Stepping around to the side of the bird-demon opposite Kardas, Zane raised his mace, Lathander's chosen weapon, and brought it down forcefully in quick succession.
Free from the killing cloud and the demon's threat, Ishta walks down the corridor a bit to better asses the situation.
Not finding anything combat-turning, she decides to look for a way to stay on her feet, producing a small vial and quickly drinking all its content.
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Zarine continue to sing as she drew several arrows, the first went a bit wide the second was much closer but only the fletching hit the Demon rather than the silver bodkin.
Ser Armithia's sword ripped through the demon as if it was made of blancmange cauterizing as it went. The avians's stretching reached to a crescendo as it's guts where cut loose by a great sweep of the bastard sword!
Zane's mace bounced solidly off the demon's side crumpling it's left wing, not that the demon noticed for Kardas with upon it, his sword ringing like a gong. Again and again his sword descended upon the demon and in it's terror it evaded some of the blows but not the one that cut the top half of it's head clean off not the one that followed which bisected the reaming stump down to it's clavicle. It flopped nervelessly onto the floor and started to rot at an accelerated pace and in the space of a dozen heartbeats it had been reduced to twisted bones and ash.
Welcome to level 6.
Ishta, once the potion has helped recover her stamina, quickly thinks of something useful that she can throw at the demon. Grease? Magic Missile? The damned creature is resistant to all! Maybe she'll just stay alert to disperse any other cloud it can conjure, or break free her friends if they get caught in the beast's clutch...
But then, the combined efforts of Ser Armithia, Zane and Kardas end up with the vile monster dead and destroyed. Hurray! She wouldn't have imagined the combat going so well a few seconds ago, but there they are.
"You all okay?" she asks just out of the routine, but she knows the damage has been minimal. "We should search this part of the library, now that it's free. Let's see what the demon was looking for."
Zane breathed heavily, the toxic effects of the poison cloud still making him feel a bit weary and sick but otherwise unscathed. It seemed the group's good work had been smiled upon by the Pantheon this day, and perhaps now they could finish their work in the Library and reclaim yet another section of Phlan to reclaim for civilization.
Taking Ishta's lead, the priest followed behind her, looking about for anything valuable or historically significant/interesting.
Ser Armithia stands guard as the others search.
Helm has blessed the Watchers of Dawn!
Auryl witness me! The thought burns like a prayer on the swordmage's mind, an unspoken vow from a secret admirer to his uncaring object of desire.
"Don't mind if I do ...", he says after blinking his eyes to snap himself out of his thoughts. Whether someone minds or not, Kardas kneels down to collect some of the bits of bone and ashes for his special homebrew concoctions. "Whatever he was looking for can't be a horse wish to be riding, but alas, I get that we must find it regardless."
The Paladin takes out the Wand; offering to any injured.
Azarra casts detect magic and starts looking carefully through the library.
(bonus from Kardas if allowed)
Ser Armithia offers someone lesser restoration.
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Zane offered to ease the damage from the poisonous cloud to Azarra, seeing that Ser Armithia was also capable of healing Ishta. Chanting a short prayer to Lathander, he lightly grasped her arm and let the divine energy flow through him into her, cleansing some of the taint clouding her lungs.
The actual text of Cloudkill: "A living creature with 4 to 6 HD is slain unless it succeeds on a Fortitude save (in which case it takes 1d4 points of Constitution damage on your turn each round while in the cloud)."
That means we all take 1d4 (I don't know if you want to roll several times or assign 4 to all of us) and would have died had we failed, right?
Ishta thanks Ser for the kind help, feeling quite better.
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Looking rather pale, Delenn glanced at the remains of the demon with a disgusted look. "It seems our job here is done. I shall return to the surface and report to the council, I heard there would be a public meeting tomorrow. Supposedly they are intending to invite the clergy of Oghma back now that this place has been made safe."
She looks at each of you and says humbly, "Thank you for your help. I intend to free Lenoir if possible, it will take a few weeks to prepare but I may have a proposal for you..."
"It's been a pleasure" Ishta answers. "We've got quite a situation here in Phlan, though well manage to squeeze in some time to help you with your brother."
Once they're on their way out of the library, Ishta walks beside Delenn and taps on her spellbook. "Wanna share?" she winks.
Ser Armithia salutes the Wizard. The knight then readies to make their report.
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If there was nothing of importance to be found in this section of the Library, the priest was indeed ready to go back to the surface, the lure of the morning sun strong. Once the group made it back, the cleric bid Delenn a fond farewell, nodding at her statement. "I look forward to hearing what you find out."
Though the elven woman had been misleading the group, it seemed their pessimism had been misplaced. A wise lesson learned, it seemed. After making it back to the settled portion of Phlan, Zane wiped his brow and said, "My friends, let us enjoy the fruits of our labors for a time before duty calls us to the Council once again. We'll give Morven his due, then split the rest to pursue our interests within the settlement."
The priest actively engages in conversation about which items to give the Waukeen priest, which the party would keep, and which items to sell.
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Ishta asks her friends for some time to scribe scrolls and spells into her book. Seeing Delenn did choose to ignore her proposal, she uses her own resources to find out what she's looking for.
Perhaps we should have dinner together tonight. Does the inn have a private dining room? We should take the time to celebrate and get to know one another better.
The gold elf smiles.
Agreed. Our troupe deserves a respite.
Zane readily agreed to join the others for a dinner together, in a festive mood even after the prospect of having to pay Morven half of their hard-won loot had settled on him. Things in Phlan were progressing well in spite of the political infighting, and with the monetary gains from this latest excursion the priest had every intention of starting to lay plans for a modest temple to the Morninglord in the city proper.
The cleric was also excited about the prospect of getting to know his companions better. They were undoubtedly great people, and the perfect sort to have beside you in a pinch, but he knew relatively little about their motivations for being in Phlan in the first place. A liberal amount of wine, good food, and good cheer would hopefully change that.
When the group returned to the Inn, Zane walked up to the innkeeper. "My friend, your service has been commendable, but my companions and I are in search of a place to eat and drink in relative privacy to celebrate our recent victories."
Ishta leaves his calligraphy tools on the table. She's being putting her books in order for some hours, and her hand bones are stiff and her eyes itch. The plan for this evening sounds much more interesting: a relaxed dinner with the folks.
Maybe they are about to know each other obscure secrets. Maybe they are just going to talk about the weather. Right now, right here, Ishta couldn't care less. All she needs is some time not fighting demons, undead or evil counselors trying to seize the town.
She wears a nice dress she was keeping for special occasions and walks slowly to the meeting place, wondering if Zane and Azarra will use it for themselves alone in the near future.
Azarra belatedly remembers hearing of a nice intimate cafe called the Red Fox a short walk from the docks, but she doesn't mention it unless their current innkeeper comes up short, seeing as she already asked about the inn and Zane had responded.
Kardas is in an odd perturbed state after exiting the library. Otherworldly bastards, mortal cronies and games of deception - whatever we managed to uncover down here only leads to even more questions. Of course, he's too proud to admit that the near-fatal encounter with the daemons shook him to his core, but there's a gist of truth to his thoughts. The ledgers, the corpse of the Phlanite with a two-handed sword stuck inside him, the sheer amount of extraplanar foes - whatever could be found in the library was beyond mere extraordinary knowledge.
"To elaborate on the priest's words, copious amounts of expensive wine, ale and mead are in order, friend. Do you know of a place where we can acquire these things? Here," and he offers the innkeeper a single gold coin. "So you know we are still your customers and will remain so for quite some time to come."
The jolly but portly inn keep of the Cracked Crown Inn nods in understanding "Ah! Well there's several places I could recommend. Don Salles is a very fine fish restaurant a short walk from here, almost as expensive as it is exclusive. For a more modest budget there's the Red Fox, they do an excellent roast and the wine cellar isn't bad. Then there's The Ivy, a bistro which does possibly the best steak this side of Sembia. Unfortunately that one is reservation only and you'd do well to book a month in advance." The inn keep shook his head sadly and sighed before informing you with gusto, "Still if I could recommend one place about all else, it's Radicchio our exclusive roof top terrace restaurant. Boasting a panoramic view of the town and of the Moon Sea, it is the place to watch the sun rise or set! Of course it has access to our comprehensive wine cellar as well as sporting it's own exclusive collection of highly prized elvish moon wines and Mithral Hall dark ales. The menu is Sword Coast inspired, all ingredients gated in to order. Allow me to give you a flavor so to speak: Amnish beef carpaccio, Waterdhaven eel pie, Cloakwook Pheasant Terrine, Red and Green Calimnshan Curry, Luskan Mud Pie, Misty Forest Tarte Tatin, Neverwinter Nougart Delight and of course our signature dish Baldours' Gate Bombe surprise!"
My throat is parched for good elvish wine. Roof?
Ishta smiles. "Oh well, the way you're selling it it sounds impossible to reject. Roof, it is, if you ask me!"
Wondering if they might have some Thayan specialties, Ishta tries to stop salivating.
Azarra smiles.
Sounds good to me.
Zane nodded his agreement. "Looks like you've sold your own wares quite well, friend. The rooftop terrace it is!"
The priest would join the others in climbing to Radicchio, the house restaurant of the Inn. Zane was sure the food would be find, and the wine would likely be, as well. More importantly, it was right here, so the relaxation and fellowship could begin that much sooner.
"Ah very good!" exclaims the Inn keeper, "Come this way if you please."
The jovial man leads you through several well appointed rooms you somehow hadn't been in before and up an interior staircase leading out on to the roof terrace. The terrace has flat terracotta tiles with coffee colored walls, there are several braziers which cast a warm glow and keep the slight cold in the air at bay. As promised the view is excellent enabling you to see the over the town to Stojanow river which it's way north into the mountains, and to the south you can see the late afternoon sun shining over the docks and the Moon Sea.
The Inn Keeper passes menus around before heading back down, promising to return with a sparkling wine courtesy of the house. Meanwhile several smartly dressed waiters appear to take your wine and food orders. The menu is rather extensive, while it doesn't have anything with Thayan names, Ishta recognizes several dishes from back home. In fact you all do.
Azarra orders all her favorites, and settles in to enjoy some time with her friends. They had been through so much together, it seemed like she had known them forever.
After the waiters have delivered everyone's food and then gone again, she says
I wanted to tell you guys a little bit about why I'm here. My parents were both refugees from Phlan, and told me stories of it--positive stories. We are devotees of Lliira, and we know that all things that we suffer happen to promote our edification and eventual joy.
They disappeared fairly recently, and I believe they may have been in this area. I don't think that they are dead, or their friends would have heard. I'm trying to look for them, but I can't do it openly, in case they are in hiding... asking questions openly could put them in danger.
She looks at everyone, but Ser specifically, as she adds
I trust you guys with my life, but you can't tell anyone about this, because it isn't just my life on the line, okay?.
I wanted you all to know though, so you will understand if I go off occasionally or if we hear anything about some half-elves in the area, why I will want to track down those leads. I won't let you guys down. We're a team. I just have to find them if it is possible.
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Zane ordered a wide variety of food, as he was from the region and knew most of the local and regional cuisine. The food in neighboring Cormyr was rich in taste and substance, while the meals around the Moonsea were more bland but just as filling. When the waiters left and Azarra started speaking, the priest listened attentively as she spoke of her parents and her mission to find them. Her words explained the bit of mystery that shrouded some of the half-elf's actions, and when she asked for secrecy he quickly nodded his agreement. "If there's anything we can do to help, you know you can count on our aid."
When everyone had weighed in on Azarra's story, the cleric took a sip of wine and started on his own, "My family is from the area, my grandfather lived not far from here before the Fall. My grandmother set sail for safety with my infant father just before the city was sacked, my grandfather staying behind with the other followers of the Morninglord to give what aid they could to the city's defenders."
"My father was a troubled youth due to the circumstances, but according to my grandmother, he met a young woman and couldn't have been happier for a time. Unfortunately, she perished soon after giving birth to me, and my father never recovered from the ordeal. My grandmother cared for me. She would take me to see him, on occasion, but never for long."
"I grew up with her, but came into the church at an early age, having been blessed with Lathander's graces and encouraged by my grandmother's stories of my grandfather in Phlan. Not long ago, we received word that my father's mortal shell had been overwhelmed by the wicked substances he had abused to help cope with his life, and not long after, I had already booked passage to New Phlan, she moved on to her spirit's next journey, as well."
"So, I'm here to continue my grandfather's work in the city and reclaim it for mankind and the glory of the Morninglord, as rebirth is his domain and this city has literally been raised from the ashes of itself."
Ser Armithia enjoys the respite with his friends. He nods in accent to Azarra's words. He listens dutifully to Zane's telling.
I was choosen by Helm to reclaim these lands from the foul evil that stoled it. He has granted me His assistance in the form of you all here. I am grateful.
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Ishta enjoys a good evening in the company of her friends, for they can only be called that way now. The food and drink is copious and tasteful, and the stories they tell are precious jewels to be treasured. She tells her story, though she's sure she's talked about it before.
"Well, you might already know that, but I had quite the moevements in my early life. I was rescued as a baby by some Phlan refugees, who kept me for a time, but then something happened to them and I ended being raised in Thay. I'm here to know what happened to the ones who originally rescued me, and from what I was rescued, since I can feel strange connections sometimes that whisper me from the back of my head" she shares. Before everyone's alert starts raising the alarm, she adds, "nothing evil, nothing like that, don't worry. I've got a primal connection to the orc race, and even share some of the orcish physical marks, like poor sight at day and some other features. I am no mestizo, though, so as you can imagine that sprouted a big curiosity in me."
When she finishes, she pays much attention to everyone's reaction, specifically Ser Armithia.
Ser Armithia smiles at Ishta.
We all have our personal demons. You each have proven your valor. I consider each of you a friend.
The afternoon flies by and you are rewarded by a glorious sun set, with clouds the color of smoked salmon dappled with shades of peach and rose gold. After quarter of an hour the sun vanishes behind the multitude of trees that form the quivering forest. The meals are served by the highly professional and attentive serving staff. The food proves to be a revelation, this must count as one the best meals you've ever had. The rest of the evening passes slowly as the companions relax and toast their successes long into the night.
Far too early you are rudely awoken next morning by a pounding on your door which matches the marching band that has taken residence in your skulls. The morning after an evening of copious fine wine proves to be nearly unbearable and you find yourselves tempted to turn over and hide in bed till the room stops spinning.
Unfortunately the instant pounding on the door continues followed the should of, "Wake up!"
Eventually one of you gets up bleary eyed and opens the door to find the same runner Bishop Braccio has employed on several occasions. The lad hands you a note.
Really wishing she had a scroll of Time Stop, Ishta finally gets out of bed and opens the door in her nightgown, only to find the messenger from Braccio deliver a piece of paper. She reads with swollen eyes and suddenly all rests of hangover disappear. "I need to prepare spells! I need spells!" she goes, running around like a headless chicken. When reason takes back control, she tells the messenger to wake the others and go tell Braccio the Watchers of Dawn will answer the call.
Ser Armithia prays. The Paladin then readies himself for the meet.
Azarra, who doesn't drink alcohol for just this reason, feels unreasonably happy. Although she was awakened early, she is a morning person and it feels right to be up and about at this hour. Plus, she had a beautiful dream in which Zane held her hand, and that is a clear sign from Lliira that this is going to be a good day.
She gets ready quickly, and then sets off to meet Braccio.
The as the sun rises, the Watchers of Dawn make their way to the Temple of Tymora. Inside you find a trio of Councillors talking in hushed tones, hearing the door open they stop and glance in your direction.
"Ah you're here good. We've got a bit of a problem..."
Braccio was about to say more when the council Leader Eberhard spoke over him, "More than one problem! Do you know what this is?"
He shows you an arrow made of a black wood inlaid with strange red glyphs and red fetching. The bodkin arrowhead appears to be made of a dark metal reddish-black metal. Behind him Councillor von Urslinghen massaged his temple as if he had a headache.
Um, no. I don't think that I have ever seen an arrow exactly like that.
Very interested in improving her knowledge of arrows, she asks
What kind of wood is that?
What kind of metal is that?
Are those runes?
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Ishta studies the arrow and suddenly her face turns white. "Its... it's of orcish design... and has a powerful enchantment against humans."
All what she told last night to her companions comes to mind again. Orcs, humans... she really hopes the situation doesn't escalate too much.
"Where was this found?" she asks, surprised also because she thought they were going to talk about undead.
The gold elf looks at the three councillors.
Give us the information quickly. Evil creeps while we tarry.
Zane rose as usual just before the dawn, though this time his mood was a bit more sluggish than usual. He started and then scowled at the knock on the door, wanting to remember the fond remnants of a dream that was quickly dissolving in the morning sun. Going to answer the door at the urgent note in the messenger's voice, the priest took the note and dropped a copper in the lad's hand.
Zane's eyes widened at the implications of the note, the fact that the council was offering an immediate commission was very telling. Finishing his preparations, he met the others downstairs, shaking off the last of his drowsiness and hoping the pounding headache would soon follow.
The priest's brow furrowed as the councilor produced the arrow, though he smiled at Azarra's ever-present curiosity. When Ishta pronounced that the missile was magicked to be especially effective against humans, the cleric's interest level rose greatly. He was about to ask where the missile was found, but the clever Ishta was already on it.
It seemed the monsters around Phlan were suddenly becoming very well equipped. That probably meant a benefactor of some sort. Very troubling.
The muted muscular frame of Kardas shuffled into the temple alongside the much taller priest of Lathandar. As the others talk and discuss what's to be done, he sips from the stagnant pool of yesterday's alcohol. He snorts, as quietly as one can, and makes sure he stays behind Zane and Armithia. Yesterday's festivities continue to pound on inside his head, and all this serious civilized business isn't making it any better.
Perhaps it wasn't so much yesterday's booze that's to blame for his current sorry state. Perhaps it was the foul concoction he had brewed using some of the daemon's ashes, the grounded down teeth of the otherworldly dogs, and a couple of drops of basilisk eye white plus some selective herbs and liquids. Still, despite the physical aftermath, Kardas does feel stronger than before. Progress demands sacrifice. The horse that runs forward tramples all that's in his way.
"Its... it's of orcish design... and has a powerful enchantment against humans."
The Councillor nodded his approval.
"Where was this found?"
Deadpan Eberhard replied, "About two inches from my head and three from von Urslinghen's. No we didn't see who shot it, they where apparently invisible. And no we don't know if they missed on purpose or by accident. Yes we tried divination but they where warded and no we didn't set the watch after them, who ever did this is is dangerous."
With a deep sigh von Urslingen added, "And that's not even the biggest problem. We think there's a necromancer on the loose, raising an army of the dead. Braccio and I cut a swathe through many dozens of lesser ones skeletons and so fourth and couple of wights and worse. We where planning to go back today but..." He turned to look at Bishop Braccio as he said, "Perhaps you should tell them you learned in that divination."