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Old 07-05-2007, 07:10 PM   #281
Kazilan
Elminster
 
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Pandaros

The scout watched Sever work with raised eyebrows, nodding as the tree branch was wedged into place. "Good work, Sever. I'm glad you decided to catch up with us."

As Xaver approached with the pouch Pandaros set down his bow to receive the treasure. After hefting it for a moment he offered a curt smile and tied the container to his belt.

"Well done, Xaver. Hopefully what's inside doesn't hold the smell like the pouch does."

Pandaros stepped aside to let the dwarf pass, then stooped to collect his bow and nock an arrow.

"Now, let's see what's down the dark hole."
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Old 07-23-2007, 04:49 PM   #282
Armen
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Quote:
Originally posted by Morgeruat:
Oley
"Gilliam, I'd like to hear your answers to the question I posed to you earlier. If you pass, I've some tasks that are essential to the success of several of my projects here, they will no doubt be of great value to your instruction."


Gillian inwardly panicked at Oley’s question although his expression slipped into one of studied indifference. In the excitement of their practical experimenting he had forgotten his brief investigations in the other room and slightly regretted now not taking more time over them. He wondered briefly what Oley might be expecting of him but quickly realized that all he could do was answer in his own way. He straightened up.

”Archmage Oley, I detected no magical illusions but although my eye for such is reasonable I am yet to learn any specific spells to reveal them. I expect that some of the furnishings and some of the books aren’t really as ‘magical’ as they appear. I, apologize if this supposition offends but I found that many of the city wizards . . . ‘decorated’ their studies more for the benefit of ignorant visitors than for the means of practicing their art.”

He trailed off as if unsure but then continued more confidently. ”But then illusions, like beauty, are in the eye of the beholder. There is a sense, I believe, in which all things are both truth and illusion together. A man could enter a tavern with a dagger, the truth of which to him could be that it signifies nothing but his desire of ornamentation, his membership of a social set that affected such things or merely that he felt the need of a handy tool for the cutting of fruit. The fearful observer ‘sees’ none of this however but rather the illusion of a violent man to which the dagger is a clue.” Gillian’s rate of speech had increased as he spoke, warming to his subject. ”So the art, no, the craft of illusion is not to conjure images in the air but to insinuate, subtly and invisibly into the mind of the beholder the effect that you hope to achieve”.

Gillian stopped, aware that he tended to talk too much when on his pet subject and also that Oley would probably not appreciate a lecture. He gave an embarrassed grin in apology for his ramblings then after a moment’s pause said, ”Oh yes. And I don’t think you’re anywhere near as drunk as you suggest you are.”
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Old 08-22-2007, 12:24 PM   #283
Morgeruat
Jack Burton
 

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Choc Re: LOF: Awakenings

Oley

"An interesting conclusion," The old mage said nothing further for a few minutes as he visibly examined the construct and the books open and taken from the shelves looking for patterns in the subject matter of Kuankried and his pixie (or vice versa) and the young would-be apprentice.

"I would not say you are entirely correct, but neither are you in error, many more 'touches' have been added for the benefit of my few visitors than are truly present, and my own presentation presents much falsification, but not necessarily as much as most may think, although more than you yourself give me credit for.

"That said, I think I might be able to teach you, but it will require the standard caveats, you will do my bidding without question, with the understanding that by whatever menial task I require I will actually be imparting great and wise secrets of the universe. Also do not try to avoid or hasten your tasks with magic unless instructed to do so. A colleague of mine had his tower flooded by a sorcerer's apprentice who wanted to save time filling a bathtub and animated a broom. Such could cost your life, and would certainly terminate your apprenticeship. Do you have anything to say at this time?" The old mage drew himself up to his full height, his back straightening and his piercing blue eyes seeming to lay bare Gillians soul and examine it as one would a parchment, and not a particularly interesting one.

Last edited by Morgeruat; 08-23-2007 at 09:37 AM.
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Old 10-03-2007, 11:38 AM   #284
Elif Godson
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Default Re: LOF: Awakenings

Vincent Pathfinder

working on re-post...

Last edited by Elif Godson; 10-22-2007 at 09:52 AM.
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Old 10-04-2007, 04:01 PM   #285
Morgeruat
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Default Re: LOF: Awakenings

Oley

Oley continued examining Gilliam for a few more moments, the apprentice had said nothing, presumably because he had nothing to say. The time for him to speak had passed, and now, was the time for obedience. "You'll receive roughly twelve hours a week of instruction from me, you'll have access to my laboratory as long as you meticulously document the supplies you use, and what you are doing with them, attempting, as well as what you succeed in. You will also be responsible for a number of chores, to be accomplished as I instruct, in the absence of instruction or permission to use magic for those chores, the Art will not be used outside of this residence." He looked around at Kuan and his familiar (although which one was actually serving whom was apparently still in question between them) tossed a large skeleton key towards Gilliam and told him shortly to go to the temple of Demeter in town and purchase some healing potion components.
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Old 10-04-2007, 06:11 PM   #286
dplax
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Default Re: LOF: Awakenings

Andrion Wilgor

The outer walls are nothing more than rubble, torn apart by strong hands as if but cardboard. Those unfortunate few who had been between the inner walls of the temple fortress and the outer walls, left outside of the sealed gates, had been unable to provide even token resistance.

Powerful blows ring against the iron-shod wooden gates. No barricade on the other side, not even greatly reinforced could stand the onslaught for long. The ring of the blows against the wood is the only sound, blanking out even the frantic preparations of the defenders on the inside.

No alarm call is needed. The tearing of stone provides warning enough to those few dozen defenders the Order of the Holy Flame still boasts. Locked inside their temple they await the coming of whatever hammers at their gates. Paladins, clerics and even some rangers. Fear grips at the hearts of even the strongest, for never had such a foe reached these gates. Yet all are willing to die to protect the Holy Flame, buried deep beneath their temple. And they know with an inevitable certainty, their pulse beating with the rhythm of the rapid blows raining down on the gates that they will die.

Suddenly, with a prolonged creak and then the sound of steel torn from its casings in stone, the hinges of the giant gates bend and snap, one half of the wooden entrance crashing inward, wood splintering and breaking. The de-facto leader of the giants, first among equals since the demise of Terrakis, grabs hold of the other half of the gate with one hand and wrenches it out of its socket, providing passage for his companions, half a dozen of whom are already inside of the temple area before the defenders manage to fire off a shot, tearing through the meagre planks and tables that had been piled in front of the door.

Wards and protective spells are triggered, exploding, arcing towards the intruders but the giants merely shrug them off. Swords, hammers, axes and arrows land blows against them, but rarely does a hand manage to strike more than one blow. Rarely does a bow manage to fire more than half a dozen arrows. The shadow giants complete their task with a ruthless efficiency. They strike down the defenders one by one, not bothering at finishing off the wounded, for they do not pose a threat any more.

Compared to the giants the figure of the mage who enters the temple behind them is but small, barely a child in giant-terms. But the sight of a human being, who willingly accepted the creature he had become, and the realization of what he is and who he represents is more than enough to strike an even greater terror into the hearts of these last-ditch defenders.

Two dozen of them move to retreat into the inner sanctuary, the guarding place of the Holy Flame, to make their last stand there. Half a dozen make it, the others felled either by mighty blows from the mighty giants or, those unfortunate few who turned against the mage upon his entry, taken down by sparingly fired spells.

As the last of the defenders falls, his cries of pain finally silenced by a shattering blow to his head the giants turn to the small passageway the last protectors had rushed to. Fists and raised and blows start to rain on the rock surrounding the passageway itself. Not being able to fit into the narrow passage the giants seemed to be prepared to widen it sufficiently for them to get through. It could take days though.

Among the fallen, a younger paladin lets out a moan of pain. One of the giants, most wounded by the battle and not taking part in enlarging the passageway lazily lifts his fist, preparing to crush the unfortunate survivor.

"Wait!" the voice of the mage calls from not far away, "He might still be useful. His knowledge about what lies down that passageway," he says pointing towards the hammering and tearing giants, "might prove quite useful." The fist pauses in mid-air.

He is first among equals and he had been the first in combat taking the greatest damage from the pitiful defenders. His gaze switches from the young paladin, lying wounded in a pool of his own blood, to the magician standing two dozen feet away.

"We can get to the Holy Flame by ourselves," the giant says, pride in his voice.

"I do not doubt that. Doubting your powers would be an affront to the memory of Terrakis." He sees an approving glance in the eye of the giant at the mention of Terrakis and continues. "You'll take a long time to tear through all that stone and undoubtedly there are also traps, both magical and not down that passage. Not to mention the fact that I'm pretty sure that the Order of the Holy Flame were proficient enough to probably even have some guardian guarding the Flame."

From the wide eyes and the look in those eyes that the young paladin shoots in Andrion's direction the chosen of shadow has confirmation enough. "He can tell us about these defenses and I can get past them faster than you can tear stone. In this particular case being smaller is an advantage. Besides, if I fail, you can always get the flame by yourselves."

The giant looks at the mage for the first time as though he were more than just baggage tagging along on this venture at the request of the Shadow Mage. The paladin is roughly picked up and hauled from the pile of bodies he was lying in and thrown to the ground. Ignoring the grunts and shrieks of pain the giant places a knee on the chest of the paladin. Enough pressure to make it hard to breathe and cause great pain, but not enough to break the ribs and crush him.

Sensing his cue, the mage steps forward. "I'm not going to lie to you," he addresses the paladin. "You're not going to survive. You might even be willing to give your life for the god you believe in. Or you might be willing to give your life to protect the secrets of your order. It doesn't matter to me. The only action you can take before dying is to ease your own suffering. The flame shall fall anyway be it now, or whenever the giants reach your inner sanctuary. So why suffer needlessly?"

A distant gaze clouds the paladin's eyes. Without a doubt, preparation for what he was going to face. Andrion did not enjoy the shrieks of pain and inflicting the wounds he inflicted. He did not recoil in horror from torturing the man either. This wasn't pleasure, it was business. As an almost forgotten friend by the name of Tunninni
(OOC: for more info on him) had once told Andrion, everyone had a certain threshold after which they broke. Everyone. For this young paladin, the name of whom Andrion does not even care about, that threshold is reached after just an hour and slowly sobbing, he blurts out all that he knew among cries for forgiveness from his god.

Finally the flow of information stops. Much was said and much possibly distorted, but the outline of the defenses was given. The mage wipes his bloody dagger on the torn sleeve of the paladin's shirt before resheathing it. Such a crude tool, but vastly effective for this type of work. Especially since his magical energy needs to be conserved for the trials ahead.

"Keep him alive," he says to the giant. "He'll get rid of a few of the traps for us." Once armed the traps could apparently only be disarmed from the other side. Triggering them with unfortunate victims was still a viable option though. While Andrion prepares defensive spells and summons skeletal helpers to trigger the traps the giants thrust the weak paladin into the passageway.

From the shriek that came barely a minute later he has finally been allowed to join his god.

The mage takes a moment to survey the temple area before stepping into the passageway. Apart from the shattered doorway with a lot of debris scattered around it, the vicinity of the passageway, where the giants still toiled and the area close to the altar where most of the fighting had taken place, the damage is minimal to the temple itself. Equipment and debris is scattered over the ground in a chaos, but it does nothing to tarnish the simple beauty that the place had once held. Flame motifs decorate the cracked altar and in those few torches surrounding it that have not been toppled over or broken, an exotic essence still burns, filling the air with a sweet smell.

He snaps out of his reverie. He is not here to enjoy the looks or smells of this place. He is not here for his own enjoyment. He is here to serve the one, who gifted him with his powers and who brought him back from the dead. Determination in his face and only a small bit of fear clutching at what is his heart inside of this body of shadow, he steps forward. The giants pause in their toil for mere seconds, allowing him and his skeletal helpers to pass through. Their steady fistblows providing a rhythm the once human mage follows with his footsteps he advances, always sending two of the skeletons in front of him.

Last edited by dplax; 10-04-2007 at 06:14 PM.
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Old 10-05-2007, 07:09 AM   #287
dplax
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Default Re: LOF: Awakenings

Andrion Wilgor

A massive stone block, falling from the ceiling, triggered by the unfortunate footstep of one of the undead crushes the first two skeletons. Two more take their place and provide the most amusing moment for Andrion in months. One of them, stepping onto yet another hidden triggering stone sets off a spear trap, which shoots out from the lateral well and flies right through the ribs of one of the skeletons. The skeleton having been ordered to advance tries, but finds itself suspended in mid-air, the spear stuck between its ribs. The mage, behind him, can not suppress his laughter, before yanking the spear free and allowing the construct of bones to move on. The sound of the giants toil lessens the deeper the little group penetrate into the passageway, until it becomes but a dull throbbing in the background. The first magical traps are easily detected and subsequently avoided or disarmed by the wizard.

Only two skeletons remain when the first fireball trap is triggered by one of them. The powerful explosion is amplified by the walls of the passageway and apart from destroying the last two skeletons, even manages to singe the hair of the mage. Extra magical protections are cast and magic detection spells put up. Three more fireball traps are evaded by setting them off from a distance with spells of his own. Stunning, paralysis traps, symbols of pain and even of death are dispelled, and a few more mechanical traps are triggered through summoned creatures.

Invisible, and sporting more protective spells than he ever had before, the mage turns a sharp corner and spots a faint glow at the end of a passageway. Dispelling the last couple of traps he knows that he has reached the inner sanctum, the resting place of the Holy Flame itself. It is here that the Order of the Holy Flame is going to fight its last battle. And fall.

A magical alarm goes off at his passage, but it does not matter. They are not a match for him. He prepares to unleash a horde of spells at the defenders, when he spots the guardian. Rearing several feet above all of the others, the fire elemental stands next to the Holy Flame. Its flaming, red hot body a contrast to the sweat and matted blood of the defenders. The flame itself is nestled on top of a pillar, burning seemingly as if nothing were fueling it.

Most of the defenders don't even know what hits them. A thick shadow, only pierced by the light the fire elemental gives off and that of the Holy Flame itself, settles on the chamber and no one sees where the mage strikes. When he does, spells fly at the defenders from every direction simultaneously.

Only four of them, all badly wounded, and the fire elemental, unscathed by the massive destruction unleashed remain standing, when the last remaining defender mage manages to get in a spell. Andrion's invisibility is dispelled and the fire elemental immediately lunges at him. Motivated by an uncontrolled desire to burn any intruder who came near the flame and pleased by straightforward destruction the elemental knows no fear.

As its body slams into the mage, fire meets fire and stone as Andrion's magical protections kick in. Its burning anger is fueled even more by the protective flame around the wizard. Blows rain against the mage, but his magical protections are still great. Struggling to get off a spell in the fire and heat, struggling against the weight of the blows that he feels, but that do not hurt him, the wizard fights off a tinge of fear. He had been prepared for a combat against the last defenders, but not against a creature of fire. He tries protecting himself from evil, preparing the next spell, but his casting is interrupted and the spell is lost.
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Old 10-10-2007, 11:39 PM   #288
Cyril Darkcloud
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Default Re: LOF: Awakenings

For Plaxica

She listens with great attention as the outsider speaks in the hope that her limited mastery of the strange tongue of this place will grasp something of the nuanced meaning that is likely to found within his words. She pauses a long moment considering his question, her eyes narrowed in concentration and her gaze firm. In the confidence that she has perceived his meaning correctly her face suddenly brightens, losing the harshness of its focus in the unbridled joy of a broad and unfeigned smile. Her laughter is strong, even reckless in its music, as she turns her face upward into the full light of the sun, a fierce and passionate laughter with no trace of mockery. She laughs freely not noticing how startling the sudden and abrupt shifting of her mood between such extremes is for the outsiders.

The warmth of her smile lingers upon her words as she speaks, “I have heard that name..... Wind...bringer,” she says the word reluctantly and with difficulty. "And I know that one to whom it has been given.....” She pauses searching after words. “..... by those of these lands ..... where the Sky is so far ..... away.” Once more her eyes narrow and her gaze grows firm as she studies the outsider who has come so great a distance with his woman and his child following. “But I will not speak of these things ...... or of that one ......” Her accent is more pronounced and she is unsure how to express herself. “...... in words that are born of dirt.” There is nothing of haughtiness about her, but there is a real pride about her bearing as she fixes her eyes upon those of the outsider.
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Old 10-11-2007, 02:09 AM   #289
dplax
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Default Re: LOF: Awakenings

Andrion Wilgor

Time. A minute or two without distractions is what he needs. The risks are deadly, but so is the other option of not taking them. Spells of invisibility, mirrored images, summoned creatures, he throws out every distraction he can think of.

Hours, maybe even a day would have been required for a standard preparation for such a spell. Yet ingredients are hastily scattered on the ground, in nowhere near the shape that the spell usually requires. Time for proper casting he does not have. He wishes he had prepared Time Stop, but it is not the time or the place to be losing time exploring what if's. Masses of magical energy, the likes of which he has never used, quantities he does not hope to master, are called up. The shadow in the room lightens, almost dissipating, as the Chosen of Shadow calls its force to him.

He can feel the energy crackle at his fingertips, he can feel it course through his body, shadows lurking more present than ever in his corrupted heart. Still he has to contain it for just enough time to utter the horrible spell.

Finally his efforts and the massive expenditure of spells pays off, and as the elemental chases after the penultimate mirror-image and under the terrified gazes of the still remaining defenders he casts one of his most powerful spells.

Knowing the risks of summoning a demon without protecting himself, but defying those risks he rapidly murmurs the spell anyway, infusing it with some of his own shadow essence, making it even more powerful, and unknowingly saving his own life.

The demon, barely fitting the small chamber, steps out of the rift created between the planes. More powerful than any demon he had ever summoned. Furious at having been torn from its home plane the demon rips two of the defenders in half with its claws. Terrorised the other two try to flee. The demon easily catches one of them, while the other is burnt to ashes by the very fire elemental he had helped summon several years earlier, when Andrion manages to push the elemental off himself with a spell.

Many of his protections exhausted in the battle with the elemental, Andrion, already weakened, half of his hair almost completely burnt away, the other half badly singed can only watch as the two mighty creatures, both far from their home plane engage in a battle to the death. He does not know which of the two he'd prefer to win. The fire elemental already proved itself a formidable opponent, and he can easily guess that the demon is none less. A handful of new protection spells are cast, but they can only function as token resistance in case of an ensuing fight.

Formidable opponents, both comparable, if not more powerful than the shadow giants hammering away at stone above, the two extra planar creatures are at what seems to be a stalemate. Physical damage does not hurt the fire elemental and the demon seems to be immune to fire, using fire as a weapon itself. It rapidly realises its mistake, noticing the healing effects of fire on the elemental and reconsiders. Spells are tried out, and after an incantation, interrupted twice by blows from the elemental, a terrible spell sends the creature of flame back to the plane where it came from many years ago.

With a growl of victory the demon turns on the mage, who prepares to cast one of the few spells that remain to him. In two bounds the beast is next to him and swings a clawed appendage, which could easily take off Andrion's head. The claw stops millimeters from the mage's neck, but does not touch him. The little shadow essence infused in the spell is enough to create a force inside of the demon, which stops it from harming the one who had summoned it. Seemingly it cannot get across the thin shadow surrounding the mage. After half a dozen, both physical and magical tries at disposing of the annoying creature of shadow that had called it into this plane, the demon realises the futility of its acts and simply waits until it can return to its home plane.

An unnatural silence descends on the chamber once the demon is gone. The faint crackling of the Holy Flame, unperturbed by the whole battle and the even fainter, distant thuds of the giants fists do not reach the mage's ears. His heart still beats fast, his blood still gushes in his veins. He realises that sheer luck has at least as much to do with him being alive than skill. Finally the tension inside of him abating, he lets out a sigh of relief.

As a conclusion to the fierce battle, the unnatural shadow on the chamber lifts as the last of Andrion's spells expires.

The battle has been won, but he still needs to get the flame. A task, that most definitely isn't as simple as just picking it up.
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Old 10-11-2007, 02:10 AM   #290
dplax
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Default Re: LOF: Awakenings

Andrion Wilgor

*thud* *thud* *thud*

The massive blows of the shadow giants fall as Andrion's heart returns to its usual, calm rhythm. His enormous expenditure of energy has left him very weak, but still an effort is needed. He does not move. No use while he does not know what to do.

Logically thinking two things can pose a problem in getting the Holy Flame. It being a flame, and it being holy. The latter is likely to cause quite a few more problems than the former. Andrion proceeds to study his surroundings extremely carefully, cataloging anything that might be of use. He strips the dead defenders, turns out all of their pockets, slashes the fabric of their clothes open.

Blessed symbols, two broken flasks, a silver key with a flame graved on it, a flask with what seems to have blessed water in it, various weapons, all lie on the ground in front of him. First, he examines the key. It is quite small, most likely made for a very small lock. From the corner of his eye he catches the faint glimmer of the Holy Flame glint on something metallic at the base of the pillar it is on.

With a click, he turns the key and heart beating slightly faster, he pulls the small door open. Inside the hole uncovered this way is what he guesses to be the container to transport the flame. A large lantern, made of rare materials, some of which Andrion can not even identify. Clearly an elven hand had participated in its making, along with humans. The reliquary is placed on the ground, next to the items already assembled.

It is time to see exactly how holy the Holy Flame actually is. Andrion would have loved experimenting on it with spells, but he was pretty sure that the Modding Mage wanted the Holy Flame in its original state. He steps next to the pedestal and tries approaching his hand to the base of the flame, where he supposes it to be the least burning. He is unable however to test his theory on the heat it generates for he can't seem to approach the flame, much in the same way that the demon had been unable to approach him.

He loudly curses and returns back to the items in front of him. Clearly he is not pure, not good enough to touch the flame. It's a pity that all the defenders are dead. Unfortunately the demon did a very good job in not leaving anyone alive. The idea of using a summoned creature comes naturally. Andrion mouths the words for a summoning spell, but to his surprise the creature that emerges is not the creature of good he intended to summon, but an evil spirit. Frustrated, he sends the creature immediately away.

It takes Andrion long minutes of thought to realise that he might have gone down a path that no longer allows him to summon creatures that are purely good when he embraced life as a creature of shadow. Several more minutes pass, and then half an hour as Andrion's thoughts go through all the spells he knows or ever knew.

One possibility keeps turning through his mind, a spell, he has never heard being used, but a spell that given the right circumstances...of course, it never being used he did not have it memorised, could barely even remember what was needed for casting it. Although the morbidity of sleeping in such a place made him inwardly chuckle, he could not help fight down the feeling of the place not welcoming the likes of him for extended periods.

There had to be another...and then it hits him. So simple, so elegant, yet so vastly overpowered...He knew that it would be useful to memorise a wish spell before coming here. You never knew what you wanted to wish for. An Unseen Servant cast by the genie himself and as such untainted by shadow magic could prove quite useful.

Much to his chagrin, even a completely neutral creature is unable to take the flame and place it inside its reliquary, as he finds out a couple of minutes later.

Desperately more ideas are tried, but none of the holy symbols can hang around the creature's neck, for it has no tangible body. Ideas come and go, some he tries out, others he discards, until finally he finds one that works. Boiling the blessed water, into which he threw the blessed symbols creates a steam that Andrion can barely bear to touch, but the neutral summonling can easily walk into. Disguised in this way the Unseen Servant is finally able to gather up the flame inside its container.

A tense moment follows, but Andrion can thankfully lift the container by himself, the good of the flame contained inside of it. Dismissing the Unseen Servant he begins the trek back up to where the giants still hammer at the passageway.
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