Cold Iron, Empty Throne

You find that you're up first the next morning. Apparently, without the actual structure of the priesthood pushing you to a schedule, most of the others prefer to sleep late. The quiet gives you a little more time alone with your thoughts than you really would prefer right now. You aren't the most outgoing person, but it can be nice to have conversations and people around, preferably at a safe distance.

You rummage through the food stores, finding that, as Kalju had said, things are getting a bit thin here, and this is after the tall spearman had made a more thorough search and stored everything as accessibly as he could. You find a few unappetizing lumps and decide that that's breakfast today.

As a distraction from the food, you decide to also take the time to care for your sword a bit. You have a strong impression you're going to need it again soon, even if things do go to plan. With only so many hands, though, you can't do both at the same time. The end result is that breakfast ends up half-eaten and pushed to one side as you instead focus on the sword, which is where you are when Zahira joins you. It's not too surprising to see her. She was the first to bed, so being up makes sense.

You've seen her first thing in the morning before and again her long black hair is definitely showing the wear of sleeping on it. She dumps a collection of things on the table. Cosmetics, you think. "Don't you ever sleep?" she grouses.

You don't say anything in return, mainly because right at that moment you were looking down the blade of your sword to ensure nothing had bent it. It's a familiar pattern, one you've mastered so long ago that it's not even worth thinking about any longer: inspect, test edge, sharpen or otherwise work as needed, clean, polish.

Looking up from her cosmetics, Zahira wrinkles her nose at the oils and cloths you have to care for the sword. "Yuck. I almost can't tell what of that is supposed to be edible." She leans across and grabs some of the jerky at your elbow. She doesn't look any happier about its state than you do. "Sorry about kissing you without warning last night. Wasn't really thinking. I was just so happy to have magic again."

"It's all right," you say, finally content that your sword is ready for action. You re-sheathe it and set it aside, then wipe your fingers and go back to the bits of breakfast she hadn't grabbed. "Kalju had a breakthrough last night, too, after you went to bed. Oh, and Ant says you're going to be good with any magic you try."

Zahira snorts. "Years and years of training, nothing. One night of giving you a purpose, and suddenly the ex-sacrifices are achieving things. Life's a bitch."

"We're going to try to steal the emperor's potion reserves." Engaging with Zahira isn't always a winning proposition.

"I'm coming with you, then."

You swallow the last of your breakfast before replying. "Are you sure? We wouldn't mind a fire mage backing us up, but... you're not a warrior quite like we are. Magic's good, but it's not going to help much if we do run into something that decides to, say, shoot an arrow at you. I don't think you're ready to incinerate flying arrows before they hit you or anything."

"You're right. But..." Zahira holds up her hands. Small, steady flames, like super-bright versions of the best candles, tip a finger on each hand, completely banishing shadows from her face... and revealing what might be a weird flush. "You don't know. You really don't know. You've never felt the rush of magic flowing through your body the way I have. I'm looking for an excuse to cast. Besides, you owe me for this being my idea."

"If you're going to do anything stupid or put the rest of us at risk, you're not coming." There's iron in your tone, and Zahira recognizes it as such. She deflates, and the fires wink out.

"Fine. No, that's not it. I'm gonna be a good little soldier girl today. But I'd like to be this new world's first archmage, and part of that is exercising my magic. It does have to be pushed."

You give her a lopsided smile. "Welcome aboard."

- -

The rest of your group gets up and readies themselves for the day. There's no complaints about your decision to go for potions today. Having a goal now seems to be almost a release of tension, even if you're not sure that anyone else has yet put thought into what you'll do once you have a power that probably no one else alive possesses... but not one that will solve all your problems on their own. This is a bargaining tool, not an endgame.

Getting as far as the front entrance to the potion vault is relatively easy, as well. It's public knowledge, even if standard procedure before the world fell apart was to have the doors sealed shut and protected by ceremonial guards who would warn people away from the true guardians within.

Given the current tension between Lady Adara, the Regency Council, and general unrest of people, that's changed. No one wants guards defending something useless, and the doors are still closed, though they're as thoroughly cracked as most magical items you've seen. A foul stench emanates from the doors as you approach. It's probably the stench that has driven people away, as there's little evidence of people on the street in front.

The door is still an interesting challenge. Although, like many magical items, it cracked and broke, it's still largely effective as a barrier, as the cracks mostly were not clear through. Additionally, it is huge. This is a door meant to allow access by even gods, so the scale is enough that you indeed feel small as you approach it at a merely human size. There's only one place you can see that potentially would allow you through. Near the place where the double doors would swing wide, there's a chunk of wall material that has come free, thanks to a diagonal crack that did go all the way through.

The dirt around it looks somewhat disturbed, and cobblestones have been pulled up. You note this with some concern. Has someone already gotten in here? But, no, the block is still in place. Or back in place? You push concern out of your mind and call for the group to slide it away. It takes you, Dawn, and Kalju a significant struggle to find a place to grip and still more to slide it clear. Once it is, you have a little path in. It's not a big one: you're going to have to more or less go double to go in. You have a bit of a bad feeling about it, so you sneak a glance before you commit.

An unblinking eye almost as large as your shield stares back out at you. With an undignified yelp, you fall back and scramble away. A second, even more cautious approach reveals two things: one, it's unblinking because it's dead. And, two, it's the source of the awful stench. The dead guardian creature seems to not have been quite flush up against the door, but it's not far away, hence why it seemed to be watching any previous thieves who had tried to slide out the door-chunk before now.

You dictate the order: you first, then Zahira (you need light), Kalju, Samir, Dawn. It's the best you can come up with to get a variety of assets in while staying a bit safe.

The actual infiltration almost makes you lose the breakfast that wasn't great the first time. You're hunched over, wriggling through a god-sized door, towards a rotting beast of some terrible nature. The stench is unbearable, almost a physical barrier in its own right, but you force yourself past, and slide to one side. No light penetrates far; the cracks in the door let in what there is, and the immense pile of rotting fur blocks a lot of that.

Zahira complains excessively the whole time she comes in, despite Dawn trying to encourage the mage to be quiet. Unlike you, Zahira does end up having to pause to empty her stomach, by the sound of things. It doesn't make the smell any worse. Once she's in, she throws a couple of little fiery lights. The first one she tries fizzles out in only a couple of seconds, but the second stays hovering in the air and gives you enough to see.

There are actually two bodies here already. One is the beast you'd already squeezed past. It turns out to be some fearful chimera, with one of its heads having fallen just right to eye the outside, and the smallest, snake-headed end on the far side towards the second body. The second one is a spirit of some kind, as it's vaguely human but with the sort of androgynous perfection of form no real person can match, and it's not rotting. It will just disappear eventually, instead. You eye it. A demon of some sort, you guess, but it's hard to be sure. You slip a little closer, for a better look. A succubus, you eventually decide. All demons have in common that they gather their spiritual energy not from general worship, but from draining dry the life force of one being at a time. Up until the Great Dying, a captive demon was a last-ditch resort for many of the powerful. Just throw it its food now and then and aim to compel it when at your weakest... or even threaten to just release it unbound if some foe cornered you.

You whirl.

Some unknown sense set you turning just in time. The snake-head that made up the chimera's tail was, somehow, still alive, and it had lunged at your back. Fangs pass both above and below your shield, which is wedged in the monster's gaping jaws, but it's not so large as to entirely engulf it.

Zahira shouts something and throws flame at it... but it's not a fireball. Not an attack spell. She's just throwing fire, and that's not the same thing. You and the mostly-dead chimera feel the heat, but are not burnt up. The snakehead tries to wrench the shield from you, but you hold onto its center-grip gamely. If you let go, it could spit it away and nip at you, and you're not sure you could jump away from it in time.

You realize that holding on here is a losing game, too. The snake will drag you closer, and then loop a coil around you to crush. It's got enough length for that. You stab your sword up, under the lower jaw, then hack at its nose above you. Neither attack penetrates as far as you need it to, though blood flows from both.

Then Kalju is there. His spear stabs the monster in its coils, and it lets go your shield to attack this new threat.

That was a fatal mistake on its part. As soon as you're free, you slash for its throat, and cut clean across it. It sputters for a while, but it's incapable of movement and clearly mortally wounded. You all back away, and let things happen.

"That's stupid," Zahira pants, trying to pull herself together after the danger passes. "You can't be partially rotting, partially alive. It doesn't work. What... oh, gods. It had multiple souls, didn't it? One per head. The stronger souls died... and the weakest was only able to control the tail." She looks queasy at this thought, too.

By now, though, everyone has come in. There's nothing more to be gained from the dead, so you pass by the corpses.

With Zahira's light, you pass further in, and around the one corner in the vault. This puts you up against a wall, with shelves carved into the bedrock, all high above you, and a ladder on a sliding fixture for those of more mortal stature to reach.

There are three apiece, each in its own cabinet, protected by a glass sheet. Each is well-labeled. The leftmost is a scarlet one that is lit with its own internal light: "Hell's Heart". Next to it is a grey-brown mess labeled "Gorgon's Gaze". Then a sickly green "Hydra's Breath". Those three are all ferociously deadly; potions that will break armies or fleets. They are something of a strategic reserve. The last two are less destructive, but no less potent. "Veritas' Touch" is a truth serum. Low doses make it painful to lie and middling doses are said to inspire great insights, discoveries and inventions. High doses, it is said, strip away every comforting illusion and break the mind of those who are exposed to it, but its other effects are more regularly pursued; taking a medium dose is an occasional reward for a would-be genius who needs an edge... and can afford the chance. The last one is "Asklepian's Staff". This potion heals all ills with enough exposure... all ills. It can even reverse aging itself, making it a potential immortality serum. The gods always forbade mortals from taking it more than once, for reasons of their own, but the occasional rogue mage or thief would still try to pursue this route at times, instead of any approved methods of life extension.

That's it. You've reached this first. You frown. Did you just hear voices that aren't from your group? Kalju, in the back, turns to look, but the one corner you've turned hides you, at least, and Zahira's floating light is faint.

As your group falls silent, straining your ears, you hear the conversation in the chamber you've left behind.

"...for the Regency Council!"

"I don't recognize your authority. Lady Adara--"

"--Your jumped-up noblewoman and her--"

"You have no respect for--"

Samir quietly nocks an arrow. Zahira glances at you for orders. The other two wait. They know you'll give them a recognizable signal without looking at you.

You glance at the potions, but just using them is not a good move right now. They are... somewhat uncontrolled in effects. And you're in an enclosed underground space. And whoever is arguing is directly between you and the way out.

[] Grab the potions. Bluff your way out.
[] Grab the potions. Wait for whoever wins whatever showdown is going on to come to you.
[] Write-in?

The encounter at the other end of the vault isn't your immediate concern. The potions are. You are to keep your eyes on the prize if you want to get something out of this, and whoever holds these potions is going to be holding quite an ace. The better part is that no one even suspects you're in here. Let them exhaust themselves on each other. You look over the team quickly, then gesture for Samir and Kalju to stand with you, ready to fight whoever comes around the corner. The best way to get at the potions is to have one person up the ladder, and another push the ladder from recess to recess, so the one on the ladder can get them quickly. Samir's bow is your best ranged support, so he can't go for the ladder, Kalju's new strength means you don't want to take him from the front lines, and Zahira is your shortest and lightest companion, making her the most obvious to go up the ladder.

It was thus down to splitting you and Dawn between fighting and pushing the ladder, and you're not going to demand one of your squad fight while you stand back. You stand in the front, shield ready. Behind you, you hear Zahira trying to give Dawn a lesson on exactly how huge an undertaking any of these potions were to make: expensive and rare ingredients, a great mage's knowledge, multi-year brewing processes... and Dawn shushing Zahira until it takes.

The fight in front is over quickly, as most fights are. Human bodies are frail. Not every injury is crippling, but few give the injured an advantage. A ruthless warrior is a competent warrior is a survivor; advantages are not squandered by those who mean to win and come back for another struggle. You follow the progress through sounds, as you cannot see it. The posturing ends. There's some further shouts, of people coordinating and being surprised. There's screams, and the stomach-turning noise of weapons striking bodies.

There's silence.

Then, a couple of seconds later, you hear a bright voice saying "Idiots. Quantity is not quality." Then it strikes up a whistle. That makes it all the easier to follow as it rounds the corner.

A young man, lips pursed in music-making, comes around the corner, not seeing you until he's perhaps eight or ten meters away, pressed up against the wall for cover as your group is. Samir lets fly an arrow at the moment of mutual sight. Surprise, and the fact that the other is already somewhat tired from his previous exertions, combine to give Samir the edge. The arrow strikes him in the lower rib cage, near the solar plexus. He gives a sharp whuff noise, but the arrow penetrates only slightly. There's some protection at work there.

You're on him next, thrusting your shield at his face to obscure your movements while your sword comes up in a slash. The man parries your blade as he gives ground, splitting attention somewhat between you and Kalju, who comes in with a thrust to support you.

"What's this? More Regency Council goons?" He seems still a little arrogant even at this second battle in quick succession. "Numbers mean nothing against me!" His weapon is a longer, straighter sword than your own, a bastard sword that could be used with one or two hands roughly as easily.

He looks past you, to see Zahira collecting potions as he brings his sword back up. He tsks. Wait, you're pressing him. How does he have time to collect himself? "Never mind. I am Egon, master of the Untouchable Blade. You will fall, like the others."

His counter-blow is slow, telegraphed, as it comes at you. It's just a simplistic slash, but without the brutal power or speed or readied follow-up combination that makes such an attack work. You can interpose your shield. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. You can't interpose your shield. There's no angle where your shield can meet that arc. You can parry. You can't parry. You can't see what angle his attack is coming from. It's right there, but you can't grasp it.

The only thing you can do is throw yourself backwards. You don't dodge completely. The sword catches your sword arm, a glancing blow across the top of your forearm. You flex your wrist experimentally. Not the worst. You can fight.

Egon steps lightly, spoiling Samir's next shot by keeping you and Kalju interposed. He can't completely negate the positioning advantage you have by outnumbering him, but he's doing his best. "You're a quick one, aren't you?" he says to you. "Most people who face that move don't manage to dodge before it strikes them down. Some reflexes on you."

"What sort of move is that?" Cold sweat covers your forehead. You've faced down magic and heroic techniques before, as part of your training, but nothing quite like that. It was almost an amateur move, but you couldn't even react properly to it.

Egon smiles, feints towards Kalju, can't get past the longer spear, and has to give up the attack when you threaten his exposed side. He gives ground. "Something you can't defend against."

Kalju goes on the offensive, swinging his spear through a waist-high arc. Egon blocks it, but he underestimated Kalju's strength, and it throws him off-balance and locks up his blade for one crucial moment. You have a clear shot across his side, and you take it. Your sword shudders in your hand as if you'd hit a solid tree stump, but you feel something crack.

"Damn it!" Egon gives ground again. It wasn't his body, but whatever magical protection he was warded with. He glances back and forth between you and Kalju, but his attention, and his physical stamina, have been pulled in too many directions. He wasn't as fresh as he thought coming against you three, and you had surprise. Samir puts another arrow into him, this one into his thigh.

Egon drops his sword as he sinks to one knee, unable to keep his feet with that injury. "Wait! I surrender!"

Your fight has taken you into the first room of the vault. Extra bodies have been added, three of the four of them clearly slain outright by a single slash each. Egon's technique is deadly, but it's weaker against a close-knit team. The fourth... you find yourself brought up short.

The fourth body isn't quite dead. It's a familiar face. Big eyes look out at you from behind blonde hair, and she's busy trying, and failing, to push herself to her feet by using her enormous sword as support. It's Ariel, who claimed to be grandmaster of the Bear's Mantle style. "Look out!" she squeaks. "Adara's equipped him with a bunch of magic items. He can walk through walls!"

His hand twitches slightly towards his fallen sword, but he doesn't grab it. It doesn't look like he's going to be walking through walls any time soon, but he might still have some fight in him.

Dawn and Zahira join you. Dawn steps up next to you, shield and mace ready. She's ready to join the fray if need be. Zahira, on the other hand, has all the potions you have collected, all in a bag and she looks a little overloaded by it. She's not a combat asset.

Egon glances towards Ariel, realizing for the first time that she's not with you as none of you seem ready to rush to her side. "You realize these no-name thieves have no reason to spare either of us, right?" He bites out the words, doing his best to maintain composure despite his poor situation. "We're a liability to them now."

Samir shrugs, fitting an arrow to his bowstring. "Kinda."

Ariel looks at you, groans, and slides all the way to the floor.

You have the upper hand right now. Egon is down, but he's not dead and will doubtless make his way out if you give him enough of a chance. Ariel, however, is doing poorly. She won't survive without some of Askeplian's Staff. It wouldn't be a full potion, or even half, but it would be a measurable drain on a resource that, right now, is quite literally irreplaceable.

You have to think ahead to know what to do here.

[] Leave them to their fates. You have what you came for.
[] Strike both down. Your potions are all the more valuable if the vault is, apparently, still deadly and impenetrable.
[] Heal Ariel. You can't hope to avoid the Regency Council afterward, but you have both a debt and a bargaining chip if you do.
- [] ...and strike down Egon.
[] Introduce yourselves to Egon. You understand Lady Adara has been gathering the remnants of the priesthoods?
- [] ...and heal Ariel.

- -

Hopefully the options here cover your possibilities well. If one of the options with a sub-vote wins, the sub-vote will happen or not based on if at least half of those votes have the sub-vote.