As the pulsing starts getting faster, Míril nocks a cold iron arrow just in case.
And Roshan retrieves his chakram.
"Obviously, you are not from Irrisen," Konstantin says archly.
"Nope," Nurah says with a sweet smile, "But there were cold bastards were I'm from too."
She leans towards Nurah. "Fire is always the answer." She says, just as seriously.
"It really is the only way to be sure," the blonde halfling replies.
"Perhaps... stand back, I think," he says. He concentrates, mutters a few arcane words, holding his arms, palms out, straight from his chest. A low thrum echoes through him in a solid wave, and to the roof of the glowing purple cave.
It starts small... A little rumble, a little shake. Just the smallest of cracks through the rock of the ceiling above where the rift pulses.
And then, the world is encompassed by dust, rock and debris as the roof of the small cavern collapses - not ending the purple pulsing rift but obliterating its ability to spill into the material plane.
Then you hear a rubble from the larger cavern above your head.
All of the what are left of the great swarms are converged around a single vescacor, which is hard to see in the writhing mass of bugs, but in a glimpse you see that the thing has grown a pair of forward claws.
Roshan pauses, looking back at the writhing mass of remaining vescacor. A quick glance up, a narrowing of eyes and an intake of half a breath, then cold iron and a blade of Desna sink into the center mass of demonic insects. If he has time, he will hightail it after the others.
Samirah only takes any note of what the insects are doing because Roshan has thrown cold iron into them. Even still...
"Roshan? I'd like to cut them all down as well, but I think the falling rocks will do our work for us."
Radiance flashes back to Roshan's hand the edge of the blade heavy with green-yellow ichor. Chunks of stone start to fall even as people move quickly through the tunnels to the hole where the rope hangs.
Roshan smiles an uncharacteristic almost wicked smile, flicking the green-yellow fluid from his blade and raises ahead back the way they came and races up the rope...drawing it up after himself.
Roshan waits at the edge, ready to give a hand at the top, or to pull up the last person if that would be quicker.
Having already nocked a cold iron arrow, Míril draws and fires it into the center mass of vescacor.
"I don't know exactly what's happening back there, but it looks like the vescacor are merging. The one in the center has grown some forward facing claws it didn't have before," reports Míril as she retreats with the others.
Samirah hesitates after hearing this new information. "Oh, well that explains the pausing to attack." She looks back. "Will the cave in be enough to solve this problem?"
Nurah buffs as she runs on her short legs. "It better, since staying would be a great way to get your head caved in by a falling rock." Despite the small woman's stature, she seems focused on being the first one back to the rope.
Although Roshan quickly gets past her once he starts his own movement.
"And I guess getting one's head caved in is not the stuff of legends!" Samirah says to Nurah's quickly retreating back.
She continues on to the rope.
Konstantin is out working, shirtless like normal, when he gets a strong sense of being watched.
As she's pretty awful at sneaking, it'd be easy to find Samirah if he made any attempt at all to look for her. So it may or may not be a surprise to him when she leaps from the scaffolding she's been climbing around on to land on his back, immediately locking her legs around his waist in case his instinct is to try and throw whatever landed on him.
"Hello, გენაცვალე."
"Only when it unstaves itself!"
Chancre waits at the bottom of the rope. He clearly intends to be the last one up.
At the base of the rope, Konstantin speaks a few words and simply flies up. Though his face is locked in his customary Irrisani glower, the joy in his eyes is plain.
At the base of the newly knotted rope, first Nurah, then Sosiel make slow but steady progress up. Followed by Pan. Anevia waits next to Chancre, not willing to leave the inquisitor alone in the darkness to his own device yet. But once everyone else is up, see shimmys up to the rope with well practiced ease.
Once everyone is back on the surface, you see a number of new holes into the collapsed underground space as the earthquake Konstantin called forth reshaped the landscape. The massive clouds of swarming vescacor are gone, some dead or trapped in the cavern below, many dead with the death cries of the queen, and the remainder scattered to t he winds of the Worldwound. Back near the army, you see a number with wounds from the gnawing, gashing teeth - and a circle of the dead creatures where Aravashnial's shield kept them at bay while you fought their mistress. Overall, the army seems to have weathered the abyssal storm.
Aravashnial, for his part, peppers the group with question about the vescacor queen. On hearing the devouring of the dead body he lapses into quiet thought.
Aron falls back into Sosiel's shadow when the more charismatic man returns with a smile - and bruises from his near fall.
With the bug menace cleared, the army is able to move over Ahari Gorge and a hard ride brings them to a the lee side of a small crest in the rise from the gorge to the fallen city of Drezen...
A dry riverbed makes for easy passage and cover in approaching the city - but the stink of smoke and grime wafts down with the wind. From a hidden crest, you are able to make out the walls of the Citadel Drezen, battered, broken in a few places but still holding strong. Around is a lost city, once a refuge for a human army - now the sty of the demon dregs not taken south to the front line. In the fading light your scouts are able to get a feel for the size of the city, but not much more.
Samirah hesitates after hearing this new information. "Oh, well that explains the pausing to attack." She looks back. "Will the cave in be enough to solve this problem?"
"If it doesn't, we'll have to come back later to deal with it." Míril doesn't look like she's happy at the prospect of returning for more of this, but she also doesn't like to leave messes for others to clean up.
Samirah watches Konstantin bypass the climb with a longing that's easily identifiable as jealousy, though the customary smile still turns her lips upwards.
"As much as I would love to clear that out tonight," she gestures vaguely at Drezen, "I think we could use a rest first." She pauses just for a moment before adding, "but I'm just as happy to scout ahead if there is something we can gain by acting now!" She says this hastily, as though someone might accuse her of being too tired or afraid to act immediately.
She eases the grip of her legs and brushes her lips against his temple. "And I have been watching you work for days now, I can only restrain myself for so long!"
"Rest is good," Chancre says. "Attack from a position of strength. Right, Aron?"
He cocks his head to the side and a grin crosses his face. "oh. Next time we come across a rift, I think I can close it."
"Can you summon rocks along with that spiritual weapon of yours?"
.."Will the cave in be enough to solve this problem?""If it doesn't, we'll have to come back later to deal with it."..
The hint of a smile as a finger is placed alongside his nose.
"As much as I would love to clear that out tonight," she gestures vaguely at Drezen, "I think we could use a rest first."..
..and this time a brief finger point to go along with it.
"Can you summon rocks along with that spiritual weapon of yours?"
"No, but my head is useful in most situations that we might want a rock."
..and this time a brief finger point to go along with it.
In response, she winks.
"No, but my head is useful in most situations that we might want a rock."
"I am no scholar of the abyss, but I feel certain that closing a rift is not included in your 'most situations'." She taps a finger against her lips as she considers. "But perhaps we could tie a rope around you, allow you to use your head on the rift to ask the demons on the other side to close it for you?"
"Rest is good," Chancre says. "Attack from a position of strength. Right, Aron?"
He cocks his head to the side and a grin crosses his face. "oh. Next time we come across a rift, I think I can close it."
Konstantin nods. "Allow the scouts time to do their jobs," he agrees.
...
In the fading light your scouts are able to get a feel for the size of the city, but not much more.
Míril of course takes part in the scouting of Drezen.
"I came out here just to say hello, but..." she leans forward to murmur in his ear, "being this close to you while you work is having an affect on me. How long did you plan on staying out here?"
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As the majority of the army sets up a cold camp, the scouts move into the growing gloom of the evening. A quick discussion amid the scouts goes with small groups or individuals going out so that the lay of the land can be determined in a efficent fashion.
Next to a tent that is being set up for him Aravashnial suddenly stands up and starts to pace back and forth with ill-contained excitement.
Keeping to the shadows, although that will do little good if he runs into demons with their nightvision, it is slightly surprising that most of the squat, study building are still in one piece and solid.
Near one building Roshan could swear that there is movement inside.
In the southern part of the city, Miril needs to take her time as the place is crawling with tieflings.
With visible effort the elf drags himself back to the point, "However, what you witnessed would suggest that the life cycle of the vescacor is far more mutable in comparison to the species of similarity on the Material Plane. That the creatures were driven to devour the dead queen until one of their number metamorphosed into a new brood mother..." He shakes his head.
"More importantly, since the vile creatures can, literally, eat through stone, I must advise a watch over the area of the collapse tonight." Aravashnial nods, decided.
Míril takes her time scouting the dried riverbed and its surroundings. She makes sure of her openings before moving to her next spot of cover.
Buildings that seem to be locked with substantial padlocks and which the tieflings patrol regularly.
"I was following her because she was sneaking around. Do you think maybe that was her plan all along? To sneak around and draw out the suspicious? I have to say ... we're all kind of suspicious right now. That's rather a silly plan. You look a bit high-strung. Do you need something to drink?" It's not so much that Chancre is trying to keep Aron from talking until he's finished, it's more that he isn't really giving the younger man time to respond.
Aron barely takes in Chancre's rapid fire comments and questions, his eyes getting wider as confusion feels them. Finally he just shakes his head.
Swallows. Shakes his head again. "I don't drink."
He looks around the small tent - the sparse gear of two men on the road - the single area for sleeping. "So... Nurah just came in here to give you proxisismis, not because she was meeting..." He shakes his head, "of course not"
"But that's it?"
Samirah blinks for a second, looking a little slow on the uptake before comprehension dawns on her face. She does her best to cover her meat up with the sparse amount of vegetables she sprinkled on her plate. It doesn't really help.
"Of course. I'm just so accustomed to..." she doesn't finish her sentence, but smiles lamely. "My apologies, Corbin."
He blinks at her, amazed confusion coming into his eyes. Blushing, Corbin shakes his head and looks down, "You don't need to apologize for my weakness, Lady Samirah."
.
"Well, I'm glad to hear it. I will say that my impulses, for a long time, were selfish. Now... I have more to live for than myself." She looks the tiefling over as though searching for something. "And what of you? Are you happier now?"[/b]Pan oddly grey eyes look up, catching Samirah's brighter ones, "I don't deserve to be happy." The woamn says simply. "But I know that here I will only be killed if I deserve it. It is a much better place to be."
"He was dead." Her voice is emotionless with the simple fact, then just a slight viber of something comes into, fear and just a hint of pain, "But he wasn't gone." Pan's eyes close to let her more clearly see what is in her own head, "He was on the cusp of never leaving, being bound here by his own pain and anger."
A pause, "If..." she swallows, "I'd seen a few other tieflings with the same eyesight as me. Once the peetaybee found out..." she shudders.
Konstantin frowns. "Who, or what, is peetaybee?"
It is a subtle thing, just the hint of darkening on her dusky skin. "Pee. Tee. Bee. Powers that be."
Her eyes flash up to look at Konstantin's face before going back down to somewhere just over his left shoulder, "The one that determine if you live or die. What you do, if you eat, what others can do with you."
She swallows, looks up to meet his eyes, bare glimpse of a something stronger beneath the beaten down spirit that may have a chance to grow, "What you could have been. Except that you are Vezds instead."
Míril considers the buildings that are locked and patrolled, and weighs her chances of success at sneaking up to one, picking the lock, and having a peek at what's inside. She also considers whether drinking her Potion of Invisibility would be worth the rewards compared to the cost of using it.
Another kiss, and she slides off his back and drops to the ground. "I can keep myself occupied until this evening." And she could do that, but the unspoken "but I'd really rather steal you away right now" is obvious to him, as much a part of her nature as it is her desire to be with him.
"It is a weakness of my own that I spent years doing whatever pleased me without taking into consideration the people I may have hurt or caused discomfort to in the process." She looks more at ease. "Admittedly, it does make my life considerably more difficult to care what others think or feel, but..." she looks a little wistful, "there is something I like about it, too. So, if the smell of meat bothers you, then I would prefer to not flaunt my comfort with it while we dine together. Though, I can't promise to be so careful if you should happen to dine with us as a group."
She grins, then moves on to leave no room for argument:"Is there anything else you need before we leave Kenabres? Anything you are lacking?"
Samirah looks taken aback by Pan's casual comment. "Why don't you deserve happiness? And who can dictate such a thing?" She seems to be struggling with the thought. Perhaps looking into her own past. "Perhaps I would say that the men who captured me as a child do not deserve happiness." She starts to pace a little. "Perhaps it is easy for me to say you deserve happiness because you are atoning and taking responsibility for the things you say you have done."
She stops, looking to Pan again. "Perhaps no one deserves happiness. So I will ask my question differently... will you allow yourself happiness if it should present itself to you?"
The lock isn't bad, persay, but it snicks open in seconds in Miril talented hands. Slipping inside she is able to close the door behind her.
Inside the room is dark, during the day enough light would creep in through cracks and holes to allow Miril's low-light vision to see all, but in the early evening it is pitch black within. Even with that, Miril's other sense pick up ... very little.
The shuffle of feet outside as the tieflings continue in their easy guard of the building, further off shouts and conversation, but inside the building there is only silence other than the quiet beating of Miril's own heart.
"However, I know that knowledge does not make everything better."
A wry smile and a nod.
"I don't think I asked you how the two of you met?"
Irabeth looks a little surprised but it quickly fades, "I don't know why I thought Anevia would have told you."
Irabeth's eyes go a little far off in memory, "After my training at Lastwall, I worked as a mercenary in the River Kingdoms." A pause, "Vagorg, the half-orc who tried to ambush and kill Ane in our home?" Seeing recognition she continues, "He was one of the bounties I brought in during that time."
"I'd gotten notice of a bounty on a tiefling out of Nisroch who had been practicing his skills on people who lived in Tymon. Tracking him down, I finally found him at a ruined tower." Her voice goes dry at this point, deadly quiet, "He and his companions had a new quarry, a woman that he was about to hobble with a bone saw."
No mirth, "I did not do the proper thing and issue an arrest," no shame but a hint of worry at this, "instead I threw myself into the fray."
Looks at Samirah, "Killed each one of them and saved Anevia in the process."
Seeing that her low-light vision isn't enough in this room, Míril silently curses her not bringing a source of light. She makes a mental note to talk to Chancre or Konstantin about that. Maybe one of them can give her a magical light source or something.
Out of desperation more than anything, she slowly draws her Adamantine sword. She's heard tales that some magic sword glow in the dark, and she can't remember testing if hers does or does not.
Miril's sword, not at all a proper sneak-thief's weapon, glows in the dark.
Revealing... a warehouse of martial supplies. This particular warehouse seems filled with longswords. Hundreds of longswords.
Míril makes a quick silent prayer of thanks to Sarenrae that her sword glows, and immediately makes a quick note to herself to make sure it's sheathed from now on when sneaking around, and to bring a backup weapon if she wants to strike from the shadows.
After a quick look at the inventory, she sheaths her sword and creeps out of the building. She re-locks the padlock.Not wanting to push her luck, she decides not to break into every building.
Instead, she looks for a building or structure that she can climb unnoticed and get a quick ballpark figure for the number of tieflings in Drezen.
Konstantin listens to Aravashial's council. "Samirah requires less sleep than any of us. We could post a guard, and have it bolstered by her for the remainder of the night."
When she is about to duck back out the door, Miril hears footsteps approaching. Pausing outside of the door for...
one heartbeat...
two heartbeats...
three heartbeats...
... and then the steps start again, moving away. Allowing Miril to slip out and away.
The order of magnitude of the tiefling army is double hundred.
As Miril is heading back from her scouting mission, she is able to check out the bridge spanning the steep edges of the Ahari dry gulch as it cuts through the remains of the city. While Miril and most of the others in her group would be able to climb the crumbly sides, losing the bridge would present a difficult obstacle to the more heavily armored paladin army.
Before Miril gets to close to the bridge proper, she just barely spots movement on the bridge itself.
A pause, "Would you mind showing me to where the collapse was? I have a some spells that should work to destroy them as they come up until Samirah is ready to take over."
Samirah smiles grimly. "It sounds like you did the right thing, after all." She waits a moment before continuing, "and did she reward her hero with a kiss, then? Or did the courtship take longer than that?"
It sounds like Samirah may be teasing Irabeth, but it's completely without malice, as though she hopes to bolster the other woman's mood.
And, true to her word, that is exactly how he finds her when he enters the room when his work is finished.
"I declined, told her I was going home to Kenabres and that she was welcome to travel with me if she wanted the company. She did, indeed, follow me home."
"She..."
Irabeth shakes her head, "Falling in love was not a sudden thing for either of us."
Corbin smiles back, shy and proud all in the same worshipful gaze, "No, Lady Samirah." A hint of seriousness, "I have more than many, but I'm also working hard so that I can help do good."
The like you is unsaid but audible.
She takes the question, as she does most everything, seriously. "I have done very little to atone for my sins." She says, "I have no plans to shove happiness aside, but I truly doubt it would be on offer in a form I'd find appeasing until I have settled my debts."
"Perhaps I would say that the men who captured me as a child do not deserve happiness."
Barely noticeable at this comment, a flash of teeth between a hopeless smile and a grimace. A little nod that most people wouldn't notice.
"Even in death, they don't want to let anything useful go. If a spirit couldn't be driven into madness and fury..." she swallows. "Do you know what a daemon is, Vezds?"
Míril creeps as close as she can to the bridge while staying out of sight, to see what she can see or hear. It might be worthwhile.
When he returns to the room, tired from his day of work, he breaks into a weary smile at the sight of her, closing the door behind him and leading against it. "I suppose I have been concentrating on rebuilding more than perhaps I should have."