Throwback Post - Ra'ziir Gets a Heart

This scene takes place in the Elephant Tower in the City of Shadizar on the world of Hyboria.  To say that it strays from the canon tale written by Howard would be an understatement but I had recently learned about the Half-Elemental template and wanted to introduce it to the group so I made some changes.

Ra’ziir enters the room. He rests the tip of his fiery sword upon the polished ivory floor and watches the suffering of the beast. The bladesinger’s brow furrows as he tries to recall his studies at the Guild of the Lion’s training hall in Evereska. Despite his training, the elf is unable to recall any outsider that precisely matches the appearance of this pitiful wreck of a creature. Its body resembles that of a Marut, an Inevitable from the Plane of Mechanus – a powerful being who seeks to collect the souls of those who try to cheat death but its head looks like it belongs on a Loxo, a race of pachyderm-headed minotaurs who live in the southern reaches of Faerûn.


Malazzarr gazes upon the broken creature, saddened by the plight of any being that would beg for the release of death. He turns sweeping his enchanted vision across the room, searching for signs of the sorcerer-priest but finds none. The archmage finally focuses upon the two spikes that hold the creature to its throne. There seems to be two different fields of magic surrounding the spikes. Both auras give the former god the impression of transmutation magic. Through the mindlink, he asks his companions “Should we attempt to slay this creature while it is restrained, or free it in hopes that it will turn on Yara…or perhaps, it will turn on us? It is against my nature to harm a restrained enemy, but for the safety of others I might reconsider.  As for Yara, how do we draw him out of hiding? I’m sure he would not approve of the release of his hostage.”

Through the mindlink, Malazzarr whispers a warning to Ra’ziir and Shadow, warning them that this prisoner may not be a prisoner at all, but Yara in disguise. The archmage speaks to the impaled creature “What manner of restraints bind you? What is your purpose, Creature? Now be your only chance for freedom. Do not attempt to deceive us, as only the truth will set you free.” Malazzarr reaches into a fold of his robe, drawing forth a Rod of Negation, a magical device with the power to dispel even the most potent magic. 

Ra’ziir hears Mal’s thoughts and speaks aloud to the trapped beast “Who are you and why have you been imprisoned here?”  Ra’ziir steps forward, his flaming sword held ready to strike down the pathetic, crippled beast. The bladesinger speaks “I suggest you be forthright in answering…and do so quickly for my patience wavers.”

The elephant-headed being speaks “Who is there? You have not the cruelty of Yara’s hateful voice, please, come closer and kill me. I beg of you, end my torment!” The voice, while pained, is male and he extends his trunk upward and out like a blind man trying to feel his way in the darkness.

With a heaving sigh, the bound creature speaks “I am Yag-Kosha and I have no purpose here other than that of slave to Yara. He pent me in this tower, which at his command I built for him in a single night. By fire, rack and strange unearthly tortures you would not understand, he mastered me. In agony, I would long ago have taken my own life, if I could. But he kept me alive – mangled, blinded and broken – to do his foul bidding. And for three hundred years I have done so, from this marble couch, blackening my soul with cosmic sins, and staining my wisdom with crimes, because I had no other choice. Yet not all my ancient secrets has he wrested from me, and my last gift shall be the sorcery of the Blood and the Jewel. Vow upon your life to kill me and use my gift to slay the cruel spider-priest, and I shall give this gift to you.” 

Ra'ziir, standing before Yag-Kosha, tilts his head as if to ponder the creatures offer for a second.  "Done. I swear it. If this be your decision, I will grant you your wish, and destroy the spider-priest... Now, what is this Sorcery of the Blood and Jewel you speak of? And how will it help me?"

Malazzarr levels the gray metal rod at the imprisoned being. With a sharp command, a gray beam lances out from the end of the device, washing over the sparkling silver spikes. Motes of light briefly dance around the spikes before they lose their luster and fade to the color of plain steel. 

Shadow and Chronosaj both remain wary as the magic fades from the spikes, ready to attack if Yag-Kosha tries to betray the hesitant trust of Ra'ziir and Malazzarr. But, despite Malazzarr's use of the Rod of Negation on the spikes pinning his arms in place, Yag-Kosha makes no move to escape. Using his trunk like a third hand, he beckons Ra'ziir forward and speaks softly. "I must touch you to know if you are worthy of trust, though I suspect even the foulest of men are more saintly than the foul devil who has bound me here." Yag-Kosha's trunk brushes across the elf's brow and temples, trailing gently down to the bladesinger's heart. The empty eye sockets close and the strange beast whispers while conducting his inspection. His head tilts slightly to one side, as if listening to voices only he can hear for several seconds. 

Yag-Kosha's eyes open and he speaks once more. "You are worthy, but I sense great turmoil within you. I feel the end of my time drawing near. You are the Hand of Fate. I beg of you, take the gem you will find on yonder altar." With his trunk, Yag-Kosha indicates the great gem you noticed when you entered the room. "Yara cannot die whilst I live and I fear that you lack the power to slay him in my stead. Take up the stone and stand before me." Yag-Kosha taps the center of his chest with the end of his trunk and continues. "Take your sword, and cut out my heart; then squeeze it so that the blood will flow over the stone. Then press the stone to your breast or the breast of your champion. The stone will become one with you and bequeath what portion of my power remains free of Yara's soul-fouling corruption. Be swift, for it shall not take Yara long to learn of my death. Once you slay the sorcerer, get yourself clear of this tower quickly, for the enchantments that sustain it will not last long following the death of its master. Strike now, let your blade be true and in ending my misery, grant me my revenge!"

Ra’ziir nods and says “Your sacrifice shall be honored, Yag-Kosha.” With that the bladesinger wills the flames on Fire Blossom to fade away and takes a deep breath. He steps up and places the tip of his blade against the pachyderm’s chest and with both hands on the hilt of the sword, thrusts. Thick, gray flesh parts as the sword’s tip slices through skin and wasted muscle. Blood spurts in great gouts from the wound and Fire Blossom strikes bone. Yag-Kosha’s screams fill the room, a strident trumpeting that shakes the rafters of the world. The elf twists the blade, slicing open a swath of flesh and reaches into the gaping wound with one hand. The iron smell of Yag-Kosha’s warm salty blood fills the air. Ra’ziir reaches into the gaping wound, slipping his hand under the sternum and grasps the throbbing organ. 

Ra’ziir pulls down and away, arteries and veins tear free of their moorings sending more blood fountaining into the air. Finally the screams die away and Ra’ziir stands before the cooling corpse of the last Elephant-Being of the Planet Yag; a creature who traveled across the universe on powerful wings, faster than the speed of light, a being who watched man evolve from monkey to build the legendary civilization of Atlantis and saw it fall into the depravity from which it rose, an entity whose lifespan was measured by birth and death of suns.

Ra’ziir turns and walks across the room, the blood from Yag-Kosha’s still beating heart drips in wet heavy “plops” onto the carpet covering the polished jade floor. The bladesinger reaches the gold and ivory altar and stares at the fist-sized, multi-faceted crystal. The elf holds forth the heart and slowly squeezes it. Blood seeps between his fingers onto the massive gem. As the drops fall onto the stone, smoke rising as each new drop runs down the sides of the jewel. The stone begins to glow with an eldritch light and the blood is drawn into the gem, turning it red. When the last of the blood has been wrung from the heart, Ra’ziir sets it gently upon the altar and takes up the gemstone and presses it to his chest. 

Creeping tendrils, made from seemingly living crystal sprout from the diamond and burrow into the elf’s chest.  It is Ra’ziir’s turn to scream as the shoots dig deeper, crawling beneath his skin. He can feel the cold crystal growing warmer as its roots wrap around his heart and begin to draw it forth. The gold flesh parts along the scar given to him in a fatal battle with fire giants atop a lonely tower over a decade ago and a world away. The fist-sized crystal slides into the gaping hole, nestling in the hollow space left behind by his missing heart. More crystal roots branch from the gem, grafting themselves onto the arteries and veins and the stone begins to pulse with a slow and steady rhythm. The scar closes over and Ra’ziir collapses onto the floor, gasping for breath.

Th-Thud, Th-Thud, Th-Thud, Th-Thud, Th-Thud, Th-Thud, Th-Thud, TH-THud, TH-THUd, TH-THUD, TH-THUD, TH-THUD, TH-THUD, TH-THUD, TH-THUD, TH-THUD, TH-THUD, TH-THUD….

Ra’ziir can feel the diamond crystal begin to pulse within his chest as it takes over the pumping of blood through his body. Strong and steady, the stone expands and contracts with a smooth rhythm. All fatigue the elf has been feeling from the long march to Zamora from Aquilonia and the mental strain that has prevented rest during the Reverie are washed away.

The bladesinger’s breathing grows easier and, with some help from Shadow, he rises to his feet. A sense of righteousness buds in the back of his mind, the ability to strike down those who would do evil for the sake of their own advancement or pleasure stands ready within him, waiting to be unleashed. Magic rises unbidden to his mind, spells that require no words or actions to perform. Yag-Kosha’s departing soul speaks to the elf, telling him what his newfound powers are before fading into the ethereal plane and then passing on to whatever awaits him in the afterlife. The elephant-being’s last words as his spirit fades are “Avenge me, kill Yara.”

Malazzarr cautiously approaches Ra'ziir, and kneels next to his collapsed comrade. The old wizard checks the elf for signs of life speaking via mindlink and aloud "Ra'ziir are you still with us? Do you require healing?"

Shadow flies down and helps Raz to his feet. "You OK my friend?" After which he pauses and adds "You know if you are found dead in a whore house I am cutting that stone out of you and throwing you a party so loud and wild you will hear it in the Afterlife!" He stares into his friend's eyes to see if the act has replaced him with Yara's soul or the Elephant's man..."You know I am serious...that was some trippy shit by the way Raz, cutting that heart out and all.  Sure there isn't a Drow in the woodshed? " he says with a smirk.

Ra'ziir, coming back to his senses, is filled with purpose. The power of the crystal compels the Elf to seek out the Spider-Priest here in his tower. A burning desire to destroy Yara fills Ra'ziir's every fiber. As he looks to each of his comrades around him, they see something different in his eyes. Previously, that "something" had seemed only to be a small bit of calculated chaos. Now, those looking upon the Elf notice that same maniacal gleam in the Bladesinger's lavender eyes, but now it is fueled by vengeance.

The Elf's eyes roll slightly backward in his skull as his lids close. White-knuckling his grip on Fire Blossom, the Elf tilts his head back, teeth clenched, eyes squeezed shut. A blood curdling cry emits from the pale, gore-covered, black leather-clad figure. "Yaaaaaaarrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaa!!!!” The scream echoes through the hall, seemingly reverberating off the steel walls of the tower.



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