Amber looks from Cole to the Serra and back again, answering their questions in order.
"What magic dealings there are in the 'Heart tend to happen here, with me." she answers. Her smile brightens. "Ah. Divine magic is not usually my area, but the triplets and I have made agreements for some few things, for the betterment of all, I think." She grins, and pulls a light wooden case from beneath the counter.
"A Cure Light Wounds wand happens to be on that list. Have you been to the Abadarian Banker's yet? They have set up a temporary office for trade. I can also take coin, or magical or alchemical items in trade, though anything else would likely best be done through the Abadarians first." Three sunrods are set decoratively in a large vase, displayed like cut flowers for the table. Alchemists fires and holy waters line the shelf behind her and are readily available, at least for now. She pulls down what those requested with a smile. It will be a good day for business.
Her smile falters as she reaches for the last, the potion of heroism. "Oh. I'm afraid I don't have any potions like you describe in stock. I must have sold the last one to the Watch captain last night."
"Some has been salvaged from damaged buildings, brought here by the displaced. Some has been crafted on site, though that is slow going at the moment. And some is brought in by folks such as yourselves, soldiers and militia members as they return. Most trade goes through the bankers first, for ease of commerce and to assure fair practices, then out to the merchants here."
"OK then, thanks. Serra, I'll take this gear over to the Abadarians and get us some cash. Be right back"
Cole heads over to the bank and sorts out their gear.
He returns to Amber's and buys the three sunrods, doling out the cash to the party members me meets along the way. "Thank you very much Amber."
After packing away the sunrods, Cole then makes a beeline for the weapon and armor smith...
Serra stays, making small talk with Amber while he waits for Cole to return. He asks her about how she learned about alchemy and related shop talk. He doesn't buy anything at present, but promises to return and look again.
When Cole returns, Serra follows him to the smith.
Berne takes Eli to a larger ward. A woman that Eli at first takes to be Byrgit looks up as they enter and moves to join them. Berne introduces his other sister, Bryenne, before showing Eli around. The patients here are much lower risk, and Eli finds there are several that he might help.
The first is a young boy, no older than seven, his arm encased in plastered webbing of some kind and hung in a sling. In another bed, a man recuperates from wounds received in the last attack. In the last bed by the door, a woman cradles a tiny, but loud infant.
A small halfling sits on a high stool behind the counter, carefully eying the fletching on the shaft in front of him. A stack of arrows lays to one side, with five more pulled off to the right.
"Be right...." he takes a pair of tiny scissors and nicks something too small to see from the door, then looks up. "...with you! Good day! How many I help you?"
Cole eyes the halfling and wonders if he's a native or some crusader-turned-merchant. He decides, for now, to give him the benefit of the doubt and heads on in.
"'name's Cole and I'm looking for some arrows - and a rather fine bow."
He looks around the shop and wonders if he'll have any luck at all.
Serra follows Cole in, keen on finding some better armor for himself.
Something more knightly...or maybe a refitting.
"Excuse me, sir halfling, do you have a smith on the premises? Is it possible to get a custom order?" Serra asking around. "My...uh...body type...uh...needs certain allowances made."
Serra inspects what he might have in stock.
"And do you have weapons? Of silver or cold iron?"
"A fully charged wand of cure light wounds Cole? You must have some ambitious plans for our near future! I'll take one and look forward to using it."
Grasker will look for a healers kit at the alchemy shop and a cold iron masterwork longsword from the arms merchant.
Grasker will look for who is doing food preparation and ask about ordering freshly baked rolls and a big pot of mwangi coffee as breakfast for the wounded tomorrow.
The value of the gear astounds the Gnome, and he counts the coin and gems as he trots after the archer and the knight. He leaves his companions to their own shopping and after examining the shops and approaches the stall packed with mundane gear.
"Rory Hegglestrom? I'm Beagan, Beagan Berelcar, newly arrived from Kyonin, in a round about manner. I could use a better saddle for my noble steed here. A Cannis Bonalagus like him isn't well known in my part of the world, but apart from the Tanglebriar, we don't deal with demons on a regular basis, so I don't know if Xanthos' kind is common around here or not." He happily pats the furry creature.
The mount snuffles, and very quietly exhales. इस तरह देख नहीं, हम नहीं कर रहे हैं.
"I mean, it seems like I'm made for his back, or rather his back is made to support me. I'm sure the Big R' sends him that way on purpose. But when he leaps over the cultists, well, I'm sure a few nice leather straps and such would help me stay in place, you know."
"If combat saddles for them aren't common, maybe I could craft something."
Eli grasps Bryenne's hands in his own, listening respectfully to her protocol. "Please let me know when I've worn out my welcome here. I understand that captain Irabeth will be recalling us in a while, so I apologize if my time here doesn't last long today." He realizes a bit too late that he's talking past Bryenne as he tries to study the census.
Eli takes a moment to settle in, setting his hammer against the wall, next to the door. He surveys the ward, and tries to look through her eyes. How to proceed? Take care of the easy ones quickly, making room, or concentrate on the more severe? You made it look effortless, Lenore.
He looks over the supplies readily available from Bryenne, and starts to work.
The more he works, the more Eli grows frustrated. This is truly senseless. All this innocent life, savaged, and towards what end? To satiate bloodlust and inflict suffering for sadistic worship. This work is not for the faint of heart, yet this is not for me. The damage has already been done here. To prevent slaughter, one must stop the slaughterers. Slaughter them... first.
He looks around the shop and wonders if he'll have any luck at all.
“Ahh, you must be the new people.” The Halfling says with a grin. " I’m Darian Ozyrm. A pleasure. If you’re looking for arrows, you’re in the right place.” His laugh rings out, pure and strong, or bows or weapons or armor. Oh, not that I make them, no. I… Oh, hello there!” he says as Serra enters. “Let’s see what we can see, shall we?”
Hopping down, he walks first around Cole, measuring him by sight alone. "Oh, don't mind me. Can you tell me of your travels? I mean, if it isn't too painful. For some, it is and I don't begrudge them, but before... you know, before the Fall, folks always talked a bit as I got them situated."
Finally satisfied, he goes back behind the counter and retrieves a lovely darkwood composite longbow. "This is the best bow I have that'll fit you. It's light, has great pull."
Turning to Serra, he smiles, "Oh my gods, yes! That doesn't fit you at all. I bet it's rubbing something awful. Come here, come here, let me take your measure and see what I can do. Or rather, what Graeme can do. He's the actual smith. But he can't very well run his bellows in here, can he? No, I take care of things on this end, and Graeme takes care of the actual creating and fixing."
His speech rolls on, almost soothing as he works. When he sees Grasker come in, he practically beams.
"And what might I do for you? You are all together, are you not?"
"Rory Hegglestrom? I'm Beagan, Beagan Berelcar, newly arrived from Kyonin, in a round about manner. I could use a better saddle for my noble steed here.... If combat saddles for them aren't common, maybe I could craft something."
The tall lean man looks up, as the little gnome and big uhhh... Xanthos... enter, "A saddle? For such an interesting creature? I don't think I have a saddle, but I do have a variety of leathers I was able to salvage from my shop before it burned. The leather may smell of smoke, but it is otherwise quite good. I'll give you a good deal on it, if you'll tell me more about your... Cannis Bonalagus, did you say? I have never seen one before."
"I apologize if my time here doesn't last long today."
"Nonsense, sir. We are grateful for your assistance." Bryenne works quietly with Eli during the time he has. The mother and child are soon on their way with Eli's help and he was able to ease some of the young boy's pain, though only time will help his bones. Luckily they were set well; the triplets are very good at mundane healing, though Bryenne explains that they have been rationing what magical healing they have, in case of future attacks and more deadly injuries.
"Thank you for your help. We would be grateful for any future time you might be able to spare."
"And what might I do for you? You are all together, are you not?"
Serra nods, answering the energetic halfling.
"Indeed, this here is Cole. This holy brother is Grasker, and I am Serra. Hail and well met. We are glad to see you here. He have fought against many varied foes and, at times, we nearly found ourselves outweaponed and outarmored. Your services are exactly what we need."
Serra's eyes look at armors he cannot afford.
"I'm looking for a simple upgrade to my buckler...something light that won't affect me when I gain mastery of this ranseur here. Might you have a better make of buckler?" Serra begins to take off his buckler, though of decent make, is nothing special in hopes of trying on something new.
Serra stays around to help Grasker and Cole get outfitted. He does so in a totally knightly and manly supportive way, totally.
"Darian, this is indeed a VERY fine bow and I thank you. I'm also looking for a few hand weapons to round me out if you've got 'em. Oh, and I was wondering if you'd take this bow off my hands. It's still quite good, but I don't need three I think." Cole grins as he offers his old bow to the merchant for 37gp.
Cole looks around the room a bit to stir his creativity before asking, "I need a new warhammer and a second dagger. The warhammer should be silver and skillfully made. The dagger - cold iron and also skillfully made of course. And I'll take three quivers of cold iron arrows and one quiver of blunt silver arrows off your hands as well please."
Cole then heads back to Amber the Alchemist. "I was wondering, do you have any Weapon Blanch? Adamantine in particular." Cole shakes his head, "I know it's expensive, but I have a few coin left and could use couple doses of Adamantine Weapon Blanch if you've got it."
Cole gathers up what he can and repacks his gear carefully - especially the weapon blanch.
"Oh yes, I think I have just the thing. It's quite shiny." Darian pulls out a lovely buckler for Serra and both a silver dagger and a cold iron hammer from his shelves and hands them over to Cole, then searches out the quivers of arrows.
Cole returns to Amber, who grins to see him return so soon. "Blanches, is it? I hope this means you're planning to stick around for the War. You're local, right? I thought you'd stay. We're going to need every warrior against the onslaught, even if Nerosyan really is coming, if they actually are."
Serra tries on the buckler, leaving his old one to be given to another knight who needs it.
Serra thanks the halfling for his time and leaves, making a quick stop at Amber's, then goes to find a quiet place to work for a while.
I hope Kastor is having safe. He's a good squire.
Copy Alarm, Resist Energy, Dispel Magic into a traveling spellbook.
Serra keeps the scroll of dimensional lock within the pages of his traveling spellbook.
Serra rubs his eyes and massages his hand, tired from the hours of work, writing, and study. He wonders what to do next.
"Oh yes, I think I have just the thing. It's quite shiny." Darian pulls out a lovely buckler for Serra and both a silver dagger and a cold iron hammer from his shelves and hands them over to Cole, then searches out the quivers of arrows.
"Thanks." Cole stows his gear and leaves his old hammer behind as Serra did for another.
Cole returns to Amber, who grins to see him return so soon. "Blanches, is it? I hope this means you're planning to stick around for the War. You're local, right? I thought you'd stay. We're going to need every warrior against the onslaught, even if Nerosyan really is coming, if they actually are."
"Nerosyan... The Queen has said they're coming to aid us? We have no 'stone. Without that, I'm not sure we can do much but fall back. Or do they have a solution for that too?", Cole asks with interest.
"That is what I heard, at any rate. The queen will come. We have relied upon the Wardstones for a long time, but folks are saying that with ours destroyed, none of them are as strong as they used to be. But we will not give up!You're not giving up, are you, Cole?!?"
Darian thanks them both for their old gear and begins working on rubbing out the nicks and scratches.
"That is what I heard, at any rate. The queen will come. We have relied upon the Wardstones for a long time, but folks are saying that with ours destroyed, none of them are as strong as they used to be. But we will not give up!You're not giving up, are you, Cole?!?"
Darian thanks them both for their old gear and begins working on rubbing out the nicks and scratches.
Am I giving up? What, exactly, would I be giving up? My job guiding tourists through the world wound? I've already given that up. So what's next? Fighting a war of attrition with Demons? There's no way to win that war. The Demons have always been more plentiful.
Cole departs with a nod, but says nothing. He finds his way into the kitchen and gathers a few morsels for himself and his father and then seeks him out. Sharing a cold supper he chats about his activities over the last few days.
"So what are your plans dad? Should I get you out of here - out of the city? Valas is closer, but I expect a lot of refugees to head that way as a result so it'll be crowded. Also, a bit cut off if we completely fall here." Cole stretches out a bit, "I think the Star Keep will be better, but it'll be a tough road along the river and 'wound the whole way. We could also try for the Estrovian forest and cross the Egelsee river in Lackthroat and pass from there into Numeria."
"That's probably the best route, and I can hunt along the way to keep us fed and comfortable. It'll be relatively free of Demons, and refugees. I dunno - what do you think?"
His father stops, the piece of cheese in his hand half way to his mouth. Slowly, he sets it down again. "I'm not going anywhere. Your mother is here. Your brother is here. I'll die here, though I hope to take a few more of those demonic bastards with me before I go."
He takes a solid bite off the chunk of cheese, swallowing before he continues.
"But you should go. You're the end of the Zeff line. Go somewhere safe, have some kids. Have a life. I'll be fine here."
His father stops, the piece of cheese in his hand half way to his mouth. Slowly, he sets it down again. "I'm not going anywhere. Your mother is here. Your brother is here. I'll die here, though I hope to take a few more of those demonic bastards with me before I go."
Great. Just great. He's digging in. Cole sighs quietly to himself.
He takes a solid bite off the chunk of cheese, swallowing before he continues.
"But you should go. You're the end of the Zeff line. Go somewhere safe, have some kids. Have a life. I'll be fine here."
"No, that seems unlikely. If you're staying, so am I - at least for now. There are a few things I can do to make it easier on folks here I think. We have a list of cultist hide-outs to root out, and I expect my bow will be handy in dealing with both fallen crusaders and actual demons before this thing is done."
"But don't dig in too deeply father. I know this is our home, but there may come a time when it cannot be saved. It would be foolish to stay and die for a piece of dirt - especially when the very dirt is transformed by the chaos brought forth from the Worldwound. There are limits."
Cole stands and stretches his legs. He takes off his hat and wipes his forehead on his sleeve.
"I'd better find the others before we bed down for the night. We should talk about the cultists and make a plan to head out in the morning I think. We should plot our course carefully."
Cole leaves his father and looks for the others.
Grasker will look for a healers kit at the alchemy shop and a cold iron masterwork longsword from the arms merchant.
Grasker will look for who is doing food preparation and ask about ordering freshly baked rolls and a big pot of mwangi coffee as breakfast for the wounded tomorrow.
Grasker is able to make his purchases from the alchemy shop and arms merchant.
Kimroth Otai welcomes Grasker when he enters the kitchen, imparting the saddest news possible, "I'm afraid we've run out of coffee. I will set aside freshly baked rolls for you, though. Come by first thing and I'll have them ready." Though he owns Defender's Heart, he has more or less ceded control to the Eagles Watch in all areas except this; in his kitchen, he is still King.
Serra amuses himself watching Kastor 'run', 'jump', and play...it makes him happy to see the youth enjoy the pastimes of the young before the weight of duty again presses him into service.
Thinking of things he meant to do, he raises himself off his chair and plod over to Amber's store.
"Amber? Did I? Did I see that you had some scrolls? Might...might...I take a look at your selection. Magic seems to be coming easier to me of late. I might be able to use some of your wares much like m'Mom did."
You looking for a Create Food spell, fatso?
Serra's stomach rumbles.
No. War magic. War magic for fighting demons.
Oh. But you're still fat, fatso.
Serra sighs and looks at the stock of what is available.
"Hello again, Serra." she nods at his request, "Oh, was your mother a mage? I'm sure she'd be happy that you seem to be exploring that part of your heritage. I do have some, though it's a little picked over save for the lowest level ones." She pulls out her master list, though there are a few items that are crossed off. "I have no scrolls of those at present, but could have tomorrow, if need be."
Serra looks at Amber's list, nodding with intrigue.
"You know, Amber, I recently acquired some spells that might interest you...maybe we could help each other out," Serra slides over his traveling spellbook for Amber to look at.
Her eyes spark at the offer of the spell book. She leans over to read but is very careful not to touch.
"Yess, I think we could. Will you be staying, then, Serra? So many are leaving, but you're made of stronger stuff, I think. I would be happy to work out some sort of trade with you, if you're staying for the long haul."
Serra frowns, putting his lower lip out as he thinks.
"Staying? Going? I'm not sure, actually. I offered my services to Lady Irabeth. If she wants me to go, I'll go. If she wants me to fight, I'll fight. And if she wants me to go fight, I'll go fight. Not sure I can tell you what I don't know yet," Serra confides.
"I'm here to fight demons or die trying. However, if Irabeth wants me elsewhere, that's what I'll do."
"I'm here to fight demons or die trying. However, if Irabeth wants me elsewhere, that's what I'll do."
"In that case, Ser Serra, when you are in Kenebras, we can help each other out, one to one exchange, eh? And for every demon you kill,I'll scribe an extra scroll for you, if you bring me the body."
"And for every demon you kill,I'll scribe an extra scroll for you, if you bring me the body."
Serra lets out a laugh.
"The whole body!? Some of them are quite weighty! Are you sure you don't want a head or heart or fist? The whole thing, are you sure?" Serra isn't quite willing to agree, but is happy to negotiate.
"Something recognizable, that you can carry." she concedes. She blanches, perhaps a memory of the size of Korremzadeh himself, though surely doesn't expect Serra to bring down such as that, does she?
Eli pats Bryenne on the back, praising her for the challenges she continues to face. He excuses himself, taking his hammer off the wall before he leaves.
Wandering through the courtyard, he keeps his eyes out for familiar faces. He hopes to meet up with Irabeth, but keeps from pursuing her directly. When she's ready, she'll gather her new recruits.
Passing through the 'market', Eli considers his equipment, and frowns lightly as he thinks of his time below ground. Will they equip us better? What possible shape can the military be in here, and how likely are they to maintain an arsenal here, of all places?
Eli inquires with the blacksmith. "If you happen to have any medium armors of superior quality, I'd be interested in what you have. Also, I'm quite fond of this hammer, but would craft it more masterfully. Do you have the means to make it more balanced from the grip?"
Dorian is more than happy to help Eli look through the armor he has. His supply is surprisingly broad, but then not everyone that has made it to Defender's Heart has survived. Finally he settles on a nice breast plate in the appropriate size and quality. "Will this do, Sir? As for the hammer, I'll have Graeme take a look at it if you'd like to leave it with me?"
Eli hefts the breastplate with appreciation. "Yes, this should do nicely. Really heavy, isn't it? A bit heavier than my current shirt." He takes off his shirt, a light look of apology from its aroma.
He seems comfortable enough with consulting Graeme, until Dorian encourages him to part with the weapon. His mouth gets a little dry, and he almost starts to leave with his purchase. Stopping himself, he turns back to Dorian, and nods. "Yes, if you would, it's just, please tell him to be careful with it. A good friend of mine made it for me, and... well, I'm sure he'll be careful with it..." Before he thinks about it more, he hands it over, and makes to depart. "I should be around, so it shouldn't be hard to find me. How long should it take, do you think?"
"Oh don't worry about that, Sir. I'll polish it up for the next person and have it right as rain." He takes the armor, then seems to realize that the hammer holds special significance for the holder man.
"Of course, Sir. Graeme is very good, you'll see. If he thinks there's any question, we'll return it in the very condition it is in now, I promise you. Can't send those fighting the good fight out with fragile weapons. I should be able to get it back to you tomorrow." His head bobs as he talks, the hammer carried reverently with both hands.
Serra nods and leaves Amber's shop, contented in the result.
Having no more purchases to make at this time, Serra strolls around the Defender's Heart, learning what he can learn and resisting the urge to help out as a barkeep or innkeeper.
Knights do knightly work, no more, no less.
Wandering, Serra slowly nears Irabeth's office, wondering if they are going to gain audience at some point.
Eli lightens a little as Dorian treats the weapon with respect. "Thank you, Dorian. Tomorrow should be fine." As Eli leaves, he places himself, and finds himself drawn toward's the end of the market.
He asks around for Irabeth's war room, and stays very close, hoping to shorten the wait until she's ready to tell them the true state of affairs. Seeing Serra in close proximity, he nods civilly, and continues his wait.
As the companions get comfortable in Defender's Heart, they overhear people talking about the state of affairs:
Some time after supper, they are all called to the meeting room to meet with Irabeth.
"Thank you for coming. Anevia has filled me in on some of your journey, but I would like to hear it from you, and hear what your plans are for the future."
Serra enters the meeting with Irabeth, but doesn't speak until everyone is present as not to be rude.
He makes sure to clean his armor and has his shiny new buckler shining like a new buckler should. His beard has been kempt (decidedly not unkempt) and he has donned part of his regal garb bestowed upon him by the tailors.
"Lady Irabeth, give me a strike team and I shall purge the city of the cultists that doth inhabit. Demons are bad enough...but those mortals that conspire with them are worse than anything. They sap the strength and will from the holy. By giving them the sword, starknife, or ranseur, we can rebuild our morale and unite to face this demon threat!" Serra asks boldly.
"Give me ten sturdy knights to lead! And these cultists shall trouble you no more!"
You sure Dad would have done it that way?
Uh huh, definitely.
Uhm...what about my new friends?
You think they care about you, Fatso?
Cole listens to the rumors without comment. He never did trust rumors much - usually just a scared populous looking for something to complain about. Plenty to complain about these days.
He listens to Irabeth's simple question and Serra's far reaching answer.
"We did find some evidence of cultists operating in the city while we found our way out of the pit we had fallen into." he looks out among the party, "Who has that list?"
"Anyway, I think, with your leave, we'd like to drive them into the ground. A demon is easy to spot as an enemy, but these cultists worm their way into our culture and that's no good."
He looks at Serra, "I don't know if we need ten sturdy knights though. The guys we met below were tough, but not unmanageable. ...and now, thanks to you, we've been able to better equip ourselves for the coming fight."
Forever night. Hmmm. The night does feel longest when dark things roam the midnight hour.
Eli is glad to have the marketplace behind him, his purpose coming into focus more clearly with Irabeth's meeting. Without the weight of his armor and separated from his hammer, Eli fidgets a little with his hands. They link together, and hang in front of him as the conversation with their captain begins.
He listens as Serra asks for a command position. Delusions of grandeur, as well as phantom squires. Eli debates speaking up, but holds his tongue for the moment.
"Who has that list?"
"I believe Serra has it, likely. As likely as he still has the gold of Horgus. Unless by 'war effort' you meant to spend it yourselves, rather than turn it over to the coffers of Kenabres's own war effort?" Eying the new buckler, Eli thinks that very unlikely. He turns back to Irabeth.
"The letter mentioned Topaz Solutions, the Tower of Estrod, and a Nyserian Manor. I agree with Cole in that you should target these known locations, as likely they should yield even more intel regarding the evil afoot through Kenabres."
"We've also come across a sword by the name of Radiance, and we seek to return it to its proper place. Something about a Grey Garrison? Yes, I think that's right." Eli thinks for a second, then continues.
"Captain, you know more than any of us regarding the state of affairs in your city. What needs to be done?"
Grasker lets the knights provide the report, only adding comments.
"On our long journey out of the underground we encountered monstrous looking people that were attacked by cultists. They could be allies of the city against cultists, if approached right."
"We also came across corpses of cultists disguised as crusaders, as would happen in the past. They carried unholy symbols, so if all demon worshipers are so foolish then search of people arriving may discover them."
"By giving them the sword, starknife, or ranseur, we can rebuild our morale and unite to face this demon threat!"
"Or tooth! Don't forget giving them the tooth!" The holy bunny buck teeth have got to count for something!
Beagan bows deeply to the Lady.
"The powers have blessed up, suredly. Tenderlev's sacrifice saved our lives and granted us bits of her power to continue her cause. We fought demon-tainted vermin, and those fallen from righteousness to evil, and met descendents of the first crusaders who had maintained the faith. Tenderlev and Iomedae and the Big R' and even the Savage Sting all blessed us, sending us aid." His hands scruffle through Xanthos' fur. "And giving us the power to overcome the demons' false promises."
"I'm sure we are all dedicated to scouring out this evil. Those masquerading as crusaders seemed to be the most disturbing, and as Eli said, we may have some indication of where they might be. If you think that is a top priority."
Serra nods at Beagan, happy for the correction and the enthusiasm.
"...and by the tooth as well." Serra looks at Irabeth. "Surely, Anevia has filled you in on most of this, yes?"
At Eli's comment, Irabeth flicks a brow at Anevia, but the young woman shakes her head.
"The Abadarians are aware. If they are able to bring Horgus back, there may be an accounting, though they lack anyone of sufficient skill just now. But they confirmed that he has no family left."
Irabeth's broad brow furrows at Grasker's comments. "Monstrous creatures? What sort of creatures? Would these be the Descendents that you mentioned?" Again, Anevia answers silently, but sufficiently.
"This is good news! Allies against the demonic hordes would be more than welcome."
"Let me catch you up on what we know, which is markedly little at the moment. We do know that The Gray Garrison lies deep within Old Kenabres, which has fallen to the demons. At the moment, they are in a holding pattern, though we are still trying to determine just what it is they are waiting for. I do think you are correct, that the cultists must be rooted out first and foremost.
I'm afraid we do not have the 10 knights to spare, Sir Serra, but after all Anevia has told me of your brave actions to date, I have nothing but confidence in the ability of you and your companions to either bring them in, or rid of us of them altogether. I see you have already been to the merchants, and put some of the funds from Horgus's estate to use. Let that empower your strikeforce detail. First light on the morrow will be sufficient, I suspect.
Now, if I might see Radiance?"
"Yes, they called themselves Descendents of early crusaders. Their appearance was warped by nearity to the worldwound, though they were just as likely to be good or ill as those of us on the surface. And, despite all the time below, they still have faith in Iomadae."
...
Grasker will get out the case containing Radiance. Being perceptive and a bit paranoid, he realizes this would be a prime time for betrayal by cultist infiltrators. What is the composition of the room.. is the party outnumbered by armed guards? Does Irabeth seem up to something?
Since things seem legit, Grasker will open the case with reverence and present the recovered artifact to the commander of Defender's Heart.
"We took it from cultists, and believe they stole it from the Grey Garrison. Our plan was to return it to them.. if any survive. What do you think should be done?"
"Aye, this is Radiance. It is said she once burned with a holy Righteousness in the hand of her Paladin, Yaniel. At the beginning of the Fourth Crusade, Yaniel spoke out against the Mendevian crusaders, accusing them of negligence and sloth, and claiming these faults were what allowed Khorramzadeh to invade Kenabres and damage the wardstone. Her accusations cut too close to the truth, and in a moment of weakness her superiors threatened to excommunicate her.
Instead, she said she would enter the Worldwound and fight the Fourth Crusade on her own, with only her magic sword Radiance for company. The church was happy to see Yaniel go, and in the 2 years that followed, she was thought to have been slain. Yet when she returned to Kenabres in 4694 ar, leading a small army of crusaders she’d rescued, both Yaniel and her superiors had changed. For her part, Yaniel had shed her pride and insubordination, and had gained a new appreciation for the difficult decisions leaders are forced to make. And the church leaders had learned that sometimes the truth is exactly what you need to hear. Alas, Yaniel was assassinated before the year was out, slain by the lilitu demon Minagho only a week into her second personal crusade. Her followers managed to return to Kenabres with Radiance, but Yaniel’s body had been taken. The sword had gone dark after Yaniel’s death, its magical powers apparently lost, and so the crusaders elected to place it in the Gray Garrison on display. Unfortunately, she was stolen several months ago. It is good that you have brought her home."
As before, the sword lays rather plainly in its case, clearly a well made weapon, but otherwise ordinary weapon.
"As you found her, one of you should wield her in your fight against the cultists. Grasker? Will you be her arm for this latest crusade?"
"A sword with history. The story of Yaniel's Radiance should not end in a box, on a museum shelf. Our city's destiny is in the crusade, and the past days demand a new one. It would be an honor to carry this weapon against demonkind. And if I should fall let another pick it up, again and again until the last demon slain and the worldwound closed."
Grasker will take hold of the weapon and set down the storage case. He will draw the blade and make a prayer to his god:
"With Iomadae's blessing, may I be forged into a worthy champion for the sword Radiance! Let me be set me aflame with Yaniel's righteous courage and tempered with her hard won wisdom.
He will then sheathe the weapon and step back, joining his companions: The noble knights with squire and bunny, the wise tracker, the sage old hero. And a witch hunter that sets aside patient investigation of cults for direct action in a new crusade.