Quietly, Markus mumbles, "I'm more than 'kinda' right.."
Horgus Gwerm agrees with Ary; "Exactly! I'm glad that you understand my importance. But this much should be obvious or you would not be taking such measures to protect my life."
Horgus grumbles, thoroughly cowed by the dhampir. He averts eye contact and crosses his arms. "Fair enough. I suppose I have hired you lot to escort me to my home, and you have done an.... adequate job thus far. Perhaps you bastard races aren't as untrustworthy as I thought."
It is difficult for Horgus to be nice, it seems.
"I suppose I can see the value in adding more bodies to the war effort. But Kenabres is over-crowded as is. They won't be able to live within the walls."
There was something for Ehren to learn from the seer - of the wounds the young man had witnessed in his lifetime, Aravashnial's were the most gruesome. The druid offers any minor assistance that Seer Opoli would allow, but leaves the actual treatment to the expert. He watches the healer do his work, wincing in sympathy for the elven wizard, but taking note of the seer's method. On one hand, it made him feel that his own treatment of Aravashnial's injury was rather inadequate. On the other... he was not so sure he could perform a procedure so blatantly painful.
Ary smirks at Markus, "Well, yeah. But we have to realize: If you put me up against a giant flying monkey demon, with no armor and a club, I am not going to have a good time. It just... kinda goes both ways."
"That's one of the things to love about the World Wound. As bad as it is that the demons are here, and all, it creates reasons for cooperation. Cements reasons, in fact. There's a wider assortment here, than I know of anywhere else. It's... an important cause, that everyone can get behind. Because no one likes the idea of living in a Hellscape constantly being tormented, you know?", then she's drawn from the single good thing of the World Wound, by Horgus's closing statement.
"I... don't think overcrowding is going to be a problem, though." she says, grimly.
"I think I'll pass on moss ale..." The things the dwarves came up with in the name of drinking boggled the mind sometimes. She had absolutely no interest in anything that vile sounding.
Li'an eyes Horgus as she wonders if all nobles are this bigoted. Still, better to let the others handle him, she thinks. "I don't know how Ary puts up with him, Lleuad, she has a kinder heart than I."
While Li'an sincerely appreciates Ary's optimism and unique outlook on the world, she definitely doesn't remember the crusades that way. "It was certainly that way early on. I don't remember too much from the first crusade as I was quite young at the time, but I know the second crusade--despite the eventual outcome--had that feeling. The third was a serious setback in that respect, however," Li'an said, remembering how the atmosphere within the city had changed with the coming of the inquisition. "I'm not sure it's recovered since then either," she thought. That was how she'd intended to finish, but decided it was better left unsaid.
Li'an excuses herself, getting out of the water as quickly as she'd entered it and finds some rocks for shelter to get dressed. "Maybe I should've tried to learn prestidigitation after all," is her first thought as she looks at the grungy clothing and gear layed out before her. "This wouldn't be an issue if I hadn't gotten dragged out here," she grumbled to herself. Truthfully, though, she'd enjoyed it quite a bit and was glad she'd been brought out here, even if she wasn't about to admit it.
When she finishes dressing, Li'an gets Lann to ferry her back across. She heads directly to the hut, where she digs out her quill and journal and begins to write despite being quite ready to sleep. Eventually she forces herself to finish off the entry and sets the book aside. She grabs one of the furs that had been brought to the hut and wraps herself in it. She leans against the wall and closes her eyes, falling asleep still sitting upright.
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Ary, would leave when Li'an did, but simply got dressed where she was. It was less comfortable than she liked, as she'd washed her clothing, the only set, and further ha d worked to clean up the chain shirt she was going to switch into. As a direct result, changing into the armor without clothing beneath was an experience she hadn't had in a long time. She really needed to find a way to get that cleaning spell that everyone that studied magic seemed to have... besides these guys. It was a godsend. Though... simply having a light set of clothes to wear while her others dried would also be effective. She'd ride back with Li'an, and then go find a rock to warm her clothes on next to a fire, so they'd be ready by morning. Then she'd roll out her bedroll and blanket for Horgus, before starting to practice on the book she'd gotten, writing and rewriting, aiming the words towards her patron as she did. 'Hello, How was your day, Do you need help? Goodbye.'
She slowly filled the first page with tiny, swirling text, until she was content that she knew the words by heart. As Fen'wen wrote, she occasionally looked over, wondering what she was doing with her book, but didn't broach the topic. Though, she did romanticize that she was courting someone with words in a distant land or far off time. If Fen'wen looked her way, she'd occasionally see Ary looking her way with a stupid grin on her face.
And that's where Ary got her newest idea.
Valaria climbs out of the pool and lays back on the rocks to let her body dry before getting dressed again. She doesn't want to put on silk while she's still wet. The soak in the springs wasn't quite as good as a full bath, but it was certainly more relaxing. "I'm going to head back with the girls."
She waves cheerfully before heading back with Li'an and Ary. She finds some of the furs the chief had sent and makes herself comfortable.
Valaria reaches into her new bag and pulls out a slightly dusty old book, bound in worn leather. She opens it carefully, paging through the manuscript slowly, examining the bright, detailed illustrations. The style is slightly archaic, beautiful. She picks one story that she likes and begins to read one of the stories of the first crusade.
Times passes, though outside the hut, Neathholm looks the same as ever - dimly lit by the eerie fungus that grows on the cavern ceiling and walls.
Seer Opoli eventually falls asleep as well, know that he will need to dip deep into his magical reserves to nurse the group back to health. When he awakes, strangely enough, he decides to check in with a tiny pet bat before getting started on Hrut, Valaria, or Aravashnial.
"You are staying in bed for now," he says to Hrut. "If you want to get better."
In between tasks he is happy to barter with the group. He sells to Markus a few of his alchemical ingredients, sells the whole group a set of sturdier backpacks, and spares a few empty books that he had laying around for writing any new potion recipes he came upon in. Though, as he admits, at his age that seemed unlikely, so he was glad that they'd be in good use. He even finds a few dusty old sunrods from the earliest days of Neathholm, before his kind had evolved to see in the dark below Kenabres. He gingerly tests one to make sure it works, and when it does, he sells the other two he has to Li'an.
He smiles at Valaria's interest in his tribe's history, producing a well-worn book titled The Knights of the Inheritor, a very old book bound in oilskin about the heroes of the First Crusades. "I admit I've read this so many times to the tribe's youth that I have it memorized cover to cover," he says to Valaria. "I hope that you find it helpful."
He moves from injured person to injured person, having prepared a full repertoire of healing spells today.
He heals everyone's wounds, including Aravashnial's - though his face is still left a mangled mess of burns and scar tissue. Seer Opoli decides to keep his face covered with a swaddling of cloth - though this is more to protect him from rude stares than it is to keep his face clean at this point.
After his administrations, Markus and Valaria are feeling normal once more. Hrut feels completely back to normal, but he still has a scratchy throat and cough, signs that his illness has not completely passed.
Horgus grumbles, leaning against the open doorframe that leads into the Seer's hut. "Let's go," he whines to Ary. "Everyone looks fine to me."
While Hrut rests, the rest of the group is free to do as they wished for eight hours. The small hamlet is a sleepy little town, and the residents are skittish around the strangely symmetrical outsiders, but they are happy for any help they can get farming the giant mushrooms that grow around the banks of the lake if offered.
Lann lingers around the group, making sure they have anything they need (water, food, a friendly lizard-goat-elfman to talk to). Anevia, Horgus, and Aravashnial are captive audiences as well.
Ary changes into her now-dry clothes, using a bit of privacy in this case (simply changing clothes in public is a far sight from doing so in a public bath), and redons her cloak. She looks down at the sleeves of her shirt with a frown, but doesn't make any mention of it beyond that. She redons her armor, and then fluffs her hair a bit. "There, much better." and then performs her ritualistic prayer, kneeling down. But she starts the prayer by speaking the words she'd learned in celestial, before falling silent once more, content to keep most of her thoughts to herself.
Once that's done, she'll set to trying to learn about the people of Neatholme's history... eyeing Valaria's book with interest, but mostly focusing on learning from the people around the city that she's working to help; she's never farmed mushrooms, but she's a sturdy enough body for moving the things for them. She does her best to find out about each person she help's heritage; just because they aren't human doesn't mean they don't have noble heritages.
Once Horgus was awake and ready to go, Ary grinned at him, "Yeah, I figure everyone will be in a hurry to get moving. Could you do me a huge favor though? When we meet the people up ahead, if they don't immediately start shooting... could you let everyone else do the talking? It's... gonna be really delicate, and if you hurt one of their feeling's it may be all that needs to happen to spark a huge fight. I'd rather not fight people that could be allies, or even that are just swept up in all of this; Hosilla is the source of this problem, here."
Ehren spent the night leaning against the wall as he did at the temple, only this time, he had a surprisingly comfortable blanket of dire rat fur to sit on. When he first stirs in the morning, he wastes no time in starting his meditation ritual, making it difficult to tell that he had woken at all. He contemplates the strange new places they have been to, parts of nature he had never before tread on. The mystery only deepened. By the time he finally opens his eyes, his magic has been restored, feeling somehow stronger than it did the day before.
After tying his armor back on, he begins the process of storing his belongings into his new backpack. He briefly tries it on; the weight was still a burden, but the pack did take some of it off his shoulders.
Despite not being built for physical labor, Ehren spends the rest of his time lending a hand to the mushroom farmers. He himself was no stranger to living off the land, but as a nomad, farming was something he was only tenuously familiar with. It was as much a learning exerience as it was busywork.
Horgus shakes his head. "My dear girl," he says, patronizingly. "I have dealt with many a delicate negotiating situation in my life. However I simply don't see the point in trying to appeal to mongrels who side with cultists."
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"I..." she shakes her head. "Well... I wasn't really expecting to get them to come back, anyway. But I felt the need to try. I don't think the Chieftain is going to care very much, either way." Ary shrugs a little. "I just know that the main reason they sided with the cultists in the first place is because they believed people would feel the way you do, you know? Which I guess is fair, since you do. And I'm not gonna try to disillusion anyone that everyone topside is going to be sunshine and rainbows when it comes to meeting them." she rolled her shoulder slightly, then nodded, "My shoulder's been feeling a lot better since we got healed, and that hot spring was amazing. The furs were surprisingly comfortable and warm, too. How'd you sleep? Did you enjoy the hot springs as much as I thought you would?"
Lann wanders around the mushroom fields. He had spent the majority of the day keeping tabs on the outsiders and making sure they didn't go without anything that they needed.
He stops in front of Ehren, watching him help spread manure across the fields. He listens as a plump, middle-aged mongrelwoman explains to Ehren; "You see, the buds are just what we see above the ground. Just as bulbfruits are the fruit of bulbplants, mushrooms are the fruit of a network of strands in the ground that we must nourish as much as what grows above."
When she is done talking, Lann hunches over to help them. "Hello, Ehren is it? I don't think we've spoke much. You are the quietest of your group, but I believe that there is wisdom in silence." he says in his eloquent, but raspy voice. He watches as the mongrelwoman walks off to fill her wheelbarrow with fresh compost. "I would like your thoughts on all of this. Chief Sull wants us to return to the surface world, before the tremors destroy what we have left. I am worried that Wenduag is right. If we try to return to our ancestral home, will we be killed by the crusades?"
Horgus shakes his head. "Ary, you can't save people from themselves. Those mongrels are obviously being used by the cultists. It's not our fault they were too stupid to realize that and are now all going to die."
He smiles at the memory of the hot spring. "It was nice. I will have to ask my servants to prepare my bath much warmer in the future. But the accommodations here are wretched. How can any of you sleep on the filthy floor on a pelt like a dog? With any manner of vermin crawling about at all times? At least it appears that we are close to the surface."
What Horgus says about them being doomed seems to bother Ary a bit more than it should. Her face took on a concerned look as he said it, not paying particular attention to the next line, just yet (she'll get to that!), "You... do understand that people make mistakes, right? That those mistakes can lead them to better places and better things, yeah? It's safe to say you trust me, right? Cause I've got something I'll share with you, if you do."
Horgus sighs. "Sure, well, go on." (He clearly couldn't care less.)
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Ary frowns. She thinks about just bottling it back up, but then presses onwards. She'd opened the door, after all. "I used to live in the Stolen Lands... as you know. Like you, my house was destroyed by bandits. I was orphaned... and I didn't have any family. I headed into town on our horse, leaving everyone behind. When I got to town, I sold the horse, and lived about as well as a twelve year old could off of the money I made. Which... was fairly well. But then the money was all gone. I became a cutpurse and a thief for a while. A copper here, an apple there. I never took much." she said crossing her arms, and looking up at the glowing ceiling. "All of that was a mistake, in a way... but I wouldn't be alive if I hadn't done it. I'd certainly not have met the man on the corner who told me about Iomedae... and I wouldn't have found my way here. Everything happens for a reason, and sometimes the things that happen are bad. I grew from that experience, and became a more accepting person; I know that good people sometimes do bad things, and I know desperate people are more likely to do so... I also know that if someone had found that scared twelve year old girl, and preached something heroic to her about a demon lord, she'd probably have listened."
Horgus listens to her story, frowning. He seems unsettled. "You misunderstand me. I believe that all beings deserve the chance to rise above their station in life. But this should be through hard work. Not by taking it from others, or by begging for handouts. I understand what it is like to be scared, and alone. But now I have the power to protect myself, and it is all because I worked hard and made it so."
"So... when you point out the flaws in people and things, it's not because you think you're better... but because you think they can -be- better?" Ary tilts her head. "Like... you'd like for them to have at least cobbled their floors, or tried to use some wood or the like if they could find any?" she tilts her head. "Yeah. that makes a lot more sense..." she smiles slowly. "Well... you could maybe tone it down a little, no offense... but you're kind of abrasive sometimes. I get that that's not the intent. Also... I can sleep comfortably on the ground, because I only have one bedroll." she says, her tone teasing.
Still feeling weak from the night before, but not nearly as sore Hrut tries to get up and is immediately told to lay back down.
Healers always being protective of the ones they just healed
"I feel well enough, I can breathe, jump, move around and everything!"
Well thats partially true I still feel like garbage even if my wounds are healed.
"Fine, fine, if the traitors can wait one more day then so can I."
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Valaria gets up fairly early, stretching out and dressing with everyone else. She gets out the new leather bound journal she purchased from the villagers earlier and begins to jot down a record of the last few days.
It’s been quite a while since I’ve kept a journal, but I have a feeling that I’m about to get involved in a spot of trouble and I want to make a record of what’s happening. I’m not fond of telling my own story, but I finally might have one worth telling.
It feels strange, but this whole situation started with something like out of an old adventure tale. I was in Kenabres for the Armasse festival, and what a day. I’ve never seen Armasse quite like Kenabres does Armasse. For a bunch of stoic crusaders, they certainly know how to throw a party. Games, ceremonies, and these lovely candy apples so sweet… well anyway. I got lucky enough to run into the cutest elf girl on the street and we got to talking. Turns out she was a crusader herself. But more about my new companions later. We had some fun at the festival, though I proved to be pants at an archery contest. I guess I’m a little out of practice with my knives if I can’t hit a target from 20 feet. Honestly.
Anyway, the opening ceremony started off well enough. The Prelate looked so grim though, really out of place when the rest of the crusaders managed to put their problems aside for a few hours. I guess he’s just like that. Well, he used to be. He barely had a chance to start talking when all the Abyss broke loose. Literally. An explosion strong enough to rock the city tore through the air and the sky burned above us. The Storm King himself led the attack, burning the wardstone fortress while demon hordes overran the city streets. I have to say, Li’an can handle a sword like a pro.
A few others ended up with us before thinks got bad. The city’s guardian, the silver dragon Terendelev, was locked in combat with the demon but things… Things didn’t go well. The earth itself seemed to be falling apart around us when the Storm King made the final blow. Terendelev spent her last moments to save a few of us as we fell through one of the chasms. The look in her eyes when she looked down at us… I’ll make her sacrifice worth it. I have to.
I think I should talk about my new companions (friends?) now.
Li’an - the pretty elf. She’s absolutely adorable and gets the cutest blush when I flirt with her. But that doesn’t stop her from being a sharp hand with a sword, a top notch scout, and even an amateur magician. She’s pretty serious, but she knows how to enjoy herself and she didn’t flinch when she saw a tiefling, unlike a good three-quarters of her fellows. She might be the closest I have to calling an friend right now.
Ary - she’s a tough one. She calls herself a farm girl, and I can see a little of it. She doesn’t have that snooty bit people raised noble do. That doesn’t stop her from being pretty much what I’d expect from a crusader, noble, brave, and constantly protective. And she still manages to be pretty in that tomboy way. I’m not complaining. Still, I need to be good. She’d got someone on her mind and I’m not going to get in her way. She’s been watching everyone’s back since we ended up here and I’m starting to feel comfortable with her watching my behind. In the proper way of course.
Markus - gloomy. That’s all I can say. He’s depressing some days, maybe a little suicidal even. He mentioned wanting to die once. He’s a necromancer from what he said, and part vampire himself. It might be nicer to have someone else around that can understand how having something dangerous in your blood if he wasn’t gloomy all the time. Pity, he’s not too bad looking. A little pale I guess, but I guess that’s to be expected.
Hrut - big guy. He’s tough. Can take more punishment than I even could and certainly never gives an inch. He’s the other one keeping us alive and I have to admit having a tall armored hunk, oh I meant hulk *wink*, beside me when I’m fighting is comforting. He’s young, really young, but he seems honest and pretty good natured.
Ehren - quiet guy. He's a little spacey too for that matter. I'm not sure that he's very good with people. Strange guy, but nice enough. And he doesn't wear shoes. I don't know what to say. Still, he's friendly enough. He seems to be able to sense the wardstone so as long as he can feel it, we've got a good chance to see the city intact.
Anevia - last name Tireblade. One of the top scouts in the crusade if Li’an’s to be believed. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Li’an has a crush, but she’s married. Pity, she’s fun. She’s been trying to keep spirits up as much as me, more maybe. And that’s with a broken leg too. She’s probably a better scout than me an Li’an put together, but we have to manage while she’s injured. We’ll do our best. And she offers prayers to Desna with me sometimes even though I think she follows Iomedae primarily. Anyone who honors the Lady is good in my book.
Aravashnial - elven wizard. Conspiracy theorist to some, merchant to others. Strange guy in my opinion. He gets very excited seeing some of the stuff down here, which I admit I’ve done too, I don’t blame him, but he’s a little… passionate. I guess I get it, but sometimes he’s a bit much. He’s nice enough once you get through his snootiness, though he gets bossy sometimes. It’s annoying occasionally, but he knows what he’s doing so I’m not going to bother him.
Horgus - nobleman. And the wrong kind of noble. Snooty, loud, gruff, money obsessed, and worst of all bigoted. He kept quiet about me being a tiefling for the most part, but he’s still unpleasant quite a bit. He’s been a downer and started more than a few fights, but I can’t leave him behind. Even if he’s troublesome, I’m not going to sink to his level and get him killed just because I don’t like him.
So the lot of us woke up in a cave under the city somewhere. There’s a whole network of them down below the city that no one’s seen in ages! I never expected to be exploring something like this when I came to Mendev, but I’m certainly not complaining. The Lady loves travels to strange places and a lost cave system under a major city must count for something. I just wish she’d decide if she’s mad at me or not, because my luck has been up and down all over the place these last couple days.
And the bugs. Ugh. We keep running into giant bugs. Spiders, cockroaches, flies, plus all sorts of weird things. I didn’t even know crabs lived underground. Then there’s the mad dwarf too. *sigh* I’ll get to that. Anyway, we spent the first bit getting together and trying to find our way through the caves. It was tough and we kept running into wild animals that wanted to eat us. Great day. Really.
Eventually we found our way to an old shrine that someone built under the city for some reason. Fortunately, it was dedicated to Torag, who seems to be Hrut’s god. Well, we had to deal with some undead things that were hiding out there, but we managed. We had to rededicate the shrine, but it was actually kind of fun. Lots of smashing things and killing giant spiders while making a ruckus. Hrut knows how to have a good time too.
The next day was weird. We wandered around for a bit more, but ended up almost getting killed by some loony dwarf wizard. He tried to electrocute me! Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, he got cut in half by a trap. Poor sod. We kept moving for a bit and ran into these strange people. There’s no real name for them, but they’re the descendants of the crusaders from the first crusade. The Abyssal energies did… well they don’t look normal anymore. I have to agree with one of them. I got lucky looking how I do considering… what my grandmother was. They’re nice enough despite that though, and they invited us back to their village to rest and recover before we head back to the surface.
Strangest thing though. We ran into some cultists underground. Not alive cultists. We found some bodies in a cave with a dead monster. They were armed with glaives and one had an unholy symbol of Baphomet. Worst part, they were dressed as crusaders. If Worldwound cultists have infiltrated the crusaders, then we’ve got a problem. We need to get back to the surface as quickly as possible if we’re going to stop them. And gods help them when I find them.
Their chief offered us a safe place to stay for a few days and asked us to deal with some traitors that sided with the demon cultists. And apparently a broach we found abandoned in one of the caves belonged to their chief’s son. I hope his son comes back. He’s a good guy, and he shouldn’t have to lose his family. His healer treated our wounds pretty well. Which is pretty lucky actually. I was feeling kind of off for a bit, but I got over it so maybe I was imagining things. Well, the sooner we find our way out of here, the sooner we can deal with this.
I just hope there’s still a city for us to get back to.
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Is it really the 17th? It seems as if a lifetime has passed by in the span of a day. That feeling is no doubt compounded by the loss of the sun as an indicator of the passage of time.
We set out this morning from the Temple of Torag we'd reclaimed thanks to Hrut. Refreshed and energized we marched out eager to find a path to the surface, the burdens of the previous day lightened by a good night's sleep. Or at least that's what should have happened. The truth is that we had barely gotten our things together before an argument erupted in the group. I can no longer recall if Anevia or Horgus started it--or perhaps it was Master Aravashnial? The tensions between those three have been simmering for a long time it seems--, but with a bit of tinder provided by Valaria and Ary, the spark caught and grew into a blaze.
The gist of the argument was thus:
Irabeth, wife of Anevia, sold her heirloom blade to Horgus for some purpose or another, without informing Anevia. In the mean time, the order had been investigating Horgus, and given Aravashnial's suspicicion of the nobility as a likely target for infiltration had asked Anevia to search Horgus' residence for evidence he was a cultist. While Anevia found no such evidence, the blade Horgus had purchased disappeared at the same time, leading Horgus to suspect it had been stolen by Anevia at Irabeth's request. This set of circumstances, along with others that I will not mention here, led to deep animosity between the three. While the argument eventually ended, it isn't clear if anything was resolved by it.
Needless to say, they were not on good terms.
So instead of leaving the temple in good spirits, we ended up leaving in silence. The march from there was certainly more tiring than the previous day's, as it seemed we were slowly moving towards the surface. We continued down that dark tunnel for quite a while before we came upon a section where it opened up, revealing a wide passage with statues on either side. Before we were able to investigate them further, both Val and I spotted some sort of creature lurking up in the shadows along the ceiling. After a second look we realized we were both spotting a different creature, and managed to find no less than four of them hiding up amongst the crags above us.
The creatures, darkmantles I'm told, look sort of like an inky black octopus with webbing between the tentacles. Despite our advantage in having spotted them, they proved to be quite a fight. Apparently they are capable of summoning darkness, and Ary and Hrut were immediately engulfed as we moved in to engage them. I was able to use Terendelev's scale to allow both Ary and I to see through the darkness, and looking back, I wish I'd used it on Hrut as well. Left alone in the darkness to fend with two of the creatures was almost enough to kill him. In fact he'd likely have been dead if it weren't for Torag's blessing and some well placed fear spells from Markus.
As we fought the creatures we were ambushed by a crazy dwarf calling himself Millorn. I believe he was an ex-crusader who had been caught using Abyssal magic and fled into the sewers. Perhaps he attacked because Ary and I had the appearance of Drow, but given that he believed the Drow and Crusaders to be in cahoots against him, I suspect he'd have attacked anyone. "A wizard prepared is a fearsome thing," was something my father and Master Aravashnial had always said when encouraging me to continue my studies in magic. They were, of course, correct. Catching us off guard, it's a wonder we didn't lose someone right away. He nearly felled Ary with magic missiles, forcing her to retreat to where Horgus and Ehren were, and was able to dance around our attacks due to the abjurations he'd cast on himself. If it hadn't been for a lucky shot from Ehren's magic, I'm not sure we'd have won. It seems that Desna is watching over us, however. Nearly blinded by Ehren's shot, the dwarf downed a potion of invisibility and attempted to flee. At the same time, the remaining darkmantles fled back to the recesses of the ceiling, leaving Hrut seriously wounded but alive. Not satisfied to let Millorn escape, I called upon the remaining power within Terendelev's scale, using it to grant our barefooted friend the senses (and appearance) of a bugbear. With a keen sense of smell he was able to track the dwarf down while Ary and the others. In another bizzare twist of fate, the dwarf set off a trap that killed him. While it was unfortunate he died from our pursuit, it's very likely his death saved the life of someone in our group. Perhaps Valaria's, or even my own.
The trek to and beyond the trap included a significant climb through a vertical passage that had been prepared for easy climbing. The rise continued in the tunnels that followed, although obviously in a less extreme way. Still, it was a hard slog for us. Hrut was in poor condition, and all of us were worn down after the fights. It was then we felt a truly terrifying tremor. The cavern shook and for a moment all I could think of was the fact that there was very little freedom down within these caves. If the earth and stone above us settled down a few feet we'd all be crushed and never heard from again. In fact, if not for Valaria and Anevia we might have been buried then and there. They managed to spot the cave in and allowed us to escape, though Hrut and Ary took a beating again from some of the falling rubble.
In the cavern beyond we encountered the first of the people of Neathholm. We aided them, Lann and Dyra, in rescuing their friend Crel from the collapsed tower they'd been stationed in. With their friend freed, they offered to take us to their home and give us shelter, something for which I'll be eternally grateful.
The remainder of the trip was inconcievably uneventful. We crossed through a cavern with a chasm in which absolutely nothing interesting happened. It was, perhaps, the least interesting bit of the day. And then we went through another with some sort of dead fungal creature where we found two cultists of Baphomet dressed as crusaders of Iomedae. We brought their corpses with us so we could decide whether to try and take them to the surface with us for identification.
After arriving in town, we met with thier Chieftain, Sull. He questioned us and I recounted for him the story of the past two days, although I was terribly disappointed in the delivery. Next time I'll do a much better job of telling the story.
The people of Neathholm have welcomed us far beyond what I would have thought possible or right. They have tended our wounds, fed us, provided us with shelter. Though I had already promised Chief Sull that we'd bring word of their people to the surface and prepare the way for them to return to Kenabres, I truly wish for them to recieve the hospitality we've been shown. Doing all I can to make that happen is the only way I think I can repay the debt we've incurred here.
I must add that I have had a revelation here today. After the luck we've had getting to this point I truly believe that Desna is watching over us. This evening, in fact, in a moment which I can only describe with the words serene and joyous, I believe I felt her eyes upon me.
I wonder if you always believed so deeply, father, or if you were indelibly marked by such a moment yourself.
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Li'an woke up early the next morning, if you could call it that, and headed out quietly with Lleuad. While she could neglect her practice while they were travelling, she refused to do so if she had a day of rest available. Finding a wide open area within the town, she drew Lleuad and held it with her arms outstretched parallel to each other and the flat of the blade pressed against the palm of her empty hand.
For several minutes she stood with her eyes closed, apparently focused on breathing exercises. When her eyes opened again, she shot forward with the blade, the edge tracing several elegant arcs through the air as she stepped lightly forward, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and back as she advanced. When she came to a stop she dropped low to the ground, one leg fully extended to the side and the other curled up beneath her, the blade pointing out parallel to her leg. She tumbled backwards exploding from the ground slashing fiercely with Lleuad as she did and quickly switched directions, working the same set of steps and cuts she'd opened with. Li'an repeated various forms throughout the morning, focusing all her effort on mastering the blade she'd spent the past two decades fighting with, and the techniques she'd been learning all her life.
After several hours of repetitive and strenuous practice, she found a secluded place along the shore and washed herself off in the waters that surrounded Neathholm. Refreshed, she headed back into the village to see what everyone else was up to for the remainder of the day.
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Valaria tucks her journal away and heads out into the village, taking a look around the small settlement. She spends most of the day talking with some of the villagers. She wanted to know as much as she could about them in case she didn't have a chance to talk with the mongrels again. She took some notes in the margins of her journal, but mostly just listened and watched.
Li'an returns to Seer Opoli's hut to find Aravashnial standing outside of it, trailing his hand across the squat structure's walls. He turns to her, and smiles.
"Li'an, Sina yamen' naa erasolno. Uma lle caela birarn ar en? Lle siand lediannarn iluve, ikotane tanya lye div firomo gil aerararnan y parma."
Aravashnial adds, in a quiet voice, "Nyara amin mani lle elea. Mani uma sina yamen' maa ve'?"
Horgus Gwerm sighs. "I suppose so, Ary." He looks distant for a moment, before seeming to come to. He sits back down on the ground with a grunt.
"At least I can rest my feet. They've been aching terribly. But it's so boring down here. These people do nothing but work."
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"I'm sure they have other things. Valaria bought a really old book I kind of wanted to read. As a matter of fact, they've probably got some books that you'd never get a chance to see, topside. So there's definitely that. What sort of stuff do you like, exactly? All I know about you is that you're educated, and not half-bad with a sword when you're pressed." Ary responds, keeping conversation with Horgus.
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Ehren listens to the mongrelwoman intently, every word sinking in. Somehow, the way she spoke reminded him of home. Yet another lesson learned from nature. Perhaps farming is merely applied philosophy, he muses to himself, smiling softly as he works. However, his expression quickly tenses when he hears Lann's words, his hands ceasing their labor.
"I am not sure I can answer that question, Lann," Ehren replies gingerly, casting his eyes downward. The mongrelman (or person of Neathholm, rather) was certainly a perceptive one. The druid sighs, grasping for the right words to say, while wondering whether those words existed at all. He could only offer his most honest feelings on the matter.
"I... I believe there are many good crusaders on the surface, like Ary and Hrut... but I also know that the crusades have at times been misguided, and ruthless in their deliverance of 'justice.' The past persecution of my own people is a testament to that. In a dark time like this, it would be easy for them to look upon you and succumb to fear. And fear can turn even the wisest of men into fools.
"So perhaps Wenduag is right about the crusades... but he is wrong if he believes your people can find salvation with Hosilla. Any promises she made to him… I have no reason to believe that the demons would honor any of them. All they wish for is the destruction of their enemies - Wenduag is merely a tool in that regard. Perhaps he meant well at the start, but he has chosen a path that can only lead to ruination.
"I cannot ask you to trust the crusades. You have every reason not to. I can only ask that you have faith in your chief... Faith that there are those on the surface who will see your people for what they truly are, and welcome them with open arms... or be desperate enough to have no choice in the matter."
Ehren finally stops, seeming a bit out of breath. Realizing that he still has more manure to lay, he hastily gets back to work. "But those are just the words of a boy who has not been on this world for nearly long enough. And if there is truly wisdom in silence, then perhaps I have already said too much."
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Li'an was happy to see Aravashnial in good spirits, she'd meant to talk to him last evening, but between studying, bathing and writing most of the evening had disappeared. "Yes, I've been writing down what's happened so far. Honestly after the past two days It will be nice to have little to record for this evening," she reassured him. "I wish I had some skill at drawing. It would be interesting to make a few sketches of this place."
She took Aravashnial by the arm and smiled. "Well, if you want a description of the town, I will do my best Master Aravashnial. Let us go for a walk." She led the old elf away from Opoli's hut, walking down the path that led to the main thoroughfare of the small village. "The first thing you should know is that the ceiling of the cavern, far above us, is covered in luminescent fungus. It's not exactly stars in the sky, but it is quite striking nevertheless." Here in the cavern that Neathholm rested, the feeling of being trapped beneath so much stone and earth that came with the tremors and collapse yesterday had finally relented. "It gives just enough light to see by for me, though it might be dark for the humans in our group."
Before they'd reached the end of the path, she had a thought. "Wait here, I'll return in a moment." Li'an headed back into the hut and grabbed her old backpack, tossing her journal, ink and quill in it before heading back out to Aravashnial. "I'm back, I wanted to grab my journal and ink quickly," she said as she approached him and took him by the arm again.
Resuming the walk where they'd left off, she described the various buildings and their construction, remarkable for their clever use of what little they had in the way of materials here. "I imagine the dwarves would describe their work as crude or primitive, but it is remarkable that they were able accomplish so much in a relatively short time. It's hard to believe they've not even been down here a century yet, and I'm sure if you threw a few handfuls of dwarves down here with nothing, they'd not be living in one of their Great Halls either. It's also interesting to think that both you and my father probably met some of the ancestors of these people. Of course the only name they seemed to be aware of was Ary's." She supposed it was likely because her father, while aiding the crusades, had spent most of his time adventuring with his companion during the first crusade. "What was her name? It seems like I should know it... she thought, distracted for the moment. From what Li'an knew, they had tended to act on their own when going out in the field.
She continued on around the town, describing the few flora visible and passing by the farms where she waved at Ehren as he worked the mushroom fields. "Ehren appears to have decided to spend the day learning the basics of mushroom farming," she told Aravashnial as they passed. "They have large fields dedicated to their growth here, which you've probably figured out by the smell already," she said, her nose wrinkling in response to the smell of manure. As they went she also described the various residents of the town, the variation in appearance from mongrelman to mongrelman, though she made sure not to refer to them as such.
Heading to the edge of town, she described the small lookout towers near the main landing where they'd crossed the lake the previous day. Occasionally she would stop and ask for directions, trying to figure out where Lann was so she could ask a favor. When Li'an finally found him, she'd doubled back around to where Ehren had been farming. "Lann, could I ask a favor?" she called out to him as she left Aravashnial by the fence that enclosed the field. Whispering to him she explained, "I'd like to borrow the raft you used to take Aravashnial to the hot springs."
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”I do all sorts of things. I enjoy going hunting with my dogs. I enjoy reading books. I enjoy counting my money. I enjoy managing the many people who tend for my vast estate and holdings.” Horgus sniffs. ”…I suppose a new book would be nice. Keeps the brain from rotting, you know. Splendid idea! I’m glad I thought of it.”
Horgus seems to be in better spirits.
”I think there will be a bonus for you if you keep your work up,” he adds to Ary. ”Never let it be said that I don’t pay my workers fairly.”
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”Wenduag is a woman. She reminded me of your elf friend, once,” Lann reminds Ehren with a grin. His lopsided smirk (due to only having lips on one side of his face) vanishes as he contemplates Ehren’s words.
”I agree with you. And your age doesn’t mean much. You have an old soul.” The tall, thin mongrelman stands up straight, pulling out a small stone carving of a longsword.
”We follow the same gods and have the same enemy.” He sighs. ”I only wish it were that simple.”
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”Glowing fungus? That’s intriguing,” Aravashnial grins. ”I had always assumed subterranean races wouldn’t need light to get by… I wonder if the mongrelmen choose to congregate in the light because of something hereditary or is it just a vestigial cultural concept from their descent from humankind?”
He stops. ”Ah, I’m sorry, it’s just that’s what they’re called in all of the old books. The… Children of the First Crusade. I think that would make a better book title than The Mongrelmen, no?”
He turns somber when Li’an mentions his own involvement in the First Crusade. ”Indeed, I suppose I had not dwelled on that before. The First Crusade was different. Everyone was optimistic that the demons would be squashed, the way they were at the Lake of Mists and Veils. Lots of young men and women marching off to war, thinking it’d be like a fairytale. “ He smiles slightly. ”Such as your father. And myself.”
Later, while on the raft with Lann, he adds, though the conversation had long since moved back to describing Neathholm, ”We live in the Age of Lost Omens, Li’an. Perhaps the Worldwound is the final nail in the coffin in a long line of misfortunes since Aroden’s death. The Lord of the Apocalypse come to reap what is his,” he says somberly.
Then Aroden died. The Worldwound opened only a few months later.
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Thrashing around in his bed roll, continuing to get dirty looks the healers as he will not sit still.
I cannot remember a time where I just rested this much, I feel like a child! Hrut thinks to himself frustratingly.
"Seer, are you old by your peoples standard? I do not mean to be rude, just trying to pass the time and learn about you and your people if that is okay. I consider myself a sort of scholar in disguise." Moving from a frustrated demeanor to a friendly one as Hrut finishes his statement with a small chuckle.
Might as well make the best of this if I am going to be stuck here for a day.
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"It was a great idea, wasn't it? What sort of topics are you interested in? Opoli had a pretty big collection, I think. There might be others scattered around, as well, if you'd like for me to ask around for you."
Li'an thanked Lann for volunteering his time to take them across. She had hoped not to trouble him, but he wouldn't budge on the matter, so she tried to figure out some way to make it up to him.
As they crossed the lake to the hot springs, she listened to Aravashnial's dire and somewhat fatalistic prediction. "You are right, it is a dire situation. Perhaps it's inevitable, but if we give up now we won't change that. I swore to Lleuad and my father that I'd fight with everything I had though, so I'll see it through to the end, one way or another." It was the only thing she could think of as a counter to his prediction.
The raft struck the shore with a thud, jolting the passengers and serving as a good stopping point for that train of thought.
"And we're here now, so I'm going to describe more scenery, and you're going to enjoy the descriptions!" she said in a more cheerful tone. She took time describing the area without actually describing the hot springs until they'd gotten right to the edge. "Ok," she said as she stopped at some rocks near the edge and guided Aravashnial to sit down on them. "I'm sure you can smell the humidity and feel the heat at this point, so no use in hiding it. Valaria dragged Anevia and I out here last night to these hot springs, and most of the others made it as well. So now it's your turn."
She had borrowed (i.e. stolen) someone's bar of soap and one of the smaller furs they'd brought for the group along with her ink and quill precisely for this reason. "You can change and cover yourself with that, and then I can help you get in and out of the water. I'll be right here if you want to talk, and if you just want to relax, I've brought my journal so I can write." She set her pack aside around behind some nearby rocks where she could sit comfortably while giving Aravashnial privacy. She then turned back to him.
"And did I mention no arguing about it? I was dragged out here and embarrased all last night, and it was worth every bit of it," she said mirthfully as she recalled the previous evening.
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Horgus Gwerm takes up on Ary’s offer and the pair spend the evening perusing Seer Opoli’s old tomes and manuscripts. They are almost exclusively on the events of the First Crusade. Horgus actually doesn’t learn much (as a Mendevian noble, he knows a lot about the Crusades) but he tells Ary some of his favorite stories.
She disagreed with the leadership of the Crusade’s growing obsession with routing out traitors from within (in the aftermath of the Third Crusade). So she was ultimately ex-communicated from the Church of Iomedae after a rumored altercation with Inquisitorial branch – it was very scandalous.
But rather than be banished, Yaniel chose to walk into the Worldwound. Alone..
Two years later, she returned, leading a band of Crusaders she had single-handedly rescued. She was pardoned by the Crusader-Queen herself.
Sadly, she died towards the end of the Fourth Crusade, in battle, like every war hero of the Crusades. Such is the fate of being a champion in a war that you are losing.
----
Aravashnial spends the rest of the day relaxing in the hot springs while Li'an writes.
"Li'an, I am very glad that you are here. You will need to read that to me, when you are finished."
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19 Arodus 4713 AR
The next day? Evening? It's hard to tell, and the mongrelmen don't have any need for tracking time in the conventional sense, without the sun.
Seer Opoli tends after Hrut, resolved in banishing the sickness from the man's body. He prepares Remove Sickness, with the aid of his little bat companion - he talks to it sometimes, though it never answers.
He chuckles at Hrut's question. "Yes, I am the oldest man in our tribe. I have been very busy of late, writing down all that I know, so that my methods can be passed down to a suitable successor."
A few hours later, and Hrut feels fantastic.
Lann gathers the heroes to Seer Opoli's hut before they disembark.
"Alright. The traitor's den is thirty minutes away, down a long and winding tunnel. Right before the entrance to the outpost the tunnel will narrow down so that we will have to proceed single-file. The choke point will widen out to a small area with barricades, before the entrance to the lair proper. Once you are in the entrance chamber, the cave complex branches out into two wings. The righthand side leads into the kitchen, but also the chieftain's quarters. The lefthand side eventually leads to a route to the surface, but it is small and narrow."
"What is your plan?" he asks, though his gaze lingers on the Crusaders in the group: Hrut, Ary, Anevia, and Li'an.
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Ary sleeps well that night, but she also has a strange dream.
She stands in a ruined room... some sort of museum? Its contents have been smashed and scattered across the room-- even the shelves have been shattered and torn apart in places. The decapitated bodies of two knights, their armor and bodies broken and mangled, lie in the ruins.
She turns, and high up behind her on the wall there is an empty bracket where a longsword once hung over a stylized gold sunburst painted on the wall. Lines of strange runes are carved into the walls on both sides of the sunburst....they are in celestial, and thanks to her tutoring from Hrut, she can read them. They read: "Let us inherit thine arms, Iomedae"
Under the bracket is a brass plaque. It is engraved: RADIANCE, SWORD OF YANIEL
Under the sunburst is a mural of a woman, wielding a breath-taking longsword, apparently made of solid gold... but if the mural is to be believed hard enough to rend a babau in two.
The mural has been defaced with blood and excrement.
Ary wakes up soon after.
Li'an promised she'd read him the story when they had a chance, and enjoyed the quiet afternoon, knowing there'd be few of them after this.
She marked a section in the back of her journal and attempted to write a short story about the exile of the Children of the First Crusade.
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Listening to Lann's explanation of the layout, Li'an worried about the constrained approach to the outpost. Trying to get a better feel for the situation, she asked a series of questions to Lann. "How many of them do you think there are? Or at least how many departed from Neathholm with Hosilla? Are other tribes near enough to have contributed? Do you or others here recognize members from other tribes on sight, or would it be possible to pose as defectors from another tribe? Do different tribes tend to keep different schedules? Can we figure out when most of their group is likely to be asleep?"
Lann does his best from what he knows:
"No more than twenty men and women of Neathholm defected with Wenduag. I don't know if Hosilla managed to travel to the other tribes - they are very distant, but it is within the realm of possibility. There are a lot of tribes, but the closest one is a day's march away... people typically keep to themselves, we only communicate to trade. I myself have lived my whole life in this tribe, I've seen very little of the world, I suppose." He thinks for a moment, grinning. "I would like to walk with you to the world above. Is it true that there is no ceiling? Just... nothing?"
Lann continues, "They will have a rotating watch, if they operate similarly to how it was when I worked there. There is only one way in and out."
Li'an nods, "It's not nothing really, it's the sky. You can't reach it, but it's always there. At night it's black and filled with stars," she explained, though she realized that he might not have a concept of stars. "Imagine if the roof of this cavern had thousands of small points of light," she clarified. "And in the day it's vast and blue. You should certainly see it for yourself. Plus it'll also be good to have someone who knows the way up to Kenabres in Neathholm."
"As far as the plan goes, I think we should try to pose as defectors for as long as we can get away with it. If we get discovered early, hopefully we'll at least we'll be on top of them, instead of charging their barricades."
"So we play cultists until we can get close enough to make a move. Risky, but potentially devastating if we can make it work. We'll have to be very careful how we act though."
She stops and thinks for a moment. "Hmmmm, perhaps it would be best if either myself or Markus leads the way. A tiefling would make a believable cultist in this area, more so than some of us. And how famous are some of our friends? If there's anyone that might be recognized, we'll either need to disguise them, or maybe pretend they're prisoners."
"Don't forget the scale, it'll allow us to be even more convincing. Its magic isn't limited to simply changing appearances," she added. She understood somehow from possessing the scale that it would make it more difficult for those with ill intentions to see through their ruses.
Val nods, agreeing with the idea. "Yeah good point. It should be enough to keep a couple of us disguised, but we'll need to be careful when we use it. If it runs out in the middle of their base, it will blow our cover pretty fast."
Lann appears distant. "It would be nice if we didn't have to fight at all. Wenduag was a friend, once. But...she has allied herself with terrible people, and needs to submit to justice," he affirms.
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Val nods again. "Yes, she needs to face what she's done, but death is justice far less often than many people believe. If we can convince her to turn away from the path she's chosen, then all the better." She sighs. "But if it comes to a fight..." She pats her knives as she trails off.
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Ary wakes up with a start, covered in a cold sweat, the next morning. She's panting as she looks around, confused for a moment. No... not death everywhere. Still safe.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a dream so vivid; she'd dreamed of the farm back home... but everything was big in those dreams; impossibly large. And she'd dreamed of the church, and the tavern she'd waited outside of most nights... but...
----------------------
Once Horgus awoke, Ary would ask him a question:
"Was there anything special about Yaniel's sword?" She didn't have much more, and appeared to be being vague... whether intentionally or just because, was anyone's guess.
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"I agree that I'd rather not kill them if we can help it... but it's a dangerous prospect. I'd prefer to lead by example, than to show them what they fear and expect, you know?"
Then she shifted back to the concept of assault, "What was your outpost built to protect against?" That'd go a long way as to explaining what to worry about.
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"I saw it in a museum once. It was solid gold," Horgus shrugs. "Really fancy. Yaniel must have been from a wealthy family, I guess."
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Lann shrugs. "It wasn't originally an outpost: it was a domicile. Then we grew too numerous to live there, so now it is an outpost against possible enemies from above. But that was all a very long time ago."
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"I..." she stops for a moment. "Did you mention that? I don't think you mentioned that." she frowns, seemingly a little shaken. "Was it named 'Radiance?'
Then she paused. "When did you say that your sword was stolen?"
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Ary nods slowly, "I guess that makes sense. You don't just build a keep unless you have something to guard against, so just turning an old home into a guard station fits."
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"I have no idea: I've never understood the fascination with weaponry, it is barbaric."
Horgus sighs. "A month ago. I hired the best investigator I could find, too."