Aero will explain while pointing at his stared banner.
"Pulura is an Emypreal Lord, she was once an angel before ascending, much like the Osirions believe Sarenrae has. She is the Mistress of Stars and is a guiding light home for those in the dark."
Ravana's ministrations immediately make the woman feel better and greatly reduced in pain. Her leg, now splinted well, affords her the ability to walk—albeit slowly. More healing needs to be done, but all you can do right now has been done.
"Thank you...Ravana. I am in your debt that I can even walk right now. I'm passable with this bow, mayhaps I'll be able to pay you back in some fashion."
"Oh."
Nebbin nods at Aero's words, though it's possible he doesn't know what an empyreal lord is.
He looks around.
"So, can she guide us out of here?"
Interesting. That dragon had a bunch of tricks up her sleeve. Not that that saved it. Must have had a secondary magical effect to handle the interference between the scales, or just was so big they didn't get too close together.
Anyway, under the circumstances, a little protection is better than a disguise. Lucius leaves the first scale on the floor, pocketing the second. As he slips it into his belt pouch, he is reminded of his third peach, which the withdraws and bites into. Only slightly squished in the fall.
The man in the hat is preaching about something again. Oh, right. A guiding light in the darkness. Lucius takes a moment to renew his dancing lights.
Then he'll float them off to the east, to try to see how far the passage goes. At the moment it looks more promising that trying to dig though a couple hundred feet of rubble, even with the brute with the hammer.
Nebbin's eyes go wide as the lights begin to move away.
"What should we do, Master Gwerm?" he asks, a hint of panic in his voice. "Should we follow them?"
Aero will finally take a moment to examine the scales and see what he can figure out about them.
Saoirse closes her eyes for a moment as holding the scale leaves her stunned for a moment. Opening her eyes again, Saoirse turns back to the room and walks over to Ravana and Nebbin. "We will need to move, we have no food or water," turning her voice to the rest of the room, "Can everyone walk? Lucius, what do your lights see?"
The lights twinkle and sparkle down the cavern to the east and a fork is revealed. There is a path to the north and a path to the south. As the lights push further in you have trouble making out what is further up those trails.
"YOU should stay next to me. No sense in our strongest man being wasted ahead. You, woman," his jowls move as he shifts his head to point towards Saoirse, "should go ahead and see what's ahead."
"You shouldn't talk with such disrespect to us women, Worm." Anevia hisses as she fingers her bow.
As Saoirse mentions the lack of food and asks if everyone can walk, Anevia pipes up, "I can walk...but I'll be slow. The best I can do is keep an eye out with my bow and catch up as I can. Perhaps it would be best if you left me behind."
"Don't be silly girl, we will need all of us if we're to survive...even Gwerm may serve a purpose. Even if it's to provide a meal to something. I can walk, but I can't see. Someone needs to be my eyes. Even without my sight I am not without my magics."
"A meal?! You'd better watch yourself warden." Gwerm's voice takes on an uncharacteristic hard edge.
Aravashnial looks to be ready to say something back but deflates.
"Girl. Hmph. Irabeth chose rightly." Looking back at the group, "I almost forgot, here in my pack, I have two alchemist's fires and three smokesticks. Someone could probably make better use of them than I right now."
Aero will pick up scale #2 and take an alchemist fire and a smokestick.
"I must admit, I am not familiar enough with these tunnels to suggest the best manner of egress, but we should all stick together, even if it means traveling slower."
"Looks like there is a longer tunnel off to the east. It forks. I suggest we head north, and stick to making left turns." At least, that's how he learned to solve mazes, back when they were a childish amusement. Someone needs to act like they're in charge, after all, an it certainly shouldn't be that entitled windbag. He pulls the lights back to the current cavern so they can all see again.
"I was to enlist in the crusade sometime after the festival, I had provisioned myself for time in the field. I have some food and water. It was supposed to be enough for one person for a few days." He hoists the pack, settling it over his shoulders for what is probably going to be a long walk and climb. "If we haven't found a way out by evening..." A brief pause, as he realizes telling time might be complicated by the lack of sun. "Anyway, I can probably furnish us all a little something to eat. But that will be all I have." He looks askance at Gwerm. "And I am not going to share with those who cannot cooperate. We're going to have to help each other to get out of here, and I will not give my food to someone who puts us all in danger."
"Does anyone have light? It can be draining to keep my implights shining, and with another light we could see the ground beneath our feet while using my implights to see the path ahead."
He'll kick the scale he dropped at his feet over toward the group. "And we should all carry one of the dragon's scales. It seems it was covered in magical charms, and we will need all the help we can get if we meet demons before we reach the surface." Another pause. "Or after we reach the surface. Don't bother to hoard them - touching more than one at a time seems to nullify their power."
"Warden, you're legs for the archer. Archer, you're eyes for the warden. Gwerm, please be quiet."
"Let's go. By Asmodeus's grace, we might just make it out of here alive."
Nebbin looks horrified at Gwerm's suggestion. "We can't let her go on ahead! It might be dangerous!"
Relived at Lucius taking charge, he turns to follow the orders.
"Oh yeah, I have some sunrods from the quarry. You know, in case we got trapped in a cave-in. Which I guess we did."
He pulls one of the alchemical devices out from his pouch, shaking it violently until it starts to glow.
"Do you want to hold it, Master Gwerm?" he asks hesitantly.
Taking one of the unclaimed scales, he hefts his maul again, ready to proceed.
With the golden radiance of the sunrod now spilling about their feet, Lucius will keep the dancing lights about 60 feet ahead or so.
Gwerm huffs self-importantly and snatches the sunrod from Nebbin's hand.
"Sigh...my name's not Warden. He was referring to my...membership...of the Riftwardens."
Nebbin pulls his own hand back as if he were burned, a hurt look on his face.
"My apologies. I'm still new to Mendev. The Riftwardens are one of the crusading companies? Also, you said you had magic. Is there anything we should know you can do?"
"Yes, I'm a Riftwarden and we are a group that believes in closing any dimensional rifts open to the demons, such as the Worldwound. Someday I believe that I will personally find out how to send Treerazer back to the Abyss with the knowledge I am gaining here. Against these damned demons...I have much prepared. I am quick and proficient in countering those cursed spawns' ability to summon more aid to themselves. I can throw a dart of acid back at them as I wish. I specialize in conjuration but I have a few tricks to help others. Any circle I draw and incant over protects from evil. I can instill heroic action into another. I can conjure an arrow instead of a dart of acid. I can levitate, make myself or others resistant to energies directed by the foul creatures. A magic set of armor, a magical shield, I can put foes into a deep slumber, and grant others an unerring strike."
Nebbin jumps.
"Oh. I think this can help weapons somehow. Does someone else want it. I just have my maul, but maybe if someone has a sword or something."
Lucius is suitably impressed by the wizard: those are not an archmage's tricks by any means, and lacks the immediate utility of, say, teleporting the whole group out of this hole, but it is more than he can conjure himself.
"Asmodeus has granted me some of his magic, but I am hardly out of my schooling at the Midnight Temple. I can conjure fire and ice from Hell, or bend weaker minds to His will. The dragon's scale I'm carrying grants me a small amount of magical defense. It is good to know that we have the service of a more accomplished demon-slayer."
Nebbin jumps.
"Oh. I think this can help weapons somehow. Does someone else want it. I just have my maul, but maybe if someone has a sword or something."
At the mention of Asmodeus' name, Aravashnial cocks his head towards Lucius' voice. When he proceeds to proclaim his abilities in conjuring hell-fire and ice, Aravahsnial's mouth begins to frown. He says nothing in response, simply nods gruffly at the Chelaxian.
"Perhaps we should take the southern path...the northern way doesn't seem to be trustable to me by the sound of it."
Nebbin looks around, confused now about what to do.
Lucius completely misses that Aravashnial is disapproving of him by proxy (after all, the vitues of Hell have been known to all around him for so much of his life), and instead assumes that the blind man must have heard something the rest of them missed, either due to his lack of sight or Elven senses.
"What do you hear? If we go south, we should stick to right turns. The direction is not important, if we have no way to distinguish between them. The important thing is to be systematic, so that we know where we have been and cannot simply pass our escape by." Not to mention cling to the feeling of being in control of a terrible situation that all Lawful souls need.
"Well either way, it's best not to dally too much."
Ravana takes the scale offered her and is quite shocked at the feelings that wash over her. Her face is war of emotions - sadness because she really did find the dragon to be godlike, angry that someone, or something, is projecting emotions into her mind.
"We will need to move, we have no food or water,"
Ravana matter-of-factly says, "We have access to food and water as needed. We are in no danger of starving or dying of thirst." She states this as a fact. It is clear she is not interested in being contrary, simply informing. She doesn't elucidate however.
"Sigh...my name's not Warden. He was referring to my...membership...of the Riftwardens."
She does not know what a Riftwarden is and would not be impressed regardless. Nor does she react to the listing of his magical abilities. She remains friendly and helpful, just not impressed.
"YOU should stay next to me. No sense in our strongest man being wasted ahead. You, woman," his jowls move as he shifts his head to point towards Saoirse, "should go ahead and see what's ahead."
Once the party sets out, Ravana will stay beside Anevia and Aravasnial, both of whom she has decided she likes. She will follow Lucius's recommendations within reason and without question, clearly interested in doing what is needed without interest in being in charge. Whenever a task needs doing - starting a fire, cleaning, etc, she begins it without noticing.
Ravana will take Lucius's knife when he offers.
Assuming she has the knife, she will cut fairly large chunks of maggot meat for the road. While some might find it unsavory, she has seen far worse. She will wrap it in anything handy to carry as her saddlebags are upstairs.
She will fashion a set of crutches for Anevia and a staff/cane for Aravashnial. Assuming all of this will probably take a half hour, she will then be ready to set out. She is clearly not in a hurry.
Saoirse balls up her fist as Worm talks down to her, her mouth opening to retort but interrupted by Lucius. Though her eyes widen as Lucius details his connection to Asmodeus and Hell. Her sword hand shifting to the hilt of her long sword. A hard line sits across her mouth as Saoirse says, "We will see... either way, I will take the front. Nebbin, if you would stay right behind me. The light will be useful. Ravana... thank you for fixing up the wounded. Would you mind taking the rear of the party with Aero? If anyone's wounds become more severe let us know, we can stop to fix them up. Now, lets get moving, stay together."
Saoirse reaches behind her back and unstraps her shield, cinching the straps tight to her forearm as she unsheathes her long sword and starts to move towards the northern path, sticking close to the wall.
"Um, OK, but I gave my light to Master Gwerm," Nebbin replies.
"I can summon forth light as well."
Aero follows up his statement by casting light on whatever Saoirse wants.
"Do you want him to walk up front, then?"
Then, realizing, what Aero can actually do, he holds forth his maul.
"Here! Cast it on this. Then I can hold it up behing the crusader and she can see!"
Nebbin's ecstatic noises at the light coming from his maul cause Gwerm to roll his eyes and sigh. "Perhaps you should stay with the...crusader...up front. Just come when I call like a good boy."
"I will take the rear as well...as much by nature as by necessity. I'm afraid I can't walk as quickly as I should. It will give me a good vantage to shoot from though."
"I...wouldn't last up front. Although I've fought many times in the 'Wound, I've always had stout men and women with me. I'll be grateful to be in the middle, I can provide better coverage with magic then. I can walk fine, as long as someone can guide me. I shouldn't slow us down much."
"I require protection."
Everyone rolls their eyes.
Unless Aravashnial says why he doesn't trust the northern (leftward) path, Lucius will send his dancing lights down the left path to lead the group that way.
If anyone, except Gwerm, attempts to argue for the southern path, he'll go that way instead. As he said, he isn't committed to the initial direction so much as the underlying system.
He'll continue trying to steer the party by leading them with his lights, sticking to the same type of turn they made initially.
As they march, Lucius will attempt to engage in conversation to pass the time and keep up spirits. He'll attempt to relate a story about his childhood in Cheliax, but he sort of trails off without a punchline: he's too distracted by directing the lights ahead, renewing the spell, and guiding Aravashnial to keep enough train of thought to tell a proper story.
Ravana follows the others with Anevia. She does not speed the wounded woman up, allowing the others to get as many as thirty feet ahead. She is calm and relaxed, seemingly unworried despite being weaponless.
She will try to feel out Anevia as to who she is, where she is from and what she does. Ravana is interested to see if Anevia works with druids and if so, which ones. She'd also like to find out if Anevia has any relationship to the local kellids.
"Well, I was born in a miserable place called Nisroch. My mother worked for a gang and I was raised to love art and literature...and thievery. Oh how I loved to read about the heroines in those books. One night, the lawkeepers, the Silent Shroud, raided our gang. Mom told me to run to a lady's house with a special phrase "half-wilted rose". I was raised by a friend...a priestess...from then on. I left when I was 18 to travel the world. I met her on the road. The most beautiful paladin...Irabeth. We were traveling companions for a long time." She looks away at this point, pretending to feel a twinge from her leg.
After working your way through the tight crevasse, you happen what looks like a smaller cave inside this larger one. This smaller cavern appears to have once served as a campsite or temporary lair. A torn bedroll lies next to the cold remains of a fire. A pile of bones, broken equipment, and rubble lies just past the campsite.
"Mongrelmen." They look at each surprised and Anevia nods to Gwerm curtly.
"There's no mistake...this was a mongrelmen camp. It looks like they left hurriedly though. It's not like them to leave much behind."
Nebbin looks around, curiously, hefting his shining maul over his head.
Lucius was hoping for a bit more of smiting demons and realizing his destiny than picking through the remains of a moleman camp.
"Well, these caverns are inhabited. That means they must connect to something, and we aren't entirely trapped." Unless the thing they connect to is the Darklands. Or the cataclysmic battle that opened and re-closed the fissure they fell down didn't collapse more tunnels. No. He is not going to die down here. They must connect to the surface, somehow.
"But we might be down here awhile. Did they leave anything we can use? Food, water, torches?" A pause. "And can anyone tell how long they've been gone or how likely they are to return?"
"Well, Kenabres legend does tell us that mongrelmen are the remnants of First Crusade folk who were changed by dark energies. Personally, I believe Abyssal powers were at play...these things were not well understood at that time."
"Sorry, Lucius, there aren't any torches, just these stupid candles," Nebbin says regretfully, holding up his finds for everyone to see: Three candle stubs , a bent fishhook, 10 feet of badly frayed hemp rope, and a copper brooch depicting a bat perched on a mushroom—both of the bat’s eyes are tiny amethysts. He looks around to see if he can find any torches or food or water, as requested.
Lucius manages to smile and cringe at the same time. "Good job, Nebbin."