"That is..." Irabeth says, breathlessly. "The Sword of Valor!" she whispers, in an awed tone. She glances where Ehren is looking, and frowns. "Okay. It will take me a minute to get there...I'll call for cover from the Sunrise Sword and..."
Hua Xing clutches the bleeding wound in his side, his keen eyes flitting from the banner in Ehren's hands, to the pole past the rubble on the wall and widening slightly in understanding. "No," Hua Xing says, raising a hand to silence her. "I can get it there. Fast. Please. Here?" He raises his arms out to Ehren to accept the banner.
Ehren is up!
Ehren frowns when Hua Xing offers to take the banner to the pole. He has witnessed firsthand just how quick and nimble the monk could be; there is no doubt that he could get it there within seconds. Even so, having met him not so long ago, he was not entirely certain that he trusted him, especially with something so important.
The druid glances at Irabeth, and then at the raging battle going on. It needed to end, and soon. Hinagiku seemed to think highly of her fellow student. And yet, if there was demonic trickery afoot...
"...All right. Here," Ehren says as he hesitantly hands over the banner, taking the leap of faith.
Hua Xing nods, grasping the cloth and darting up the rubble nimbly, ignoring the pain from his many wounds. Irabeth follows slowly behind him, and just as she reaches the top of the rubble, Hua Xing raises his arms, draping the banner over the metal rod somewhat crookedly. Despite the imperfect display, upon being hung up on the wall the banner itself seems to transform. The sword-cross at its center seems to glow as the thick dust and dirt coating it simply vanishes.
All over the city now, demons look at one another in fear as they realize their teleportation magic has been cut off to them. Even Eustoyriax, his claws deep in his dying prey, pauses for a moment and tilts his head back to look at the ceiling. The many faces on his body stop crying, scowling, screaming, to all stare upwards in unison, mouths agape.
Something imperceptible happens within Castle Drezen, but it is clear to all within that Iomedae's protection has been restored to the city. The heroes can feel its sacred magic washing over them, imparting in each of them certain gifts....
Congratulations! The heroes are now Tier 3.
"For Victory! For the Heart!" cries Captain Vica, the tall elven paladin towering head and shoulders over her own men. "Soldiers! To me! Drive these scum back into the Abyss from whence they came!"
"Weialala!" screams out Indisy in response with her own yodeling warcry, charging her war-dog into a pack of babaus, spear-first.
All around, the demons, realizing they cannot hope to escape, fight desperately for their lives against the renewed vigor of the crusaders. To Ehren's left, the vrock cleaves its massive axe into Jorsal's armor. His plate prevents him from being cut in half, but the impact from the blow was still considerable.... the Garundi man falls to the floor, unconscious. Shu Lien strikes the vulture-headed demon again and again, fingers spread like claws, her eyes wide and feral and her face streaked with streams of sweat and blood. The vrock turns to her and bats her away with an enormous, greasy wing, but then from behind, the young crusader cries out and swings his sword at the vrock's neck. The young man beheads the demon, and the monster melts away into a pile of ichor and feathers. Concerned, he moves over to Jorsal and channels what little divine magic he has left into his chest with one hand, ripping coarse vines from his face and neck with the other. Jorsal sputters and coughs awake, and gives the young man a smile.
"...Pallisard was it? Good job, lad... but we cannot rest now. The fight isn't done. Not yet."
Round 12
Meanwhile, far below the earth... the tables have turned on the mythic invidiak.
Hinagiku, Isilme, Valaria, Ayavah, Anevia and Xanderghul are up!
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As the wave of energy washes through Drezen, some of the color returns to Anevia's cheeks, the slightest bit of renewed vigor coming to her. With that renewed vigor came a clear opportunity. For now, Eustoriax was trapped with her, not the other way around, opening him up to the assault of her allies.
As Radiance bites into Eustoriax's form, shredding bits and remnants of the souls that held him together, there is a cracking sound from beside Ary. The glowing holy symbol continues to surge with the light that Ehren had bestowed upon it, but all around the shield was crumbling in her hands. The emerald green began to slough away, and it was only pure instinct that made her grip the shield tighter as her Crusader cross slipped from between herself and the emerald-encrusted grip. Beneath the emerald green was a blood red pool of crystal, sleek and clean, with simple elegant lines, that arched perfectly around the cold iron holy symbol at its center, the wings of the blade that had made the shield into a spiked weapon made clear that the shield belonged to a follower of Iomedae, even as the shards of living steel fell to the floor around her.
As the shortsword falls into Anevia's hand, she immediately drops it, creating a distraction, the Invidiak, thinking it has the upper hand, is ultimately wrong. Certainly, she was grappled, certainly, he was in command here, and certainly, that was her blood all over the floor. But she'd been pinned between two unstoppable forces and shred apart before, at the hands of a mortal dwarf... and she'd come back. Stronger. Now, his grip on her didn't mean much at all, as when the sword clatters to the ground, she's already disappeared from his grasp, drawing her bow from behind Ary, and launching a shot straight through the middle of the group. It was her last trick... but it was a good one.
Hinagiku, Isilme, Valaria, Ayavah, and Xanderghul are up!
Ayavah hurriedly steps behind Xanderghul, trying to keep out of the immediate reach of the demon as he floats in the midst of the party. With so many of her spells already cast, she elects to focus on defending herself rather than trying to flail at the shadow demon.
The wave of holiness seems to wash over the city, even down into the deep dungeons where the party is fighting their shadowy foe. Val could almost hear the cheers of crusaders past as the goddess's blessing was laid over the city once more. Preternatural invigoration seemed to add strength to her limbs and her senses seemed sharpen and her reflexes rose to match. She moved forward in a single step, her knives flashing with accuracy and speed that had been lost to her exhausted limbs moments before, exceeding her limits as she hacked away at the demonic foe.
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Just like the menhirs and the holy power of Iomedae had connected the very earth with the holy righteousness, the wave of power reconnects Hinagiku with her mother. Drawing from this invigorating feeling, Hinagiku fights against her weakened body to come in between Eustoryax and Anevia. She wouldn't let her companion fall without a fight. Stepping around the green shards of faith, Hinagiku comes to side next the Ary, her mind ready, once more, for a battle against their foe.
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Xanderghul was exhausted. Beyond spent, he had been driven to the limits of his endurance weeks ago. A lifetime ago, it had seemed. Only, he had never appeared to be so. At worst, this was a momentary distraction for him. At worst, he was annoyed, or merely inconvenienced.
It was important to maintain the illusion in such cases. And indeed, the illusion persisted: truly, he had been exhausted. He had nothing left but to rely on the strengths of his allies. And they, in their unenduring power, wisdom, clarity, and generosity, had chosen to see Xanderghul at his most vulnerable. They had supported him, alone in the dark when none but they could see.
When he had been possessed, who was at his side?
Who knew better the limits of human isolation and endurance? And now, to be among people that he found he could trust and rely on and who, after being tested, found their strengths to be equal to whatever task faced opposite them?
Xander stands renewed. Pride renewed. Energy renewed.
Inside, a kindling of faith grows, sustained by what had once been cold, barren, unfeeling stone.
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In awe of the holy artifact, it takes the druid a moment to acknowledge the electric sensation that rushes through his body. His eyes dart down to his feet, at first in alarm, but then in fascination, as he comprehends what is happening to him. Seemingly stricken dumb in the midsts of a very dangerous battle, Ehren looks at his hand as though he were seeing it for the very first time, not unlike the day his father reincarnated him. Tiny ribbons of energy arc from finger to finger, not at all the only sign that he is filled to the brim with power unbidden. He could only imagine what kind of power he could summon of his own volition... but that would have to wait. As incredible as the power is, seeing as he has nothing left to channel it into, it would not exactly do him much good.
Before he can further contemplate his capacity, the rallying warcries of the crusaders snap Ehren back to reality. He raises his staff defensively, suddenly aware that he is surrounded by demons, any one of which might decide he is an appetizing target. Not that it would matter in a few moments.
Isilme is up!
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In the moment, watching Anevia clutched in Eustoyriax's claws, Isilme wondered whether they would lose her again for a second time. All she could do was watch and provide what inspiration she could to her allies. Then everything changed.
A surge of energy washed through the room, and time seemed to slow to a crawl. Everything seemed distant now, the scene before her receding into the background. It was replaced by a rush of memories as something awoke in her. Suddenly she was her proper self, ages before she'd met Elan, long before she'd visited Kitharodian Academy. She had just come to Golarion from Elysium for the first time and wandered aimlessly about the forest she'd appeared in. Elysium was beautiful and wild beyond imagining, but Golarion was also beautiful in its own way.
She'd walked through the forest for days, simply exploring. It was there Lleuad-a'r-Sêr had met her first mortal. An elven hunter stumbled upon her and readied her bow, unsure what to make of the tall, androgynous being before her. The elf had called out in warning, but Lleuad-a'r-Sêr simply reached down and pushed the bow aside. The elf was beautiful, and kindled in the Raelis a desire she'd not experienced before. In a flash of desire and intent, Lleuad-a'r-Sêr changed forms, suddenly standing before the elf as an elven maiden herself. Tossing the stunned elf's bow to the ground, she'd leaned in and kissed her forehead, thanking her quietly.
The next few weeks were a joy as Lleuad-a'r-Sêr explored her new form. She'd lived briefly among the elves then, the huntress who had found her having forgotten--thanks to the kiss--her true nature.
Isilme found that the energy surging through her had rekindled that desire. The need to change, to experience new forms and means of life. It welled up within her and suddenly she understood the meaning of 'बेडौल'--without form. It was a part of how the Song of Spheres had created her kind. It wasn't a lack of form, but instead a desire to experience new forms. The same feeling that was the core of her wanderlust, a mirror of the energy that drove the never ending changes in Elysium. It was part of what it meant to be a Raelis, what it had meant to be Lleuad-a'r-Sêr.
When she returned from her brief reverie, she saw the world anew. She knew now how to regain something she'd lost, a piece that had been truly important to her. But more than that, she found the well of power within her renewed, her mind sharpened, and her body toughened by the experience.
Watching the scene resume before her, she speaks up: "That which you just felt was your doom, demon. While you fought us, the Sword of Valor has been returned to its rightful place. Within moments a servant of Iomedae will arrive to aid our armies in finishing the conquest of Drezen. Take heart, demon, you will be dead before then; just another in the long line of those who underestimated us."
Reaching up to her forehead, she traces the rune 'बेडौल', which glows brightly for a moment before fading away. Her form seems to waver, Li'an's body slowly giving way to that of another elven woman, one with longer, flowing hair, paler skin, and softer features.
Valaria cuts into Eustoyriax again and again, making up for her lack of impact with precision and speed. But the reach cinch comes when Anevia simply vanishes from Eustoyriax' grasp, leaving him grasping mid-air. Before he can register what had just happened, she fires once more, her final shot landing square in his center-mass. He screams, just barely holding himself together through sheer force of will. Transforming into a spiraled stream of shadow and the faces of the lost, he surges with one last burst of speed away from the heroes towards the northern wall of the room. Just before hitting the wall he dips down, vanishing into the floor and out of grasp.
Combat Ends!
"I'm guessing that's not going to be the last we see of him," Val says with a tired sigh. The vindictiveness of demons seemed to be one of the constants in the wide variety of foes they'd encountered so far. "But at least we won't have to deal with him teleporting on top of us while we're here in the city."
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Hinagiku had been too focused on her mental preparations to properly engage Eustoryax, until the perfect opening comes. In his fear and frustration the oni leaves itself so very open that Hinagiku takes two quite strikes at it. With her hands still glowing from holy energy, Hinagiku reaches within the the evil mist that is left and, moving her hands in a spherical motion, tries to concentrate it into a ball, before crushing whatever essence she able to grasp into nothingness.
If Hinagiku's last strikes prove unable to kill Eustoryiax as the shadow demon makes its last, desperate chance to escape... Xanderghul has one last trick up his sleeve. Summoning the energy granted to him by Iomedae's holy artifact and his recent awakening, he prepares to tear a hole in the wall, to give his allies one last chance to smite the demon.
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Eustoyriax thinks himself too fast for the heroes, but he fails to realize that Hinagiku's reach is far wider than her small frame would imply. She catches the end of his body and, with a circular motion of her hands, pulls him into her. He screams and struggles, his many faces weeping as he fights to get out of her grasp, but it is all in vain. Finally, a small orb of darkness is all that remains of him, held between her two parallel open palms. She brings her hands together in a forceful clap, and he vanishes once and for all.
With your magically-enhanced vision, you have the ability to see the Bound Horror, who spends the majority of his time invisible. He's not the most entertaining thing to watch. Most of the time he hovers right behind Valaria, close enough to grab her with a moment's notice, and during particularly harrowing moments (such as when the demon was trying to push her into the pit), he'd even perch on her shoulder like some horribly diseased pet cockatoo. During downtime, if he noticed you looking at him, he'd stare back, offering rude gestures or making vulgar or mocking faces.
But as Hinagiku kills Eustoyriax, he abandon's Valaria's side to fly closer and closer still.. and as she squeezes the rest of the life out of him, he makes a gesture as if he was going to reach out and touch her. But at the last moment he stops, as if he thought better of it, and hangs back, his tiny face inscrutable.
Now, he flutters around the room, inspecting the large crystals that adorn the sides of the cavern closely with the aid of his spectacles.
'Ugh, yes,' the Bound Horror replies, though his tone lacks his usual biting cynicism. 'This whole adventure has been tedious and uncomfortable.'
'But, I'm flattered, I didn't know you'd miss me, demon-spawnling. I'll try to liven things up with more snark in the future,' he quickly adds, sounding more like himself.
Ayavah stands next to Valaria, oblivious of her psychic conversation with her abyssal babysitter. She's standing there staring her hands, flexing her fingers. "Feels... strange. I feel different," she mutters. "Could it be....at last?" her fingers trace her bracelet, where she carries a very small, subtle unholy symbol of Nocticula.
"Tch, mortals' lives, wars, civilizations come and go in an instant. My suffering has been, and will be, for a time so vast it is incomprehensible to you, demon-ling." the Bound Horror responds.
After a moment of silence, he adds, in a droll voice. "Do try not to get yourself killed while that awful artifact upstairs is in play. I can't bail you out, not when a goddess has deemed otherwise."
Anevia watches the quasit anxiously with pursed lips. She had noticed it first in the forge-room, after Desna's blessing had made her eyeballs feel tingly and her outline a little blurry, like you were wearing the wrong prescription glasses when you tried to look at her too hard. But they were in such a hurry to, you know, stop the ritual from killing everyone she loved, so she didn't say anything. But now... she had to.
"Mmm, boss," she mutters into message, trying to avoid looking at the strange, be-spectacled little demon creature. "There's a quasit in the room too, but maybe it doesn't see us?"
The Bound Horror overhears her and turns towards Anevia, making a rude gesture with his fingers.
"Oh, nope, nevermind, it definitely sees us. Should I shoot it? Think I'mma shoot it. It's being very rude."
The tiefling sighs and shakes her head. "Did you say something Ayavah? Sorry, I was focusing on something."
Val winces as Anevia's words come through the spell. She knew there was someone who they hadn't actually told about the Horror quite yet. "That's... not necessary." She groans and rubs the bridge of her nose. "He's... not exactly with me but he's not with the demons that are trying to kill us either. It's a very long story that's best shortened by saying that grandma decided I needed a babysitter."
Isilme's transformation completes as Eustoyriax dies. She looks rather pleased with herself as she stretches her arm and then shifts Sana to the other side so she can continue to stretch, feeling out the limits of her new body.
"Excellent work, Anevia, Hinagiku. It would have been troublesome if he'd escaped. I've had enough of vengeful stalker demons for the time being," she says, finishing with a soft chuckle.
"He's gone now, Sana, for good," she says to the girl, still carrying her. Hopefully they'd be able to get her back to Paradise Hill fairly soon. Perhaps there they could provide her some food and a place to rest safely, though she imagined that Sana would not want to be left alone anytime soon.
"We should head back up immediately," she adds, addressing the others. "Ehren and the rest of our troops may need our aid. Plus, to be quite frank, I have no intention of missing a Planetar destroying the demon armies. I doubt any of us has seen such a sight before." Isilme almost grins at the prospect. The entire assault on Drezen would make quite a story, and she intended to compile it into a book as soon as possible. A story this fantastic would have little trouble spreading throughout the inner sea once she got it started.
Isilme sighs as the bound horror comes up. They would need to do something about it sooner or later. At least here in Drezen they might be able to succeed, given it was unable to teleport.
As Eustoriax is being torn asunder for the little fox that steals all the glorious kills, Ary turns her attention back to Sana. "Hey, Pipsqueak." she says with a small smile. "I'm... a little different from how you remember me. I'll explain it to you later... but for now, we have to get back upstairs and get to safety. Sound good?" she keeps her eyes on the little girl until she finishes, looking to Isilme. The same, but different. "Keep her safe, yeah?"
"So... how do we get through the forge room with all of the damage we've taken?" she asks, looking to the casters with questioning eyes. "As for the elephant in the room. I've tried and failed to kill it. I'm not so sure I'll keep putting up with it, even if it is friendly towards Val." she pauses for a moment, "They have a nasty propensity for stealing the souls of their masters when they die."
Without waiting for an answer, she kneels to pick up her Crusader Cross, handing it to Sana as she tightens the straps on Faith, looking the shield over, and catching a glimpse of the celestial on the backplate. Now wasn't the time to be reading. Anevia goes to collect Ehren's wand of Daylight.
Ayavah shrugs at Valaria. "Oh, no, nothing." She wrinkles her nose. "I wish I had a chance to talk to that succubus, though..."
Anevia pulls her eyelid down with one finger and sticks her tongue out at thin air. "Nyaaaah to you too!" she says. She takes Ary and Val's explanation rather well, all things expected (though to be fair, she had grown up with weirder things in Nidal). She simply shrugs. "'kay, whatever you says goes, boss," she says, pulling out a rag from her pack to dab at wounds on her neck and side. Iomedae's grace had sealed the wounds shut, but they still hurt like a sunova. "I agree with Isilme...Buuuuuut....I'm not gonna make it through that hell-furnace-room, not like this."
----
Meanwhile, Sana lays against Isilme's neck, suckling on her thumb - a childish behavior that she never quite outgrew, even at age six. Her bright blue eyes scan the room. "Is Mister X gone?" she asks, softly.
Her eyes flit back to Ary, tracing over the half-drow's features... but as she speaks, her eyes start to light up with recognition. "Ary? Is that you? Ary-ary-ary-ary!" She grasps the cross as it is given to her, her fingers running over the etched braids rendered in fine brass. "Daddy had a cross like this. He showed me, it had a picture of Mommy and me on the back..." Her eyes start to swell up with tears. "Oh.... Daddy..."
Palm still press against each other with the last wisps of smokes emanating from them, Hinagiku surveys the battle one last time to make sure that they are finally alone. Satisfied, she takes a long breath in, only disrupted by the mention of the bound horror... this oni which would not let go of Valaria... one day, one day she would from her companion from this evil influence.
Relaxing her posture, Hinagiku turns to Ary.
"I could go and ask Mr. Vhane if he can help us one last time, or I could also pray to the Master of master to benefit from his healing power."
Xanderghul had let the power build up inside himself in anticipation of Eustoryiax's imminent escape, but then Hinagiku had promptly killed him. All well and good, but now Xanderghul'a skin itched with unreleased power.
When the subject of the forge room comes up, Xanderghul gathers those people who are not yet protected from fire and lays his hands upon them. Raw power transfers from him and resolves into an abjurative field around them. The field gives off a chilly glow, protecting them from fire.
"Let's go."
"Thank you, Xanderghul," she says. The fire resist would certainly come in handy in preventing Sana from being seriously injured going through the forge room.
Isilme begins to head out, her new form and the surging divine strength within her making carrying Sana a much simpler task. Between that and her magic, she has to walk at a fairly slow pace to avoid outrunning the others. When they finally arrive at the forge room, she calls out to see if Jorsal is still around up top.
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Just as the heroes below make it to the forge-room, the horrific heat of the room dampened by Xanderghul and Ayavah's magic, above Irabeth finishes a quick, fervent prayer before the Sword of Valor. Awkwardly bent down on one knee in front of the banner, her sword is drawn and placed before her, the tip of the blade resting on the ground with both of her hands gripping the blade hilt, as the battle between crusader and demon rages below. Behind her, Hua Xing stands in a low battle stance, alert with his hands raised, protecting her in her moment of vulnerability as she did for him.
"My Lady of Valor, Iomedae, Light of the Sword, I call out to you in my hour of need. I lend my voice to the mournful cries of your faithful in this time of darkness and despair. I pray to thee for thy aid, that thy wisdom enlightens me and allows my eyes to perceive some sign that that this path be right, for no mortal being possesses the foresight to sense where such a path will end."
"Iomedae I trust in thy guidance; here now upon the brink of catastrophe you stand with us as you did during the Second Battle of Encarthan. By your example here do we fight, by your courage here do we hold, and by your will do we warriors here stand defiant against the horde of the Abyss. In the name of Iomedae the Inheritor and in the name of all righteous Powers of the Heavens above, let the will of Deskari be denied!" At this she stands up in one graceful swoop, raising her sword and pressing the point against that of the sword on the banner. The banner responds to her plea, shining with blinding light. The sunburst explodes outwards from the two swords, washing over the room and forcing all to shield their faces from its sheer brilliance.
The light fades, allowing the soldiers to see a beautiful woman in golden full plate with white, feathered wings floating in the center of the room, her enormous wings beating softly. She has long, flowing white hair, though her face exhibits the striking, angular features of the Chelish. In her right hand is a flaming longsword, in her left, a long, unfurled scroll covered in intricate celestial script that nearly reaches the ground. She stands a full eight feet tall and around her head is a brilliant golden halo in the same shape as the beams of light that surround the Sword-Cross of Iomedae.
All around the soldiers and demons pause in their fight to stare, open-mouthed at the sight of the celestial being before them. Even Shu Lien's eyes are wide in amazement as she stares at the planetar above. The angel stares down at the demons coldly, and raises her left hand, her gaze as sharp as a knife's edge. The writing on her scroll turns gold and glowing, a color and light matched by her eyes. She opens her mouth and breathes one word - and a singular celestial rune appears above her -
Light explodes out from the Word across the room, causing the very foundations of the citadel to tremble from its might. As the light vanishes, the demons stand, paralyzed for a moment.... then all turn to dust, crumbling away as ash.
Her work here done, she glides down from the ceiling gracefully before Irabeth, Hua Xing, and Ehren. She speaks to each in turn. Her voice is deep and husky. "Chevalier Irabeth Tirablade of the Eagle's Watch. ハドイの興の4人目の息子. Archdruid of Sarkoris. I am Saint Lymirin. My blade is yours. Where shall we strike next?"
"Fourth son of Xing of Ha Doi."
Saint* Lymirin was a crusader of the First Crusade who was stationed near Drezen. A crusader-warrior that was seemingly born for a time that needed of warriors. She had no patience for cruelty, injustice, or evil, and was known to wade hastily into battle and ask questions later, giving her the title upon ascension of the 'Patron Saint of First Blood'. In life, she was most famous for writing the theological papers The Lymirin Discourses, which utilized the Acts of Iomedae to demonstrate and teach various magical and fighting techniques. She died during the formative period in which Drezen was founded, and in death, became its protector.
*Saints, in the church of Iomedae, are faithful who upon their deaths are immediately pulled into Iomedae's service as a reward for a lifetime of valor and exemplary service, skipping the intermediate role of a petitioner entirely and keeping their mortal memories in the process. Shortly after their deaths they often appear in visions at the churches they frequented in their new forms, alerting the clergy of their ascendance to Sainthood. While some Saints form pseudo-cults in certain areas, where people offer up prayers and shrines to Saints as a sort of intermediary to Iomedae herself, no Saints of Iomedae have demonstrated the ability to grant clerical or paladin powers to date.
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A simple lie would be so much easier...
"Mister X is gone." Ary says after a short pause as the child begins to cry. "He is gone for a very, very long time. Like daddy, but different. Daddy was a very good person, so Daddy went to heaven. One day, you'll get to see him again... but Eustoriax went to a much worse place, and I don't think you'll ever see him again." she pauses, eyes showing clear pain in explaining it to the little girl, but the rest of her face showing the kindness she's trying to present. Death, in this world, was inevitable... but so, too, were what those deaths represented. Understanding that was the first step towards moving on, even if the little girl was robbed of her father in the process of learning them.
Ehren is in the middle of beating a dretch over the head with his staff when the first flash happens, bringing with it the harbinger of their victory. For what feels like the hundredth time that day, the druid's eyes widen with awe. The planetar's arrival was no divine miracle, but the raw power she exudes is no laughing matter. Anticipating Saint Lymirin's first course of action, Ehren just barely manages to shield his eyes in time for the second flash of light.
Not since Ghalcor's tower has Ehren witnessed such destructive brilliance. But even then, that had been the work of a superweapon, a colossal structure that drew its power from the land itself. For that same kind of power to be unleashed by a singular being was another thing entirely. The angel had ended the raging battle with literally a single word.
When she addresses them, Ehren offers a slight but reverent bow. He glances at Irabeth for a moment before finally speaking up. There was only one place he could think to direct the planetar's righteous might.
"Saint Lymirin, the crusaders at Paradise Hill are in jeopardy. Their fortifications are strong, but the enemy's forces in Southbank are great in number."
Sana sniffles, but Ary's kind words manage to stop her tears, at least for the time being. "So, I'll get to see Daddy again?" she asks, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She gives a very small smile. "Daddy said only good people go to Heaven... so I'll be the most goodest then, that way I can see him again!"
---
Saint Lymirin nods, hovering a few feet above the ground before them, her scroll curled on the ground in a circle below her feet. "Very well. We will eradicate every last one of the demonic filth who have come to reside in this city. We should make haste."
"Perhaps we should split the army, half to defend the gatehouse here, just in case-" Irabeth is cut off as the heroes, with Isilme (the fastest) at the front, emerge from the eastern door.
The planetar turns to face the newcomers. She greets them, though she is a serious, un-smiling woman. As Ary emerges, she gives a curt nod.
"The Lion of Iomedae. A pleasure. I am Saint Lymirin..." she says, scanning through the heroes, though her gaze suddenly stops at Valaria. Without saying a word, she points her flaming blade at her, as if to strike the tiefling. Her blade pulses, and a jet of holy flame erupts outwards from the blade, erupting in a burst of holy energy at a point behind her. The fire and light washes over the heroes harmlessly. There is a high pitched screaming noise, as the angel's eyes follow something invisible fluttering through the room, moving higher still. After a few more moments, she raises her blade again, pointed around 40' up in the air and to the left. There is another explosion of holy light, and more screaming, and then silence.
Her face remains impassive during this, and once she is satisfied, she lowers her blade and continues speaking as if nothing had happened. "As I was saying, I believe we are headed to Paradise Hill."
Val winces and shields one eye as the angel promptly smites the Bound Horror again and again. Considering how effective the last attempt to kill him had been, she has a distinct feeling that he'll be back and in a worse mood soon enough. "I'm going to hear about that, I just know it." She silently chides herself for not considering what the angel would do. It would hardly be the first time something has detected her tag-along. "I just got here, but Paradise Hill sounds fine to me." Her ears perk up as she processes the angel's address of Ary. "Lion... that sounds familiar..."
While he doesn't recognize the planetar for who she is, Xanderghul still nods in approval at the aftermath of her work. That the courtyard stands empty of demons was likely her handiwork, and her appearance heralded the destruction of many more demons. Of especial importance was her destruction of the Bound Horror. With the flag in place, it may be some time before it could return to Valaria. Good. Its presence didn't bring anything good.
When the suggestion comes to go to Paradise Hill, Xanderghul nods. He looks up at the imposing figure of the angel.
He had never met an angel before. Standing before it, he saw it was every bit the equal of a shemhazian or a lilitu, right down to its terrifying presence. He addresses it: "If you would staunch the wounds of our most-wounded, then we can accompany you to free our armies from the pressures at Southbank."
It wouldn't do to have allies bleed out while they freed the city, after all.
"I'd be surprised if she can't."
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Isilme takes a moment to admire the massive planar being before her once they arrive back in the entrance. She had some memories of having seen other greater Azatas than herself, a Ghaele once for certain, but there was something truly impressive and fascinating about Angels. It wasn't merely that they were truly powerful--they were, of course, though less so than Brijidine Azatas--nor was it their unearthly beauty--which this one possessed in no small measure. No, it was the fact that they lived in all the celestial planes and served all the gods. There was no equal to them among the evil outsiders.
The brief diversion of watching the planetar destroy the Bound Horror is quite amusing to Isilme, but she resists the urge to laugh at the demon's fate. Focusing inwards, she digs deeply into her memories to see what she can recall of the specific planetar before her. In her trance, she calls out in her own lilting celestial to the being before her.
"لير أنا مين ، قديسة الدم الأولى ، سقط العديد من شيطان لشفرة سريعة الخاص بك
والمعارك التي لا نهاية لها كنت حارب كالوارث.
صديق و عدو على حد سواء أحاط علما وصولك
لأن وجودك وحده يشير إلى بقاءها.
شغفك وتضحياتك ألهمت وقدمت النموذج
لهذه القلعة دفنت داخل العواصف السحيقة.
من المناسب فقط أن تعود الآن للإشراف على هذه المعركة.
لنشهد الآن نهاية ليلة درزين الأبدية."
Her words ring and echo through the room, the melody and rhythm the celestial equivalent of poetry.
"حتى في حياتي الطويلة ، اجتماع واحد مثلك هو شيء لا يُنسى حقاً. أنا القمر والنجوم," she adds at the end with a smile and slight bow to show the planetar respect.
"Lyrimin, Saint of First Blood, many a demon fell to your swift blade //
and endless battles you fought as the Inheritor bade. //
Friend and foe alike took note of your arrival //
for your presence alone oft signaled their survival. //
Your passion and sacrifice inspired and gave form //
to this Citadel buried within abyssal storms.
It is only fitting you return now to oversee this fight. //
To witness now the end of Drezen's eternal night."
"Even with my long life, meeting one such as you is truly memorable. I am Lleuad-a'r-Sêr."
While they make their way out of the dark underground complex, Hinagiku keeps and eye out for foe and allies alike, especially Joran Vhane and the vampiric jailor. Hinagiku was concerned for the dwarf, he had been a faithful of holy gods but now had fallen to the darker ones... now that his brother had passed he did not have to sacrifice his soul in the name of brotherly duty anymore. As they pass by the prison, Hinagiku gives it a short look, thinking about the prisoners that still laid in the cells... still, they needed to make sure the battle was won, only then was there a point in saving them.
Holding her breath to avoid breathing the foul green cloud filling the large room, Hinagiku cautiously enters an area from which the echoes of battle at been replaced by the muffled sounds of a costly victory.
But her fighting stance quickly melts down as she lays eyes on the angel dominating the battlefield. After respectfully bowing low to the holy being, Hinagiku quickly makes her way through the bent down bodies in search of any fallen soldier who still appears to breath.
Praying to the Master of masters, Hinagiku slowly closes the wounds of the fallen, insuring they will live, if only long enough to be property cared for.
"Remember, kiddo. The deeper the darkness, the brighter the light on the other side." Anevia says conspiratorially to the young girl with a wink, before eyeing Ary's ring. She could borrow it and look good for Irabeth when they get back... "Never let them take your light."
Ultimately, it would be nearly impossible for Ary to not know who Lymirin was, regardless of whether or not Isilme did. The song, certainly, could have helped. But Ary knew quite a lot about the planetar, and what would occur if a powerful and just follower of Iomedae were to pass away. In Ary's case, strings were pulled... though her inevitable return from Heaven had prevented any sort of ascensions that the trip implied.
"I... does my reputation precede me, Saint Lymirin?" Ary asks after a brief pause, clear relief showing in her face at the sudden and inevitable destruction of the bound horror. "Before we go. There are many prisoners, and they are my responsibility. She says, making clear the implication that she considered guarding them to be a vow she had undertaken. "Jhoran and Nurah in particular, I have staked my life for. The others, I have hopes for, but it is important to me that we do not waste life." She gives Valaria a look as she chooses to leave out Ayavah, giving Valaria the opportunity to present that information if she wishes. Hopefully the planetar wouldn't notice the holy symbol if she didn't.
"There is still much to do here, as well as elsewhere. There is a vampire below, a succubus... somewhere among us or within the citadel, Thoxel demons which we did not have time to deal with..." Ary says, shaking her head. "I believe that I should stay here and continue dealing with the threats located here, though moving to defend Paradise Hill needs some expedience, moving on Southshore, and moving into the vault as well. Are you called here, or summoned?" She asks, making the question clear that she was asking if the planetar was actually at risk by her summoning.
Xanderghul ponders the nature of the creature before them, considering what he knew of its capabilities. Despite its angelic nature, it was quite a lot. "We don't have to worry too much about her being in danger. This angel has the capability to rain destruction down many times on demonkind from quite high in the air."
"Ary, I will stay here with you- I agree that the castle needs to be secured. I think Isilme at least, and some others, should return to Southshore. You know, on account of-" and with a nod of his head, he indicates their prepubescent cargo.
Planetars are the angelic generals of celestial armies. They typically manifest as tall beings with emerald skin and two pairs of feathered wings, but their appearance can vary wildly. Typically, planetars resemble their formal selves as mortals. It is common knowledge amongst even the most ignorant mortals that good beings can become angels, and indeed most people assume that great good heroes and priests upon their death become angels of some sort. In truth, there is a large variety of celestial beings that a good mortal soul may ascend to upon death, but of course, the common layperson does not differentiate between archons, agathions, and azatas, and simply calls all of them angels.
Planetars possess truespeech and can understand and speak to any living intelligent being.
Planetars typically wield holy weapons, and can cast divine spells.
Planetars can see everything, possessing True Sight. They are immune to acid, cold, and petrification. Only evil creatures can even harm them (DR/evil), and they rapidly regenerate from any wounds sustained. They possess innate resistance against fire, electricity, and all spellcraft.
Planetars can also shift into mortal forms, blending amongst normal people unseen.
Planetars also possess a Protective Aura. Against attacks made or effects created by evil creatures, this ability provides a +4 deflection bonus to AC and a +4 resistance bonus on saving throws to anyone within 20 feet of the angel. Otherwise, it functions as a magic circle against evil effect and a lesser globe of invulnerability, both with a radius of 20 feet (caster level equals angel’s HD). The defensive benefits from the circle are not included in an angel’s statistics block.
The oldest planetars pre-date the Material plane, and are amongst the oldest Good beings in the multiverse. Most planetars however, are good souls that live exemplary lives and ascended to become planetars in death. Some souls, like Saint Lymirin's are chosen specifically by the good-aligned gods to ascend into becoming planetars.
Your average planetar has access to the following spells. However, as they prepare spells as clerics do, their spell lists may vary slightly.
Spell-Like Abilities (CL 16th)
Constant—detect evil, detect snares and pits, discern lies (DC 20), true seeing
At will—continual flame, dispel magic, holy smite (DC 21), invisibility (self only), lesser restoration, remove curse, remove disease, remove fear (DC 18), speak with dead (DC 20)
3/day—blade barrier (DC 21), flame strike (DC 22), power word stun, raise dead, waves of fatigue
1/day—earthquake (DC 25), greater restoration, mass charm monster (DC 25), waves of exhaustion
Cleric Spells Prepared (CL 16th)
8th—earthquake (DC 25), fire storm (DC 25)
7th—holy word (DC 24), regenerate (2)
6th—banishment(DC 23), greater dispel magic, heal, mass cure moderate wounds (DC 23)
5th—break enchantment, dispel evil (2, DC 22), plane shift (DC 22), righteous might
4th—death ward, dismissal (DC 21), neutralize poison (DC 21), summon monster IV
3rd—cure serious wounds (2), daylight, invisibility purge, summon monster III, wind wall
2nd—align weapon (2), bear’s endurance (2), cure moderate wounds (2), eagle’s splendor
1st—bless (2), cure light wounds (4), shield of faith
0 (at will)— detect magic, purify food and drink, stabilize, virtue
Planetars are typically war-like, and are focused on eradicating evil wherever it may be rather than on redemption or negotiating piece. Their primary function is to protect the three good-aligned outer planes from armies sent from the evil planes. Such extraplanar wars are fought as evil beings seek to kill, maim or enslave petitioners enjoying their divine afterlife in the celestial planes.
----
Saint Lymirin wordlessly nods to Xanderghul, and raises a hand, channeling out healing energies to the most wounded. Additionally, she strides amongst the awestruck crusaders, pausing at the few who had fallen. She taps them with her longsword. "Rise, Crusaders. Your work here is not done. The Inheritor has need of your strength, yet."
Several of the formerly dead simply rise back up again, dazed, while their companions in arms weep and embrace them, having thought them lost forever.
Returning to the heroes once more, she returns Isilme's bow. "Yes, Lleuad-a'r-Sêr, of the endless fields of Elysium," she says. "You have been of interest to the Shining Legion as well."
She doesn't answer Ary's first question, instead, she makes eye contact with the half-drow Marshal, seemingly scrutinizing her. Once she is done, she responds, "I understand and will honor your wards, Commander."
"I have been summoned here. I may not stray beyond the reaches of the Sword of Valor, and I will leave this Plane in twenty four hours." She is succinct with her words, only speaking what is needed, and nothing more.
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Ehren does not immediately recognize the elven woman that arrives with Sana in her arms, but he recognizes her for who she is almost immediately. As the rest of his friends enter shortly after, he smiles with relief. He had no doubts that they would triumph over Eustoyriax, but for them all to come back no worse for wear was more than he could have hoped for. Victory was almost theirs, but there was still plenty to be done before they could celebrate.
The druid approaches the Kellids, wondering how they fared in the battle. As he gets closer, however, it occurs to him that they might not have all survived Saint Lymirin's purge. His expression goes dour at the realization. He could hardly blame the planetar for taking the most efficient course of action, but it was a shame that it had resulted in such a waste of life. Even so, he realized that their decision to fight alongside the crusaders had formed nothing more than an alliance of convenience - an alliance that would soon expire if he did not act fast.
Jentak. While he is glad to see that the barbarian still lives, she was herself the crux of the problem. He had turned her against the cultists by appealing to her pride, but he had done nothing to quell the hatred in her heart. One way or the other, a reunion with Ailig would prove to be short. And bloody.
"Mae wedi digwydd yn union fel y dywedais y byddai. Mae Vhane yn farw. Bydd Drezen yn fuan yn perthyn i'r frwydradau unwaith eto. Ni fydd neb yn y ddinas hon yn byw i weld tomorow. Beth fyddwch chi'n ei wneud nawr, rhyfelwyr llwyth Ceffgwylt?" he asks, addressing the group as a whole. Jentak might be their leader, but he was not about her to afford her the same respect he would show to a true clan-liege. "Mae gweddill eich llwyth yn dal i fyw. Er gwaethaf eich bradychu, yng ngoleuni'ch gweithredoedd yma, efallai y byddant yn ei chael yn eu calonnau i faddau i chi. Neu efallai y byddai'n well gennych ddod o hyd i'ch ffordd eich hun."
Only then does he address the daughter of Ailig, looking her in the eye.
"Nid yw'n rhy hwyr i wneud diwygiadau, Jentak. Mae Sarkoris yn dal i fod angen rhyfelwyr fel chi."
"The rest of your tribe still lives. Despite your betrayal, in light of your actions here, they might yet find it in their hearts to forgive you. Or perhaps you would rather find your own way."
"It is not too late to make amends, Jentak. Sarkoris still has need of warriors like you."
Seeing Ehren address the Kellids who had helped Irabeth and the crusaders hold the castle, she quickly takes measure of his goal. Clearly he was still quite young, but he was gaining the confidence and skill he would need in his new role at an incredible rate. It was a reminder that even absent the events in Kenabres, any single member of their group could have become someone world-changing in their own right. Certainly Ehren might not have ascended to Archdruid, but his life would likely have been one worth sharing the story of either way.
She looks to the kellids and crusaders in the room, and moves up alongside Ehren. Isilme then begins addressing the kellids, taking the time to repeat the verses in common as well--after translating the Archdruid's words first--for the benefit of the crusaders. As she speaks, she weaves her own divine power into the words, seeking to inspire all those involved to put the past behind them.
"Remember that the Archdruid aided us in retrieving the Sword of Valor and brought it here to be hung, ending the battle for Drezen. His magic made that possible. Even now, your brethren stand shoulder to shoulder with crusaders at Paradise Hill, having decided to fight for this city and this land. Their valor has helped buy us time to assault the citadel and take it. Your valor and unwillingness to be bound into servitude has saved lives here and across the region as well! Not just those of crusaders, but of your kin throughout these lands. Stand proud!"
She looks at each of the remaining members of clan Ceffgwylt, taking their measure, and then finally at Jentak. She then turns to look at the crusaders and judge their mood as well while her words (and the Archdruid's) sink in. After a moment, she resumes.
"Crusaders and kellids together aided in taking this city, and aided us in our journey here. Many on both sides gave their lives to make this possible! This is a new dawn for all. Reflect upon that and go forward today unfettered of the chains of your past deeds. Choose the path you wish you had walked, or may wish now to walk, whatever it may be. That path may not be easy, and there will be both need and time for making amends with those who have have been wronged before today, but today we must all choose our path!"
"There will be need for those who wish to both challenge themselves against the demons and against this unforgiving land. And there will be space in the northern reaches across the Ahari river and around Silvershore too, for those who seek the freedom to live further from the battlefield."
Isilme looks to the rest of the group and the crusaders. "It was with Clan Ceffgwylt's help and sacrifices that this room was held. We owe them thanks," she says, encouraging the crusaders and group to chime in as well, and offering to translate for any of the Kellids who could not understand common.
Though his words and tone are blunt and careless, Xanderghul too decides to weigh in on the Kellid conundrum.
"os oes yna ferch yn ei arddegau yn werth gwrando, dyma'r whelp hwn. Ef yw ei eiriau, ei ddewis sy'n rhoi'r cyfle hwn i chi gyda ni. Byddai'n ddewis gwael i'w wastraffu."
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Hingiku raises her head while Isilme begins translating Ehren's speech, and continues with her own. Though she marvelled at how skilled the azata was, she did not think any words she may add would help. But her actions could. They had so often spoken much louder than words. And so she turns back to the fallen kellid she had been tending to, and continues invoking the Master of master to stabilize the poor man.
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Still new to influencing others with his words, Ehren’s lack of experience and fledgling sense of leadership show in his appeal to Jentak and her clan. Even so, the archdruid exudes an intangible aura of power, one which seems to communicate the truth of his words far better than a honeyed tongue could hope to.
He smiles inwardly as his friends come forward to support his endeavor. As archdruid, he would not always be able to depend on their guidance, but here and now, he was happy that they cared enough to speak up. Even Xanderghul had something almost nice to say.
"Hyd yn oed os yw'n ifanc, mae Ehren wedi profi'n ddoeth y tu hwnt i'w flynyddoedd. Nid yw'n rhy hwyr i'r crudwyr a'r kellidiaid ddod yn gynghreiriaid, yn hytrach nag wrthwynebwyr, ac efallai bod llais newydd yn union yr hyn sydd ei angen i helpu hynny i newid. Archdderwydd newydd sy'n gweld y gorau ym mhob un ohonom." Valaria adds her own voice to Ehren's speech, as simple as it might be. Convincing the kellids to follow him could be a major step in turning them away from the demons' service.