Trapped Between the Sand and a Dark Goddess
18
DEC/20
Mar’iya grasped at the wound at his side trying to staunch the warm lifeblood that seeped between his fingers, while Naga rushed forward and knelt down next to Selise’s limp form. “I’ve got her,” the elf whispered confidently, as he laid his tattooed hand gently upon her brow and whispered a few soothing words. When Naga had finished his brief prayer, a soothing warm light could be seen emanating from between her forehead and his palm…was that dragon tattoo moving? Selise’s eyes flew open as her body hungrily devoured the healing energy, and she awoke with an audible gasp. It took the young rogue a moment to gather her focus as she looked around at the concerned faces staring down at her. When she met Mar’iya’s gaze, her eyes dropped down to the stain that was forming on his red robes. “I’m sorry,” she muttered sheepishly, “I wa…”
“Think nothing of it, I am just glad you didn’t finish the job,” Mar’iya interrupted her, with a wan smile and a flippant wave of his hand – the one not coated in his own blood. While his comment might have seemed pleasantly dismissive, Mar’iya was distinctly aware that he had gotten very lucky. The young Yavapai woman had been forged into a weapon during her time with the tribe upon the desert sands, but her stint upon the streets of Raam had sharpened her to a razor’s edge. If David hadn’t had the foresight to pop Selise out of existence for a moment and buy them all some time to regroup, Mar’iya had no doubt that it would be him lying there on the cold stone floor instead of her. Selise returned his forgiving gesture with a look of appreciation, and the party began discussing how they should proceed…
As they deliberated, Mar’iya watched as David dismissed his mindblade – the shimmering shard of pure psionic energy dissolving into a cloud of mist – and the young Psion closed his eyes and began to glow softly. As the glowing intensified, Mar’iya could watch the myriad of wounds on David’s body magically knit themselves closed. Mar’iya had first seen Lyra perform this feat, following their many battles upon the streets of Balic. She had patiently tried to teach it to him, but he found that he could never still his mind enough to hold onto the soothing, harmonic vibrations that the act required. You need to learn to relax and listen to the hum of the universe, she had instructed him patiently. To Vashir, as a Templar in the service of the Thir-King, you would have better luck asking a ravenous Baazrag not to attack than to ask him to relax and be still.
But he was no longer Vashir, that vile serpent had died the moment Arnia had sacrificed herself to save them – perhaps Mar’iya would have better luck? He tried to mirror David’s form and calm demeanor, focusing on his breathing and slowing his mind. It did not take long for the warming sensation to form, a ball of heat and light that formed at the base of his spine, that blossomed and grew and slowly spread throughout his body. He focused some attention at the wound at his side and let out a deep breath as he felt it knit itself closed. He was getting the hang of this he thought with a sense of pride, and his mind began to wander…
How many times had he been attacked by those he considered friends, he wondered idly; trying to formulate a quick tally. Life as a Patrician in Balic had earned him dozens such attempts on his life, but could anyone honestly be considered a friend in such an environment? Most of those did not count. Most. Selise had stabbed him with the very dagger he had gifted her – oh, the irony – but she was also under the sway of a powerful undead entity at the time. Did that count? Then there was Sora. He flinched noticeably at this memory, and the light within him flickered and weakened for a moment. He had gotten really lucky there. He had known a number of fearsome warriors in his time – the Thir-King only used the best of the best – but this dragonborn could hold her own up against almost any two of them. Hells, she…and David…had stood toe to toe against not one, but two, of the mighty purple monstrosities that terrorized the desert wastes. He could still see that look of pure, uncontrolled rage in her eyes as she had plunged her terrible sword into his chest. He shuddered at the memory, and the light within him blinked out entirely.
By the Five, I cannot even still my mind for even a moment he chided himself silently, wishing that he had Oni’s discipline and mental strength. Mar’iya attempted to channel his friend as he settled himself into a lotus position, feeling only mostly like an imposter as he did so. Focus on the vibrations. Breathe. Breathe. Relax. He felt the light began to glow within him again; spreading slowly throughout his body. There….he could just barely feel it: a slight cosmic hum; a slow steady drum; the heartbeat of the universe.
Thrum. Thrum. Thrum. The sound coursed through his body, echoing off of his soul, as Mar’iya focused on nothing else. His closed eyes beheld a kaleidoscope of fractals and patterns of glowing and pulsating lights. He focused on his breathing, and the cosmic heartbeat slowed down. Thrum……Thrum…………….Thrum. The fractals gradually solidified themselves into a single white gem. Thrum. The gem shatters into a thousand tiny stars as Oni strikes it with the butt end of his staff. Thrum. The grateful form of Amun’Re desolidifies and dissolves into tiny droplets of watery mist. Thrum. A drop of rain strikes down hard upon a barren patch of ground. Thrum. Then another. Thrum. Thrum. Thrum. The vibration speeds up as the heavens unload their life-giving bounty upon the thirsty desert sand.
Thrum. Thrum. Thrum. The sound becoming clawed feet that beat mercilessly upon the desert floor. Then the view changes as his third eye opens up; high in the heavens looking down upon the world. Thrum, thrum, thrum. Five riders, spread out across the crimson sands, spaced like the points of a star, and all racing at breakneck speed to converge in the center, leaving clouds of choking death in their wake. The riders were dressed head to toe in flowing monochromatic silks over dull, steel armor: one all in white astride a scaled steed of the same color; another in black riding a steed the color of darkest night; and one in blue; and another in green; and another garbed all in red riding a crimson drake that frothed liquid fire from its mouth as it strained under the weight of its rider and raced across the barren sands. The steeds raised up impossibly high plumes of dust behind them, and these clouds left the land choking, and burning, and frozen, and still. They were the embodiment of Her living rage and they drove forward with singular purpose. Thrum! All five riders converge at the same point in a massive cacophony; an explosion of fire, darkness, and death. THRUM! A yellowed eye opens upon a red-scaled face, the reptilian pupil narrowing to a razorthin sliver as it gains focus upon its prey. Behind the thrumming heartbeat, he could almost hear the Thir-King’s laughter.
Thrum. Hrmm. Marum. Marya. An insistent tugging on his arm awoke Mar’iya from his hallucination. He slowly roused himself and opened his eyes, and found himself staring into the confused faces of his companions, who were all shielding their eyes from the brilliant light that was streaming out of his body. He promptly regained control of his faculties and the light winked out of existence, and he slumped forward from the effort. Oni released his grip on his shoulder with a look of concern. “Are you OK, my friend?” he asked, his voice was bathed in worry. Mar’iya wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and shot his friend what he hoped was a convincing look. “Yes, sorry,” he gasped. “David makes it look so easy.” He flashed the young Psion is wry smile. “I will get the hang of it. Someday. What did we decide?”
As the group started to lay out their plans for the remainder of the tomb, Mar’iya found his thoughts drifting back to his vision. He didn’t need a snakereader to discern what it meant: Tiamat was hunting for them and…if She didn’t already…She would soon knew where they were. He reflected back to the book he had found in Artellius Quintus’ forbidden library. There had been Gods before Her, and She had destroyed them all. How can we hope to prevail where so many have fallen before Her? He thought, glumly. Even if they were successful in bringing Lathander back into this world, hadn’t this God already died to Her once? And he had the might of the world and the Pantheon of the Doomed by his side when he had last faced Her wrath. As powerful as Mar’iya and his friends had become in the past months, they were but motes of dust before the Queen of Darkness and her vast forces.
We need allies, and lots of them, he thought resolutely. They had a small fortune between them, but it was a paltry sum when compared to the might of the noble houses. Perhaps Lady Gardiward could be convinced to join their cause – Naga would have to be placated out of his desire for vengeance, but Mar’iya was fairly certain the Warlock could be swayed. Perhaps she knows of other noble families – if they oppose the Thir-King, perhaps they would oppose his mistress as well? The pyramid of Amun’Ra had the makings of one of the great cities: fertile soil, ample water, and a remote location. They needed to get that space in the hands of those who shared similar goals as themselves before it was overrun by strongmen or hostile tribes, or worse. Mar’iya felt at the small pouch of coins on his belt, enough coin to buy dozens of acres of verdant orchards and live out the rest of his days in relative luxury. But was it enough to buy an army?
Well, first they had to clear out this dungeon teeming with vile undead, find a powerful magical artifact that had been hidden here millennia ago and destroy it, and then escape from this tomb that had been sinking ever deeper into the bowels of the earth since they had stepped foot inside of it. But that would be easy compared to what comes next.