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Having half suspected that Daedalus soul was here, you stride past the great white washed walls that surround the tower and walk through it's wide open halls, when you're confronted by a huge ogrekan armored in chain mail who nods his head for you to follow him.
With unease filling your bones at being escorted, you travel through halls adorned with bronze statues, paintings of distant lands, and hundreds of banners, some of which you recognise from your time among the Wingdarts. The dark mages acting much like the Redling Kingdoms of old, conquering lands long since forgotten.
The farther you go in, the more excited Daedalus becomes, your feet taking you past a labyrinth of darkened hallways, and chambers, a part of unable to feel a touch of impatience yourself at the many delays you've faced. The visions of the Bloodstorm playing on you mind.
When you at last you reach the end of your journey, you find yourself in a immense hall, the ceiling hidden in shadow with thick black columns etched in runes. The Magelords seated in ornate stone chairs arrayed in a half circle, the backs of the chairs draped in the colors of their factions, their symbols engraved into the stone behind them.
Wearing robes of deepest midnight, cowls pulled forward to hide their scarred withered faces, you feel their eyes upon you, the silence dragging for an eternity, when at last the mage sitting in the center begins to speak, his words repeated by the others. "Eattrange hozhee hat.Eattrange hozhee hat.Eattrange hozhee hat.Eattrange hozhee hat."
Feet already moving, you spin around and run for the columns, Daedalus cry of warning urging you on as you throw yourself forward into safety, balls of black fire blazing from behind you, snatching back the ogrekan guard who screams in agony as he slowly died.
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In the silence that slowly returned, you hear the shuffling of footsteps, and a dry voice call out to you. "You were clever enough to find your way here, but even our most feeblest of mages could sense there was something wrong with you. You should have turned back when you had the chance, but now I fear you must die. Unless, you're willing to betray your mistress and divulge her plans to us. Tell us why she sent you are here, and we may yet spare your life."
Eyes darting back the way you've come, you consider the Magelords offer, after all what real choices did you have. Attack Magelords who've spent their whole lives practicing magic? Flee back through the corridor which remains suspiciously empty despite the dark mages having an army of slaves, battlemages, and Shadow Hunters at their disposal? Risk Sarsonel's wrath by spilling all of her secrets. Or you could just lie, and tell them half truths in an effort to keep your skin, though there was a high chance they'd kill you anyway. There was also a side tunnel you could take, but again that could also be a trap. All in all, none of the choices were very appealing.
5. Do you flee back the way you've come?
Disliking the idea of going toe to toe with the Magelords, you race back the way you've come when hundreds of armored warriors in pale yellow robes burst in from the opposing end of the hallway. The battlemages advancing forward in solid ranks of steel, glowing shields raised before them, and magical blades shooting firebolts at you, forcing you back the way you've come, where you are pelted with magic by the Magelords.
With no where else to go, you head towards the side tunnel, when Daedalus calls out to you that the treasure you seek was nearby.
Galvanized by his words, you hurry along the short passageway and eventually reach a high ceilinged vault filled to the brim with mounds upon mounds of treasure, and at its center a pedestal with a golden chest sitting on top.
Battlefield Results
-120 Health points, Magical Damage.
Loot
None