"Reducing armour hinderance?" That seems to catch Jens' attention - his thick eyebrows rise in an expression of interest. "Well, I'm not exactly as nimble as I used to be. That one sounds useful." To the rest of the group, he says, "I don't think I introduced myself earlier. I'm Jens - Jens Varmodsson. I'd introduce Alfsigr, but I don't think she made it down here with me." He glances quickly around the cavern for any sign of her - living or otherwise. "Gods willing, she's still alive up there."
Strapping his shield to his back, he walks over to the blinded elf and lame woman. "In my forty-eight years, I've become rather good at protecting people, including those less able-bodied than myself. We're all going to get out of here - I'll see to it that you do. I've got two arms, so if need be, I can support each of you. But if you're able to move, with aid or without, we should probably start on it." His deep voice is low and gentle, with what he hopes is a reassuring tone.
Once the maggots are disposed of, Voren is able to get back to the task of fixing the lame woman a walking stick and and a splint to help her leg heal in place. She smiles faintly at the tiefling's efforts, and once again as Flynn and Osric offers their own healing services of a more magical kind. But as the warm silvery glow of Iomedae's holy power floods her body, and as both men speak of the Inheritor they faithfully serve, her smile falters, and for a moment her eyes water with some unbidden thought. In an instant she shakes her head, scattering whatever memory had come to mind and restoring her previously calm expression.
"I—" she begins with a croak, and then stops for a moment to take her breath and collect herself. "My name's Anevia... Tirabade." Anevia seems to pause a moment before saying her last name, again struggling with some sadness that she continually squashes back into herself. "Thank you all so much for your help." With Flynn and Jens' assistance, she gets to her feet and tentatively tries putting weight on her injured leg with a wince. "It's better than before, at least," Anevia notes dryly, although the hint of a wry smile clings to the corners of her lips. "Now I'm only half useless, not totally useless!"
Horgus merely snorts at Voren's suggestion that he quieten down. "Tell that dwarf that, why don't you! Look at her, gone off into the dark somewhere, shouting god knows what... I'd make a better scout in my sleep!" Judging by his relative girth, you're fairly sure this is highly unlikely. "Bah! I don't trust you one bit, demon-spawn! You're going to get us all killed, I can tell!" The nobleman continues to keep himself as far from Voren as he can manage it.
"You lot are too weak! You want to get out of here, don't you? Don't let this fiend trick you into believing he's one of the good guys here! None of his kind are! He'll ruin us all!"
Aravashnial allows himself to be led by whoever offers—or else demands that Voren do so if nobody does. He seems reluctant to constantly hold onto anyone else, and as a result very nearly trips over or runs into the back of someone else from time to time as he moves around. "Everyone can hear me fine, right? Have you all got your weapons ready? Get someone at the back to watch us from behind, and maybe you, old man, can take the front to protect m--us."
Those who touch the scales that Voren offers are struck by a flash of insight followed by an emotional rush of sadness tinged with resolute determination. You see yourself in your mind's eye utilising the scale, speaking a word foreign to your ears and summoning forth the power of the scale with a rush of warmth and energy. The lingering sentiments hanging about the scales seems to be fading, for every time the scales change hands Terendelev's final emotions become weaker still.
Aurica pays careful watch down both side-tunnels. She can tell the two routes both seem to lead into small cavernous openings; the southern one is relatively feature-bare, but the northern one seems to have some... garbage or something located there as well. To her trained survivalist eyes, she can faintly make out the edge of what seems to be the stone circle of a long-forgotten campfire.
Aurica moves back into the circle of torchlight, drawn by the sounds of Horgus's words. She sidles up behind the nobleman, placing her feet quietly on the most solid bits of stone she can find.
"Don't reckon I like having the tiefling along more than you do, but if you want to go scoutin', be my guest. I'll wait while you go tell us what's ahead. No? Then shut it. Sir."
Aurica unslings her pack and crouches to rummage inside it. She digs out a finger-sized piece of dark metal with a nick at one end, and a coil of twine. In a few seconds she has the twine looped around the metal, and is holding it up to let the bit of metal dangle freely.
"Right," she says after twenty seconds or so. "North is... roughly that way, if th' Wound ain't messing with the poles, which I can't promise, after that big bang-up today. Everything natural might be twisted. An' the Wound is roughly north and west of us, so my call is go the other gods-damned direction. We got two tunnels goin' east. I can see the southernmost one is empty. North one's got signs of use: looks like an old campfire ring, some debris. South by my lead."
That said, she looks warily at the scales. Only the knowledge that these are Terendelev's last gift bids her reach out a hand. She touches one, and looks deep in thought as the scale reveals its secrets to her. The sense of loss is like another stab in the heart though, and Aurica ducks her head before anyone can see emotion contorting her face once more.
"I'll take this one," she says shortly, and pockets the whispering-wind scale.
"I would listen to her if I was you" - Reknar comments calmly at Horgus' outburst - "And you are quite welcome to strike out on yourself if you'd like - I don't see anyone holding you down" - he stares momentarily at the man - "Now... If that is not the case, then stay silent, and try not to draw everything around for miles on top of us"
Gathering his gear and one of the scales, seeing as the group seems to be making preparations to leave, Reknar sets himself to the grim task of checking if there are any others down there, that were perhaps not so lucky as themselves, and could be trapped or dead under the rubble. Not only that, but he searches among the wreckage for any salvageable gear - Who knows how long we will be trapped in here? - he ponders to himself.
Once he is done with the search, he returns next to Aurica - "Lead the way for us Aurica" - he nods.
He watches as Aurica and Reknar take the scales, nodding and smiling as they do. He then gives Flynn and Jens their chosen scales. He turns to Osric and says, "There's two left. Which one do you want? Levitation or Resistance to electricity or cold?"
When Anevia introduces herself, Voren bows his head. "A pleasure to meet you, Anevia Tirablade." The feminine voice of Ayne fills his head. 'Boy, there was some hesitation for a moment. Use my latent abilities to try and judge why.'
Voren stays silent at Horgus's ramblings, not really caring as he's heard it all before.
Voren steps to Aravashnial and takes the wizard's hand on the non-scorpion occupied, feathered shoulder of his robes. Again, Ayne intones, 'The elf wizard seems incredibly interested in you. I wonder why.'
At Aravashnial's suggestion on weapons, Voren draws his light crossbow and loads a bolt into it, preparing for any assault.
Aravashnial seems curious about you more than anything else. Nothing malicious there, really. Actually... he seems a little annoyed, although not with you.
Horgus spins around as Aurica attempts to sneak up on him, frowning darkly, and doubly so when she brusquely chides him for his complaints. His face is becoming flushed with anger, not unlike a boiling tea kettle that's about to go off.
"Fine! I might as well go off by myself then! You're willing to put your lot in with demons! I'd have a better chance of survival by myself!" Stumbling down the rock pile, Horgus sneers at the group and gestures wildly at Voren. "Don't blame me if he winds up getting you all killed!"
Anevia finally says flatly.
"W-What is it?!" He turns his glare onto the injured woman, who returns the look with an even stare of her own.
"How many exits are there from here?"
"Well... two."
"And how many torches do you have?"
"... None."
"So, if you go down the one we don't, how do you propose you see?"
"... ... ..." Seems like the nobleman hadn't thought that one through. "Hrmph! Fine! I guess I have no choice! But I'll be watching you, demon!" As always, Horgus interposes the rest of the party between himself and Voren. Anevia sighs and rolls her eyes at his antics. Aravashnial simply urges the group to continue.
At Anevia's hesitation, Voren gently says, "It's okay. You don't need to hold your emotions in. We're here for you."
While walking, Voren turns his head to his charge. "Aravashnial, may I ask why you're so interested in me?"
At Horgus's raving, Voren just stares deadpanned at the noble. He sighs and rolls his eyes with Anevia, but says nothing.
"Who's carryin' that torch?" Aurica asks brusquely. "Half of us need our hands free for weaponry."
Unhappily, she comes to the personal conclusion that Voren may be the one with the least need for a free hand, but she doesn't say that thought aloud.
"But I'll go ahead. Don't need the light to see my way, and I'll try for quiet, if there's aught that don't already know we're here."
Aurica is aware her own shouting didn't help things in that regard. It's something to be ashamed of, her outburst, but she's not going to dwell on it right now.
As soon as everyone is on their feet, Aurica sets out down the southern tunnel, attempting to move quietly.
Osric turns to Voren.
"I suppose the scale that offers resistance would be suitable. Thank you."
"I can keep a single light spell active as well. For now, I'll illuminate my holy symbol. But if you need light up ahead Aurica, send a message back and one I can help. And you'll have your hands free to use that bow."
Noticing the need for a torch, Voren decides to put the bolt and crossbow away. "I can carry the torch. All I have for weapons are a light crossbow and a dagger." He takes the torch in his hand. He stays near the front, guiding Aravashnial, holding the torch and keeping an eye out. Ayne does the same.
The group begins to hobble off towards the southern passage, Aurica sneaking ahead to make sure the way is safe for them. Horgus' complaints have softened to a quiet mutter, although he frequently shoots glares at Voren and Reknar (and would probably do the same to Aurica if he had any idea where she was).
Anevia looks sharply at Voren when he offers her what he imagines is sympathy, and she roughly shakes her head. "No," she says firmly. "We need to focus. I need to believe that... that everyone is still alive. And that's all there is to it." She grits her teeth and continues to hobble along behind the group, doing her best to keep a sharp eye out as she goes as well, cradling a shortbow in her left hand as she goes.
"Not that I have many arrows left," Anevia adds, louder this time for the rest of the group to hear--the quiver strapped to her back has but four arrows remaining, "but if you need my assistance in any way... let me know. I think I have a few alchemical items that might not have broken in the fall, and I've got a few decent lockpicks in my pocket as well."
Horgus mutters something about good-for-nothing thieves under his breath, and Anevia's brows knit in response, but she decides to not press the issue.
Aravashnial "looks" at Voren (or, well, the space sort of to the left of his head) and cocks his head somewhat. "What an odd question. Why, you're living evidence that the Worldwound is having an effect on children being born even outside its borders! It's a theory I've had for some time," he adds, obviously proud of this fact, "but I've been able to locate precious little evidence of it in general. Most would assume that the parents have made pacts with demons or whatnot, but I think that the Worldwound is acting like a very powerful desecration-type effect in general."
Horgus snorts derisively from nearby. "Who would believe any of your crackpot theories, you nutbag? They're nearly always totally wrong!"
"Not wrong, simply lacking in refinement and proof," the elf protests. "Genius is something that few without the gift can understand," he laments with a light sigh.
----------
Meanwhile, Aurica, on the business side of things, sneaks ahead to investigate what's up ahead. The short tunnel opens up into a small 'bubble'-like cavern, barely much more than fifteen feet in diameter. A stone ledge juts out at a right angle on the southern wall here, roughly fourteen feet off the ground. Her keen dwarven eyes catch sight of a leather strap hanging down from the edge of the ledge, attached well as what looks to be some kind of small saddlebag or backpack. Up above, a narrow fissure about a quarter your girth yawns up into the darkness.
"Don't need no light," Aurica says doggedly to Osric's offer. "Keep it with your own selves."
***
Aurica sticks her head back into the main cavern, since really there's almost no tunnel to speak of separating the rooms.
"Dead end at ground level. Got a ledge with a maybe-passage leadin' on. Gonna climb to it and see what's down that. If it's too skinny, we take the other passage. There's a backpack here though... got that fire-ring, the pack... someone uses these tunnels."
She digs a rope tied to a grappling hook out of her pack, and makes a careful throw to hook it on the ledge, rather than attempt the leather strap.
Aurica peers warily down into the fissure when she clambers up onto the ledge.
Only when she's sure there's nothing ready to try and rip off their faces does she turn her attention to the pack-- lowering it down to the others by the rope, so that one of them can poke around in it and see what it holds. She doesn't want to be rummaging through gear when bats eat her face, or something.
"See what we got there."
The backpack is one of those well-made standard-make military-issue backpacks that the majority of the crusaders wear, with tonnes of buckles and compartments and slots to hold much more stuff than what might be apparent at first glance. Inside is enough dry jerky and trail mix to last a single person ten days all bundled up in a sachet, a flint and steel, two flasks of oil, a set of caltrops, a bundle of twelve arrows, and two potions - one in each of the side pockets. One is a minty-fresh green, while the other is a thick and sludgy tangerine.
Reknar acknowledges Aurica's information, and stands watch down below as she climbs up the rope.
Voren winces as Aravashnial explains his theories. "Well, I'm not sure how useful I'll be to your research. Ummm..." He looks around before whispering into the elf's ear. "Can I trust you with a secret?"
Hearing Aurica's scouting report, Voren nods. When Aurica lowers the backpack down, Voren says to Aravashnial, "Wait here for a moment." He then grabs the backpack. Looking it over, he says, "Seems to be a well made backpack that the crusaders use. A lot of buckles, slots, and compartments here. Should allow us to carry a bit more than a normal backpack." He then opens it and riffles through the pack. "Let's see... we got dry tack and trail mix in a sachet. Enough to last a person ten days. We also have a flint and steel, two flasks of oil, a bag of caltrops, twelve arrows, and... two potions. Now this is interesting."
He takes a closer look at the potions, his eyebrow raising in interest.
Taking the arrows, he goes to Anevia and says, "Here. Some more arrows for you. Thought you could use them."
Turning to Aurica, he says, "A very nice find. Great job, Aurica." He then hands the backpack to whoever wishes to carry it and returns to his place next to Aravashnial.
Taking the Scale from Voren, Flynn tucks it into his belt.
All this arguing is making us very noticeable to the denizens of this place. I need to calm things down some if I can, Though I feel their pain. Io and Baraak need me. I can feel it.
Following along at the back of the group, Flynn will drop back by the grumbling 'Nobleman'.
" Listen ...Horgus, was it? Things aren't as we would wish them to be....But we must work together to get back to the surface, understand?"
He tries to peer at the man. Then changes his mind and digs a sunrod out of his pack and ignites it.
" So, in the interest of all of us surviving, I'll make you a deal. I will do my utmost to see that you are protected, AT NO CHARGE. In return, I would like you to try to be more quiet and cooperative. I'm not asking you to trust anyone, by all means keep your eyes open and watch peoples actions. Agreed?"
" Would you like to hold the light?"
The feeling of loss sweeps over Jens, Terendelev's final emotions mixed with his own. Deselde, Zuri, Solveig, Alfsigr - faces and voices fill his mind; those he loved; those he'd never met. The dragon's loss. His own loss. He can't even tell the difference - until he tucks the scale into his tunic, and the feeling subsides.
He ignores most of the bickering as the group progresses, helping Anevia alonbg as best he can. When she mentions how few arrows she has left, he feels around briefly at his back - relieved to find that his quiver of arrows made it intact. When Voren hands her the bundle of twelve, he nods to his quiver, adding, "There's twenty more there if you need them. I favour the sword, myself." He glances to the tiefling. "What are the potions?"
Voren turns to Jens. He holds up the mint green potion. "This is a potion of cure light wounds." He then holds up the tangerine potion. "This one, on the other hand, I'm really not sure."
Aurica peers up at the fissure above, but there's not much up there to see. It looks similar to the ceiling in the cave you woke up in, in some ways--the stone appears to have been ripped apart and then roughly shoved back together, leaving a few gaps in places like this where the two sides weren't matched up properly. The fissure seems to taper off and then seal up completely before the edge of her darkvision; it's not likely to be a valid route of escape, in any case.
Aravashnial responds to Voren's almost conspiratorial tone with excitement. "Of course, of course! But if you're telling secrets, I'm sure everyone else here would hear them...?"
Anevia is quite happy to receive the arrows, thanking Voren and Jens with a smile as she unbundles the ammunition and slips them into her quiver for easy access. "Excellent," she grins. "I'll still need to be conservative with my shots, but this will certainly help. Thanks, guys."
Horgus snorts at Flynn's offer, his arms firmly crossed. "I will not carry anything," he declares defiantly, "but I will take up your 'offer' to make sure this filth doesn't kill us all. You're lucky I don't have my sword with me, demon!"
Aurica continues scouting ahead. Shortly beyond the cavern she found the backpack in, the tunnel splits off in three; one route back from whence she came, one route through to the small cave with the ruins of a campfire therein, and one route ahead into... well, yet another cave.
From this angle, she can see that the smaller cavern to her left most certainly once served as a lair or campsite for some creature in the past. A torn bedroll lies next to the cold remains of the fire, and a pile of bones, broken equipment, and rubble lies just past the campsite.
She hears a strange rustling noise from within the pile of garbage, and can occasionally see an insectoid antennae poke out from beneath it. Hmm...
Aurica holds a moment, bow raised and readied if the owner of the antennae emerges from the trash. If it doesn't burst out within a few seconds, she wil pick her way back to the group.
"Looks like that other passage meets up, up ahead. There's some debris in it, and something's inside it. Looks like a bug of some sort. Movin'. We could come at it, some from this side, some from the main room."
Voren nods at Aravashnial. "Of course. When we get to the surface, I'll explain."
At Anevia's thanks, Voren smiles and says, "You're welcome. Anything to help."
Voren stays silent at Horgus's rambling, though he does pull Flynn aside, away from Horgus. He whispers, trying not to let Horgus hear him, "I haven't had much experience with humans and the like. But does this mean he's not paying you or he's not paying all of us?"
At Aurica's report, Voren nods. "All right. Who's going to be in which group? Should someone stay here to protect the others? If so, who?"
Nothing happens as Aurica remains still and quiet, watching the trash pile. Whatever insects lurk in this room are not interested in her just yet. That said, she is fairly sure they are aware of her, if their antennae "tasting" the air in her direction on a regular basis is anything to go by.
"suit yourself, Horgus. I'll not bicker with you about it. Just remember, you can gather more flies with honey then vinager."
Flynn shakes his head in disappointment, but trudges along in the vicinity of the rabid noble.
Willingly allowing himself to be pulled aside by Voren, he replies" Sadly enough, I've seen his type before. I'm fairly certain he would find a way not to pay, regardless. Something like it wasn't in writing, or shaken or spit on. No actual deal made or some such. But to answer you truthfully, I meant that I would protect him for free. I cannot speak for the others anyway. Nor would I."
After hearing Aurica's report..."I am willing to go with either side. Though I prefer flat stable ground if possible. Never have I been light on my feet. "
"I can stay with the wounded," Jens offers. "I've spent three decades defending others." He nods to his old, battered shield. "Someone has to do it, and I'd lay down my life for another."
You know you will have to try and defuse this sooner or later - Reknar ponders, as he is forced to listen to yet another tirade from Horgus - You can always slip, and shove him down a gorge - he chuckles to himself.
"Lets do this then Aurica - since you are the most silent moving of us, perhaps you could get into position on the other side of whatever creature it is, then give us the 'go' sign when we can move in - perhaps using that scale? We can draw its attention, and you will be able to engage it with your arrows once it is trying to lay us down? " - Reknar offers.
"Or were you planning on surrounding it in melee, for the tactical advantage?"
"I'm better with this bow than with my club or knife, but I can certainly help where needed. Maybe there's a way to draw the creature out? If Aurica and I slip around behind, we could shoot at it unimpeded while Flynn and Reknar engage it up close, perhaps. Or the other way around. I'm just not skilled at shooting around bodies."
Voren makes a suggestion. "I could try and put the bug to sleep. Then you guys could attack it without worry of it retaliation."
" Ahh....I'd rather .. Ah.. Not kill something while it was asleep.... Surrounding it with a larger force is bad enough. Tho most demon types are stronger than normal people and numbers become a balance." Flynn fidgets as he prepares for combat.
Aurica gives Flynn a look.
"....it's a bug," she says flatly. "There's honor, and there's stupid."
Her tone makes it clear which she thinks he's advocating at the moment. Her displeased gaze settles on Voren next.
There'd been a wizard with the Route Patrol, a half-elf. His magic had helped in a bind many a time. If you took out the red skin and obvious evil blood, there's similarities, she supposes: not wearin' no armor, lightly armed, got a little animal that sticks close.... so Demon-boy's a wizard, most likely. Great.
And, as Torthil had often defensively explained, wizardry had its limits.
"Thought wizards couldn't make dumb bugs fall asleep," she says suspiciously. Everything she says to Voren will be some form of 'suspiciously', most likely. "Somethin' 'bout them not havin' no minds to get sleepy."
She does nod at Osric and Reknar, though. "Osric with me, Reknar and whoever else comes from the main room, I'll use that scale once we're in position."
Aurica puts two-and-two together: a bug with long, brown antennae in a pile of garbage? Probably a cockroach. A big one. She's probably experienced the pests before, as everyone has, because they're damn impossible to eradicate and persist far longer than they really should do. They don't drown, they can keep on moving even with half their bloody limbs cut off, and do that awful awful thing where they climb walls and then fly into your face at night... well, okay, this would be more like "flying into your face and biting it off" because these ones are the size of a cattle dog. Oh, and Aurica's right--there's no way Voren would be able to put it to sleep. The only thing they really dislike is bright light.
The two groups move into position, and soon enough, the main group receives a whispering message from Aurica in the shape of a faint and translucent silvery dragon. With weapons at the ready in the face of danger, the group advances...
The three giant roaches are ready for you, and as soon as Flynn takes a step forward towards their nest, they burst out from beneath their refuse pile, greedily clicking their filth-slicked mandibles.
Initiative: Flynn | Cockroaches | Aurica | Voren | Jens | Reknar | Osric
Hearing Aurica's comments, Voren says, "Flynn, I'm going to side with Aurica. It's just a bug." However, her comment about being unable to put the creature to sleep makes him ponder. 'Is she right, Ayne?' The feminine voice responds, 'Shouldn't you know your own hex, boy?' The witch responds with, 'I haven't had the opportunity to use it. I don't know what it can do.'
Hearing the plan, Voren switches the torch to his left and drawing his dagger with his right hand, resisting the urge to use his tail.
"Just a bug, is an assumption. It may be more, who are we to judge? But none the less I will fight this foe. Just not while it is sleeping."
Shaking his head, Flynn will move up to fight, dropping the sunrod at his feet. He then takes a firm grip on his shield and swings his flail.
" 's a cockroach," Aurica mutters in disgust, but doesn't otherwise waste words, hurrying to get into position. She gives Osric a glance, then lets him go ahead of her if he would like to-- he's better armored than she is, she thinks.
Initiative: Cockroaches | Aurica | Voren | Jens | Reknar | Osric | Flynn*
* Subsequent round
Status
Giant Cockroach (Blue): 8 damageOOC
Flynn - your attack bonus is +3! 2 for Strength, 1 for BAB. :P
Flynn's flail flies fl... flabulously? through the empty air just above the roach's abdomen and slams down on it with a sickening crunch. If not for his martial training, he surely would've missed that hit. Icky green gooey stuff that must be its innards splatter everywhere, but the cockroach keeps on kickin'!
Two of them try their hand at counterattacking Flynn - nibble nibble nibble - but their pathetic clacking is more a scare tactic than anything. They're going to have to do a lot better than that to get through scale mail. Heck, even Aurica's hide - for she's the target of the third, being slightly closer than Flynn - seems impervious to their hungry must-consume-all-things zerg-like ways.
No room for bow after all. Aurica switches it to her offhand and yanks her axe from her belt with her right, and steps in to try and give Osric a cleaner shot.
Her swing misses.
Looking at his knife, Voren drops it to the ground. He then gives the torch to Reknar. He draws out his light crossbow. He then unwraps his spaded tipped tail from around his waist. It then comes out of his robes and dips into the pouch where he keeps his bolts. It wraps around one of the bolts and pulls it out. He then moves nearer to the wall to see if he can take a straighter shot. He yells out, "Flynn! Give me a straight shot!"
Jens stands by his charges, shield drawn. Shadows from the torchlight flicker across its face, the boss gleaming dully, the painted death-spiral faded to a dull lilac. He stands ready, on the off-chance that one of the bugs got through.
"I'll try!"
"Dang, I can't move" - Reknar roars in the close quarters - "You boys should have waited out here, and let them come to us - just dumb bugs after all"
"I have no free hands mate" - the man comments to Voren, squeezing forward, focusing his arcane power on his weapon, and trying to get a hit on the roach fighting Flynn.