Isilme spends the week leading up to the trip ensuring everything is in order in Drezen. Besides checking up on Ai'sintar's students and teaching some of her own at her school, she led a group out to escort the coming troupe of performers, not willing to risk having them fall prey to a group of bandits armed by the Drifter. The trip was relatively uneventful, thanks to Val having tagged along and handily dispatched a pack of demon-plagued wolves that ambushed them.
The trip to Hrut's ceremony is painless thanks to Ehren's ability to transport them back and forth. Aravashnial had accompanied her, apart from the obvious reason, he had been been there at the beginning, and he knew Hrut far better than Isilme herself did. On the walk to the location of the ceremony he recounted a story about Hrut and a temple of Torag deep beneath Kenabres, which surprisingly she hadn't heard before.
After splitting up from Ary she follows the others to their place back amongst those invited personally, taking her seat to await the beginning of the ceremony.
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”Please come in.” Hinagiku readily says, stepping back and bowing to welcome the young paladin enter the inner courtyard of the small monastery.
”I am well. Thank you. You seem good too. I have heard that you are working hard on preparing your wedding, it’s good to hear.” she pauses for a short moment, not wanting to press the young man with too many questions (such as why Jonelle did not move to Drezen).
”Mr. Vhane is deeply focused on his work right now, it is best to wait a bit when his focus wanes a bit, and then talk to him. You can sit here, and I will wait with you.” Hinagiku walks toward the middle of the courtyard from which they can see, through a window, Joran’s working station.
It takes almost 20 minutes, during which Hinagiku speaks with Meridrand in hushed tones, but she finally notices him slowly down, as if he now needed to reflect upon the next step on his work. Standing up, she approaches the window’s opening and gently knocks on the frame.
”Mr. Pallisard has come to ask for a commission, would you have time to meet him today?” she gently asks.
Hinagiku looks at Xanderghul, her brow slightly furrowed in dubiousness.
”I see, I hope you can still find some time in your schedule for a drink, maybe tea, so we can catch up. It has been a while seen we saw each other. Please let me know.” she finishes, as the wizard leaves.
In the following days, Hinagiku elects to prepare her own visit to the various families and people who had participated in the rehabilitation program. First, to congratulate the people who would soon swear allegiance to the crusades in the coming ceremony, and second to talk about the problems the people had faced and the solutions they had come up with. In doing so, she hoped she could better help tiefling they might encounter in the future. And so, to each person she visits, she brings a small bouquet of flower, collected with pain within the cold ground.
Hinagiku silently waits next to Ehren, smiling once or twice as he looks toward her; this was a special day for a friend of her friend, and so a special day for him. It had once more been quite interesting to travel through the ley. Though it had been strange at first, Hinagiku was now feeling more and more comfortable with it. It almost felt like she connected to her mother, shared her experience with Ehren in an intimate manner. And, she could her mother rejoice at it, like her boundless gratitude at Ehren could finally be expressed more fully. Beyond that, traveling through the ley helped Hinagiku better understand the true interconnectedness of everything, giving her insight into the very powers she had been meditating on lately, namely using the ley to sense and interact with the world rather than her own body. She was still a long way away from truly succeeding, but had still made quite some headway.
At the intensifying silence of anticipation, Hinagiku steals herself from her thoughts, and looks back up toward the altar of the cathedral.
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"I'll do my best to work with Horgus to lower taxes on any religion that goes out of its way to provide education, though I hadn't meant tantric... I don't think. I'm not sure what that means. I more meant 'safe sex, consent, understanding of everything going on there'.
And one more thing - I can't control what will and won't be scried upon within the city. There won't be undue scrying that I'm made aware of, but if there's a rash of murders, and the murderer winds up being in a Sarenrite temple or a Calistrian one, the scrying effect will show us. And... I can't guarantee there won't be any peeping toms, though I'll make sure my men are on the lookout for any such magic, if they know how to spot it."
She moves quickly and with purpose to Nurah's room, pausing before she reaches the bars, to let the Halfling know she had a visitor, "Hey Nurah, sorry I'm so late... we had quite a few folks from Sesker's Gulley to bury. Isilme said you had need of me?"
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As a planar traveler who didn't put much stock in religion or pay attention to the different groups who did, Xanderghul was only familiar with the solar who had founded this order that Hrut was being inducted into. Indeed, not ever having met Hrut Xanderghul was actually just there for himself. He had prepared a couple of invisibility spells just in case Jorsal turned out to be right and the event turned out to be totally unbearable. He sits in the middle next to his friend and casts his gaze around, looking to see if this many righteous people all in the same place might actually give off light.
Seems like no.
Meridrand sat with Hinagiku, happily chatting about his upcoming marriage to Jonelle. Once Joran is finally able to see them both, he gets up to shake the dwarf's hand, and explains, "I have recently received word that I am to be nighted next week in Nerosyan. I know that it is short notice, but I was hoping to have my breastplate repaired and altered to be more befitting for the occasion," he explains.
"Eh. I guess I can try n' squeeze ye in," Joran responds. "Lotsa work this week, but, I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you so much," Meridrand responds earnestly. Turning to Hinagiku, he adds, "If you are to be in Nerosyan next week, you should attend the ceremony. I can introduce you to Jonelle!"
Arvin's face falls somewhat as he is not guaranteed privacy within Drezen, but he accepts the Lord Commander's terms regardless. It wasn't like he had much of a choice, after all. He graciously takes his leave.
In the next week, Ary is able to obtain Horgus' blessing regarding tax cuts for temples or businesses providing education services - though he is careful to write out a precise definition of what constitutes such an educational service. He isn't pleased about it (Horgus is never pleased at the prospect of reducing income), but if the project had Ary's blessing, he was willing to see what he could do to make it work.
"Ary!" says Nurah, perking up from whatever she was working on at her desk. . Despite being trapped in a windowless, barred cell, her quarters more resembled a small, cozy studio apartment than a true jail cell. Thanks to Ary she had comfortable seating with plush cushions, a rug, a small bed, and her own desk. She also had several bookshelves, each filled with history books she had requested. Sometimes she borrowed them from Aravashnial's library. Others were gifts. Isilme had screened each of these texts, just in case she was actually trying to research a means of escape, but ultimately they were almost entirely focused on the Worldwound, Sarkoris and the surrounding nations.
"Oh. That," Nurah says with a sigh. "The azata did inform me of the expedition into Sesker's Gully. She recommended that I get the story from you, so that I can write about something new, for a change." Her recent works were derivatives of other historical texts - compilations, criticisms, analyses. This was naturally due to her inability to seek out new information herself.
Her very existence at Drezen was kept carefully secret - only a few need-to-know people were aware she was being kept within the citadel. This was the protect her from potential assassination. To the Deskarans she could easily be viewed as a loose thread. On official documents, Nurah was declared dead as of the battle of Drezen a year prior.
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25 Gozran 4715
The grand temple of the Empyreal Guardians is magnificent. High above, vaulted ceilings form a cracked ribcage draped in shadow and resonant echoes. Along the perimeter rise curved timber beams thick with detailed carvings, leafy furls, and symmetrical clubs. Around the perimeter, marked by tiered rows of amber-glowing candles, tall stained-glass windows set in leaden frames depict the major accomplishments of Saint Clydwell’s life.
At the far end of the chamber, a raised dais supports a long marble altar fronted by a pulpit and a gold-leafed reliquary. Flanking the altar stands two exquisitely carved massive wooden statues of Saint Clydwell. The once bright colors of the oil paints covering the statues have faded and dulled with time. The saint is depicted at the time of his ascension, with a crown of light on his head and feathered wings sprouting from his back, as he prepares to fly into heaven to join Iomedae at her side.
Moments later, a few minor priests enter and make final preparations at the altar for the approaching ceremony, while more robed acolytes pace the outer aisles, chanting and swinging censers in smoky jasmine-scented trails.
”Here at the edge of the Worldwound, overlooking the West Sellen River, stands Nerosyan, a city of light on the border of a blighted land,” begins the high priest. He is an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and a neatly trimmed beard, dressed in ceremonial attire.
This is Kutholiam Vuere, the high priest of Al’asadriel in the city, and member of the Empyreal Guardians.
You recognize the high priest as the demonologist Kutholiam Vuere, who wrote a book you read known as Vuere’s Demonic Taxonomy, a renowned book on demonic nomenclature and categorization.
”For more than a century, holy champions from all corners of the known world have taken up the crusade against Abyssal monstrosities lurking within the Worldwound. The blood of countless martyrs and crusaders anoints the stones of this legendary city, a testimony to the sacrifices made to protect Golarion from the hordes of the Abyss.”
”Standing several miles distant to the north, the city of Kenabres bolsters our defenders by continually providing two crucial commodities: weapons capable of slaying demons, and the soldiers to use them. Nearly two years ago, that city nearly fell, but for the actions of a few noble heroes. Those heroes turned the tide of the war, though it was at the cost of the sacred wardstone field.”
”Today marks an important occasion in Nerosyan, for today a young man, a young man who was one of those very few Heroes of Kenabres stands among us today to be consecrated into the sacred Order of Holy Sentinels. We have gathered here today from far and wide to witness this hallowed ceremony; a renewal of the pledge of protection and a reminder of the sacrifices of those who come before.”
Dignitaries, soldiers, merchants, zealots, and more have crowded into the cathedral of the Empyreal Guardians.
Notably absent is the Crusader Queen herself, though otherwise the congregation is a general who’s-who of Mendevian nobility.
Ary was pulled aside and debriefed as she entered the city. She was informed that the Crusader Queen was away on official business in Kyonin this morning, but would be available in the afternoon to speak to her to obtain a report on Drezen’s current status.
At that moment one of the rear side doors opens, revealing Ser Hrut Ingvarson, the Fiendslayer, dressed in resplendent ceremonial armor.
”Ser Hrut Ingvarson is a holy champion of the highest caliber, and is among the best of the best the Empyreal Guardians has seen in over a decade,” continues the priest as he strides down the center of the room, flanked on each side by gleaming, armored knights and robed acolytes.
As he arrives at the front of the church, a choir at the rear of the cathedral begins to sing in Celestial:
”قد ينشأ الله ، قد يتناثر أعداؤه
قد يهرب خصومه من قبله.
قد تهبهم مثل الدخان
كما يذوب الشمع أمام النار ،
قد يهلك الأشرار أمام الله.
ولكن قد يكون الصديق سعيدا
ونفرح أمام الله.
قد تكون سعيدة وبهيجة.
”May Iomedae arise, may her enemies be scattered;
may her foes flee before her.
May she blow them away like smoke—
as wax melts before the fire,
may the wicked perish before our Lady of Valor.
But may the righteous be glad
and rejoice before her;
may they be happy and joyful.”
The inaugural ceremony is long, drawn-out affair. After the hymns, there is an elaborate introduction filled with superfluous aggrandizing of various religious and political attendees drags on for almost an hour, as each pledges fealties and oaths to the protection of Mendev and Nerosyan. Ser Jorsal sits beside Xanderghul, trying his best not to yawn or roll his eyes as several pompous merchants step forth, swearing more of the half-fulfilled promises they tend to make in the face of the Iomedaen church each year. This is then followed by a long chant that the high priest intones in Celestial.
At the height of the ceremony, the high priest calls forth Hrut once again to kneel at the altar. The high priest places his hand on Ser Hrut’s shoulder and begins to utter the words of consecration, the young man starts to shake, then convulse wildly. As several nearby acolytes stand up in alarm and rush to his side to help, an inhuman groan erupts from his distended mouth, changing into a wolfish howl. The high priest shrinks from Hrut in horror as his flesh starts to warp and bloat, his skin snapping off in long streaks to reveal a towering creature with a broad, muscular body. Four arms force their way through his armor, two of which molting into two enormous pincers, as his face distends into a wolf-like head topped with long, twisted horns…
While glabrezu are exceedingly powerful, there are so many powerful paladins and knights within this cathedral that what it is doing can only be described as a suicide mission.
Thick curtains to the sides of the dais violently part, and a screaming mass of small, pot-bellied fiends with long, drooping ears and gangly arms ending in sharp claws spill into the grand temple. The swarm of dretches surround the nobles and diplomats with gnashing teeth and slashing claws. Behind Valaria and Isilme a woman lets out a shrill scream as she is gang-tackled by a team of foul dretches. She vanishes under a writhing pile of their foul bodies.
That noblewoman is Lady Zubova of house Surtova, (first-cousin of the King of Brevoy)
As if that wasn’t enough, the stained glass windows on the sides depicting Saint Clydwell commanding a succubus to fall to her knees suddenly shatters as four large, vulture-like demons drop to the grand temple floor and snap at the air with their sharp beaks.
1. Ser Jorsal (26)
2. Valaria (24)
3. Ary (24)
4. Xanderghul (21)
5. Vrock #3 (17), Glabrezu (17),
6. Lann (16)
7. Vrock #1 (14), Vrock #2 (11)
8. Ehren (11)
9. Aravashnial (11)
10. Hinagiku (10)
11. Isilme (9)
12. Vrock #4 (8), High Priest (7), Dretch Swarm 1 (6), Dretch Swarm 2 (3), Noblewoman (2)
Ser Jorsal, despite having been nodding off just moments before, is the first out of his seat. In seconds his blade is drawn and arcing across the vrocks chest, but on the backswing the vrock grabs the blade with an enormous, bird-like claw and wrenches it away from him.
Round 1!
Valaria, Ary, and Xanderghul are up!
Typically prepared for danger around any corner, Xanderghul ignores the swarming dretches and screaming noblepeople and focuses on the vrocks. The group would have to leap into action quickly to defeat this horde of demons... although how it managed to sneak so far into Mendev's capital city is something that would need to bear strict investigation.
Xanderghul steps away from the demon that Jorsal now fights and focuses on the other one closer to Ary. If he could remove it as a threst, then their Commander could come and aid Jorsal. Drawing on his knowledge of magic, he creates a geist capable of invading minds and drawing out the worst fears of his victims. Like a wriggling worm, he sends the geist into the mind of the vrock, hoping to kill it outright.
Val can't help but feel like the temple of the Guardians is a bit too ostentatious, but she's used to the humble wayshrines of Desna so perhaps she just has a skewed perspective in this case. They're certainly nicer than the temples to Asmodeus back in Cheliax. Blood red and black were not terribly welcoming when everyone knew that it was hiding actual blood. Still, the ceremony is quite nice.
Having such a renowned demonologist leading the ceremony explained quite a few things, especially how the Guardians were so effective against the forces of the Worldwound. Their leadership was top notch. The ceremony became much less nice when Hrut suddenly transformed into a demon and the horde descended on the crowd. "Everyone who can't fight needs to escaped out the front!" she calls out over the crowd. "That's a glabrezu! Deceiver demons of the highest order, they can shapeshift at will and manipulate and corrupt people with dark wishes. Expect every trick it can imagine! Bless your weapons to get through it's hide and watch yourselves." She enchants her starknife with holy magic from the dragon scale in her pouch and begins a simple rhythmic chant to focus their minds.
Ary is up!
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Ary is surprised to see the high priest here, lofting a brow slightly as he begins to lead the ceremony, recognizing him as an extremely important figure within the crusades... she enjoys the beginning of the ceremony, though her mind begins to wander as all of the foreign and local dignitaries are introduced. There were so many more things she could be doing than learning the names of these men and women, and listening to them list their merits, only occasionally being drawn back to the ceremony when someone of particular interest to her is mentioned.
What..? Ary's eyes widened as Hrut becomes not-Hrut. How had Hrut had his position stolen by a Glabrezu? How had the axe Fiendsplitter not forewarned him long before there was any sort of threat? Unless... no, Fiendsplitter would have been crying out the moment they attempted to hand the axe off to him. So how did this happen without any sort of warning going out? How were the demons all already in place - ready and mobile? "Get everyone to safety as soon as you can!" Ary says to the nearest knight even as she hears Jorsal's weapon clatter to the floor. She winces, recognizing the sound all-too-well from Fenton's practice with newer squires within Drezen. "Someone get that man a sword. Daisy, Ehren, that woman is directly related to the King of Brevoy. Try to keep her safe!"
"Be cautious and stay spread out! We need priests capable of bless to be ready to counteract the Vrocks!" Ary calls to her allies, "This Glabrezu can disrupt gravity, sow confusion, and perform a chaos-related blasphemy! Be prepared to interrupt his magic, Isilme!" Ary continues barking out orders, as she looks over her shoulder to the priest. "We also need to keep the high priest safe from the him!" She says, as she shifts to put a little distance between herself and the Vrock, closing with the other Vrock beside Xanderghul and Jorsal. Radiance comes up into her hand as she intones 'Weight of my Sword.' finger tracing along the raven on her wrist, enchanting Radiance with demon-slaying might, then presses her hand to the Inheritor's symbol emblazoned over her heart, 'Inheritor, protect me.' she intones, once more.
"Too far away." Ary mutters to herself, clearly distressed as she looks to each of her companions - well outside of her own reach and the reach of even her motes. "Hey, tall dark and wolfy!" she calls to the Glabrezu, "Bet you're really wishing you hadn't crashed this party about now, eh? What kind of idiot demon strikes at the heart of the Empyreal Crusaders' power? One that's gonna tuck tail and run as soon as the fight turns against him, I'd wager." Ary calls out, hoping her words would make up for some of the lack of bravado she was feeling. But... she had to find a way to protect everyone.
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The vrock that was hurtling through the air at Ary suddenly stops. It falls to the ground and dies screaming, gradually melting into ichor and smoke. Across from her, Ser Holton Albright arises to engage the other vrock still present on the opposite side of the cathedral. Other Empyreal Guardians rise to their feet, only to be brought down low by the monster's ear-splitting screech. Only Holton Albright himself regains use of his senses.
The heroes hear a mocking, deep voice inside of their heads. 'Sna ishúbhumb hushom ashi thrakâk púbhul. Dúk kam, I thramp gompi bam uti thrab sni.'
"Get out of there, Vuere!" calls Holton Albright. The terrified priest scrambles to move... but the glabrezu utters a lone syllable, "Búshk." and he is suddenly left utterly immobile, frozen in mid-step!
Lann is up!
"I will do what I can Ary," she calls out in response to her warning. "Ai'sintar, call forth a circle of protection to see if it drives the dretches away. Help Val protect the civilians, I will help High Priest Vuere," she says, looking down towards where the Glabrezu loomed over the helpless priest.
Lann was flattered by Ehren’s invitation to join him on his trip to the capital, having not quite anticipated that outcome when he voiced his enviousness. However, he was even more flattered when Wenduag later presented him with his very own official invitation to the ceremony. Evidently, Hrut had the exact same thought as the druid did. Deciding that he wanted to look a little more presentable for the big event, Lann spent some time polishing the studs on his armor, for lack of a glorious suit of plate mail.
To his credit, the underfolk man is much too fascinated by the sheer majesty of the cathedral to be bored by the lengthy ceremony. Having grown up with a rather humble shrine to Iomedae in Neathholm, witnessing the full breadth of the church’s presence Nerosyan was a sight to behold. He eyes each of the dignitaries and priests with genuine interest, despite having even less of an idea of who they are than Ehren does. His attentiveness is eventually rewarded, for when disaster suddenly strikes, he is able to immediately draw his cold iron.
"I'll see what I can do about these dretches," Lann hisses, exchanging a look with Ehren. As skilled as he has grown over the past year or so, going toe-to-toe with a vrock was still a little beyond him. With that, he turns and swings his longsword into the crowd of squat demons in a broad swathe, aiming just low enough to go for their necks.
Lann turns and swipes at the dretch in the pew behind of him, cleaving straight through one of the little demon's necks. "Ah!" he cries out, covering his ears as the vrock behind him begins to shriek at the top of its lungs.
Ehren, Hinagiku and Isilme are up!
As the Vrock begins to screech, Isilme traces the divine rune एकता in the air before her, drowning out its horrific din with a celestial melody. "هذا لن ينجح هنا ، شيطان!" she calls out in celestial to the vrock before them.
The week leading up to the inauguration was peaceful, if not totally uneventful. Ehren spent most of his mornings demonstrating to some of the other underfolk the same bee-capturing technique he showed Lann. Between the two of them, they had no trouble at all training gatherers competent enough to disseminate the knowledge without further input from the druid. As far as what to do with the captured bees, Ehren trusted that Crocris could handle explaining that part.
On the day of the ceremony, Ehren dons his finest ceremonial garb for the occasion, though seeing as has worn it almost every single day for the past year, this is not exactly surprising. He did not know Hrut very well - circumstances had denied them that lasting connection - but those early days in Kenabres were cherished memories that they both shared. Had they all not met that day, it was all but certain that things would not have turned out the way they did. So it only seemed right that he be here, on what could quite possibly be the most important day of Hrut's life.
Every now and then Ehren steals a glance at Hinagiku, happy that she could be here with him. While he was still mostly a stranger to the concept of romance, having her accompany him as his plus-one to an important ceremony struck him as moderately nicer than say, a diplomatic mission to Sesker's Gully. Any time the two spent together was nice, but he had no complaints about that time not being on a battlefield. Once the ceremony was over, perhaps they could even tour the city together. And perhaps then, he could ask her the question he has been awkwardly dancing around for the past week or so.
As patient as he is, the lengthiness of the ceremony does not bother him in the slightest. There existed druidic and Kellid rites that could be just as long, if not longer, though he supposed to be fair, those tended to be a tad more exciting. With the ceremony reaching its height, Ehren smiles broadly as Hrut approaches the altar, proud of his friend's accomplishment. However, his excitement soon turns into horror when the knight inexplicably transforms into a terrible demon, one with which he was only vaguely familiar. From, things go further downhill very quickly.
"I will see what I can do," Ehren replies to Ary, he himself caught in between a vrock and a troop of squat, ugly demons. He looks to Lann, and then to Hinagiku, trusting that they both know what to do. In truth, there was fairly little he could do for the noblewoman from his current position - Isilme and Valaria were in a far better spot to rescue her from the dretches. On the other hand, there was perhaps something he could do for the high priest.
The archdruid's eyes suddenly light ablaze as he draws on the ley, linking it with his own inner reserves of power. Ignoring the demons surrounding him, Ehren sets his sight on the glabrezu demon and reaches out with his arm, now covered with numerous lines of iridescent light that seen to race to his fingertips. With a wave of his hand, he evokes a flash of brilliant white light that engulfs the demon. But rather than dissipate immediately, the globe of blinding light hangs in midair for several seconds before finally disappearing.
The glabrezu cries out in pain and surprise as the archdruid's spell robs him of sight.
Hinagiku and Isilme are up!
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Hinagiku had just cast a gentle glance toward Ehren when she starts noticing the convulsions, she’s already standing up to go to his aid when the stained glasses to her right is shattered by a horrible vrock and as a horde of smelly onis swarm her, Ehren and Lann. Despite the chaos of demonic shrieks, smells , and innocent’s cries, she still hears Ary calling to her. Turning her head to watch over her shoulder, she just barely notices the noblewoman falling under the weight of the surrounding dretches. Knowing time is short, Hinagiku quickly draws upon the power of the ley. Closing her eyes, she can feel the tendrils of her mother steched across the room, she can sense the shortest path to the poor woman.
As her eyes open, Hinagiku knows what to do."Be careful." she says to Ehren. And then, with one high kick, she strikes at the vrock’s beak before launching into an almost impossible run through the dretches. Crouching down as she rushes, she grabs unto the noblewoman's arm and, using her momentum, slides her across the ground as far as possible from the small onis.
The vrock wheels from Hinagiku's impossibly quick strike. Across the aisle, Aravashnial's mind clears thanks to Isilme's magics. He reaches for one of the many small pouches at his waist and intones magic circle against evil. A transparent silver sphere of force emanates from his center, pushing the dretches back as a wave as it grows outwards from him.
Isilme is up!
The most that the screeching Vrock is able to accomplish with Ary is a slight wince.
"Get over with Hinagiku and Lady Zubova when you can," Isilme says to Aravashnial. "Val, I am going after the high priest, I might come back with an angry Glabrezu..." she says, winking at the tiefling, although Ehren's well-placed burst of radiance makes it significantly more likely that she'll be able to free the priest and escape safely.
Quickly intoning haste, she hits herself, Val, Hinagiku, Aravashnial, Lady Zubova, and any others in their area who seem ready to battle. Making use of the speed granted by the spell, she runs down the aisle, staying clear of the reach of both the Vrocks until she is within reach of the high priest. As she does she draws her ebon star-knife and enchants it to prepare for the fight ahead.
Drawing upon her mythic performance for a second time in a short period, she traces the divine rune 'आज़ादी' in the air, freeing both Kutholiam and a number of the Empyreal guardians who had been stunned by the Vrock. "High Priest Vuere, this way!" she calls out, hoping to get him away from the demon before it regained its vision.
Kutholiam buys the time Ehren and Isilme afforded to him, scrambling to his feet and drawing his own longsword in the process. He backs out into the center aisle alongside the azata and Ser Holton Albright.
Towards the back of the church, the Brevish noblewoman screams shrilly, barely able to comprehend what was happening to her. She gets up and pushes towards the back door to run into the streets. The nobles were mostly seated towards the back, and the cathedral fills with their screams as they struggle to escape into the streets as well, though many are held back by the slobbering dretches. It is just as soon as many of the knights seated towards the front of the church are to their feet that dozens more babau suddenly teleport into the cathedral, creating a chaotic melee.
Though now himself surrounded on all sides, Ser Holton Albright points his blade at the glabrezu. "We need to bring that one down!" he says, as it alights with silver flame. He then drives it into the vrock in front of him.
Meanwhile, Ser Jorsal dives down for his blade, relying on his armor to protect him from another vrock's claws. He whirls upwards, cutting his blade across the demon's stomach.
Round 2!
Valaria, Ary, and Xanderghul are up!
Continuing to allow the pure forces of magic to channel through him, this time Xanderghul shifts to his traditional shadow magic. Converting shadowstuff to a spell of light and darkness is a trivial matter for the archmage, and with but a few words and a trivial gesture Xanderghul reaches out into the mind of another one of the vrocks and evokes light directly into the creature's eyes, overloading it with a variety of light and darkness. If it was unable to resist, its pupils would uncontrollably contract and dilate, giving it a splitting headache and variously taking its ability to see.
Valaria and Ary are up!
Ary's eyes widen as the Vrock instantly falters in its chase of her, slumping before beginning to flow into a puddle on the floor, ichor pouring from its chest as it rapidly decomposed. "The hell... Xander?" she asks, looking to him to see if he was gloating... but he seems to have already shifted his attention to another Vrock. "Right..."
"Great job, Rocky! Wonderful, Isilme!" Ary calls out, over the din, "Now get to safety, as soon as you can!" she says, slipping across from Ser Jorsal, her stance shifting to a higher posture - less able to defend others and more able to lash out. Her sword darts forward towards the Vrock's wing, before she dips inwards, bringing the sword back around towards the other wing, and digs her foot into the cathedral floor, slamming her shield into the creature with a satisfying crunch.
Her eyes dart between the babau assailing Albright's men, and the dretches that have met the wall of flowing water that is Hinagiku. Good, the citizens would be fairly safe, at least... unless there were also foes outside. She'd have to hope that any foes outside would immediately be seen and assaulted. They'd need to meet up with Albright soon, and drive towards the Glabrezu with the time Ehren and Isilme had bought them. That meant bringing down the vrocks as quickly as they could.
"So what kind of rewards do they have planned for an overconfident oaf that fails? Just expect it from a treachery demon? Seems silly to trust something important to a consummate liar, yeah?" Ary quips, trying to continue drawing its attention to herself and away from her allies.
"You prepared to reenact the Third Act on this Vrock when he flips the world on us?" she adds, more quietly to Jorsal.
Valaria is up!
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"Yes. I will be there. It would really be a pleasure to finally meet her. After having heard about her for almost two years now, it feels like its time to meet." Hinagiku answers to Meridrand.
And, after escorting the paladin out of their small monastary, Hinagiku returns to her meditation, unaware of the trials awaiting her in less than a week.
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Val winces as the treachery demon howls and the sound shakes her to her bones. "Thus did the herald's blade, most holy, hew through demon sinew and bone with ease and cast the King of Barrowood from the skies. The great demon's fall echoed for ten and two leagues and all who followed him heard their master tumble from on high." She dashes forward, weaving around the rolling mass of dretches, dodging their putrid bodies to get herself some space before hurling her dagger back into the pack of demons.
Valaria's starknife flies through the pack of demons, slaying three in a large arc before returning to her hand once more. Ahead of her, Ary feints to the right before cutting back and slicing a nasty gash into the vrock's side. Jorsal nods silently across from her, then winces as the glabrezu begins to roar in howl in anger at its own blindness. It takes a few wary, blind steps forwards, then stops as it senses Isilme's presence. It stops and howls, the air and space around it contorting with chaotic energies that assail the mind, leaving those close enough to it reeling in confusion.
"Try to focus through it, Chevalier!" Kutholiam calls through gritted teeth at Isilme.
Across the aisle, the vrock fighting Lann pauses and winces as Xanderghul's magic settles upon its mind... but it sees through the illusion well enough to retain use of its own senses.
Lann is up!
When Hinagiku bolts past him with impossible speed, Lann takes the hint and turns his attention back to the screeching vulture demon behind him. He might not be able to take it on his own, but between him and Ehren... maybe. Picking up on the vrock's odd moment of hesitation, he takes a quick step toward its flank and takes two wild slashes at its legs.
The enormous vrock beats Lann away with one of its greasy black wings. Spores rain down from its feathers onto both young men, which immediately sprout into vined tendrils as they find purchase in their flesh. The demon flies up and away from him, then suddenly splits into 8 identical demons, all flying around their heads. Which was the right one? The cathedral suddenly appeared full of dozens of vrocks.. a terrifying, if purely illusory sight to behold.
Ehren, Hinagiku, and Isilme are up!
"Don't let him pin you down, Isilme! Maintain control!". Ary calls over the din.
Ehren grimaces as the ugly vines erupt from his flesh, more a nuisance than a genuine threat. They can hardly distract him from the spectacle overhead... which is itself almost distracting enough to make him forget that there is still also a blind glabrezu to deal with. On the other hand, he cannot hope to forget about the dretches, on account of their stench.
The druid cuts off his connection to the ley, for the time being, causing the intense light shedding from his eyes to abruptly go dim. He instead shifts his focus to preparing a summoning spell, immediately forming a cluster of orbiting starlights.
Aravashnial uses his magic circle to help escort the terrified merchants and nobles out through the front doors of the cathedral, creating a sphere over which the dretches could not tread.
Hinagiku and Isilme are up!
Isilme laughs at the demon's attempt to confuse her, the spell washing over her with no noticeable effect. "Blind and ineffectual, seems about right for a demon. One of your vrocks died instantly, your dretches scattering, High Priest Vuere escaped your grasp. Do compare notes with Eustoyriax after we send you back to the abyss. He can regale you with the story of how he fled in terror after finding himself incapable of possessing me, which might be more pathetic than that attempt at a confusion spell." As she taunts the demon, she laces her words with bardic magic, sowing doubt in the minds of the demons near her.
As she backs up, she thinks back to the research she had been doing recently. She had picked up quite a few divine runes by now, but one that came naturally to her was the rune for luck. Not surprising given her close ties to the Song of Spheres. "My lady Starsong, lend us your aid!" she calls out, scribing the divine rune 'भाग्य' in the air before her. She imbues it with a fragment of her own divine power, causing it to glow brightly in the same silvery-bluish light as the divine energy she channeled. As its power washes out over the room, the fortunes of those affected seem to shift in the crusaders' favor.
With the noblewoman safely outside, Hinagiku does her best to go back to help the priest up in the altar. Deftly moving through throngs of people, she quickly moves up the aisle, though not quickly enough to reach the strike it before it can act. Still, she interposes herself between Vuere and the oni.
Kutholiam Vuere glances at Hinagiku and Isilme and nods. "Very good. Come, we need to strike it down while it is still blinded. After me!" he roars, a celestial halo of light appearing around his head, as a similar silvery substance wreathes around his longsword. He swipes across the demon's midsection with a wet thwack!, the sheer force of his divinely enhanced blade pushing the enormous demon back ten feet. It crashes into the marble altar behind it.
Meanwhile, Holton Albright cuts at the flying vrocks left and right. "You'll taste my blade soon enough, vrock, I care not how many tricks you have..." he says as yet another demon vanishes before his blade. All around them, the crusader knights mobilize with speed and efficiency to cut down the babaus, while the priests call out for Iomedae's blessing to destroy the vrock spores as they have only begun to germinate.
Round 3!
Valaria, Ary, and Xanderghul are up!
Xanderghul rushes forwards towards the glabrezu, preparing to join in the battle against it... but first, he had to do something about the vrocks menacing his companions. They had sprouted many copies, which would make it difficult for somebody with a mere sword to defeat them. He closed his eyes for a moment, and allowed his consciousness to slip into the memory within him, the memory which contained nearly all magic...
It took but a moment to find the correct spell. When he opens his eyes, Xanderghul is blazing with luminescence, and his hands alight with shimmering violet flame. In response to the flames in his hands, a curtain of roaring violet flame arcs across the back of the cathedral, grazing the glabrezu and engulfing two of the vrocks with its spread. Its flames burn with supernatural sacredness, searing the demons' flesh despite their resistance.
Valaria and Ary are up!
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Valaria is up!
Valaria sees that Aravashnial has the doorway pretty much under control. The dretches cannot get past his force-shield, and he is efficiently escorting the various nobles and merchants out of the cathedral as fast as possible. That left only the glabrezu. Feeling Desna's blessing wash over her after Isilme's prayer, she continues her recitation of the Third Act, which only continues to inspire the throngs of crusaders and priests battling around her. She grabs her starknife and, spotting an opening between the fighting hordes, flings it with great speed all the way across the cathedral floor. The focused power of her throw leaves an impacted wound in the demon's flesh, before the starknife vanishes and reappears in her hand once more. The tiefling then raises a hand to her face reflexively as the roof of the cathedral is suddenly filled with fierce, violet flames. The spell simply melts through over half of the vrocks remaining, though the flames only lick against the glabrezu's weathered hide.
"Incredible!" cries Kutholiam Vuere. "I did not know the Kyonin ambassador was to be present today," he says, turning to Hinagiku.
Ary is up!
The vrock before her vaporized, Ary maneuvers in-between of Kutholiam and Hinagiku, stopping at the priest's side to face the glabrezu. The hulking demon roars, still unable to see any of its foes. The air around it vibrates with energy, which erupts into a multicolored explosion of leaping, ricocheting light.
Lann is up!
Lann's eyes widen ever so slightly when Xanderghul seemingly vaporizes a dozen vrocks at once. Emboldened by this development, he starts to hack at the remaining flock of vulture demons, with little regard as to which of them are real or not.
Lann hacks through a false vrock, causing all of the vulture demons to at once wheel on him... but then in unison they clutch their heads and struggle to keep aloft, as Xanderghul's magic wreaks havoc on their vision.
Ehren, Hinagiku, and Isilme are up!
The power of the priests' prayers causes the vines covering Ehren's skin to crumble away painlessly, leaving him free to concentrate. As his incantation reaches its climax, he infuses his spell with a fraction of his mythic essence, giving his starlights a red glow that seems to seeth with pure rage. Few animals in the world could hope to rival the size of a glabrezu demon, but Ehren knew of a land where primordial creatures still roamed, survivors of an ancient calamity. With that knowledge, he sends his motes of ley forward, carrying with them the memory of primal fury. The lights coalesce, forming an immense armored beast with a tail nearly as long as its body. At its tip is what can only be described as a hammer; the bony mass shines with a metallic sheen, anathema to most demons. Not to this one, perhaps, but the ankylosaurus had other ways of compensating.
"An ceann mór. Tóg síos é!" Ehren commands, caring little for the fact that everyone would soon be converging on the demon. In situations such as this, there is no such thing as overkill. With a bellow, the armored dinosaur charges at the treachery demon, only to cut short by several feet. Twisting its body around, the ankylosaurus swings its tail at the demon, aiming to clobber its wolf-like head.
As his dinosaur follows its orders, Ehren looks up at the vrock Lann is fighting, seeing that it is little more than a nuisance without its compatriots. Clutching the rod of the python in both hands, he steps forward and much like the underfolk man, takes a few swings of his own. Of course, unlike Lann, he actually wants to hit the mirror images.