"Are you alright, Aaliyah?" Elsbeth asks, sheathing her sword as she approaches the dervish. "You went down hard; do you need additional attention?"
As she speaks and waits for an answer, Elsbeth picks up her lantern for the umpteenth time. "This is getting old," she thinks to herself. "First thing when we get out of here, I'm investing in a hands-free light source."
Aaliyah winces slightly. "I'm. . . fine." Although she's obviously still bleeding a bit from the wound.
Michael nods at Aravashnial . "These statues along the walls -- I've never seen armor styled quite like it." He describes the designs as well as he can convey. "Some of it looks familiar somehow but I can't place it."
Aravashnial looks excited at the descriptions. "The pauldrons, do they have the symbol of Iomedae in the rivets attaching them to the breasplate?" Upon having it confirmed that they do he gasps. "That was a style used heavily in the first crusade! Do you think the Mongrels could truly still be down here? Oh my, what a society they may have created down here." The wonder in his voice is palpable.
There is one other exit from this room, moving forward.
Jens cleans his sword again on the hem of his gambeson, then sheaths it with an angry slam. He rounds on Aaliyah, looming over the small girl with fury in his eyes, before he catches himself and his face softens. "I told you to stay back," he says, placing a firm but gentle hand on her non-wounded shoulder. "You nearly died. I don't think I'm going to have much luck telling you to stay out of battle, am I?" he sighs, shaking his large head. "If you insist on fighting, how about you stick close to me? I've gotten pretty good with this after thirty years," he adds, lifting his shield slightly, "and I should be able to protect you somewhat." He squeezes the girl's shoulder gently. "Think about it, alright?"
Moving again to steady and guide Anevia and Aravashnial, he frowns at the elf. "Do you think it's likely the mongrels have survived? Made their own society? And more importantly, do you think we're likely to find them?" He shifts his wounded arm slightly, wincing at the jolt of pain. Gods, I'm getting old. My Lady, if I'm to die here, don't let it be for nothing.
"And would that be a good or a bad thing?" Michael adds. "From what you described, it didn't sound as if their and our ancestors parted company on the best of terms..."
"Well, let's make sure we're all wearing our best smiles then, shall we?" Elsbeth comments, in a tone somewhere between exasperation and dismissal. "Anyway, we should keep moving." She nods in the direction of the exit, holding her lamp aloft.
Aaliyah grins weakly and holds up the miniature sun from her light spell.
"I suppose so." Aravashnial begins walking with everyone again. "I'm afraid I wouldn't know. I recall the last mention of the mongrels was about oh... perhaps thirty years ago." He rubs his chin absently and then winces in pain. "There was a report from a laborer on the docks who claimed to have seen a blue and green man with the eyes of a lizard scuttling under a dock. Those sent to investigate found no evidence." He continues talking as you enter the next cavern. A small campfire and a well-used bedroll, a long with a few utensils and tools, sits near another cave opening in the far wall of this cavern. The rest of the details are slightly less easy to notice as a dwarf screams some sort of magic which swirls in a white energy over his body before screaming "NO! You can't! I got away! YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO FOLLOW ME!" And moving towards the tunnel opposite you.
Izah:
Jens:
Aaliyah:
Elsbeth:
Anevia:
Aravashnial:
Horgus:
Enemy:
"Wait!" Elsbeth calls. "We're not here to hurt you!"
Michael would normally agree with Elsbeth's sentiments, but something in the Dwarf's panicked exclamation rouses his suspicion. Still... "We wish to talk!" he calls out -- but at the same time he does draw his sword and raise his shield into position just in case the dwarf doesn't feel like talking...
In a quick and hopefully softer murmur to the rest of the party he adds,"If it comes to a fight, try to take him alive - he may have answers."
The dwarf laughs a mad little titter and then throws his hands into the motions of a spell once again, a dagger flashing in one hand as it catches the light. "TALK! TALK! TALK! That work for you?!?" He finishes with a short, curt burst of words in another language and two small missiles of purplish force fly from his fingertips, striking at Elsbeth and Michael painfully.
"He's casting spells? If he attempts a summoning, or something else I can help with, I will stop him." Aravashnial readies himself, one hand raised and the other perched above his spell component pouch, ready to draw.
"Way ahead of you, Vash." Anevia states, her bow pulled to maximum draw and aimed squarely at the dwarf.
"Well... I suppose that leaves... us."[b] Horgus begins gamely, turning a bit pale. [b]"To... charge him?" He grips the shortsword, not seeming to notice that a bit of darkmantle blood has stained his fur collar.
Michael staggers as the missile hits, bleeding heavily but he doesn't go down. "So be it." he replies as he charges the dwarf, sword drawn.
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From the back of the group there is a flash of fiery light as Izah lets out a growl of frustration, flames erupting over the top of his head and down the back of his neck for a brief moment as he raises his shield and mace and strides forward away from Aravashnial and the others. "Enough of this nonsense!" Izah's voice rumbles through the cavern as he pushes past Elsbeth and Aaliyah. As the ifrit advances, he keeps one hand free with his mace dangling at his belt, shield still raised. Though the surface of the shield begins to glow in soft, orange hues that blossom in blotches as he channels his inner flame through the metal.
On reaching Michael, Izah lays one black-armored hand on the knight's shoulder and a sudden, searing sensation tingles through the paladin's body. At first it feels like Izah's swift betrayal, but soon the pain of scalding feels invigorating and refreshing, like alcohol cleansing a wound. It's only then that he hears Izah speaking in the flicking tongue of devils. "Dominus de legibus: 'alias vulneribus tuis sanabo caducae purificationem flamma."
____
"Lord of Laws, heal this frail knight's wounds with your purifying flames."
Aaliyah reluctantly draws her sword, the same mist falling over her eyes as before.
As the missiles hit, Jens roars in anger and charges, shield drawn, heavy boots thundering on the stone. Ducking his shield aside, he brings his sword up before swinging it down, at the dwarf's shoulder.
Elsbeth hisses in pain as the missile impacts her and draws her scimitar and shield, moving forward toward the spellcaster, working with the others to back him into a corner.
"You won't take me back! You won't! YOU WON'T!!" The dwarf screeches, his eyes wild with rage. He tries to step back for a spell and finds that he has nowhere to go to keep away from the blades of his foes, nevertheless he makes an attempt to throw a spell, likely spelling his own doom.
Elsbeth Crit Confirm: For
Elsbeth Miss Chance: No Miss.
Jens: For
Michael: For
Michael Miss Chance: No Miss.
The flashing blade of Elsbeth leaves him on his last legs, but his arms still continue his spells until Michael's blade comes forward with a chilling finality, cutting deeply into the mysterious dwarf's throat and leaving him bleeding badly onto the stone.
"What in the Abyss was that about?" Anevia wonders aloud, stowing her bow across her back. "Do any of you recognize him?"
Michael shakes his head. "I haven't the faintest," he replies, then looks at the others.
"Never seen him in my life," Jens says, shaking his large head. He kneels, cleaning his sword again, then turns the dwarf onto his back, looking closer at his face. His own features furrow into a frown. "He thought we were going to 'take him back'. But where?"
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"It matters not," Izah intones from behind the two men, "he is dead and will not be sharing any secrets with us now." Glowing eyes flicking up and down as he scans the dwarf's body, Izah begins scanning the corpse for signs of magic.
"He has been here for some time, from the state of his attire. He may have a camp nearby, or may not be alone." Brows furrowing the ifrit adds, "We should not linger too long. But first, let me see what other magics this bearded one possessed..."
____________
"Wait!" Elsbeth shouts, gripping her wounds, "I think he might still be alive, and he seemed confused and panicked. We should see if we can save him."
With that, Elsbeth kneels beside him and attempts to put pressure on whichever wound might seem to be bleeding the most.
"Come on!" she shouts, "Don't just stand there everyone, help me!"
Michael nods at Elsbeth. "Either he was confused and frightened, and we'll be able to help him and possibly gain an ally... Or he panicked when he saw us for a reason -- and in that case I would dearly love to know what he felt he had to fear from any survivors of the attack."
With that, he kneels by Elsbeth to try and help her.
The dwarf's pulse is weak but it's still present, but despite Elsbeth, Michael and soon Anevia's best efforts, it's fading fast, you doubt you'll get another attempt to keep him alive.
Elsbeth grits her teeth as she tries in vain to stop the bleeding, her hair accumulating crusts of drying blood from her attempts to keep the sweat out of her eyes with the back of her wrists.
"Does anyone have any healing magic left?" Elsbeth asks in a harried half-shout. "Even just something to stabilize him?"
Aaliyah, calming down only slowly from too many frights this day, finally seems to comprehend what's going on and kneels next to the dwarf, murmuring a prayer to the Dawnflower as his wounds close.
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Izah's silence is answer enough, standing not far behind Michael and watching the dwarf bleeding out from the paladin's blade. When Aaliyah moves in to heal the dwarf that had, up until he was stuffed with steel, been intent on killing her the ifrit's mouth downturns into a frown. Holding his disquiet, the Armiger instead chooses to make a circuit around the body, continuing to survey it for magical auras while the others worry about the life of a stranger.
__________
The cloak the dwarf wears is magical, as are two potions on one side of his belt and two scrolls on the other. Searching the dwarf and his camp finds a dagger, a light crossbow, 10 bolts, a ratty bedroll, a small pack containing dried meat, preserved fruit and moldy cheese (the food in the pack, while a bit gross, should serve as six days of rations), a small marble statuette of a humanoid throwing a spear, 8 platinum pieces, 7 gold pieces, and a spellbook.
The first potion is quickly identified as another potion of healing.
The dwarf's pulse stabilizes as some of his wounds close, though he remains unconscious and seems a long way from recovered.
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Finishing his circuit, Izah kneels down and sets his mace aside, beginning to rifle through the incapacitated dwarf's possessions. Unstoppering one bottle he retrieves from his person, a quick sniff is all it takes to recognize its components. The second is likewise inspected and both held out to Elsbeth. "Healing, and invisibility."
Once those are dispensed with, Izah unclasps the dwarf's cloak and rolls it up, setting it aside from the body. "Magic, likewise, but I lack the ability to properly identify its properties. It could well be what caused him to go mad, for all I know." The scrolls are retrieved as well, unrolled and laid side by side before Izah speaks a rumbling incantation and waves his hands over the inscribed parchment.
Izah claims one of the scrolls, keeping it in his free hand. "This scroll is arcane magic," he notes of the one remaining. "An electricity effect channeled through the hand. It is of no use to me."
Standing up and leaving the other items behind, Izah fastens the scroll case onto his belt, much as the dwarf had been wearing it. "What will you do with our captive?"
___________________
(potion identified)
Visibly disapproving of Izah's interest in identifying the dwarf's possessions while his life hung in the balance, Elsbeth turns her attention to Aaliyah.
"Thanks," she says, "I'm not sure I could have stabilized him on my own." Thinking a moment, she adds, "We should revive him and see if we can learn anything, but it's probably best if we restrain him first, given how panicked he was."
Elsbeth reaches for her backpack, then winces slightly. "Okay, first things first." She retrieves the potion she'd been carrying and drinks it, grunting slightly as her wounds begin to close.
"A bit weaker than I'd hoped, but it'll have to do." With that, she pulls out some rope and begins to carefully bind the dwarf.
Michael nods in thanks at Aaliyah before speaking formally in that musical tongue.
He then fixes Izah with a disapproving glare. "And you're not at all interested in why he seemed to recognize us, or at least our origin? Or why he panicked the moment he did?" He asks.
"Perhaps he wound up here the same way we did, only for the horrors to fracture his mind. If so, he deserves our help if we can give it... But if simple compassion doesn't sway you, think of this. The Wardstones have held against the incursions since the First Crusades without faltering -- yet a single one failed catastrophically without warning on the busiest day of the year? I'm not convinced it was an accident or coincidence... And this fellow may have answers to that question. I'd like to hear them."
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Golden eyes, glowing in the dim light, flick up to Michael from the dwarf's possessions. "Do not forget who mended your injuries," Izah snarls the response out before tempering his tone and expression like hot metal dipped in water. "Do not mistake my pragmatacism for lack of empathy, paladin. We are injured, running low on resources, and in clearly hostile territory. What this dwarf knows is worthless if we do not survive to relay it to our superiors. Whatever possessions he had will engender our future survival more than the ravings of a madman."
Retrieving his mace, leaving the remainder of the items behind for the rest of the group to hand out, Izah stands to his full height slowly. "I shouldn't need to remind you that every minute we spend in these caves, our brothers-in-arms in the Crusade are fighting a battle above." Eyes narrowing, Izah breathes in slowly through his nose and then exhales a slow, calming breath.
"I will not let your sympathy get us killed, nor will I waste one sylable of healing magic on that dwarf. Our resources are thin enough. If Lady Elsbeth and the child wish to expend their resources to tend to his wounds, that is their choice." Satisfied with his answer, Izah looks down at the body and the categorized possessions, then over to Aravashnial, Anevia and Horgus. Without another word, he starts to walk back towards them.
"Lady Gröfum, hlífa mér rökum þeirra," Jens mutters, standing and straightening himself to full height. Staring down Michael, then Izah, in turn, he says, "I would suggest the two of you agree to disagree. I personally doubt the dwarf knows anything of use - he looks as though he's been here too long. I would have left him for dead, but if you," he inclines his head to Elsbeth and Michael, "wish to keep him captive, I will lend him my shield arm as I would either of you.
"Michael, Izah is right, in that we need to get to the surface. If the dwarf attempts to kill us again, we must cut him down and proceed. And Izah, your magic is yours to distribute and yours alone. However, if he becomes an ally, would you not change your mind?"
The large man heaves a sigh, rolling his sword arm, feeling the cut beneath the chainmail. "I am not a leader. I will follow, and I will protect who I can. But I, too, will place our lives above his." He jerks his head slightly toward the dwarf. As he walks back to Anevia and Aravashnial, he mutters, "Ég treysti á Krossfari áður djöfull-guðrækinn alla daga."
"Lady of Graves, spare me their arguing."
"I'll trust a crusader before a devil-worshipper any day."
Elsbeth only half-listens to the poorly-timed philosophical debate happening around her as she deals with what's in front of her. Recognizing that the mysterious dwarf is no longer in imminent danger of death from his wounds, she retrieves a coil of rope from her pack and begins to carefully bind his hands and feet.
Rising to her feet, Elsbeth does her best to wipe the blood from her hands, then addresses the blabbering menfolk.
"Enough!" she shouts harshly, "Regardless of whose philosophy is best, any decision needs to factor in our available resources."
Elsbeth picks up the healing potion from among the dwarf's gear, and continues, "This will replace the healing potion I had to drink a minute ago, and that's all the significant resources I've got. What does everyone else have at this point? Potions? Scrolls? Spells? We've got to stay on top of our inventory, so start calling out what you've got."
Michael has the grace to look somewhat sheepish. "I didn't bring much in the way of gear to the festival -- I wasn't exactly expecting an attack, after all. My arms and armor are pretty much all I've got."
"I have my sword, shield and lance. I haven't checked my pack yet, but I might have rope, torches, and food - tack, dried meat, nothing fancy, but it should hold off hunger. I might be able to find something edible down here, as well, if we need it." Jens chuckles. "Just as well I didn't have time to unload after stabling Alfsigr. I guess she did me some good, after all." At the mention of the horse, he feels a small pang of regret, wondering if she's safe, wherever she is.
Aaliyah looks briefly in her pack. "All I've got left are some dried figs and grapes, and some pitas that have gone dry and stale. But they're still edible. . . "
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Izah's brows furrow at Jens for a moment, but he seems to take the old human's rebuke well enough; there's plenty of sense to be had in it. To the question posed to them all, the ifrit takes a moment to mentally assess his remaining reserves before speaking to their value. "I can call on two more blessings of modest power before I am reduced to parlour tricks. But I am fully capable of joining the front line when that happens, I have several... tricks yet in store for foes that require a direct approach."
Motioning to the scroll cases at his belt, Izah continues. "I am in possession of the scroll we retrieved earlier that would resist environmental hazards related to temperature. There are still the other," he gestures to the cavern floor, "unclaimed scrolls as well."
"Beyond that," Izah arches one brow and looks to the unconscious dwarf, "I am as you see."
Elsbeth stands quietly for several moments, her brow furrowed in thought. Eventually, she speaks.
"Here's what it comes down to." she begins. "We don't know whether the dwarf is friend or foe. If we kill him—or leave him to die; same difference—and he is indeed innocent, then we are all murderers."
"But even aside from that, he could have life-saving information about our predicament or about these caverns regardless of whether he's a potential ally. Throwing away that potential boon would be unwise."
"Finally, if he is in fact innocent, we could add him to our ranks, and increase the odds of survival for all of us."
Elsbeth holds up the last potion of cure light wounds, scans the group, and continues: "When you add it all up, the choice is clear: we need to revive this dwarf and find out more about him."
With that, Elsbeth unstoppers the vial and kneels next to the helpless spellcaster to feed the potion to him.
Michael stands facing the dwarf with one hand on his sword and his very best "Today is not a good time to test my patience" scowl. He wants answers, yes, but they won't come at the cost of danger to his allies.
Elsbeth carefully tilts the vial, pouring the contents into the unconscious dwarf's mouth.
Standing back up, Elsbeth waits to see if he awakens.
Aaliyah is just standing by quietly, listening to the whole thing.