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"I think I understand why you're here. You're here to prove that Nocticula isn't evil, deep down. But I don't want you marching in here with us thinking that the Abyss is some great place if you happen to agree with its ideals. That it only sucks for those paladin-types. We had a cultist try to tell me that "the Abyss is a place of transcendence" while we were talking her out of being a cultist, as if I don't understand what the Abyss is like." A bit of sour feeling has begun to creep into Xanderghul's tone, but he takes a deep breath and tries to push it down. How is it that Hinagiku always spoke to people? Neutrally. Making someone feel like you are attacking them is not the way to convince them of anything. "But, listen... it sucks. And the Worldwound sucks. And we - Valaria and I and the others - we will protect you... but that doesn't mean you won't have to be careful."
Realizing that he's starting to sound just about exactly like how he always sounds, he tries to backtrack. "I'm not here to convince you not to come, or try to deride you in any way," he says, somewhat hurriedly. "I'm just wanting to warn you that your expectations of what you might find will be challenged, and not always in a way that will be pleasant. You ought to steel yourself for that."
He gestures at the sky ahead of them. "And maybe I wanted to gaze at this with someone else that would appreciate it." He falls silent, waiting for her reply.
Nurah sounds more angry and bitter than someone speaking from conviction. Deep down, she's really just afraid.
Ayavah stiffens when he begins, having expected some sort of lecture coming from Xanderghul when they came up here alone....certainly it wasn't to make out. But as he continues she starts to relax, realizing that he wasn't just going to talk down to her.
"Okay. I'll be careful," she says, with a small smile. "I mean I'm not that clueless. There's cultists and demons and monsters here, yeah? That's why I needed to tag along with a crusader group. And I know finding a succubus might be a long-shot. But I don't know where else to look... and I needed to do something. I have dreams, sometimes, urging me to come here. Maybe they're from my goddess."
She lays back on the ground, staring at the sky. "Yeah. It's beautiful."
Ayavah enjoys the sky in silence for a little while before asking, "So, you've been in the Abyss? Have you been to Alushinyrra?"
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Isilme listens to the halfling's lament that there was no hope in the aftermath of the death of Aroden. Her words seemed truthful in a way that she suspected little that Nurah had said before ever was. Thinking back, she recalled the feelings that had overwhelmed her in the aftermath of the battle with Minagho, if it could even be called that. It had been more than she could handle. The sense of imprisonment, the complete loss of freedom she had suffered had overwhelmed her. In all honesty she had been afraid, terrified that there would be no return to what she once was, that there was no hope. Isilme sighs, recalling the torment she had suffered, her face clearly betraying the pain she had felt all those years.
"I knew that feeling once, Nurah. There was a time when I cursed my fate, cursed my own goddess. I, a faithful servant of the Song of Spheres, cursed her name in my despair. I had no hope, and lived day to day for nothing more than vengeance against the slight that had been dealt to me. Despite this I am here today, moving forward. Listen closely, for I made this mistake myself: Hope is not an ethereal light shining down upon us from the heavens. Hope is the exercise of free-will in service of achieving our dreams."
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He holds up one finger. "I was born in the Sea of Whispering Sands, which is ruled by Aldinach, the demon lord of thirst and deserts. The Sea of Whispering Sands is the site of a constant interplanar war between Aldinach and his sister, so I constantly had to avoid or run from massive inter-demon battles there. I slept in caves and gulches when I could sleep, I ate poisonous scorpions and cacti and I did nothing but try to leave."
He holds up a second finger. "I found a muddy oasis after not too long spent in the Sea, and the oasis' water patch had an underwater tunnel which led to the Undersump. I would return to the Undersump several times over my life in the Abyss, but my first time there lasted five hundred years. I even started a little mushroom farm in a little shack I built in a corner there, but I was chased out by angry swamp demons who wanted what I had."
He holds up a third finger. "My flight from the Undersump took me into the sewer system of Ghahazi, the Abyssal realm of Xoveron, demon lord of ruins. Ghahazi is an immense, ruined metropolis ruled over by gargoyles and wrecker demons, but it has a lot of hidden corners and abandoned buildings, so I lived there for a time. I ventured back to the Undersump for water and for plant matter, but eventually I had a small network of homes that I could rotate between to increase my safety and a good supply of mushrooms. Besides that, you can actually eat gargoyle, which is something that you can't say for any demon."
"Well, eventually something noticed me. While I was sleeping, an ulkreth smashed in the wall of one of my hidey-holes and some gargoyles dragged me away to an Abyssal prison. I lost my spellbook, and I rotted there for a long time. At least they fed me and gave me water every few days, even if it was poisoned or rotten. I only escaped when do-gooder archons attacked the city, trying to rescue somebody important or other. I ran out into the city and hid, trying to make a plan for what to do next, when I ran into one of the archons. The attack had, of course, failed. The archon had found the same hidey-hole I had, and he gave me this scar." he fingers the scar that crosses his eye.
"Well, not being a demon, he teamed up with me for awhile. He was the one who told me about places other than the Abyss, and gave me the idea to escape. We traveled to Vantian, and afterwards to the Cathedral Thelemic," he holds up a fourth and fifth finger, "...the realms of Sifkesh and of Socothbenoth. Both urban metropolises decidedly less aggressive than some other demonic realms, but filled with dangers of other sorts. In those places we attacked or snuck into demonic strongholds and searched for information. It was in Cathedral Thelemic that we found it, but the archon was captured. I escaped courtesy of invisibility, and I joined a cult of Socothbenoth while I was there to blend in. See, Socothbenoth had information on Deskari's planned invasion of the Material Plane which happened in 4432. It was a few hundred years off, but if I wanted to be a part of it I would have to find a way to travel to the Rasping Rifts..."
He holds up a sixth and final finger, "...which is where I ultimately ended up. The story of how I got there is a long and boring one, but I joined Deskari's armies and I snuck through the rift that he created with his great scythe. As soon as I could, I turned invisible and I ran. And that's how I got my freedom."
He sits up, turning to Ayavah. "I know you didn't ask to hear any of that. But I wanted to tell you, because I want to explain that the Abyss is not the sort of place where you can do any living. All you can hope for is survival. It's the perfect place to go to if you want to turn into a selfish a&%$#&& like me, a demon, a blood sacrifice or a shattered corpse."
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"Now that's a line I've heard before," Val says softly. "Aroden is dead, the end is nigh, blah, blah, blah. People have been saying that in Cheliax for something like a century now. It's used as an excuse for the fiends to rule there too. And I get why it works. People are terrified of not knowing what comes next. Frankly, I like to take the opposite approach. Not knowing what comes next means you can make whatever comes next whatever you want. You don't have to be afraid of the future if you're making your own. So what if we don't know how to close the Worldwound? We'll figure it out at some point, but only if we keep moving forward. If we sit down and give up, then of course we're doomed. That's exactly why we won't."
Ayavah listens to Xanderghul's story silently. When he comes to his conclusion, she shrugs. "From what I understand, the Abyss is what its rulers make of it... each realm is a reflection of its master. And there are a lot of truly horrific creatures there, making the Abyss into an awful place. Even here, in the Worldwound - people say its the Abyss come to Golarion, but thats not right... its a reflection of Deskari's Abyss."
"I believe, truly, that my Lady is trying to rise above all of that. That what she ultimately seeks is to be free of her compulsions, and free to make her own choices."
"But, I'm sorry you had to go through all that. Did your parents just abandon you, out there? That's horrible..."
Nurah lays down on the bedroll provided for her. "I appreciate your optimism, but I don't know if there's anything in written history that compares to this... I mean, oral mythos, sure - the Age of Darkness, the coming of Rovagug...." she trails off.
"When I first met your group, I asked you to tell me your stories. I enjoyed them, truly. A group of disparate men and women, turning the tides at Kenabres just as all hope seems lost... how epic! But there have been a number of epic tales for the Crusades, and those stories always end the same way." She watches the glowing ioun stone float in a lazy circle above her head like an infant's mobile. "I suppose my only regret is that I won't be alive to write about it."
When Ayavah asks about his parents, he lets out a small chuckle. "Oh no, I don't have parents. I just..." he tousles his own hair, but it is so wiry and greasy that it doesn't do much, "...woke up like this." he grins. "Seriously, I was spawned, not born. From everything I've been able to glean, spawned by some Thassilonian mage who wanted to cheat the afterlife."
He then asks her, "What about you? I heard something about your parents being devil-binders? What's that story?"
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"The ley is my connection to the world. So since everything in the world is connected... I suppose it is my connection to all of you as well." He grins sheepishly, but his mouth straightens again as he listens to her concerns.
"I have felt that pain as well, Hinagiku. It is the reason that I am here. And if the Worldwound is what stands in the way of your enlightenment, then it seems to me that your path is set."
Ehren listens in, surprised by how frank Nurah is being now that she has been captured. She did not sound at all like the other cultists they'd encountered in the past, whom were varying shades of desperate and insane. It almost made him wonder whether she truly believed in Deskari at all - it sounded more like she didn't believe in anything.
"Your only regret?" he asks finally, twisting his staff self-consciously. "Is there nothing in this world that you think is worth preserving? That is worth fighting for?" He shakes his head slowly. "I will never understand how it is so easy to succumb to this sense of inevitability."
Hinagiku's lifts her eyes to the ceiling, trying to make sense of the last comment Nurah had made to her.
"I meant that you could save our lives right now if you were willing to share what you know about Drezen and its defenses. You said there was no hope for us to win. But you could give us hope to live one more month rather than one more week, you have to knowledge to help. Why not share it?"
After Ehren interjects, Hinagiku lays a gentle hand on his shoulder to calm him down. And, seeing the halfling open up a bit, speaks to her once more.
"Truthfully, I do not understand miss Nurah. You say that there is no hope, that all there is left is to flee to find a place for a better life... but you have remained here, why?"
Ayavah shrugs. "Yeah, I know. Belief in an unaccepted truth isn't ever going to be convenient...and neither is living apart from those who surround you. My faith is what makes such a belief and such a life bearable."
Ayavah frowns, not really comprehending what Xanderghul was talking about, being spawned - but Valaria trusted him, and therefore, so did she.
"Hm, so, you of all people should be able to emphasize with not being able to control the circumstances of your birth. I didn't know stuff could spawn in the Abyss that wasn't either a demon or some other sort of monster... no offense."
Finally, on the subject of her parents - "Well, they weren't summoners, per se. My family is Chelish, and wealthy.. you know, old money, and making contracts with devils in Cheliax is just part of life in the upper-class. I don't really know what became of them, we haven't spoken in ages. I started showing signs of being a sorceress as a child, so for awhile I was told that I would be able to use my powers to elevate them to great things... When it became clear I was a tiefling, as a teen, my family shunned me... you see, my parents were squandering their inheritance with some very poor business decisions, and people started making up rumors that my mother slept with a devil to try and regain their wealth through my talents. I was an outcast, and I was miserable."
"My parents ended up shipping me off to boarding school - an art's college - just to keep me as far away as possible. I got the hint, and once I graduated, I left Cheliax to make my way as an artist. I moved to Magnimar, in Varisia...there I joined a number of cults... Chucaro, Arshea, but when I came upon the Cult of the Redeemer Queen it was like I finally found a home."
Nurah thinks for a moment on Ehren's question, then shrugs. "No, not really. I don't fight for things that don't fight for me. Not anymore."
She glances at Hinagiku. "Hm. I suppose I was given a job to do, and I was good at it, and others acknowledged that... for the first time in my life."
"I suppose I could share information about Drezen... but...why? Honestly, dying to Vhane and his forces would be a merciful end compared to losing to, say, Zuhra Aponavicius. I'm doing you a favor."
---
Once the sun sets, Ary loans Ehren her muleback cords and he shapeshifts into an enormous heron - a dark grey bird as tall as a tree. Normally they would ask Captain Alkalson for help, but instead of helping them by drawing a map, he snaps irritably - "If we'd just go with the army to reclaim Vilareth in the first place, this wouldn't be a problem, now would it?" - so the heroes end up having to consult with one of his subordinates instead.
Map squares are 20' squares.
The fort is a walled community surrounded by a 20' tall palisade of tree trunks, upended and carved to a point. Beyond this security there is only wilderness. The West Sellen River flows to the west, at a depth low enough to be easily forded. Tall trees and endless thickets of holly bushes cover the surrounding terrain. There are no farms or outlying buildings affiliated with the fort.
A1, Gatehouse: Just outside the walls of Fort Vilareth is a small building. The gatehouse is openable by men posted on top of it.
A2, Stables
A3, Keep: The only stone building in the fortress, the keep is two stories. The first floor contains a meeting hall, armory and storage rooms. The second floor has a private meeting hall, barracks for high-ranking officials, a commander center, and Captain Alkalson's quarters.
A4, Barracks - contains bunk beds for the additional soldiers at Vilareth, filled with bunk beds, a fire place, and some tables and chairs. The door into the structure was kept locked at night.
A5, Watchtowers: These watch towers are each 30' tall.
A6, Mess Hall: Also contains lodging for any guests to the fort, the top floor is essentially a small inn.
A7, Quartermaster: A lodging area for the fort's quartermaster and where regularly used items (arrows, potions, etc) are stored. Occasionally traveling merchants would come here to try and peddle wares.
A8, Church of Iomedae - A small shrine to Iomedae with a belltower.
A9, Blacksmith - Vilareth's blacksmith is a man named Partik Kinbond, who runs the forge with his two sons, Tan and Kan. The three smiths are with your army currently. Partik mainly worked on horseshoes, nails, arrowheads, swords and shields.
A10, Warehouse - This large, two-story building is the main storage center for food and other goods that the fort needs. The top floor also contains lodging for the civilians who live at Vilareth.
Valaria rides on Ehren's back, while Xanderghul and Isilme cling to his enormous legs. The flight to Vilareth would have normally taken 2 days with the army, but atop Ehren, it takes barely over an hour.
They can see the fortress in the distance... flickering lights are visible in the three watchtowers as well as in the gatehouse. It is too far away to tell more than that. A thick blanket of snow covers the ground.
----
Hinagiku finds Chaleb and Olen slacking off in the camp. With the march suspended temporarily, there wasn't much for the crusaders to do other than rotate through watch duty.
Altel isn't with them. Olen sports a nasty black eye.
The trip was long, and the air up high was exceedingly cold. Still, it was a new experience to soar through the night sky clasped to the leg of a gigantic bird. As they went she pondered the current situation back at the camp, as well as what they needed to accomplish in the coming raid. If they could leave the demons at Fort Vilareth on edge, and repeat the raids for the next few nights, perhaps they could keep them from scouting properly.
Knowing they needed to discuss the plans in detail before they risked the infiltration, she brings it up. "It would be ideal if we could convince them that an assault is likely coming in the next few days. Apart from taking the supplies, we need to leave them confused and suspecting that we are weakening them for the coming assault. I was thinking we might conjure an illusory encampment a ways outside the fortress to bait them out. Using confusion on groups in the guard towers could be effective at causing issues within the fort itself as well. Ideas?" she asks the others through her magic.
When Ayavah and Xan get back, assuming that there's no declarations or hatred or tears, Val gives the wizard a thankful smile and gathers her gear to take on the raid. She advises the other tiefling to stick close to Ary if any of the affected soldiers give her grief and promises to come back in one piece before heading off with the others.
Riding on the back of a giant bird is not something she's ever done before, but it's definitely an experience to try to put to words when she has a chance. Or perhaps poetry. "I like the idea, but perhaps we should save it for after we've made the raid. We need to be careful not to get them to increase the guard or start raising defenses if they think they might be under attack. It seems like there are two places where we might be able to get inside. One is from the northeast between the quartermaster's and the chapel. The largest gap between the guard towers is there, so we might be able to get over the wall completely out of sight. But that also means we'll have to cross most of the camp to get to our target and that's a lot of ground to cover. The other is circling around to the south and trying to get over the wall right next to the warehouse where the food should be. But that also puts us right smack dab between the gatehouse and one of the towers without buildings between us to provide cover. We could also try to bluff our way past the gates, but I don't know if we can pull that off again."
In the preparation for the raid, Xanderghul reconsiders his own involvement. As exciting as all this was, clinging to the leg of a huge bird wasn't one of those things that was exactly on his bucket list. Still... he supposes he must, for the good of the group. Where would they be without him?
As they disembark near the area of the fort, he ponders. "Well, I still have one invisibility spell, and Isilme is capable of the spell as well. Ehren, do you have enough... uh, ley energy? to turn into animals twice more? Because if you change into a small enough bird, we don't need to make you invisible."
"If it's an emergency, I can just make all of us invisible all at once, but I'm not sure if there's any babau or schir around." He ponders some more. "I could also remain outside the camp, creating illusory distractions for the guards while you sneak in. In fact, it might be best if Ehren and I remain outside... Isilme, do you know dancing lights? We could devise a dancing lights code that you could use to signal if you need various kinds of help. If you are discovered, Ehren and I could just mount a full-on magical attack to draw guards away from you."
Ehren flies about as gracefully as can be expected of a laden, tree-sized bird. If it were daytime the heron would be impossible to miss, but fortunately they had the cover of night. After a painfully awkward landing, the druid shifts back into his human form. He tugs on Ary's muleback cords, thankful for the extra strength they granted him.
"That was the first shape I changed into today, so I can do it a few more times before our return trip," Ehren replies, rolling his shoulders around.
"I'm wary of poking the hornet's nest. I feel that it would better to leave them with the impression that we aren't coming at all. If their guard is lax, then they certainly aren't planning to move out any time soon."
Xanderghul nods. "I agree - we shouldn't make any more noise or trouble than we need to. However, I think that if we need to, then we bring it."
"Given the size of the forces present, I worry that if we do not cause a distraction to begin with, drawing their attention will leave us in a worse position. The schir and brimoraks will not be able to resist taking the bait if done properly, freeing us to sneak by the far less competent cultists," she says to Ehren as they alight upon the ground. "I cannot think of a task Xanderghul is more suited for than getting their goats." she says with a grin.
Still, with both Xanderghul and Ehren against the idea, she hesitated. Certainly, Xanderghul's ability cause things to vanish was far superior to her own, and with it they would likely be able to infiltrate with significantly more ease. Still, the reason to come here had been less about the supplies and more about leaving their foes confused. Perhaps they could rile up the demons on the way out, she thinks briefly. "What do you think, Val?"
Xanderghul raises his eyebrows. "Basing a plan on how you expect others to behave is foolishness. We know the situation now, and we know how we can interact with it."
"If we want to try a distraction, we need to do a pilot distraction first. You three can flee, and I can create an illusion of something Isilme thinks will draw the schir and brimoraks out. Then we see what happens. If it works, we can wait an hour or two and do it again. How's that?"
Thinking about the situation at hand more clearly now that they are on the ground, Isilme carefully considers the plan the others had suggested. "As the mockery of free-will they are, demons are unsurprisingly creatures of habit. Basing a plan on how demons are expected to behave is quite effective. Nevertheless, perhaps you all are right. I do not believe we can rely on the scale for levitate, as the cloud it creates is fairly obvious, but if we were to enter the base using your superior invisibility, I could use Nurah's scroll of dimension door to grant us egress directly back here. That would eliminate almost all the issues involved in infiltrating the base. In addition, if I take your hat of disguise along, we can attempt to talk our way out of any situations that might arise while we are looting their supplies."
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"The gold matches your gilded leaves, Rocky." Ary says with a small smile, her first mention of his newly found plunder - and the results of their appearance together. "Come back safe." She then goes on to go check on the youngest of their prisoners first, and make certain that his recovery was going adequately. She also takes the opportunity to pilfer two books from their captured scribing supplies along with some ink and a quill. Nothing of magic-writing quality, simply a new journal.
"You know, a lot of people don't know as much about me as they think they do. They know all about my father's side, and most, if they know anything at all, avoid the topic of my mother. Which... in some ways, makes sense. It's hard to look at a tragedy. They tend to forget that there's a person under all that tragedy, or maybe empathize just a little too much and freeze at all the wrong times." she says, taking her time with the stories. There'd be plenty of time for full stories in the next few days. "The same went for my big sister. Those who even know about her existence pretty much erased her from it. For all the people who talk about Erica, not one has ever mentioned Ellie. Guess they're the folks who can look over the shoulders of tragedy." she says with a small shrug.
"The best that I can piece together is that the demons wanted to hurt my family really badly. So they targeted my mother, since my father was too strong. They were wrong, of course. My mother was incredibly strong. If stories are to be believed she was something special even before she came to the Worldwound. A well-known skald, unusually delicate for someone so far north, but a survivor. I guess 'Survivor' is the name we give for people who don't quite ever grow past their tragedy. Or that we can only see the tragedy when we look at them."
She pauses, pulling one of the two books from below her arm and moves to slide it through the small window, followed by the ink and the quill. "Erica was always a fighter, but we didn't always quite get along. Really, I was my father's child, and Ellie was hers, now that I've had enough time to think about it. Whether mom considered Ellie her mistake or her treasure varied by the day. She was always so... hard on Ellie. Ellie wasn't as good at being good as I was. That sort of happens when you're born different, though. So mom always did her best - and sometimes fell short - of teaching her to do things the right way. Patience was key for my sister, or so that's what my father always said when we'd go out hunting, leaving them behind. I wasn't old enough to realize how unfair it all was. At the end of the day, she was just a little girl, same as me. Several years older, but the teenage years would only make things harder for most, even without the abyss lurking in their veins." Ary says, wistful smile breaking slightly.
"I'm getting ahead of myself, though. I'm not quite as good with these things as Isilme or Val. I may never be. What little I can pick up about my mother says that she came from a land with no demons to fight in this war. And she didn't so much do it for herself, or the world. Originally, she'd done it for her people. It was just what they do. They go out, they fight, they come back, they tell stories. The good ones become famous on a small scale. Dad always said if he hadn't walked into her life, she'd have really been something. I think he always blamed himself, and I think maybe she always knew he did. I didn't, because they always made sure I never really knew. I knew that Ellie was special - beautiful - in ways that I wasn't. She was passionate about so much, and strong, and wild. All I really ever had going for me was 'good'. Which, I guess it was more accurate to say, 'good at following rules'."
She pauses for a moment, "So, back where my mom comes from, bards are called skalds, and they serve a sort of different purpose. Most of our artists and singers and dancers around here like to create. But skalds mostly like to do. A bard writes stories about things that could be, about things that are. A skald tells stories about things that will be, about things they will create. To be a skald is to do, to be a bard is to observe. No insult intended to you or Isilme or Val. Hell, Val is more of a skald, really, when I think about it. Nearly every tale she's ever told is something where she was doing. She's never really shared many stories where someone else was the one doing everything."
She pauses for a moment again, trying to catch exactly where she was going with the story. Maybe it was more that she just wanted to share with the little halfling now that they really knew who the other was. It was only fair that Ary tell the halfling more of who she really was.
"Pretty much everyone knows about the fire. About my father never being found. About Faith being returned to the church. But they always forget that they never found my mother or my sister. They... just don't get talked about. Because, in some ways, they're 'mistakes' of the Crusades. A failure to adequately protect. Or at least, on the face of things, that's the easiest way to present them, so that's what they do. Ellie was never meant to be, and Erica was never meant to stop doing. But she was, and she did."
"Anyway. Mom was somewhere between a skald and a bard in one way: she was a sort of seer. Meant for something more. Always listened to the signs and portents and all that. Down here in the south, we tend to believe that all the prophecies are over. But up there, they're an every day thing. A prophecy can save our life... or in mom's case, can guide you to be a hero." she pauses, seeing if Nurah is still listening, as she slides back into her comfortable nook against the wall. She felt so... odd. Without the strength afforded her by the cords she'd bought back at the beginning of their war, she felt infinitely more human. Without the bag filled with their tools, she felt almost naked. But the two combined to leave her infinitely more aware of her armor than she'd ever been since receiving it.
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"That sounds like a perfectly functional plan so long as we don't have some unreasonable amount of bad luck. Which of course means that we're going to have to be ready for everything to got to hell as soon as we get within a hundred feet of the fort."
"I would rather not have a dozen fireballs thrown at us," Ehren remarks dryly, before nodding along with Isilme's plan. He still somewhat disagreed with her point about demons, however. If demonkind were universally so foolish and predictable, this war would not have lasted as long as it has. "Let's take what we came for, and more only if the opportunity presents itself."
Hinagiku slowly approaches Chaleb and Olen and silently nods at them once they take notice of her.
”Is everything alright? ” she gently asks once she comes within a few feet of them. Although she already had a good idea of the answer, she wanted to make sure that nothing overly bad was going on, the condemned were already discontent with their situation, adding to it might lead to issues if left unchecked. ”Do you have any idea where Altel is gone?”
Xanderghul nods. "Because of the brimoraks, a battle against the enemies will be a worst-case scenario, and we need to take advantage of cover and darkness as best we can." he says. "And I agree that we shouldn't press our luck. There's a lot of them and only four of us. We do what we came here to do - resupply."
Nurah is laying on the bedroll when Ary arrives. When she starts talking, she turns her head and opens her eyes, watching her facial features carefully in the steady light of Isilme's ioun stone. For all the flaws Nurah had, she was still ever the good listener.
As she starts to really expand upon her personal story, Nurah's fingers twitch, reaching reflexively for her book and quill, only to find that they aren't there. A grimace breaks her carefully maintained expressionless face, and she exhales with frustration.
When Ary finishes her story, she comments in a detached, academic tone, "The kellids have skalds, also. They're far more common among their people than true bards."
But then she perks up, sounding curious, "How did your parents meet?"
"Dunno where Altel is, prolly picking dumb fights with someone else," Olen grumbles.
Chaleb smirks. "You're just sore I had to peel 'im off of you." He looks at Hinagiku, appraising her for a moment before saying softly, "I'm glad whatever-this-is, cultist stuff, it didn't get to you."
Xanderghul renders Isilme and Valaria invisible with a spell so potent they can foil the schir scouts. They borrow his rope and grappling hook and set off for the southeastern wall of the fort, close to where they know most of the food at Vilareth is being stored. In doing so they pass by the easternmost watchtower, noticing that it is manned by four brimoraks, the light from their hooves and flaming weapons illuminating the watchtower with a flickering light.
Valaria tosses the grappling hook and rope out onto the top of the wall. Starting about half-way up the wall, the rope abruptly becomes visible.
Thunk! the hook bites into the wood with an audible noise.
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"Where else, but the battlefield?" Ary says with a wry smirk. "It wasn't how they fell in love, mind you. And they weren't quite on the same side. It's funny you should mention that the Kellids also have skalds - because they're significantly more accepting of westerners than Southerners from my understanding." she says with another wry grin. "It's one thing for Crusaders being here, wanting to contain the demons, and build walls and divide up the land by what's strategic and what's not... it's a whole other thing to come here just to be a hero. It's a lot easier of a sell to tell them you're here to fight. I'm not saying it works for everyone, but the common man tends to care a lot more about the fact you want to kill the monster in the cave than that you're there to secure the town. Dad was there to secure the town... and mom was there to kill a monster and find a little Faith."
"I don't remember what town it was - there were far too many back then, that were constantly dipping into and out of Crusader control. One of the ones far to the west, where our power dwindles but along the southern sphere of demonic influence all the same. From dad's perspective, people too stubborn to move outside the ward field, from mom's, people too proud to give up everything they'd worked for. They had a lot of arguments like that. Dad got better at understanding not giving up what we'd worked for when he had something that was his. Erica knew she'd been right all along. That's sort of a running theme."
"Anyway, the Kellids had a god, as it turned out. Not the sort of god you really expect, by any means. Wasn't even a demon, at least not at first. Do you know what a Sphinx is? Cause I only know what mom told me, really. The body of a huge cat, with its eyes and teeth, the wings of a giant bird of prey and the face of a beautiful woman. Well, the Kellids didn't know what one is any better than I do. But they knew it was friendly enough. And as long as they kept bringing it interesting stories and shiny baubles, it was always more than happy to answer questions. And as the most powerful creature in the realm, its word was law."
"But... they didn't move out, and neither did it. Half a century of time in the wound will change even the most stalwart of creatures, or so dad said. The Hound Archons we met are testament to that, I think. That, or maybe it just had it in its head that it really was a god. It started 'culling its herd'. Sometimes baubles weren't pretty enough, or squabbles were too petty. Mom followed a vision to meet that god, dad came to kill it. Either way, it wound up dead. See, it had wiped out a small patrol of Crusaders, they thought there had been a demonic attack, possibly gargoyles, since the bodies had been torn up. No crosses on any of the bodies, but the armor was right. And the soldiers were missing."
"I wish I remembered things better, but regardless, the thing was hoarding Crusader Crosses, and killing anything that was a threat to its herd - real or perceived. That was the first time mom had to kill a god. She still found Faith that day, she just didn't know it, yet. The Kellids hadn't expected a Skald to -kill- their god, though. That's how they wound up on the same side. Everyone's on the same side when there's an angry mob to run from. That wouldn't be the last angry mob in mom's case." Ary says with a grin.
Isilme keeps a close eye and ear as Valaria throws the hook up, checking for signs the hook had been spotted. Once satisfied they haven't been noticed, she begins to head up the rope.
She works her way up to the top and crouches between two of the points of the giant pallisade that made up the wall, waiting for Valaria to climb up as well and switch the direction of the grappling hook so they could lower themselves down. As she does, she continues to scan the area, looking for anyone that might spot them as they are heading down, or who might be coming to investigate the sound from the grappling hook.
Val waits until their cover is firmly in place, then begins to climb up the rope. Once she reaches the top, she nods silently to Isilme and lowers the rope down the other side so they can keep moving.
”I see.” Hinagiku answers to Olen, making her way to his side. ”If you let me look at this, I can heal it.” she continues, motioning as if she is about to reach for the man’s face, but waiting for his agreement before fully proceeding.
”I am glad you two are also alright. This thing is bad for moral. I was actually coming to make sure you were unaffected.” she answers to Chaleb as she is looking over Olen.
Once she is done, Hinagiku steps away from the man.
”You know, I think I should got and look for Altel, just to make sure he hasn’t gotten into more trouble. You want to come with me Mr. Chaleb?” she says as she takes a step toward the rest of the camp.
”An ageless wheel of consumption and renewal… it would seem many people arrive through the truth through different path. Druids and contemplatie monks, far apart yet seeing the same truths behind the universe. Similar, but the monks see this wheel as more ubiquitous, as a cycle that extends from nature to all of existence. Or is it so too for duids?”
Hinagiku’s vulpine ears twitch in misunderstanding following Ehren’s comments on the connection to the ley, but she keeps silent, wondering what made the druid smile.
Finally, Hinagiku remains silent at Ehren’s last comment. She looks to the horizon where the sun is slowly setting, shadows growing longer and the fiery snow slowly turning to shades of gray.
”I was thinking, whenever you find the time or need to relax, I have this herbarium with me, and although it is quite detailed, I would like to know more about some of the flowers. I have been trying to find some of them, but with winter coming, it has been hard, and I am curious as to have a better description of the way they look when they bloom. So, whenever you feel like it, we could talk about those.”
With the ability to see the brimoraks from a far distance due to the light they give off, Xanderghul casts his spell from 250' away from the walls. He can't be too far away because he has to be close enough to help just in case Isilme and Valaria blow it, of course.
He tells them to walk at a steady pace when they part ways, and he begins to count. When he reaches fifty seconds, he casts his illusion - a minor image this time, aural and visual figment. From out in the night, a great swarm of bats flies towards the camp. Just as Isilme and Valaria begin to make their climb, the swarm of bats envelops the watchtower containing the brimoraks, their screeching and flapping disorienting the creatures and blocking their sight of the outside of the watchtower for just a few moments. The swarm is huge, and their passing takes several seconds, but just as soon as it began their passage ends. In the interest of keeping his spells intact, he continues to concentrate on the spell, sending the bats up and out of sight soon, and then having them circle around for awhile.
Thunk! The grappling hook sinks into the wooden wall. As Valaria and Isilme start to climb, Xanderghul finishes his spell - and soon the brimoraks in the nearby watchtower are encompassed in a flurry of bats.
As Isilme and Valaria hit the top of the wall, they see a schir clinging to the top on the other side. He glances around, trying to figure out whatever it was he heard. Unused to being unable to see invisible things, he huffs, cold air condensing in front of his nostrils, unaware that two women are just a few feet away from him.
Now safely on the other side of the wall, Isilme and Valaria are on the rear end of the warehouse building. The two-story building has a number of windows, and is made of wood. There is no door on the rear side of the building. How will the two women approach?
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Nurah grabs the book, ink, and quill without a second thought... but then, thinking better of herself, she murmurs a quick thank you, though she says it in a way that makes it seem like the words taste sour on her lips.
She wets the nib of the quill in her ink and calmly writes on the inside of the book in an elegant script - Nurah Dendiwhar. The care and caution she puts into writing her name seems to be an exception- for she immediately sets into the first page in a furious, nearly illegible scrawl, returning to her usual halfling shorthand script.
"Hm, a sphinx? I thought they only lived in deserts," she says, obviously intrigued.
"Did your mother ever swear the oath of the Crusades? Why did your parents end up leaving Mendev?" she inquires.
Olen smiles when Hinagiku heals his face for him. "Thank you, lady priestess," he says.
Chaleb shrugs. "If you want. I think he's just sulking in his tent. The priests were saying this isn't something you can talk people out of, we just gotta wait for it wear off, or whatever."
Isilme holds her breath when she sees the Schir on the wall near them, focusing on the fact Xanderghul's magic had yet to fail any of them with regards to foiling see invisibility. When it turns away for a moment, she slides off the pallisade wall, gently landing in the snow adjacent to the wall. She then waits for signs that Val has followed, pulls up against the wall out of sight of the schir, and inspects the window quickly to see if it is possible to gain entry from outside without much effort, as well as listening to see if anyone might be inside.
"Let's find a good window so we can get a look inside," Val suggests as softly as she can. "If it's clear, we can try to get in that way."
Isilme listens carefully at the window and doesn't hear anything. She looks up at the window and sees that it isn't designed to be opened at all. The top floor windows can be pulled open... she can clearly see the hinges.
Val takes a moment to pull the grappling hook free and drag it back down to them. It would be far easier to get to the second floor windows that way. She takes aim for a moment, tossing it toward the roof or somewhere on the upper level that looks like it will hold the hook.
Isilme keeps watch as Val works the rope.
Valaria lassos the grappling hook into a small rail around the roof's lip, a gutter to try and siphon rain off the roof, and secures it tightly.
Isilme heads up as soon as Val gets up, knowing Val would be able to open the window lock if it were secured better.
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With the rope securely in place, Val scampers up and checks through the window to make sure that there's no one on the second floor. If it seems clear, Val checks to see if she can open the window then goes for her tools if she can't without a little extra work.
Valaria carefully cracks the window open with the help of her tools. Once she is done, Isilme and herself quickly creep inside.
The top floor of the warehouse is lined with beds and drawers for personal effects. The beds are filled with sleeping cultists, blissfully unaware of the two women in the room. One cultist is awake, sitting upright in her bed. She rubs her eyes sleepily and looks around the room, her gaze going past Isilme and Valaria entirely. Spotting the open window, she frowns, and moves to get out of her bed, though she doesn't awaken the others. She grumbles to herself incoherently.
In the back of the room is a wood stairway that leads down to the ground floor.
Isilme finishes taking the rope and grappling hook into her pack and begins to move towards the door out of the room, working her way around the cultist who was awake and back towards the stairs down. She hoped the cultists and demons hadn't repurposed the warehouse entirely at this point. Hopefully they were lazy enough to keep the supplies here.
Val stays very quiet as they climb into the room. She stops dead for a moment as she notice one of the cultists still awake, but it seems that she doesn't notice their presence. She moves carefully toward the stairs to head down and hopefully find the supplies.
The tiefling woman stands up and trudges over to the open window and closes it, scowling. She then returns to her bed, disappearing underneath the blankets and shivering.
Isilme and Valaria head slowly down the stairs and into a large warehouse. There is no one here. The room is filled with enormous crates as well as barrels, though the lids are easily removable (they are not nailed shut).
You can hear the noise of footsteps creeping around from behind a wall of crates.
"Start now. Investigating." she whispers to Val before heading around the wall of crates to see what was sneaking about.
Isilme walks over to the crates and looks behind them. Creeping around, as quietly as it can manage, is a small brown cat. It stops moving as Isilme gets nearby and starts sniffing the air.. its fur bristles on end as it smells a presence that it does not see nor hear.
Isilme crouches down, smiling at the sight of the cat. She extends her hand to it to allow it to sniff, knowing it would be able to smell her. "Shhh..." she whispers to the feline.
"If you see any dried meat or such, let me know. I believe we may have a new companion for the trip home if we can find something to entice her," she whispers.
She then stands up and quietly walks back towards Val, digging out one of the bags of holding they'd brought along.