The Bride and Groom - Chapter 12

[Vardaen]

The sleeping goddess shall awake
And start her lovely dance of doom
When seven tasks ye undertake
And seven wefts pass on the loom.
The second task has now been done:
The twin-soul was slain and rose.
The third weft is now begun:
The seventh bhuts great power grows.
Now the six shall start to fall,
Their death heralding the final doom.
The seventh one shall take them all
And string their souls upon the loom.
The third task now awaits your hands:
To find the talisman the goddess bore,
The skull-crowned glyph that wasted lands
And gave her bones the goddess wore.
Then shall the third weft cross the loom,
The seventh bhut arise in power;
Then shall Suaramas final doom
Draw nearer to the final hour.
Pausa 9, Year 1096, The Middle of the Night, Someplace in the Mahavana Jungle

Six weeks ago there was a wedding in the mountains. Two souls, long in love with one another but held apart by politics, were finally wed. It was a bright and shinning moment in an otherwise dark and terrible time. Shamad Prasad and Sujata Prasad became husband and wife. It was the happiest day in both of their lives. That happiness was not to last. Like all bright moments in Mahasarpa the darkness came to spoil it. Shamad recalls with great pleasure the look of his new bride in the sun. He closes his eyes and there she is, her almond skin, her long raven hair, her full red lips, and her pure wedding sari.

"SHAMAD!" The shouting voice of Ghanji Prasad, Shikari of The Slayers, loyal house member, and long time friend, breaks the moment Shamad was having. "They are regrouping and readying for another attack! Snap out of it and get ready."

Shamad looks around as if still through a fog, he stands someplace in the thick Mahavana Jungle. The land itself is tainted and foul, a thick black marsh has spread out from the ancient ruins of Mahanaga to consume nearly half of the great jungle itself. He stands ankle deep in mud, his attempts to keep even his armor clean have long been abandoned. His flaming tulwar burns brightly as he nods to Ghanji, "Right." To his left stands the Yogi Janak, the last of his old companions besides Ghanji, and to his right are two relatively new faces -- though he's known them for weeks now. Karunama, a tight lipped Brahmin, fights on his right. The man clearly has a past, his fighting style more reminiscent of Toranoshi's than Vivec's. Those are names Shamad's hardly had a chance to think of in the last month and a half. Next to Karunama is another, a Muni name Rakshasamardini, who Ghanji has nick named "Rak". The man is older, but he fights with the vigor and vitality of a man half his age. Both men were 'found' in the mountains in those dark days after the wedding.

Ghanji points toward the gathering shadows, the night making it hard to see what's coming before its almost too late. "There, there they are!" he grabs another pair of arrows and sets them on the string of his bow. Littered around the battle field are already several dozen corpses, bloated and black, the minions of Saurama ready to come at you for a third time tonight.

OOC

Welcome Back to Mahasarpa: Ascension!

Please give me a while to keep posting, there are going to be a few more of these before you start posting.

[Vardaen]

Karttika 29, Temple of the Batasa-Afiz, Six Weeks Ago

Sujata stands with her husband, it has been two days since they were wed and the pair has hardly left the bridal suite provided to them by the Muni of the temple. She is dressed in a plain red sari holding her husband's hands. He stands in simple robes given to him by the muni of the temple. "No! I said no Sujata!" The pleading in his voice causes it to tremble.

Sujata leans forward and puts her forehead to his, "It must be this way dear husband. We must all give into our fate, and this is mine, this is yours, and this is the fate of our unborn child." The two stand near the great pool in the middle of the temple, and have drawn the attention of others. The others politely keep their distance, save for one, an inquisitve monkey man named Rhokti. The monkey man lopes over, on his shoulder is another smaller monkey, Pazi, his friend and familiar. He wields a crooked staff given to him by the baboon swami Durjaya, and he lopes right up and bonk's Shamad on the head with it! "Listen to your mate-woman!" He smiles so widely and has such a child like manner that Shamad can only rub his head and smile back with a mock "Ouch!". Anyone else and Shamad might have cut them in half with a khana-janji strike, but not Rhokti.

Shamad, rubbing his head, looks between the pair, "You have always been against me the two of you! Its not fair, even Ghanji sides with you two more than with me!"

Rhokit shakes his head, eyes wide, "Think-think Shamad, do you wish your baby to be born here? Snake-people, living dead, constant war? No-no, you know what is in your heart." He pokes the man in the chest with his staff, and finally Shamad relents. "Yes Rhokti, you are right. Now leave me and my wife alone." Husband and wife head back into the bridal suite hand in hand.

Pazi gives a loud Oooot and Rhokti nods to the little female monkey, "Yes yes I always listen to you." The monkey man heads off arguing with the little female monkey like an old married couple.

---

Three hours later Sujata stands at the top of the ziggurat in the temple. One hand on her belly, one hand waving to the gathered friends and family. At her side is avatar of The Lost One, the Elephant Headed Deva Afyalupagrah, and several muni of the temple. She and Shamad have just release an embrace that took a threat from Rhokti's staff to finally break. She whispers, "You are my friend, my husband, my soulmate, and the father of my unborn child. You are the hero of this world, when the time comes, I will find you once more, and we stall sit side by side, perhaps in this life, perhaps another, but not even the heavens shall keep us parted forever. Good-bye my love."

Shamad reaches out, "Wait..." but its too late, a growing pure white light reaches out from Afyalupagrah consuming those that stand on the ziggurat. When the blinding light fades she, and those chosen by The Lost One, are gone.

[Vardaen]

Margasirsa 4, unnamed mountain village a few hours from the Temple of the Batasa-Afiz, Five Weeks Ago

Taymullah, the Imam who joined the heroes on the Isle of Afyal is kneeling at the side of a old woman. "She is dead, there is nothing I could do for her. The others however, perhaps there is still time to save them." The white bearded Imam is a foreigner, a man from far off Zakhara but his healing talents and strange magics have proven themselves a force for good. "Najm watch over this poor soul on her travels in the afterlife." He stands and wipes the sweat from his brow.

Nearly half of the villagers in this small unnamed mountain village have come down with some strange disease. Many of these people were at Shamad and Sujata's wedding, the old women provided Sujata with her wedding sari, and the men made sure Shamad had a good time the night before. From here came the feasting foods, and the decorations that Janak the Yogi didn't craft himself. So there is a connection to these people, a desire to take care of them.

Azora looks down at the woman's body, "It is like a shadow has come into her." The Mhuktar is one of the most powerful Baladhara alive today. His trip into the Plane of Shadow and return with the Obsidian Hand attached to his arm has only made him stronger, and more enigmatic. He speaks in riddles from time to time, yet he is as humble as ever. He still blames himself for the deaths of Nakan Prasad, Pusan and the Brahmin Vivec Vashti in that dark world though there was nothing he could do to save them. It was he that first heard of a dark sickness in the village, and he's made it his goal to help as many of the villagers as he can.

The Mhuktar and the Imam tour the rest of the village helping those that are sick and comforting those who have lost loved ones. Ghanji and Toranoshi remain at large, scouting to the next villages to see if the rumors of the disease spreading to them is true or not. It will turn out to be true, nearly every village within two days travel is infected, those further down the mountain are far worse than those up the mountain.

Taymullah's skills, his prayers, and his healing magic begins to make a real difference in fighting the disease. He puts a stop to the spread of it up the mountain, and begins to turn things around, slowing its growth even down the mountain. It takes its toll on the Imam however, each night he retires exhausted from his travels. Luckily Janak is able to travel with him, and each night before its time to rest, the Yogi teleports any who are out and about back to the safety of the Temple of the Batasa-Afiz.

---

Margasirsa 11, Temple of the Batasa-Afiz, Four Weeks Ago

Murder! The Imam Taymullah is found murdered in his bed in the morning by a muni come to clean the chamber. A small crowd has gathered around the chamber door as Shamad pushes his way through them into the chamber. Toranoshi kneels at the side of the bed, holding the edge of a white silken scarf that has been tied around Taymullah's throat like a garrote line. "He was strangled to death in his sleep by an assassin," says your own silent killer. He gently removes the silken scarf and hands it to Shamad, "This is the calling card of the Ataljas, a group of fanatical holy slayers from Ghandarva. What they are doing up here, or what they wanted with Taymullah, I have no idea."

Azora lowers his head and whispers a prayer, "Without him all the progress against the spreading sickness will quickly be lost."

---

Later that night, after the funeral of Taymullah Abd Afyalupagrah

The funeral pyre for Taymullah still burns, smoldering in the darkness, its thin wisps of smoke rising into the air when a muni comes racing into view. "They come! The undead! They are attacking the temple gates!"

[Vardaen]

Margasirsa 14, Some Mountain Village, Three and a Half Weeks Ago

Janak kneels, holding a small broken crystal in his hands. Blue dust floats through the darkness, and the Yogi's eyes are down cast, his brow sweating, and his heart pounding out of his chest. He whispers, "Mani... how did this happen?"

Ghanji replies to the rhetorical question, "Blame Saurama, these are her abominations. We are lucky the only casualty this time was your crystal Janak. It could have been much worse, that house we just stopped the undead from destroying had young children hiding in it." Ghanji wipes the dirt from his face. For the last three days since Taymullah died the group has been moving down the mountain fighting undead after undead. Risen by the sickness that spread the villagers became thralls of Saurama attacking everything with a pulse.

Azora crushes the last throat of a zombie with his Obsidian Hand and tosses the corpse into a pile at his feet. "We can not stop to rest. There are more villages down the trail that need our protection."

Rhokit gives an approving Ooot to Azora while Toranoshi shakes his head, "How many more, we can't hope to protect them all can we?"

Shamad looks up the mountain toward the Temple of the Batasa-Afiz days up the trail, and then down the mountain toward countless villages and hamlets. "We go down. Taymullah died trying to protect these villages. We won't let that death be in vain. Not not, not ever."

---

Marigasirsa 18, Mountain Trail, Three Weeks Ago

Watching Rakshasamardini fight was like watching a dance. Refugees were attempting to escape up the mountain to safety when they were attacked by more undead creatures. Leading these refugees was a muni who had long lived near, but not in, their village. Long had he remained in isolation waiting the time to once more return to the world. When the screams of the village echoed into his cave he was curious. So he ventured forth to find undead abominations attacking the innocent folk that he had come to know and to watch from afar. Something rose up in him once more, a heroic spirit, and he leap into action. His combat powers had long remained unused but his meditations had opened his chakras and focused his prana. Like a bear woken from a long slumber he battled, alone, the forces that beset his village. The people looked on in awe as the 'old man from the cave' shattered skull, and broke bones with seemingly simple ease. "Run you fools!" So they did. Up the mountain. He withdrew behind them, giving the villagers time to escape. Eventually he would be overwhelmed and he knew it, but it was a good way for an old forgotten hero to go out, better than rotting in that cave of his. So he picked a narrow patch of trail that he could funnel the undead through. Behind him up the trail the villagers fled, children clinging to parents in terror, the old long given into the sicken that came weeks ago. The bellowing cry of something more than an undead echoed up the trail, something alive, something raging with the taint that had taken so many already. Rakshasamardini drew his breath, traced a line in the dirt, and balled his fists, "No further. You shall go no further", his voice calm and even, resigned to his fate with an inner peace.

The asura (demon) turned the corner, it could be nothing less than an asura for it stood ten feet tall with great black horns on its head. Its body rippled with muscles, skin shot through with black veins. It was armored, partially, with pieces of armor taken from its many kills, and in its hand was a massive tungi. It charged, but before it could make contact with "Rak" a blast of lighting slammed into it from above the muni. A volley of arrows followed. Charging down the path, through the refugees came those known to some as the Harbingers. Rhokti's hands were still smoking from the release of power, and with a "Oooot!" he smiled at Ghanji next to him who's bow was quivering.

The battle didn't last long after that. It took even less time for "Rak" to join the group in their hunt.

[Vardaen]

Margasirsa 21, Vernal Equinox, Vivec Vashti's Birthday

Someone mentioned it was the Vernal Equinox today, and that reminded Janak that it was the Brahmin Vivec's birthday, or it would have been had he survived. Camped among the rocks of the mountains on the boarder where they turn from mountains to foothills the group is washing in a nearby stream when a figure strides into the camp. Ghanji looks up from the water shocked that he didn't hear the man until he was practically on them all.

"Worry not. I am Karunama here to aid you, so say the Deva." It was all he said, and it was all the group seemed to need at that point for some reason. Something about the man was serene, welcoming, divine, but if you looked at him too long a shiver would go up your spine. A sadhu, a wandering holy man, his powers of healing and divine inspiration would become invaluable in the days and weeks to come.

---

Margasirsa 25, Foothills of the Adribandha Mountains, Two Week Ago


"We need a plan!" It was Toranoshi this time who's voice was raised. Since Shamad's wedding a month ago things had just gotten worse. The Harbingers were standing around yet another battlefield, this time however things had not gone so well for them. The zombies and skeletons were just a decoy that split the group in half. The terrain was working against them, even with Ghanji's constant shouting about tactics in the mountains. Three of those great horned asuras had been laying in wait this time along with a tribe of tainted lizardmen. The asuras were not just massive brutes of strength, but they wielded magic as well, calling down fire and ice on the group as the lizardmen rushed your own spellcasters or slung poison at you.

Ghanji waves his hand at Toranoshi, "Of course we do, but are you going to make it shudra? Let Shamad think for a damn minute." The Shikari was running low on arrows and it was making him worried, and even more brusk than normal.

Janak sat on a stump, Karunama tended to his wounds with another prayer to the Devatta for healing magics. The Yogi was a bit slower, less effective without Mani, but there had been no time to craft a new psicrystal for himself unfortunately.

"OOOT!" The shout came from Pazi, the little monkey always riding on Rhokti's shoulder. "EEEK! EEEK!" All eyes turned away from what they were doing and toward the monkey and the monkey man. Rhokti, normally well protected by his spells, became a target for the asura this time around, and they lowered his protections and apparently scored a hit on the monkey man. However his wound was not just opened flesh or a broken bone. It was something far more sinister -- he was infected with Saurama's taint, and it was spreading, even as Pazi was screaming for help.

[Vardaen]

Margasirsa 25, Foothills of the Adribandha Mountains, Two Week Ago

Rhokti sits on a broken log, the little monkey man has had a hard time lately, his sister died to the Yuan-ti, his village he was sworn to protect was utterly destroyed, his mentor was slain by cultists of Saurama, he was instrumental in starting the Prophecy and releasing The Destroyer, then he was killed in Zakhara after turning on the party from enemy magic, and then he was reincarnated as a Vanaran instead of a Hengeyokai. Now? Now he's poisoned with the black taint of Saurama the Destroyer. A wound on his hip is festering and bleeding a black puss like substance. His little monkey lover Pazi is screaming and banging on the stump in fear and anger. Reaching out he picks her up and pets her, "It is alright Pazikah-Upahda, I know that Shamad will not allow me to turn into one of the undead. Do not fret little one." He gives the little monkey a kiss.

Ghanji shouts, angry and frantic, "There must be something we can do. Karunama, can't you fix that!?" He nearly grabs the holy man and shoves him forward, "Come on! Help him!"

For once everyone actually agrees with Ghanji, something needs to be done. The holy man holds his hand up, "Let me look at it Ghanji, be still." The man kneels before Rhokti and inspects the wound.

Toranoshi says to Shamad, "He was barely hit, I saw the blow, it was with one of the asura's claws. They must be able to spread the taint that way. We should make sure the rest of us are safe."

Shamad nods, "Right. Everyone check your wounds, make sure your blood runs red, and that they aren't infected."

Janak summons water and washes people's wounds, armor and clothing, making sure that everyone is clear of the taint, and it turns out that only Rhokti suffers. The monkey man's flesh is turning necrotic, like a shadow spreading inside his body.

Rak shakes his head, "I've seen this before. It will spread until Rhokti is no more the man we know. It is a terrible fate. One we must not allow to happen." He looks down at Karunama with a raise eyebrow.

The holy man stands shaking his head, "This is healing beyond my ability, I am sorry Rhokti, I can not stop it. I might ease your pain some." He channels healing into the mantrika lessening the paint for a time.

Shamad is pacing, the loss of Rhokti, in such a manner is too much for the man. He's already lost his wife and Taymullah in the last month, and too many others in the last year to count. "No. We won't give up on him. There must be something that can be done."

Then Azora whispers, to himself, he seems prone to do that since returning. "Yes I know, but I may never be able to reverse it." He holds his black crystal hand up and speaks to it, "I agree I don't see any other way." Azora then steps forward, "Fangh and I agree, there is but one way to stop the taint from spreading within Rhokti. It is dangerous, perhaps irreversible, and I do not know how much of him will remain afterwards. But it is the only way I know."

Ghanji shouts, "Then do it Azora! What the hell are you waiting for?!" He is pointing his bow at Azora and hardly even realizes it. The Shikari has never liked Azora, not because of anything personal, but because Azora is in effect Chandala, outside the caste system, and orphan with no real place in the narrow world of the caste system of Mahasarpa. "For the love of the Deva Shamad, tell him to do it!"

Shamad shakes his head, "No Ghanji, it must be Rhokti's choice. I will not take away his chance to choose, not while he still can. Rhokti, friend, what do you want to do?" He rests a hand on Rhokti's shoulder, tears are held at bay behind both men's eyes. Pazi's stopped her ranting and looks up and leaps up on Rhokti's shoulder wrapping her tail around his neck.

Rhokti thinks and looks down at the black festering wound that has already spread another few inches in diameter. He looks at Azora, and then around at the Harbingers. "Ooooo, I will not give in to The Destroyer. I will take Azora's option, I will fight until my last moment. Durjaya will have to wait to see me yet longer. The old baboon talks to much any way." He looks at Azora. "I am ready."

The Mhuktar steps forward, "The Shadar-Kai know of shadow, they are shadow, and the Kali-Ma's power once defeated Saurama, and shall do so again. In this, is a silver of the Kali-Ma's strength." He holds up the Obsidian Hand. "If you are ready I am."

Rhokti jumps down from the log and walks about saying his tearful good-byes to each of you. He starts with the two new men, offers them kinds words and encouragement. He spends more time with Toranoshi, Janak and Ghanji, almost scolding the three to be safe and to protect one another. Then he stops at Shamad and stands on his tip toes and looks the Kshatriya in the eyes. "There is greatness in you Shamad Prasad, do not doubt yourself while you remain true to the quest. Your men are loyal to the end, and it is through you that this world will be saved." He gives the man a great big hug, even Pazi joins in. While he's leaned in he whispers something for Shamad's ear only and then both men nods to one another.

Rhokti strides back to stand before Azora in the darkness of the jungle. The jungle has grown silent, the birds are gone, the animals long fled this place. A wind dies down and the even the trees are still. "I am ready Muhtkar, save my soul!"

Azora nods, "This may hurt a little." Then Azora plunges the Obsidian Hand into Rhokti's chest! The hand ignites in a bright purple psionic fire as it plunges through Rhokti's body as if he was made of water. The fire erupts out of Rhokti's orafices, his nose, mouth, eyes, ears. Attempting to scream Rhokti's arms flex straight out. Pazi screaming on Rhokti's shoulder grabs her lover tighter and the purple light spreads to her, she too shining brightly. Azora holds his hand there and speaks in a language that only the Shadar-Kai might know these days, the words are those spoken to and for the Kali-ma. Ghanji looks back and forth between Azora and Shamad, but Shamad makes no move to stop the Mhutkar for he trusts Azora with his life and Rhokti's.

Rhokti and Pazi begin to change, the purple fire turns darker where it touches the taint in Rhokti's side but even from that opening spills the violet psionic flames and the darkness is consumed by them. It becomes hard to look at Rhokti, and you begin to shield your eyes from the light, but through your fingers you can see Rhokti growing smaller even as his skin takes on a stony like appearance. It is impossible to describe just what transformation is taking place but the little monkey man's body is being compressed and transmuted, finally his hand releases the staff he's holding -- Durjaya's staff but as it falls to the mud it is no longer the same it once was, it is touched and changed as well. Azora chants louder and louder, and he struggles with his effort. Those that look at him long enough see a tall figure of shadow looming over the Mhutkar. The figure is of a man like humanoid of white skin with circling tattoos of black and red all up and down his nearly naked body. He appears to be assisting Azora in the task.

Then there is a great rushing noise like going over a waterfall, the purple light flares so brightly you are all blinded for a moment, but instead of seeing nothing but black you have visions of slender spires and minarrets in a world of pure black and white. Great leathery winged beasts sail in the air and tiny forms of white skinned people travel the city.

Then the image and the blindness ends. Azora's ritual is over, he lays slumped forward doubled over, his hands clenched tightly. Rhokti and Pazi are gone. Steam rises up off the Mhutkar's body and he appears utterly exhausted. Through labored breathing he whispers, "He is safe for now."

Azora opens his crystal hand, and there, about the size of an egg is a small obsidian stone. A tiny little nub falls off the main and rests next to it in the palm of Azora's hand. "Loyal to the end."

[Vardaen]

Margasirsa 29, The Edge Mahavana Jungle, Ten Day Ago

"It must be done." Azora's voice is strong once more. After the transformation of Rhokti into an Obsidian PsiCrystal the Mhuktar was incredibly weak. Over the last four days he's been regaining his strength and his power. "If there is any hope for Rhokti, or for us, I must return to my own mission Shamad. I must leave you and seek the Soul Stones of the Mhuktar stolen by the Rakshasa Kashtarak. Only when I have the full power of the Mhuktar that came before me can I hope to fulfill my destiny. With them I should also be able to reclaim Rhokti from the stone and purge his taint. I wish I could go with you all, but my path lies in another direction and I must do this alone. Last time, last time I did not listen to the Dali Llama and it was disastrous." He hangs his head remembering Nakan, Pusan, and Vivec. "I will return to the Temple of the Batasa-Afiz and travel the Daryaca Abrar Atala, the River of Holy Shadow one last time to Zardula."

Ghanji rolls his eyes, and stalks off to keep watch. The group is getting smaller and smaller every week. The Shikari glances over his shoulder and comments to Rak, "Just when we might actually need him he leaves again."

Shamad and Janak stand before Azora. The yogi Janak has taken the Rhokti Stone and mounted it on the Staff of Durjaya, around the staff floats the little black stone that is Pazi. Janak still can hear and speak to Rhokti inside the psicrystal; and still struggles a bit to control the chattering monkey man inside the stone. "You should listen to Shamad. Perhaps we can free Rhokti another way, but it may take the power that put him in the stone to release him."

Shamad paces, his hand on his blade on his hip. "Alright Azora. I can't hold you here by any real means, but I had thought the bonds of friendship might convince you to stay, but if you must do this you must do this. Then we shall come with you."

Azora holds his hand up, the Karbu-dar Ashall shimmering in the light. His black hand shot through with white and silver veins. "No! The Dali Llama was clear in his words last time. I must leave my friends behind or be their doom. I will go, and I will find the Nine Soul Stones of the Mhuktar, and when I do I shall return to you and we will slay Saurama once and for all." He holds his hand out to shake Shamad's hand, and the two embrace. Shamad's hand is burnt and twisted from the fires that burned down Bhalluka, and Azora's real hand is completely missing, cut off in the Shadow Realm. The two are a pair and they laugh at one another for a moment. "Be safe Azora, and don't take too long, we still have the Yuan-ti to kick out of Bhalluka after all."

Azora bows, "Good-bye my friends, until our Dharma meets once more." Azora turns and heads back into the foothills of the mountains to scale the trails once more back to the temple of his people, to use the ancient Shadar-Kai water ways through the Plane of Shadow on his quest to collect the ancient stones that bare the souls of the Mhuktar that came before him.

When he's out of sight Shamad snaps his fingers, "Toranoshi." The dhuka comes right to him. "Follow him, keep him safe. He worries if he leads men they will die, and perhaps that is true. So you are no longer his friend, you are his protector. I order you to keep the Mhuktar safe, and to do so in secret for as long as you possibly can. If he knows you are following him he will abandon his mission, or worse. You understand me Toranoshi?"

A sly grin comes over Toranoshi's face, "I understand you Saradara Prasad. You know Ghanji already hates him, if you wanted to send someone who isn't frinds with Azora he could do it."

Shamad replies, "I thought of that, but only you have the power to move unseen, and sideways through the world. When Azora goes to use the portal it will take every trick you know to get near to him and to hold on and don't let go. Come back to us alive."

Toranoshi bows deeply, "You have always been my friend Shamad, and you know me, nothing can kill me, I'm untouchable. Just do me one favor. If you run into my brother again, finish him off, for real this time."

Shamad laughs and claps Toranoshi's hand tightly, "Deal!"

The shudra waves to the rest of you, "I better get going Azora can set a pretty good pace." The group waves their good byes in return and just like that Toranoshi Daruka heads off after Azora back up the mountain.

[Vardaen]

Pausa 9, Year 1096, The Middle of the Night, Someplace in the Mahavana Jungle

Shamad's thoughts consume him. The last six weeks have been insane, so many friends dead or gone now. At some point after Azora and Toranoshi left he sat down with those that remained and had a conversation. The Prophecy has no doubt changed since last he heard it. Ghanji was adamant that they needed to know what it says now, and there is only one way to do that -- return to the Ziggurat of the Sun and Moon, and stand before the Death Mask of the Destroyer and hear it spoken for themselves. Unfortunately Janak's power to move astral won't help you, he has never been there, or anyplace close. That means you have to travel, by foot, through the tainted jungle of the Mahavana into Yuan-ti controlled jungles to the temples. Fortunately you have Ghanji with you, the shikari could never get lost in the jungle. So for a week since leaving Azora you've been trekking through the Mahavana heading west by southwest growing closer and closer to the Prasad's old stomping ground. Every night you are attacked, and without Rhokti's secure shelter things have been hard to deal with. The jungle has turned against you, muck and swamp, poisonous plants and serpents, undead beasts, asura, and worse.

"SHAMAD!" The shouting voice of Ghanji Prasad, Shikari of The Slayers, loyal house member, and long time friend, breaks the moment Shamad was having. "They are regrouping and readying for another attack! Snap out of it and get ready."

Shamad looks around as if still through a fog, he stands someplace in the thick Mahavana Jungle. The land itself is tainted and foul, a thick black marsh has spread out from the ancient ruins of Mahanaga to consume nearly half of the great jungle itself. He stands ankle deep in mud, his attempts to keep even his armor clean have long been abandoned. His flaming tulwar burns brightly as he nods to Ghanji, "Right." To his left stands the Yogi Janak, the last of his old companions besides Ghanji, and to his right are two relatively new faces -- though he's known them for weeks now. Karunama, a tight lipped Brahmin, fights on his right. Next to Karunama is another, a Muni name Rakshasamardini, who Ghanji has nick named "Rak". The man is older, but he fights with the vigor and vitality of a man half his age. Both men were 'found' in the mountains in those dark days after the wedding.

Ghanji points toward the gathering shadows, the night making it hard to see what's coming before its almost too late. "There, there they are!" he grabs another pair of arrows and sets them on the string of his bow. Littered around the battle field are already several dozen corpses, bloated and black, the minions of Saurama ready to come at you for a third time tonight.

OOC

Welcome to the game! Its the middle of the night, and you've already fought off a few waves of undead creatures. I think its time for your own intro's and thoughts, descriptions and what have you. Finish up those sheets, the enemy is coming!

[TetNak]

The Saradara of House Prasad blinks and shakes his head several times, snapping out of his daydream. Shamad's eyes peer through the darkness of night, the light of Airi-asi burning bright in his hand and illuminating his direct surroundings. Shamad's acid stained chin is hidden from view by the beard he has grown since his wedding, although that part is slightly patchy, and parts of his neck are fully exposed with black, scarred flesh.

Shamad takes a step forward, reaching over his shoulder and pulling free his large shield of Ghandarva. His bone armor move like wind chimes, clacking ever so softly against the backdrop of bloodshed. His steel plated and ruby encrusted set of dastana cover much of his forearms and hands, but as always, his right hand is also hidden by a black leather glove. It is a reminder of Bhalluka and the raging fire that nearly killed him.

The Kshatriya furrows his brow, a habit he has gained ever since Sujata gave him his wedding gift, a thin circlet rote of gold, fashioned in the shape of a never ending line. It is the symbol of their equally never ending love and Shamad has been seldom without it upon his head since.

"Form behind me," Shamad tells Ghanji, knowing he will need to keep the undead from the Shikari.

Shamad

OOC

YO! Let's kill some stuff!

[Muskrat]

Karunama gazes out into the night as another wave of undead surges before them. He sets his hands on the twin short swords he carries with him, both magical. One of them, named Baqar's Horn, is elaborately carved with holy symbols that empower it against all evil beings, its hilt made from a real bull's horn. At his side, hangs a short bow, also marked with holy symbols to empower it against the undead, and a quiver of arrows. A prayer to Baqar the Holy Bull and the other benevolent devas is on his lips.

Karunama wonders if facing this wave of undead is not his karma for the evil deeds his performed earlier in his life, when he was a holy slayer of the Atalja clan. He has long since given up that life and has the shaved head, holy marks, and simple robes of a wandering Brahmin priest. He wears no armor, relying on the enchanted braces on his arms. In a way, he welcomes the undead, for battling them will let him put right his karma and make up for the sins of his past. And though he wears the robes of Brahmin now, he still draws on the training of his youth, using the skills of a khoja to protect the innocent instead of slaying them.

Display

OOC

Almost ready to go--I still need to pick out the last of my equipment. If this is the third attack we've faced this night, how are we doing in terms of spells, channel energies and other expendable abilities?