The Severed Hand

As Zenithral walks about, he pauses at the librarian's words, tilts his head and raises an eyebrow higher than any of the five towers. ...Fergy...the 'trustworthy sort'...? He shakes his head, then continues forward.

Al leans in toward Zenithral as they walk. "The scariest part," she mutters to him in her halting elvish, "is that he believes it's true."

Walking beside Alalla and Zenithral, Erevain chuckles - then blinks. "I did not think I could laugh in a place such as this. Perhaps we are faring better than I thought."

The stairs beckon, and the party continues upwards.

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.

"Housekeeping and Room Service!" Fergy starts using prestidigitation to clean off a dusty table and begins to pull an odd assortment of food out of his pack and lay it out.

"High magic also requires a clean room and a full belly. When you hit a good stopping spot please come eat."

HP:84/97

"Wait...you were the gatekeeper! I--" Zenithral begins. He tilts his head, then whispers to Alalla. "I'm not sure I want to break the news that the Hand has already been doomed..."

"Someone has to sometime," Alalla replies wryly. "Everyone brace yourselves."

"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.

Ras quickly pulls out the gem and holds it out.

"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."

"DWARF?! Here? After all your unwashed kind has done, you come and lie to my face? My magic will purge the stink of your treachery from this place!" Larrel gestures, and a beam of rancid light leaves his fingers and strikes Fergy squarely in the chest.

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. As the companions cough away the small cloud of what's left of Fergy, Larrel looks down to see the diary and the Heartstone Gem. The glow leaves the lich's hands, and his face twists in surprise. Withered hands shakily reach out to touch the book and softly trace the faded lines of gold on the cover.

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.

"Dwarf..." Zenithral repeats as Larrel spits the word. The fireballed squirrel flashes through his mind. "Wait, NO...!" Zenithral reaches out with radiant light, but as he sees Fergy's form begin to disintegrate, a spike of fear hits him and he withdraws the light.

Zenithral remains standing there, stunned.

Not again
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.

Nessa looks over the group and turns to Ras and Al. "Ras, I'll miss you, but don't try to fix this, I'm where I belong. Al, I've trained you to be leader as best as I know how, despite your failures. I hand over the position officially to you, and hope one day you will be as good as me. Now you are the leader. Goodbye all, and remember to always distrust everything you see."

The icy mist dissipates and Ug is left kneeling on the cold stone floor, his frame restored with icy teardrops frozen on his cheeks. He doesn’t even turn to face Fergys attacker. He just continues to kneel, head bowed and shoulders shaking. Why must he always fail? After all he was becoming, even after what just happened, Ug was still not enough. Will he ever be enough? What would the cost be to finally be enough?

Alalla clenches her teeth as Nessa speaks to her, but says nothing. When the mist clears Al goes to Ug's side. She puts a hand on his shoulder, but watches the wizard carefully.

"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."

"Not Ugs fault?" Ugs Tone hardens. "Ug is always there when friends die." And then a dark puzzle piece falls into place in Ugs mind. "But maybe Al is right." Ug says in a cold whisper. "Enemies were there too. . ." Ug rises up slowly and turns toward the wizard.

somebody is DEFINITELY going to need to hold Ug back

Al drops her glaive and grabs his arms. "No, Ug. You're always there when Nessa's died. And you didn't let her die, she nearly let you die. Taking on Poquelin was beyond stupid, and she was willing to sacrifice you for her stupidity too." Al attempts to force Ug back into a sit. "Not now, Ug. We need him or more than Nessa will die." She heaves down on his massive shoulders. "Not. Now."

"But they were friends! How many friends must die to save other!" The barbarian easily knocks Als arms away and bends down to retrieve his maul. It begins to glow a deep blue as Ug steps towards the lich.

"Fergy didnt deserve death, but killing Larrel won't solve anything! It will only make things worse for Kuldahar, if you even manage to keep from dying yourself. Your death won't save Fergy, but your restraint may save Kuldahar." Alalla puts herself between Ug and Larrel. Her stare is icy, and she bares her tusks. Her glaive appears in her hand and she thumps it loudly. "Stand. Down. Don't make me make you."

Please, Ug.

Ras steps in front of Ug, hands out. "It's ok buddy," he says carefully, trying to keep eye contact with the goliath. "Fergy wouldn't want this! How many of us will die trying to get revenge?"

Ras readies Hold Person