Unafe is thinking about Ehren's words as they wait for the Ancestors come to visit him. It is hard to imagine the Archdruid's friends being a group of Southerners..but if he says they are good people then perhaps they are. What else has changed sitting my captivity?
When the Sacred Ancestors suddenly arrive, Unafe watches Ehren's face keenly, wondering what the Archdruid was learning from them.
When he says he’s ready, she nods, ”As you wish.”
Up with the others, Unafe breathes in the fresh air and gives them a look with fresh eyes.
Turning to the witch, she asks, "Time to go where? Where do you go now?"
And where do I go? At the thought of finding her way back home, she feels dread rise in her throat.
The others now arrived at the makeshift shelter, Aerona climbs atop Jesker's horse, ready to leave. Jesker is slumped against her, still unconscious. Outside it was still pouring with rain, so she pulls up her hood. She furrows her brow and looks to Unafe, but doesn't respond to her, not possessing the confidence to speak very freely in front of so many highly ranked superiors.
"I believe Jesker will survive, though Ehren could do a better job examining him," she responds to Xanderghul. "Are you alright, Aerona? What exactly happened before we arrived?"
"Thinking on the battle in there, I cannot help but wonder if that demon was Delamere herself, or possessed her during her life. The guardians of the crypt seemed to acknowledge it as such. I suspect that means the teachings in that book were likely those she espoused herself during her final days," Isilme says, thinking aloud. "If so, we should likely not leave her corpse there unguarded, lest someone attempt to raise her or animate her."
Turning to Unafe, she answers her question: "We will return to Drezen, the crusader citadel we operate out of. You should come with us, it is not safe to travel out here in the worldwound alone."
Unafe lets her saurian form fade, and again is a young Kellid woman. Rain runs through her unruly brown hair, taming it somewhat.
At Isilme's suggestion, she frowns, clearly torn. "'Crusader citadel.' What does that mean? Why are you in Sarkoris?"
The small, feathered saurian crawls again out of Unafe's pack. She jumps to the ground and begins to flick her tongue in and out, smelling the strangers with interest. After a pause, Unafe adds, "I have a duty to protect the Demetae...or at least I had one. My people may have all been slain, but I owe it to them to check."
Xanderghul frowns at Isilme's suggestion that they go back into the poisonous tomb to dispose of a buried corpse. "I can air bubble someone -- Ary, I suppose -- if we really want to. I'm sure that I could use some of the profits from Delamere's equipment to fund the school."
"However," he adds, slowly, "I'm not sure I like the optics of breaking open a sarcophagus and incinerating an honored corpse. Isn't that how you get curses? Or hauntings?"
Meanwhile, Valais pulls out her journal and once again begins to dictate, "The Heroes of Drezen descend into the lava-filled chasm. With a new ally at their back, the enter a cave filled with deadly poison gas. The cave shelters a new enemy, a blasphemous demon that threatens the Heroes allies..."
"Master of masters, this woman has proven a faithful ally and resilient person. The passage of time has left her wounded though, please renew her vigour so she might enter this new time strong and ready to continue her path toward perfection." Hinagiku intones, clutching a blue holy symbol with a hand carved into it. White and blue wisp begin to encircle not only Unafe but all of those around (including Jesker), healing their wounds.
Having said that, Hinagiku makes her way to Xanderghul's side.
"I believe Mr. Xanderghul is right, dishonouring any corpse feels wrong to me. Do we not have better ways to prevent someone from coming back from the dead? Maybe Mr. Sosiel would know how to do so, no?" Hinagiku gently suggests.
"If you want to search for your Tribe Mrs. Unafe, you should seek some companions to go with you. The wo.... Sarkoris has changed a lot in the last years and is a dangerous place to travel through alone, even for someone of your strength." as she speaks, the monk looks toward Ary, wondering whether the commander would offer to Unafe to travel together. They were themselves heading into the worldwound afterall, Ehren still needed to fix matters between some kellids and the crusaders.
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Ary exhales what little breath she has left and then immediately begins to pant. The time spent in the volcano hadn't been long enough to press her to a breaking point... but it had certainly been uncomfortable. Had they wound up in another fight the situation could have devolved quite rapidly.
She waits for Ehren and Unafe to ascend completely before putting her weight on the ropes and working her way up, and once there, arrives to hear the others conversing.
"Huh." she says as Unafe mentions the Demetae. "I have good news or perhaps bad news on that front. The Demetae are still alive. They've recently killed a few of my scouts... had this event not interrupted things, I likely would have already asked everyone here to go with me to speak to them." she pauses for a moment, tilting her head. She'd clearly missed something, though.
"How does she not know of Drezen?" she asks, before shaking her head and turning her attention to Unafe directly. "Drezen is a Crusader city. We only recently took it back from a few decades of occupation." she responds, then as a lack of recognition continues, she frowns slightly, "We've been fighting a war with the Demons of the Worldwound for around a century?" she asks, continuing to fish for some sign of understanding from Unafe. As it becomes rapidly clear that everything is 'news' to Unafe, she continues.
"I'm a soldier from the South, we came here to try to prevent the opening of the World Wound from spreading ever outwards. We were successful in some ways, and then less so for a time. Then we managed to build a wall of sorts that actually worked. We... recently removed that wall from the equation. The majority of the people who work with me are worshipers of Iomedae, though nearly all good and a few of the less good gods are also represented. I'm Ary. You seem to already know Ehren. This is Hinagiku, she's a monk from across the Crown of the World, and worshiper of Irori." she continues, not expounding on the deities overmuch for now. "This is Isilme. She's a bard and recent priestess of Desna. This is Xanderghul. He worships himself." she adds without a hint of derision nor sarcasm. "And these are Jesker and Aerona, clergy of Erastil." she finishes finally. "Oh. And their horse. I didn't catch its name." she says, smiling affably to the newcomer.
The smile fades after a moment, however, as she turns her attention to Jesker. "He... will need some help beyond just healing. Once one of those demons attaches itself to you it diverts your very soul, and in the case of the divine, changes where you draw your magic from entirely. Without atonement, he will never be himself again... and will likely continue to spread Delamere's blasphemies." she says, chewing her lip. "So... be careful with him. He could make a break for it, or try to harm us during our return home." she looks back to Isilme, "As for Delamere... I agree with not just leaving well enough alone, here. If we do leave it here, we should consecrate the body... or cremate it in some way, so as to prevent it from being returned to life. Any ideas on how we'd go about those things without breaking with tradition?" she says, eyes moving from Isilme to Ehren.
She doesn't mention the probably magical things that had been buried with the vain woman, though they do cross her mind. Tools shouldn't be buried with the dead.
Once he reaches the top of the crevasse, Ehren reverts to his human form. Relaxed somewhat by his return to solid ground, he joins in on the discussion about their next course of action. When Ary brings up the Demetae, the druid looks to Unafe apologetically. He worried that mentioning it too soon would send her off in that direction, her wounds and all.
"Ary speaks truly, Unafe. It is fortuitous indeed that we have met," he says.
"For once I think you are overestimating the enemy's resourcefulness," Ehren starts with a frown, elaborating on his reasoning. "The tomb went undisturbed for over three hundred years. If not for that demon - who I agree must have shared some kind of connection to Delamere herself - Jesker would never have found this place. I very much doubt that a necromancer will seek out this place."
After giving it another moment of thought however, he relents somewhat. His misgivings about the situation aside, he could not speak for all of his people, much less the dead blasphemers.
"That said, a hallow spell would prevent her body from being raised, so long as she is interred here. If you wish to disturb her remains, however... you would be better served by consulting an Erastilian." He looks to Aerona pointedly, his expression softening somewhat. "Delamere was Kellid, but as a priestess of a god, she bound herself to different traditions than most, though I suspect she lost the Stag God's favor well before her death. Are there any customs that dictate what we should do, Aerona?"
"I am not certain we would hesitate to deal with the tomb of a Deskarran or other demon worshipper who has committed evil acts. I am not certain why this would be different. For all we know the demon was looking to bring back Delamere, to claim to be Erastil's Herald reborn, hence the reason for preserving her body perfectly after all this time. We know for a fact that the demon will eventually be back to the tomb--once it reforms in the abyss and heads out into the worldwound--and in the process may well corrupt another follower of Erastil. Leaving the tomb simply provides her a tool for accomplishing that goal."
Aerona's ears turn bright red when the Lord Commander turns to address her. She fidgets with her hood to wrap it closer around her head, hoping that no one noticed. "D-Delamere was from a long time ago.... g-given what little I saw in her book... I hesitate to say she worshipped the same god as we do." She sighs. "The god I know would never stand for any of those things... let alone use foul undead for barrow-guards."
She pats the horse's neck. "His name's Paddy, and he's far too old for being stuck all the way out here, aren't you? Aren't you? Sssh, now. We'll be home soon."
"Somehow, I find myself unworried about that outcome," responds Xanderghul to Isilme's conjecture that the demon would return to interfere again. "Shachaths are not able to raise the undead, and it may well be years before the demon is able to return to life, travel to the Rasping Rifts, and then enter the Material Plane again. I believe we hope to close the Rift before more years pass?"
Then he turns to Unafe, to offer even more explanation. "It seems you're from a bygone time," he says. "Perhaps even before the Wound opened? If so, I must tell you - Sarkoris is gone. Or... nearly gone. Only a few small villages remain. Iz is at the center of a massive rift that leads to an otherworldly realm. Demons spill from the rift on a daily basis, and we are soldiers in the war to prevent those demons from overwhelming the rest of the world."
"I am Xander. I am a schoolmaster, and an illusionist. This is Valais, my assistant and scribe." He gestures at the aasimar standing beside him, who is narrating the conversation as it happens.
He turns to the others. "I think we should find someplace nearby to rest. We -- by which I mean Ehren -- have been traveling all day. It was not early when we started, and we have found ourselves in a fight. Maybe we can have a more extended conversation once we've found shelter. Anyone have any ideas?"
"I should hope so, Xander," Ehren responds, looking around at the lava-filled wasteland the region has become. They would reclaim it sooner or later, but he could only wonder if they could recapture a glimmer of the beauty it once possessed. He listens as the wizard explains the Worldwound's opening to Unafe, unable to imagine what it must be like to learn of such a thing for the first time.
He takes a deep breath before continuing. "It will be a long time before that demon will be able to return. Hallowing the tomb and sealing it off should be more than sufficient. Frankly, anything more would be retribution that is centuries too late. Delamere has already met her final judgment."
"In any case, I agree that we should rest. I have power enough left over to conjure a space for us to stay. Somewhere hidden from the dangers of the Worldwound." Ehren suggests, indeed feeling rather weary after his long flight. He walks over to the horse and rests a hand on its shoulder. "I could also make Paddy here a bit more portable. Spare him from having to make another long trek."
Xanderghul nods. "It's not a perfect solution, but I can create semi-real air bubbles for two people hoping to re-enter the cave and deal with the body," he adds.
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The Demetae yet live… Tears well in Unafe’s eyes as the Southern soldier--Ary, her name is--explains a hundred tragic years in seconds. She stands quietly, taking in only bits of the conversation around her. Iomadae...Irori...New, foreign gods coming to Sarkoris?...A ‘crusader city’?...A ‘world...wound’ that pours forth demons to savage us?
She stands silent, tears flowing quietly. Suddenly her knees tremble and then buckle. Her face pressed into the rain-soaked earth, she sobs loudly...and between sobs, she cries out
"No one can really say when a demon will return, it could be a month from now or a decade from now, and we have no idea if the rift can even be truly closed. The only thing we are tasked with for the moment is pushing back the demons. The fact that there is no definitive answer for how to seal the rift as of today, given what Aravashnial has said, is proof enough that we cannot bet on any simple or quick solution being found anytime soon," Isilme argues, looking at Ehren and Xanderghul.
"When would we ever hesitate to destroy the tomb or temple of a demon or their cultists? We did not hesitate in dealing with Laktharis, nor with the shrine of Baphomet we found recently near Drezen. Her tomb should be destroyed, not hallowed and sealed. Anything in there that can be used for the crusades should be taken, and her corpse consigned to the lava."
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Xander regards Unafe passively as she starts to cry. Of course it made sense that she was devastated by the news that her homeland had been destroyed and that the end was near.
He approaches Isilme and lays a hand on her, imbuing her with a measure of shadowy evocation. Swirling wind appears around her head, giving her a breath of fresh air every thirty seconds or so. "Go ahead," he says.
"Unafe -- that is your name, right?"
"Come with us, back to our city. You've been wounded, you have no possessions. We have public housing where we can shelter you, and we have educators who can help you understand what the world has become in your absence."
"As I understand, we plan to go to the Demetae lands soon anyway. Just come with us when we do. Hinagiku is right. Sarkoris is no longer safe for lone travelers."
He turns to Ehren. "You said you can conjure us a place to stay. Should we stay here, with the lava rift, or try to find someplace a little more hospitable?"
Ary gives the Sarkorian a bit less attention as she begins to break down from the news. As Xanderghul mentions that she was likely lost to time, she frowns, realizing that even if the Demetae still lived, they were certainly not her Demetae. She huffs quietly, listening to the others speak. As always, Ary had a knack for honesty of the blunt force variety.
"I don't believe that there is anything we can do for her soul, now that she's long-dead. She likely lived for years under the demon's twisting influence, dragging her further and further into insanity. It'd... be hard to come back from such a dark place. Not impossible, but I'm almost certain we could do little to set things right. So... I agree that we should do our best to close this off more permanently. And... I agree with Isilme that it would be wise to take what we can. Without the tools she carries, people could die." she pauses, glancing back to Unafe, with her whirling torrent of spirits, Ary couldn't help but wonder if they were mourning along with her.
"I'll go with you. But we should plan to run if things start to go badly." she adds, before looking back to Xanderghul, "Definitely someplace more hospitable. I'd normally say that that is miles away... but this close to one of the tears is unsafe for any amount of time we don't have to spend."
"This is not a place of worship. It is a burial ground," Ehren protests. "No wicked gods or demon lords have any power here. And for any other grave of cultists, we would bless it and move on, not exhume their corpses and claim their trinkets as our own."
When it becomes clear that Ary is taking Isilme's side on the matter, Ehren sighs exasperatedly. Continuing the argument any further would just go in circles, and it is not as though he intends to physically restrain them. "Do what you must. Just get it done quickly."
Finally, the druid moves closer to Unafe, kneeling down and placing a hand on her shoulder. Succinct as it was, Xander's description of events was a great deal to take in all at once.
"Mae fel y dywedais, Unafe," Ehren says with a gentle smile. "Nid yw'r cyfan yn cael ei golli."
After a while he responds to Xanderghul. "The entryway my spell creates is difficult to spot, but not impossible. It is best that we move further away, to somewhere I can better hide it."
"I will carry you back down with me then once Xanderghul protects you from the gas," she replies to Ary.
"Xander is right, you can rest in the city and come with us. We have been planning a visit to the Demetae due to border issues between us and them. Honestly your presence could be a huge boon in trying to achieve peace. At the very least you know more about their culture and beliefs than any of us." She places a reassuring hand on Unafe's shoulder.
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Unafe hears the strangers' voices and (face still buried in the wet earth) her heaving sobs begin to settle.
Kind. They offer kind words, even if most do so in a foreign tongue. Do I go to their foreign city? Surely, if the Archdruid lives there, it must not be so bad.
...But my duty is to protect my people. If the Demetae yet live, as the Archdruid and the one called Ary claim...
...well then, I've let them down for a hundred years. Surely the Ancestors don't demand that I make this journey alone, through a demon-ravaged land? Unafe shudders. No. I don't think I could manage that.
Is it too much to hope that perhaps the Sacred Ancestors led these strange strange people to rescue me for a reason?
With a long sigh, Unafe lifts her head (mud smearing some of the blue paint on her face) and looks at the strangers who have knelt beside her, have touched her back. And it feels good to have a person's touch. When was the last time one of my people felt brave enough to touch me so? Years, surely.
She finds that her own hand has pulled from her pocket the well-worn woven grass triceratops doll that her brother gave her so many seasons past, and she squeezes it tight.
She looks at the witch. No, he says he's a schoolmaster...and an illusionist? I'm not sure how an illusionist isn't a witch, but I guess at least he's honest about using deceitful magic...and the Archdruid trusts him so I will attempt to do so as well. "Aye, my name is Unafe Dau-Galon. Unafe Two-Hearted, in your tongue. Whatever this 'Wound' is, it surely did not exist when I last laid down to sleep or rose to meet the sun's touch. Old Aye had been preparing me to battle demons; he'd known that Snjóbyl Soulhammer was coming to attack us." She shudders again, spitting into the mud. "Perhaps he saw more as well? Did he know that this was coming? Did the Autumn King?" Perhaps, when I failed at my duty to stop Snjóbyl and his minions, I caused this rift to happen? Unafe's face darkens, and then she shakes her head violently. It seems for a moment that she's about to grow back into her saurian form.
"Mae fel y dywedais, Unafe," Ehren says with a gentle smile. "Nid yw'r cyfan yn cael ei golli."
Unafe's lip begins to tremble again at the Archdruid's words. Reflected in her all-too-grown-up face is a child who wonders if it's truly safe to hope. When Isilme offers comfort as well, the Defender of the Demetae nods.
"There is wisdom in your words, Southerners. Perhaps I see why the Archdruid keeps your company. I will be safer returning to the Taranau valley with people who know the effects of this 'World Wound'--"her tongue seems as though it's still making sense of this horrifying phrase"--and if you aim to travel into the Taranau valley with honorable intent, then I will endeavor to keep you safe there."
At Isilme's request, Xanderghul casts his shadow-air bubble on Ary as well, so that the pair can go desecrate tombs together.
Then, he waits for the pair to go do their business so the group can find a safer place to rest. When the time comes, he provides his services as best as he is able to Ehren, helping the young man find someplace good to stay.
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As the discussion about the tomb gets more and more heated, Hinagiku does her best to help cool it down. Short interjections, here and there, meant to soften the strongest statements of her companions. In the end, it is care for Ehren's defeated attitude which causes Hinagiku to miss the first signs of Unafe's distress. Usually focused on attending the needs who are not the focus of the rest of the group, she is uncommonly slow to respond to the warrior's sobs.
Following Ehren, who's arm she lays a comforting hand on, Hinagiku approaches Unafe. She listens as the womand speaks to her companions, and watches tenderly, a faint smiles on her lips, as the warrior draws a toy. And when Unafe finally lifts her head, she is greeted by the sight of Hinagiku's kind eyes.
"Dyna pam rydyn ni i gyd yn aros yn Unafe Mrs. Er mwyn inni ddod â'r bwystfilod i lawr un diwrnod. Dewch, gallwn ni i gyd drafod ein gobeithion a'n dyheadau wrth iacháu'r tir hwn mewn lle diogel a chynhesach."
Extending an hand, Hinagiku reaches for Unafe's forearm and elbow through the spirits spirits and gently guides her up. They only needed to find a place for Ehren to use his magic.
"We will return momentarily," Isilme informs the others before wrapping an arm around Ary's waist and lifting off into the air with her and disappearing down the cliff only moments later. She guides the two of them down the tunnel to the entrance of the chamber then sets her down and walks over to the sarcophagus holding Delamere. "Let's make short work of this. I believe we should consign her--and her tomb if possible--to the lava once we have retrieved what we can."
Studying the coffin quickly, she tries to determine whether any other spells or enchantments might still be waiting for anyone who might tamper with her resting place. She also looks it over, attempting to find anything that might appear to be a trap.
"Thank you, Unafe," Ehren says with a thankful nod. With only stories to go on, he did not know what to expect to find at Taranau Valley. But with Unafe at their side, perhaps they could find a solution that would not end with more bloodshed. The druid flashes a small smile at Hinagiku before moving back to the horse's side - they still needed a way to get him home safely.
"Is capall an-cróga tú, Paddy," he says to the old steed, resting a hand against his snout, "D’fhreastail tú go maith ar do marcach. Cén fáth nach gceadaíonn tú dúinn d’ualaí a mhaolú agus tú a iompar abhaile, hm?"
With the horse hopefully at ease, Ehren draws on his remaining reserves of mythic power and casts the same spell that Ary had used to bring Külə with them to Heaven. The transmutation immediately takes effect, shrinking Paddy down to a tiny stone figurine.
"I can return him to normal once we get back to Drezen," he says to Aerona reassuringly, as he pockets the figurine. "It will be as though a mere moment has passed for him. He is much safer, this way."
With that matter settled, he scouts out the nearby area for somewhere to cast his spell. There is plenty of stone to work with, but the stone entryway would need to be placed somewhere that a wandering demon would not stumble upon it, however unlikely.
Hinagiku possesses a power gifted by Irori to gain psychic insight on those she can touch with bare skin. They grant her fleeting glimpses into a person's past with the general goal of determining whether Hinagiku will think of that person as good or not, and if they are not good, if they are redeemable.
An example is here, her insight gained for a captured cultist called Dralia. The image reveals her to be a fervent cultist (and mother) in the employ of a demon.
If Unafe allows Hinagiku to touch her, you should let Hinagiku know what she sees of Unafe in a spoiler addressed to her.
The crystal coffin is enchanted with endure elements.
Aerona's eyes widen with surprise and her mouth gapes open when Ehren simply transforms Jesker's horse into a small medallion. "What an amazing spell!" she exclaims and smiles. "Little wonder our ancestors venerated the Green so."
The Weeping Hills are an incredibly dangerous place to linger, due to the seismic activity that accompanies the unnatural geothermal manifestations here. North of the hills, though, is mostly barren and level wasteland. Best bet is to try and obscure the trap door with some ruined vegetation, so that it is more difficult to discern by demons flying above.
With nothing obviously dangerous present on the coffin, Isilme motions to Ary to help with opening it. "Let's open the lid and search it for anything. Once we have her gear we can consign her to the lava along with the coffin." She pauses for a moment before adding, "Unless, of course, you feel there's a pressing need for a crystal coffin back in Drezen."
Once the coffin is open, she proceeds to check the corpse and items for anything that might pose a threat before beginning to remove them for later identification. Once that is done, she gestures for Ary to help her remove the armor from Delamere as well.
The coffin is inert when Isilme and Ary work together to open it. The lid is rather heavy, but both women have magically enhanced strength. The body inside is perfectly preserved, and nothing interesting happens as Isilme props her up to pull her chainmail up and over her head.
Delamere is wearing:
-> A tiara
-> Assorted jewelry (necklace, rings, bracelets)
-> An incredibly light and fine chainmail underneath flowing white robes
-> A longbow
-> Leather sandals
Ehren does not wander far from the others, his search quickly coming to an end when he realizes the dire implications of the lava-filled crevasse's existence. Perhaps it is just the fatigue setting in, but he could swear that the earth was trembling beneath his feet. We should be so lucky.
"Hm. It is not safe here," he reports. Before he can be accused of stating the obvious, he elaborates, "The earth here is far too volatile. We should travel further north, past the hills. That should put us beyond the reach of any quakes that might occur."
"Do you want to see what's magical, Isilme? I... don't feel right stripping her of her clothing if it won't save lives." Ary says as she helps with the armor first and foremost.
"We will need to remove her from the coffin then, it will be difficult to get a good read on the magic of her items if she is still within it."
Once out of the coffin, Isilme uses detect magic on Delamere's belongings to quickly determine what to take. "We should take the jewelry and tiara regardless, and clearly the chain is mithril," she says as she inspects the items.
"I... get the feeling taking the coffin lid would be too much weight?" Ary says as she waits for Isilme to finish her spell. "I mean, under normal circumstances, probably not. But when attempting to fly on a giant bird across the Worldwound so as not to spend days, I don't think we can afford that additional weight."
"I might be able to reduce it to a manageable load, the same way we did with the Bulette meat," she points out.
Isilme can tell that the bow is a longbow of endless ammunition. Having lived in Kyonin, she's probably seen one before.
Isilme can tell that the chainmail radiates faint transmutation magic and her necklace, a talisman in the shape of a pair of antlers flanked by pale amber gems, is also magical, but Isilme cannot discern anything of its nature beyond that. The necklace possesses the strongest aura, blinding in comparison to either of the other two.
Isilme studies the coffin a while longer before concluding she wouldn't be able to reduce it. "In theory we could still carry it out of here if you desire, and Xanderghul could likely carry it back to Drezen on a floating disk"
"As for the other things, we can take the bow, jewelry and tiara. The necklace, and armor are most certainly magic, though I know not what they are enchanted with. The bow is a bow that summons its own arrows, which could be quite handy."
Once the items of value have been secured, Isilme carries Delamere's body over to the edge above the lava. "May this bring some small comfort to the spirits of those you killed, and may you and your teachings never see light of day in this world again."
With that she tosses Delamere's perfectly preserved corpse over the edge into the molten rock below, and waits for it to begin burning before turning back to Ary.
"I am ready to go when you are,"
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Unafe watches with fascination as Xander casts his spell on Ary and Isilme, and then continues watching as they fly off.
As Hinagiku reaches for Unafe’s arm, the buzzing cloud of spirits part like mist rolling away. Unafe looks into the Southern’s eyes and can’t help but to smile as she accepts the offered aid. She looks to be from distant lands, yet she speaks my tongue well...and that look on her face. What in the name of the Green and the Gods gives a grown woman--and a warrior--that look of peace? Could it be genuine? ”Thank you…HINagiku. Am I saying that right?”
She is trying to find a way to put her curiosity about Hinagiku’s tranquility into words when Ehren returns and reports about the terrain. With a nod, Unafe says, ”Sut alla i helpu, Archesgob? Gallaf gario bargen dda, os yw'n ddefnyddiol.”
Ary watches carefully as Isilme picks up each item, particularly the ones she didn't seem to understand, prepared to reach out to her companion should something feel amiss...
She takes her time removing the other belongings of the ancient Kellid, ensuring that she doesn't break anything... and then watches as Isilme hefts the body, carries it to the lava, and gives it a rapid cremation. She nods to her companion, before attempting to heft the coffin lid; given that Rocky was wearing her muleback cords, she casts Ant Haul to make the ordeal a bit easier.
"We should try to take the whole thing. I'm not sure what we would use it for, but I'm certain there is a use if we properly care for it." she says, testing the weight of the rest of the coffin against her incredible strength, and if it isn't too onerous, she places the lid back on... before heading for the entrance - with or without the rest of the coffin.
Ary finds that the coffin weighs less than a horse - so less than what she could bench on an off-day. It is however, very large and very awkward to carry.
"Let us get it to the cliff then, and we can work out how best to get it up at that point," Isilme says, giving her a hand with the awkward burden.
Once at the cliff, Isilme flies up quickly to get aid. "Ehren, can you levitate Ary so we can get her back up the cliff?" she asks.
"Nid oes unrhyw beth i'w wneud nawr ond aros am y lleill a dechrau arni," Ehren replies, shaking his head. He eyes the strange, buzzing cloud around her curiously, as though noticing it for the first time. He suspects that he could discern its true nature by opening his spirit sense, but feels no need to so right away. Instead, he addresses the strength she offered to them. "Ydych chi'n teimlo'n dda? Eich corff, dwi'n golygu. Mae bod wedi goroesi cyhyd mewn rhew fel yna yn anhysbys." With a hint of amusement, he adds, "Ac eto fe ddaethoch i'r amlwg yn barod am ymladd."
When Isilme returns alone, Ehren frowns. "Did you not fly her down yourself? What is the problem now?" he asks evenly, an eyebrow raised slightly.
"If I could hoist her back up, I would, but she is carrying substantially more than I can carry at this point."
Ary ponders the situation while Isilme flies ahead. They could lash ropes to it and have someone between it and the cliff face to keep it from crashing into it, maybe? Ary carrying it would be... unlikely. A slick surface, slick rope, likely only having a single free hand even if the thing could somehow be lashed to her directly she wouldn't feel safe.
So... she shrugs a little and waits to see what Isilme is working on up the cliff.
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Impatient to get on with his life, Xanderghul flies down into the chasm. He casts polymorph on Ary. The spell transforms her into the form of a giant eagle. With her strength still enhanced by her half-elf form's muleback cords, she should be plenty strong enough to lift the coffin directly to the surface.
"There you go, Ary," he adds. "Enjoy the pleasure of flight. You're welcome." Then he flies back to the rest of the group to wait for his tomb-robbing companions to finish with their tomb robbing.
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Ary nods to Xanderghul, accepting his spell without a second thought. She's quite surprised when wings begin to erupt from her back... but then there's a freezing feeling as the mithral full plate that she wears begins to be absorbed entirely into her body. She's immediately confused as her arms begin to shrink, forcing her to place the coffin down quickly before she has the opportunity to shatter it in the act of... transforming?
She tries to say something, but her vocal cords are transforming and all that comes out is a weak gurgling noise.
Her vision begins to ripple before settling on a sightline far more narrow than she would like, though thankfully the colors do not change. But then the scents hit her. The area had smelled sulfurous before, but the sudden impact of smells within the sulfur strike her straight into a wave of nausea. Claws erupt from her feet as flesh merges and becomes something akin to flesh, powerful muscles and tendons replacing the ones only used for precarious balancing in her half-elven form.
Ary begins to panic as the entire world changes, though her view only rises slightly. The last thing to merge with her is Faith, which almost sounds as though it's humming.
The entire transformation only took a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Ary doesn't move, she just breathes, chest rising and falling rapidly, seemingly frozen in place entirely. He didn't know it, but to Ary this felt entirely like a betrayal. Her body was hers - she'd grown accustomed to it, and now it... wasn't. Again. Finally her muscles stop seizing of their own volition and she hunkers down slightly, even as Xanderghul flies back up, leaving Ary in the chasm below. Tension still ripples across every inch of her body as she stops breathing, attempting to force out the too-powerful, too-layered smells. Her thankfully empty stomach lurches as she feels it shift inside of her. She closes her eyes, and waits as the heat radiates directly from the chasm to her completely-uncovered body.
She stays that way for a time, struggling to rein in the sudden panic. She couldn't remember having felt this way before. Her 'rebirth' hadn't been this terrible, had it? No, it couldn't have. It couldn't possibly have felt this wrong. She makes a small attempt at reaching for the coffin, knowing that she had a job to do. If she could just bury herself in that, it wouldn't be so bad. But... reaching only reminds her that she has no arms, her wings jerking oddly, flexing in strange ways and causing another wave of revulsion to ripple through her. She jams her eyes closed again as a low moan escapes - or would, if not for the fact that her form can't make such a noise, instead a long iiiiiii escaping her throat and beak as her throat vibrates of its own accord to the attempt at sound.
She hunkers lower to the ground, drawing her legs up against her body, neck drawing inwards against the wind and rain as she screws her eyes shut and tries to breathe through her mouth.
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"Nid oes unrhyw beth i'w wneud nawr ond aros am y lleill a dechrau arni," Ehren replies, shaking his head. He eyes the strange, buzzing cloud around her curiously, as though noticing it for the first time. He suspects that he could discern its true nature by opening his spirit sense, but feels no need to so right away. Instead, he addresses the strength she offered to them. "Ydych chi'n teimlo'n dda? Eich corff, dwi'n golygu. Mae bod wedi goroesi cyhyd mewn rhew fel yna yn anhysbys." With a hint of amusement, he adds, "Ac eto fe ddaethoch i'r amlwg yn barod am ymladd."
Unafe answers formally, "Mae gen i ddigon o gryfder ar ôl, pe bai ei angen..."
Then, looking down briefly, she adds "... Ond ydw, rwy'n boenus iawn, ac nid wyf yn siŵr fy mod wedi iacháu'n llwyr o'm clwyfau, er bod gweddi Hinagiku wedi fy nghynhyrfu'n fawr."
Suddenly she's distracted by Xander's spell. "What's going on there? What did you do to her?"
Unafe looks confused, and stares between Ary, Ehren, and Xander, trying to make sense of what's going on.
She transforms effortlessly back into a twelve-foot-tall feathered saurian hybrid. For a moment it looks like she's going to launch herself back down there--and then she halts in midstep, turning back to Ehren. "Archdruid, os ydych chi am i'r arch gythraul-addolwr honno gael ei magu yma, gadewch i mi wybod. Rwy'n hyderus y gallwn i wneud mor hawdd, os mai dyna yw eich dymuniad."
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Ehren gives Isilme a skeptical look, the deliberate vagueness of her answer not escaping him. Unless Ary found a boulder to bring home with her, there was only one thing he could think of that would be that heavy. Before he can express his immeasurable disappointment, Xanderghul flies down to solve the problem himself. Though he lets out a huff, Ehren would be content to leave it at that... only Ary does not return right away. It does not take very long for the druid's annoyance to give way to concern.
For the second time that day, Ehren retrieves Terendelev's scale and approaches the chasm, using the artifact's magic to cast the spell Isilme had initially requested of him.
"Peidiwch byth â meddwl am hynny am y tro," he replies to Unafe as he steps past her, shaking his head.
Once again he descends atop a silvery cloud, but when he reaches the bottom he finds not Ary, but a very large bird. For only a moment he eyes Delamere's conspicuously empty coffin, wondering what might have compelled them to take that of all things - but there was a more pressing matter at hand. He watches Ary closely, who despite her avian form is clearly showing signs of discomfort. No, not despite it. Because of it.
"Breathe, Ary," Ehren says gently, kneeling down awkwardly, without stepping off the cloud - he still did not want to burn his feet off, if he could help it. "Magic like that only changes what's on the surface. Your body is a sword, remember?"
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Ary doesn't listen to Ehren as he tells her to better control her breathing at first, still panting carefully, though she does force herself to open her eyes... and even turn her head enough to look to him, eyes still granting her a more narrow line of vision.
She takes several long moments of continuing control of her breathing slowly over time... occasionally the controlled pants becoming a sudden burst of air as her chest muscles tense up once again forcing air suddenly out of her body. What feels like an eternity passes where she only focuses on Ehren, trying to focus on his words. My body is a sword. A sword is merely a tool. becomes a mantra in her head, focusing her away from repeatedly climbing back into the feelings and sensations that are all around her. The tension doesn't fade entirely, and her body still spasms occasionally as her mind jets back from another new sensation appearing in the forefront of her thoughts, unbidden.
Her breathing slows, the jerks become winces, her pupils slowly narrow their focus entirely on Ehren, before they close entirely. Discomfort still radiates across her body, but she's able to just control the feelings of immense panic enough to allow her body to open up slightly, though true movement still feels impossible to her. Without my heart to guide it...
She attempts to swallow, but finds her throat muscles, like her face muscles are not quite the same. Before she can panic, she focuses on Ehren again... how did he do this so frequently? And why had she envied his, Hinagiku's and Isilme's abilities to control their shapes so easily? She couldn't understand, but also didn't truly have the means to focus on the question, instead clinging to the mantra and allowing it to push the question back out of her mind - at least for now.
Her head bobs slowly, carefully to Ehren as she feels like she has some measure of control of the situation, though her eyes snap closed as her feathers shift across her skin in the motion, like a too-tight set of clothing. When they slowly open once more, they're still focused on Ehren.
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Ehren resists the urge to reach out to Ary, aware that an ill-timed touch could cause more stress than comfort, even from a friend. She seemed uncomfortable enough in her own skin already, though it seemed that from her perspective, it was no longer hers at all. Having long grown accustomed to shapeshifting into all manner of creatures, he could not fully grasp the nature of Ary’s plight. Owing to his connection to the Green, even his very first transformation had been accompanied by some instinctual mastery of the shape he took on.
Seeing that Ary has calmed down somewhat, Ehren considers their next course of action. Given her current state of mind, it seemed unlikely that she would adjust to her current form any time soon. The best thing for her now would be to return to normal. Uncertain of the exact transmutation that Xanderghul used on her, he looks up and calls out to the wizard. ”Xanderghul! Dismiss your spell!”
”Unafe! Mae arnom angen eich cryfder wedi'r cyfan,” he adds, remembering the crystal coffin. What was done was done - that it was here at all meant that Isilme already did exactly what she said she would. As unhappy about that as he is, since Ary had gone through the trouble of bringing it this far already, there was little point in leaving it behind. Wait, did they expect me to fly this thing home?
That incredulous thought aside, Ehren looks to Ary and smiles reassuringly. "Let's get you back to normal and get going."