GM Kiora's Wrath of the Righteous

Game Master Kiora Atua

Xanderghul flies out into the dust storm, and finds that he cannot see at all.

What is your plan to navigate back if you cannot see anything?

Bardic Knowledge(Arcana) - Heroism: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 9 + 2 = 24

Isilme paces around for a moment, thinking about the situation. When she stops to look at the barrier, suddenly Ary's question regarding making use of the barrier for travel pops into her mind again. Even if it wasn't able to be used in relation to the menhirs, it might have some application for transportation, but it would take a concerted effort to unravel the rifts secrets to be certain.

"Ary, I think you were right to suggest that this portal might be the key to some kind of transportation magic. Xander, we should make an effort to study this. And perhaps your school could be of use in researching the nature of this rift as well?"

Ehren is an inert, silver statue.

Xander returns to the cave from the ash storm, brushing dust and ash from his robes and coughing. He hears the discussion, and pitches in. "I am not interested in resting here, nor in butchering a dragon. I'm sure we can destroy this dragon's corpse so it can't be raised and used against it in a less bloody, disgusting manner. At the very least, we must return to the Demetae village immediately and confer with our companions."

At the suggestion that they study the rift, Xander hesitantly nods. "Sure. I'm sure that we will be coming back here often, if we can. This being Unafe's ancestral homeland means something, after all."

He gestures. "Come on. Unafe, Ary, lift a statue. Let's start getting everything out into the mouth of the cave."

"The dust storm is still going -- I can enchant someone with ashen path so they can see, and I have a compass to navigate by, but it's going to be tough going."

Ary looks from Xanderghul to the statues and back, lofting a brow. "You... expect me to just leave them?" she asks, her voice terse, the question clearly not actually a question. "I don't have the ability to bring them home on my own, surely someone can do something?"

"Ashen path will be insufficient to get us back. We don't know how long it will take on foot, and we cannot fly in the storm. It would be significantly wiser to wait until the storm passes. Those of us without the spell will be unable to breathe in the ash, and it's unlikely that we could parcel it out and have it last long enough to return to the village.

Let me know how many of you want to leave ASAP (navigating with ashen path + compass?) or how many want to wait. If you are bringing any treasure, you need to specify what you are bringing, and how. If you are going to carry Ehren back manually, then let me know who is carrying him (I think both Unafe and Ary could lift him).

Vote for staying until the storm passes, then using a summoned carriage to move everything out in one go.

Support for Isilme's suggestions.

Xander agrees.

Once the group has agreed to wait out the storm, Unafe walks around the cave, inspecting each inch as best she can.

"Diolch, Old Aye, a ffoi rhag Demetae. Mae'n ymddangos bod eich rhagwelediad i gwympo'r twneli wedi gosod y cythreuliaid ymlaen. Boed iddo ddal nes y gallwn ail-afael yn y tir hwn rhag cythraul."

Hallit: "Thank you, Old Aye, and fleeing Demetae. Your foresight to collapse the tunnels seems to have forestalled the demons. May it hold until we can retake this land from demonkind."

Once she's satisfied that her sacred obligation to protect the mountain's mithral heart doesn't need immediate attention, she turns to the dragon.

I'm not the best of my people at skinning and curing, but I'll do my best with this wyrm, if you'd like. She pulls out a fine knife that's made of dinosaur bone, and begins to look for the right spots to cut.

Survival: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (16) + 12 = 28 Unbeknownst to Unafe, she'll wake up much better at skinning than ever before...

While Hinagiku was not the type to site down and rest while others were working, but she opts out of slicing the woundwyrm into pieces, this seemed to grim for her. Instead, she moves the cave's entrance were she stands guard, wondering silently when the storm will abate.

Survival Aid: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (19) + 13 = 32 Take a +8, for a total of 36!

As the others unceremoniously leave Ary's question hanging in the air, her lips thin and she sighs, slowly shaking her head, before getting to the business that she can take care of; aiding Unafe in finding and carving out the trophies that could - ideally - be used to create magic items that could save lives in the future.

I'm also on board with waiting til the storm settles. What resources are we using first thing?

Isilme notices Ary's frustration that no one had addressed her question directly. Feeling some measure of guilt for the altercation back in the longhouse, and unwilling to let Ary go off again feeling ignored, she speaks up. "I promise we will not leave without them all, Ary. I am certain we can come up with some magical means of carting them all off at once," she says reassuringly. Looking at Xanderghul insistently, and subtly gesturing for him to contribute, she adds "I am sure Xander's vast intellect can come up with some sort of solution."

Xander -- not a personal fan of being covered in acidic blood and gore -- is also going to skip butchering their kill. Instead, he sits upon a rock and thinks about what they might do. "Sure, I'm sure we can do something. I still have shadow conjurations prepared. We can use those to create horses or carts that can help carry all the statues. We can use floating discs for the piles of treasure. We can make multiple trips."

He shrugs. "I'm sure it'll be fine, but I guess we're not going anywhere until this dust storm is over."

The howling winds and blinding ash persist for many hours, at one point giving way to brutal acidic rain. But then, as suddenly as it came, it stops.

It is a little bit after midnight.

If you are leaving now, please let me know what sorts of resources you want to commit to moving the treasure. Otherwise I need you to be specific about how you want to move ~14,000 lb of statues and roughly ~1,500 lb in coins and Demetae relics.

I'll resolve the butchering of the corpse a bit later. With aid another it is a successful roll.

Xanderghul has two shadow conjurations, with which he can create either a herd of horses (via communal mount) or two carriages (via conjure carriage), whichever would be faster. Xander also has a griffon, which can probably lift one statue, and Ary and Unafe can each also lift one statue.

I don't think we necessarily need to take the copper with us, and Xanderghul can use MP to cast floating disc to carry most of the rest of the coins and Demetae relics (1100 pounds of it).

I think we can rely on other people once we've made it back to the village.

To remove the copper you would need to spend time separating it out, and it would take several hours, but that would be fine.

Light horses would likely be the best solution, they can drag about 3,000 lb each.

Does Treasure Disc Exist?: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (3) + 19 = 22

As per Discord, Tony suggests I use treasure disc to aid with the carting of the humongous pile of gold. If Xanderghul knows that it exists, he is willing to spend 3 MP to cast it using Wild Arcana.

Otherwise, he's totally willing to leave behind whatever we can't carry (as long as it's not an entire person).

So just to be clear, treasure disk plus two conjure carriages where we use the overloaded carriages as sleds to safely drag the statues. Two statues in each carriage, plus 3 statues in the disk, and the coins can primarily go in the disk, with any remainder in the carriage. The parts of Scorizcar can likely also fit in the carriages once broken down. The disk is 9k, leaving roughly 3.5k ea. for the carriages, well within the pulling capacity of the two horses each one comes with.

Unafe Survival Rolls to Harvest: 11d20 ⇒ (17, 16, 3, 1, 19, 13, 4, 10, 9, 7, 19) = 118

Ary Aid Rolls: 11d20 ⇒ (19, 15, 20, 15, 9, 2, 7, 8, 5, 17, 12) = 129

Butchering the Woundwyrm takes a long time, but the heroes decide to wait out the storm anyway, so there was plenty of time to kill. Unafe is thankful for the archdruid's magic, as the process causes a large amount of highly corrosive rainbow-hued acid to splash up and around Unafe's arms as she works.

Neither Unafe nor Ary are particularly well-versed in the anatomy of dragons, so they manage to ruin quite a bit of the creature - a ripped up organ here, or a shattered bone there - but they manage to rip out some rather key looking parts regardless.

They manage to harvest:

-> Dragonhide

Bardic Knowledge(Arcana) - Guidance: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 9 + 1 = 27
Bardic Knowledge(Arcana) - Guidance: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 9 + 1 = 30
Bardic Knowledge(Arcana) - Guidance: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 9 + 1 = 30
Bardic Knowledge(Arcana) - Guidance: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 9 + 1 = 23
Bardic Knowledge(Arcana) - Guidance: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 9 + 1 = 27

Once the various parts are out of the dragon, Isilme recalls several conversations she'd had with Ai'sintar about what could be harvested from dragons. They had been in his study in the tower in Drezen several months after they had taken the city.

What had begun as a question about the components they had salvaged from Soltengrobbe quickly diverged into a lesson on dragons and their uses in alchemy and the crafting of magical weapons. It ended up being one of the first nights Isilme was able to spend time alone with him, and they had shared a bottle of wine as they pored over the various texts he had on the subject late into the evening.

Though it had been an interesting lesson, she'd doubted it would come in useful anytime soon, as dragons were not exactly commonplace in the worldwound. Nevertheless, here she was staring at various components and recalling what he'd taught her.

"The dragonshide we can put to use for armor and won't require much from us until we hand it off for the crafting. This first organ is the fundamentum, the source of the dragon's breath, and is exceedingly valuable. It will need to be preserved immediately tomorrow morning to ensure it stays fresh for use," she says, standing over the various components arrayed on the floor.

"The stomach," she continues, gesturing towards it, "Is highly acidic, and quite dangerous. It can be used to devastating effect as one would use an acid flask. We should be extra careful with it lest it rupture. It will also need to be preserved. The Liver I don't remember much about at the moment, but I imagine we should preserve it as well. And finally, the horns can be used to craft weapons with an innate acidic bite, and an affinity for acid enchantments."

Aid v. Liver Arcana: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19 Flavored as Heal

"The liver normally creates bile and filters the blood. If I had to guess, it'd help with restorative magic or breaking things down." Ary offers, "Though, with it being what it is, I'd just assume breaking things down. Shame it isn't the gallbladder, it could have lived without that." Ary says, deadpan.

"Would you be able to shrink its skull so we can take it back as proof to the Demetae, in case words and random organs aren't enough?" Ary asks, looking over to Isilme as she twists the ring on her hand and intones, "I will shine in her legion." which immediately causes the grime and goo to slough off of her, her armor returning to a polished sheen.

"If so... I'm sure we could repair it and possibly give it to someone for study, or use it for... something." she suggests.

"While we're waiting for the storm, we can probably go ahead and move most of the things into piles that we can take easily and things we can't take easily. The larger things we can move into the other room... How long will the discs last?"

By the time Ary and Unafe are done, Hinagiku has had the time to move the coins from the hoard into the part of the cave still unaffected by Scorizcar's chaos where she is currently focused on separating the gold coins from the other coins. Unfortunately, with her ability to stay aware of her surrounding despite her focus, she catches Ary's tentative joke. Feigning not having heard, she continues sorting the coins, putting the gold ones in her bag, until Ary mentions sorting things.

"Ary, would you like me to pray to the Master of masters to give your or Mrs. Unafe the strength to carry Ehren-kun and the crusaders into the safer part of the cave?" she says, aware that the remainder of the items were most likely Demetae and under the purvue of Unafe.

As mentioned earlier, after she is done with that workd, Hinagiku spent her time by the mouth of the cave. Officially taking the belt since no one mentioned whether it was Demetae.

"Either of us will do. I think the spell would enable Unafe more than me while she's so big?" she suggests tentatively. "But I don't think I can carry the statues without it. Maybe drag them?" she says as she moves over to test how heavy they are.

Hinagiku, you're welcome to the belt. Are you taking it for yourself, or for Ehren?

-----

After she finishes with the butchering, Unafe brushes the ichor off of her as best she can, and then tests a statue. "I can already carry one.

"Hinagiku, If it's the spell that Old Aye sometimes cast on me, I'd guess that with it I could carry three. Maybe one under each arm, and one lashed to my back? It'll slow me a touch, but I suspect I'll still be as fast as those horses Xander was talking about summoning."

"By the way, while I have no skill in enchanting things, I have studied the craft of making arms and armor out of both mithral and stegasaurus hide. I suspect I could work dragonhide as well, with a bit of practice."

Finally, Unafe takes some time to examine each of the small Demetae artworks, before packing them into her Haversack. One--a mithral pin of a stylized triceratops head, with small amber eyes--she pins to the strap of Sicrwydd's satchel. "Beth yw eich barn chi, Sicrwydd? Mae cymaint wedi'i ddinistrio, ein cartref ac o Gwm Taranau ei hun ... ond o leiaf mae rhywfaint o dreftadaeth ein pobl yn parhau, iawn? Ai dyma ydyw? Ai dyma ni i gyd nawr?"

Hallit: "What do you think, Sicrwydd? So much has been destroyed, both of our home and of the Taranau Valley itself...but at least some of our peoples' heritage remains, right? Is this enough though? Is this all we are now?"

To her shock, Sicrwydd replies to her (albeit in a voice most wouldn’t understand). "Unafe Dau-Galon, meddyliwch am yr arteffactau hyn fel hadau. Gallwch eu defnyddio i ddysgu am ffyrdd y Demetae, ac i wobrwyo'r rhai sy'n gwrando ar yr hynafiaid ac sy'n ffyddlon i'r ffyrdd hynny."

Hallit: "Unafe Two-Hearted, think of these relics as seeds. Use them to teach about the ways of the Demetae, and to reward those who are faithful to those ways. In those ways, these seeds may blossom into a great tree."

Unafe nods vigorously and then squeezes the little gen cain in delight. ”Ie! Gallant fod yn hadau! Diolch Sicrwydd! Dim ond ... rydych chi wedi bod yn gydymaith ffyddlon imi ers sawl blwyddyn - ac rydw i bob amser wedi eich deall chi, yn fy ffordd fy hun - ond sut ydych chi'n gallu siarad â mi felly? A yw canllaw ysbryd shaman yn unig yn siarad hynny?”

Hallit: "Yes! They can be seeds! Thank you Sicrwydd! Only...you have been my faithful companion for several years--and I’ve always understood you, in my own way--but how is it you can speak to me so? Does not only a shaman’s spirit guide speak so?"

Sicrwydd smiles, showing a mouth full of tiny, needle-like teeth. ”Oni wnaethoch chi ateb eich cwestiwn eich hun? Fe wnaethoch geisio dod o hyd i'r siaman Demetae pan ddychweloch, ond ni wnaethoch hynny. Mae angen i'r Demetae fod yn gelwydd clan ac yn siaman. O leiaf am y tro. Breuddwydiwch arno heno, Unafe Two-Hearted. Yn y bore, byddwch chi'n deall yn well.”

Hallit: "Did you not answer your own question? You sought to find the Demetae shaman when you returned, but you did not. Old Aye is gone, and none are fit to replace him. The Demetae need you to be both clan liege and shaman. At least for now. Dream with me tonight, Unafe Two-Hearted. In the morning, you will better understand."

Dazed, heart beating fast, Unafe can only nod in agreement.

I have added the cash on the spreadsheet, split between Hinagiku and Xanderghul. I see that Hinagiku has picked up the belt of spirit vines and the gems, and Xanderghul has picked up the haversack. So if someone wants to claim the mithral plate mail (its not mithral scale that was an error), or the mithral bars, you will need to say so and/or add them to the loot document or they will just get forgotten by everyone.

I added the Woundwyrm's remains to Unafe.

The heroes load up the treasure onto two disassembled shadow-carriages, as well as one floating treasure disc, and are on their way through the night. It takes about three hours for them to find their way back to the Demetae encampment, and they are greeted by the night-watch outside of the longhouses.

"Clan-Liege Anniogel! Rydych chi wedi dychwelyd!" exclaims a young Wintersun man named Edryd. His companion, a woman named Alwyn, is eyeing the enormous pile of treasure floating on Xanderghul's disc with wide eyes.

At this time, so late at night, only a few watchmen are awake and keeping an eye on the surrounds. The rest of the Demetae are asleep in the longhouse.

Sweaty, sore, tired, and still covered in the Woundwyrm's stink, Unafe smiles to be back home.

Setting down the statue she's been carrying, she replies. "Yn wir! Rydyn ni wedi lladd y Wyrm ac wedi adennill ei horde, er mwyn iddo gael ei wella - i'r Demetae, ac am y frwydr fwy yn erbyn y cythreuliaid sy'n llygru ein tir. Edryd ac Alwyn, diolch i'r ddau ohonoch am gadw llygad. Unrhyw beth o bwys y dylwn fod yn ymwybodol ohono, tra roeddem i ffwrdd?"

Hallit: "Indeed! We've slain the Wyrm and reclaimed its horde, that it may be put to good--for the Demetae, and for the larger battle against the demons that corrupt our land. Now I should be able to lead you to Drezen, safe from its evil hunger.

"Edryd and Alwyn, thank you both for keeping guard. Anything of note that I should be aware of, while we were away? How is Marhevok recovering?"

If there is no news to speak of, Unafe will gratefully lie down to sleep, as soon as the loot has been safely taken care of.

"Mae Marhevok yn effro nawr. Roedd yn gandryll fel arth gynddeiriog pan ddeffrodd, ond llwyddodd Caitlyn i'w dawelu digon," replies Alwyn, grimacing somewhat. After a moment, she nods. "Os ydych chi am orffwys, rydyn ni wedi paratoi hen siambrau Marhevok ar gyfer eich dychweliad, Clan-Liege."

"You should present the skull to Marhevok, Unafe," Isilme says, pointing back to the dragon's head hanging from the back of one of the dismantled carriages, "That should end any remaining rebelliousness."

"We should turn in and prepare for the morning, we'll have a long trip back ahead of us, and we still need to come up with a better solution for moving the statues and treasure back to Drezen."

Along with the skull, Isilme snagged both of the wyrm's front claws, intending to use the fingerbones from each to craft some flutes as gifts for visiting musicians.

Xander accompanies the others on the back of his griffon, with the hovering treasure disc following behind on the ground. He breathes a partial sigh of relief when they return to the Demetae villae -- they are not yet safe, but they are certainly no longer in the jaws of the beast.

When they arrive back to town, Xander would advocate they move their new massive pile of treasure into Ary's sacks of group-treasure.

He would stay up late, on watch. Not all of his compatriots had to sleep, but some of them still did. Xander would take his rest whenever two hours before Valais' habitual time to wake was. When she awoke, he would recount the details of their encounter with the Woundwyrm to her, for her notes, before beginning his time of meditation and preparation.

Mithral plate is worth carrying, and only 25lbs. If it fits in either haversack, Xander would take it.

If Isilme tells Xander about the scrolls, I would like to scribe greater dispel and spell resistance into my spellbook.

Despite strange sounds and sights coming from the deep and now dark entrail-like forest, Hinagiku's attention is drawn every so often to Ehren's shape, her slight concern betrayed by the few glances she casts at him. If her general detached attitude revealed little in everyday life about the strenght of her relationship with Ehren, this slight disquiet speaks tons to those who know her.

True to her thoughts, Hinagiku approaches Ary when they arrive at the hall.
"Ary, I might be better if Mrs. Unafe does not carry the statues inside in front of her people, maybe you would help me with them? I can ask the Master of masters to help you... and I guard them through the night. I know they healy and won't disappear, but someone might think that scrapping some of the silver off would be a good idea..." Since Unafe was there earlier, I assume Hinagiku as not cast ant haul yet. "Actually, Mr. Xanderghul and I can keep an eye on them. He has been becoming really good at controlling is ki and limiting the needs of his body."

As the start to work on getting the statues down from the waggons, Hinagiku hears Isilme's suggestion for sleep.
"The Demetae have quite a few waggons, they would probably no mind putting the statues on them, even more so with the relics that Mrs. Unafe is bringing with her."

Sleep time

Ary will move 1216 pounds of coins and relics into her two bags of holding. That leaves the gemstones and ~300 pounds of coins and other 'relics', which I believe we can easily split between the party, including Unafe. She will move what was in the bag of holding out and then place it on top, as they're squishable/breakable. We can ideally move those objects into one of the handy haversacks and just make it a round 1250 with 250 remaining if someone is willing to take a bunch of food off of her hands (or we can assume the Demetae pillaged it since she left the food out for folks). Don't forget your dinosaur eggs on the loot list, Unafe! I don't know where you want them!

Ary lofts a brow as Unafe begins to talk to Sicrwydd as if having a full conversation with the creature. It didn't help that the half of the conversation she could hear didn't make sense without the other half. She simply shakes her head and begins to work on aiding the others in maneuvering the things out of the room that they could carry.

Ary helps to maneuver the statues into the makeshift sleds and otherwise works with Xanderghul and Unafe to blaze a trail back to the Demetae city. Not having a heron taxi was made clearly evident in their attempt to clamber through the forest taking significantly longer than the flight had. The trip back was going to be slow and arduous. It was a shame that they didn't have time to realistically figure out how to use the portal, but it was unrealistic to expect Xanderghul - who had some difficulty with conjuration magic to begin with - to have a perfect knowledge of this sort of thing tucked away somewhere. The trip home could have been significantly faster - and uneventful - if they'd taken that opportunity.

Regardless, there was still much to do. Ary would occasionally notice Hinagiku stealing glances at Ehren by virtue of having been glancing towards him as well. She tries to offer a comforting smile to the priestess whenever she notices her doing so - which might have been inherently disconcerting as the kitsune often wasn't used to her emotions showing so openly. Ary couldn't help but think of the last conversation she'd really had with the archdruid resulting in a particularly abrupt end. There were many conversations she had intended to have with him that would now have to wait for the better part of a month.

She doesn't react to the guards and instead allows Unafe to take the initiative when they begin to speak.

She nods to Hinagiku's request in agreement. "I had considered the same. I don't believe that they would mean any harm, but even a child could scrape away silver from a statue and cause some of an irreparable sort. Perhaps in the morning we will be able to begin shrinking the statues down for easier travel?" she says, looking between Xanderghul and Isilme as a sort of suggestion, leaving the question in the air as she accepts Hinagiku's spell and begins to help with maneuvering the statues, remaining as avoidant of the Demetae tribe as she had in the aftermath of the combat.

After the work was done, Ary would prepare to get a bit of sleep, trusting the others who needed less to stand guard in shifts.

Xander nods, with a slight frown and some shoulder movement to indicate a "sort of" kind of approval. "I know of some spells that we could use to shrink all of the treasure, or just Ehren, down. It'll just take a day or two to scribe the spell into my book and then cast it on the statues."

He hums, thinking for a moment. "In fact... I've been thinking about my weaknesses recently. I may be able to teleport us, given enough of my innate power. We could only teleport what we could carry, though."

Xander wants to scribe shrink item into his book using Wild Arcana (spending 2 of 5 remaining MP tomorrow). Then it will take him until the morning of the third day to shrink all of the statues. During that time, we should be traveling with the Demetae. Then we can pocket the statues, and Xander can use Wild Arcana to cast teleport and teleport up to 4 people 1100 miles closer to our destination. That should leave me with 3 MP afterwards, with Ehren getting the opportunity to come back a mere 4 or so days after his silvering.

To clarify (although commanding this in-character is definitely Unafe and Ary's domain and not mine) I think we should leave immediately by foot in the morning.

For the next day, the 18th of Gozran, the heroes are completely unable to embark. Instead they are forced to retreat back to the Sacred Mountain, the only place sturdy enough to weather another round of horrific Abyssal thunderstorms, this time which rain acid that drips holes through the Demetae shelter's roofs, and then give way to tornados. While they shelter, Unafe helps calm the terrified children among them by telling stories of her youth, many of which they had never heard before until now. As the unnatural weather crashes around them, the Demetae grow closer to their new clan-liege, whom they come to recognize as the only one they really trust to deliver them to someplace safe. They were generally less friendly towards the rest of the heroes, whom they still regarded with some uncertainty, particularly after they had learned what had happened to the Archdruid.

They embark on the 19th instead, struggling against powerful windstorms as they moved through the Taranau Jungle to the south with the Demetae slowly trudging behind them. They stumble upon an open Abyssal Rift in the middle of the jungle, from which a mega-clot of omox demons were spewing forth - a vile sort of demon that takes the form of sentient slime. Xanderghul was familiar with the sight - realizing immediately that the Rift must lead directly into the Undersump - and the heroes are forced to fight off waves the vile creatures while Lann, Variska, and Valais help lead the Demetae around and past the rift.

On the 20th, the temperatures abruptly drop to below freezing, but the weather otherwise stabilizes as they finally escape the jungles out into the barren tundra that surrounds the Lake Lost to the Sun. That morning, Xanderghul is ready teleport the statues he had spent the previous two days shrinking down to the size of toys to Nerosyan.

Isilme, Ary, Hinagiku - are you going with Xanderghul to Nerosyan on the third day?

The day of the 18th, Isilme wakes up and immediately sets about using her magic to solve the most pressing problem the group had, apart from Ehren's condition of course. She calls upon her magic to produce a sending, delivering a poem she had composed to the Lady in Green, Jeribeth.

She then gets ready for the journey, using her magic to preserve the portions of Scorizcar that were perishable. Unfortunately, they quickly find their departure thwarted by Abyssal weather the likes of which they hadn't seen since their first night at Drezen prior to the assault.

Isilme is relieved when they finally return to travelling, and their arrival at the border of the Worldwound finally signals the end of the most harrowing portion of their trip. While the spells weren't terribly effective while in the worldwound, once out, Isilme makes an effort to use all the slots she can manage to summon food for the tribe. It wasn't as fantastic as Ary's daily banquet, but she hoped the extra food would be appreciated.

When Xanderghul gets ready to set off for Drezen with the statues, Isilme decides to stay behind, thinking it best to avoid the impression that they were abandoning the tribe, especially given the Sarkorians' distrust of arcane magic.

On the 19th of Gozran, Xander prepares sending as well, utilizing his magic to deliver messages to Chevaliers Kiarah and Irabeth. Their condition is worth reporting to multiple parties. At the very least, they would need to inform the party responsible for restoring Ehren ahead of time if she was to be ready to help them.

On the 20th, Xander has a haversack pocket full of half-pound silver statues. For a few moments, Xander amuses himself imagining the statues as ornate figurines, perhaps for some sort of game. Then he stands, pushes the last one (just shrunken) into the pocket of the haversack with the others. As soon as it is indicated who is coming with and who is staying, he will use his newfound skills to transport himself to Nerosyan.

On the 20th, post-teleport, Xander will have 3 MP remaining, so that's what I will set my header to.

17 Gozran

Unafe nods. "Diolch Alwyn, Edryd. Bydded i'r hynafiaid cysegredig sefyll wrth eich ochr wrth i chi gadw llygad."

Hallit: "Thank you Alwyn, Edryd. May the sacred ancestors stand beside you as you keep watch."

Unafe invites any of her companions who choose to join her in her (formerly Marhevok’s) chamber. She falls asleep quickly, exhausted by the day. As she sleeps, she finds herself in a strangely real dream: She’s in Old Aye’s hut (which, in reality, must've been destroyed years ago) sitting in the woven bark chair that was always reserved for him alone. On her lap is Sicrwydd, who looks up at her and speaks.

Unafe Two-Hearted, the Demetae need you to be not just clan liege but shaman. They have no other.

Unafe starts to protest but Sicrwydd interrupts.

You and I share a Dreamspace now, and I will guide you as I am able...though much you can only discover on your own.

Unafe nods uncertainly...and then lights up with inspiration. Hey! You’re my dream guide. Can you tell me what became of Dolok Darkscale? And Goryon the Wise? And my missing Ancestor Heart??

Sicrwydd’s dream face looks wistful. The dream-hut’s thatching suddenly is full of holes, and the dream-sky fills with clouds. I know not, Unafe. There is much that is obscured.

Unafe frowns, and notices that the mithral she rescued is beside her, along with her tool bag. Curiously, she picks up a small broken brooch, and gently attempts to repair it. As she works, she loses herself in the project until--hours later--she wakes and finds that the work she’d done in her dreams had followed her into the waking world. Her repair isn't pretty but it's a beginning, but she determines to practice more at it.

I can take what is broken and make it right.

Metalworking: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12 Just repairing a damaged trinket, for fun.

18 Gozran

When Unafe emerges from her chamber in the morning, she goes looking for Marhevok. When she finds him, she asks, ”Helo, ffrind llwyth. Pa mor deg ydych chi?”

Hallit: "Hello, tribe-mate. How fair you?"

19 Gozran

When they finally embark, Unafe transforms into her saurian form for the journey through the jungle, and is surprised to find that now she stands more than twenty feet tall.

She looks at her dream guide and--laughing--asks, ”Sicrwydd, a oeddech chi'n gwybod am hyn?” In reply, the gen gain just smiles its toothy smile.

Hallit: "Sicrwydd, did you know about this?"

18th of Gozran
After a night of meditation, Hinagiku is mostly back to her usual self, which would seem almost heartless considering Ehren’s current state if she had not softly greeted his petrified form upon waking up.

When the storm strikes, Hinagiku focuses on helping get the Demetae to safety, especially the sick and young, going as far as providing cover with her own body against the acidic rain. She spends the remainder of the day helping out when and wherever she can.

On that night, Hinagiku asks a favor of Xanderghul: to guard the silverified crusaders and Ehren for her. Once he agrees, she simply stands up, closes her eyes, and begins to slowly move in unison with the world’s flow. To the wizard, the series of motions is uncannily similar to Hinagiku’s usual meditation: a series of slowly evolving combat stances. But, it drags on and on, and for eight hours the monk meditates non-stop unmoved by the events around her Hinagiku uses ki metabolism to enter a stasis, here refluffed as a meditative stance from which she cannot be brought out until eight hours have passed.

19th of Gozran
Helping the sick, keeping an eye on the young, Hinagiku spends another day dedicated to the defence of the Demetae people. Except for a single moment after the battle against the omox demons. Once their diversion is over, Hinagiku takes a short leave from the group and, finding a relatively safe spot where she meditates for a minute or two, trying to connect and feel the world beyond the rift, trying to hear to voice of what might be called her aunt. She knows that if the exercise succeeds, it will be a trying one, but it does not matter. She needs to know. She needs to learn how the worlds are connected.

20th of Gozran
When Xanderghul advertises, likely loudly and boastfully, his departure, Hinagiku gathers to his side. She declines any invitation to accompany him: ”I would like to be there, and I am sure he feels the same, but the people here need me more. And, with these increasing powers of yours, you do not need any escort Mr. Xanderghul. Please do give him this when he awakens.” Hinagiku hands to Xandeghul the puppet she received in heaven. ”Safe trip.”

Caster Level for Fuud Conjuring: 3d20 ⇒ (1, 5, 10) = 16 Day 1: 11, Day 2: 15, Day 3: 20

When Ary awakens early in the morning, she moves out to where she had buried the crusaders before moving directly into meditation, despite the approaching storms. As always, she places her shield before her sword as she kneels for the better part of an hour, lost in contemplation.

* * *

The half-elf knew - or at least had theorized within her makeshift journal - exactly what the power of the ley was. Having watched her companions grow, she had become almost certain that she understood. Their power was fuzzy and mutable. It was like the potential of every human life, but empowered to press still further... allowing them to achieve a lifetime of growth and advancement in only a few short years.

For Hinagiku it had made the woman preternaturally fast and given her a link to the world itself. For Isilme it had caused constant shifting change that had ultimately begun to burn out the form that could hold neither the Azata nor its capriciousness - though Ary likely knew less of the latter and more of her fading spark. For Xanderghul it had enabled his pride to an extreme, granting him incredible control, power… and ultimately a greater source of pride, still. Elevating him to demigodhood. For Markus, it had elevated his dominion over life and death - so much so, that the crusader had ultimately chosen life over death.

As for her other companions, Ehren - as Hinagiku - had been tied to the land directly, though his mastery of the ley had grown more obviously, to directly control rather than use as an extension of himself. Valaria had gained the most straight-forward power at first - the ability to protect what she cared about, violently… though later her spark, too, had begun to change to something more akin to who she was when they had met. Ary hoped it was a result of the trauma of Li’an’s death finally beginning to leave her heart in the wake of new attachments. And of herself? Her ability to aid others had grown exponentially. Indeed… her power seemed almost entirely selfless, much of the time, the very second transformation having been to bind her power to Anevia and bring her back - or so she believed. And, if that were true, it was certainly also true that despite the power having come from Ary, Anevia had been able to mold it into her own even further.

As a result, she also believed that the fight with the woundwyrm might serve as a catalyst for the group; it was an incredibly deadly fight, and certainly one that stories would echo about (whether Isilme ensured it or not), which certainly seemed to qualify for advancing legends themselves… and providing the group with more potential for growth, still. All of this was purely anecdotal... but Ary had a tendency to notice such things over time. She couldn't read people in the moment, but given time, she had the ability to read a few pages.

Ultimately, she had been right in many regards - the ley that coursed through them understood their desires and thus could be shaped, though perhaps wrong in the reasoning. Ary hadn’t been certain that one could consciously do so… the effects that she had seen had been more akin to a petitioner becoming an outsider in her mind… but she hoped so, earnestly.

Her journal, the bookbound equivalent of an evidence board, had become a repository for those things she desired to change… and those things that she wished to hold dear. At many points, there were single lines that adjusted one of the lines of Iomedae’s Paladin code to better fit Ary’s perspective. It wasn’t that the Inheritor was wrong… but that there was more than one way to be right. On still others, it was simply stating a goal that would end a particular worry... such as gaining control of her form.

As she contemplated the writings within her little journal from all those years ago, she pulls forth those things that she most desires for herself and her allies. And by the time she rose, Faith was humming gently. As she opened her eyes, a strand of gold fell across her face… causing her to wince for a moment and jerk her head in that direction, causing still more to fall forward. She blinks for a moment, before smiling despite the situation. She reaches up to find that her blonde hair had returned… and indeed a great many other things had as well. What she did not see were the golden motes that fluttered slowly upwards from her shoulder blades, beginning as a trickle.

There was still more, however… if Isilme, Xanderghul, and Ehren were able to guide reality towards their whims and Xanderghul was even able to manage some small miracles - by praying to himself, no less - then perhaps she could as well. But what would be a fitting miracle? If she could do anything she wanted, just now… she would return Ehren from his prison. Barring that, however… she did have still another thing that pressed upon her mind.

There were hungry children in her midst, and she remembered what that was like. She closed her eyes once more and focused her will, breathing slowly in and out. The only answer to her thoughts and prayers was the wind itself picking up around her. She had no idea how long she had stood silently in that place, hair being whipped to and fro by a wind that only seemed to affect her… until finally, she opened her eyes.

There, before her, stood a long table with place settings and nearly a dozen chairs. The table was covered in breads and rice and potatoes and simply cooked meats and stews, even eggs, mushrooms and some pureed fruit. But as she watched, the bread split open, and thousands of small bread-shaped slugs with teeth oozed out, the rice writhed and wriggled, while the potatoes seemed to have living worms growing out as if roots. She didn’t bother to look at the rest, the sounds coming from the eggs was enough to make her well aware that those, too, had been corrupted by the Worldwound.

She turns her attention to the side of the table, and chews on her lip for a moment. The Worldwound’s propensity for ruining everything aside… another smile crosses her face… the power the ley had bestowed upon them was ultimately theirs to do with as they deemed fit. And, indeed… perhaps a bit of the ley’s power had been inside of them all along, waiting to be united with the river of power.

She turns away from the table as something wet sounding sloughs its way onto the ground with a squelch… and heads back towards the center of the village, unaware that as the wind had whipped up around her… the reason had been a pair of golden, ethereal wings that flowed upwards like wind, leaving behind tiny motes that all but winked out as she went.

* * *

The woman who returned to the city was not the one that had left, though for all intents and purposes, her belongings had changed little - her armor having widened slightly to accommodate a larger form than her half-elven body had portrayed. Blonde, wavy hair cascaded down to her shoulders with slightly tanned skin and human-pink lips…

She attempts to summon more food while within the city as the storms blow in, but ultimately finds that perhaps Iomedae or the ley were only willing to grant her the one miracle that day, helping the others to urgently draw the Demetae to the mines as they begin to grow too powerful to safely weather in the ruins.

* * *

The following morning, as the storm lets up, she tries to conjure food once more, and then again while on the road the following day… each time the spread is of simple foods with a sweet drink, always with a crimson and white tablecloth with place settings for ten. Ary never tries to eat when the food appears, instead trying to usher the youngest and oldest to get to eat first - and then the infirm. Those hazards that they run into, she does her best to continue enabling her friends... while constantly remaining vigilant for locations that might provide shelter during an impending storm or raid by the demonic host.

When Xanderghul offers to take the group to Nerosyan with Ehren... she is at first hesitant, looking to the people that they had gathered. "As long as half of us remain, it should be safe until we return. We just need to stay hunkered down until Ehren is back with us, then we can travel onwards. I'll go, yeah. They're... probably going to be a bit skeptical, though."

As they travel, Unafe finds her eyes turning toward Hinagiku.

The Archdruid is her lover, and he's been turned to silver. Even so she seems so...peaceful. And I really think it's genuine!

When Unafe stumbles on her meditating, she watches for a long time...so long that she's there staring when the monk opens her eyes.

"I...hope I'm not intruding. I just...it's just that...your lover is petrified and even so you seem so genuinely peaceful! Is it really so? How?? What's your secret?"

It doesn't take a great gift to see on Unafe's face how much she longs for peace like that.

Sense Motive (is Hinagiku faking that whole peace thing??): 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (4) + 16 = 20 Seems like not. ;0)

* * *

Waking from a busy dream of repairing Demetae jewelry--or trying to--Unafe inspects her handiwork and then goes for a walk to talk to her people. She inquires as to who is sick, or injured, looking for those most in need of food or succor.

"Cael nerth, fy mhobl. Gyda phob diwrnod yn mynd heibio, rydyn ni'n agos at Mama Calongoed. Cyn bo hir, gyda bendithion y Grîn, byddwn yn gallu chwilota am fwyd diogel eto ... ac ymhen ychydig ar ôl hynny, fe ddown o hyd i le diogel i'r Demetae wella, tan y diwrnod y byddwn yn dychwelyd i wella'r Cwm Taranau."

Hallit: "Have strength, my people. With each passing day, we near Mama Calongoed. Soon, with the blessings of the Green, we'll be able to scavenge for safe food again...and not long after that, we'll find a safe place for the Demetae to recover, until the day we return to heal the Taranau Valley."

Craft (Metalwork) (again, really just for flavor): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29

* * *

While chatting with Caerau one morning, Unafe looks up--startled--and notices that the Crusader looks different than before.

Golden wings! And that's not all. I'd swear, she looks almost...divine.

Unafe bites her lip for a moment, and then follows after Ary. "Ary! Excuse me, you look like you're in the middle of something but...Wow!!

"I've never seen your wings before. You look like, well, like I'd think an angel would look. What god grants you this? I did not realize you were a servant of the divine, as Isilme is, though your devotion to your crusaders is clear."

Ary opens her eyes once Unafe moves nearer, and looks to where she'd been attempting to will a table into existence - ultimately a failure - and tilts her head as she looks to Unafe, motioning to the symbols on her tabard and shield. "I've always been a devoted servant." she says with a small smirk. "Just... not in the way Daisy or Isilme were, you're right. I still owe much to Iomedae, even if I wasn't chosen as a paladin or a cleric. I still like to think of myself as a holy warrior despite that. Most of the Crusades are in a similar situation... there are clerics and paladins among us, but there are many who serve without the promise of any sort of reward - or of divine intercession."

She furrows her brow for a moment, and brushes her hair out of her face to look over her shoulder. She tilts her head, eyes widening slightly, voice tipped with awe. "Oh. I... did not know that I had wings. I saw the motes on my way back, but I honestly hadn't noticed..." She pauses for a moment, looking back to them, her arms, shoulders and back moving awkwardly. She then reaches up and through them, causing them to flow like a stream over rocks through her fingertips.

She looks back to Unafe, and smiles, "I have no idea how to work them or even if I can." she pauses. "But... yeah. I suppose most of the change was intended. At first I was worried that using magic to pretend to be the old me - the me before I died - would be dishonest. That... I needed to wear my failure like a badge, to show others that people fail and that it's okay to get back up. You know... not be so worried about how I look." She slows for a moment, turning to lean against a nearby wall. The wings continue to ripple and flow like a banner in the wind despite that. "It... was the Archdruid that convinced me that that was wrong. My faith teaches to never leave a tool buried, something that I strongly agree with. So... it didn't sit right that I was leaving the me I wanted to be buried out of some missplaced sense of pride in failure of all things."

She pauses, rolling her shoulder a bit uncomfortably. "So, I decided to at least try to reclaim my weapon... and as expected, the Woundwyrm was sufficient to nudge us further along the path." She stops once more for a moment, "Sorry, I've... been internalizing a lot for a while, trying to keep myself centered on... well... this." she says but then motions to Unafe, "What about you? Do you feel any different after the wyrm and its rift? Or... is it still something with the ley that doesn't really stretch beyond the five of us?"

Xander spends most of the time on the trip back from the Woundwyrm lair by himself, even eschewing the company of Valais. He sleeps in the early morning, spending nights practicing combat exercises with his new blade. He would set up a sack-cloth in the rough shape of a human torso, attached to a stick, and practice different attacks on it. His experience with the Woundwyrm was just one more piece of evidence certifying that the power of his magic was limited, that there would be situations in which he couldn't rely on it.

There were, of course, limitations to a sword as well. There were really only a couple of things you could do with one, besides the obvious 'slashing'. As it turned out, this group of people ended up in a lot of situations where slashing was a viable and consistent solution. They ended up in those situations often enough that Xander frequently exhausted his magic getting through the day. So some time ago, he had decided that he would, as Ary might put it, learn the weight of his sword.

When they had felled the Woundwyrm, Xander had not failed to notice that several of his compatriots had changed, as had happened when they had finished off Eustoryiax. With some unexplained metaphysical laws driving his companions' strength ever upward, he definitely needed to focus more on his own strength -- his breadth of experience -- in order to keep up.

During the trip, Xander also takes the time to design himself a new appearance, using his hat of disguise. This time, he adopts an appearance that's a bit more... grizzled. Perhaps one that looks somewhat grumpy. Deep but apparently premature wrinkles mar his new face. He has hair this time, but bristly and tousled, messy blonde hair. Xander's eyeglasses shift to deep black sunglasses. His nose is enlarged in this form. His clothes remain similar, those that a sneak-thief might wear, but their color scheme shifts to grey, dark blue, and tan.

On the 20th, the temperatures abruptly drop to below freezing, but the weather otherwise stabilizes as they finally escape the jungles. That morning, Xanderghul teleports the statues he had spent the previous two days shrinking down to the size of toys, and heads to the Starrise Spire with purpose and a report. He is quickly granted an audience with the Crusader-Queen herself, who asks that he grant a full report of the recent events. Her hand reaches instinctively for her blade when he comments on Scorizscar's presence, and she is surprised (but pleased) to hear that himself and the others had managed to slay such a formidable foe before it could pose a threat to Drezen.

The Crusader-Queen's court wizard, Chevalier Kiarah Saint-Germaine, is someone that Xanderghul was already fairly familiar with, as she was assigned to assess his story when he had originally signed up with the Crusades to begin with. Thanks to Xanderghul thinking to announce his presence ahead of time via sending, Kiarah already has the necessary spells prepared to undo the transmutation magic right away, restoring the archdruid first, and then Sosiel's brother, Trever. The rest of Trever's squad would be restored slowly, over the next few days.

At the same time, on the same day, Ary Bishop finally managed a small miracle - summoning a table of fresh, delicious food out of thin air for the Demetae and heroes alike to enjoy. After several days of horrific weather and traveling through the terrifying jungles that make up the Taranau Valley, Ary's gesture truly lifts the spirits of the Demetae and helps heal the rifts that had come between herself and them. She finds the Demetae more willing to approach her, ask her questions, and generally be friendly with her after she was able to give them the first good meal they had had in months.

For the next several days, the heroes helped Unafe lead the Demetae around the Lake Lost to the Sun, though thick mists and fog made navigation unusually difficult. At this point, there was no way for Xanderghul to very well pinpoint where the heroes were if he wanted to teleport back, so accompanied by the newly restored Ehren and Sosiel's brother, Trever, they return to Drezen by way of the ley.

The heroes don't make it back to Drezen until the last day of the month of Gozran, due to several days in a row of thick fog, then ash storms. It is no wonder then that the Demetae exclaim with joy as they finally reach the boundaries of Mother Heartwood's influence, where green grass grows freely, and the skies are clear of Abyssal influence, save for the queer night sky that defies any astronomer's attempt to chart it out.

They return to Drezen finding Ehren and Xanderghul already there. There were no ley line confluences anywhere near the Lake Lost to the Sun, and Kiarah was not willing to expend additional resources to act as a common chauffeur for a pair of fellow spellcasters, not when she had so many other tasks for the day on her plate, so the two simply use the ley to travel back to Drezen immediately. It helped that Trever was extremely eager to be reunited with his little brother, Sosiel, and the two bear witness to an incredibly emotional and heart-felt reunion between the two. Sosiel at first attempts to give Ehren and Xanderghul gifts in exchange for helping save his brother, but in the end he is rebuffed (he doesn't own anything that wouldn't feel like an imposition to take), and so he vows to make it up to them in any way possible.

Over the next week the Demetae settle into their new homes, which were placed outside of Drezen, as there were too many of them to reasonably live in the small park that exists around Mother Heartwood. Lord-Commander Bishop is faced with additional political drama regarding her decision to bring the Demetae back as new allies: they were personally responsible for murdering an entire squadron of Crusaders, and the friends and families of those deceased demand that their killers be brought to proper justice by way of jury composed of Mendevians. This authority is not initially granted, because the Lord-Commander well knows that if the Demetae were tried by Mendevians in this current political climate, they are very likely to demand they be executed for their crimes. This would lead to an even greater rift between the citizens of Drezen and the Demetae, and possibly even lead to more violence between the two groups. As a compromise, the Demetae are put under close guard by a specially chosen group of Crusaders, largely composed of those who descend from Sarkorians, to avoid potential prejudice. However this measure was understood to be a stopgap, until the Lord-Commander decided on a final course of action as to how to handle those who killed her ken.

This, combined with the Demetae's general mistrust of the Crusaders they live near, leads to a greater than ever seen before rift between the Crusaders and the Demetae. The Demetae view the Crusaders as over-stuffed colonizers - a group of Southerners who have come to steal what is rightfully kellid land - using kellid druidic magic and claiming it as their own to harness within their own walls. The Crusaders view the Demetae as savage barbarians, ignorant monsters that came to murder their own without even being brought to justice, and solely being shown unreasonable favoritism due to the Lord-Commander's close bonds with the Archdruid of Sarkoris. As the days pass while the Lord-Commander deliberates how to handle the situation, protests start to rise up around the citadel, with Mendevians holding signs and demanding justice for those who had fallen. The Demetae, for their part, stay quiet and with their heads down, though over the past month they had grown to become fiercely loyal and protective of their new Clan-Liege, Unafe, and follow her lead in all matters regarding the Demetae. The Demetae seem eager to rebuild within Sarkoris, but seem understandably apprehensive at being so close to Mendevian colonists who so clearly despise them.

However, not all Crusaders turn against the Lord-Commander's decision. Her reappearance in the city in her previous body, now complete with ethereal wings, has many Iomedaens declaring her rebirth as a miracle, and a clear sign that both she and Drezen have been blessed and chosen by Iomedae to lead the Mendevians to win the final Crusade against demonkind. This leads to an uptick of zealous idolatry that revolves around Ary, dubbing her a living saint, and a true heroine and savior of their times. Bards retelling stories and singing songs of Ary's numerous exploits over the years become newly popular, and are sung in inns and taverns across Drezen. Their devotion to the restored Ary Bishop ends up causing friction with those who are upset with her most recent decisions regarding the Demetae, coming to literal blows in some drunken fist fights in barracks throughout the city. Drezen becomes fractured, with Crusaders mostly either being proud and vocal Bishop-loyalists, versus the conservative Iomedaens, who openly question her willingness to accept literally anyone or 'anything' into Drezen as a citizen, and therefore benefitting from hard-earned Mendevian tax dollars and tithe. These political arguments cause strife within families, communities, and individual squadrons.

Another unexpected repercussion of her new form is that she finds that she has lost a lot of respect from the tieflings under her care. She had underestimated how her unconventional, inhuman appearance had inspired the young tieflings into believing the Crusades were truly inclusive of anyone. The idea that Iomedae had to 'fix' Ary by transforming her into a platonic ideal of a human - blonde, fair-skinned, angelic, tall - leads the young tieflings to feel as though they are also just broken things that the Crusades need to 'fix' and transform into conventionally attractive human beings. The Underfolk are much more easy going about the change - they had been with Ary since the beginning, and understood that her change in appearance was merely a return to her original shape - but the tieflings who had only known the Crusader Knight as an ashen-grey half-drow act out rashly and rebelliously. They are suspected to be the culprits of at least one act of vandalism against a mural that was painted by a Bishop-loyalist, depicting her rebirth as a new, angelic being. The mural had been defaced with red paint in Abyssal runes, stating simply - GREY IS OKAY, with red paint marring her face and wings from view. Many of them defect out of Crusader roles (some going as far to renounce their vows), and end up turning to the Mad Professor, Xanderghul for assurance and guidance.

It isn't long, though, until, a new concern overtakes all else - Ser Markus gathers the heroes together within his hospital to inform them of several new cases of Slime Fever that had popped up among the kellids, as well as one case affecting a young crusader woman that had sexual relations with one of the Demetae tribesmen. Slime Fever, he explains, is a rare condition that that is spread through direct contact with slime that exudes from the infected. Most who contract it suffer for many years before succumbing to the disease, experiencing symptoms similar to leprosy, except their wounds often ooze copious amounts of slime. He had learned that there were several members amongst the Demetae afflicted with this rare, terrible condition, but apparently there were others amongst the Demetae that had been attempting to hide their sickness from the others, making it possible for it to be spread to others. Magical healing is effective treatment to cure the disease within the first two weeks, so those who were caught were quickly taken care of by Markus, but once the disease has taken hold, it is essentially incurable. Luckily (or unfortunately, depending on how you frame it), those who suffer from slime fever often live for many years before finally passing away.

Even the introverted and reclusive Markus had become aware of the present strife between the Demetae and the citizens of Drezen, and he was concerned that if information about Slime Fever spread amongst the citizens, it would only be used as another tool for those to spread hate and prejudice against the newcomers, one that would possibly lead to citizens demanding that they be exiled from the region entirely. The Demetae though, had made it clear that they wanted to re-settle the region, as was their birthright, and would not leave without a fight.

Fortunately, Markus had come up with a potential solution. Pouring through books he had picked up in one of Xanderghul's libraries, he had found a case study in which it was determined that, true to its name, Slime Fever is caused by coming into contact with a specific kind of slime - a Plagueborn Ooze. Most interestingly, by slaying the original Plagueborn Ooze, those afflicted by the Slime Fever caused by that ooze were miraculously cured. This was easier said than done, however as Plagueborn Oozes were formidable foes, capable of consuming and digesting most humanoids that dare stand against them. Even worse, how would they find the whereabouts of the Plagueborn Ooze that had infected the Demetae?

Unafe is eager and ready to assist with solving this puzzle, questioning many of her clansmen in an effort to see if anyone knew the source of the infection. While none of the clansmen are knowledgeable of an 'ooze' causing the sickness that had afflicted them for so long, they do know it was contracted while they were still living in their original settlement, in the Norinor Forest, in Iobaria. They bring up one name - Roga - who was the High Shaman of the Demetae at the time - and who worked desperately and tirelessly to cure the Demetae of the plague that had befallen them. Sadly, he was murdered by his own companion, the legendary saurian Dolok Darkscale, before the tyrant lizard turned on the Demetae fully, slaying many of their kin before they were forced to flee their settlement within the forest. They say that his young apprentice, a woman known as Nelket, was trained beside him. Though she was but a young adolescent at the time, perhaps she would know more of what Roga was able to discover before he was finally slain. Unfortunately Nelket had not accompanied the Demetae who chose to follow Marhevok into the Worldwound, choosing to stay behind in Iobaria. They say she still lives there today, in a town called Mishkar.

I want all 6 heroes to check in, and let me know what your priorities were over the last week prior to now, the sorts of things you investigated or prioritized with your time during the downtime. I have already provided obvious hooks for Ary, Unafe, and Ehren - for Xanderghul/Hinagiku/Isilme I will provide some feedback as to what your measures accomplish during the week.

8 Desnus 4717

Thanks to Ehren's ability to travel the ley, it doesn't take much effort on their part to research the Iobarian lands for a likely ley node for him to transport them instantly to. Teleporting them into a beautiful coniferous forest makes the trip to Mishkar only last a day, one made rather trivial by travelling down the paved roads in the area.

Iobaria is mostly wild and untamed wilderness, composed of enormous forests of soaring evergreen trees, with small human settlements peppered throughout. They never rise above the level of small villages, due to peasant superstition - it was generally understood that bad things happened to Iobarians who attempted to settle in larger numbers. So as a matter of precaution, they disperse and spread out across the beautiful, rugged landscape.

The climate here is similar to that of Mendev - cold and blustery. Despite it being spring, they are far enough north that the permafrost has yet to thaw, so residents have to rely on food stores that have been stockpiled well in advance of the brutal Iobarian winters.

Finally they come to the town of Mishkar, at least according to the map they brought with them, and the helpful advice of the Iobarians they had questioned along the way. The town of Mishkar sits atop a hill, surrounded by wooden walls that are old but well maintained. People, mostly humans, stream in and out of the gates, watched over by sharp-eyed guards. Past the gate is a bustling market, beyond which is a town of low wooden and tone buildings. Most of the construction is fairly new and of human design, with no signs of the cyclopean ruins upon which Iobarian settlements are built. It is currently mid-day, and the town is full of people. Some of them cast curious glances towards the heroes' way, particularly towards the rather conspicuous Ary and Unafe, but they mostly mind their own business rather than let their stares linger for too long.

I'd like all heroes with prepared spell slots or maneuevers (I believe this is Ary (maneuevers), Xanderghul (spells/maneuevers), Isilme (spells), Ehren (Spells) to decide what you are preparing for the day and check in when done.

When Xander returns to Drezen, he gets right back to work, as he is wont to do. Though he is still available to help out around the school when necessary, he lets the appropriate authorities know that his availability will be greatly reduced to all not willing to help him out with his own personal research. The subject of his new research, of course, is the creation of bodies and the transference of souls. Using the book on shabti recovered from Arastrax as a reference, Xander collects and reads tomes on topics as diverse as simulacra-creation, golemancy, spirit-whispering, ghost formation, and more. His goal, of course, is the ability to create a living body that can accommodate a sentient soul -- for himself, and also for Isilme, who has shared that she is having problems with her body. No reference is too obscure for Xander to force interns to read for him, no pathway too ridiculous. He is determined to solve this problem, which means getting a good start on it during these two weeks.

Because of this, he doesn't have much personal attention to devote to Ary's wayward tiefling followers, though he is aware of their plight. He has no wish to go behind Ary's back and steal her adherents, but he also wants to lose the youths to some worse fate even less. He makes himself seen about the university in various monstrous and demonic shapes, performing the same work that he always does regardless of his form. He also dispatches Tabitha, his best student, and Valais, his number two, to get anyone who needs it situated with a cohort that would benefit them, at least until Xander has more personal time to devote to them.

During his nights, Xander deigns to relax. One or two hours each night is devoted to scribing new enchantment spells into his book, while the rest of the time is given to resting alone in his study. While he rarely sleeps more than four hours in a night, Xander still makes sure to make time where his only goal is to do nothing.

Markus' news about the slime fever is taken without much comment by Xander, except that he assigns any of his students interested in medical research to work under Markus' tutelage during the crisis. He is always ready to go, even on a moment's notice, so with several days' notice he is more than prepared to journey to another cold, mountainous land. He leaves Valais behind to administrate the school, considering that transportation by Ehren is strictly limited in the number of personnel.

Using the 18 days, Xander will regenerate his MP to full and also scribe feeblemind, lesser geas, remove curse, explosive runes, and charm person into his spellbook (which costs 11 MP via Wild Arcana).

Xander can also fully charge the staff of freedom's command. I also shuffled around some things in his inventory to clean up his haversack. He's leaving behind: unidentified wand, wand of entangle (CL 1st, 19 charges), scribing supplies (59.5gp), the Lymirin Discourses, powdered opal and diamond (100gp), scroll of plane shift (Material Plane)

I also removed Trever Vaenic's haversack from my inventory, since that probably goes back to Trever.

Spells are prepped. Maneuvers prepped are time skitter, scarlet eye's perception, regal blade and flickering defense.

Unafe and Calmness
As her meditation comes to an end, Hinagiku slowly sits in the lotus position and, for a few minutes, takes deep breaths to reatune herself to the physical world. Her eyes flutter a few times as she opens them, yet her gaze is unmoving, uncannily and already set on Unafe. A subtle smile appears on her vulpine lips.

”Please don’t worry about it Mrs. Unafe.” a barely audible chuckle escapes from her mouth. ”Truth is, seeing Ehren-kun like this was one of the most difficult things I ever saw. I… when I saw him like that, I… was really shaken. Really… For a moment all my calm was about to leave me. So much so that I even questioned if I should break my bond to him. ” the monk says candidly. ”At that moment, I had to draw upon years of training and meditation to calm my mind and soul. But, even those were not enough. I don’t yet really understand what allowed me to keep my calm then… I know it was something stronger than everything else I have ever felt… stronger even than my faith in the path of the Master of masters.” as she says these words, Hinagiku reaches up to her holy symbol. ”That is what I was meditating on. But the present is different, right now I am not calm because of some unseen power. No, I use something everyone has, a bit of hope and trust in my companions. Of course, my years of training and meditation also help. They always do. Anyone can learn them, with enough time. If you want, I can show you how…. Or you can even visit my fellow monks at the temble of Irori in the city.”

Ary’s Transformation
Hinagiku approaches Unafe and …. What seems to be Ary from the clothes…. Though she appears quite changed. So changed that, for a moment, the monk focuses her gaze on her for signs of magic or corruption, demons after all came in all sorts of disguises. Her brow unfurrows when she realizes that it is the original Ary standing there…. plus wispy wings. She finally reaches the duo as Ary is explaining her desire to return to this form. She understood the feeling as she still struggled with the kitsune form, having only recently accepted that it came with a human one. But this was a challenge, and she would see it to the end.

”Impressive Ary, all this done through your will. I am glad you are happy with this change, and clearly favored by Iomedae. I am not sure I understand the link to the woundwyrm thought. I know that Ehren-kun’s transformation has opened my mind to something…. I am not sure what though. Maybe in overcoming this challenge you found some strength of will you did not know about before?”

18 days towards and in Drezen
Hinagiku spends her traveling days has she has so far, helping anyone who needs it during the trip, and spending eight hours every night in the deepest of meditation. Despite slowly expanding her senses, she still is unable to find the source that provided her with the strength to reign in her emotions during the fight against Scorizcar.

When she is reunited with her Ehren-kun even her years of training and meditation are not enough to hide her joy. The most spontaneous smile anyone has ever seen her wear appears on her face. Of course, she does not hug or kiss him in public, but does ask how he has been. She does spend the following day with him. However, she quickly returns to her meditations afterward, spending fifteen hours every day in a meditation so deep no one can rouse her from it. Still, she does find the time to wander through the city, especially at night, and possibly help some lost soul.

After about 10 days, Hinagiku comes out of her meditation somewhat changed. She paces slowly through the temple, fiddling with her holy symbol, looking at the different people in prayer. But, when asked about what preoccupies her, she remains mostly silent, simply mentioning that dependence cannot lead to perfection. On following days, she resumes her long meditations.

Going to Iobaria
Walking through the forest, Hinagiku focuses on the surroundings, noting the beauty of the landscape. ”Ehren-kun, Mrs. Unafe, is this what Sarkoris looked liked in the past?” she asks, having mostly seen the plains of Mendev rather than some of the forest of old Sarkoris.

When they arrive in town, Hinagiku looks at the faces of the people around, trying to see if she can spot someone with clear Demetae features.
perception: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (16) + 19 = 35

Hinagiku retrains her cleric and evangelist levels to levels of monk. This takes 10 days and 1000 gp (I was not sure where to deduct it, so did not). So, no spells to prepare. Also, you can find her full character sheet here, or follow the link in the header. , all text in red will only take effect when she gets another 10 days to retrain. Also, since she has not retrained her VMC, she should still have her Champion of Irori prestige class…. But to be honest, I won’t use those abilities, so I just erased them. It also makes sense considering she is less connected to the god. I will actually write another post on what she discovered during her meditations.

When Chevalier Saint-Germaine’s spell unraveled Scorizscar’s transmutation, Ehren’s body briefly turned from silver to stone, only for his elemental body to immediately crumble away, exposing the flesh and blood and bone underneath. As it would turn out, Ary and Xanderghul were not the only ones who changed in appearance. Ehren’s once-brown hair had turned silver, not like that of an old man’s, but with an unnatural metallic sheen. Likewise, his gray eyes now had a silvery tint, and strange, silver scars now spanned across much of his body in vein-like patterns, marking the paths through which the ley had flowed through him. These changes did not seem to be immediately apparent to the druid, who was eager to find out exactly what had transpired since he lost consciousness.

Disoriented from his days spent in stasis, it took several moments for the druid to comprehend what had happened. The last thing he remembered was the rush of the ley’s power flowing through him - he had been on the verge of slaying the woundwyrm once and for all - only to suddenly be struck by a most horrendous situation, as though his very state of existence was being torn asunder. For all intents and purposes, he had died, then. He is relieved to learn that the foul dragon had been finished off without any further casualties, but even at a glance, it was obvious that the news of his own demise weighed on him heavily. In a rather embarrassed manner, Ehren offered Kiarah and Xanderghul his heartfelt thanks - the former for restoring him, and the latter for ensuring that it happened as quickly as possible.

As he watched Trever’s subsequent restoration, it occurred to him that he was watching a man out of his time. Unafe had endured a similar fate, only to a much greater extreme. Ehren was fortunate indeed to have people who cared about him, who possessed the capacity to save him. He could have just as easily been stuck a statue forever, bound to inaction, forever denied even a return to the great wheel. That would have been a fate worse than death. The druid set those morose thoughts aside and greeted Sosiel’s long-lost brother, finding his own happiness in the joyous reunion that awaited them. Fortunately, arranging a return to Drezen was well within Ehren’s capabilities. He was eager to reunite with Hinagiku and the others, but he was well aware of how prohibitively dangerous it would be to meet them halfway. Instead, he focused his efforts on preparing the city for the Demetae’s arrival, coordinating with Ailig, Isbeyl, and Houna to ensure that there would be a place for them.

Left to his own devices, over the next few days Ehren came to realize that his appearance was not the only thing that had changed in the wake of the battle against Scorizscar. His perceived failure aside, he felt stronger and closer to the Green than ever before. There was a part of himself he lost when he died years ago, a connection to the deep earth that eluded him when he returned to life. Now though, in his meditations, against the soles of his feet, he felt oneness with the earth as a whole, from the deepest cave to the tallest mountain peak. The ley itself seemed more drawn to him than ever, even unbidden. This new power did not make him feel any better about what Scorizscar did to him, but he at least felt confident that he could stop it from happening again.

When the Demetae finally arrived, Ehren made sure that he was there to greet them. It was important for them to see that the archdruid was alive and well, especially after everything they had been through. He is happy to see Hinagiku and the rest of his friends, but Ary grabs his attention immediately. As renowned as she was before, the Lord-Commander’s meteoric rise to fame had not occurred until after her reincarnation, so he was among the few who recognized her original form. It was not all that long ago that he had spoken to her in private, offering to research a means to restore her former body; she had turned him down, of course. Evidently, she had discovered a means to do so herself.

Unfortunately, with the arrival of the Demetae came their inevitable conflict with the crusaders. As much friction as there was between the two factions, Drezen had thus far proven to be a place where people of different cultures could coexist peacefully, even work towards a common goal. That was the very basis of Ehren’s hope that this war could be won. Still, that did not mean that he believed all bygones should be bygones. As trying as their circumstances were, and as unjustified as much of the hatred directed towards them was, the fact remained that the Demetae had crusader blood on their hands. With Unafe and Ary being the two leaders of the factions, Ehren advised them both, advocating for what he believed to be the most peaceable solution - Marhevok’s punishment. Much of the Demetae’s wrongdoing could be laid squarely at the feet of the abusive, grossly incompetent former clan-liege, who was evidently under some kind of demonic influence. Ehren no longer wished death on the man, but one way or the other, he had to pay for what he had done.

Upon first returning to Drezen, Ehren had taken care to warn Markus of the disease that was present among the Demetae. What the druid had not anticipated was that there were others in the tribe who were unknowingly infected, or that the disease would spread so quickly. Having learned that the disease is readily curable if caught early enough, Ehren did what he could for those afflicted with slime fever. Sadly, it seemed that there was nothing he could do for those in the later stages of infection...

-----

Ehren still wasn’t used to traveling so far away from his homeland, but the fact that he could cross such vast distances in an instant eased any guilt he might have felt about leaving it behind. Still, it was not as though they could abandon their mission here, which was every bit as important as one they might have gone on in the Worldwound. Less importantly, he enjoyed seeing the natural environs beyond Sarkoris’s reaches… especially those that were not corrupted by Abyssal taint.

”Parts of it,” he replies to Hinagiku’s question, ”There were certainly many more trees back then.”

When they arrive in Mishkar, Ehren lowers his hood and glances around. After years of going uncut, his hair now reaches past his shoulder; of late he has kept it tied back with a length of green ribbon, leaving only a few idle strands to frame his face.

Spells prepared. Ehren has reattuned his weapon enhancement bonus to his slam attacks. Also, I adjusted the way his gear is distributed so that it makes more sense (wands on his belt instead of in his pouch, etc.). This affects his weight distribution slightly. Also, he will have attempted to identify the properties of the redwood wand from the Demetae hoard each day until successful, and he is now wearing the belt of spirit vines.

Spellcraft (2 attempts): 2d20 ⇒ (10, 18) = 28 Check is 29.

Diplomacy v. Tieflings (Surge): 1d20 + 12 + 1d8 ⇒ (16) + 12 + (2) = 30
Diplomacy for Unity (Surge): 1d20 + 12 + 1d8 ⇒ (4) + 12 + (4) = 20
Profession(Soldier) (Surge): 1d20 + 15 + 1d8 ⇒ (2) + 15 + (4) = 21
Profession(Soldier) (Surge): 1d20 + 15 + 1d8 ⇒ (17) + 15 + (7) = 39
K(Planes) v. Marhevok: 1d20 + 22 + 1d8 ⇒ (3) + 22 + (7) = 32
K(Planes) v. Jerribeth: 1d20 + 22 + 1d8 ⇒ (11) + 22 + (7) = 40 +4 if Evil outsider, +4 more if DEMON

Ary will surge twice over the course of the weeks, as well as surge for the P(Soldier) checks for school moniez, and on further Planes checks v. Jerribeth and Marhevok's condition. She will also utilize Legend Lore regarding Knowledge(Planes) in relation to Marhevok’s abyssal condition and Jerribeth, each of which cost two Mythic Power and a standard action.

As soon as Ary returns to Drezen, there is much to do… but nothing more important than the recovery of the final Crusader Cross that she is aware of. She goes to the quartermaster to request a bastard sword… and barring that, seeks a commission for one. As soon as one is available, she returns it to the Kellid man in order to retrieve the gift that the baker had given to her loved one.

She then holds a service for those who had fallen, whose Crusader Crosses had been found within the Demetae camp. She would seek to, over the coming weeks, deliver each of the Crusader Crosses personally to where they were intended to be if such a thing were even possible - enlisting the aid of the archdruid when necessary.

Next, the trip had been long enough for Ary to have time to think on things - especially those things related to the Kellid populations and the Crusades. They had overlooked something, previously...

There were Kellids that had joined the Templars within the druidic sanctum that they had recovered the ley line from… but there were also people who ostensibly lived in Drezen there. They had sought to ensure that none of the tunnels lead into Drezen and when none were found, it had seemed that things were as they should be… but during the trip, Ary realized that it simply did not make sense for Templars - ostensibly antipaladins - to come and go within Drezen with the defenses that they had in place. If they had been wearing some sort of alignment cloaking magic, perhaps that would make sense. If they had been powerful outsiders who could do such a thing on their own, or even powerful casters or clerics, the same could be true…

But they were not. And as a result, those who came and went through the city’s gates were doing so with some measure of impunity, otherwise, there were underground passages within Drezen that did not directly link to the caverns that they had discovered. She could do little for the underground passages, if they were there, but could at least see to it that those who watched the walls were checked into.

As a result, the second motion that she made was to have a meeting with the High Inquisitor to request that she maneuver resources into checking those people who frequently guarded the walls. It shouldn’t be difficult to create a reason to investigate them without raising suspicion - after all, they could be questioned on any number of mundane things without worry of in-depth scrutiny; watching the walls, after all, was their job.

After setting those wheels into motion, Ary would move to check upon the school that she had created, and the students there. Seeing the tieflings that were attending reacting as they did confused Ary almost immediately. She had earnestly expected for there to be questions as to who she was - with the knowledge that her armaments would answer the question as it was asked and only create scrutiny for a short time. Their repulsion by her original form was markedly different from what she had expected… and in truth, it stung quite deeply.

It took time for her to understand why they felt the way that they did - no amount of self-reflection could have answered such a question for her, and as a result, others had to answer it outright. She had not considered that her form had been a boon to those who normally did not have such heroes to look up to… but similarly, it was dishonesty based upon the fact that they seemed not to know the full story. As such, she asks Kari to gather as many as she was willing or able to come together for Ary to address the issue directly.

Once gathered, she resolves herself to inform them of such, to discuss exactly what she was, and explain that she in fact did not know the plights they had grown up with. Any racism that she dealt with had been limited in scope, both by her station and by her birth. She needed for them to know that the form she now wore was her original form, that she had been born with… and that the way that she looked mattered to her in a different way than most people would understand. That the way that she looked was for herself alone. She did not care that people saw a half-drow when they looked at her, she cared that she did not see her own face in the mirror when she walked by them, that the hair that fell into her face was a constant reminder of the things she could not control… and with that, she resumed the form of a half-drow, though the ethereal wings remain. There was never, at any point, a need to fix Ary for the public. Only a need to fix Ary for herself and to be at home in the body that she had. Looking somewhat defeated, she made a promise to remain within the form that the green had granted her while she moved about in public, but to retain the new form in private and during battle. She had found that her old body had come with some benefits that she was not willing to relinquish… and she would not leave that tool buried when it could be used to save lives.

At the end of her speech, before excusing herself, she called Kari forward. As the tiefling had been boisterous in her rebellions and willing to loudly proclaim the failings of the Crusades, she had become a visible and vocal proponent of the rights of the tieflings that had come into Drezen. As such, with Chaleb Sazomal having been given the position in Icerift to see to it that the area was run properly and fairly… the position of the Magister of Civil Liberties had been opened. She offered that position to Kari, that she might speak on behalf of her people and help Ary to understand those things that she did not herself have the experience to understand. If Kari was willing to speak for the downtrodden, she would have an official voice upon their council.

A few days later, she sought out Ayavah, with the knowledge that one of the tiefling’s primary connections had left and not returned in recent time. She wanted to inform her that she hadn’t heard anything from Valaria and see if the same held true in reverse, then opted to make normal conversation with the woman, asking how things were progressing within the city and if there was anything that she needed, professionally or personally.

Nearly a week after her return, she went to visit with Nurah, wearing her old face rather than that of her half-drow self. She invites Unafe to come along if she is willing. She knew that Nurah would react to both, just not how she would. She took the time to explain to her everything that they had found in the Demetae region, and express her frustration and disappointment. She informed Nurah of the Woundwyrm, of the planar spy, and of Demetae relics that they had recovered - all of which had gone to them. She passed over her Little Book of Celestial Writing to the halfling bard and explained what she had learned about the power that they had gained, entrusting her with her writings for now - and hoping that perhaps the halfling would be able to clean up all of it into something approaching legibility for someone other than herself.

Her official stance when it comes to the Sarkorians remains as it always has - that the Sarkorians had their own justice system, and that to try to apply the justice system of the Mendevians upon them was inherently wrong. In response to the rising tempers, she calls for unity - yes, there was blood upon the Sarkorians hands, but in truth, it had been the machinations of the demonic cults that had driven them into the desperation that had threatened their lives and driven them to view the Crusades as evil outsiders… that many had fallen prey to such and not only the Sarkorians surely meant that it was understandable that it was not their intention to cause so much harm.

In the end, she suggested that the ideal solution was to come to an agreement, diplomatically, that would be fair to all that were wronged. That at the very least, Marhevok would be tried by a jury primarily made up of Sarkorians, and that it would require actual communication to arrive at a realistic and reasonable solution.

This all, of course, drove Ary to have the conversation she had intended to have with Ehren for the better part of a month. She felt strongly that while Ehren had taken on the spiritual mantle of the Kellid people… he should push for some way of unifying the clans as a whole. Whether that was beneath a council, or if it seemed appropriate to attempt to bring a leader into position. She worried, with reason, that even if they did manage to solve the issues with the Worldwound and its demonic influences and armies, that Mendev and the Sarkorians would not easily find peace… a unified front would give the Sarkorians a stronger position with which to speak to Mendev and its Crusaders as equals. She hoped that such a thing would not inherently feel like the exact thing she was trying to prevent. Even if it did, it was better that a friend behave in such a way in privacy than that such a topic were first broached publicly.

As for Marhevok specifically… the truth was that she did not know of an ideal answer. She knew that he had been approached by the same cultist that had originally tempted Vhane… or someone who knew enough of the situation to pretend for such a thing. And so, the first step for Ary was to dive deeply into searching for information on the harbinger of chaos that was Jerribeth as well as researching what might be done to remove the apparent taint that had settled upon Marhevok and transformed him from a shifter not unlike Unafe into a monstrous creature twisted by rage… as had occurred with the rest of the beasts of the Taranau Valley. If he could be purified as Valais and Mother Heartwood had been, perhaps he could be excused for his crimes… though truth be told, the Demetae’s leaders - both Marhevok and Caitlyn had left a bitter taste in her mouth. Marhevok had chosen his own needs over his people time and again, sending them out on raids to protect his mountain of nothing, believing that his culture lived within a broken city left in ruins, while Caitlyn had chosen to beg for his life even after seeing all of the harm that he had consistently caused. In her mind, neither was fit for a role of leadership. If not for her need to be fair and the weeks she had had to quench her own feelings, she likely would have advocated for the same punishment that the more aggressive factions were calling for. In the short term, he would not be allowed within Drezen without a Crusader escort - though whether for the safety of the public, or Caitly and himself, Ary left unanswered.

It is only when those Iomedaeans who have Burner tendencies begin to speak up, vocally advocating against her that she chooses to bring her opinions back into view: The people of Drezen were the people of Drezen. They paid the same taxes, used the same resources, wanted the same things for themselves - happiness. There should be no difference between a tiefling who dreamed of opening a bakery and a human. There should be no difference between a person who was raised in a cult and a person who was raised in any other harmful environment. Everyone should, and must, be lifted together for the betterment of all of Drezen, Mendev, and indeed Sarkoris.

When the mural depicting her new form is defaced, she asks Ayavah and Annabelle to clean it up - not by removing the graffiti, but by enhancing it. The message was one that she agreed with, but she wanted for it to be shown tastefully, rather than as a clear act of rebellion caused by a misunderstanding heart.

Will respond to the rest later. Need to migrate numbers over to Ary BLOCK and tagline among other things (like shopping IRL!). Sorry for any delays!

The remainder of the trip home to Drezen Isilme spends resting. Though she had done her best to hold up for the remainder of the fight against Scorizscar and for gathering the Demetae and leaving the worldwound, the entire trip had left her exhausted and empty in a way she'd never felt before. Upon their return she abruptly disappears, leaving no notice of where she had gone other than a brief message to Aravashnial via sending that she would return as soon as she could.

Four days later, in the dead of night, a knock comes at the door to Ary's chambers. Walking in slowly, like some ghost from the past, comes Fen'wen. That impression only lasts until she speaks, however, her affect obviously Isilme's and not that of Ary's former friend. She smiles weakly at Ary's new appearance after looking her over briefly. "Sorry for disturbing you... I had heard you had been blessed with a new form, I imagine it must be a comfort to be back in your own form," she says to the now farm-girl-turned-saint somewhat tactlessly.

She walks in and sits down against the wall, huddled with her knees drawn in and her arms wrapped around them. "I need help, Ary... I can't change... I can't let Ai'sintar... anyone see me like this," she says, sounding deeply ashamed. "I don't know what to do, the ritual isn't even close to ready yet and I am barely holding on. It's hard enough keeping up with you all right now, but now I cannot even be without reminding everyone that I replaced someone they cared about, that this body was stolen. Ai'sintar hasn't ever had to see Li'an's body like this. I can't... I just can't. I don't know what to do." She looks up from her position at Ary, looking small and vulnerable in a way she hadn't since the day the wardstone had showered them with their power and she'd had to relive her unmaking at the hands of Minagho and Elan's dueling wishes.

Will continue the scene in discord.

Late the next day Isilme shows up to visit with Hinagiku wearing a heavy, hooded cloak. When she lowers her hood, Hinagiku notices immediately that Isilme's appearance was back to how it was when they'd originally met back in the Grey Garrison, before she'd made an effort to dye her hair and change her appearance as much as possible by mundane means. Prior to the battle in Drezen she had spent many evenings practicing meditation with Hinagiku, something that she now realized she missed. Taking on the responsibilities of Spymaster of Drezen had taken most of her focus, however, and most of her personal time she'd been spending with Ai'sintar and checking in on Külə and Yulin. As such she'd not been to visit just to meditate for the past couple of years, something she now regretted in hindsight.

"Hinagiku, I know it has been a while since we last meditated together, but I need your help in gaining control over my mind and body. The spark that was kindled by the wardstone in Kenabres and which has grown since then is naught but an ember now. Ary suggested I come visit, and the more I thought about it, the more I think she is right. I need to center myself and push beyond my limits... Will you help me?"

She didn't doubt Hinagiku would answer 'yes', she'd traveled alongside the monk long enough that Isilme trusted her as a friend. Still, she had neglected their friendship recently until now in her hour of need, making the request nevertheless an uncomfortable one for her.

Will continue the scene in discord.

It's the 5th of Desnus when Isilme finally returns to Drezen, having issued a sending to Ehren asking if he could pick her up at the ley line near Jandherhoff, which had been the closest place she could think of after the plane shift had dumped her out far from Nerosyan and the worldwound. She was quite surprised to find the archdruid had been changed by Scorizscar's magic even after it had been undone, though it was hardly surprising given the unnatural power of the dragon. "I like the new look, Archdruid Ferron, it certainly makes you look the part. Does this make you are the Winter Archdruid?" she'd said with a grin as they prepared to return, referencing Ehren's predecessor's title.

When they all group up in order to head out to Iobaria, Isilme appears renewed and rested in a way she hasn't in many months, not to mention in an exceptionally good mood. She spends most of the trip playing music on her flute and catching up on what the others have been up to in the weeks before the trip, though she herself is somewhat evasive about where she'd been, answering only that she'd needed to go commune with herself and the Song of Spheres somewhere quiet.

"So we are here," she says, looking about the delightfully un-abyssal, if frigid, terrain around them, "So we need to track down the shaman's apprentice now?"