Vallen brings his warhammer down, shattering the skull of the last of the ghouls, and for a moment the beach is quiet, except for the drumming of the rain and the voices of the victors.
A few moments later, Edmund Thayer and several of his soldiers arrive, along with Manari, Sandra and perhaps surprisingly, Balis and Melila. All but Manari are covered with the ghoul's ichor, most are wounded. Melila is chortling happily and carrying a dagger, a bit of gold and ruby red glints through the gore that covers it.
"Gods save us," Edmund says softly. "An ogre too?"
Vallen accidentally knocks the ghoul in its gut and he takes the opportunity to splatter its brains on the sand. Panting, he shouts to the other side of the thicket. "...Everything is fine!"
Looking over to Gair and Kal'tos he runs over to the Kellid, dropping to his knees. Turning the warrior over he notices he is badly wounded, but in no danger of dying today. He's not wearing armor... neither is Kal'tos! Torag, let your light instill some sense into them...
The priest graps his holy symbol and passes his hands over Gair's body. "Rise, Gair... The battle is done."
Once the Paralysis wares off, Kal'Tos calls for all the wounded to gather around him. Once they have he channels for several seconds for health for everyone
Istiel collects herself, picking up her gore-covered longsword from the beach and wiping it down with a cloth. She looks up as Edmund and the others approach. A small smile appears on her lips seeing Manari.
The warrior was covered in blood and ghoul gore while the wizard was pristine as ever. "আমাকে তুলনায় আপনি একটি বসন্ত নাচ জন্য প্রস্তুত চেহারা. সৈকত নিরাপদ? .. তারা কোথায় থেকে আসে?"
Hassan nods to Edmund, his gaze drifting back to the fallen giant, "Indeed. You saw none others? I must say I'm surprised and relieved. Did any of you encounter anything but the damned ghouls?"
He pauses for a moment looking over the others with Thayer, a dark cloud falling over his expression, "...how many did we lose Edmund?"
Consciousness hits Gair like a bucket of cold water as Vallen's magic surges through his body. A strange noise escapes his mouth, his vocal cords still partially in the grip of the ghoul's toxin. Slowly the warrior raises a bloody hand in front of his face. Hand, not paw. A dwarf above me and not a pack mate...
"It seems I am not to die this day...", he says softly. With great effort and a little help from Vallen, Gair hauls himself to his feet. Pushing down the sudden urge to vomit, he collects his axe and heads over to Hassan and the others with Vallen.
A truly terrifying sight, covered head to your in blood, gore and only raggedly healed bite and tear wounds, he gives a big to Newspring's gathered defenders. The kellid looks at the fallen ogre for a moment before raising an eyebrow in a questioning look, "Who?"
Round 7
Cueta kneels as the ogre falls, and draws her axe. Raising it above her head, intending to bring it down on the creature's throat, she notices the collar around its neck. Pausing for a second, she lowers her axe. "Kal'Tos, Vallen, we should save this one, if its name is not already in the dead scrolls. It is a slave, I think, and may have much hatred towards whoever - or whatever - sent him to Lillend Beach."
Getting up, the woman begins tracing the chain back towards the water, and if need be, begins pulling and dragging it out of the surf.
------
When Cueta spies her sister on the beach, everything is forgotten. Running to Melilla, Cueta grabs the woman in a fierce hug, before letting go and running her hands over her sister's body, trying to wipe off the slick gore, taking stock poking and pulling along her Melilla's skin, looking for wounds most grievious. "Sister, what are you doing here? You are no warrior. Rabbits don't bite cats, they run from them. Sister, are you hurt? Don't be hurt, sister!"
Cueta's voice trails off when she notices the dagger, and a shiver crawls over her skin as Melilla laughs. "Rabbit, what did you do? Where did you get this dagger?"
Tomag finally manages to regain control of his body, and hefts himself off the ground. Looking around as everyone starts to check on the wounded, he sighs heavily. "Everlight bless us, it appears that we managed to stop them all. Good," he says, though exhaustion and the paralysis still fading prevent him from smiling as normal.
When Edmund and the others arrive, Tomag is clearly very interested in the answer to Hassan's question, his brows knotting tightly as he waits for its answer.
Round 7
Sorala continues to work her way through her paralysis, convinced she's wiggling her fingers. She hears yells of triumph, and then listens intently to Cueta's words.
Round 8
With a gasp and a sob, Sorala drops her club. Looking over to Istiel, she sees the elf sitting up, alive, and tended to by others. Turning and looking at the ogre, she gets up and staggers over to it. "I speak the tongue of giants."
Round 9
The young woman checks for a pulse on the ogre. Not entirely sure of the creature's physiology, she move methodically.
Round 10
She attempts to stabilize the creature, if it can be done.
Vallen helps the Kellid up, grunting as he hauls the mass of human muscle from the ground. Helping him over to Kal'tos' healing, the priest's eyebrows nearly rocket to the night sky at Cueta's suggestion. "Absolutely not! Ogres are foul creatures, and hated enemies of dwarves. It happily tried to kill us."
He waves Sorala away from the ogre. "No no no, just let the thing die! Are you crazy? It's a monster. We tried to capture some kuru once..." The dwarf shudders. "I will never repeat that mistake."
He does look at the iron of the collar, and the ogre's tusks, plugging his nose from the stench. "If this iron is workable... this ogre is a gift from Torag."
Cueta strains at the chain. "And so are goblins, right? Hated enemies of dwarves? Unless they aren't. And dwarves are not hated enemies of dwarves, unless they are, yes? Up is down and east is west. I don't care if we kill it later, but it was working with these creatures from the dead scrolls, which means we have bigger problems than ogres. If there is information is to be had, we shouldn't pass up the chance to get it."
"And just because something didn't work once, you'll never try it again? That seems..." Cueta wrestles with what word to use next. Stunted? Incurious? Insane? "It seems irresponsible, given our dire situation."
Hassan looks away from Edmund briefly to answer Gair's query, "Near all of us I should think. There was bravery enough from these here even to satisfy you Hearthseeker."
He turns to Cueta, annoyance growing at all the interruptions to Edmund's answer, "You want to wake this monster back up? I doubt it still draws breath. It will never walk again either way, which is well. If Tharn can coax life from it, you will make sure to bind it well before doing anything else."
Gair regards the ogre for a moment longer before shrugging and turning his attention to the discussion of its future, "Knowledge of your enemy is never something to turn down Vallen. Sorala has measured the words of Blaidd's people, she might do the same again with this one. I say we try if it still lives."
Cueta stops pulling at the chain, letting it drop to her feet. Turning to Hassan, she considers his response to Gair's question. "You brought it down. Saw an opening and sliced it through the spine, like a ship's surgeon if I've ever seen one. You know, some Mwangis, they hunt the great elephants of Garund - or so I hear. I grew up in a fishing village. I hear they also treat the elephants as sacred animals, so they don't kill them. They fell the beasts with poison, putting them into a great, deep sleep, and then they take the elephant's tusks." Cueta waves her hand at the ogre. "Even if it lives you should take this one's tusks. Make a horn out of one of them. A horn for a general. I have some carpenter's tools at Newspring - you're welcome to them."
The Mwangi stoops down and picks up the chain again, and digging her feet into the sandy beach, starts walking it out of the surf. "And aye, I want to wake it up. But not before I take this gigantic chain and tie it to the largest f@~&ing tree I can find."
Vallen reaches his hands up to his head, claspsing the sides of his skull in exasperation. "You're both insane! This thing will kill and eat all of us given the chance! It's nothing like the hobgoblins- they gave us food. They brought us to their home and wanted to be allies. So you want to save it and then torture it by cutting off its tusks? Madness." He huffs, looking over to Kal'tos for some backup.
He points at the dying giant. "That thing immediately tried to kill us, and would turn you into a stew given the chance. Just like the kuru."
Cueta shrugs and waggles her head. "If it is like an elephant, I don't think it will feel a thing but shame if we take its tusks. And it needs to know that we are its master, because you're probably right - it would turn us into stew. I'm not even saying we let it live, necessarily. But, these things have larger teeth than brains, correct? If - if - it knows anything of use to us, it should be easy enough to get it talking. I think you're right, though. If it is even alive, we should not take its tusks until after it talks."
"Even if this beast isn't going to try to kill us on sight, we cannot feed a ogre, right now we can barely feed the people we have. Perhaps we can keep it alive long enough to question it, but no more."
Vallen groans at Kal'tos' response. "You know ogres are stupid beasts Kal'tos. We may get a name at most. Then what? Let us end its misery and be done with this."
He looks over at Gair, gesturing to the ground. "Before we mess up the tracks, why don't you see where this beast came from? Did they drop it off from a boat? Did it travel up the coast and the ghouls travel the ocean floor? We don't need the ogre, we can figure this out."
The priest furrows his brows at Cueta. "If I were in the creature's situation I would rather be dead than trade one cruel master for another cruel master with questions."
Vallen groans at Kal'tos' response. "You know ogres are stupid beasts Kal'tos. We may get a name at most. Then what? Let us end its misery and be done with this."
He looks over at Gair, gesturing to the ground. "Before we mess up the tracks, why don't you see where this beast came from? Did they drop it off from a boat? Did it travel up the coast and the ghouls travel the ocean floor? We don't need the ogre, we can figure this out."
The priest furrows his brows at Cueta. "If I were in the creature's situation I would rather be dead than trade one cruel master for another cruel master with questions."
"Stupid beasts they may be, but sometimes may unwittingly yield valuable information. Regardless, it will not survive the night. This debate is pointless unless one here speaks giant."
When Vallen speaks of masters, Cueta flinches as if she's been hit. Her eyes narrow and blushing, she stares hard at the dwarf, and letting the chain drop again, she balls her fists and her whole body goes taut. The woman's mouth opens, closes, opens, and then, with a long, ragged breath, Cueta slumps, and stares at the ground. Picking up the chain, she keeps her gaze on the beach and starts walking the chain up the beach again, a seemingly Sisyiphusian task. This New World has made you cruel, girl.
Tomag frowns heavily at the mention of killing the ogre. In the thick of battle was one thing, but interrogating it and then slaying it? "I cannot condone bringing this ogre to, just to interrogate and then kill it. If it yet lives, and you give it sense once more, it shall not be on my watch that it dies by any hand other than nature's," the Sarenraen says, his tone deadly serious. His weapon hangs from its belt loop, but the half-orc's fists are balled tight, and he continues with the same sharp voice, "The Dawnflower teaches forgiveness. If you spare it, I shall make it my duty to ensure it will never harm another soul of Newspring as long as it lives."
Vallen's eyebrows raise as Cueta goes taunt, and appears ready to spring. He holds up his empty palms as she seems to get angry, and then just as suddenly backs down. Vallen looks around a bit, and then slowly relaxes, unsure what to say.
Did I just win an agrument? Is this what it feels like? Grundinnar, thank you for guiding my tongue... Though... Cueta seems angry.
Hassan swivels to regard Tomag, "Those are bold claims Born-at-Dawn. You have confidence that you could contain such a creature, even from the start? An ogre, even one crippled so is a very real threat. I would not deny you the responsibility should you choose it but know, as Newspring's protector, I would treat any crime committed by this behemoth as your own and I will act accordingly."
Manari looks at Istiel, covered with gore, and a hint of a smile plays around her mouth. "আমি, বোন নম পক্ষপাতী. এটি উভয় নিরাপদ এবং ক্লিনার. কিন্তু আমার অনুমতি ...."
She whispers an incantation, and touches Istiel, who is suddenly clean as if she had just stepped out of the shower.
=====
The ogre's collar connected to three chains, each thirty feet long, the links as thick as Cueta's wrist, certainly capable of restraining an ogre.
Melilla gives a startled squawk when Cueta hugs her, and awkwardly reciprocates. She stumbles a little when Cueta lets go.
"Hurt?" she says, thoughtfully. She looks down at her belly, where a line of faint scars can be seen. "I was, yes. I think the fat one helped." Then she looks at the dagger in her hands, and frowns, wiping it clean. It is a gaudy thing, with three rubies set in the golden pommel, but seems well made.
"Miss Elisa gave me this. I am to kill her if the kuru made her pregnant." She stares past her sister for a moment, and then looks her in the eye. "I have been many things for many people since I was your rabbit, sister."
"More like a boar, I'd say," Edmund Thayer says. "The way she fights, I mean. I've seen charging orcs that looked timid next to this one."
=====
Edmund shakes his head at Hassan's question.
"I thought the ghouls were bad enough. We went down the path to the west and met perhaps a dozen," He points to his sister and their guards, and then to Melilla and Balis. "These two followed us and proved themselves worthy. Manari and some of the others went east and met another group. We lost two."
"Only one," says a deep voice, and Ingwe lumbers out of the darkness, carrying Zik in one massive, flabby arm like a child. "I was able to save this one. Kyle is dead."
The ogre coughs blood and sits up, thrashing wildly as Sorala binds the worst of its wounds. It falls back a moment later, breathing again, eyes glazed. It is alive, if not terribly alert.
Cueta sighs and hugs her sister again, kissing her forehead, and then runns her hand under her nose to stanch a sudden sniffle, and wipes some moisture from her eyes. "Aye, it seems you are a rabbit no more, sister. Let us go fishing soon. I'd like to hear of what you are these days. But tonight, get some rest - you earned a deep sleep."
Turning to the others, Cueta's voice comes out surer, more of a growl, as she nods her head in the ogre's direction. "I will watch the beach tonight. I... wasn't planning on sleeping this evening anyways, with our new friends in town. As for that - do we kill it or keep it?"
Sorala stands, wobbly, and rubs her gore-slicked arms in the downpour, cleaning them. "If we keep it, I'll try and talk with it tomorrow. But as to whether we keep it - I could care not."
Walking over to pick up her club, the linguist stops at the body of the ghoul that Vada killed. Sorala stands over the body for a beat, and then reaching down, turns it over and starts looking it over.
Istiel grins at Manari, looking over her clothes as the blood, sand, dirt, and ghoul magically slough off. She wipes her sleeves casually. "আমি নম পছন্দ করে, কিন্তু আজ একটু পছন্দ অবশিষ্ট ছিল. আপনি বোন ..." Her eyes turn towards the weakly moving ogre, and she tenses. "মাছি সত্যিই রাক্ষস পালন করা হয় ধন্যবাদ? আমি তারা তাদের নিজস্ব নাক গত দেখতে পারে না শপথ." She mumbles to the wizard, tensing and checking the string on her bow.
Vallen listens to Edmund in the others, his lips thinning as the news of Kyle's death is reported. He looks to the half-orc. "Ingwe... we must be vigilant in the coming days. Should any die to the ghoul-sickness.. they will become ghouls themselves. With proper treatment we may be able to help the sick fight if off. Should anyone come to you that was in the battle and are reporting illness, find me and I will lend what aid I can."
The priest groans as the ogre struggles awake. His eyes run over the iron that is connected to the ogre's chain. This is a gift from the Forge-Father. The others want to waste it chaining up this monster we can't even feed? No.... it needs to be taken away from the beach, the sea air and blood will cause it to rust quickly... Torag... I will not allow your gift to be wasted.
He turns to Edmund, Manari, Ingwe, and the others gathered. "Please, talk some sense into them, they won't listen to me. The ogre should be put out of its misery right now, there is no reason to torture the monster- enough pain and misery has been dealt today. And you heard Tomag, he's serious. Let us not make enemies among ourselves or make a burden of this beast." The dwarf turns towards the ogre, his face turning grim. "I will execute it myself if need be."
"Are you out of your minds?" Zoriya finally snaps, having been listening in increasing exasperation to the debate over the fate of the ogre. "This--no, enough. Silverclasp is correct, and if you need him spoken to I will do so, but enough talk of 'keeping'. He is not a little lost child. Perhaps if you care so for his well-being you ought to ask his thoughts, hm? Tell us where we shall get the food to feed him? Explain to me exactly how you mean to--"
Zoriya cuts herself short, breathing in raggedly through her bloodied mouth as she sways slightly on her feet. She reaches out blindly and grips the closest arm for support, which happens to be Hassan's.
"I apologize. I did not mean...but to talk of sparing his life while cutting off parts of his body strikes me as incongruous." She leans against Hassan as subtly as she can, hoping he has the good sense to stand with her on this. "If you wish to be kind, give him a clean death. His gods will look after him. We have our own to tend to."
She gestures around her at the wounded and dead, including in the sweep of her gaze the unfortunate ghouls.
"We are under siege from too many sides to break amongst ourselves. So enough. Please."
Paaie has come to hover at the edge of what looks like something that's none of her concern, her dark eyes flitting from the ogre to the folk speaking as she tries to staunch the ragged wounds across her chest and neck. Her eyes linger the most on Vallen with a quiet awe.
"...should someone go back to Newspring?" She asks, almost too quiet to be heard. "To tell them not to worry?"
Gair stares silently at the ogre while the others continue to argue, his wounds throbbing painfully and a pounding growing in his head. Planting the head of his axe in the sand, he grips the handle with his left hand and lowers himself into a sitting position, legs crossed. Still so soft after all they have been through...the decision must be simple.
His voice is strong and sudden when he does speak, "Zoriya and Vallen are right. There is too much to lose should we wake the ogre. End it now and let us focus our attention elsewhere. We have watches to set and a brave young man to lay to rest."
He lifts his gaze over the ogre to Edmund, "Where are the others? Returned to Newspring? Where is my son? And what of Blaidd and his people?
Hassan closes his eyes for a long moment as Ingwe's pronouncement. A great victory...why does it still taste of defeat. I must do better.
Opening his eyes he moves to the shaman, "We owe you a debt Ingwe, life is so precious here, you have my gratitude for preserving one more...if only we could have done the same for Kyle. We will see him honored properly."
He looks down at the small battered form of Zik, "Silverclasp, Tos, is there more you can do for the boy?"
His eyes widen slightly as he feels a hand on his arm, looking over his shoulder slowly he sees the irrisani woman clutching his arm. He offers the bloodied woman a grim smile and moves his arm slightly to provide more support, "As a matter of security, I hope the council will heed my words, there is little enough worth redeeming in such a creature. Finish it now, I will do it with your leave. To not is to invite more tragedy and my heart is overburdened enough."
The small voice of Paaie, barely heard from the edge of the gathered defenders brings Hassan around, "Indeed. Edmund, have any of the others returned. There are many faces I do not see. And yes, what of the goblins?"
Cueta grimaces as Zoriya's words come, seemingly a further condemnation of the Mwangi's - not thoughts exactly, but being. "If we don't... keep the beast, I see no reason to keep watch here. For me at least, in this rainstorm - I'd do no good. I'll go and check on Newspring. and if there's trouble - I'll be back within the hour." Slinging her flail over her shoulder, Cueta begins making her way up the trail to Newspring. Turning quickly as she walks, she shouts, "Kyle fought bravely with many of us here. He deserves the send-off of a hero, and I'd like to take part."
Seeing the decisions of the others begin to swing in his favor, the dwarf relaxes a little. An observant person would see the priest slowly reach for his holy symbol and grip it while he looked over the group silently. Grundinnar- you have truly blessed me this day. Our community owes you a great debt for assisting me in all our diplomatic endeavors.
When he hears a small voice of the halfling woman he saved, he nods slowly. "A good idea...thank you, Cueta." Seeing her various wounds, he speaks to all those present.
"Please gather the wounded here- the combined power of Torag and Abadar will see to afflictions of the flesh." Blue eyes glance over Zik. "Yes... Kal'tos and I will see him awake once more. That one has seen death too many times already."
Vallen pulls his hammer from his belt and begins to walk over to the ogre.
"Bring Zik to me" once the boy is next to Kal'Tos he will cast cure light wounds for health
Tomag stands to his full height, arms crossed in front of his barrel chest. "If you had intended to be merciful to this ogre, you would have let it die," he says, his voice carrying a sharp edge. "The Dawnflower beseeches us to redeem all that we can, and now that you have brought this creature back from the brink of death, it will be our responsibility to deal with it." The Sarenraen stands vigilant, looking like he will not simply let the others slay the ogre once it is no longer useful to them.
Vada walks up to the group after having used some beach grass to wipe the blood of his weapon. Hearing them arguing about something, he stands quietly and tries to understand what they are talking about.
Septimus slides up from the darkness beside Vada, "I see I am not the only Chelaxian not welcomed to inner circle despite stepping up for the community. It takes great bravery to charge a feral ghoul with nothing but a mace."
"Tomag." Zoriya releases Hassan to take the few slightly unsteady steps to him, resting a slim hand on his forearm and tilting her aching neck to look up at him. "Your Dawnflower is a kind goddess, yes?"
"There is no redemption in bringing this one back only to live a cruel life, always an outcast. I know your heart is wide enough to accept him, but can we truly say the same for all of Newspring? I spoke harshly, but I know the ways of his brethren. If you must walk through this storm I..." she hesitates briefly, her teeth catching her lip ever so slightly "Zon-Kuthon give me his joy, I suppose I shall walk through it with you. But I tell you that he won't thank you for this choice. No one else will, either. You are choosing the difficult path."
"You should not fall on this knife, not for one soul, not when so many others need you. You cannot save everyone, Born-at-Dawn. You know this. Please, don't be foolish."
She looks at him without pleading or anger, only a faint disappointment and firm resolve.
"Wait!" Paaie follows Cueta, feet silent on the sand. "I mean--wait, please. I'd like to come with you. You shouldn't--you shouldn't go alone."
She cuts a less than inspiring figure, but she does have a sling dangling from her hand and the uncertain look of someone determined to at least try to be brave.
"...and I don't want to stay here." She glances over her shoulder at the still arguing big folk, then back to Cueta.
"Tomag." Zoriya releases Hassan to take the few slightly unsteady steps to him, resting a slim hand on his forearm and tilting her aching neck to look up at him. "Your Dawnflower is a kind goddess, yes?"
"There is no redemption in bringing this one back only to live a cruel life, always an outcast. I know your heart is wide enough to accept him, but can we truly say the same for all of Newspring? I spoke harshly, but I know the ways of his brethren. If you must walk through this storm I..." she hesitates briefly, her teeth catching her lip ever so slightly "Zon-Kuthon give me his joy, I suppose I shall walk through it with you. But I tell you that he won't thank you for this choice. No one else will, either. You are choosing the difficult path."
"You should not fall on this knife, not for one soul, not when so many others need you. You cannot save everyone, Born-at-Dawn. You know this. Please, don't be foolish."
She looks at him without pleading or anger, only a faint disappointment and firm resolve.
Tomag falters, frowning. "I... you...," he sputters, but it is clear that exhaustion and her words are taking their toll. His head droops as he realizes this will not be an argument he can win.
The Sarenraen clenches his eyes tight and prays in his head, "Forgive my, my Lady, for this is another soul I could not save...'
Septimus slides up from the darkness beside Vada, "I see I am not the only Chelaxian not welcomed to inner circle despite stepping up for the community. It takes great bravery to charge a feral ghoul with nothing but a mace."
Vada sighs heavily. "I'm just a farmer, mate. But those things... they'd have killed us all if they had the chance. I... I don't want to die in this godsforsaken place."
Manari scowls at the debate about the ogre, and finally shakes her head.
"Even Sarenrae must understand that there are things on this earth that are beyond redemption. After all, it was she who smote Rovagug." She steps closer to the beast, her distaste clear. "Vai jūs varat runāt? Ko jūs varat pastāstīt mums?"
The ogre groans, turning a fearful eye on her.
"You can't truly be thinking of letting this thing live among us?" Sandra says. "There are children in this camp, and we have no walls capable of holding it. I am willing to accept hobgoblins as allies, because they have a true society, but ogres are beasts that devour human flesh. It is madness."
Vallen listens to Manari speak, standing next to the ogre with her. A frown makes heavy lines on his face, curving his mustache downward at a sharp angle.
With no response from the giant, Vallen slowly pulls the hammer from his belt. "A valiant attempt, Manari. But this one's fate it not among us. This.. is for the best." He lays the hammer over both of his hands, looking down at the ogre with sad eyes.
The dwarf says a short prayer. "Jūs bijāt šeit nosūtīti pret savu gribu, varbūt vergu visu savu dzīvi. Jums būs bezmaksas, tagad. Var Pharasma spriest jums labvēlīgi, un nosūtiet savu dvēseli, lai tās galīgo atpūtu. Esi brīvs..."
He takes a step back, hefting his hammer high above his head. The priest steps forward and swings down on the ogre's head as if driving a spike in the ground.
Breathing heavily, he watches as the last signs of life leave the creature's body. He looks at his blood-covered hammer. His mind flashes back to his time as an apprentice smith, vividly recalling the blood-stained sledge hammer in his hands and the burst head of the goblin lying before him...
Vallen shakes his head, replacing the memory with a prayer, one hand grasping his holy symbol. The dwarf appears to stand silent a long while. Torag. Forge Father. Warmth of the Hearth. This iron will be shaped in your name. Worked into tools to sow crops, saws to cut lumber, hammers to nail boards, spades to caulk log cabins... Weapons and armor to protect ourselves. I will carry out your Grand Plan, whatever my part may be.
Inhaling deeply and putting his warhammer back into its loop, Vallen lays his hands on the iron chains and collar, fingers arcing energy as he cuts the metal into pieces.
Tomag stomps away shortly before Vallen slays the ogre. A trail of bent grass and broken branches, leading back to town, follow the half-orc as he tries to channel his frustration away from his companions.
Zoriya curses in emphatic and vivid fashion as she follows Tomag, beating brush away from her face as she treks after him.
"Stop this! Tomag, by--by anything holy, slow down, at least, I can't--" she stops abruptly, holding her hands at chest height and staring at their broken shapes "I can't. Please. Please stop."
Tomag stops when he realizes that Zoriya is following him, still injured. Letting out a strangled sigh, he turns around and goes to stand at her side. "You're still injured lady Zoriya, what are you doing?" he asks incredulously, before taking her hands and praying softly. Sarenrae's gifted magic flows through the half-orc's hands, the woman's mending flesh and setting bone.
Once the soft glow of the healing magic fades, he sighs again. "Vasily and Koschei need you. Do you have time to waste following someone like me?" he chides Zoriya, the defeated look on his face so different than his usual smile.
Zoriya lets out a soft sigh of relief as Tomag heals her, then knits her slender, unbroken fingers through Tomag's much thicker and rougher ones.
"They'd never forgive me if I let anything happen to you." She smiles, bloody face streaked with rain somehow less severe when she shows this kind of relief. "You need me too, by the way, you absolute idiot. I..."
She squeezes his hands gently, expression soft and mournful.
"I understand. You saw yourself in that ogre. The idea of being left because you look like the monster parents tell their children about." Zoriya closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them, her face full of stark honesty. "I am a monster, Born-at-Dawn. I'm something parents tell their children to fear at night. I'm supposed to suck the marrow from their bones and the fat from their little fingers. I have done things that...I have done things, terrible things, to people who deserved none of it, because it was what everyone told me I ought to do."
"But I'm less of a monster when you help me. If there's a sinner you ought to save, then--I don't want to be the way I am. So I will be selfish when it comes to caring for you, because I have no other way to be."
Tomag's head slumps forward, the shadows of the night hiding his eyes. "You are an unfair woman," the Inquisitor says simply, but does not move to extricate his hands from Zoriya's.