Zastoran hands out curative extracts as though they were refreshments at a social gathering, ensuring that everybody is at tip top shape. The surviving members of "B Team" all lie on bedrolls in the alchemist's tent, alongside Marossa, who apparently slept right through the commotion. You are told that she is much better off than before, but that it will take a good deal of time for her to recover completely.
"Assuming that he wants to turn back into a human," Zastoran says to Sarala as he works, organizing some empty flasks. "And that he is in a mood for talking. From what you all said about him, he might not have been born with his curse. In which case, it should not be transmittable. If you really intend to speak with him, it might be worth asking him about that. Worst case scenario, a dose of aconite might break the curse before it takes hold."
Narkû finds that the mercenaries on guard duty are more than happy to listen to him talk about how good he is at killing things. Evidently, absolutely nothing of interest has happened at the monastery since your departure, leaving them bored out of their minds. They discreetly pass him their waterskin, filled with strong but watered-down ale; all that their boss will let them have while on the job, one of them laments.
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Sarala is a bit surprised that anyone would bother to follow her as she went to pester Father Zastoran. Still, the monk does not show too much surprise on her face, just keeping her hands in her pockets and her tail arced over her head.
"Well, hopefully Julius will talk to him. I'm not a big talker, you know, or at least not a smooth talker like Julius is," says Sarala, shrugging lightly, "And hopefully you have some aconite that we could borrow if it came to that? I think you're right, though, it doesn't seem like he's always been some kinda crazy hermit. Hopefully he can also tell us why B Team is so sleepy still... But Julius'll need to rest first. And so will I. If I told you about the day I'd had, you'd probably be all, 'you should really wear armor' and I'd be all, 'nah'."
"Rest is a good idea, we all need our energy if we have to face more like our captive"
"Rest, and prayer, to be sure."
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Julius starts visibly when Thurrios mentions his goddess' view of healing. He raises a finger as if to say something, then stops. He shakes his head, and then simply turns to Almah instead.
"If you have any way of securing Haidar against any chance to cast spells, I would recommend it. We did find him in a Temple of Nethys among much magical energy, so I can only imagine he has some knowledge of the arcane."
With that he returns to his food and conversations with Sarala and Ruika, pausing only as Sarala seeks out the healer to chat.
Supping and eating very little, even after the evening has arrived, Ruika adds to Julius; "Tie up hands, maybe break fingers - though may result in swearing only. But threats stop him bespelling." She taps the edge of her spoon on the bowl.
Following Julius and Ruika’s advice (short of breaking the wereleopard’s fingers, at least), Haidar is bound in chains and gagged before being dragged off to the crypt.
Everyone in the monastery wakes up bright and early, once again greeted by the familiar (to everyone but Ruika, perhaps) scent of cooked bacon. As everyone performs their morning rituals, there is little cause to believe that this day would start any differently than the last. Before anyone can convene in the nave for Almah’s briefing however, the sound of panicked shouting echoes through the monastery’s hall.
“Eyes on the sky, people!” the mercenary Trevvis shouts from right outside the nave, “I don’t know what the hell this thing is, but it can’t be good!”
Indeed, anyone observing the sky, whether from outside or through one of the numerous holes on the ceiling, can make out an ominous shape circling a hundred or so feet above the monastery.
"It is too early to be looking at the sky... give Narkû more bacon."
"And someone give Narkû a bow."
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After Sarala has done her morning workout and done the standard fruit/vegetable to meat exchange with anyone willing, the Pathfinder looks up towards the sky with a bit of a squint.
"Is that some kinda flying wolf? I wonder... hey," she says to nobody in specific, "You think I can hit that from here?" She produces a shuriken from her sleeve, spinning it around on her finger as she tries to determine the distance of the thing. "Is it some kinda monster?"
Having it pointed out. He gets his weapon ready
"Just in case this creature is hostile"
He adds Detect Evil for good measure
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"Some sort of flying wolf? Yes, this likely bodes ill. I recommend we prepare for a fight."
Before going to bed, the half-orc took a dusk meander back towards the town. After being gone a couple of hours, she returned nearly overloaded with boxes & wood that she moved into a corner of the monastery. Keeping to herself, Ruika ensured that she awoke bright & early.
Pulling down her cloak, she looks out to see what the commotion is.
"You guys are imagining things. It's just one of those desert birds. Quit being so anxious to kill stuff, guys." Julius rolls his eyes. "It's like that's all you're here to do."
Thurrios looks at Julius, "isn't there some ancient and valuable artifact hidden, buried, lost, or owned somewhere that you should be planning the procurement thereof?"
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"Huh? Not trusting my great eyes, Julius? I'll take another look," says Sarala, reaching towards her eyes to make her finger binoculars, then realizes there's a spinning shuriken on one of them. Instead, she makes a finger spyglass. "Oh! It's a wolfbird of some kind! Yep!" She lowers her fingers and then pretends to throw it towards Julius so that he can take a look.
"Maybe we should ask it to come closer to get a clearer look."
Garavel gives the shuriken on Sarala's finger a raised brow, but Almah merely nods.
"If you think you can make the shot, then take it," she says, watching the flying creature warily.
Meanwhile, Trevvis hands Narkû his longbow, along with a few arrows. "Uh, yeah, sure. Here. You really think you can hit that thing from all the way down here?"
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Thurrios looks at Julius, "isn't there some ancient and valuable artifact hidden, buried, lost, or owned somewhere that you should be planning the procurement thereof?"
"Indeed, Sir Thurrios. Each day and every day," Julius sighs as one who bears a heavy burden. "I promise I will locate your in this desert eventually. Isn't that what this expedition is all about?"
Once Sarala insists on the bird being a wolf-in-bird-clothing, Julius exaggeratedly catches the finger telescope and pantomimes twirling it around his fingers as Sarala does with the real shuriken.
"Alright, sure, you are seeing a wolf-bird. Well, let's assume that at this distance it can see us well. Most birds can see very well at height, so a wolf-bird surely wouldn't be any different. So for the moment, it's not attacking us, but you all think that attacking it is the best plan." Julius looks around at everyone with a wry expression. "Has everyone forgotten wolves travel in packs? If we're all staring at the non-aggressive one which is keeping our attention, where are the rest of the wolves, and what are they up to?"
Julius raises a finger suddenly. "Oh! Wolf-birds. Excuse me."
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"Huh? No, of course I don't think I can throw a shuriken that far away, that'd be crazy. It'd hit as hard as a kitten's whiskers, too, after losing all that momentum," says Sarala, "I don't know anything about wolf-birds, to be honest, or wolves really, so I'm not gonna have any common ground to befriend it with."
She shrugs and stops the spin of the shuriken, tucking it back up into her sleeve, "Feel free to negotiate with the wolf-bird. I don't know how angry it looks, it's hard to see, but don't come crying to me when it's sucking out all your blood."
She pauses, "Sucking blood, that's wolves, right?"
"Narkû does not think Narkû can hit it from this distance, but Narkû wanted a bow if it comes closer. Narkû can not even see this 'wolf-bird' yet"
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Sarala says, "I'll take another look, for your benefit, Julius. And this time, two eyes are better than one." She makes binoculars with her fingers and stares off at the thing in the air to try and make it out.
"Alright, so, maybe like a bird-wolf-deer sorta looking thing? It's looking at me and looking mighty mean, Julius. I just saw it lick its chops, it's gonna eat me! Quick! Negotiate with it!"
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Seeing how serious his friend is, Julius frowns and peers up at the wheeling beast above.
After he really thinks about it for a moment, Julius blurts out, "The creature you're describing sounds like a peryton."
At Thurrios' blank expression, Julius explains further, slowly.
"A peryton is a bloodthirsty creature that revels in consuming the hearts of any creature weaker than it…especially those of humanoids. Bleh!" Julius makes a face, but continues the patronizing lesson on arcane animals. "Like many magical beasts, the peryton is as intelligent as any man despite being such a vicious fiend."
At this point the arcanist sighs and waves a weary, long-suffering hand. "Carry on then. Make plans to kill it. If it's really a peryton, there's absolutely nothing good that can come of it shadowing our steps. If we are to once again head to Kelmarane or the Temple of Nethys, it just won't do to have this flying beacon betraying our presence every step of the way."
As everyone deliberates on what to do about the flying creature, it circles the monastery a few more times, before finally altering its course. With a mighty flap the winged beast picks up its pace, soaring toward Kelmarane.
"I suspected as much," Almah says, biting her lower lip. By now, she has lifted a hand to grasp her lower chin. "Being discovered was always a risk, but for it to happen so soon..."
"Wait, are you saying that thing is going to tell the gnolls where we are?" Felliped asks suddenly, his face pale. The bard has been better armed since his time in the stables, but at the moment, he looks just as distraught as he did then. "Oh gods..."
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"A peryton? You made that up! Sounds like a Varisian township more than a wolf-bird. And now it's a wolf-bird scout?"
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Julius considers Thurrios' point. He gives a concession frown waggling his head back and forth.
"Actually...peryton does sound like a Varisian township when one considers the local dialect and naming conventions of the area around Magnimar..."
Julius pauses, but then suddenly snaps his fingers with wide eyes.
"Oh! That's right! Your future bride Undrella mentioned something about the peryton, she just didn't call it a peryton."
On the topic of Kardswann’s non-gnoll allies, Undrella notes that there are two in particular you should be wary of.
“The first is the winged creature living in the old mill. It has agreed to follow Kardy’s orders, so long as the Kulldis provide him with a fat goat every other day. It might not be so happy if it learned that you interrupted its meal.
”The more dangerous of the two is Kezurkian, a demon conjured up by one of the Carrion King’s priests. In the absence of the gnoll patrols, he stalks the streets, hunting down interlopers… you are fortunate indeed to have not become acquainted already.”
"Given that we already took of care the goat-demon, I'm betting the 'winged creature' is surely the peryton we just witnessed circling."
Julius raises a finger taking a teacher's pose once more.
"Also, I forgot to mention, the peryton's most dangerous weapons are their incredibly sharp antlers, which often inflict grievous wounds during battles with them. Sometimes when peryton kill humanoid prey, they have been known to immediately tear into the victim's chest cavity and devour the heart. The display is said to be quite horrific to behold. Personally, I'd hate to witness that happening to any of you."
Julius looks at Felliped sadly not realizing how such a direct gaze following these words may appear to the nervous survivor.
Almah takes a deep breath before turning to face Felliped. "Even if they do acknowledge us as a legitimate threat, it will take time for them to amass their forces," she explains, nodding to herself as she paces back and forth. "We could set up our defenses here, but with five of our warriors down..."
She comes to a sudden stop when Julius speaks, her attention grabbed not by his lecture on perytons, but by his mention of Undrella.
"The harpy witch... she gave you the keys to the battle market, did she not? I believe that the time has come for you to use them. My hope was for you to have more time to whittle down on the gnolls' numbers, but that window of opportunity is closing. Our best chance now might be for you to strike at their leadership directly."
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"Yeah, may as well. And... you have some able-bodied folks around here who would be able to mount some kinda defence at least. You'll just need to stay safe until we get rid of their leadership," says Sarala, returning her hands to her pockets. "Sounds pretty dangerous, though, to go in there head on. We'll probably want to be well stocked on curatives. Not that these magical sorts aren't good at healing, just sometimes you gotta use that magic oomph to blow some guys up."
Shielding her eyes even beneath her veil, the witch seems to dislike to open azure sky and sets her shoulders in a stance of determined annoyance. "So speck in sky tell gnolls our location. Could call on spirits of air to force horned-bird down, or Sarala jump and pull it down." Ruika says optimistically in her dour tone.
However her eyes light up with an evil glint at the mention of the battle-market; "You have keys! Let's go, slaughter them..." There's a trifle too-much enthusiasm in her voice; "Spirits will give me enough healing to cure you all.... unless you need other sources." The witch moves over to her small cordoned off area and starts to load up on acrid vials and flasks of strange liquids.
"I am unsure of everything that one just said," he points at Ruika, "but going back in to kill gnolls sounds fine to me."
"Cause Great White Orc smart! Everyone agree." Ruika balls one hand into a fist and taps her chest with pride, eager to get over to the market to get vengeance upon the creatures that killed her tribe.
'Pity not everyone as concise as I.'
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"Yeah, I was thinking of trying to knock that thing down from the sky. I mean, it might eat my heart, but if I knock it out of the sky, that'd be a wash," says Sarala with a bit of a shrug. "I'd need something to climb onto to jump off of. I know this might come as a surprise, but I'm pretty good at climbing stuff. I'm pretty well ready."
Thurrios bends down slightly, putting his knee out as a step, and interlacing his fingers as a slightly higher step. He turns towards Sarala, "well, get to climbing and jumping!"
When Zastoran does not speak up right away upon Sarala's mention of curatives, Almah gives him a pointed look.
"I know, I know," he says exasperatedly, waving off some unsaid remarks. Reluctant in spite of the gravity of the situation, the old man looks back in the direction of his tent and sighs. "If you think you'll need them, I can lend you some of the potions from my stock. Not too many though!" he adds, even as the merchant princess rolls her eyes. "The village will need some resources to jump start its economy, after all. That is, after you folks liberate it."
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Sarala looks down at Thurrios's kneeling and then looks up at the sky. "Sorry, but the thing is outta here. If you really want, though, I'll still vault off of you. 'cause I bet I can get some serious height by doing that."
She nods towards Zastoran and says, "Yeah, I understand, I don't want to put you out too much or anything, but not getting dead is pretty high on my priority list."
"Well if chatty-man Julius' uses his stick" She points at Sarala, Julius & herself; "for spirit armour, then more healing magic." The cowled figure is still slightly apprehensive how he's bound the spirits into a wand to provide Mage Armour.
"So keys, enter Market - kill gnolls & celebrate?! Fire flasks, Me has!" She removes a viscous alchemists fire flask from her pouch. "Need anything else before deliver justice to Gnolls? Heal potions? Invisibility drink?"
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"Heal potions, yeah. I guess we'll take a cure moderate wounds one and a few cure light wounds. I'm not sure on the whole potion economy. Julius, is that a good decision? One moderate and three light? I don't know the difference except 'moderate' is more than 'light'." Sarala makes a bit of a show of shrugging and then says, "But yeah, that magical armour stuff is really helping me out. Doesn't weigh anything, so that's nice."
"Anubis has granted me the ability to heal the wonds of those who deserve it, but potions will still be good in a tight bind, or if battle overwhelms me"
Zastoran hurries back to his tent to retrieve potions of the requested types.
Meanwhile, Garavel directs the mercenaries and red-armored guardsmen around the cathedral, making preparations for a likely gnoll attack.
Almah and the others all wish you luck, knowing full well how dangerous your mission is.
“I shall await news of your success,” the merchant princess says with a smile, before adding more somberly, “But should you find yourself overtaken by the enemy, do not hesitate to retreat. We will make our last stand together, if we must.”
With that, your party departs from the monastery, for perhaps the final time.
After traversing the pesh field, your party takes the southern route into Kelmarane, passing by the old slave market in the process. Oddly enough, the village seems empty, devoid of any patrols or vanguards. You are able to ascend to the upper tier of the village without opposition, soon reaching the spot where you first met Ruika and slew the schir demon. Any evidence that the encounter ever occurred seems to have been removed since then. You continue onward, moving past the maze of ruined buildings the orc witch had hid among, before finally reaching the top of the hill.
Of interest is a mansion that is even larger, more luxurious, and in better shape than the one by the wharf. A large pair of heavy wooden doors serves as the main entrance, a contrast to the many doorless buildings within the village; more unusually, the doors are locked.
The battle market looms above everything else, the true size and scope of its dome readily apparent from up close.
Thurrios asks, "what do you think folks?"
"So that is the route that nimble, slender, and attractive Vanarans would prefer?"
"Narkû would go the northern route also. Give them a big surprise to see Narkû come in from that side." he says with a toothy grin.
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Sarala answers Thurrios, "I think this is the route that a sneaky, clever and attractive Vanara would prefer."
"I might go on a little ahead and gesture you guys forward, if you don't mind. Gotta make sure I've got some good help on my tail watching out for me, you know?" says Sarala, getting the keys, winking and then getting down to move towards the norther entrance.
"Infiltrationing? That when you get bits of reagents out of potions you brew?" Ruika says completely oblivious to the need for silence and stealth in their approach to the building. Although the cloaked slight figure does walk with a soft step used to the desert and the shifting ground.
"I am not suited for infiltration or stealth. Bu i will be there when you need me"