Dorn's Deep

With the spell gone, Al knows it's only a short while before it's effects are too. She can't hear Zenithral and Ilmadia's conversation, but she can guess it's about the twins.

As the giants advance Alalla puts down her glaive and walks slowly over to Ras. "You'll feel better in a minute." Her head is telling her this is true, but the wailing chasm in her heart doesn't believe it. "Up you get. She lifts the gnome to his feet. Just in time to be killed by fire giants. She shoots one aiming to prod Ras with a glare.

Next is Erevain. She stoops to help the elf up. "I can't save you from yourself," she murmurs in Orcish, "can I, sharuhk?" She helps him be herded by the giants.

How is it that he can strengthen her, yet add weight to her burdens at the same time? By her reckoning, Erevain's actions have left the social contract of their marriage null and void. Is it even worth it to keep him around?

It has to be. Alalla grips his hand. The person she becomes down the other path is not someone she wants to be. The vows were only ever to make him happy anyway. She had only wanted him.

Erevain allows Alalla to pull him to his feet. With the despair fading he manages a smile, though his face is still marred with tears and sweat. "You already have." He turns to look at the others, and at the giants surrounding them. His eyes search out the invisible space that marks Nancy's safe haven. "What do we do, leader?"

"Strange," Zenithral says to Ilmadia, bleary-eyed. "Erestor also begged for my help after murdering an archdruid of Kuldihar. He said it was the only way to save you, then asked me to help him kill innocent children. First, tell me what happened in Kuldahar. Then I will try to help, but be warned I will not go against my moral code to do so."

Ilmadia closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, head bowed. After a moment she looks at Zenithral again. There are tears there.

"Your father assumed I had agency where I did not, and that I was forced in places I did make choices. I am bound to Belhifet, but it is not through the twins. If he had just listened then maybe-" She cuts off and rips off a black gauntlet so she can rub her eyes.

"If I had killed the druid, I'd have Isair and Madae with me right now. As it stands, that beast of a woman chose to keep children from their own mother. Between the Great Oak, the dragon, those new fanatics, and the orcs- weak as they are-, I could hardly rescue them alone." The grimness in her face says she tried. "I returned for reinforcements, and now I've lost my window. I'm stuck here, and Belhifet's eye is on me closer than ever." She takes Zenithral's hand, smile hopeful. "But you can get them. You can walk right in."

Relief comes over Zenithral's face. "If you had killed her, I would never forgive you. She's certainly a beast of a woman...but also the best kind. I can retrieve the twins, but with the guardians you've listed, what kind of danger merits their movement?" He looks willing but confused.

Ilmadia gives Zenithral an interested look. "Well, I'll try to avoid killing someone so... valuable to my son," her face darkens, "but I will do anything to protect my children." A common enough phrase, but the look in her eyes leaves Zenithral no doubt that she is already familiar with all kinds of awful 'anythings.'

Zenithral's mother puts her gauntlet back on with a frustrated snort. "I thought after all you've been through you'd have an appropriate fear of my master. You were sobbing under his might a moment ago and he wasn't even here!" She looks over him quickly, as though reassuring herself he has no lasting wounds.

"As soon as Belhifet discovers them, the twins are doomed. Kuldahar's defences won't matter. Not even your Archdruid. I'm... I'm not sure what I'll be able to do, then. It's been hard enough to keep you from him- though you haven't made it any easier- and now I'm on thin ice, as you saw. Their discovery will likely be a death sentence for me." Ilmadia rubs her neck and inhales shakily. "Then Isair and Madae will be at their father's mercy," she whispers.

"I'm not sure there is much to be done," Alalla says once she's fairly sure that's the reasonable answer, and not the one the spell is pressing down on her head. "Too many of us are too tired or too injured. Unless something changes, things are in Zenithral's hands. Or else," she continues grimly, "the Swan's." She watches the two talking and focuses on breathing. Maybe she will or someone else will be able to come up with something after the spell wears off. And Vincent is out there somewhere. Things aren't completely hopeless. They're not.

Ugs barbarian will kept him alive once more but he almost wished it hadn’t. He had sacrificed so much to grow stronger and now It had taken his mother a moment to even recognize him, her own son! What she must think of him now, could she even love this new version of himself?! Kneeling, Ug reaches up to his horns and grasps at them but they don’t budge. His breath coming out in icy mist, Ug cried for the duration of the spell.

ug hp 1 and is back to one level of exhaustion

With a nod at Vincent, Ras casually holds his Staff of Healing and whispers a few careful words.

Everyone gets 16HP

The giants mutter as they keep watch on the party, but they don't seem to notice the tiniest hero of them all work his healing magic.

Vincent sneaks over to a wall. Using his calligraphy kit, he writes a message on the stone. An audible whisper comes from the direction of Vincent and those that turn to look see the message drawn out of nowhere in front of them. Normally he uses his deft strokes for beauty, not this time. Like death itself is writing, a message shows up in bright red shimmering ink.

"Depart in peace Giants or a worse fate than death awaits you..."

"What now?" One of the giants turns to walk over to the wall and bends down for a closer look. "And who wrote this? Hold on. Carthom, didn't you say there was eight little ones what passed this way?"

The guard the companions met at the entrance nods and narrows his eyes. "Yeah. Seven and a little slave. I don't see them now though." Carthom takes a menacin step forward toward the group. "What game are you playing? Where's the creepy one?"

Directing his thoughts at the giant who just spoke, "I am nowhere and everywhere. In your head and on a different plane of existence. Do you know what I can see from here? Your soul. It's a pretty thing. So bright and fragile. I do love souls. Everything from their flavor to how much they are worth to so very many hidden powers. Would you like me to touch your soul? If I'm gentle, your bones and teeth will itch ever so slightly..." Then the mental link is filled with laughter.

Alalla lets all of the weight she has been carrying and the last dregs of the despair spell well up. "He... He..." She releases it all in an ugly sob. "That drow killed him. Burnt to ash!" She gestures angrily at the scorch marks and mostly burnt up corpses around them as tears drip down her face. She tries to say more, but now that she's opened the floodgates, they are proving difficult to regulate or close. She buries her head in Erevain's shoulder- keeping one eye on the giants through her dreadlocks- and hopes her show is convincing. It's genuine, if not for the reason they think.

Carthom glances at the charred bits of flesh about the chamber, but then shakes his head as though trying to clear it. "Well, if he's dead he hasn't moved on. He's an angry ghost now. There are more than enough in these halls." The giant turns to look at Ilmadia, but apparently isn't too keen on hurrying her conversation with Zenithral, no matter how uncomfortable he might be with a supposed malevolent spirit in the room.

The dwarf stands somber among his companions, he can sense their dread and worry. He had come to his homeland hoping to be greeted by the arms of those he cherished, his friends and family, but he knew there would only be death in such a place. These halls have been lost to his people for hundreds of years, now it has become a lair for those who would serve evil. Ready to help his allies at all costs he gets close to Allala. Softly whispering to the best of a dwarf’s ability he inquires.

"What would ye have a dwerf do?"

Maralie, who has done her best to stay away from any danger, carefully reaches up to tug on Ug's loincloth, at a pouch where he placed a certain key she gave him earlier.

She gestures to the throne. No, to the dais the throne sits on. To the throne's left.

"What's to be done? If we fight, some will die. A necessary price, sometimes, but here I don't think it will buy anything." Alalla sniffles and blinks to clear her eyes. Enough of that. "Zenithral is the tactician, and he's negotiating with the enemy. All we can do is wait."

As Ilmadia explains the situation, Zenithral's expression slowly changes into determination. "Oh...I see...Alright." Zenithral ponders for a moment. "But where is safer than Kuldihar? One of my companions has a spell that can get our group to the town quickly. From there, we can relocate the twins."

Ilmadia glances to the side at the giants and party members, then at the throne and the unconscious imp. "You choose a meeting place, and I'll take the twins from you there. The fewer that know their final destination, the better. As for your friends..." The woman turns and surveys them openly.

"You all can go if you leave the Heartstone Gem," she announces so that everyone can hear. "That ought to keep your noses out of where it doesn't belong. My master's patience with your meddling is spent."