"Come on. We've got one more shot."
Bjorkus has to go through a few people to find the hollow-looking caster, but eventually is lead to the basement layer of one of the building the Aestherics have taken residence in. After getting waved past the guards, Bjorkus finds Liamsho sitting with his legs crossed, staring intently at Bjorkus as he enters. But after a second he realizes that Liamsho's eyes are closed and it's just the eye-tattoos that are making it seem like he's looking.
"Bjorkus." His eyes open, revealing his true, if somewhat shallow eyes. "Have you come with more insight on your vision?"
On a less somber topic, are you interested in coming to with us where I grew up, Dalton? My sister crafts jewelry herself. Perhaps you could show her a few things."
Toramin asks with a smile.
"Or perhaps her me." Dalton rubbed his chin. "At some point, I will also be doing a bit of investigation for my father." The wizard briefly summarized the conversation with Seimah to Toramin. "I do not yet know the timetable to Wasco, however, nor the method of transit I will take to the South across the sea. In theory, I could edge the mountains next to the coast, but I would expect that trip to be rather inhospitable."
Dalton thumbed through the book he'd set on the table the previous day. "It seems Acera was planning to expand her knowledge of spellcraft. This protected tome is perfect for creating a practical encyclopedia of arcane knowledge. I shudder to think what she intended to do with the workings that were to be inscribed within."
The sight of the priest of the Uncaring One was as unnerving as ever but Bjorkus was too generally pissed off to pay it much mind at the moment.
"No, nothin' bout the vision this time. I need a favor - a big one. Sylpha here was in the dungeons with me when I was captured and tortured. Targ had a Kuthite priest that could get into my head. She and the other prisoners helped keep me alive down there. If it weren't for her I think I woulda given up", Bjorkus explains.
"Targ took her wings before she was captured. I wanna see her get 'em back. I'd planned to bring her to Alia, she'd said she'd be around to help us with healing this morning, but they tell me she took off last night. The rest of the Aestherics either can't do it or won't do it without chargin' a soddin' fortune", the bull adds with visible frustration.
"Can you help her?"
"I did not prepare such magic today, but I always leave room for improvisation and can prepare it given some time. However that is some of my more potent magic, and indeed will not be just a favor, that uses some of my resources for today which I am sure could be applied elsewhere."
Gabriel knew that the longer he spoke, the less clear things would be in some regard as to her response. She couldn't exactly comment on everything she said, although he supposed he could pause every few words to get her general opinion. That would be something else to work out. "It's my job to fight the kind of people that locked you up and hurt you. Acera, the tyrant Targ. I'll face more of them and they'll probably be stronger too."
Gabriel forced himself to sit up and look at the horse, to meet her sparkling and intelligent eyes. "If you join me, I'll be teaching you how to fight alongside me. To do anything else would just get you killed. Are you sure you want to face all of that? The danger, the trials, the... all of it?"
"And for me?" Bjorkus asks leadingly.
Liamsho looks at Bjorkus for a moment, then gives a slight nod. "Very well. I will charge half price with the caveat that you must come to me with any further knowledge gained of your vision."
"Do it", he says bitterly.
"Rilka mentioned that Bjorkus will be going to rescue his ship soon. I was going to volunteer my services on his behalf. Would you be interested in linking all three projects. We could briefly visit my home which is much nearer to the coast than we are now. Once, I've ascertained my sister's safety, we could continue to the coast and reclaim his ship. With his ship we would have transport to Wasco.
If one thing can be said for the necromancer, it is that she not only is power-hungry but rather capable of actualizing the means to further power. Not all necromancy is evil, and I would prefer you have more information and knowledge. You could save lives and put wrongs to right with her magic."
The tiefling yawned and was asleep, passing out on the sole pillow he had foraged from the groups former home. His face was buried in the pillow, one of only two ways he could sleep thanks to his horns. And as he drifted, his mind became swallowed by darkness and flame.
Liamsho forces Sylpha to sit for a minute while he examines his work, then gives a nod. "Good, it was nothing but a mundane wound, everything should be fully restored." He sits as if performing this miracle was an everyday occurrence, even as tears run down Sylpha's face. "Keep my caveat in mind Bjorkus. Our paths will cross again someday."
Slypha's wordless joy is almost enough to make Bjorkus forget the roiling anger he otherwise felt.
"Oh I won't be forgettin'", he says darkly while leading her outside the hollow-eyed priest's tent. "I promise."
"I know you wanna take 'em for a ride", the bull says with a nod at the strix's new ebony wings. "But you need to get some more rest and I've got more business here. Go find a place to shut your eyes and I'll catch up with you later. Just promise you won't go flyin' again for the first time until I'm there with you to watch."
"I did have a glance at her spellbook. While I'm unsure if there are any revelations significant enough to work the miracles you allude, there is a series of incantations for what appears to be scrying. With some study, I may be able to learn the art and enact it." Dalton was unsure of Toramin's understanding of the implications. "Scrying, unlike some divinations, can be used to do more than just observe; one can also send messages through the connection to the recipient. Perhaps you wish to tell one of your clan of your homecoming so they can prepare a feast? Or maybe you'd rather they stay surprised. Either way, linking our quests together sounds like a fine plan to me."
Sylpha continues to be choked up for words, but she nods and gives Bjorkus a passionate kiss before leaving for one of the Aestheric shelters.
"Miracles? Nay. Nothing so grand. Or if they are miracles, then they are of the kind that small actions lead to large doings. Bjorkus' spell that removed my fatigue from the necromancer's charm saved my life from the gunslinger and restored the strength I needed to bring her down. Could his spell move mountains? Certainly not. It was, however, exactly the tool needed. Your magic gives you a lever by which to move the world around you. The effect is determined by how you apply your lever."
After a few moments of thought, Toramin responds. "Let it be a surprise."
If my father is trying to prevent my homecoming, then I see no reason to give him, or whomever is interfering with my letters, more time to prepare.
Dalton chuckled at Toramin's flattery - at least that's how he took it. "As you wish."
The wizard glanced over to Rilka. "Miss Featherfeet, what is your next order of business? Have the Aestherics given you another assignment?"
A) Get a few extra hours of sleep.
B) Check with Krokar where the fighting is at the thickest. 1) Because he knows his presence on the front lines in a morale booster but also to feel like he's making up for missing out on the fight with Targ and Acera.
C) Contact Four Tooth via whispering wind and have him keep an eye out for Sylpha's brother.
D) Check in with the party.
Dalton's retelling of his visit with the elderly elf stuck in Toramin's mind as he ate his breakfast.
With the taste of honey on his tongue, he offered Dalton his perspective. "You mentioned that the old elf said it was an honor to help you because of your heritage? I doubt he was lying. I am no expert on elves, but if they are anything like the dwarves then the wealth and privilege that can accrue in certain families when generations lasts for hundreds of years can put human nobility to shame."
"I'm sure you are quite right, and I would be lying if I said the wealth was not tempting. But with my mother's omission of details about my father and Seimah's deference to his house, I'm more interested in the social implications."
Maybe I'll scry on him or Malan. He might be able to resist the pull if he is of arcane renown, but Malan is but an armorer...
The dwarf smiles indulgently at Dalton's greed.
Wealth has its uses I imagine, though I've never understood the focus on it. Perhaps because I've never wanted for it.
Not for the first time, Toramin reflected on the privilege that shaped his life. He had never truly known want or hunger in the way he expected Dalton had. Toramin possessed few luxuries and lived a dangerous double life, but all his necessities were taken care of without thought or request on his part. Who had paid for his refined food and lodgings in Andril? Geoffrey? His family? He didn't know. He had simply gone to the inn known for its dwarven accommodations and told the innkeeper his name. The innkeeper had replied that he had been expected.
His life in Dağın Kalp had been accommodated in much the same way. Where some of his sibling spent lavishly, they were also more firmly embedded in the engine that generated the wealth and power of the Trealamhgabha.
Once Toramin might have thought himself different from his siblings . . . different from his father.
Yet here I am serving my grandmother's interests and the good of the dwarven nation by aiding causes not my own. I'm blessed that my duties have not been onerous. Difficult, yes, but I would oppose genocide and slavery under any circumstances.
Maybe Narad is the only one who is different, though how much of his rebellion is simply because he can? I wonder what adventures he has gotten himself into?
The darkness that consumed him was not the sweet oblivion of sleep. It was the smoke, the acrid smell of flesh burning, the horrid feeling of fire lapping at his heat resistant skin even as it consumed those before him. In each he saw a question, in each face without form he saw pleading. Why? Why hadn't he saved them? Others he saved, but these he torched?
Unlike in reality, where Gabe had forced himself to face his mistake, the dream Gabriel tried to turn away. But there they were. Faceless parents and children around him, crowding him, getting closer. Their faces obscured by smoke and flame, he could not see, but he did not need to, to know what their expressions said.
He cried, he cried out, he screamed right along side their voiceless screams. They surrounded him, clung to him, pulled him down into the flames and the ash. He turned, his courage coming to the fore, and he reached for their arms to pull them out of this hell. Gabriel pulled with all his might, but with a sickening crack he realized all he had done was make things worse.
They covered him now. There was no light. He saw in that strange black and white that came when the darkness surrounded him. How odd. He could still feel the flames licking at his skin, so there was fire. But there were so many bodies atop his own. On and on it went, the cloying smell of burnt flesh filling his nose. It came to the point where he knew it was a dream but no matter how hard he tried he could not wake, making him doubt. Each time he failed the doubt grew, as did the clinging darkness that was not smoke.
There was no light.
The horses. Each one was spooked, shying away from him as if he were some sort of predator. Some were clamoring at the stalls, others were simply cowed. It took Gabriel several moments to spot the shattered lantern in the boy's hand. The glass had cracked and splintered like a web and what was left was barely clinging on. In a moment Gabriel was certain that glass in the area all around had been shattered much like that had been. He winced. It had been over a decade since he had accidentally touched on that power and almost another half since he had done it in his sleep.
“Sorry.” Gabriel said, his voice raw from what had literally been a glass shattering screech. ”I'll uh... I'll cover whatever I broke.”
It was probably a silly thing to say. Gabriel was one of the 'heroes' of Akropash and no one in their group was exactly hard to recognize. But hero status would never change who he was and he was someone who took responsibility for his actions. 'Really? And how do you plan on doing that with forty lives on your shoulders?' Gabriel winced at that particular barb, coming from his own mind no less. The dark thoughts of his dream still clung to his mind. He stood slowly, shook his head and began gathering up the blanket and pillow he had slept with. He had work to do today, after all. No time to spend worrying about something he couldn't change.
Gabriel stacks them in a neat pile and then turns to the young stable lad still hanging around. ”Do you mind if I borrow one of your brushes, a pale, and a towel? My friend here has been through quite and ordeal and would probably appreciate being clean.”
Either the young lad was shy, Gabriel's new status was making him shy, or being around a real Pegasus was making him shy because the kid didn't actually answer with words. He simply pointed to where the tiefling could find supplies, his eyes wide and perhaps going to the blonde paladin's horns or tail more then was necessary. Only twenty years old himself, Gabriel wondered if he was old enough to call others kid, or even think of them as such, as he gathered the items and returned to his new friends stall. The stable hand was gone, likely looking after the many spooked horses Gabriel had bothered with his voice, so Gabriel opened the gate himself this time. No lock or even bolt. Just a simple knot that held it together, letting the Pegasus leave if she chose too. Gabriel smiled at that. He barely remembered telling the owner of the stables that she shouldn't be kept in a stall she couldn't leave last night. It was all a blur that-
Darkness, smothering smoke, burning flesh, it filled his nose as the bodies pressed-
-Gabriel wasn't sure how long he had been on the ground. He was grateful, at least, that he hadn't eaten yet. It meant he didn't have to clean up after his own vomit. His stomach twisted as he pushed himself up for the second time this morning and he moved to the Pegasus' side, ignoring her worry. Not because it didn't touch him, but because thinking about it too closely might put him on the ground again.
”Should have probably done this yesterday. It looks like the lad taking care of the horses got the blood out of your coat at least. Remind me to thank him.” Gabriel forced cheer into his tone as he held up the towel and showed it to her. Water wasn't exactly a scarcity with clerics who could create it on a whim but there was nothing so large as a bath for such a creature.
He waited until she gave her assent, then stepped forward and started wiping down her coat. Slow, long and firm strokes that didn't try and press too deeply but also worked to loosen whatever was in the beautiful white he worked on. He only did a preliminary rub down, largely because the wet cloth was only meant to get grime and the like out. The real cleaning would be done with the brush. When he picked that up and started working on her coat he spoke again, the cheer a little less forced this time. Doing something, anything, helped him take his mind off the night before. The fact that it was stable work, something he was acutely familiar with thanks to his days as a squire, only served to help. ”Then again, with how wide eyed he is, maybe he was grateful for the chance. Not every day someone see's a creature like you.”
Gabriel offered a smile, then added after a pause a hairs breadth too long, ”A beautiful one, I mean.” It wasn't hard to tell he was joking and this was one of his foray's into trying to understand the Pegasus more. She understood common, clearly, but how much interaction had she enjoyed with people? People that weren't crazy, psychopathic witches? Did she understand humor? Well, after yesterday he certainly bet she had at least a small sense of humor, but how well did she understand it? Gabriel wasn't learned enough to know these things off the top of his head so he did the next best thing. Try.
The brushing would take at least an hour, with Gabriel being as thorough as he possibly could. It wasn't just for his benefit that he did this after all. The work helped to clear his mind, but a clean coat was important for a horses health, and he was willing to bet that a Pegasus was similar enough that it was the same for them as well. He went so far as to check her hooves and even ask her to open her mouth so he could see her teeth, and while he was more then happy to accept some guff from her for it, the tiefling was also quite serious about seeing to her health.
”You can probably take care of yourself just fine, but if you're going to be helping me out then the least I can do is seeing to things like this. Besides, it's relaxing.” Was what he would explain if she pressed somehow, perhaps refusing one of the few things he was checking after the careful brush down. When he was finally done and satisfied, Gabriel exited the stall and turned to his new friend. ”While we have the chance, I want you to come meet the others. Toramin, Bjorkus, Dalton, Rilka. They each played a huge part in taking down the evil that held this city in it's grasp. And they're friends, or at least comrades. After that, well, I have work to do. You're welcome to join me.”
Gabriel paused as he thought about it, going about to return the stuff he had borrowed and collect the pillow and blanket. When he returned to the stall he continued. ”In fact, I'd encourage it. Today I'm going to be dealing with a rather deadly undead, and he wasn't even the strongest foe I faced yesterday. I've no idea what sort of experience you've had with danger but this will be a good chance for you to see the sort of threats we'll end up facing together.”
Gabriel stood outside the stall and waited, his mind more clear then it had been, but his thoughts more serious then cheerful at the moment. There was more work to do after all.
”I’d like to take a look and see if any of her spells can be transcribed into formulae,” Rilka says. ”Well to start the day, I want to find Mrs. Bergun, Yugulk’s wife. I need to apologize for my role in abducting her and killing her bodyguard. After that, I thought I’d talk to Ninnec about the history of Akropash. There might be an old legend or myth about the founding of the city we could...repurpose to help with building a new government.”
Rilka’s grin is wide. ”No mission yet.”
Krokar sends Bjorkus to a few places where some slavers are stubbornly holding up in manses or where a few undead have taken root. None are particularly dangerous missions, and Bjorkus's presence makes the fight end that much quicker. One slaver flat out surrenders upon seeing him.
After some prodding Gabriel finds the pegasus is fairly used to being taken care of. Magical creature or not, no thumbs makes these little chores hard.
The pegasus looks at Gabriel's eyes, giving a little nod before following him.
”I’d like to take a look and see if any of her spells can be transcribed into formulae,” Rilka says. ”Well to start the day, I want to find Mrs. Bergun, Yugulk’s wife. I need to apologize for my role in abducting her and killing her bodyguard. After that, I thought I’d talk to Ninnec about the history of Akropash. There might be an old legend or myth about the founding of the city we could...repurpose to help with building a new government.”
Rilka’s grin is wide. ”No mission yet.”
"If you were interested, you should have said something! My book in the other room might have a liquifiable spell or two for you."
"When do they usually give you these missions?"
"I think repurposing a myth is extremely clever, Rilka. Can you pass that apple?"
Gabriel first heads to the Aestherics command center. Rather then bother Krokar right away, he simply leaves a message with the man that the Pegasus had decided to stay with Gabe. Gabe knew he would need some other supplies but that wasn't any large rush like the combat equipment was.
The second stop was a little more unsettling, but Gabe had promised. Rather then actually go into the ruins, Gabe simply shouted from the edge of them. He got some weird looks from the Aestherics in the area but the spirit that resided with in would have little trouble hearing the tiefling, raw voice or not. The over all message was that he'd return by evening when the Warlord was supposed to return and honor his promises.
With that done, the tiefling felt it was time to see the others. Leading a Pegasus through Akropash was... Interesting. Gabriel saw little sign of slavers, and instead was greeted by the sight of many wearing the broken chains. Not all of them had kept those on after the first day but enough that it was clearly going to stay a symbol for a long while. As far as symbols went, Gabriel was alright with it.
Thankfully the Pegasus attracted more attention then Gabriel did. Either they didn't recognize him or they were too distracted by the brilliant winged horse to notice who he was. Gabriel was fine with that, though he did ask everyone to give the creature a little room when they started to crowd around her. When they finally got out of the streets and into the property that was apart of the groups home, Gabriel turned and looked at the Pegasus. "Is going out always going to be like that with you? I mean, I know you're basically a legendary creature, but still..."
She neighs and blows hot air in Gabriel's face, trotting forward.
Gabriel reaches the ruins and calls out for the warlord, who shows his presence after a moment. He steps out, greatsword resting on his shoulder. The shade shows itself as well, but remains within the darkness of the ruins. [i]"So you have returned. You have two promises to keep, or we shall spread ruin and death to all in this city." The warlord looks at Gabriel expectantly.
Bjorkus takes off for each location given to him by Krokar without a second thought, hoping that each one will be what he needs to feel fulfilled - to fill the void of failure that had clouded his heart with doubt. When he moves among the rebel forces, the bull offers words of strength and courage and sometimes even gives voice to the song that turns ordinary men into titans. And when he joins the battle himself, Bjorkus fights like a demon, cleaving through undead with massive blows more powerful than ever before and trampling mercenaries foolish enough to side with the remaining slavers underhoof.
The further I go, the more things stay the same. Working with the Aestherics. Freeing Akropash from the chains of slavery. It wasn't enough. I wasn't strong enough. I always thought I wanted folks to believe I was worthy of my father's legacy but I don't think that's true anymore. I want to be worthy.
I've got to get stronger.
After dragging out the surrendered slaver by the collar, Bjorkus looks to the rebels surrounding him. They looked up at him with so much admiration - so much hope. What did they see?
"You were smart to surrender, you've saved your men a whole lotta pain and death, but your soddin' fate's in Akropash's hands", the bull says handing the prisoner off to one of the Aestherics.
***
"I think that's enough for today", he tells the Aestherics with him. "If somethin' big goes down you know how to find me."
Bjorkus finds his way back to Sylpha without any issues who's sipping at some soup amongst dozens of other homeless civilians. Upon seeing Bjorkus she grins and puts the bowl down, running outside. She gives him one more kiss, than starts running and vaults into the air.
A black figure streaks into the air, flying above Akropash. Onyx wings flash out and beat, and the cries of freedom and joy ring from the figure. There's a movement and the sky gets an image of two strong hands ripping chains apart as the figure circles around the image. After a minute of this display (and much cheering) the onyx figure goes back down to the ground.
He resists a sudden and very instinctual urge to simply run when they approached. Fear wasn't exactly working it's way into his mind but it was still easier around these creatures to feel that sort of base panic. From what he recalled of the battle that made sense. "You have returned already? Good. I will keep my promises. Allow me the the time it takes to find the priests and equip myself and I shall see you both given peace this day."
Bjorkus cheers and laughs. It's a hearty genuine laugh - something the half-minotaur didn't know he needed badly.
"Well I doubt I looked that good when I was doin' it", he adds as he jogs to meet Sylpha where she landed. "Everything workin' right?"
The pegasus's ears flatten against her neck as the undead show themselves. She prances around uneasily.
Sylpha lands on Bjorkus with enough force that would knock over a lesser man. She laughs and for the first time since Bjorkus has seen her she seems genuinely happy. "Oh they're perfect!"
His voice was calm, gentle, but his words were direct. "I realize they make you nervous. They make me nervous and I'm pretty sure they're magics can't touch my mind. But we'll face worse together and we'll have to be steady when we do. People's live will count on that."
Word for word it was not. But the gist of what he had said had been Geoffrey's words once when he was training a young paladin, encountering undead for the first time. Such a small incident... That it would come back to him when he needed it now was lucky. Or perhaps by design. Did such teachings often pass on from one to another like that?
She wasn't training to become a paladin, but soon enough she'd be training to fight, and the words didn't really need to be for paladins to be useful. He did not smile at her, did not interject a joke, instead following his masters footsteps and giving the winged horse time to think on what had been said.
Gabriel lead her back toward the Colosseum, and there he would ask around for Krokar until he was told where to find the man. Once he did, Gabriel was quick and brief. "The Warlord has returned and the Shade is restless. It seems like something better dealt with soon."
He runs a hand through his hair. "Are you suggesting I should take on the warlord? I have no doubt I would win, but I believe you capable of it and I'd rather not make a spectacle out of the whole thing."
Gabriel was not surprised that the guy spoke of winning. Krokar had been part of the fighting yesterday and though he hadn't fought the same sort of foes the party did, he had probably been fighting just as long. The man hardly looked like it had phased him. It made Gabriel briefly consider an idea but he shook it off in favor of focusing on the task at hand. "You have access to priests though. The spirit claimed that he needed one that could create... holy ground in order to be put to rest. Once I defeat the Warlord it will be safe for the priests to do that, though I'd stick around until it was done, just in case."
A half an hour later Gabriel is properly outfitted and walking out when Liamsho the Unliving approaches him. His hallowed face and tattoos continue to remain unnerving. "I was told to accompany you for a ritual today. Lead on."
Gabriel had never met Liamsho, as far as he could recall, so the unnerving tattoo's and hallowed face made him shiver just a little upon seeing him. "You look... Familiar..." Gabriel wondered at that. The tiefling back in the hills had looked a little like that, almost skeletal. That thought made him shiver. "Alright, lets go."
The tiefling's armor was simple, functional, and still somehow ornate. Thus was one of the prices' of wearing Full Plate armor. It would offer him far more protection, and Gabriel was already used to such weight so it didn't slow him down anymore then his old breastplates would, but all the same it felt a little... comfortable? Very, actually. He knew it was hot to the touch under the sun, but his own fire resistant skin hardly noticed. Because it was fit to his form perfectly it was oddly the most comfortable set of armor he had ever worn.
So when he walked out of the office, he naturally felt a little self conscious. Putting the helmet on made things a little more bearable but he still felt like people might be looking at him funny. The fancy sword on his hip didn't help, though Gabriel had already briefly tested it's weight. Thinner, more elegant, and yet somehow heavier then the greatsword. He had been told that was the lead lining, which would, with it's shape, make his swings that much more effective.
The walk back took a little longer thanks to Gabriels bulk but he gestures for the Pegasus to hang back a little, then approached the ruins unafraid. "Shade! I have brought with me a priest capable of putting you to rest. Warlord! I have come prepared to face you in honorable combat!"
Gabriel draws his sword, but does not raise it. The heavy blade sat well in one hand. When he see's the form of the Warlord come forward, Gabriel would take a deep breath. And with his exhale, the area around him would suddenly become much brighter. "Are you ready?"
The warlord steps out, greatsword on his shoulder again. He begins walking forward definitively, then starts jogging, then breaks into a full on sprint. Even being ready for the blow, Gabriel finds the warlord's power and skill cuts through his defenses, christening his new armor with blood.
Normally, following such words, there is a crackle of energy that begins to envelop the tiefling, his blade, and the general area around him. A beautiful sound would fill the air, the constant hum of ringing, of power and light. This time however, that does not happen. None of it happens. There is no song, no swelling of power. Gabriel's eyes go wide and he raises his blade in defense, uncertain suddenly of what was wrong.
He reaches for his other power instead, the ability to heal, and without even touching the wound he can feel the crackling energy hissing in the cut and sealing it shut. It wasn't perfect but it did handle most of the damage that Gabriel had taken in that blow. He eyes the Warlord warily, unlike his reckless self in the battle the day before, and starts circling the creature with his sword raised. Were it not for the fact that his healing and even the light came when he called, Gabriel would have feared he had fallen. But they did answer his need, so this was something else.
Gabriel is surprised when his blade lands a blow. Not because he landed one but because of what followed. A loud BOOM fills the air and in the instant his sword lands against the creature, a single brilliant bolt Prismatic lightning strikes where the blade had struck. Gabriel is stunned, but doesn't miss the opportunity to swing again against the creature.