Jathal sends an arrow flying towards the second drake, turning to make a quip at Morgrym, she doesn’t even realise the devastating wound left as her arrow pierces the creature’s belly.
As Rhona drags Zalindra into safety, and Morgrym lends a hand to Cecilia, Ingra moves up to assist Javos. The cavalier smiles as the dwarf arrives at his side. With a swing of her sword, she delivers a crippling cut across the serpent’s wing, sending it crashing to the ground. Sneering, the drake looks up at the dwarf, steam rising from its mottled scales as a fire builds in the back of its throat.
“That’s quite enough of that.” Javos decrees, plunging his own sword through the beast’s heart before quickly sidestepping the ensuing torrent of flaming blood.
"Well this was fun, Now I know how the pig feels on the spit"She shys sitting down and wincing.
"Do we have anything for our two compatriots, also can someone grab my hand ax?"
Drakes dead, Morgrym taps Cecilia, points to the dead dragons and gestures... something.
Ingra wastes no time before rushing over towards where Rhona had dragged the unconscious body of Zalindra, picking up the other dwarf's axe on her way over.
"What the bloody hell are drakes doing in a goblin den? Last thing we need is those little pyromaniacs getting along with fire-breathing monsters."
She passes Rhona her axe before kneeling down and looking over the wounded woman.
"Not sure how much this will help, but it's better than nothing." she says, as she begins making signs with her hands and chanting an incantation. Her hand begins to glow with a golden-white light ever so faintly, and she places it on Zalindra's forehead.
As the light fades and Zalindra begins to wake, Ingra leaves her in Rhona's care and darts over to Aelion.
Once again kneeling down, she looks over the fallen monk.
"Sorry friend, I only have one good heal in me a day. Hang in there, alright?"
She begins chanting again, though this one is shorter and the glow much fainter. Placing her hand on his forehead, the glow dies, but Aelion's wounds stop bleeding and his breathing returns to a steady pace, almost as if he were sleeping.
Standing up, Ingra surveys the battlefield, and the beating they had taken.
"Now what? If we get any more surprises like this, we'll be the ones in need of rescuing. Without a proper way to heal up, it'd be daft to continue any further. We need either a plan, or to retreat, rest, regroup, and try again when we're back to full strength."
Zalindra wakes, and groggily thanks Ingra for helping her.
Is everyone safe?
She doesn't respond to the statement that they need to rest or regroup, but she nods, agreeing.
With some assistance from Morgrym, Cecilia springs down onto the ground, fully prepared to plunge her rapier into the first monster she sees. But instead she finds the battle is already over. The beasts dead, and several of her allies moaning and groaning amidst the oversized fungi.
And this is what happens when you try to fight a battle without me. A small part of Cecilia selfishly thinks. I didn't even land a single blow during that skirmish!
Not understanding what Moryrym was trying to communicate, Cecilia chooses to instead retrieve the crimson lash that was her namesake. With her family legacy reclaimed, the bard then moves to assist Aelion.
"I could probably fight a dozen more battles and still have enough strength left over to carry you all home." Cecilia says jokingly in response to Ingras' commands, accentuating her words with a flourish of her red cape. "But I see now that the rest of you are not as tenacious as I am. Gather your belongings and help me carry Mr Kinandev back to the ropes. We will need to lift him out of here."
Morgrym sighs when he sees Aelion. "Δεν πρέπει να τον κινηθούμε έτσι. Νομίζω ότι δεν έχουμε άλλη επιλογή - θα χρειαστεί να ζητήσω από τον Μόραντιν να μου χορηγήσει θεραπεία. Θα κάνω μόνο ό, τι πρέπει, αλλά η βιασύνη του καθημερινού μου τελετουργικού είναι ένας σίγουρος τρόπος να χάσω την εύνοια του Moradin."
"We should not move him like this. I think we have no choice - I will need to petition Moradin to grant me healing. I will do only what I must, but rushing my daily ritual is a sure way to lose Moradin's favor."
Morgrym has an unusued slot - recovered when he awoke, but not yet filled.
Have I remembered this right, DM Kaavek?
Not sure if it is 15 minutes or the full hour.
"Good point MOrgrym" She says in common then blinks and scratches her head.
"Morgrym here says its not good to try an move Aelion" She says looking back at her fellow captive before looking back to the others.
"He is gonna try and petition ol' Moradin for a bit of healing and see if that will help. If not we may have to camp here and allow him to get stable enough to move" She says limping over on blistery feet her cloak ruined. She checks her neck and feels the familiar hair necklace and sighs in relief that it is still okay.
" However recuperating sounds fantastic as does some food and ale. So could eat me a pound of bacon and a drum of mead"
"I'm not certain it would be wise to go on in this state with so many injuries, nor am I certain it would be wise to camp out inside this crypt. We may simply need to leave as soon as our injured are stable enough to move, and ensure the survivors we've already rescued make it back to Brindol.
"Do we have any of the potions left?"
Cecilia carefully puts Aelion back down on the ground. She doesn't like the idea of waiting here when there could be any number of goblins readying themselves in the next hall, but it seems they have very little choice.
"I have no more magic or potions, but Javos said that he came here with a squad of soldiers." The bard said, stepping away from the elf. "They might have some supplies. At the very least it would be a safe place to make camp."
Javos –still covered in the blood of the drakes– tiredly raises an arm and voices his support for this course of action, muttering... "Maybe those curs will finally be good for something."
While Morgrym prays, Cecilia performs a thorough search of this pit the party has found themselves in. Holding a sleeve to her mouth and nose, she inspects the bodies and debris that protrude from the dirt, though she is careful to keep her distance from the mushrooms. She uses a Dancing Lights spell to provide illumination whenever it is necessary.
The bard also peers through the keyholes of the two doors, trying to ascertain what might be waiting for them in the next couple of rooms.
Cecilia spends some time searching through the piles of rotting debris, ultimately finding little of any value at all among the junk.
Peering through the keyhole of the door to the south, the bard sees a set of crooked stone stairs, leading up and away from the dank pit. It's possible, based on the layout of the catacombs that this door leads back out towards the entrance hall.
Turning her attention to the door leading eastwards, Cecilia peers through into a room illuminated by a small glowing circle on the floor. Within the bounds of the circle, a leather-faced old woman with wiry hair the colour of steel sits with her legs outstretched. She seems to be in the middle of some ritual, as she moves her arms in a wide arc over her head, then bends down to grip her ankles, exhaling deeply as she does so.
Morgry, though careful not to rush, performs his ceremonial crafting with unprecedented speed.
The small anvil is set up, and tools are used. Given the lack of forge Morgrym uses the time to hammer and file split rings.
Given the circumstances he fears the divine connection to Moradin will prove elusive, but the deity is merciful and fifteen minutes in, with the rest of the world tuned out, he feels the presence of his deity.
Carefully stepping back, Cecilia explains to the others what she saw. Both the passage that might lead back to the entrance hall, and the strange woman performing the magic ritual.
"If you want, I can try to identify what that woman is doing... if it is particularly dangerous. But I really do advise leaving if it doesn't need to be stopped."
Zalindra nods at Dayana's suggestion, thinking that it sounds like an excellent idea to find out what she is doing before deciding whether they needed to stop it.
"You do that I am gonna stay right here and contemplate if I should give up roasted pork after the fact I just tried to become one my self!!" She says with a painful smile on her face, her backside, and feet still crispy from the tiny dragonlings
Jathal is worriedly poking Aelion with a stick, as everyone offers their opinions she looks up and gives hers. "We're out of healing, and we've got civilians to get to safety. I vote we head back and get supplies, allies and rest up before returning to clean this hole!"
"It does not seem righteous to just allow an evil mage to complete their work." Cecilia says, looking around at the rest of the party. "But at the same time it would not do us well to lead our injured companions into another battle."
Putting a hand to her chin, as if she were conflicted, Cecilia finally shakes her head. "I suppose we cannot act until we know more. Let us go with Miss Elerye's suggestion, and try to identify this magic ritual."
The bard will give Dayana a few moments to look through the keyhole and attempt to identify the spell. If the witch has difficulties, Cecilia will then make her own attempt.
"I am not familiar with the ritual this woman is performing, but a Magic Circle Against Good surrounds her." The bard explains, after a minute spent peeking through the keyhole. "It would likely make it more difficult for us to strike her down, as well as halt any charms or summoned creatures we might use against her."
Cecilia hesitates for several moments before continuing. "As much as I want to kick down that door and bring this woman low in a rain of deadly arrows, there could be other spells shielding her. I see no immediate danger, so let us evacuate the prisoners, and return to this fight with our full strength, just as Miss Mitheralia suggested."
Her course of action thus determined, Cecilia patiently waits for Aelion to be healed. Unless something else comes up, she will then assist the group in leaving via the newly discovered corridor to the south, assuming they choose to go that way.
Dayana shrugs at Cecilia's assessment, "If you are certain, then. Let us be out of this evil place."
When Zalindra hears that the woman has a protection against good up, she is concerned and also wants to fill her full of arrows, but realizes that Cecilia is likely right and they should come back when they are more prepared... or at least send others back, as she would likely need to attend to her grandfather.
Morgrym continues to pray, doing his best to block out the high pitched chatter of the common tongue
"All those that can't fight should go back up. I'll wait. I'm not letting this mage finish whatever she's started though. Rituals are powerful, and if she's against good, whatever that means, then whatever she's doing can't be allowed to happen."
Ingra readies her greatsword and prepares to charge into the room when those who would get caught in the fray and are unable to fight clear the area.
"I suggest ya make haste. I've never been the patient sort."
Zalindra hears that Ingra is staying, and so she stays too, waiting until Ingra charges and planning to turn the woman into a pincushion if possible. (She isn't sure what protection from good does, but she is going to try to shoot her and see if it works.)
Morgrym feels a tingling in his fingertips as he is connected with the power of his deity. While the others scouted out the doors to the west and the south, he has had the time he needed to prepare his healing spell.
Rhona limps making sure those who are worse off are before her.
"You get in there and crack the mage for me you hear me"
Dayana knows better than to argue with a determined dwarf, merely offering Ingra a weary look as the dwarf vows to stay behind and fight before helping usher the injured forth.
A burst of positive energy flood through Aelion.
"Έλα παιδάκι, χρόνος για να σηκωθείς." Morgrym grunts, pulling the elf to his feet.
"Come on lad, time to get up."
Aelion groaned and coughed from the metallic taste in his throat as the dwarf hauled him up. "Terrible dream... dragons poking me with sticks over a fire," he muttered, regaining his feet shakily.
Getting his bearings, he bowed to Morgrym, wincing from the burns that still scorched his skin. "Thank you, and your god, Morgrym. Without you both, I would be much, much worse off."
Fumbling with stiff fingers in his pouches for another bowstring, he took stock of the others. "What's going on? How long was I out?"
It was obvious enough what the elf was saying, so Morgrym nodded a response, and turned his eyes to the door everyone was chattering around.
Jathal innocently discards a stick she had in her hand. "There's a mage in there doing something wicked. The question is do we get out now, or deal with her in our pitiful condition?"
"You used the last of the healing by the way." She adds comfortingly.
Rhona looks at Morgrym. She giggles then speaks."Ένας κακός μάγος καλεί κάτι, ίσως κακό. Δεν είμαι σίγουρος τι θα κάνουν, αλλά εμένα και το ψητό μου θα βγούμε"
"Τι? Δεν μπορούμε απλά να αφήσουμε το κακό να κάνει κάποια μεγάλη τελετουργία! Τουλάχιστον πρέπει να το διακόψουμε! Αυτοί που είναι τραυματίες μπορούν να παραμείνουν στο πίσω μέρος και να χρησιμοποιήσουν όπλα με μεγάλη εμβέλεια - ακόμη και να πετάξουν βράχους!" Morgrym seems animated about something as he grabs his shield and prepares his cold iron warhammer.
Cecilia looked around. A few moments ago she had thought the party were all in agreement. That retreating and coming back at full strength was their best option. Now suddenly everyone wanted to stand and fight? Sometimes she just didn't understand people.
But despite feeling some annoyance at her advice being ignored, Cecilia couldn't deny how tempted she was to follow through with this new plan. She could picture it now. A desperate charge against a deadly foe, the outcome of such a battle uncertain at best. It was the kind of daring gambit she could have imagined the Diamond League performing back in the day.
It would probably also make a much better addition to her epic. "And then we retreated and carefully considered all of our options..." just didn't have the same impact as "And then together we bravely stormed the evil mage's sanctum!"
After a few moments of thought, Cecilia's thirst for glory triumphed over her own sense of self preservation. She would stay.
"It seems that common sense is very much lacking in our group." The bard says with an overly dramatic laugh. "I would be a poor storyteller if I didn't witness such a brave act myself, so I suppose I might as well stay..."
Pulling out her shortbow, Cecilia straightens out her broad-brimmed hat, adjusts her cape, and readies herself for combat. Javos, having had more than his fair share of excitement in the previous battle, decides to help escort the prisoners out of this dungeon.
As the group prepares themselves, the bard nods towards the door. "Someone should probably thoroughly examine that entryway. It wouldn't do us much good if a lock or a trap stopped our attack before it even began. Would it?"
Zalindra checks the door for traps.
If she finds something, she attempts to disable it.
Otherwise, she opens the door.
"I'm gonna reinforce the rear. You all have Morgryms blessing. So go and Fight I'll hop in if you need me." She says wincing while on her feet.
Aelion scrambled to restring his bow and ready his arrows before the party opened the door. "I hope those prisoners are close," he muttered.
Zalindra turns the latch on the door leading east and pushes it open. The leather-faced woman immediately stops what she's doing and jumps to her feet.
Catching sight of the weapons trained on her, she looks panicked, and you can hear her muffled voice as she yells "Wait!"
As soon as the latch turns Morgrym bursts through, leading with his shield, determined to be first. Panic crosses the evil wizard's face and a word in common escapes her lips as judgement closes in.
Zalindra lifts her bow, but hesitates when the woman says to wait, wondering if she will tell them why.
With a single finger holding back her bowstring, Cecilia hesitates as the leather-faced woman calls out to them. Was this magic-user surrendering? Or just trying to trick them? In just a few seconds indecision had seized the bard's mind.
But Morgrym had no reason to second-guess himself. And as the dwarf charged at their assumed foe, the bard decided that killing a possibly surrendering enemy was probably a bad idea. In all the stories she had read and songs that she had sung, the heroes always offered mercy to the villains. Even if they didn't deserve it.
"Don't attack her, Morgrym!" Cecilia shouts, temporarily forgetting to use his formal titles in the heat of the moment. A split-second later the bard realises that her words would mean next to nothing to the cleric, and instead starts running after Morgrym, hoping to interject herself between him and the woman before the two of them came to blows.
"Will someone who speaks dwarven please tell him to stop?" Cecilia shouts to the group behind her as she continues to dash forward, shortbow still in hand.
It was at this point that the bard realised something. If their enemy really had been hoping to trick them (and perhaps gain a few seconds to cast a fatal spell) then this would be the perfect opportunity for the leather-faced woman to strike.
Σταματήστε! να λέει να σταματήσετε να καρφώσετε!"She says yelling at him so the others didn't get hurt.
As Cecilia rushed forward into the line of fire, Aelion eased back the tension on his prepared arrow, hesitating to fire when the bard had risked everything to stop them from attacking. He wasn't sure if the woman he had momentarily glimpsed was a villain or not, but he wasn't about to endanger Cecilia if she wasn't.
Instead, he eased into the room and moved along the wall, looking for a vantage to shoot from in case things were as they had first appeared.
Muttering something unpleasant under her breath Jathal has an arrow ready but watches to see what happens before starting combat.
Jathal moves to where she can see this Mage. Muttering something unpleasant under her breath about fools with gold fever as she does.
She has an arrow ready in her bow but holds from firing.
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Ingra enters the room with the others but also hesitates when the woman speaks.
"Speak quickly, woman. I suggest you keep still as well. Anything that even looks like you're casting and you know what will happen."
Without taking her eyes off the old caster, she nods her head towards the door.
"Someone close that door. We don't need any additional attention."
Ingra studies the woman, getting a feel for her, before taking a better look at the ritual set up.
Ingra eases her way towards Morgrym.
"Оставайтесь на суде, брат. Лучше позволить женщине-виновнице иметь последние слова, чем убить невиновного в невежестве. Насколько мы знаем, она может быть одним из заключенных, которых мы ищем.
Ритуал был прерван, теперь мы выяснили, для чего это было."
"Stay your judgement, Brother. Better to let a guilty woman have some last words than to murder an innocent one in ignorance. For all we know she may be one of the prisoners we are searching for.
The ritual has been interrupted, now we find out what it was for. After that, do as you believe is right"
The woman in the circle complies with the dwarf's orders, remaining almost inhumanly still as she slowly speaks. Her voice is muffled by the magical barrier, but carries just enough that you can hear her.
"Please, I beg you, break the circle. Get me out of here."
You are able to identify the three-foot diameter circle of powdered silver surrounding the woman as a Magic Circle against Good.
The circle has been augmented with a collection of additional sigils drawn around its circumference, which serve to place a dimensional anchor on the woman within. It appears that whoever set up this circle went to great lengths to prevent its prisoner from leaving.