The Triad

Zenithral rolls his eyes and takes the jar, but makes no promises.

Zenithral pulls the jar out form his pack and unwraps it. Still in tact after their descent and fight, thankfully. Magically sturdy jar, perhaps? He scowls at the substance inside. Nym's deals usually helped them in the long run, whomever the patron, but at what cost?

"Will this quell the beast?" Zenithral thinks aloud. "Or incite it to destruction? Give the Spider Queen control of it, or simply lead it to hunt a different people in a future time?"

Intending to open the jar and empty it's contents, Zenithral closes his eyes and breaths a prayer, though he suspects the answer he'll get.

Zenithral expends a spell slot and takes a minute to cast Augury.

It takes along moment for Zenithral's prayer to be answered. After several long moments, however, he hears Myllandra's voice calling as if from far away. "Woe, for the thousands who may die. Weal, for the tens of thousands you may save. Remember, Zenithral, that there will always be those who will choose evil, but so long as there is good in the world willing to act, hope remains..."

Her voice fades away.

Alalla breaks her gaze from the scene before her. So much of her history was shaped by that moment. The rest will be shaped by this one.

"I doubt we'll be entirely happy with the outcome," she says, unaware of Zenithral's prayer. "But will we just go home? Do nothing?" She prepares to grab the eye as Zenithral empties the jar. "All we can do is act as best we can, then deal with the consequences."

Zenithral purses his lips, pauses, then nods and empties the jar.

Alalla snatches up the Eye, then darts away and off of the goo.

"Move!" Alalla sprints in the direction they came. Just before she reaches the point where she would have to crawl, she dives, hoping to use her momentum to slide some of the way.

Halla doesn’t hesitate. She immediately sprouts feathers and turns into a giant eagle. She snatches Alalla and Zenithral in her oversized talons dives out of the Beast’s mouth...

...and into chaos.

The chasme have taken to the air, maximizing their drone in an attempt to soothe Ityak-Ortheel.

The next moments are a blur as Halla swoops through the air, surrounded by an impossible number of chasme. She is far faster and more agile than the awkward fly-demons, and all seem too distracted to give chase. Wings flapping furiously for elevation, she carries Zenithral and Alalla up through the Pit.

Behind them comes an awful, trumpeting roar that can only have come from Ityak-Ortheel. But while it starts out powerful, the sound dies away oddly. Perhaps the chasme have succeeded in tranquilizing the Beast.

But the heroes are not out of the Pit yet.

With 5 miles to fly straight up, and with webs and spiders to avoid, Halla’s flying skills are put to the test. Her wings pump continuously to climb through the air, then tuck in close as she whirls between strands of web. Every feather straining for lift, she soon begins to tire. But looking up the companions can see light at the top of the tunnel. Not ready to give up with the end in sight, Halla gives it her all.

When they finally burst from the top of the Pit, Halla barely lands before turning back to her human self, trembling and covered in sweat. But despite the exhaustion her yellow eyes shine with satisfaction.

Erevain rushes forward to embrace Alalla. "Thank Torm! Not that I doubted, but… I am relieved to not be left a single father!"

"Good!" One of the women claps her hands together. "The deed is done then. And you even managed to survive, all three of you. The Spider Queen wishes you all gone from this place."

The other demonic drow smiles, showing off perfect white teeth. "Farewell!"

Thaistius does not bother to glance at the approaching demons. "You have It? Good." He utters a holy word, and yet again the party is yanked to another plane.

Torm’s eternal voice fills the columned room. "Greetings, Heroes of the Triad. You have accomplished something thought impossible for millenia, and the heavens rejoice for your bravery."

Aribeth flinches. She opens her mouth to speak. "But I accomplished nothing! I-"

Fenthick coughs lightly and puts a hand on her shoulder, quieting her.

Tyr chuckles.

Torm continues as though the interruption never were. "We have concluded our negotiations with Gruumsh. He has agreed to relinquish his hold over the orcish peoples on the condition that he lose the coming trial of combat. If he wins…" his visor turns to Alalla. "You have what he desires.

Gruumsh is one of the more powerful gods of the cosmos. Even mighty Tyr would not best him in a conventional duel. Yet the One-Eyed God has agreed to fight the three of us at once. Gruumsh against the Triad.

It has also been agreed upon that the trial of combat shall include allusive proxies." Torm shakes his head. "It may be difficult to understand, but as we deities battle above, so shall our avatars battle below. The outcome of one will be the outcome of the other." Despite the gravity of the discussion, Torm seems to smile. "We gods and our symbolisms."

The Loyal Fury steps forward. "Lady Alalla Blacksheaf Thur’kafaz, you will be my proxy."

Alalla levels up

Ilmater shuffles forward. "Zenithral Liadon Melerelel. You… will be my proxy."

Zenithral levels up

Tyr strides forward. "Aribeth de Tylmarande, you will be my proxy."

Aribeth levels up