A Puzzling Adventure

Day 15: Our group was called to aid the temple of Bahamut today. Apparently, word gets around about our deeds. It seems there was more trouble in the sewers, people going in and never coming back. The temple gave us the aid of a samsaren cleric and what I can best describe as a constructed person. The samsaren looked as they all do; tall, pale, and malnourished. An eerie looking lot, but they are exceptional healers. The construct was just that- a metal being, moving on its own either through magic or alchemical fuel (it’s difficult to tell, even with my own considerable knowledge of the arcane).

These new companions led us to the sewer gate, the construct bending the door bar completely out of shape and allowing us access. I believe Bender will be an appropriate name for it at this point. We entered the sewers, surprisingly well lit with torches lining the tunnels. I attempted to detect magic in the area, but something was blocking my powers. Something pressed upon my mind, constricting my thoughts. As I struggled against it, a harsh voice seemed to cackle inside my head, making my ears ring painfully. I hid this experience from the others so as not to worry them. Whatever was down here was not to be taken lightly.

We continued down the hall, and came upon a handful of vishkanya, dressed in rags and wielding sharp kukris. We attempted to sneak by them, but we were spotted easily. Zedaythe hurried, concentrating her magic into a burst of light covering the entire room. She had entered their minds and Commanded them to come mindlessly forward. One vishkanya stood his ground, shaking but resisting the oracle’s influence. The others came like pigs to slaughter. Akai knocked out two of them at once, while Arliim shot an arrow through the heart of the next one and Bender pounded its great metal fist into another one’s skull. Nahjeel approached the last standing vishkanya and attempted to talk to him, ask him who he was and why they needed to fight strangers. The rag-clothed snak replied with a simple “You must die!” and made a wide sweep with his kukri at my friend. Nahjeel moved like a cobra, swerving to the side to avoid the blade, then quickly conjured a wickedly sharp dagger of ice. In an instant, the insane vishkanya’s gut was punctured and began to freeze, cracking and shattering out from the wound.

We tied up the two unconscious vishkanya, waking them up to be interrogated while Arliim and Sumi stood watch over the door ahead. It was pointless getting anything useful from them. They were being controlled, most likely by the same source that was blocking my sense of magical energy. No amount of pain to these bodies could ever get us the information we needed. Our party moved onward, leaving the two mind slaves tied up in a room full of their dead kin.

Sumi had the brilliant idea of sending a firebolt into the next room, in hopes of hitting whatever we might find there. If there was anything at all. That must have hit something bad, because the room erupted with fire, blasting Arliim into the opposite wall while Sumi took cover, only getting singed a little. The room ahead was now charred black and held nothing but burnt rags within. The next door was built of adamantine, standing unharmed by the explosion. It opened easily and we found quite a surprise at the back of the door. A lens of truth enchantment, stuck on a loop, played on its surface. It showed a room full of rich, bejeweled clothing filling the previous room with small piles of gunpowder scattered about. The robes alone looked to be worth millions in gold, the gunpowder could have been extremely useful (at least to me). Then, it showed Sumi’s firebolt, lighting the powder and destroying everything inside. We all gave the tree woman a serious stare at that image. She shrugged it off, saying everyone makes mistakes and the past is the past.

As we entered the next room, stone slabs shut us in and an hourglass poured away slowly. The walls came closing in, intending to crush us. There was much arguing of what to do, and in that time the hourglass emptied.  We all held our breath, waiting for the walls to crash in. But they merely lifted. It was a joke, nothing more than something to scare us. Annoying.

As the walls lifted, we saw three doors on each of them. Oh goodie. More doors. We separated to check each of the doors, Zedaythe and I took the left one. Peeking inside, we saw a single chest in the center of the room. There was no perceivable danger in the room, so I decided to open the chest. Zedaythe was cautious, standing well to the side as I opened the lid. I briefly saw a scaly head of tentacles then all I saw was gray for a moment, my other senses completely failing me. I tried to break free of whatever magic had me, but it was futile. Then I felt a warm touch, and my senses started to return. Zedaythe was using her magic to remove the stone afflicting me. As soon as I was free, I shut the chest and lifted it up, taking it with us. The stare of a gorgon was a powerful tool, we may be able to use it. I threw the tiny chest into Bender’s spacious chest compartment, sick of dealing with these ridiculous traps. If I could still sense, I would have easily found that heads aura inside. That was the mistake only children would make.

The others had some more mishaps with traps. I really wasn’t a fan, moving on now.

We unlocked a series of doors and came upon a wide, diamond shaped room. The strange thing about it was the water that filled almost all of it, starting ankle deep by the doorway and steadily going deeper into murky, swamp water. My magic detection still wasn’t working, so I sent Henry to wade into the water, my glowing mark allowing me to judge the depth. Something bubbled in the water. Something big. I whistled for Henry to return, but he was already rushing back. Whatever it was down there, it was enough to frighten him. Out of the water rose the head of a huge sea serpent, a grin of teeth like swords spreading across its draconic face. I’d never faced a sea serpent, but really how much harder could it be than a dragon of the desert?

Two more heads, identical to the first one. As all three heads rose nearly to the ceiling, I could see where the connected on a truly enormous body half submerged in the water. A hydra. Gods help us.

That was it for me. I was sick of all the twists and turns and puzzles of this place, unable to even sense magic just to find this horrible creature at the end. I was furious, could feel it welling up inside. Without even asking the others, I stepped forward into the water, waist deep, and inhaled deeply to prepare a Fire Breath spell. Something seemed different while I was doing this though. The hydra could feel it too, slinking back at the sight of me. I felt more power than I’ve ever had burning up in my chest, urging to be released. The air around me felt hot and the torchlights grew dim. I released my spell. To my surprise, black fire spewed from my mouth in a literal wave that engulfed both the hydra and that entire half of the room. Screams of pain could be heard behind the dark flames, but nothing at all could be seen. My breath grew faint and the spell began to subside. The mighty hydra, easily 10 times my size, sank into the pond, a mess of charred flesh and blood that stained the boiling water. I collapsed to my knees, exhausted. Where the hell did that come from?

“Me.”

I twisted around, shocked. It sounded like some loud deep voice had answered my thoughts, extremely close to my ears at that.

“Down here, at your side.”

The voice was still inside my head, but I felt a slight tug at my belt. I looked down to where my trusty scimitar always waited for me, only to find it replaced with a wicked looking black blade. It was still a scimitar in shape, but this one was wildly different than my old one. It had a deep ebony color to it, and an intricate design from some culture I’ve never seen before. Some of the patterns looked ifrit, while others resembled tribal orc designs, and others still were just mysterious . The handle was weird too. Longer than a usual scimitar, more like that of a falchion, built for two hands and a heavier blow. I drew this new weapon from my side, examining it. The sword had a round, deep red ruby set in its hilt. I stared into for a moment before a wide yellow eye appeared, looking back at me.

“There you are.” I heard only in my head, not with my ears like I had originally thought. “You may call me Azadon. What, pray tell, may I call you, young magi?”

My allies were not paying attention to me, they were busy taking scales from the hydra and emptying its stomach. “I am Revilo.” I thought, hoping that was all it takes to communicate with this blade.

“Revilo. As good a name as any. We are now bound, you and I. Revilo and Azadon. The magus and the blade.”

“What?” I thought, confused. “What does that mean?”

The strange black blade stayed silent. Zedaythe approached me, excited to show me a huge magic sword she had found in the water. I acted excited for her, but my own magic sword bothered me at the moment. Whatever it was, why ever it came to me, it could give me power like I’ve never seen before.

And that was a very intriguing thing indeed.