters into his ear. It defies logic that a voice can sound like a pair of ever-watching eyes, but his mind immediately makes the connection nonetheless.

He listens to Mab's taunts in silence, watching his panicked alter-self urge the group into their next heroic exploit. Part of him admires the double's performance, especially considering he is impersonating himself and his own behavior which is novel and challenging in its own way. This part goes on to wonder whether this is an alternate-universe Zyrr who's been working as a double-agent for the drow the entire time, choosing now to finally crush the group he's spent years infiltrating, or whether he's more a direct puppet of the Archfey Mab. The other part test the bindings that hold him, tugging this way and that, feeling the ribbons grow tighter as he struggles. Right, then. I'm caged.

"It'll never happen." Zyrr snarles, glaring at his alter-self. "I may be the world's greatest actor but in the end it's an act and they'll see through it. They'll tell by my concern for the slaves..." His glare softens as he remembers the aid he's given to gnome slaves over the years. "And the little things I do without explanation..." Like making two antidotes without disclosing the identities of both. His eyebrows droop, his forehead wrinkled in concern instead of conviction. "And.... and running the group into danger..." which he's done more times than he has fingers. Crap.

[Orsik Vondal]

Maybe Zyrr was right. Perhaps Mab never thought a drow would go through the trials. It didn't really matter anyway, because if Zyrr was running headlong into a situation that could get him killed, Ash was not going to let him go it alone.

"My Captain!" Ash calls as his radiant bade materializes in his hand. "Let's scour this place of bilge rats!" Ash's wings unfurl and he half runs half flies up the stairs past Aramil to catch up to the charging drow. "Be on your guard, Captain! I have your portside flank! Let's go!"

[dariathalon]

Pavick - Gnome Wizard

Pavick looks around, something about this doesn't feel right. Why aren't they in drow caves or somewhere like that? Still there isn't much time to consider the situation. He pulls out the Skull of Baftis and follows Zyrr, Aramil, and Ash up the stairs as quickly as his little gnomish legs would carry him.

[Hzurr]

DM Post

Sprinting up the stairs, Zyrr leads the way towards the pavilion above, ignoring the bodies of Drow and Fomorians that fell to some of the final defenses of the city. There even appear to be a handful of gnomish slaves that were killed in the assault on the city (though it's unclear if they fell to the whips of their slavers or the defenses of Senaliesse).

This is the first time most of you have seen the meeting place of the Court of Stars since that fateful day so long ago. Still, just as you remember, the cold iron chair sits in the middle of the arena, and the frozen form of Tiandra rests unmoving.

Around Tiandra are a handful of frozen drow footsoldiers who drew too close to the icicled archfey, but in front of her is a dark green altar, pulsating with a sickly green light. Kneeling before the altar are eight high priestesses of Lolth, chanting in a low voice, and resting on the altar in a transparent bowl filled with blood is an obsidian kopesh. Just looking at the Kopesh, Eltain begins feeling sick to his stomach, and the rest of you can easily sense waves of evil coming off of the blade. Zyrr's eyes widen, and he leans down to speak to you all in a whisper. "We can't let them finish whatever ritual they're working on. You attack from here, and I'll slip around and try to surprise them from behind."

Zyrr waits for a nod of agreement, before slipping off into the shadows.

OOC: Let me know if y'all need/want a map of the layout ahead.

------

Toric:

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As you watch your friends follow your allies through the city, you can feel Mab's lips brushing your ear as she whispers harshly. "So confident, are you? Well let's see if you're right. Because this nightmare won't end when you decide that it's not you. It ends when they accept it's not you. Tell me, do you think they'll believe as they fight for their lives?"

Ahead, Zyrr can see that the alternate version of him did not slip off to the shadows to surprise the drow from behind, but has actually doubled back, and is preparing to assault the party from behind.

"If they accept this as real, you'll never be free. You'll have to watch as they die. And if that happens, you'll be trapped in my dream world forever. Doing it this way takes a bit more effort, but I think it's a safe bet, don't you?" As Mab starts to chuckle, Zyrr notices that the edges of the world, the places the party has already left, begin to crack and fray at the edges.

"Would you like to know the most interesting part of this reality?" Zyrr feels two hands on either side of his shoulder, as the voice from behind him drops to an even lower whisper.

"I didn't change anything." the Queen of Dreams pauses a moment to let this sink in, before continuing. "You and I both know that if you left this place, you could betray them at any time and be welcomed back into Drow society as the most clever assassin of all time.

[DSCrankshaw]

Lucan - Half-elf Bard

Lucan's confused. Where's the alternate dream world? Where's the transparent Zyrr? It feels like something went wrong, for them to be returned so quickly. Shouldn't there have been more of a fuss from Mab?

But then, Lucan is often confused. It could just mean that things are happening too quickly for him to follow again. But there are a bunch of drow about to do something awful to Titania, and that makes things simple. He unlimbers his bow and nocks an arrow, while Yuri moves in front of him, ready to charge forward.

[Toric]

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And so the fake Zyrr runs off on his own, to do what he likes with zero supervision. ....Great. Not like he's never done that before. Just ask a certain winter elf knight who rose from the dead for a day.

The first part of the transparent Zyrr's mind wants to both shout at the party for being so gullible and pat them on the backs for trusting him to sneak off as he excels at doing. Thus far, this part has been stuffed into the back of the drow's mind as it isn't helping right now.

The second part, which did said stuffing, takes over the face. A face which trades its lines of worry for a smooth forehead and a sardonic grin. This will require equal parts analysis and trickery of his own. "You changed things up just for me? I'm flattered." he purrs in response. "Now as interested as I am in just how much of this dreamworld you can maintain at one time, I have a more pertinent question. What's my fake self's motive?" he asks critically, as though discussing a script. "Yes, yes, I understand your motive, creating my worst nightmare, a world in which I throw everything away, but why is that guy changing his colors for a group whose ruling body considers him the planes' sexiest dagger?"

While Part B is poking the tiger, Zyrr's part C is slowly, meticulously working his dagger arm back and forth, up and down, gently testing the bindings for movements they don't restrict. The drow may be caged, but every cage has a door, and every door a lock, and every lock can be picked. He just has to do so before any of his friends die. No hurry.

[Hzurr]

DM Post

Toric:

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Thievery check, if you please sir.

[Toric]

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Minimum character limits are wonderful!

Thievery - (1d20+24)[26]

[Nai_Calus]

Eltain looks around for a moment as they seemingly return to the real world, his eyes narrowing. They narrow further as Zyrr darts off. Sure, the drow was odd and prone to doing mad things likely to get himself and everyone else killed, but his sudden concern for Tiandra was off. So was that explanation. He sighs as everyone runs ahead without thinking and mounts Frank for extra speed.

"Well done, Mab. This is your finest work yet." He mutters as he urges the pegamule on. "Alright, I highly doubt this is your nightmare, Frank, or for that matter Slick, Lena or Yuri's, so this must be Zyrr's." He looks around as he rides after the others. "Where the hell is he then? So like him, probably hiding to watch what's going on. Damn it, we need to get to the real world. Or is this the real world and it's just Zyrr that's fake? You really have outdone yourself, Mab."

When 'Zyrr' goes off into the shadows, Eltain speaks quickly to the others.

"Be on your guard. Aramil, do you really think Queen Mab of all people is going to let us go that easily? Or skip an opportunity to cause havoc? I don't know if this is just a very accurate illusion or if we're in the real world, but I don't buy for a moment that it's over. Sure, we haven't seen a 'real' Zyrr here, but that doesn't mean much, he's probably hiding to watch or something worse. Be careful. Something is going on here, and I trust none of this. Count the shadows," he says, nodding in the direction 'Zyrr' ran off. "Before we left Asheroth's nightmare Zyrr begged me to not let his nightmare self hurt anyone. He's afraid of a world where he'd turn on us. If he turns on us here, then we know."

[Mando Knight]

"I know, but we can't take the risk that this is still just one of Mab's games. If it isn't and we fail while trying to solve a puzzle that isn't there, I don't think any of us could forgive ourselves. Even if this is just a rehearsal... we don't want Mab thinking we're sloppy actors, now do we?"

[Nai_Calus]

"If it isn't real, we're losing time. Maybe it is real but Zyrr isn't. I don't know yet. Regardless, something is very off here. Half of us just insulted her, Mab is not going to just let us go. I'm just saying, be careful, and remember what we've seen before."

[Mando Knight]

"If it isn't real and there's another, real, Zyrr that we can't see and upon whom our entire future relies upon, we're going to be wasting time whether we want to or not."

[Orsik Vondal]

"Words words words! I lost my soul because of words." With that Ash charges forward a flurry of light and feathers sword blazing in flaming radiance. His blade flashes at the nearest priestess, and he continues his assault to the second and third priestesses. Hopefully, this would disrupt their ritual.

[Hzurr]

DM Post

As Eltain and Aramil debate the current situation, Asheroth takes a moment to try and recall anything about the kopesh. Although he can tell there's a powerful magical aura, from here there's little the Tiefling can discern. However, the blackened blade does stir the memory of a title Asheroth happened to have seen while perusing the library of Arvandor. He can't remember the name of the fabled weapon, but the title "Kopesh of Extinction" floats up in the back of his mind.

As everyone pauses to prepare themselves for battle, the shadows that Eltain was watching suddenly stir, and Zyrr steps out of them, rather than the other side of the arena like you were expecting. "They've got Formorians on the other side of the complex. I'm not certain if they're back-up or just there in case things go wrong. In any case, I think we may want to go with the classic half-pincer attack."

As Asheroth charges forward, Zyrr flashes a smile at Aramil and Eltain, and moves up to engage one of the priestesses as well.

OOC: Throwing up a map below. Since Asheroth charged in, he'll get CA on his first attack.

Init order will just be in whatever order y'all post.

Also, Could I get an insight/perception check from Aramil and Eltain?"

MAP

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Toric's section:

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As Zyrr questions Mab, a soft chuckle emerges from the Archfey holding him captive. "Why? Silly drow, it's the same reason every mortal betrays those they claim to love and trust, the same reason that mortals are unfit to govern themselves and are unfit to run across the planes unchecked." During this explanation, her voice takes on a tone of anger and bitterness, the words almost coming in a spit as she continues.

"Mortals desire power over all else, and will betray everything they care about to get it. You're a drow, you understand this. At least the drow are honest about it, rather than carrying on with the pretenses that the surface races do. But you're all the same. Pitiful mortals, claiming to ideals and standards they claim to uphold, but sacrifice at the first chance of real power that can be seized..."

She has started to trail off, deep within her own thoughts, and doesn't seem to notice the dagger you've drawn. The angle is a bit odd, and you're only able to make a small bit of progress through the threads that still hold you fast.

OOC: You can try to cut the bonds again with a thievery check, but there's a chance she might notice this time.

Turning her attention back to the battle that's about to ensue, Mab's more cheerful tune returns. "Oh look, he's charging into battle. Tell me, do you think he'll try and betray them all in the heat of battle, or will he wait until after when they're weakened and have dropped their guard?"

[Toric]

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Zyrr "C" feels the tip of the Imposter's Talon on his skin above his wrist. He can't exactly do much with it right now that won't involve cutting his own arm, but it's a comforting feeling nonetheless. One that says "Backup plan."

That thought and that piece of mind aside, the rest of Zyrr ponders the question Mab has proposed. "Hmm..." he ruminates. "If that were me down there..." But that's not me down there! snarls Zyrr "A." Not helping! snaps Zyrr "B". While Zyrr A is distracted by the gloomy philosophical theory the Unseelie proposed, Zyrr B focuses on the thought exercise. "If that were me down there, and it were my goal to kill my allies, I'd wait until after the battle, once all the damage has been inflicted and adrenaline has given way to fatigue. I'd likely behave accordingly during the fight proper; no heroics, no great feats of athleticism, I'd conserve my energy for those quick strikes at the end." Even the cold, calculating Zyrr B is a bit unsettled by what he himself is saying. Which is disturbing in itself; he's clearly gotten soft over the years.

Which means he's quite happy to let the escape-artist Zyrr C add something in to the end. "Speaking of battle, your knowledge of the drow is a bit off. That banner to the northeast? The one with the white serpents biting the wolf? That's the banner of House Norzzazl. It was wiped out half a century ago. Mainly due to betrayal from within, coincidentally." It's occurred to Zyrr C that he's dealing with a trickster much like himself, and an illusionist on top of that. Based on his own experiences with Pavick, his guess is that Mab is very proud of her works. And even if pointing out a huge albiet completely false flaw in her illusion does nothing to disturb her, the thought's interesting enough to be worth a shot.

Bluff - (1d20+23)[42]

[Orsik Vondal]

Ash blade flashes with brilliant light and flame as he sweeps it in a concentrated arc aiming for the first priestess.

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Soul's Judgement on G12
[roll]1d20+32[/roll] vs. AC check OOC
on hit target takes (2d12+28)[34] fire and radiant damage, Ash gets +2 to atk target UEONT.

[Hzurr]

DM Post

As you enter into battle, from below where you had just entered into the city, there's a deafening "snap" as if someone had cracked a whip made of lightning.

From out of the large tree below, you see a transparent Zyrr stumble out, purple smoke drifting off of his body. The transparent Zyrr wastes little time in catching his own feet, and begins scrambling up towards the pavilion as fast as it can. Moments later, a second transparent Zyrr stumbles out of the the tree. Followed soon by a third, and then a fourth a few seconds later. They also waste no time in jumping to their feet and sprinting up towards the pavilion.

In the arena with you, the solid Zyrr's eyes widen, and looks to Eltain and Aramil in a panic. "You're right, Mab isn't letting us go! She's sending nightmares from her dream world into the real world to stop us!" His eyes dart to the kopesh in the middle of the drow priestesses. "If that is what I think it is, we can't let them have it! They could kill us all!"

With a leap, Zyrr dives forward past the drow priestesses who are just starting to come out of their chant, and Zyrr grabs hold of the jet-black kopesh.

Eltain:

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results of your insight check:

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When the solid Zyrr initially charged forward to attack, his grip on his dagger seemed a bit...loose. Not the white-knuckle type grip of someone preparing to plunge the blade into his enemies

Toric:

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results of your thievery check:

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Your distraction seems to work, and Mab turns to look at the banners. "Oh, I'm afraid it is you who are mistaken, little mortal. House Norzzazl was not defeated, they simply were-

As she's still speaking, your dagger finds it's place, and the cords snap. Even as they fall away, you can feel them burning you, and your skin seems to smolder with bright violet burns. (OOC: lose (1d4)[4] Healing Surges)

Even as you stumble out of the cave and begin making your way up towards the arena above where your friends wait with your doppleganger, there's a yell of frustration from Queen Mab behind you, followed moments later by a low chuckle. Turning your head, you see three faint mirror images of you stumble out, and also begin the climb towards the pavilion above.

"You think escaping my bonds is that easy?" the voice still whispers in his head. "They'll never know which is you, and you'll still end up killing them all."

[Toric]

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(Spoilering this because it'd sort of give away which Zyrr is real if I was the one posting his actions.)

Yes! That makes two realm-warpers I've escaped from! woops Zyrr C inside the drow's mind. Shut up and focus on footwork. If I trip now I'm as good as dead. orders Zyrr B, as the total Zyrr scrambles to keep ahead of his doppelgangers.

Hey Me! Me! Zyrr A shouts from the back of the drow's mind. This had better be important! Zyrr B shouts back as he directs the mouth.

"Stop him! Stop that Zyrr! He's gonna kill you all!" the lead Zyrr shouts as he approaches, still keeping an eye on his footing.

Oh it's important. Mab lied. This realm isn't a copy of the real world. There was one difference, and it's a big one. Zyrr B's voice wavers and dissipates as a flood of memories wash over the drow's mind. A young drow handing him a bejeweled spider amulet, then lying on a table with a knife in his back. This same drow child's face flashing across his vision as Pavick made him an offer to change sides. As he lunged for a lethal stab against Kosalram and at the last moment flipped the blade to knock him out with the handle instead. As he faced a court of high eladrin and made the painful sacrifice of honesty.

And finally an older Vendis lying before him bound on an altar in a landscape more hellish than this, hordes of drow and demons watching them intently, a long-dead priestess offering him a blade and a chance to redeem himself in the eyes of Lolth. That decision, to kill his conscience and walk back into the spider-mother's embrace or sacrifice himself and face the full wrath of the Demonweb Pits.

That decision. The hardest decision of his life or death. That was where his path and this Zyrr's differed.

Footsteps continue, but the one Zyrr no longer pays any mind to them. The clones pursue, but the one Zyrr does not look back at them. He looks up at the false Zyrr with an anger he hasn't felt since he met his friends.

To the Pits with Mab's game. He's going to make this Zyrr face that which he killed.

The Zyrr trailing purple smoke sheathes his dagger as he runs, and reaches around his neck to remove Vendis's amulet from his neck. He reaches into a pouch for some ossip wax and mashes it onto the amulet, then throws it at the group midstride. It doesn't matter if anyone else knows what the amulet is to him. It doesn't matter where the thing lands. ...Or floats to a stop, thanks to the ossip wax. Throwing it is simply the right thing to do for the brother that has guided him all these years. Perhaps this will awaken what remains of Vendis in the other Zyrr. If not, this Zyrr will have plenty to say.

[Mando Knight]

Aramil frowns as he sees ghostly Zyrrs emerge from the tree, and the solid one grab the black blade. "And given what we've experienced lately, the 'real' Zyrr could be any one of you... if he's present at all. Give me the blade, Zyrr."

He began to wonder why it had never occurred to him before that he ought to research a means of adapting the swordbond to deny a foe of their weapon.