Azhar makes it through the other side of the large group of devils. The lemures, while aware of his presence, just don't have the brains to feel fear.
The bearded devils, however, do pull up on their mount's reins. Successfully halting their advance.
Zsz - confident that the fires have died down and will not spread - flies back. Her spells laying down swaths of devastation.
Far off, closer to the heart of Westcrown, comes the blast of horns - a dottari mustering signal. Closer, walking up the middle of the street, towards the group of beset allies is a woman in heavy armor, a metal mask covering the upper part of her face, a smile on her deeply red lips and blond hair streaming down her back. Her stride utterly confident and the crack of her whip drawing attention.
A worried weight drops from Crosael's shoulders when she sees Cassian exit the Arodannama safely.
Then she has to get back to the fighting.
"Gravlax, help our friends take care of the infernal garbage harassing them, then join me when you can. I'll try to staunch the flow into the city." then adds, "Don't take too long."
"Don't feel that you need to save one for me," Gravlax replies, turning toward the devils on hellcats.
He mutters a word under his breath,
smiles a grim smile, and heads in, announcing his presence.
"You would attack my city? "
in him clearly fighting to get out.
Azhar's strokes mow down all before him like wheat before a scythe. No more will get through this corridor as long as he stands. His eyes fall on the bearded devils. In a matter of moments they will fall along with their army. He continues his inexorable advance.
Assumes sneak attack, no flank.
plus 2 STR.
plus 2 STR.
plus 2 STR.
plus 2 STR.
As Azhar goes to work, striking down as many of the devils as he can before they have a chance to scurry (in the case of the lemures at least) into Wiscrani homes.
Zsz's spells flash fry devil and Drovenge defender alike, leaving a few devil bodies, a number of human ones, and a few devils who teleported to safety once they realized how much damage they were taking.
A number of the devils break off from their seige of your allies, giving Fiosa the chance to heal a number of festering wounds caused by the evil of the bearded devil's glaives. The devils and their infernal mounts find their weaponry stymied by Gravlax's solid armor.
Cassian disappears, ghostlike, past the mounted devils to intercept the woman coming up Aroden's Rise. Cassian steps from the blonde's shadow and tears into her. His blades flash, cutting into her, taking away every semblance of the illusion that she had been maintaining. The swords swipe through ghostly, incorporeal flesh, only damaging her slightly.
The woman's voice carries power even with the ethereal quality. Magic crackles around her hands as her lips pull back with a snarl. "All your fault."
The woman's voice carries power even with the ethereal quality. Magic crackles around her hands as her lips pull back with a snarl. "All your fault."
"Ha!" Gravlax says, not really pausing in his attacks, voice carrying as far as he can project it. "I should ."
"I get that a lot," Cassian says, keeping up his grim work.
He takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly.
"I think that's pretty well measured," he says. "We do make a good team."
The woman starts to chant in infernal. Stepping back ever so slightly from Cassian's blades as she does so. Seconds later, three green, fiendishly barbed deinonychuses phase into existence surrounding Cassian, flanking him.
Tarvi and Crosael, noticing, start to move towards him. However, when the infernal pack dinosaurs snap forward, their incorporeal bodies pass harmlessly through the rogue.
The ghost-woman's jaw tightens, fury at the ineffectiveness of her magic writ in each muscle.
"Cute trick," Cassian says with an arrogant smirk. "Let me show you one of mine. Well, same one, but it's pretty good." He keeps advancing and attacking, never letting the spellcaster get any room to operate. Meanwhile, Rygel reaches into the handy haversack and removes another wand, which he then attempts to use on his buddy.
Rygel UMD:
Azhar looks up from his gruesome work. All of the bearded devils that were once in his alley are gone - either putrifying piles of meat that steam as the quickly decompose or teleported away when they realized that something in the plan had changed.
Gravlax, especially when boosted by the magics of the group of women who held the line against the infernal forces, starts to hack through the devils and their cursed glaives.
Zsz looks below to find all that is left moving is a few burned or fried humans, mewling in pain.
More of the woman's insubstantial body falls to Cassian's quick swordplay. Suddenly the angry tension snaps, disappears. Her neck and jaw smooth, the bright red lips parting slightly.
A smile. "I like your trick."
"I think I'll take it."
Her body suddenly warps, at once both where she was and almost merged with Cassian's body.
And the woman disappears into Cassian's body. Immediately Cassian's posture changes, just a bit. His grip on his ever present weapons is less sure, almost tentative. And then he smiles, a very not-Cassian smile.
Azhar had just finished stretching his neck and shoulders, turned from the carnage and begun to walk back towards the others when he took in what he had expected to be a typical slice-&-dice Cassian blender fest. Apparently not this time. His eyes widen slightly and he draws in a breath, then lets it out in a "Ah, hell." before quickening his pace to intercept the Cassian/not-Cassian. ("Uh, guys? We might have a problem.") he broadcast messages to all in the area. ("Anyone got any ideas to free Cassian besides beating him into submission?")
("Um. Not sure. Most of my best tricks along those lines won't work on the undead. Also, I give at least even odds that Cassian would kill me when he recovered if I tried them.")
("Does anyone have the faintest idea who that dead woman is, by the way? 'Ara Verennie'? Ring any bells?")
("If beating Cassian into submission needs to be done, that should fall to me.)" Gravlax sounds more regretful over this prospect than he would have sounded a few months ago.
("Somebody should warn Rygel. Or solicit input.)"
"...and it should probably be me."
While the name doesn't quite ring a bell, her armor espcially the elaborate solid face mask is familiar. The armor would indicate a modern order of the rack, the mask would indicate a signifier sect which is solely for spellcasters.
The order of the rack's base in Westcrown, House Tannick, had been on lock down mode ever since the captain of the dottari was killed in the wharf riots a few weeks ago.
("If beating Cassian into submission needs to be done, that should fall to me.)" Gravlax sounds more regretful over this prospect than he would have sounded a few months ago.
("Somebody should warn Rygel. Or solicit input.)"
"...and it should probably be me."
("I think Cassian would prefer to be beaten by more than one person." Azhar grins, could it be that he actually would enjoy the prospect of doing so? "Though admittedly, I could use some healing.")
Glancing over at the girls, and noticing that Amaya and the others seem to have the situation fairly well in hand and are likely out of immediate mortal danger, Azhar takes another potion.
"I'm sure I can take a hit or two."
Slippery Mind save:
Mathalen glances over her shoulder at Cassian, just the tad of a wince. "If you have to, I'll help you Grav. I've fought with him enough to know his style."
Amaya takes a quick step back, so as to concentration on her spellcasting. After a hopeful look, she shakes her head. "Nope. That didn't work."
Tarvi, worry clear, "Cass out of it." Her faith in her brother not yet paying dividends.
Crosael moves past the minor devils, not seeming to care when a number of their slams hit, until she is standing just ten feet in front of Cassian. "You are stronger than this," a smile just under the surface as she casts. "And there is no way that you will let the figment of what was once a person control you."
Gravlax continues his messaged conversation with Azhar.
("...if you're sure....")
("Either way, you should face him/her and I'll continue carving up these devils ... or we trade off. I do not want to let Possessed Cassian slip behind me.")
Gravlax frowns as hellcat gore splashes up onto his black armor.
Cassian brings the blades up, ready, apparently, to fillet Crosael. At the last moment, he seems to shimmer in the air, and it is as though his shadow is detaching from his body. But it's not his shadow, it's the ghost. And then Cassian himself seems to vanish, literally sneaking away from a possessing entity.
He steps from Crosael's shadow and spins his blades in his hands. "Not stronger than this, just too godsdamned sneaky for the likes of her."
"I'm back, Tadpole," he says to his sister, shooting her a reassuring smile.
"You want to trade off?" Gravlax calls over to Cassian. "My kitties for your blonde?"
Amaya takes a quick step back, so as to concentration on her spellcasting. After a hopeful look, she shakes her head. *"Nope. That didn't work."*
"Nope, but good try." Azhar says without really knowing what was attempted, but assuming it must have been some sort of magic.
"Good to have you back, Cassian." Azhar grins, " though was almost looking forward to testing your mettle. Not this time, I guess."
He steps forward and tests whether his partially ethereal state helps in dispatching the ghosty.
"You want to trade off?" Gravlax calls over to Cassian. "My kitties for your blonde?"
"She's all yours, Birdman. Give her something to remember me by."
Cassian concentrates, and suddenly he and Gravlax have switched places.
"Nice." Azhar comments, simply.
"Neat trick," Gravlax says, and takes his turn to attack the blonde woman. "Fair warning. If you possess me, my girlfriend will make both of us regret it."
The ghost woman continues to stare at Gravlax, as if she still sees Cassian there. The glow around her hands solidifies into rays of fire shooting into the fighter. "That body is mine now."
The rays of fire slam into Gravlax, bypassing his armor, burning him.
Gravlax nods, as if some long-running question had been answered.
He attacks with his black blade. "Get out of my city and stay out," he says, focusing his attacks on a point on her torso behind the source of the flame.
More of the woman's body shreds into the air, leaving nothing but a voice in the wind - a scream of frustrated anger.
In the area the devils have either been killed or have fled. Deeper down into the city, the dottari (many terrified) are being ably commanded by a man who looks a bit young for the job.
Cassian points to the commanders. "I'm going to have a talk with the Mhartis over there and see if we can't work things out. Crosael? Tarvi? Can you come along?"
Regardless of their answers, Cassian will approach Ganefini.
More of the woman's body shreds into the air, leaving nothing but a voice in the wind - a scream of frustrated anger.
Azhar frowns. "Unless we figure out and resolve the why of her being a ghost, she will return." he turns to the others, "Zsz? I think you said her name was Ara Verennie? Anyone know anything else?"
Amaya goes over to Azhar and hugs the big man. Which he can barely feel through the armor - but the intent is clear.
Janiven and, after a moment, Khazrae join in the devil clean-up being performed by the city guard.
Mathalen moves next to Gravlax whispering.
Tarvi takes a moment to look around to make sure that she isn't needed for a moment before running to catch up.
The trio is almost upon the older gentlemen before the busy man realizes that they are focused on him. Before Cassian has a chance to say something, Ghanefini motions them to a narrow alley where they won't be as obvious but they can still keep some attention on the ongoing chaos.
She smiles at Zsz, her attention focused solely on the dark-skinned half-elf, "Guess I'll have to find amusement elsewhere."
Amaya goes over to Azhar and hugs the big man. Which he can barely feel through the armor - but the intent is clear.
Azhar's jovar descends until the tip rests on the ground. One arm wraps around her.
Azhar frowns. "Unless we figure out and resolve the why of her being a ghost, she will return." he turns to the others, "Zsz? I think you said her name was Ara Verennie? Anyone know anything else?"
("I believe the Hell Knights kept a house formerly belonging to a family that tried to take over the City. Shall we check that out?")
Cassian will go into the alley with the strange man. And not for the last time.
"Zsz? I think you said her name was Ara Verennie? Anyone know anything else?"
"I also caught her name when she was speaking in Infernal, but I don't know more," Gravlax says. "I can find out, but my records are half the city away."
Gravlax whispers back to Mathalen.
"I have more potions, who all is injured?"
...to that end, Gravlax pulls out and downs a Cure Serious Wounds potion, following it with a Cure Light Wounds .
"Make sure you have a reserve first in case someone really needs it." Azhar remarks blithely, "I'm almost at 45%."
Gravlax gives Azhar a look. "If you go down, we're all toast, big guy. You know you're Cassian's favorite flanker."
"And we don't know what we need to do between now and Navy."
Azhar shrugs, "All right. Let me see what we got left."
He takes two of the csw and two of the cmw,
rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck and sighs contentedly. "That hit the spot." his eyes go up and to the left as he takes an internal inventory, "Just about 80% now. That should do it. Thank you, Gravlax."
Overall, everyone looks tired and a little injured. Some, like Fiosa, seem exhausted. In fact, after squeezing Gravlax's hand, Mathalen moves back over next to the brunette halfling, supporting her without really appearing to do so.
"I hope that means that whatever lit the fuse is taken care of?"
He raises one hand just a bit, "Don't misunderstand me. Vourne is a bastard, but from every interaction I've had with him since he was stationed here as a minor officer on a ship would lead me to trust in his absolute loyalty to the Thrune throne."
"He is proud and I'd think he would consider the move from General of the Chelish navy to protectorate of a" a pause, "how did he word it last year, a deficient backwater which clings to the memory of a dead god a step down."
Azhar pulls Amaya closer, looks around assessing the situation, then gazes down into her upturned face.
Amaya hugs the big swordsman, smiles up at him. "Yes. But I think at least a week's worth of sleep first."
A pause and a small laugh, "Not that you need my help to kill someone."
Out of the corner of Cassian's eye, the quick witted rogue catches sight of invisible movement coming over the top of the roof. Perhaps politely the tiny creature shimmers into visibility about 20-feet overhead, a rolled scroll clutched in its left claw.
"I do the killing, you keep people from killing each other. Let's play to our strengths."
It then flaps up and disappears. (Unless Cassian kills it before it has the chance...)
Once Cassian indicates the invisible creature is really gone, the old man unrolls the scroll cautiously. He reads quickly through, a bitter smile thinning his lips. "Well, he wants to meet you."
He hands the scroll over, "Or more properly, he wants a meeting with the heads of all houses and would like us to bring along 'any interested parties that may have insight into the chaos that has been disrupting the city.'"
"He probably has a missive going to each house."
He colors a moment, and hands her a ring. "I... uh... I got you this. It might help with all of that." And then his amulet. "Also this. It's unrelated."
Cassian returns from the alley with Tarvi and Crosael, speaking to them both. After a moment, he blushes and hands a ring and an amulet to the tiefling.
"If necessary, I'll help you kill him. But if he's just interested in maintaining status quo and bureaucracy, then I'm afraid he's an ally. I don't want Her Imperial Majestrix sending any more military detachments to Westcrown to investigate goings-on."