< Madness Lays Claim | Red Ice Logs | A Meeting of Eyes >
The trip to and search for the temple where your meeting has been arranged is an arduous one. The snowfall blocks your way several times, even the yellow stardust of Iron Horse is of limited use getting through the harsh landscape.
Eventually the temple comes into view, a low blocky structure that sprawls across an entire valley, covering the ground with icy black stone. The temple must cover nearly an entire square mile, but the bat-like demons that greet you are happy to take you exactly to the place where you need to be.
Kinqueduran seems on-edge, for obvious reasons. His left hand tightens its hold on the large cloth sack as he follows the demonic doorkeepers.
Iron Horse doesn't seem all that happy either, looking left and right and seeking good routes where to make a getaway... just in case.
There are few ways that would offer an easy escape. The Thorrigig were almost certainly sent to be your guides because of their wings, only those who fly would have an easy time navigating this valley.
Thorrigig: "Lift up your arms and we will carry you to our grandfather." their batlike faces show no expression, but the reddish eyes glimmer with dislike for such a task
Kinqueduran grips the Lance of Mars Descending irritably, but lifts his arms to allow them to carry him.
Iron Horse grumbles a bit, but lifts his arms nontheless.
The emaciated demons are remarkably strong, lifting both men easily into the air. The proximity of their sharp fangs to your necks is discomforting, especially as they continually dip their heads slightly, opening their jaws and then snapping closed, as if slapped smartly. The demons bring you into a broken room of the temple. Once the demons have deposited you, they return to the cloud-covered skies above, snarling incoherantly.
Kinqueduran barely manages to restrain the desire to punch one of the demons, grumbling as he resettles the coarse poncho on his shoulders.
Iron Horse rolls his shoulder and glances around quickly once more. "... hmmm."
Kin: "I don't like this, but I guess that could go without saying."
Iron Horse: "I don't like it either..."
Kinqueduran shifts his weight from one foot to another, turning to examine the room.
A sevsimtali enters the room, a larger sev than they've seen before, and decorated with many piercing and tattooes. It glares at them resentfully, wishing it was somewhere else eating people instead. "You are Iron Horse and Kinqueduran?"
Kinqueduran being on-edge as it is, his patience for social grace is all but gone. "Cut the bullshit and get to the meeting."
The sevsimtali snarls at him, but does so, turning around and leading them through the doors and into an intricate set of passageways, feet crunching bits and pieces of rubble to dust. It is a long, sobering walk, ending at an elaborately constructed chamber.
Kinqueduran follows the demon into the bowels of the temple, gritting his teeth as he enters the chamber.
Iron Horse follows closely after Kinqueduran, glancing around a bit.
A massive being sits in the center of the sancutary, nestled among fallen monoliths of black-green stone. It would almost appear to be human, a massivly obese female form, lounging among the broken rocks. The beast could never be considered attractive, covered in splotches of cancerous growth and lesions that split and spill fluid onto the ground. Its hair waves in the still air, anything it touches begining to crumble away.
Kinqueduran tosses the bag in his left hand to the ground in front of the being, but says nothing at all about it.
Yurik: "Yes, the head of my messenger. Why do you bring this to me?"
Kin: "We'll address that later. Why did you call us here?"
Yurik: "Is it not custom among humans to meet with those attempting to destroy you so better methods can be found to resolve the conflict?"
Kin: "If you have a 'better method', spit it out."
Yurik: "Cease your actions. You will not succeed in thrwarting the Daughter's plans or Celphindal's schemes. We will inevitably destroy you."
Kin: "I said 'better method', not 'babbling tit'."
Kin: "It seems to me that not fighting you is the worst possible option. You insist that you'll inevitably destroy us, but wouldn't that be the case whether we fought you or not?"
Yurik: "No, no, no. It is the dead who wish you to be thrown screaming into the Void for all time. We will allow you to serve us. Maybe even serve me directly. Celphindal is kind, he will spare you if you deliver Creation to him."
Kin: "Do you have the slightest idea who you're talking to?"
Yurik: "I am not a Sevsimtali you can duel with, foolish Exalt. I am Yurik the Dissolver. It is you who is lacking understanding."
Kin: "I don't really care who you are, nor am I challenging you."
Kin: "Now, I'm going to do you the favor of assuming that you're not a complete fool. With that in mind, shall we skip to the ambush?"
Yurik: "There will be no ambush. I would not be seen as less trustworthy then the dead and they have let your friends escape. My spies tell me this. Soon, they will meet with you in Ur. And you may yet see reason."
Kin: "No, I think we're done here."
Yurik shrugs, sending a ripple through her layers of fat. "If you wish. You will eventually realize how foolish it is to ally with the dead and come back to me. I am a patient woman. I will wait."
Kinqueduran just turns to Iron Horse. "Anything you need to say, or shall we just go?"
Iron Horse: "... that's a woman?"
Iron Horse shudders a bit, and shakes his head. "Let's just go."
Kinqueduran grits his teeth and nods, turning back to the door.
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