Within a terrifyingly short time, the behir reaches the top of the tower where a wide windowed balcony is set into the structure’s face. Wind whipping his white hair about, Nym hops down from the behir into a neat roll and bounces to his feet. Once Alalla follows, the behir ducks back out and vanishes from view.
Cryshal-Tirith
Within a terrifyingly short time, the behir reaches the top of the tower where a wide windowed balcony is set into the structure’s face. Wind whipping his white hair about, Nym hops down from the behir into a neat roll and bounces to his feet. Once Alalla follows, the behir ducks back out and vanishes from view.
Three crystal statues in vaguely humanoid shape rise up from the floor. Behind them is a grand, full-length mirror. The statues move to attack, their club-like limbs sparking with lightning.
Al gains 26 hp.
HP: 139/154
AC: 20
Rolls
Potion of Superior Healing - (8d4+8)
(44132211) + 8 = 26
"I remember these things." Nym’s voice comes floating from nothing. "Mind their shocking touch." The injured guard wails away with its club-like arms, but the strikes cannot find purchase on the elusive drow.
Alalla has worse luck as the two remaining guards advance on her. She takes several painful hits, each one accompanied by a stinging jolt of lightning (Al takes 25 bludgeoning and 22 lightning damage).
Rolls
Nym vs guard 1 (adv) - (1d20+14, 1d20+14)
1d20+14 : (9) + 14 = 23
1d20+14 : (5) + 14 = 19
Dmg to guard 1 - (1d8+9, 7d6)
1d8+9 : (4) + 9 = 13
7d6 : (4614564) = 30
Guard 1 vs Nym (2 attacks, disadv) - (2d20+6, 2d20+6)
2d20+6 : (1216) + 6 = 34
2d20+6 : (511) + 6 = 22
Guard 2 vs Al (2 attacks) - (1d20+6, 1d20+6)
1d20+6 : (14) + 6 = 20
1d20+6 : (13) + 6 = 19
Dmg to Al (bludgeoning, lightning) - (1d8+4, 2d6)
1d8+4 : (7) + 4 = 11
2d6 : (51) = 6
Guard 3 vs Al (2 attacks) - (1d20+6, 1d20+6)
1d20+6 : (16) + 6 = 22
1d20+6 : (17) + 6 = 23
Dmg to Al (bludgeoning, lightning) - (2d8+8, 4d6)
2d8+8 : (15) + 8 = 14
4d6 : (1645) = 16
Crystal 2 takes 37 slashing 25 fire damage (lethal) and Crystal 1 takes lethal damage. Retcon spending the superiority die on that crit w/ DMs permission cuz I misread the HP.
HP: 92/154
AC: 20
Rolls
Attack 1 v crystal 2 - (1d20+10)
(5) + 10 = 15
Attack 2 v crystal 2 - (1d20+10)
(12) + 10 = 22
Damage - (1d10+5, 2d6)
1d10+5 : (7) + 5 = 12
2d6 : (22) = 4
Damage reroll - (2d6)
(51) = 6
Sweeping attack v Crystal 1 - (1d10)
(7) = 7
Attack 3 v crystal 2 - (1d20+10)
(20) + 10 = 30
Damage - (2d10+25, 2d6+12)
2d10+25 : (109) + 25 = 44
2d6+12 : (43) + 12 = 19
...
Rolls
Nym vs guard 3 (3 attacks) - (3d20+14)
(51620) + 14 = 55
(Adv) - (3d20+14)
(172020) + 14 = 71
Dmg to guard 3 - (3d8+43, 7d6)
3d8+43 : (277) + 43 = 59
7d6 : (2565252) = 27
With an internal slew of curses she douses the flames and sheaths her sword. She could kill him, but probably not. Not alone, and not if she wanted to have the strength to make it through this tower after. What in the planes have you gotten yourself into, you sword-for-brains?
The drow clucks his tongue and puts a hand on the mirrors surface, then swipes to one side. The view changes again, this time showing a prison with a battered man kneeling in prayer. Everard? Another quick swipe. A bright room with a pedestal, over which a shard of crystal gently floats. Nym hesitates here, then with trembling hands swipes once more.
This room Alalla recognizes, for it is the grand hall of the Temple of Tempus. But its windows are dark with crusted ice, and awful scribbles deface the statues and floor glyphs.
"This is the one. This is where I need your help. There is an item I need you to retrieve for me. You’ll know it when you see it. I’d warn you of all the dangers, but I don’t actually know what they are, so you’ll just have to be quick." His finger hovers over the glass. "Are you ready?"
"That's really the best you've got for me?" Alalla folds her arms. More internal cursing. "If you wanted quick you should have worked harder to get Zenithral here. But yes. I'm ready."
Second wind.
Rolls
Second wind - (1d10+11)
(1) + 11 = 12
Immediately the mirror becomes an actual doorway. Nym folds his arms and waits for Alalla to enter.
The archdevil Belhifet.
"You’ve changed, Alalla." His voice is as smooth as ever. "You have found a deity to take you in, yes? Strange, how that happened only after the blessing I bestowed on you."
Her hand on her glaive is tight, but as Poquelin speaks she actually finds herself relaxing. Commenting on her blood, and a god accepting her oaths? Torm had viewed her whole life before accepting her oaths. He had already accepted orcish clergy, and Keggruk and others would be paladins before too long.
The comment might have sent her writhing some time ago, but now it seems almost trite. Belhifet is smarter than her and commands more power, but he doesn't know everything. He does have flaws.
Al feels like she should have something clever and sassy to say, but Zenithral is really the one who is good at that. Instead she narrows her eyes. If he thinks he is getting to her, he shouldn't have any trouble monologuing on his own.
He reaches into a pocket of his robe and pulls out a small black coffer with intricate silver enamel. From the craftsmanship it must be worth a fortune, never mind whatever might be inside. He flips the clasp up and down several times with his thumb, considering.
"How like you this world is. Blind to truth. Blind to reason. Blind to the inescapable doom that will befall existence should I fail!" Belhifet’s voice rises to a strained shout by the end, loud enough to cause Alalla’s ears to ring.
He calms himself with a deep breath and closes his fingers about the coffer. "And so they must be shown, yes? They all must be shown. You thought you saw unspeakable things in Avernus. In my home. But when you see those horrors split this world like an overripe melon, you and all the rest will see and understand what me and mine have been bleeding for over millennia."
His eyes burn as he stares into Alalla’s. "And then we, the heroes, will finally receive the recognition we are due. That I am due."
"I'm full of hubris? But you're after recognition? Do you even hear the words that come out of your mouth?" Yikes. A tree to break, indeed.
He flips open the lid on the coffer, releasing a power within that leaves like an expanding cone of black and white that leeches all color from everything it touches. Though Alalla has never before seen an anti-magic field, she knows what it is when it falls upon her. Her enchanted cloak falls drab about her shoulders. Her empowered weapons lose their luster. And her heart, Bilewing’s heart...
The heart turns off.
Alalla is reduced to 0 hp and is dying. She cannot succeed on death saving throws.
Belhifet sets the open coffer on the ground before Alalla. So close, and yet she is powerless to close it. He leans close to murmur in her ear. "I hope you enjoy whatever heaven Torm has for you, yes? Because eventually when I arrive with the hosts of the Nine Hells to conquer it, I may keep your soul as a trophy. Alongside your husband’s, yes?"
She tries to catch herself as she tips forward, but her arms refuse to work. She falls onto her front, unfocused eyes barely seeing the artifact on the ground in front of her.
A tear leaks free. She'd come all this way, and for what? As her mind starts to haze, her own words echo in her mind.
"Perhaps I'll add devil vanquisher to the list before the end. Or perhaps not."
"Maybe we'll just be the first line of soldiers on the battlefield- maybe we were always meant to be..."
"Soldiers die, Zenithral. It's our job."
Yes, she knew it would end like this. Hope is not one of her virtues.
As her eyes close, one last phrase returns to her, spoken after she had sworn her paladin oaths. "There's so much work to do still... but if I die tomorrow, it won't matter. I've done enough."
Some measure of peace comes with that, and she doesn't fight her closing eyes.
Still. My poorest death yet.
He chuckles darkly. "A deal is a deal isn’t it? Aren’t I a drow of my word?"
A single black finger comes down to rest on the top of the coffer’s lid. "Or would you not mind if I lied just this once?"
He flicks the coffer closed.
HP: 92/154
AC: 20
Rolls
Con save - (1d20+10)
(15) + 10 = 25