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Ehren settles down once they reach the scorpion den, having covered their tracks to the best of his ability. Still harrowed by their battle with Caggrigar, he pays the treasure no mind, find a spot to sit that isn't completely littered with bones. He wordlessly unstraps his ruined armor, calling upon his orison to mend the breach.
Ehren spends the next 40 minutes in the evening mending his hide armor, while the unattended mercenaries begin to stir on the ground nearby, groaning. Orlovski awakens with a start, rubbing his bruised and aching back from where he spent the last hour being dragged on the ground across the Worldwound. He stands, slowly, enchanting a ring on his finger with light to better see around him.
"Where is this?"
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"We're in the den of a giant scorpion that we killed and transformed into an undead soldier to help us kill your boss." Val pointedly avoids saying that they in-fact failed to take down the cultist.
The enormous woman groans, pulling herself up to a sitting position, then squatting on the ground. She fingers the straps on her armor, a look of astonishment on her face.
Orlovski continues to do the talking, though.
"...Caggrigar? You've killed him?" He scowls. "Great. Just great. So this was all for nothing..."
"So... you haven't restrained us in any way. Are we free to leave, then?"
"That depends," Val says. "We don't really have a reason to kill you. You're tengu friend already told us that you're mercenaries. Assuming he was telling the truth, you were just doing your jobs. Of course, it's also not my call. I'm also not a crusader. I'm a traveler helping out. So it's up to the crusaders to decide whether being hired on by a cultist is grounds for being imprisoned or worse."
Ehren is able to successfully conjure clean water within the Worldwound for them to drink. Ary is currently carrying 23 lbs of food. It's a two day walk to Gundrun. Is the group going to offer food to the two mercenaries?
"Alright..." Orlovski glances at Ary, expectantly - as she is wearing a tabard of the Crusades, she is the most visible crusader in the group. "No offense, but I'd like to head back to Gundrun as soon as possible."
"Never thought I'd hear you say that," chortles the woman next to him.
"Well... now that we know he's a cultist, that complicates things. I don't think you'd -want- to go free in the middle of the Worldwound without your things, anyway. It's not for me to decide whether you're free to go or not, either." she adds.
"It'd be best for everyone if you came back to one of the nearby cities, and they can debrief you - and determine if you're really dangerous, or just pompous. Why the hell is an Orlovski working for some deadbeat cultist in the Wound, anyway?"
"Gundrun will work," she finishes, digging through her pack for a bit of trail rations to hand off to each person present. She digs out the tainted ration and tosses it into the back of the cave.
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"That and why exactly did he need your help? We didn't exactly have time to talk with him while we were busy trying to tear each other apart. I don't suppose he told the help what he was planning with the prophecy he was after."
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Orlovski looks skeptical at first, then plops himself down onto the ground next to the Ulfen woman and accepts Ary's offer of food without thanks.
"Hmph. He said he was a Pathfinder agent, and my family wishes for me to join the Pathfinder Society...after using my gods-given magical gifts on one too many serving maids... and some noble peers... and perhaps at least one enemy... I was shipped to Absalom for a "corrective" stint with the Grand Lodge. But I found the Confirmation... wanting... they'd ignore even my most convincing arguments and so I am forced to seek... other means of membership."
He scoffs. "Caggrigar was a poor liar. I caught a peek at that damned tattoo he has on the second day. But the gold he was offering was too much to pass up. And I thought, how bad could it be?" He eyes the skeletal remains that surround them with disgust. "Really bad, apparently."
The woman beside him doesn't talk, stuffing her face with dried jerky with relish. "This one is named Embla, by the way. Or she'll respond to oaf, or brute, or what have you."
"Never understand that. Given the choice between a group that wants to better the world, and a group that wants to rip out your stomach and wear it as a shawl - with no preference for even telling you the truth, mind - you'd think people would realize that money and power weren't the things to be worried about." she says, shaking her head as she continues to eat the bits of her rations she still had.
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Isilme briefly looks at the gems, admiring their beauty, and then places them in her pouch for safe keeping. She then carefully stores the scrolls and offers the dagger, silver, copper and gold pieces to Ary, and the potion to Valaria.
Isilme listens to the back and forth between Val, Ary and Orlovski, trying to get a feel for if he's being forthright. She rolls her eyes as he explains that the gold was just too good to allow Caggrigar's affiliation to interfere with hiring on. "Ary is right, to describe your behavior as short-sighted is fair. But all mortals make mistakes, that is just the way of the world. You should think long and hard about what you want on the journey back." She takes a bite of her rations then continues, "You are a talented mage, Orlovski, without a doubt. You were able to beat me at my own game. That does not happen often. You and your companion Embla should offer your services when we return, along with your cooperation. Work for those who want a world in which there will be maids for dalliances instead of demonic overlords. You need not become knight of Iomedae to prefer this world over a copy of the Abyss. Perhaps the mistakes of the past will be more easily overlooked as well." As she finishes she returns to her rations, her hunger returning with a vengeance after the ordeals of the day.
Orlovski scoffs. "Your opinion of yourself is much too high, aasimar. You were an easy mark, like any other."
He sniffs. "Thanks for your concern, but I'm pretty good at getting myself out of trouble. Embla on the other hand... yeah she's gonna join the Condemned for sure. I mean look at her."
Embla grunts. "Don't matter to me."
"Why the hell do you work for him anyway?" Val asks the woman. "I mean seriously, he treats you like sh*t and isn't the slightest bit concerned with you going into the penal legion."
"Funny coming from a member of a household with an Aasimar Patriarch. Doubly so considering your failure at our hands." she says with chuckle.
"Hmmph. Dunno. He's as good as any other noble møgunge out there," she grunts. She lifts the horned helmet off of her head, revealing a shaggy mess of blonde hair, and a face that is partially covered in horrific scars. "He hired me in Oppara and he pays well enough. Been followin' him ever since."
"Jeg er flydende i Skald, so," snaps Orlovski, ignoring Isilme outright. Embla just smirks, stripping herself free of her armor, and lays back down on the ripped curtain she was dragged here on, facing the entrance. She closes her eyes.
"Wake me up when we're movin'."
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"I really, really doubt that," Val says, glaring at the snobby noble. "If he was that good, he'd actually care about you. Nobility isn't about having privilege to do what you want. It's about the responsibility to the people your status puts you in charge of. Bad ones abuse their position. Good ones realize that they have responsibilities and try their best to fulfill them."
No longer weighted down by mercenary scum, Ary doesn't mind carrying the silver and copper.
This time, it's her turn to simply sit and listen. "Who would like to sit up through the night tonight?" she asks, offering the question to the others.
Embla opens one icy blue eye to peer at Valaria. She must have been beautiful, once.
"Well if you know of any such goody goody nobles with a job offer, let me know."
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"I'll keep that in mind." she nods to Embla.
"That wasn't directed at you," Val says, glaring at Orlavski. "You took what job you could. I wondered why you kept it, and you just told me. No one else took you on. But he should know better. He clearly doesn't, but he should. Nobles are supposed to actually be noble after all." She walks over to one wall and sits down. "Wake me up if something happens. Or if the you know what tries anything."
"I can start," Isilme offers, not exactly interested in sleeping yet. Though she needed it now, and had grown fond of the dreams she'd begun having since her 'meeting' with Starsong, she still missed being able to go without. Instead she'd keep her watch and then maybe spend some time afterwards jotting down her thoughts on the day.
She switches positions so she can clearly watch both the entrance and the two captives, placing her rapier at her side on the ground. She also takes a moment to fish out her jourrnal, carefully setting it aside along with her ink and quill for when she gets a chance later.
Ary ends up standing guard by the cave entrance, her face illuminated by Radiance's golden light. Outside the bleak, gritty duff extends for miles and miles, the thirsty ground glowing eerily from molten rivulets far below the surface. Cold, and silent, the sky is hazy with black fog.
The night is still young, but the heroes are exhausted. Eventually all but Isilme, Hinagiku and Ary are asleep.
The night proceeds without incident - both Hinagiku and Isilme are up at various times of the night to keep Ary company as she keeps watch over her squad, assisted by the blessing of the Inheritor herself.
The heroes ford the Sarkora river then cross the Riftshadow to Gundrun, using the Silverscale River to guide them. The desolate wasteland gives to way to a sickly looking forest and marshland, even the grass left an ashen grey. On the second day the group is forced to camp in the open, and Ehren's attempts to conjure water yield a disgusting, frothy liquid filled with maggots... but thankfully Ary brought water in canteens as well.
The final day there is not enough food to go around, but Gundrun is close enough that they are able to simply press on.
9th of Rova 4713
The heroes finally arrive in eyesight of Gundrun in the very early morning in the midst of a horrible storm. Black storm clouds blot out the sun, and sheets of rain pummel the group as they approach, walking through a path dotted with the weather-worn standing stones of old Gundrun's deities, monuments to Gorum, Gozreh, Pulura, Torag, Urgathoa, and Vard Rockgrinder being the largest and most elaborate. More than a hundred carved logs, metal markers, and etched stones lean amid the ancient monoliths, memorials to the innumerable deities of lost Sarkoris-- many long forgotten.
They press on through the pouring rain into Gundrun proper - a small town with a ruined clanhold on a hill overlooking its entirety. The town is a rough community of constructed ramshackle homes, somewhere between a military encampment, a refugee camp, and a barter-town built upon the corpse of a Sarkorian fishing village. Orlovski and Embla have been here before and they navigate the group in the direction of the town's only inn, located across from a stable. The building is half-collapsed, the ragged remains of its upper floor shored up with crude repairs. Above the entrance hangs a rack of antlers, now broken to stubs and covered in blue-gray mold.
Possibly because the weather outside is so terrible, the inn is booming with business. The tavern smells of wood smoke, roast boar, sweet beer, spiced mead, and sweat. At the heroes' appearance, the chatter of the common room subsides except for the strains of a harp and a husky female voice trailing off in her song. The residents of the tavern look up as the group enters.
They are predominantly Kellids, a wind-burned people with dark hair and the eyes the color of clear skies and old steel. They wore furs cinched with leather harnesses, although a few of the men went bare-chested to show off tattoos or war paint. The women are equally formidable: tall, lean, and muscular. None sat more than an arm's length away from a dagger on the table or an axe leaning against the wall.
The silence is interrupted by a familiar, squeaky voice - Nurah Dendiwhar excitedly hops down from a stool to trot towards the heroes. Though Ser Jorsal is absent, she is accompanied by a group of crusaders wearing a distinctive tabard bearing a pair of twin swords beneath a silver cane... one that most of the group recognizes as Hrut Ingvarson!
"Ah, Captain Bishop! We've been expecting you!" Nurah is so excited, she can barely contain it. She hurriedly digs into her knapsack for quill and paper, dropping several loose sheets of parchment carelessly to the ground as she does so. "So...so... out with it! How did it go?" The halfling grins, broadly.
Hrut smirks and slaps Ary on the shoulder playfully. "Captain Bishop, eh? It suits you."
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Seeing Hrut, Val waves in his direction. Her body still feels distinctly... wrong. Even after days of travel, her body still aches and she feels subtly ill.
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As the night slowly passes by, Isilme eventually lets Ary take over the watch completely and turns her attention to her journal. She spends a good while writing in it, setting down the day's events simply for the pleasure of it. Finally setting down her quill and closing her ink well, she spends a while looking at the journal entry, lost in thought. "I wonder if the students are doing alright back in Defender's Heart? Perhaps Ai'Sintar had something interesting to teach them today. Maybe he'll have gotten his script down enough to memorize some simple spells when I see him next." she laughs and smiles to herself, picturing a smile on his face from regaining some of his independence. She catches herself, looking around briefly before closing the journal and laying down to sleep. Before long she drifts off into dreams, soaring the skies of her home once more.
We disembarked from the boat, a long day’s journey ahead of us. Sitting here writing and looking back over the day’s events, I am amazed we pulled through alright. We accomplished little of what we set out to do, having recovered neither the prophecy nor Illayna, but we are all alive as I write this, and have taken two prisoners of questionable value. Still it would be wrong to leave them to their deaths here I suppose, so join us they will.
The day began with disembarkation from the boat, and a long trudge over the bleak landscape of the worldwound. The terrain continues to demonstrate its abyssal nature, demonstrating time and time again the chaotic nature of the realm it is slowly coming to emulate. It is strange to think about it, for in many ways it parallels my home. The very land here seems to revel in tormenting those who dare tread it, however, whereas in Elysium the chaotic nature was more an ever shifting palette used to paint the lands. Much like demons themselves are a twisted mockery of free will I suppose.
The sky rained locusts, frozen and dead. I am unsure if this was an improvement over the rain of teeth we’d previously encountered. We dodged elemental geysers erupting from the ground, and barely escaped from quicksand which we had become mired in amidst a storm of ash and cinders. We fled that quagmire just in time to escape a tornado which was bearing down on us, fleeing blindly into a barrow of some sort. Luckily for us we found Illayna within instead of some demonic horror or another. The Eagle Knight was there barely alive, laid down within. She’d eaten tainted food likely, and was clearly affected by some malady or another. We suspected possession at first, but could not prove anything conclusively. Initially we took her weapon and helped her up so she could join us on the journey to retrieve the prophecy.
We travelled further across that barren landscape, the rivers and ashen mire eventually giving way to a cracked, burning terrain. Lava played the role of the river here, complete with falls and the necessity to ford it. In the distance, Storasta had become visible, so we became more wary of our surroundings. As we prepared to ferry the group over the river one at a time using flight, we spotted a pair of Nabasus circling overhead. Terrible creatures who delight in consuming the souls of the living. Had we been caught unawares, it is likely one or more of us might have died to their magics and soul draining. Thankfully Markus had thought to purchase scrolls of invisibility sphere before we set off, and we were able to make use of one of them to hide us from the demons. Safe from being spotted, we headed a considerable ways down the lava flow before attempting to ford again unseen.
The remainder of the trip to the building was uneventful, with the exception that it wasn’t unoccupied when we arrived. Instead, within, we found several mercenaries: A mage, Orlovski and his bodyguard, an Ulfen woman Embla, both of whom we have in custody now, and a rather dangerous Tengu monk who seemed to know Hinagiku. I attempted to talk our way in, and was doing a rather effective job of it, managing to keep both Embla and Orlovski focused on my talking instead of thinking. His mind, however was quite resilient, and he refused to spill anything he knew about the prophecy. Unfortunately, when I released the two of them from the fascination, he was able to use an enchantment upon me to get me to let my guard down. It is frustrating and more than a little bit embarrassing to admit that I fell prey to such a trivial spell, but he was able to get me to admit I was lying. Unfortunately before I could attempt to smooth things over, Ary volunteered that we were Crusaders. She’s a wonderful person, and I can see why Li’an would have been close to her, but she is too forthright at times. I suppose that’s befitting a follower of Iomedae chosen to wield Radiance, however.
That revelation essentially ended the discussion and began a battle. They would’ve been little challenge for us were the Tengu monk not frighteningly competent. He managed to disarm Ary of Radiance and seeing that the fight would eventually turn against him, flee with it. It’s only due to Val and Ehren’s quick thinking that we were able to recover the weapon at all, as they chased him down. They returned with the blade, though they left him to flee on his own. Hinagiku seemed distressed that he’d not returned with them. I hope he fares well on his own attempting to flee the worldwound, but it does not bode well for him.
We eventually defeated the other two, and after a brief search, managed to find the tunnel their employer had fled through, apparently with the prophecy already in tow. We followed the tunnel, Hinagiku in the lead, to its exit. It was a long trek, and when we reached the end, Hinagiku had barely set foot outside before she was snatched up by a giant scorpion. We barely managed to save her from its clutches before it killed her, the combined assaults of our group whittling it down until it collapsed. I made an attempt to free Hinagiku myself via magic, but had little luck freeing her from its grasp. With it dead, we managed to get Hinagiku healed up, and Markus was able to use his magic to reanimate the creature to accompany us. It is most lucky he did, as if he hadn’t, we might have died in our subsequent encounter with Orlovski’s employer, Caggrigar.
We continued on his trail for a while, and when we encountered him he wasted no time preparing himself for combat against us. Little did we know he was a rather potent spellcaster. He was able to summon three Babaus to his aid, and locked down almost the entire group using tentacles conjured from the ground. Mr. Pinchy was thankfully able to nearly destroy two of the Babaus alone before he was taken out, and with a bit of finagling, I was able to keep Markus alive by getting him Orlovski’s wand of false life, as the tentacles were slowly crushing us to death.
Ary and Ehren did their best to clean up, and eventually Val escaped to aid them, preventing Caggrigar from casting, and managing to get him on the defensive. Nevertheless, he still managed to control the fight the entire time.
While I was trapped I recalled something… music I’d heard once before a song from home speaking to the freedoms the denizens of Elysium enjoy. I knew it was what we needed, but I could not convey the feeling, not yet anyway. I need to think more on it, perhaps something different is needed. Not words, I realize now they cannot convey the sentiment properly.
Anyway, things got worse before they got better, with Caggrigar calling forth webs and a swarm, nearly managing to kill Ehren in the process. In the end Caggrigar fled, invoking Deskari’s power to aid him. So in the end we are without a prophecy, and to make matters worse, somehow during the fight Illayna disappeared without a trace. Perhaps our initial guess was right, though we may never know what exactly became of her.
Exhausted and out of resources, we’ve managed to find our way back to the scorpion’s lair. We’ll hole up here for the night with our two semi-captives and hopefully begin our journey back tomorrow. Hopefully the return trip will be significantly less eventful than the trip here. A not insignificant portion of me wishes I were back in Defender’s Heart or at least returning there.
Isilme is relieved that the next few days pass quickly and relatively uneventfully, despite their issues with supplies towards the end. As they enter town, she recalls the history of Gundrun for the others. "When the Sarkorians fled the invasion, they followed the Silverscale river here to Gundrun, overwhelming the town completely," she explains. "With the taint from the worldwound the town eventually collapsed and was abandoned, only gaining life again during the third crusade. It was then Clan Clefthorn took it upon themselves to reclaim the town from the demons. The price was heavy, whittling down the once great clan, but in the end successful. Slowly they rebuilt it, and it seems to have survived in the intervening years, even if it is still poor."
In the inn, she surveys the Kellid occupants, but doesn't otherwise engage them. Instead she turns her attention to Nurah and Hrut as they approach. "Hrut, it is good to see you again. I hope you have been well," she says with a friendly smile. "It is good to see you as well again Nurah," she adds, though she allows Ary to recount the situation to her.
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The journey is rough and Markus doesn't really acknowledge the mercenaries when they wake the first time. Later on, as they close on Gundrun, he approaches the Ulfen woman.
"You said to let you know if you know any goody-goody nobles hiring you on, right? he asks. He looks the Ulfen woman openly. "Well, how much is the Orlovski man paying you?"
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"Illayna, she's following you around and ruining your dreams. But you can't see her."
And that's all he'll say on the matter.
"'bout 3 gold pieces per day, more if there's killin' to be done."
"Gee, boss, you look tired. Bad dreams, lately?" The bound horror is simply in glee, relishing the idea of his ward suffering.
"Y'know, you're terribly uncreative with what you ask of me. Would you like to see her? Illayna. I can do that. Do you want me to?"
Hrut's smile wavers for a moment when he regards Isilme... then... "Oh! The celestial. You've dyed Li'an's hair..." He stiffens for a moment, recalling that day. If only he were a little faster... maybe...
But it's only for a moment before he's back to his normal self. "It is good to see you too!"
Meanwhile, the bar around you starts to settle down as its patrons go back to their conversations. So close to the Worldwound, one naturally expects to see a few of the demonblooded, but here they constitute nearly half of the patrons. Some of the heroes may be surprised to see that they mingle casually with untainted humans - here in Worldwound, demonic blood is the least of your worries. One man with enormous compound insect eyes might have been fully half demon.
Nurah ushers the heroes to a table, and the Empyreal Guardians help pull up seats. "Ah, please, call for the barkeep! We need more food and drink over here!" she chirps.
Isilme herself stiffens slightly when Hrut reminds her she's just inhabiting Li'an's body. It had been a while since anyone had brought it up, so it was jarring to hear him say she'd dyed Li'an's hair. Still she knew he meant well, even if his choice of words was tactless as always. "Please, call me Isilme, Hrut. I'm hardly a celestial any longer," she says doing her best to give a friendly smile.
She sits down immediately when she gets a chance and grabs a chunk of the first loaf of bread they bring, devouring it quickly and washing it down with a bit of mead. "Truly wonderful to be back with normal food and no worries about tainted rations," she says to the others as she grabs some more bread while waiting for some of the roast boar she'd smelled when they entered.
"Hmmmm.... well, first you need to get me outta being arrested. Then, I'm all ears, mage."
"Heeheehee. I have to... help you. And I can't hurt you. Or your little friends. (Directly.) And I can't use my... capabilities. Without a direct order. But if it's proof you want, mistress.."
Valaria feels a small claw graze against her cheek, the muttered incantation barely audible over the roar of the bar, and suddenly she can see....
A hideous crone lurks in the corner, invisible to all in the bar but you... Grisly fetishes and the rags of once fine clothes hang off the corpse-thin frame of the horrifying, sharp-fanged crone. She notices Valaria staring at her and grins.
The bound horror flits about your head, also invisible to the patrons of the bar.
"Ooooh. There she is!"
The one-armed proprietor emerged from behind the bar to greet Nurah's guests. Spotting Valaria, he grins and makes a fair approximation of a Chelish bow - like the other patrons, he hardly bats an eye at her distinctive appearance. The exaggerated motion evokes chuckles from the Kellids. "Welcome to my humble establishment, crusaders. My name is Whalt, and I'm at your service. One word of caution: even one-handed, I can still out-pour and outdrink any barkeep in Sarkoris..."
Some of the tavern patrons laugh gamely at his remark, but for the other's benefit, the harper called out the obvious punch line: "That's because you're the only barkeep in Sarkoris!"
Whalt grins, exposing large, yellowed teeth. A wreath of gray-white hair surrounds his spotted pate, and his blue-grey eyes are keen and friendly. On the wall behind the bar is a sundered shield, a semicircular absence suggesting that a large fiend had bitten through its steel-reinforced wood. The bite mark matches the point at which Whalt's arm had been severed.
Seeing the situation as it was, and having a few pounds of copper and silver in her pack, Ary immediately ruins the break from revelry by calling out "Drink for everyone!" which should return the tavern to not being quite so... sullen at their appearance. "To old friends!" she calls as she spots Hrut amongst the crowd across the room. She nods to him, "I see you've been more officially inducted, then?"
"Make that two for Hrut." she says as the barkeep arrives. "Bad day with a swamp demon?" she asks nodding her head towards his arm. She's clearly avoiding the subject, for now - both of them - but after a moment, she sighs.
"Failed -- Mostly. Psychotic cultist with the ability to fly, and the unnatural darkness of the Worldwound tends to wreck one's ability to knock them out of the sky."
"You survived a battle with a Hezrou? Quite an impressive feat," Isilme says, gathering that the displayed shield and his willingness to joke at his one-handed status meant he was likely to take pride in having done so. "Would you care to share that story? I consider myself a collector of stories, and I simply cannot let an opportunity like this pass me by!" she says with a wink and a grin at Whalt.
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And that’s the point where the demon started whispering in my ear.
I was… unhappy to say the least. I decided not to say anything about the mysterious Abyssal whispers in my ears. Perhaps years of nightmares insulated me against temptation. Or maybe I’m just a stubborn fool. He claimed to be a representative of my grandmother and I… hesitated. I panicked at the thought that he might actually be telling the truth. Or that my friends might learn it. Either way, the little voice was thoroughly amused by her presence and insisted that she was in some way corrupted or evil. Ehren seemed to detect the Worldwound’s taint on her, but she didn’t behave oddly in any real way. I tried to keep an eye on her while we went and hung onto her weapon just in case, but she was cooperative for the most part. Nothing seemed amiss, so we brought her with us as we headed toward Storasta. That might have been a bit of a bad idea.
The approach to the city was interrupted by a river of magma and a flock of vrock demons. Have I mentioned that I have the Worldwound? Fortunately, Markus had a scroll in storage to turn us invisible and let us hide from the vrocks while we worked our way down the river and found somewhere to fly across with magic. Of course, that was just the start of the mess. We managed to make it to the place where the prophecy was supposedly stored without further incident. Then there was an incident. We found that someone else was already there, looking for the prophecy. We tried to bluff them, but they seemed to pick up on it. One of their number was a mage of some sort and he attempted to enchant us. Unfortunately, Isilme was charmed by his magic. She spilled the beans and Ary informed them we were with the crusaders when she didn’t realize she’d been enchanted. That’s when they attacked us. The fight wasn’t actually that bad, all things considered. Most of the group dealt with the enchanter and his bodyguard, while Ehren and I dealt with their last member: a tengu skilled in martial arts.
He was tricky, keeping us off-balance long enough to try to steal Radiance and run off. Ehren and I ran him down as he tried to flee and he was willing to surrender when he realized he was outplayed. He returned Radiance and told us a few things before we let him go. According to him, he was just a mercenary and just hired by a man named Caggrigar. We headed back and found the rest of the fight already wrapped up. The other mercenaries were captured and unconscious, so we didn’t have any issues there. A quick examination of the building uncovered a basement level where the prophecy would have been stored. Unfortunately, their boss was long gone. Gone before we even showed up it seems. He likely left his hirelings behind to keep any possible pursuit off him as long as possible. We hurried after him only to run into a giant scorpion. Of course. The fight was over fairly quickly and we continued our pursuit once Markus raised the dead monster to fight beside us. I admit, he looks rather powerful and intimidating while commanding giant undead animals. If he didn’t get all gloomy all the time, he could wear that power like a cloak. Annabelle would probably be drooling all over him at first sight.
Anyway… we managed to catch up to Caggrigar. That’s when he started calling up babaus and flying. The following fight was an absolute disaster. He stayed safely at 30 feet up and called up a field of tentacles to hold us down. Obvious jokes aside it left half of us completely disabled for most of the fight. I managed to get free and tried to take him down with some well thrown knives, but he was durable for a spell caster. Markus’s scorpion got bogged down dealing with his babaus and most of the team lacks ranged combat options. This seems to be a weakness we hadn’t realized until now, as he managed to simply stay out of range and hammer us with his magic. Eventually we managed to bring him near death. Only for him to call on the power of Deskari, revitalize himself, and flee in absolute fear straight into the demon infested city. We weren’t interested in going on a complete suicide mission and were forced to let him go.
Once the dust from the fight cleared, I realized that Illayna was missing entirely. She seemed to have vanished in the middle of the fight for no reason. The demonic voice offered to help kill him and get the prophecy back. As much as I never ever want to take anything from… her, if he’s a servant of her, then he might have been strong enough to do exactly what he said. So I gave in and revealed his presence to the party. They were… displeased. It’s not like I asked to have a fragment of a powerful demon follow me around and insult me. He didn’t even ask to follow me around. I’m sure he has better things to do than wander around after a tiefling that really wants nothing to do with demons. Well, aside from killing them. I’m happy to kill demons if they’re going to be running around causing chaos and destruction. We eventually decided that it wasn’t worth it, though now he’s decided to mock the entire party when appropriate. I hate him so much right now. I’ve been suffering some… foul dreams lately. Hopefully we can resolve this fairly quickly…
Val bites back a scream and sits down in the bar. "So," she says aloud to the party. "Hypothetically. If a black skinned crone with horns and white hair was behind me dressed in rags covered in covered in grisly fetishes and bearing its teeth, how screwed might I be? Especially if it was invisible."
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Ary lofts a brow to Val. "What?"
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"Is this the sort of thing that you feel is likely to happen, Val?" she asks the tiefling with a quizzical look. "It probably would not be the best situation, to be sure. Perhaps it's hungry or wants you to buy it a round?" she adds with a wink and a laugh.
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"If there was a hypothetical black skinned hag behind me, invisible, and potentially haunting my dreams and possibly draining my life force in the process, how screwed would I be?"
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Markus lofts an eyebrow at the barkeep's missing arm and Ary's announcement of the swamp demon. Those were quite powerful creatures, and for this barkeep to have lost an arm to one but survived spoke a lot to the man's martial skills. Markus would be willing to bet that most of the individuals in the bar, actually, were probably formidable warriors.
They were, after all, in the actual Worldwound. There were probably demon attacks all the time.
Markus scrunches his nose when he senses the spellcasting on Valaria, and when the tiefling sits down next to them and announces the presence of a black skinned crone, he frowns deeply.
Now, he knows that it wasn't some sort of trick, because he knows exactly the spell that got cast. "Well," says Markus. "I don't exactly have a way to void invisibility spells right now. Isilme might - though we might want to be careful about discussing this sort of thing aloud."
"Uh... why do you ask?"
The patrons cheer at the free round of drinks, and soon the place is raucous enough to drown out even the raging Worldwound storm outside.
Whalt grimaces in appreciation of Ary and Isilme's deduction. "That it was, a swamp demon exactly. You a bard, missy?" he turns to Isilme. "Good-for-nothing Kala keeps promising to make me a song about it one day." The harpist stumbles mid-song, irritated. "For that clever guess, I'll buy your lot's first drink myself. But sadly, I suppose it isn't much of a story... I didn't slay the one that took my arm. For all I know, it's still swimming along the West Sellen, choking on my strong left hand."
"Why do you think I'm asking Markus? It couldn't possibly be because it's not hypothetical at all and I'm trying to ask for help in an obtuse way to avoid it reacting violently."
"Hmm." says Markus. "Well, if you're not being hypothetical we're probably thinking about a type of hag - a night hag. They're outsiders. Unique among their kind. Most hags are Material Plane. They steal souls."
"Makes sense that you'd find one in the Worldwound, but why would it be focused on you?"
Isilme listens as Markus reacts as well, taking Val's statement far more seriously than she had. She stops to think about what it is Val might be describing. She almost immediately recognizes the creature being described as a Night Hag. She thinks harder, attempting to recall all the details. As she does she reaches deep within herself, drawing on that spark to refresh her memories.
"It's unlikely such a thing exists, better to about something real from Whalt over there!" she says, with a grand gesture, attempting to distract long enough to refresh her message spell. Mouthing as quietly as possible, she says "It's a night hag, they're exceedingly dangerous. I know quite a bit about them, having spent several years chasing down people with stories of them back in the day. I can fill you in on all the details"
Whalt grins and passes out spiced mead to the group. Nurah frowns at the exchange pertaining to the night hag, but is ultimately impossible to be deterred from her questioning about their mission.
"What do you mean? Where is the prophecy? Did you find it?" she asks of the group.
Ehren smiles for the first time in days when he sees Hrut and Nurah. No good seemed to have come of the past few new faces they have seen, so some familiar ones were enough to lift his mood. It helped that they were in a place rife with Kellid history; tragic as Gundrun's past was, in contrast to Storasta it represented a small victory. He quickly starts to settle down, intent on letting Ary be the bearer of bad news... until Valaria not-so-subtly delivers her own bad news. A familiar lurching feeling comes over him, but he manages to keep his composure.
"I think I can expose it... but doing so here would be a bad idea," the druid murmurs without turning his head, though his eyes turn to look at the innocent bystanders in the area.
"It is likely ethereal, we will need some way to force it out of that state, or enough force effects to trap and/or kill it while it is still in the ethereal plane" she says, responding to Ehren.
"According to our extremely unwelcome tag-along, it was disguised as Illayna the entire time." Val reports through the message spell. "And it appeared just after Illayna disappeared..."
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"So what you're saying is...there was never an Illayna?" Markus frowns. "Or maybe the hag killed her and took her place? Strange."
"Well, I have magic missile, if that helps."