"Nothing I can do to weaken them is outside Isilme's abilities and it probably has a better chance of working from someone who's better with magic than me. Best I can offer is to keep them off you if they come bursting out and try to kill you in the process."
Xanderghul frowns, seeing the man in the end-stage of his horrible infestation. "We have a more important task than this," he says. "And we don't have the clerical powers to make this easy. I'm not sure that I can justify the usage of my power reserves to save one man, not when another usage of them might be able to save hundreds or thousands of people," he says.
He looks at the others. "What else could we learn here, anyway?"
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"Would there be any clerics within the sanctum of scrolls? I'm uncertain that we have time for a detour with the Demonscope on the line." Ary says to Ivellyn, trying to align everyone's goals, before turning to Xanderghul.
"He's one of the three guardians of the Demonscope, which makes him probably one of the strongest, most wise and trusted Crusaders who yet live. If anyone knows how to get us to the Demonscope in the quickest way possible, it's him. And besides, are you going to let 'couldn't be bothered to save a powerful ally who couldn't survive without your aid' be one of the things you're remembered for?" Ary asks Xanderghul, attempting to goad his ego into doing all of her work for her in convincing him of how important this was - though one was far likely still of less 'worth' to him - but no sooner had she finished that she furrows her brow in concentration and immediately begins to pray. "I will guard the honor of my fellows, both in thought and deed." she begins to recite over and over.
Round 311!
Ser Ivellyn racks her brain as she finishes opening the next cell. "I don't know. The Sanctum is Nerosyan's largest repository of divine scrolls. But I don't know the password to enter. Only the highest ranking knights are permitted entrance."
"There are literal divine scrolls inside of the Sanctum, if you're looking to beg forgiveness before asking permission." Ary hurriedly whispers, "Though, ideally, we get in together before any demons have the chance to."
Hinagiku lets go of the cell's door to look back and forth between Ary and Xanderghul discussing their options. And, before the wizard can answer to Ary's last argument, she breaks her silence.
"Mr. Xanderghul, we were also told the demonoscope needs to be sustained by faith. With ser Jormals safe, we would be sure that someone can maintain its power and keep at bay further onis."
Xanderghul shakes his head. He really doesn't want to be remembered as the person who let someone die, even though he could do something. It's just...according to his calculations, there was almost no way it would really work.
Bah. He wouldn't be the person who wouldn't even try.
He taps into the place within him where he draws his power from. The reservoir was deep, and Xanderghul draws from it deeply, pulling until it is entirely empty. He flares with magical strength as he does so. He begins to recite the words for the dismissal spell, arcane words that are connected to purity, cleanliness, and conformity. The words provide a framework in which to contain the energy, and Xanderghul presses his hands together. He rubs one sharply over the other, like he is brushing sand off of them, and Jormal is suddenly washed with a burst of abjurative energy that push at the chatterer swarms, attempting to push them directly through the wall between this reality and the next.
"Begone from this place and harm this man no more!" Val snarls, her words echoing with near supernatural force. "Your discordant voices have no meaning here."
With a burst of color and light, the hundreds of tiny parasites within the man are sent back to the Abyss from whence they came. Suddenly free of their vile influence, Ser Jormal falls to his knees, coughing up blood. Though no longer at death's door, he is still horrifically wounded from the ordeal. Looking up at his saviors he croaks, "Please... stop him. Stop Hrut."
Round 312!
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A bit tense at the sight of Xanderghul's powerful magical display and Valaria's intimidating tone, Hinagiku relaxes ever so slightly as ser Jormal fall down and emplores them to stop her companion's friend.
"Master of master, please heal this man so his wisdom may strengthen others." she gently whispers while motioning for Ivellyn to come and unlock the door to the priest's cell.
Ehren waits until the chevalier has unlocked the cell before hurrying in to tend to the knight's wounds. His companions' propensity for averting absolute catastrophe would never cease to amaze him - now they all just need to do so again, for all of Nerosyan.
"Ser Jormal, what is going on?" Ehren asks as he uses his healing wand's power without even touching it. He speaks as gently as he can with his rumbling voice, but there is no hiding the urgency in its tone. "What does Hrut have to do with this disaster?"
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Smugly satisfied at having been able to accomplish the only real action of value, Xanderghul steps back onto his heels. Then, he begins to pace around the perimeter of the group, a paranoia fueled by thousands of knives in the back keeping watch while the other, more caring members of the group could interview the knight.
Ser Jormal smiles gratefully as Ehren and Hinagiku work together to help lessen his pain. "Thank you, sir...oh... forgive me, for not knowing your name. It can be difficult to stay abreast of new recruits as we keep watch." He slowly rises to his feet and steps out as soon as Ivellyn opens his cell door. His smile vanishes into a thin, narrow line. "So you know of Hrut, the new initiate to the Holy Sentinels. Just moments ago he burst into the sanctum of the Demonscope, overpowered Ser Ellord and stole from him his control shard, then fled the premises entirely. I gave him chase, only to lose him just as the prisons were suddenly swarming of demons."
He swallows. "The Demonscope is an incredibly powerful artifact, which is tuned to a very fine divine harmony by channeling our very faith through the three control shards. Ser Mikhail is a young and valorous knight, but I fear that even he will not be able to control it for much longer. If we do not find the control shard which Hrut has stolen, then the artifact will likely explode. Please, we must go right away." He winces, leaning against the dungeon wall for support. "Ugh. Though... I fear I will not be of much help in my current state. I thank you much for your healing, but the injuries I have sustained are great."
"Thank you, Val, Xander. We couldn't have done it without you." Ary says, inclining her head, before returning her attention to Ser Jormal. "The password to enter, is it the Names of the Saints, their Virtues, or something else? Is there another way into the Sanctum? Is there a way to locate your shards?" Ary asks, quickly leaping through the questions on her mind.
"Hrut Ingvarson was a friend." Ary says, acknowledging his question. "We parted ways in Kenabres, but then began to work together once more in Drezen. I... do not believe him to be a traitor, though we did destroy a Glabrezu who had taken his form before crossing the city... so if it isn't miles away, it could be literally anywhere in between. How long can he last? Would you, or one of us, be able to stand in for him? Would it be something we could scry for if we had the time?" she says, looking from person to person who happened to be present.
"If we knew for certain he had it on him when he died, and what it was, Ehren could undoubtedly go and retrieve it in nearly no time at all, right?"
After hearing about the situation through her spell, Isilme replies, "Perhaps we can get all the crusaders into the sanctum and barricade them in. We can check on the scope and then track down Hrut. I doubt the Glabrezu we killed was the Hrut Jormal described having left the sanctum, however."
"The onis are devious, I also have a feeling that the glabrezu didn't have the shard." Hinagiku weights in before falling silent in wait for Jormal's answers to Ary's question.
"The Sanctum of Scrolls is password protected. The current password, I believe, is the names of Saint Clydwell's original three disciples," he says, simply. "The Sanctum of the Demonscope, or as we call it, the Heart Chamber can only be accessed by those who have been chosen for induction into the Holy Sentinels. Alternatively, it can be possible to simply twist the shield upon the door, but only by one who whose bright soul is already promised Heavensward. The door cannot even be touched by those who are evil, and is actively harmful to those who do not walk in our Inheritor's footsteps. But, to be true, only individuals such as our Crusader Queen herself and the Second Circle Sword-Knights would have the strength of spirit necessary to open the door."
Ser Amrith, Ser Kaspin, and Chevalier Trebin were the three disciples of Saint Clydwell, and the original three Holy Sentinels.
To Ary's other questions, he merely shakes his head. "No, I fear that we were attacked by the true Hrut Ingvarson. No demon, nor even a mere mortal cultist, could have possibly opened the Sanctum door. And there is no chance a glabrezu could have entered the Sanctum without our knowing. Through Clydwell's ingenuity we are able to scan as far as the entire city for demon-kind if needed, and no demon can pass through the outer garrisons of the Spire without our knowledge."
He furrows his brow, slumping heavily down onto the floor. The exertion of even walking was too much for him. "Ser Mikhail alone will not have much time. I can hear the sound of something trying to break down the inner Sanctum door. The demons must have found a way around the Sanctum of Scrolls. If they reach him, all will be lost. However, I fear that in my current state I will be more of a liability to you than an aid. If you clear the way to the Sanctum door, I can open it for you. I can then help assist Ser Mikhail in containing the Demonscope to the best of my ability, buying you time to find Hrut." He closes his eyes. "Though... if it comes to it... perhaps one of you would have the strength needed to channel one of the control stones." He opens his eyes, glancing over Ary's shield. Even though he does not know her name, he understands her rank through the military badges stitched onto her tabard. "Lord-Commander Bishop... Old Ellord knew a Bishop, once," he grins distantly, clearly beginning to slip in and out of consciousness from the sheer pain of his injuries. "To hear him tell the tale... If anyone could stand to the task... a Bishop could..."
"I... do not believe Hrut to have been a cultist all this time. There must be some other answer, perhaps the Glabrezu..." Ary begins, but then shakes her head. "It doesn't matter, now. If he still lives, we will be able to attempt to reach him through Sending. As above, so below. There's less risk for me to try the door than for the city if I don't. Xanderghul mentioned that the way forward would likely collapse under an armored figure, so we'll need to use what remains of Ehren's levitation. I should be able to carry some of the heavier among us across." she says, beginning to pull out her rope, "While the others aid directly in our egress. Should we attempt to collapse the tunnels on the demons intentionally?"
While you stand out in the storage room, keeping a wary eye on the corridor that leads back to the surface, you start to feel a strange nagging feeling on the outer corners of your essence. Then, in an instant flash of understanding, you are suddenly aware of many things simultaneously. You know that, at this very moment, your pupil Bellandrus is back at Drezen, pacing around the Pathfinder Lodge's library. He has been carrying out your task of assisting the others with their assignments. Of your other charges, Meryl has been the most difficult, taking a sort of mischievous glee from tormenting his substitute mentor with many challenging questions. Bellandrus knew relatively little about alchemy, but was too prideful to admit that, and so he was here researching the topic of nightmare vine toxin. As he struggles through advanced alchemistry scrolls by candlelight, he focuses on one thought, strong and pure enough that it has reached you across a great distance - What would Kýrios do.....
Xanderghul suddenly stops and stands up straight, a look of consternation and confusion upon his face. As he reflects upon the vision of his pupil, he experiences a moment of pride...for another. Bellandrus was carrying out his vision to the letter. He was working hard to help another, and by doing so, he was educating himself rather than turn to another for rescue. It was going exactly according to plan, and Xanderghul's approval flows across the breadth of space between them.
Snapping out of it, Xander looks at the others. "Well, I guess we're making a go of it, yeah? Lead the way, Ser."
Ser Jormal lays on the ground, resting. His chest rises in labored breaths. "I would only hold you back. Please, go without me, he croaks. "We don't have time."
Round 313!
"Perhaps mind control of some sort," Val offers off-hand. "But regardless of the reason, we won't understand the full picture until we catch up with the demons further ahead. And the sooner we put a stop to this, the sooner we have our answers."
"Hurry over with everyone, we should move quickly. I will open the door once you all are near."
Isilme steps forward as the others approach and rests her hand upon the door again. Quietly but directly she intones each name in turn: "Ser Amrith... Ser Kaspin... Chevalier Trebin" and then readies herself for the portal's opening. Pressed against the wall, she listens intently and studies the door, looking for any sign of occupants within the room.
Round 315!
The knight closes his eyes and rests against the wall. The heroes, lead by Ary, head down the hallway with haste to regroup with Isilme. She turns around the corner and comes into darkness once again, but she can see glimmers of light shining around the sides of the iron door ahead.
As Isilme starts to open the door, a voice calls out - "Halt! I am armed! Identify yourself!"
"Chevalier Lleuad-a'r-Sêr," she speaks with certainty in a calm tone of voice. "Commander Bishop is behind me. We are here to protect the inner sanctum. If you would be so kind as to reciprocate..."
"Wait... did you say Ary? By Torag's beard, am I glad to hear that! Hurry up, come in," The door opens...
The iron door opens into a small room with bookshelves full of scrolls and tomes, tables covered with more texts, assorted potion bottles with tiny tags hanging from them, a wooden rack with several brass balls covered in studs, and a pair of iron weapons that resemble crossbows lacking strings sits on a shelf.
The iron door opens, revealing a large, barren room. It appears rarely used, judging by the thick later of dust.
At the center of the room is Hrut Ingvarson. A nearly 7 foot tall beast of a man, Hrut wears simple, banded armor. He has a glowing spiked steel shield on his left arm, and the distinctive axe Fiendsplitter in his right. The blade is stained black with blood, and he looks more disheveled than usual, but happy to see everyone. "Friends! How am I not surprised to see you here, of all places? It is as well, I need your help..."
Val just blinks in confusion. "What?" Her eyes narrow and she looks back. "Uh, so I'm not the only one who sees that something is definitely not adding up, right?"
"If you are truly Hrut, then you should have no qualms with allowing me to touch Fiendsplitter," Isilme says, stepping forward. "We have little time, and there is no faster way to determine the truth of this situation. You will have to forgive my appearance for the time being."
Hrut stares at Isilme with confusion. "And who are you, exactly?" he asks. He looks up at Ary, sighs, and relaxes. "Sure, have at it. But it's not happy right now."
Reaching out to touch Fiendsplitter, your mind is filled with a cacophony of dwarven voices. They are loudly imploring you to go back down the stairs, and finish the demons off. They seem agitated, but they don't attempt to exert any of their will on you.
"There's a half dozen or so still left down there... more than I can take on my own. But fighting side-by-side, we can surely defeat them!"
Her hand still resting upon the weapon, she focuses upon the axe, trying to reach out to it. Hopefully it would clarify things quickly, saving Hrut the problem of explaining. "Hear me Fiendsplitter, I fulfilled my promise to you. Tell me what has occurred here and what Hrut has been doing, and we shall slay the remaining demons together."
"Demons demons demons..."
"Killed so many demons! Yes! So many to be sent back to the Abyss!"
"But then we stopped. We stopped fighting."
"Demons can not be tolerated to live... no. no..."
"We must go back! We must go back immediately!"
"Kill them all..."
"It is certainly fiendsplitter," she says, turning to look at the others. "You should explain what has happened from your point of view as we head down to fight... If you will excuse me for a moment."
Isilme steps aside and reaches out to the surrounding bookcases and shelves, calling to the writings within the room to reveal themselves to her. If they were in one of the foremost repositories of scrolls in Nerosyan, she was certainly not going to let them leave without grabbing some to aid their cause.
"The Abyss never seems to run out of demons to throw at this place. I'm amazed they ever stop sieging the city. What kind of demons are they? And what the f*ck happened here?"
There are hundreds of scrolls in this room. You can tell the majority of them are divine - prayers to Iomedae etched into vellum. A few of them are actually arcane. The magic here ranges from healing, to fighting enhancements, to offensive spells to destroy demons. There are also a large number of unlabelled potions, and numerous texts on demonology. Helpfully, the bookcases are at least labelled, each in Celestial with a school of magic - Conjuration, Necromancy and so on. The magic of many of these scrolls far exceeds your own mastery of divine or arcane magic.
Hrut frowns at the bossy dwarf but then his shoulders sag and his face falls as he turns to face Valaria. He is clearly eager to go fight, but knows that he can not do so alone. "I must confess... I have made a horrible mistake and must do what I can to set it right. As you know, I have spent these past few weeks here living at the Starrise Spire, undergoing training to join the Order of the Holy Sentinels. It is during these trainings, that I learned the truth."
"The demonscope is not just an artifact, it is a jail... a tomb crafted by Saint Clydwell to house a trapped balor. It then channels the balor's unholy strength to power incredible feats of scrying. Learning of this truth did not sit well with me... and then one night, I was visited by an angel that stated he was Al'Asadriel himself. He said that long ago, he had taught Saint Clydwell how to trap the balor to save lives, but then went on to pervert his words, creating an unstable artifact in the process. The demonscope was a ticking bomb, set to detonate any moment beneath the heart of the crusades itself... Al'Asadriel had chosen me to correct this wrong, ending the long chain of misguided traditions that had corrupted his order."
He shakes his head. "So... instead of presenting myself at the inauguration, I snuck down to the Heart Chamber, and at Al'Asadriel's instruction stole one of the control shards to purify and destroy it. I realized what I had done almost immediately as demons immediately began attacking the keep... cursing myself a fool, I doubled back to the chamber, only to find it teeming with invaders. More demons hemmed me in from behind. For awhile, I stood alongside many other knights who heeded the call... but we were driven back...I think I am the only one to survive." He pulls out a small, ivory shield-shaped trinket from his pocket. "I need to return this, before it is too late. Please, I need your help, now more than ever."
Ehren cannot help but smile when he first sees that Hrut is alive and well, but the truths he unveils to them soon extinguish any feelings of joy or relief. Learning of the demonscope's true nature, it is impossible for him not to immediately think of the moment he first laid eyes on the Storm King. All this time, the Crusades had been holding a demon of comparable might prisoner beneath their own capital, all the while using its wicked power for their own righteous ends. It is all too easy for Ehren to understand Hrut's misgivings. And yet, Hrut's gullibility had set into motion a catastrophic chain of events.
"There is still time to fix this," Ehren agrees finally, nodding his head. He very much doubts that Hrut needs them to impress upon him the gravity of his offense. The most important thing now is to focus on the task at hand. "We will help you, Hrut. What kinds of demons are down there?"
Hrut smiles at Ehren gratefully, appearing relieved that he was not being admonished. "There is a nabasu and many dretches... but also two cultists in heavy plate. Antipaladins, I would hazard a guess. They're incredibly strong. But, still, not a match for our combined might!"
Xanderghul is suspicious. He is always suspicious, but this time, his suspicion is enough to fuel magic of pure willpower. Under his breath and practically unconscious of what he is doing, Xanderghul mutters 'Show me the corruption of demons'. His perception opens up, allowing him to sense the presence of demons, demon worshipers, demonic gifts and boons, and the effects of demonic spells.
While, to Xanderghul's eyes, Isilme steps aside to inspect a dust-covered half-broken shelf on the wall, the archmage inspects the crusader before him for any evidence of demonic tomfoolery.
Round 1: You detect no evil outsiders, nor traces of their magic.
Round 316!
Ary's brow furrows as she listens... not only was there a Demon in Nerosyan, but the Demon was one of the most powerful things in the entire city, performing a blessed duty of keeping everyone safe. That was... frankly insane to even consider. She shakes her head, and refocuses on Hrut's story.
Ary begins to speak up, to chide Hrut for not having verified that the angel was who it said it was. But had she even questioned her dream with Iomedae? And to Hrut, this angel was likely simply a step back from Torag, or maybe even directly beside. No... Ary would not have asked Iomedae to state her Acts... she would have accepted anything that were asked of her - and, if the stars aligned, perhaps been so lucky as Hrut to discover her mistake in time to fix it. She swallows, and nods to Hrut, taking Isilme at her word that the axe was Fiendsplitter.
She shifts her attention back to her allies. "How tall is the roof down there? If the Nabasu isn't capable of flight, I believe casting a Death Ward, if we have access to it, and granting it to Daisy, and her driving forward to annihilate it quickly is the best course of action. Are there any ghouls below? Have the Nabasu successfully drained you at all, Hrut?" she pauses for another moment, "How are there so many powerful cultists here, even disregarding those in the prisons? There must be someone capable of teleportation... or a lot of faith in the Nabasu and Vrock and Succubi to allow them to carry them here."
As she speaks she reaches into one of her belt pouches, and pulls out a pinch of silver, "I can cast a circle of protection once today. How should I use it before we press forward?"
Ehren returns Hrut's smile, while trying very hard not to think of what will happen to him once this crisis is over. "We did not come this far to fail now."
"Your magic circle should work just as well on anyone who plans to engage the demons directly. And I still have a death ward prepared," the druid says, nodding to Ary. He looks about, eyeing the frankly ludicrous number of scrolls occupying the chamber. "There might even be some scrolls of it, somewhere in here."
Xanderghul relaxes his spell as he realizes that he was merely dealing with a gullible mortal fool, rather than a powerful shapeshifting demon or an especially tricky cultist. Looking around at the bare room around him, he also regards Isilme as she searches through it. He frowns before asking "Is there something in this room that I'm not seeing?"
He also jerks a thumb back the way they came. "I'll signal Ivellyn." Then he holds his hand out before his mouth and begins whispering. As he whispers, a breeze inexplicably wafts past him. As he finishes his sentence, the breeze whooshes down the hallway at the pace of a runner, carrying his message to the hallway where they had left the other Crusaders.
'The Sanctum of Scrolls is clear, but be careful of the collapsed hallway on the right. Skirt the left wall. Come and take refuge. Bishop.'
"Apart from all the scrolls?" she responds distractedly. "Too many..."
The number of scrolls was large enough that she couldn't even begin to compile a list of what was available in the time they had. Instead she would need to just try to focus her search on things that would be immediately useful. She concentrates, searching first for a spell that would aid in healing the party. They would need as much help as possible going forward, and no one would mind if the scrolls here were put to good use.
Round 319!
While Isilme fishes around, procuring scrolls from the shelves, Hrut cracks his neck and stretches his arms. "There is a low ceiling, maybe 12'? Don't worry about me. I'm in as good fighting shape as I will ever be." He stands up, sliding a wall out of the way to reveal a winding staircase that leads downwards into the darkness. "Tell me when you're ready to move. We should get going as soon as possible."
Round 319!
"Here Xanderghul, use this on Ary," Isilme says as she rifles through the scrolls, pulling out a healing scroll quickly. "And you all should get moving to fight immediately. I will keep looking through the shelves and join you if you call for me, or if Ivellyn and the others make it safely in."
"Wait, you can't see it?" Val asks curiously. That was... an interesting way to go about security. She wondered if the scroll simply appeared instantly in Isilme's hand when she offered it to him. "Illusion magic? I guess generations of mages will all have their own ideas of how to keep these kinds of places." She shakes her head. "Whatever. Yeah, we should get down there and save the damn thing already. We don't need them getting away with a critical resource and a trapped balor at the same time."
"Let us make haste," Ehren says, moving to Hinagiku's side. He draws on the ley's power and places a hand against her back, imparting her soul with a ward that would stave off most death magic. The gesture would appear intimate, if not for the fact that he is currently a seven-foot tall rock monster.
Xanderghul blinks as the scroll becomes visible in Isilme's hands and she gives it to him. He furrows his brow. "Hmm. We'll see if this works!" The uncertainty causes a grin to split his face, and he takes the scroll.
He squints at the thing, his nascent divine nature giving him some insight into its function. Then he simply tries to force it to work, using brute-force magical power.
His hands glow with powerful positive energy. He reaches forward and touches Ary, his borrowed spell suffusing her with additional life and soothing her wounds and her exhaustion.
Round 327!
The heroes get a head start on Isilme down the stairs as she finishes up looking through the shelves for scrolls.
A few moments after the others leave down the stairs, the other crusaders emerge through the door. Chevalier Ivellyn and another crusader help carry an unconscious Ser Jormal between the two of them. The other crusaders are in varying states of health - the worst of them have lost limbs, with only hasty bandages being applied to staunch the bleeding.
"Thank you for sending for us," says Chevalier Ivellyn. "The others have gone on ahead, then?" she asks.
The bottom of the stairs lets out into darkness, though the loud THOOM. THOOM. THOOM. sound that the heroes had heard before has become louder still, and now accompanied with the occasional scraping and creaking sounds of stone being bashed against metal. But before they can even leave the stairwell, they come upon a large, glowing red Abyssal rune left on the floor directly in front of the doorframe .
There is a symbol of pain amongst the runes.
There is a symbol of fear amongst the runes.
"Hold on," Ehren warns as they come upon the Abyssal rune, knowing full well that it must have been placed with deliberate purpose. Though he lacks Isilme's expertise on runic magic, a simple orison would allow him to discern the symbol's magic nature.
"The rune is a symbol of pain and fear," Ehren remarks. Assuming that his mere act of reading the symbol has not already activated it, he adds, "I suspect that attempting to pass over it will trigger its magic."