When Savah and Das approach them about Dante, Johannes can't help but take the story to heart. He mourns for Dante as both a craftsman and a Caydenite. "Aye, tha's a rough draw t' be sure," he says to the men. "Drink can be good fer liftin' yer spirits, but the bottom of a bottle is no place t' be searchin' fer peace. It's not Cayden's way, and I got a duty to be helpin' Mister Jacinth see his way back out."
"Now, we ain't been town but a handful o' weeks yet. What can ye be tellin' me about Simon's disappearance and the Late Unpleasantness?"
Jian will, on his own time, seek out Sabyl. If the others are interested in coming and watching, they are more than welcome, of course, but he won't burden them with that.
Jian is also keenly interested in helping out Dante.
While all warm smiles and courteousness with the elderly Madame Mvashti, Lys fixes Father Zantus with what can only be described as a playfully sardonic look at his latest request. Despite not having a place for the Savored Sting within the newly unveiled Sandpoint Cathedral, the Desnan ought to have known better than to ask a favor of a Calistrian without good reason. The clergy were not known for their altruism, after all. And investigating Chopper's Isle based on the claims of a few superstitious and likely fearful residents did not seem like a very good reason to invoke the help of a Calistrian and the strings that usually came attached.
"That sounds like more of a concern for the town guard to look into, wouldn't you agree?" Lys replies, not unkindly but perhaps a touch cheekily. "But I suppose it's the least we could do to repay the kindness and hospitality that Sandpoint has shown us."
---------------
In the privacy of her rented suite, Lys sits at the dressing table and goes over the brief contents of Kaye's letter one more time. With a quiet huff, the priestess tosses the letter onto the desk and reclines back into her chair as she considers the woman's request. The issue wasn't whether or not she intended to help the brothel owner; a concern so close to the Goddess's own heart was not one to be overlooked. Besides, Kaye had been good to her, allowing Lys use of a private room at The Kitten to ply her trade, saving her the awkward trouble of trying to use Ameiko's establishment for such purposes.
Rather, Lys's hesitance stems from the implied nature of Kaye's appeal. While she was no stranger to using her body to give thanks to the Goddess or to seek her own satisfaction, there was something she found personally objectionable to using sex to persuade someone. Perhaps it was a moral remnant from her noble upbringing. The notion of using sex to persuade someone as a favor to a third party only made the thought that much more distasteful to the priestess. But only a fool would refuse to use every weapon in their arsenal to achieve their goal, and Lys didn't think of herself as being very foolish. Nothing would be off the table if it meant Kaye no longer had to suffer this harassment.
But first, Lys planned to do a little reconnaissance. In the few hours before Jian's sparring match is set to take place, Lys gossips with the good people of Sandpoint, making discreet inquiries about one Jubrayl Vhiski. Who is he? What does he do for a living? Why might one not report him to the Sheriff if they felt threatened by him? Especially if the aforementioned one was romantically involved with said Sheriff.
---------------
Lys listens to the tale the two blacksmiths craft with a furrowed brow. Word had reached her in Korvosa some years ago of the famed Kerberoi Arms. They were famous for their expediency in fulfilling orders as well for the quality of the enchantments their finished products possessed. While it was a nice sentiment, wanting to retake this magical forge so that they could arm the good people of Sandpoint in the event of another attack on their town, Lys was a bit too cynical not to think they weren't at least a little motivated by profit. In her experience, no one ever did anything for free.
Still, if her handsome counterparts are set on keeping Dante from drowning his sorrows, Lys is willing to go along to offer what help she can. Not that she expects she'll be able to offer much. Vengeance is the best form of closure in Lys view, but unless the smithies were using 'disappeared' as an odd euphemism for 'murdered' and Chopper somehow managed to evade justice all those years ago, vengeance is not something she thinks she'll be able to grant.
Of note, Ilysaria, you don't think that Kaye was insinuating you use sexual favors to persuade Vhyski; rather, she was implying that you could use his attraction (which she is assuming) to gain access to some sort of information that might help.
I want to make that clear because I as a DM find that use of sex icky :p
What you find out is that Vhyski is something of a thorn in Sheriff Hemlock's side. He has never been caught involved in criminal activity, but everyone knows that he has his fingers in several pies. Rumor has it that if you're looking for an illicit job, Vhyski will have work for you. He regularly hits most of the taverns in Sandpoint, though he avoids The Rusty Dragon.
Dante is easy to find. He's a regular at The Hagfish Hopeful. If you go there to find him, you find a man that was once quite handsome, but he has clearly let himself fall apart. His skin is sallow, and what was surely once lustrous black hair is lank and matted. A week's growth of facial hair covers a face that you see pulling a drink straight from a bottle, wincing as it washes down.
What do you do?
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Upon returning to her suite after learning of the rumors surrounding Jubrayl, Lys sits down and pens a reply to Kaye.
As a humble servant of The Lady in the Room, I would be remiss in performing my sacred duties as a priestess were I to turn a blind eye to a matter so close to the Goddess's own heart. As Calistria is my witness, I shall endeavour to rid you of your present nuisance and see to it that you can conduct your business without interference from here on out.
You should know, however, that the Goddess's aid is not freely given to those outside of the flock. It is my hope, dependant upon my success in ridding you of this undesirable suitor, that we may discuss a possible arrangement between your distinguished establishment and our Church.
Yours,
Lys
---------------
Lys easily spots the target of their intervention, and she can't help the the weary, slightly irritated huff that crosses her lips once she does. "Looks like we have our work cut out for us," she comments stonily. While not a woman completely bereft of compassion or pity, Lys preferred to channel such emotions into action on behalf of the slighted party. But when no such target for revenge was readily available, the priestess could often be a touch moody for it. The feeling of helplessness was one Lys tolerated poorly.
At the reproachful looks her remark garners from her companions, Lys apologizes by way of offering to be more helpful. "Right. I'll let you do most of the talking. I'll see if they have any coffee behind the bar."
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"No need," Johannes says to Lys, pulling out a small sack. "I got what he'll be needin' right here." Grimacing, he sizes up Dante from across the bar before making his approach. "Careful, now. I'm gonna sober 'im up, but he may not take kindly to it."
His instructions relayed, he makes his way over to the drunk and pulls up a human-sized chair. "Dante, right? Johannes Appleseed, Cayden's cleric. Pleased ta meetcha. The lovely lady is my associate, Lady Lys. Mind if we have a seat?" Though, of course, he's already taken one. "Yer lookin' a bit outta sorts, Dante. Might be that cheap brew yer drinkin'. Don' get me wrong, the cheap stuff's all well and good at the proper time and place. But how 'bout I pour ye one o' me personal brews instead, and tell me what's got ye so low? No charge, o' course, 's all part o' spreadin' the good word."
Jian does not sit down, seeing Johannes and Ilysaria handling this. He is not extremely skilled at social interaction, so he just orders an ale and watches.
Dante scratches his chin before shrugging and draining his mug, then holding it out to you, Johannes.
"See? Thasswhy I like ya Caydenites; always with the good shtuff."
Dante is slurring slightly, but is clearly making an effort not to.
True to her word, Lys allows Johannes to do most of the talking, only offering a curt "Charmed" and a strained smile when the halfling introduces her. She settles into a seat at the table, one hand resting on the handle of her whip as she takes Johannes's warning to heart. Her other hand slips under the table to settle briefly on Johannes's leg, although not for the reasons a man might like a lady in a tavern to feel him up. No, instead the priestess bestows him with a bit of the Goddess's own luck in the hopes that his efforts to redeem this lost man might be doubly blessed. Once by Cayden, once by Calistria.
Johannes takes the mug and holds it under the table in his lap. "The Appleseed clan's been makin' fine drinks fer generations. Used t' be we were working in a Chelaxian vineyard, but these days the family's in Bellis, makin' Bellis mead." Johannes keeps up the patter, distracting Dante while he mixes the drink. After he stirs it and it begins to fizz, he puts it back in front of Dante. But when the drunk's hand reaches out to take the mug, Johannes slaps him away. [B]"Now now, we gotta be prayin' first." Taking Dante's hand in his, Johannes bows his head in prayer.
"Cayden, please take pity on this drunk soul. Grant him the relief from his worldly cares that he searches for at the bottom of his cup, and clear his achy head so that he may feel your blessings anew. With your blessing, and your blessed brew, amen."
His prayer finished, and the magic beginning its work, he releases Dante's hand and pulls out another bottle for himself. "Drink up," he says.
While Dante starts on the mug of hangover cure, Johannes keeps up the patter. "Dante, I believe that Cayden sent me here fer a reason. And I'm not jus' talkin' about plantin' apple trees an' makin' cider. I'm talkin' about you, Dante. You used to be a smith. By the gods, ye was one o' the best smiths in all Varisia. Isn' that right? But here I find ye, low in yer cups. I think Cayden sent me here ta do somethin' abou' that, Dante. Do ye believe that? Now, tell me wha's got the great Dante Jacinth so down?"
Bemused, Dante lets you take his hand and he listens to your prayer. Your words, and your drink, seem to be having an effect. When you reference his past as a smith, he winces, face twisted painfully as if a barely healed wound had just broken open.
"So, you've been talking to my friends. They mean well...and they should have abandoned me a long time ago. It's simple, friend. I lost my son. I was making a gods-cursed sword when he was taken from our home. I know he's gone. I know it, but...every now and then I'll be tormented by the ghost of hope. What if he's still out there somewhere? What if I didn't look hard enough? I know he's not...but still, I can't help but hope, and the drink is the only think that takes the edge off the pain that causes me."
Dante's mouth opens. He's clearly surprised; he probably hasn't been this coherent in a while.
Johannes nods slowly as he listens to Dante's tale. "I'm truly sorry fer yer loss, Dante, from the bottom o' my cup to the bottom o' my heart. I can' pretend to know the pain ye're sufferin'." Johannes shakes his head in sympathy with Dante.
"But drink's not meant t' be easin' yer sorrows. It's th' wrong tool fer the job. Ya wouldn' try t' beat a sword inta shape with a pair o' tongs, would ya? Drink's fer makin' merry, but a man drownin' in it is no good fer anyone. But Cayden ain' called the Drunken Hero fer nothin', and hasn't left ye without recourse. Me friends an' I, we're gonna help ye find that proof ye be needin' ta let go, one way 'r th' other. All I need from ye is to lay off the sauce. Can ye be doin' tha', Dante?"
Dante looks down at it his mug, thinking for a moment.
"I...it will be hard. But I'll try. I'll do the best I can, if that will get me some answers. And praise to Cayden for them."
After that, Dante falls somewhat quiet, the ghosts of pain looming in his eyes. Clearly, he has much to think about.
What would you like to do?
Lys's demeanor softens by increments as she listens to the exchange between Johannes and Dante until she can't help but to feel equal parts compassion and pity for this man who's lost so much. "Would you like us to see you home?" she asks in a way she hopes doesn't sound like Can we trust you to be alright here on your own?
Dante stands, and casts a look down at his empty mug. The look is easily readable, full of pain and shame and desire all at once. He meets your eyes, Ilysaria, and you can see the conflict, but he shakes his head.
"I thank you, but I reckon I have enough sense to get myself home. Come find me when...well, when you have something to tell me."
And he goes, telling you where to find his dwelling.
What do you all do?
Lys watches Dante leave, and after the man is clear of the tavern, she gives a weary sigh and reclines back in her chair, looking like a queen lounging on a divan despite the less than regal setting. She briefly makes eye contact with Jian before canting her head toward the now empty seat, indicating he should rejoin them.
"That was a touching prayer you gave, Johannes," Lys addresses the Caydenite with all sincerity. "You did a great thing today, helping Dante get on the path toward rebuilding his life." A brief pause follows her statement wherein she gives another, shorter sigh.
"But I worry that we've only given him false hope. This Unpleasantness was how many years ago now? Where would we even begin to look for a clue about what happened to his son after so long?"
Jian claps Johannes' shoulder, beaming at the halfling before taking a seat.
"Aye, what Ilysaria said! Well done, my friend. I think we might be able to help that man out. As to Ilysaria's comment, though...I think we do have one lead. Zantus and that mystic woman mentioned some strange lights in Chopper's Isle, and we know that Chopper was responsible for many of the deaths during the Late Unpleasantness, right? Might be there's a link between the two. I've got no better options, anyway."
Lys smirks as Jian joins the pair at the table. Eager to have something to lighten the mood that seems to linger over her after speaking with Dante, Lys takes the opportunity to tease her fellow half-elf when it presents itself. "Is it Ilysaria now? How terribly formal. Here I thought we were on more familiar terms, Jian," she purrs before reaching the short distance across the table to swipe his ale. With a wink, she raises the mug to her lips and takes a swig, only to set it down with a glower a moment later as the conversation shifts back to the previous topic.
Settling back in her chair, Lys mulls over Jian's idea before giving a shrug of her slim shoulders. "I suppose it's the best lead we have at the moment, tenuous as it is," she concedes, sliding the mug back toward Jian. "The way the two spoke about the isle, you'd almost think it was haunted. I hope that's not the case. Ghost hunting isn't exactly a part of my repertoire."
"If that's decided, I'll need to make a few preparations but I'll be ready to leave in, say, an hour?"
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"Not nearly as familiar as I'd like to be," Jian quipped before realizing what he said. He quickly brought his own mug to his lips to hide the flush that was forming, but drank too quickly and ended up half-choking on the ale, coughing and sputtering and cutting a fine figure.
Smooth, Jian. Such a lady-killer.
"That sounds like a good plan. We can kill time until then."
You take your time and prepare your spells. You then set off for Chopper's Isle.
The place is connected to the main land of Sandpoint by a wooden rope bridge. Some of the wood has seen better days, but it's sturdy and safe enough.
The other side of the bridge is home to a small island that is a stark contrast to Sandpoint. Though the town is not nearly as urban as large cities like Magnimar, for a supposed outlying town, it's quite well-developed and civilized. Chopper's Isle, however, is a place where it seems that no one has set foot in years (and that's probably exactly the case). What were once well-worn paths have become strangled by the encroaching brush, and it becomes difficult for you (save for Jian) to pick your way through. Eventually, after perhaps forty-five minutes of this drudgery, you come to what once may have been a nice cottage.
The burned-out remnants of this once quaint cottage sag beneath a growing tangle of weeds and vines, the charred timbers and collapsed slate roof show signs of having once been intricately decorated in pastoral scenes of birds in flight. You can even make out a ruined pigeon coop amidst the detritus.
Go ahead and give me some Perception checks, gang.
Lys's usually self-assured smirk takes on an uncharacteristically bashful quality after Jian's admission. Curiously, she finds herself at a loss for coy comebacks. Choosing instead to follow his lead and pretend she didn't hear that, Lys says, "Well then, I will come find you two in an hour."
Ilysaria spends a few moments setting her dress to rights once they finally emerge from the veritable jungle that's sprung up on the abandoned isle. Only once that's settled does she finally direct her keen gaze toward the dilapidated cottage, making a quiet sound of surprised recognition after spotting the carvings of the birds in flight. "I've heard tell that before he became known as "The Chopper", Jervis Stoot was famous locally for carving birds into buildings around town. Back then, having one of his little acts of artistic vandalism on your storefront was all the rage. I doubt you'll still find any left on the buildings in town today, though." After sharing that bit of gossip, Lys shakes her head, a little sadly. "It's always the eccentric ones."
As Dante exits stage left, Johannes sighs heavily, freshly burdened with a holy quest.
"Thanks, Lys," he says. "But it weren't no bluster. Cayden did send me here, and the Drunken Hero always sees a quest through to the end. Jian's right, and don' go thinkin' it's jus' co-incidence tha' Chopper's Isle's been actin' up. An hour soun's good. I got me some prayers to be offerin' in the mean time."
With that perception roll, you notice more than a few things.
First of all, there is some loose debris, but you can see that beneath it there appears to be some sort of a trap door or hatch.
In one of the corners, you can see a dusty but otherwise serviceable set of woodcarving tools. Upon inspecting them, you can tell that they are of masterwork quality.
Jian, you notice both those things as well.
Ilysaria, you also notice, near the area leading to the loose debris, there is a cunningly concealed pit trap. You can attempt to disarm it, but you also think you know exactly where it will be set off if you merely want to avoid it.
Finally, since you asked (and rolled well), you do notice something peculiar. Most of the older, more worn carvings of the birds seem to be relatively normal, mostly sparrows in flight. More recent carvings, however, have slight but disturbing differences. Their eyes and beaks are crueler, their talons longer and sharper, and they resemble corvids more than sparrows.
What do you all do?
Lys is about to point out the hidden door when she spies the pit trap. "Careful! It looks like there's a trap, just here." She moves a few feet from the edge of the pit in order to better point it out. "We can go around it, but I think it's best to deal with it now lest one of Sandpoint's more intrepid citizens accidentally stumbles into it." Turning to her nimble-fingered halfling companion, she asks, "Johannes, care to do the honors?"
Taking a moment to more carefully study the carvings while Johannes (presumably) works on the trap, Lys frowns slightly as she notices the artistic shift from beautiful and inspiring to bleak and ominous. "What so you make of these by the way? Shelynite experiencing a crisis of faith?" she asks idly.
Jian scratches his chin.
"Honestly, I've no notion. Most of my religious knowledge comes in the form of pushups and spinning hook kicks. My order reveres Irori, who preaches perfection of the self. We didn't spend a lot of time on the iconography of other faiths. But, hey, at least I had enough book-learning to know that 'iconography' means, right?"
Jian walked over to Ilysaria, getting next to her to better look at the carvings.
"From what you said, though, he was no devotee of Shelyn or any other of the goodly Gods. Are any of the...less positively inclined divinities associated with these sorts of birds?"
Jian's self-deprecating remark draws a small smile from Lys. "'Perfection of the self', huh?" she asks, giving the strapping half-elf a critical once-over as he moves to stand next to her. Then, she a shrugs and returns her attention to the bird carvings that continue to defy explanation. "You must be pretty righteous as far as your order is concerned, then." She lets the compliment linger for a few moments before saying with a growing smirk, "Although not as righteous as I would be, if I were an Iroran. Luckily for you, I'm too much of a hedonist to live such an ascetic lifestyle."
As she considers Jian's question, Lys sways gently with the breeze that blows in from Sandpoint Bay, the movement bringing her bare shoulder into contact with Jian's arm every now and again. Eventually, she admits, "I can't say for certain. I'm not much of a religious scholar myself." Nevertheless, she continues to plumb the depths of her hazy memories of seminary. As she does, she half-turns in the direction of Johannes, calling over her shoulder, "How are you coming along with that trap, handsome?"
Johannes takes his cue and sets to working on the trap, but his attention is redirected to the bird carvings. Looking up, he lets his fingers work the trap unseen while he takes a gander. He smirks and rolls his eyes as his companions begin flirting, but he startles when Lys suddenly turns her attention back on him. "Oh! I, uh, it's comin' along. You two finished talkin' 'bout birds an' bees?" Inwardly, he winces at his slip of the tongue.
Johannes, the pit trap is simple to disable, and you are able to do so. The way to the portal that Ilysaria noticed is clear. Checking it reveals no further traps, and it is not locked. Do you open it?
Jian smirks, deciding for once to just go with it.
"You know, a philosophy isn't worth anything if it goes unchallenged. Maybe you should show me some of this hedonism one day. Just so I can decide for myself that fasting and meditation are the way to go, you understand."
As Johannes disarms the trap, he springs over to the halfling, clapping him on the shoulder warmly and deciding to ignore Johannes' jibe...mostly because he had no idea how to respond.
"Great work as always, my friend!"
Ilysaria returns Jian's smirk and inclines her head in agreement with his reasoning. "But of course. What better way to challenge yourself than by trying everything at least once? You never know what you might find to be to your tastes."
Unlike the other half-elf, Lys has no qualms about addressing Johannes's comment, which she does after a quiet huff of amusement. "Be thankful we were only talking about it," she tells the halfling as she sidles up next to the two. "If you had taken any longer disabling that thing, I might have given our sheltered friend here a demonstration next," she says offhandedly, trying to keep a straight face as she does.
As she waits for one of the two men to take the lead, Lys retrieves the everburning torch she found at Thistletop from her satchel. "I guess the only way forward is down. Shall we?"
Jian opens the passage, happy to have something to do to hide the blush that was creeping onto his cheeks.
Every time he thought he was becoming more worldly, Ilysaria said something to remind him that he still had a long way to go.
And then, there was part of him that couldn't help but muse about that demonstration...
Well. Thoughts for a different time.
You open the passage and, thanks to the everburning torch, some light extends downward. It seems that you have revealed a set of stairs leading down. Do you descend?
Jian descends.
A steep and winding staircase leads down into a dark antechamber, with walls of hewn stone decorated haphazardly in primitive paintings of vicious birds. Two stone doors, each bearing a strange symbol that resembles a seven-pointed star, stand closed on the eastern and western
walls. The room is dominated by a looming, man-shaped wooden statue, with legs and talons of a giant eagle, two sets of eagle wings, a twisted, gem-studded avian head, and a snake in place of genitals.
Ilysaria, with your previous rolls, you know that there is a Demon Lord that is associated with avians, and it's one whose name is dangerous to invoke; you have no doubt that you stand in front of a statue of Pazuzu.
What do you do?
Jian stops, listening. A shiver runs down his spine.
"So...this is a bad place, I think. This is a very bad place. Sobbing laughter and snake-crotch bird-person statue? I don't like it. Johannes, want to look at these doors and decide which one will open the Hellmouth?"
Jian is only half-joking.
Johannes grimaces, suitably disturbed by the chamber. The strange disembodied sounds don't help matters. "'s more the Abyss than Hell, innit? Now I been far and wide in my time, but in all my days I ain't never seen as much demon-worhippin' as all this. It's enough ta make a person wonder if'n there's somethin' ain't right 'bout Sandpoint..." Though he tries to make light of the situation, he skulks about carefully, held bent a little lower and eyes constantly darting about.
Leaving his companions to examine the profane statue, he checks each of the doors. "Weird star symbol," he mutters to himself.
Johannes, you notice that the star symbol is the same as the one you saw on the door to Malfeshnekor's lair in Thistletop. It's also the same symbol that's on Jian's medallion.
Neiter of the doors seem trapped. You also hear the unsettling sobbing/laughing.
"Much as I wish he weren't, Johannes is right. This is a statue of a Demon Lord, and one whose name is not uttered without consequence, at that." She suppresses a shudder at the atmosphere beneath the isle, but only just. The intermittent sounds of crying and laughter do nothing to ease her nerves, but the feel of her whip's sturdy handle grasped tightly in her palm certainly does.
"Everything so far seems connected to this symbol," Lys notes, nodding to the seven-pointed star on the nearest door. She eyes Jian, or more specifically the medallion around his neck. "We should see if we can't find someone who knows what it means once we get back to Sandpoint," Lys suggests as she begins to carefully unwind her whip in preparation for what horrors may lie ahead.
"All clear," says Johannes, kneeled by the western door. "Be ready," he warns. Once the others have prepared themselves, he pushes on the door, gritting his teeth in expectation of the grinding rumble of stone on stone.
The room door opens, stone sliding together in exactly the manner you anticipated, Johannes. By the light of Ilysaria's torch, you see a hallway connect to a larger room, one that fills you with horror.
This room is a ghastly scene. The entire wall is covered in small alcoves although only half are filled with numerous pairs of eyeballs and humanoid tongues, remarkably preserved in jars filled with a greenish liquid. In one corner of the room there is a pedestal with a dusty tome filled with pictures of bird demons. Scattered about the pedestal are similar unbound writings.
What do you do?
Jian swallows, fighting to keep down the bile that threatens to rush out from him.
He extends his hand, casting a cantrip to determine if there is anything magical in the room.
The book and writings detect as magic, Jian. You detect a faint aura of Necromancy.
Jian does point out the tome to his companions.
Curiosity rapidly gives way to revulsion once Lys recognizes just what she's staring at in the strange green jars. Her fair skin pales even further and she fights to maintain her composure as nausea steals over her. Unable to tolerate the macabre display any longer, Lys quickly diverts her eyes toward the floor. She uses that opportunity to scan the loose papers she finds scattered there, hoping that there might be mention of his victims in them. Gods forbid they would have to bring Dante to the Isle to try and identify his son's remains.
Ilysaria, you don't find any sort of labeling system. However, looking at the size of the organs in the jars, none of them seem quite small enough to have come from a child.
"I'm not seeing anything helpful in here," Lys bites out, thoroughly sickened by the depravity of allegedly divine beings and the twisted souls that sought to worship them. That such vileness could be found just under the surface of a sleepy little town on the Varisian coast somehow made it all the more troubling. What evil could possibly be influencing the townsfolk to commit such atrocities? And how long before its influence spread past Sandpoint's borders?
As disturbed by the new questions as she is by their findings, Lys unconsciously wraps her free arm around herself in an attempt at comfort. "Are we done? If I have to stay in this room much longer, I might add my own eyes to this horrible collection just so I don't have to look at it anymore."
There's probably a line in there somewhere about beautiful eyes, but Jian is far too horrified at the moment to keep up the flirtatious banter. Seeing Ilysaria so upset, however, he does move over to the Calistrian, placing a hand softly on her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.
"There's some magic in that book. I can't sort it out. I'm not keen on whatever secrets it might entail, you understand, but it might be dangerous to just leave it here...assuming we leave this place intact. To be honest, once we fulfill our objective here, I'm more than okay with burning this foulness out."
A ghost of a smile flickers across Lys's face as the warmth from Jian's hand chases away the chill she feels standing in that horrible room. She turns to look up at the man and her lips part slightly when she notices how close the move brings their faces. She slowly leans into his touch as she raises herself up on the tips of her toes, intending to brush her lips against the much taller half-elf's. But then Lys feels the stares from the dozens of gruesomely displayed eyes on her and the moment, if ever it existed, quickly passes.
The priestess rocks back on her heels, putting an arm's length of distance in-between her and Jian again. She clears her throat delicately, then, in response to Jian's earlier idea of setting fire to the vile shrine, says softly, "I would like that."
Raising her voice slightly, she asks, "Have you found anything, Johannes?"
Jian shivers, quite unable to process what just occurred. Any other time...
But now, it was hard to feel anything beyond the layer of revulsion that lay upon him.