"A friendly reminder. Time is a factor." Grey adds as the others contemplate.
Arthas nods at Grey.
”Can you disarm any of its potency or know another way to thread the needle to our goal?”
He asks honestly before drawing the holy relic sword and laying it flat against his palms and begins praying.
” As the dark begins to rise
Heaven bids you, save your breath
it's far from over.
Leave the lost and dead behind
Now is not time to run for cover
Devils wish to chain the world
Demons feed on fear only seeking to break it.”
”Ignite the fires and light springs up
Untread paths lead to nowhere
Hope when all is lost again.”
”I'm not giving in
I will not bow
I will not break
I will shut fear away
I will not fall
I will not fade
I will take the fight to Heavens enemies.
”Should you watch me end through dying eyes
When it appears the dark is taking over
Ragathiel show me where forever dies
Wrap me in your wings and fly me to Heaven.”
”If all is lost. I'm not giving in.”
Arthas places the sword in his right hand and gives it a few practice swings with his eyes focused at the center of the obstacle.
Thrall grins at Grey's words. "If some bashing's needed, give me that flail and I'l show you how it's done."
"Here the morningstar."
He said simply handing it to Thrall, he had no doubt it would be best suited to his strength. Grey was correct, they were wasting valuble time.
He withdrew his scimitar said a tiny prayer under his breath, and charged the wall portion swinging with all his might.
The first problem is the outer defense of the pattern, the field of Antipathy, which only allows you to approach about ten feet before forcing you away again.
Unless you can Dispel it (you have a low chance there), you must focus your willpower to press through it.
Even if you can do it, the force is still there trying to repel you costing you four points of Dexterity while you are there.
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Focusing on the first of the many-layered Antipathy field. Alorah calls upon her magic, arcane sigils dancing the air and appearing over some of the abyssal ones seeking to unravel it as her spell casting culminates with a shout.
As Alorah's ceremonial magic casting comes to a crescendo, one of the blazing purple sections of abyssal symbology in the outer ring slowly gutters blue, then red, then black and winks out.
Alorah has won this duel with the powers of the Abyss on Golarion, though not without cost; as you witness blood trickling from her nose from the sheer physical effort.
"Lemme take care o' this wall" Thrall growls while bracing his sword. He walks next to the force field, assures his feet and heavily swings.
Alorah lets out a relieved breath, her shoulders sagging momentarily from the exertion before smiling at the others, not noticing the trickle of blood until it drips onto her dress.
With a nod, she moves back to let the heavy hitters take their shot.
Arthas strides up to the wall and activated his Medal of Valor.
”May the power of Heaven pierce this unholy barrier!”
Using his bond with Radiance, he begs the Celestial powers to the sword the properties of impact to increase the damage to the barrier.
He uses his mythic power to bypass all DR as he swings with all his might.
”By Ragathiel’s Will!”
First Thrall struck the barrier with his enormous greatsword, his mighty thews uncoiling to give the blade enormous power.
CLANG! The pure noise of a bell being rung echoed throughout the mausoleum as the blade struck. There was a dull brown distortion left in the transparent wall of magical force left as the blade rebounded.
Next Arthas swung Radiance, its force increased as if Ragathiel’s power flowed through his arms as it would against Evil incarnate.
CLANG! Again the pure noise as of a bell rang again as Arthas struck the same spot. The spot now glowed a dull red as the distortion grew around it, as a dimple on the surface of a river.
Again and again Thrall struck, then Arthas. The distortion grew from dull red, to bright red, to orange, to yellow, to blazing green…
***********************
Soggy came in whining and looking fearfully out through the entranceway. When you investigate, you see outside the various body parts the ghoul army left behind as you hewed your way through were slowly twitching, shifting and coming together again. Red eyes opened. Mouths opened to breathe again.
***********************
Again and again Thrall struck, then Arthas. The distortion grew from bright blue, to an eye hurting violet… and then the whole field blackened and burst in a final burst of force as its being unraveled, hurling the heroes back ten feet. Blood ran from both of their noses from the effort used and the violence of the backlash.
The last circle stood bare, surrounding the shallow vessel in a network of red/indigo lines, the silvery liquid inside reflecting the awful power of Groetus high above.
”Glory for the General and his Holy Host.”. The Paladin croaks out.
Arthas dragged himself to his feet wiping the blood from his nose.
”Alorah, do we hit it again? If so I am ready.”
Thrall laughs out loud at their deed. "Good job! Now it's time for witty people again to find a solution!"
Taedric nods, "Not really a problem I can just run through."
"Lovely, Then what?" Grey opines as he attempts to calm Soggy.
While the incredibly complex array of forces involved were outright baffling, Alorah's natural gift for the intricacies of spellwork guides her, the sorceress slipping into an almost absent state as her entire awareness dives into the intricate tangle of unholy energies.
With great attention on the four dimensional image she held in her mind, she started manipulating the energy patterns that formed the Circle of Confinement.
The slow and cautious movements, as well as the intense focus cause her to sweat as she dealt with it not unlike an unexploded bomb.
There was one heart-stopping moment when an octarine flash made her hair stand on end, crackling with static mana energy.
But finally, she scrambled to her feet and backed quickly around the corner.
You heard a rising whine, and suddenly there was a gigantic octarine flash. Purple and red lightning flashed in lines exploded outward from the circle of confinement as it unraveled, outlining the lettering and stonework of the mausoleum. Then the circle was gone in a cloud of purple-red sparks. The awful face of Groetus overhead retreated to a point in the sky in moments, and was gone.
And suddenly, everything was different.
The monstrous oppressive weight on your minds is suddenly gone, and you feel almost giddy.
Those at the entrance way looking at the oncoming tide of undead watch with amazement as they scream and fall to ashes again.
The battle is over.
"זע יינגל, איך דערציילט איר אַז זיי זענען נישט גאַנץ ידיאָץ." Grey whispers to Soggy.
"איך טראַכטן מיר וועט טאָן פייַן דאָ."
"That was too exciting by half, of course this is the defiled corpse of my homeland, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." He adds, looking about at the others.
"I think we'll do fine here."
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He watched as Alorah saved the day and he couldnt help but smile.
'Thank you Sarenrae, for providing your humble servant the ability to help his amazing friends.'
He thought to himself converting the dispel magic that was his last resort to stopping this into healing energies for the sorceress who solved their undead issue.
It was all he could do to remain upright at the moment. He hid the fatigue and stress he had been putting on himself by kneeling for the moment and saying another quiet prayer to Sarenrae. One more thing put down so they could liberate the city. One more step in beating back the demons again.
"Let's make one more quick check of this damned place and make sure there isnt anything else wicked or evil hiding and get back to the camp. I've no doubt the enemy is aware that we have stopped this whatever this was and may make a move to try and counter."
He offered his new copatriots and his older friends.
"Let's make one more quick check of this damned place and make sure there isn't anything else wicked or evil hiding and get back to the camp."
"I like the way you think sir!" Grey pipes before immediately putting action to word, quickly but meticulously examining the remaining chamber.
Taedric nods, "A wise plan. Knave and I can swing wide as outriders, to make sure don't get attacked on the flank as we move."
Somehow as in-tune as she is with the intricate process, Alorah manages to avoid the worst of the severe jolt, gritting her teeth and working through the shock until she manages to fully unravel the demonic binding spell.
Thrall's grin decorates his face from side to side. "We made it!"
While the rest search, he decides to take some vigilance, checking around in case something moves that shouldn't.
”I know we have exerted ourselves, but I do not know if we have the luxury of returning to camp.”
Alorah maintains her vision shift into the magical spectrum as she scans the rest of the chamber for anything of importance, breathing a sigh of relief at the absence of the deeply oppressive presence of Groeteus.
Taedric shrugs, "You all had a plan in motion when the Lady sent us. Just point my lance in the right direction, and we'll push on... though I will say Alorah looks a little worse for wear."
Saphhiria sheathes her blade long enough to place a gentle gloved hand on Kelden's back and then give him an encouraging smile. She nods as Arthas reasserts that there is still work to be done.
"I can keep going, thanks to Kelden. Let's not make a waste of our success so far." Alorah says giving Taedric a smile.
Cautiously peeking out of the entranceway, you see no sign of the undead previously seiging the place.
Moving out north and east through the Necropolis back towards your headquarters, you pass the paladins of Company C as they rallied from destroying the undead forces here (and not having to stand on top of them as they regenerated under the influence of Groetus).
Together, they started riding north and west along the dry riverbed of the Ahara river. They saluted you with raised lances as they rode by, but didn't stop.
Coming up to the crossroads on the south bank, you see that the paladins there have dismounted and started digging fortifications around there, making use of the remaining building buildings still standing.
Something new are the figures lying down off the roadway being tended to by clerical support. Dirty, ragged and with chains still affixed to arms and legs, you see the traumatized remnants of the slaves worked nearly to death by the demons.
Coming into the command tent, you are greeted by General Irabeth and the command staff, fresh from the battlefield.
"Report." Growled Irabeth before looking up from studying tactical maps with unit tokens on them.
Doing a double take, she blinked in startlement.
"And... I see a number of new faces." She said, curious as to the change. Her glance seemed to linger on Thrall longer than others.
"The cultists, likely with the help of either high dark clerics or actual demos, managed to put together an intricate and powerful binding/summoning that allowed Groteus to practically manifest inside a Circle of Confinement, in a crypt beneath the graveyard, causing the rising undead. Unraveling the bindings eliminated the fell effect." Alora says succinctly.
Thrall sustains Irabeth's gaze. "Battle chaplain Thrall, my General" he answers. "All of us new faces were teleported here from Kenabres to assist the commando. I shall leave the original members report fully."
Taedric stands in the saddle, and, after Thrall identifies himself, the gnome bows, trying to pull Irabeth's gaze away from his companion, "Taedric Starfell, Lance of the Eternal Rose. Um, recently Knighted by the Queen.. as were all of us 'newcomers'"
"" Grey wails childishly in response to Irabeth's harsh interrogatory.
"ביטע טאָן ניט עסן מיר, זיי קיינמאָל געזאָגט עפּעס וועגן סקערי אָרק ליידיז." He blubbers, sliding off Soggy. Conveniently placing Alorah between Irabeth and he & his mount.
At Taedric's admission that all of them were knighted by the queen, you see the slightest twitch of annoyance cross Grey's features.
"Please don't eat me, they never said anything about scary orc ladies."
His heart went out to the poor folk being worked as slaves. He was glad they were receiving help from some of the clerics, he hoped the succor they received would be enough. At the command tent he waited as Alorah explained the intricacies of the ward.
"Stout hearts all these folk General especially the small one there,You should have seen the way he dove and tore into the giant undead from underfoot. They had several powerful undead creations within that tomb but the undead being are not a major contention though, they no longer regenerate and come back just as strong, once destroyed they will stay destroyed. By the light im exhausted. Did Kankai, Caralain, and Kyra return with some of the other wounded paladins?"
Sapphiria gives a snappy salute and simply grins.
Anevia glanced at Irabeth and slammed her elbow into her ribcage. You heard a muffled clank from her chest plate and the general looked at her curiously.
"General..." Anevia hissed, holding her elbow.
Blinking, Irabeth seemed to come to herself.
She drew herself ramrod straight and slammed a salute to you all so sharply it hurt just to see it.
"HOLY HEROES OF TERENDELEV'S SCALE, I AM SIR IRABETH TIRABADE! I HAVE THE HONOR OF COMMANDING THE ARMY OF THE KNIGHTS OF KENABRES!" She declaimed, then snapped back to parade rest. "On behalf of the Army, I greet you in the name of Iomedae and are honored to be at your command.
"Let me introduce our command staff." She said, then started to point to other people in the command tent.
Irabeth pointed to the woman who had elbowed her.
"Anevia Tirabade, Chief of Scouts."
The slight woman dressed in muted clothing and bearing a shortbow and shortsword smiled somewhat embarrassedly and waived at you.
Irabeth pointed to a tall elf wearing richly embroidered robes and carrying a staff.
"Riftwarden Aravashnial, Head of Arcane Support."
He bowed to you all and made a vague gesture and a word.
Irabeth pointed to a solidly built knight, who looked worn down somehow.
"Lord Sir Aron Kir, Tactics and Siege warfare."
He bowed his head to you all respectfully.
Irabeth pointed to a stout balding man dressed in rich robes.
"Lord Horgus Gwerm, Quartermaster and Chief of Supply."
The man half waived acknowledgement and looked like he was distracted by a thought he didn't like.
At Arashvinal's subtle spellcasting, Alorah arches an eyebrow.
Irabeth pointed to a small gnomish lady bearing a large horn.
"Lady Nurah Dendiwhar, Chief of Inspiration and Communications."
Nurah snickered at Anevia and waived at you cheerfully.
Irabeth pointed at a heroically built man wearing plate and robes of blue and white.
"Bishop Sosiel Vaenic of Shelyn. Head of Clerical support."
The man pressed his hands together and gave you all a bow of profound respect.
Irabeth, and all the other army personnel present, drop to their knees and bow their heads before standing up again.
"We stand ready serve!" She declaimed; then seemed to relax a bit.
"It is good you've returned at this time, and victorious over the undead! Excellent!" She enthused.
She pointed to a map on the table of an overview of the Citadel of Drezen and town surrounding it.