The Severed Hand
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This tower is high, and for a time the companions wonder if there will ever be an end to these steps, or if the magic that plagues this place is merely moving them to the bottom to begin again. Eventually, however, they arrive at the top.
This room, at the very highest point of Labelas Tower, is a wonder of architecture. Large windows held by sturdy iron make up a transparent dome that covers the ceiling and much of the walls. There are desk and tables covered in papers and strange equipment.
In the middle of the room is one large apparatus with a long steel barrel, which is pointed upward through a hole in the ceiling to reach the sky above. One elf is tinkering with this machine, pulling levers and stopping every so often to lean over and peer into a tube.
Zenithral recognizes the other figure in the room, the same one who called down fiery wrath upon the squirrel outside. Larrel, once the archmage of the Hand of the Seldarine, meanders about the room, mumbling to himself. Thin as a skeleton, the desiccated elf yet radiates an aura of arcane might.
It takes him a moment to notice the party, but when he does, he glares with eyes full of anger and frustration. "Why have you come to bother me in my preparations? This High Magic requires the utmost concentration! You risk dooming the Hand and all within it!" His hands begin to glow with nefarious purple light, painting the lines of his face in awful radiance.
"High magic also requires a clean room and a full belly. When you hit a good stopping spot please come eat."
HP:84/97
Rolls
Persuasion/Deception - (1d20+9)
(3) + 9 = 12
"Your magic failed centuries ago," Al says, taking a step forward. "This is Arranis' grandson, as proof," she gestures to Zenithral, "and your daughter's journal, if that helps too." She produces the book and puts it on the ground between them.
"I'm sorry about your people, but others need you now. Our friend needs to learn to use the Heartstone Gem, or the Spine will face another tragedy." Al waits for the wizard's response, praying that she is not about to become magical ash. Or at least, she would be if she had a god to pray to.
Rolls
Intimidation (This is serious) - (1d20+4)
(2) + 4 = 6
Intimidation (You think we would risk your wrath for something made up?) - (1d20+4)
(16) + 4 = 20
"I was told you could help me with this," he says, stepping closer to the elf. "The Heartstone Gem. The Hand may have fallen, but this might be able to help so many people. Maybe even your people."
Rolls
Fingers crossed (persuasion) - (1d20)
(6) = 6
Advantage! - (1d20)
(15) = 15
Fergy clutches his chest, and a look of horror dawns on his face as he realizes that - once again - he has pushed his luck too hard. The dwarf's face turns gray, and then to ash. An eery breeze blows through the room, and as it touches Fergy motes of his form break away... and then he becomes dust.
A creature targeted by this spell must make a Dexterity saving throw. On a failed save, the target takes 10d6+40 force damage. If this damage reduces the target to 0 hit points, it is disintegrated.
A disintegrated creature and everything it is wearing and carrying, except magic items, are reduced to a pile of fine gray dust. The creature can be restored to life only by means of a true resurrection or a wish spell.
This spell automatically disintegrates a Large or smaller nonmagical object or a creation of magical force. If the target is a Huge or larger object or creation of force, this spell disintegrates a 10-foot-cube portion of it. A magic item is unaffected by this spell.
At Higher Levels: When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 7th level or higher, the damage increases by 3d6 for each slot level above 6th.
A hiss of a sigh escapes his mummified lips, and then he lays a finger on the Heartstone Gem. It flares to life with a deep, crimson glow. In its light, Larrel looks about at the room as though seeing it for the first time. The ancient wizard doubles over as if in pain, a wordless moan escaping as the Hand's fate is revealed to him.
The Heartstone Gem burns in his grasp, its magic searing the truth into the lich's mind. He sinks to his knees then, diary of his daughter clutched to his chest with one hand. He looks up at the companions, grief etched deeply into every crevice of his face. "My people... my city. My daughter!" Pleading, he looks at the companions for some sort of explanation.
Rolls
Fergy Dex save DC 20 - (1d20+2)
(9) + 2 = 11
Force damage to Fergy - (16d6+40)
(6335312254414211) + 40 = 87
Zenithral remains standing there, stunned.
Ug shoves past his friends trying desperately to get to Fergys aid . . .
Not again
He would dive in front if he had to . . .
Not Again!
But Ugs too late. With an outstretched hand, The light shoots past him. Ug turns to see fergy dissolve before his eyes. Ug falls to his knees, what’s left of fergys existence misting around him.
NOT AGAIN! Ugs scream is beastial, the temperature about him dropping drastically and a mist curls around his body. Through its fog his figure dishapes, a massive wolf? No, it’s standing on its hind legs, A bear? His head appears to bearing horns.
Choices, so many choices.
The mist turns into icy tendrils that reach towards where fergy stood. Searching for his friend . . .
Ugs tries to use fallen puppet on Fergy. Not sure what the effect will be.
A cold snap cracks the air as Fergy's dust settles, and then a frigid air blows as the particles reassemble themselves into an imperfect semblance of the sorcerer - but instead of the bearded dwarf they have come to know, the party beholds a tiefling woman.
Nessa.
She stands there, a shimmering figure of dust and ice. Though the magic sustaining her must be fleeting, it looks as though she has something to say. One final message for her companions...
"That wasn't your fault, Ug. You can never save everyone. Least of all the people who don't even take care of themselves." Al turns from the wizard and makes Ug look at her. "You can be sad, but you can't blame yourself. It had nothing to do with you. It's not your fault."
somebody is DEFINITELY going to need to hold Ug back
Rolls
Athletics - (1d20+9)
(2) + 9 = 11
Inspiration reroll - (1d20+9)
(13) + 9 = 22
Rolls
Athletics - (1d20+9)
(18) + 9 = 27
Please, Ug.
Rolls
Intimidate - (1d20+4)
(12) + 4 = 16
Ras readies Hold Person
Rolls
The sun's getting real low (presuasion) - (1d20)
(6) = 6