Where did that little fellow get off to?"
"Spider no longer a threat," Belgood says from the paladin's immediate right. "Whatever feasts on its innards yet lives. No egress other than the one, no hiding place."
"My name is Rashak, lady, and I am scarcely worth calling a warrior. Regrettably, I did not prepare a spell to dispel the darkness, as my eyes are well adapted to it anyway. Perhaps if someone else that has mastered the arts of magic..."
"What's eating the spider, pray, sir? If we have to pass it we'd better know what it is."
"What's eating the spider, pray, sir?"
"Don't know. Didn't think cutting open the spider a good plan. Probably demon-wasp-things. Or worse. Anyone bring fire?"
Ellena closes her eyes and fumes at her lack of thinking ahead to bring even flint or steel to light her torch. "I've got a torch, but apparently I have no way to light it," Ellena said glumly. "Don't disturb the corpse. Nothing good could come from that!"
"My name is Rashak, lady, and I am scarcely worth calling a warrior."
"Hah - I am scarcely a lady, Rashak, but thank you. Well met. Bububelgood, do you think we can get by the spider corpse while the creatures dine within? Can either of you venture a guess as to where we are?"
The merchant snorts loudly. "I'm beginning to think you aren't cultists after all," he says. "Even cultists wouldn't be this incompetent." He begins feeling his way along the rocks in the direction of your group.
"If we are performing introductions, my name is Aravashnial," the elf says. His voice is tight with strain, and the pain of his injuries is clearly affecting him.
"My name," says the injured woman, "is Anevia Tirabade." She continues to wait patiently while Lyddy works on the splint.
"I will attempt the light again," the elf says. "If there is a brief flash, then the magic is working properly and we can likely conclude there is no mystical impediment to illumination." He murmurs the same phrase as he did before, and the cavern is once again briefly visible to all of you.
,
Sense Motive
Heal
"I saw the flash of light again. Apparently your magics are working properly, sir. Does anyone else have magical light ability, or a simple flint and steel," Ellena says with a smile creeping across her face, knowing that there is no magical reason she cannot see.
The paladin was too distracted by her investigations to figure out anything else about the others.
"Aravashnial. Anevia. Would that we had met under better circumstances. My name is Lydia Bentsen, but generally called Lyddy."
To the merchant, she adds, "I made no claim to being a cultist. What sort of cultists were you expecting to be thrown into this cavern with you?"
She stops working on the splint for a moment and leans toward the lady paladin. "Ellena, a thought." Leaning in, she whispers.
She returns to her efforts on the splint.
Lyddy
Ellena gathers herself and searches her senses, scanning the area around them for any hint of evil taint in the souls of the others.
"Excuse me, ms Lyddy. Our friend Aravashnial is in bad shape here and could use your attentions. Could you do anything for him, please?"
"Regrettably I have no magical fire, only this mundane flask for an emergency. But since we'll probably have to pass whatever is in that spider, I have some defensive magic for anyone that cares to take the lead. I must confess to being somewhat out of my element and ill prepared."
"A moment, Avevia, while I look to Aravashnial's burns."
"Aravashnial, I'm afraid there is nothing I can to for your eyes. The goddess has not granted me that gift. Let me see what else I can do until we can get you to a more powerful priest."
The damage is obvious, so she will attempt to heal him somewhat before examining the damage more closely.
"Any effort to travel will require someone to aid each of the injured. Bububelgood would be hard pressed and his scouting is valuable. The three of us have our weapons, but only two of us can see. Sir Merchant, have you resolved to travel with us or abandon us?"
"Aravashnial?" spits the merchant. "Oh, for the love of - fools and lunatics indeed! I'd offer my sympathies on your eyesight, you self-righteous madman, but we both know you see whatever it is you want to see regardless of what's in front of you. I imagine blindness will just make that easier for you."
"Who... who are you?" Aravashnial asks, sounding confused.
"Horgus Gwerm, you paranoid ass," the merchant replies, "and don't think I've forgotten your treatment of me. Or Tirabade's, for that matter - stolen anything from your betters recently, thief?"
Aravashnial hesitates for a moment, apparently taken aback by Gwerm's outburst, and Anevia answers into the breach, "I've never taken anything from you, Horgus. In fact, I've left you with more than you deserve."
"Wait... you said Tirabade?" Aravashnial suddenly speaks up, turning toward Anevia. "You are Irabeth Tirabade's wife?"
"...Yes," Anevia answers slowly, sounding cautious.
Aravashnial sneers, "I see. Your wife has caused me no end of difficulties, Tirabade. If Master Gwerm's insinuations are correct, I'd say taking things of value is a habit both the women of your household share."
"And you would know much about insinuations, would you not?" Gwerm snaps at Aravashnial before Avenia can even answer.
None of them seem to pay attention to Lyddy's question in the midst of their own squabbling.
Muttering to herself, "So much for seeing if he would assist in evacuating the wounded."
"Regrettably I have no magical fire, only this mundane flask for an emergency."
"Have flint and steel. Have torches. Will light, if desired. Demon wasps will see it."
Belgood moves to where Lydia kneels over the wounded woman, and looks her right in the eyes.
"Just Belgood. Or Penitent Belgood, but only with lashes."
"Bebebelgood, is it? You can apparently see the situation as it is. Are there demon wasps present? If so, trust me, you will need my sword, I'd imagine. If they are not present, and its only your fear talking, don't worry, as the benefit of Iomedae's sword and shield outweigh any small tactical disadvantage of us shining a light."
Ellena turns to the three squabbling behind her. "You three need to calm down. Obviously you all have some history. We will deal with it, and once I can see, I will not rest until we deliver all of you to your homes. For now however, I need your cooperation so that we might figure out what exactly has happened and how we can extricate ourselves from this situation."
Diplomacy
"But I thought..." She nods in realization. "I see. My apologies. Belgood. Just Belgood. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Looking up from where she's working, she addresses the three squabblers. "It appears we have both a blessing and a curse in that you know each other. Hopefully your voices have not attracted attention we can ill-afford. I hope you understand when I ask if you can put your differences aside for the time being. Regardless of your personal feelings, our collective survival likely depends on our working together. All of us. I am hopeful that once we have this broken leg splinted, we will be able to move before something unpleasant finds us here."
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"Right. Explain to Iomedae's chosen. Light or not?"
Belgood reaches into his pack and wedges a torch into the ground at the edge of the group, then rearranges his cloak so that the hood offers better concealment while awaiting an answer.
"I am one of Iomedae's chosen." With a wry smile, "She chose me for a path other than paladinhood. The healing I offer and the sword I carry are gifts from The Inheritor, unasked for. When I finish the splint and we can get Anevia on her feet, light the torch, please. I should be done shortly."
"Any idea what's on the other side of the exit you saw? Any sign of threats other than whatever consumes the spider carcass?"
"I am one of Iomedae's chosen ... done shortly."
"Meant that one," Belgood clarifies, indicating the actual paladin. "You've given the wrong name. She will hear correction better from you."
"Any idea what's on the other side of the exit you saw? Any sign of threats other than whatever consumes the spider carcass?"
"Couldn't get close enough without alerting demon maggots to intruders. Probably best to set the shell aflame from here. Probably.
Will take a moment to adjust to the light. Could be tricky."
"Set it aflame from here? What do you have in mind? Light the torch and throw it into the spider body?"
Upon hearing Ellena and Lyddy's words, Gwerm, Anevia and Aravashnial all subside, with the latter two even having the grace to look somewhat abashed. A few moments later, Lyddy finishes with the splint, and she is able to carefully help the woman to her feet. "With a light," Anevia says, "I think Aravashnial and I could help each other out. He's got working legs, I've got working eyes - when you're ready to start moving, we'll take the rear and between us probably do all right."
"A sound plan," Aravashnial nods. "I assume we will encounter threats of a physical and violent nature at some point; those of you with martial training and no significant injuries should occupy the van. Horgus... Master Gwerm... I know well enough that you are no warrior, but perhaps you would consent to carrying the light source, so as to free up the hands of the others while we travel?" Gwerm grunts, which is likely to be as much agreement as you are going to get.
"Set it aflame from here? What do you have in mind? Light the torch and throw it into the spider body?"
Belgood shrugs.
"Assumed one of you would call down holy fire. Surprised you haven't."
The woman chuckles, "If I was gifted thusly, I would not have spent all this time splint her leg, I would have used a prayer to bear her aloft. I am only a holy terror in training, I'm afraid." More quiet chuckles.
A little louder, she says, "We have a plan, it appears. Rashak, if you would follow Ellena and I while the wounded and light bearer follow you, we will follow our able scout."
Drawing Ellena and Belgood closer, she says quietly, "I have another light source, but u can only use it once a day and dare not use it sooner than I must. Belgood, if you can keep a pace that allows me to follow about 25' behind you, I will guide Ellena. When light is necessary for her to fight, I will ignite my sword. My eyesight is poor. I can see in the dark, but I cannot see far in any light."
"Or if Ellena prefers, she can walk with the torchbearer and rush forward when need is great. That would probably put you more at ease, holy one."
"To be honest, I am more comfortable with a light being present. If I walk 10' or so ahead of the person holding the torch, I should be able to see well enough to get my way along. The curse of being human, I suppose," the Paladin notes, wondering how the other human is able to see in the vast darkness.
Nodding, "If we get into a fight up here, I will provide light and you will be able to come aid us. Rashak, if you will walk with me, your nightvision is assuredly better than mine." Lyddy readies her shield and draws her longsword, then nods to Belgood. "Let us see where this exit leads, eh?"
Ellena waits for the lineup to begin once the torch is lit. She is taken aback to actually see the motley gathering she has been grouped with. At seeing the half orc and the part demon, she again focuses her abilities checking for evil. Once she is convinced that somehow these strange creatures weren't evil, she will proceed behind the others.
As you light your torch, the shadowy cavern flickers into existence and color all around. In the red-yellow glow of the flame, the scope of the devastation becomes visible: bloodstains and viscera cover the nearby rubble from which body parts extrude, crushed beneath unknowable amounts of rock. On the cavern's far side, the crouching outline of the dead spider still sits, as though awaiting your arrival.
The torchlight reveals a few things that simple darkvision did not, however. Most notably, the glint of something shining and silver on the floor near the rubble pile. A closer look reveals that there are four of the shiny bits: flat, mostly-round and about as big as a large human's palm. Rashak immediately recognizes them as "...dragon scales. Silver dragon scales." The information is enough to finally clear away the cobwebs in your memories...
There is a murmur in the crowd - in the distance, a flare of trumpets announces the approach of the first of the many Orders participating in the day's festivities. Marching up the wide colonnade that connects the Cathedral of St Clydwell to the main square opposite it, the marching paladins are splendid in their polished armor and perfect ranks, each squad lead by a mounted leader dressed in his or her finest and most extravagant mail.
At the bottom of the stairs, the crowd has parted, and the parade of paladins has come to a crisp, perfect rest before the cathedral. Prelate Hulrun raises his hand in benediction and opens his mouth to speak. Before he can do so, though, a bright light flares from the west, as if the sun were rising from the wrong direction. Hulrun’s shadow falls huge and distorted across the cathedral’s facade. A moment later, the sound of a thunderous explosion rips through the air and earth, along with a violent tremor.
To the west, the fortress known as the Kite — the location of Kenabres’s wardstone — has simply vanished. In its place, a brilliant plume of red fire, lightning, and smoke erupts into the heavens.
A moment later, a powerful roar accompanies a welcome sight rising from the crowd: Kenabres’s greatest guardian, the ancient silver dragon Terendelev, who had until that moment been attending the opening ceremony disguised as a human. Above, another form appears, as nightmarish as the dragon was breathtaking. A humanoid shape three times the size of any man, with skin coated in fire and lightning, grips a flaming sword and whip. The creature’s identity is immediately obvious: Khorramzadeh, the infamous and terrifying balor known as the Storm King of the Worldwound, has come to Kenabres!
As the ground continues to shake and disgorge demons into the streets, the dragon and the balor lord clash above. A nearby statue collapses toward you; Lyddy rushes forward, protecting some of the nearby crowd from the debris with her shield, while Ellena shouts a war cry and hacks into a laughing quasit as it crawls up from the earth. Alas, the aerial battle is over in a few harrowing moments, as the balor cuts deep into Terendelev’s body, swooping down to strike the dragon and arresting her charge. A few more blows, and the titanic duo spirals downward toward the crowd.
The sight of the dragon smashing into the facade of the Cathedral of St. Clydwell is one no witness would ever forget. At that moment, a titanic demon erupts at the far end of the plaza, reducing several buildings to ruins as it smashes into this world. The rift it creates shoots across the plaza, and this time there is no escape — it opens below your feet, angling away into darkness.
Even as you fall, the dragon notices your plight. Though she sees death standing over her, she seizes this final chance to save a few more souls. As she utters a few arcane words and stretches out a bleeding talon, you feel her magic take hold of you, slowing your plummet into the darkness as if you were feathers falling into a pit. Yet the fall remains inexorable, and as you drifts downward into the depths, the last thing you see is the Storm King standing before the ancient silver dragon, his sword lashing out and cleaving full through her neck. As her severed head falls, the rift above you slams shut, and the light of the world above is gone.
Ellena is near tears as her memories come back in a flash. She picks up a gleaming silver scale and holds it close. I will keep this in your honor, brave Terendelev!
"Our city's greatest champion sacrificed herself to save us. We must not forget this gift she has given us, and have to honor her." Steeling herself, Ellena's face again becomes its hard mask. "We have to get ot of here and help save the city from the demons' attack!"
The memory causes Lyddy to shudder. She bows her head, eyes closed, and relives it as best she can, burning every detail into her mind. She kneels down by the scales, picking the rest of them up and looking at them in turn. She moves to stow them on her person unless someone else indicates they would like one.
In the light of the torch, something else is evident when she looks at the others. The iris of each of her eyes is huge and dark, similar to that of an elf, but there is still an edge of white visible around it. Each iris is heavily obscured by a cloudy white film. When she sees Anevia staring at her eyes, she responds to the unasked question, "My eyes are not a result of the attack. This is part of Iomedae's gift to me, the reason I have some healing ability. It is more than a fair trade."
With a deep breath and another look around at what the torchlight has revealed, she asks, "Shall we go?"
As Ellena picks up the scale, she is shocked as a sense of majesty and power that flows through her from the scale. Without quite knowing where the knowledge comes from, she is suddenly aware that the scale she holds has power: the power to protect its bearer from cold and lightning.
Ellena lets out a breath as the magic of the scale reveals it to her. "Lyddy, these scales are something else. Extremely powerful and magical," she says as she sees the other female set to scoop up the other scales. "I can actually tell this scale gives me the power to resist cold and electricity damage a few times per day. I've never seen anything like it."
Thank you again for your gift, mighty Terendelev. And thank you for allowing us to find it, Iomedae.
While Ellena and Lyddy collect scales, Anevia gives a small cry of pleasure as she drags a bow and quiver out from beneath the rubble, handling both with a familiarity that suggests they are hers. The cry turns into an oath, however, when she pulls several broken shafts and arrow fragments from the quiver. After a quick assessment, it becomes clear that she only has four arrows whole enough to shoot. "Bloody hells," she swears. "For a second there, I thought I might actually be able to help out."
"Indeed. This one can power a weapon against certain foes. But when I picked up a second, the first went silent. Rashak, hold this one." She hands him the third scale. "What do you feel?"
After a quick assessment, it becomes clear that she only has four arrows whole enough to shoot. "Bloody hells," she swears. "For a second there, I thought I might actually be able to help out."
"Of course you can. Pick your shots carefully and make sure every shaft counts. Is there anything else of use here? That memory makes me suspect it will be a long trip home."
Ellena approaches the one known as Anevia. "I have a quiver of 20 arrows, if you would care to use them. If we encounter trouble, I will be relying on this, for the most part," she smiles as she nods at her greatsword. "If you could support me with archery, I would greatly appreciate it."
Rashak pockets the scale reverently and pensively. The dragon's tragic fate seems to him a reminder of the very tear in reality that is the Worldwound, seemingly determined to repeat itself. His heart swells a little at the thought that he may be assigned a role in healing the world, if only as modest as leading his companions back to safety.
"Is there anything else of use here? That memory makes me suspect it will be a long trip home."
"Can't get caught with this. Probably killed instantly. Not worthy of sacrifice, if killed by fools."
Belgood looks at the scale with a bit less reverence - and a bit more apprehension - than the others, before burying it deep in his pack. Once secure, he searches the area looking for anything that could be useful.
Going then? Want to poke the hive?"
After taking a good look around this end of the cavern, Lyddy and Belgood are reasonably certain they aren't leaving behind anything of value.
Anevia accepts Ellena's arrows gratefully, asking and receiving Aravashnial's cooperation in carrying the extra quiver and its four remaining arrows. The two make an awkward pair, but after some shuffling, they seem ready to proceed.
Carefully, cautiously, the group proceeds across the cavern, toward the exit and the spider's corpse. Belgood slips noiselessly past, but there is no way the rest of you can escape the notice of what's inside, and in fact you do not: once Rashak and Lyddy get within about three paces of the spider, the rippling stomach suddenly bursts outward, and two massive maggots the size of crocodiles tear free of the corpse, mindlessly seeking more flesh on which to feed.
Assuming Anevia takes the quiver, Ellena approaches the fiend, "I am prepared for you to lead the way out of here. Be careful for the safety of these people depend on us." She grabs her sword, brandishing it for the group to see. "If there are bugs, let us try to exterminate them."
"Demon maggots!"
Belgood takes up a position behind a behind a boulder, and draws back his bow.
"Watch your eyes, Rashak! For Iomedae!" Pointing her longsword at the beasts, Lyddy causes the sword to burst into light.
Initiative
Ellena moves forward , swinging her sword at the first maggot, happy with the extra light from Lyddy's sword.
Attack
Damage