Grasker's valiant effort swings wide, missing the Huecuva.
"Where is your god nowwww?!?!?!" he growls, his dry breath a rattle of dust and bone and paper thin flesh.
Round 4
Jurin seems oblivious to the whistle of the hammer as it moves past his head, so intent is he on hitting the foul baker.
Round 5, Initiative 19
HP: 4/15
AC: 18 (ff 16, tch 13)
Wielding: Shield and Bastard Sword
Unable to penetrate the fallen one’s desiccated skin with his own blade, the Gnome switches back to attempting to assist his comrades. Noting the large gash rendered on Grasker, he slices forward anytime the fiend seems ready to slash a claw against the one bearing the symbol with the shining sword.
Trying to distract with his words as well, he taunts the creature "The Big R will have his vengeance on you, forsworn one, and delivered by a silly Gnome at that! Or don't you think you can take a little one like me down before my vengeance destroys you!"
Either his words or blade thrusts seem to distract the foe at least a tad from his comrade.
Serra uses his knightly skill to help aid the others, encouraging Eli to do his best against the horrifying creature.
Grasker tries to take advantage of the confuses, but the dried out old husk avoids his blade.
Jurin pulls his strike, swinging wide. If Beagan were taller, the blade would surely have sunk deep into his throat, but as it is, Jurin just... misses by a mile.
Beagan goes back to doing what he was so doing so well, distracting the creature and getting in the way. He taunts the heretic, and it turns at the last. Eli times his mighty swing with the others movements, catching the creature in the face and knocking it to dust!
As soon as Eli sees the horror fall to the floor, he returns outside to the others. "Alright. It is clear now to enter. Mind you, the place is a bit old, but it is defensible." Eli knocks lightly on the door.
He returns to the priest's body, picks it up, and brings him inside. Looking about, he spots the altar. He rests his hammer against the wall, and uses his sleeve to wipe off the dust from the surface of the altar, before laying the priest down.
Turning back to the group, Eli looks over the recent combatants. He moves to the clawed individuals. "Well, this is certainly not what I pictured when I envisioned you in a house of Ragathiel. You did well to stand your ground." Eli places his broad hand on Beagan's neck.
Eli almost forgets to remove his hand. He was your height, at least at one time, he was. Same fire in his belly, too. Eli blinks a couple of times, then brings his hand away. Turning to Grasker, he reaches out a hand as well.
If Grasker allows, Eli squeezes his arm, and pauses. Ah, no? Well, alright then. Eli shakes his head, and looks sadly at Grasker. "I'm sorry, Grasker. I can't seem to bring forth any further energies with which to mend you. Perhaps if we were to rest a bit, yes?"
Serra bends over, puffing and huffing and trying to catch his breath after the fight.
*huffa*
*puffa*
*phew*
"That was a nasty one. I ain't heard tell of one of them in years. Beagan, he was one of you at one time?" Serra asks, then clarifies. "No, I don't mean a gnome, but a follower of the Big R?"
Serra finally gets around to addressing Ely, while trying to adjust places on his armor where it is chaffing painfully.
"I think you saved us. Your magical protections kept the things claws from me. Thank you...and I'm sure glad you came in with your hammer."
Catching his breath, Serra looks around the room.
"No wonder he went mad, cooped up in here."
Perception
Two vials lay nestled within the dust that remains of the huecuva, as well as a small gold ring.
Without the unholy horror to distract them, the unwholesome air of this once sacred place becomes more evident. Broken benches, shattered holy lamps, and the shredded remnants of Ragathien scripture litter the floor. Still, the bones of the structure are sound, and with a little devotion, it could be returned to its original purpose, either to Ragathiel, or another deity, should that be preferred.
Jurin shudders as the thing collapses.
"Mad, mad, seeing things she was. Thought we were here to talk about angels, really she was just obsessed with bagels. Nasty things, all hard dough."
Jurin walks over to Serra.
"Think you're going to make it Serra? Forgot to check on your squire, yes? Disappeared in the discussion, probably looking for a cake to feed you. Honey, right?"
Anevia helps Aravashnyel into the temple. Her face falls as she sees the current condition. She tries to speak but her voice catches and she limps out to the antechamber, sitting heavily onto the bench with her head in her hands.
Horgus catches Aravashnyel before he can run into anyone. He grunts and glares after Anevia, grumbling beneath his breath. "Well! Not well done. Not well done at all. I suppose we'll have to rest here now?!?"
"What? Stop it! I'm fine, Horgus, isn't it? Yes, well, just lead me to a wall. Where are we? What was all of the noise?"
The creature seemed to turned back towards the taunting Gnome just as Eli's hammer smacks into the dried one, causing him to swallow hard in anticipation. As the clawed creature falls into dust, Beagan stares for a moment, and then staggers back, holding himself up by leaning on the altar.
"Ouch."
"But this is such a sad place, isn't it?"
Eli smiles broadly at Serra. "You are kind. I think for our fortune in falling in fellowship, we should be thankful. I am as grateful for the company. Wouldn't have made it this far, alone." Eli leans against the altar, and joins Serra in looking about the building.
Eli goes about bringing broken benches back to whole as best he can.
"Give me some time, and you'll have something to rest on shortly." He finds himself unable to do anything serious to the wood with his magic weaves, so turns to tapping together what he can.
When he tires of that, he turns his attentions to the ripped scriptures, and whiles away some time piecing them together, then knitting them whole.
Leaning against the altar for support, he looks closely at it as he regains this breath and whatever wits he has.
When Eli's large hands cover his little neck, he feels a surge and then another of rather painful re-invigoration. "Ughh.. oooh... Eli, not only do you know stuff, but you can massage away the pain." He reaches and stretches, feeling much, much better, with only a couple of fresh scratches left.
"Beagan, he was one of you at one time?"
"I think so. Or, at least I thought so at first. When I asked him if he followed the Big R, I think he said yes. But then he seemed to say he was failed, or we'd be forsaken. And he didn't act like a servant of Liberty..." Unless his goal was to liberate us from our bodies.
Serra smiles when he sees his squire is safe. There's a good lad.
"Indeed, Kastor, indeed. But, as a knight, you'll learn to bring light to the places like this...to cleanse the taint and restore the good. You must remember Kastor that you're now on path to do good in this world. And not let the darkness get you down, but to use it as an opportunity to create more good in the world."
I think my mother would have liked to hear that.
* * *
Serra sniffs at the vials.
Perception to ID
Perception to ID
* * *
"Where are we? What was all of the noise?"
He bows slightly as he makes a slow, serious, steady report to the wise Elf.
"Sire, we are in what appears to be a ruined temple, I believe dedicated to the Lord Ragathiel. A most foul deathly fiend attacked the truth, but our companions sent him back to dust. Amidst the dust-covered ruins, there are winged symbols, an altar, and... " his heretofore very calm, even voice begins to rise with a little excitement "... a basin with water that seems to clean tarnished holy things with a sizzle-pop-fire!"
After the battle Grasker will sheathe his sword and set down his scratched up shield. He will take Elyanias's hand in a firm grasp when offered. "Well battled, Eli. We are kept alive by your mighty assistance...and Cole's practical arsenal. I would trust myself to his care beyond the wall, for certain."
Hearing Beagan summarize the situation, Grasker looks for the attention of the gnome and Jurin. "Beagan your discovery gives me an idea. Jurin, may I see that tarnished holy symbol, in ... making similar to my own?" Grasker tries to mimic the associations and symbolic rich language of Jurin as he talks.
If gifted with the item he will collect some small amount of basin water on a cloth and attempt to clean the tarnished symbol of old blood, taking care not to foul the font.
Coming back inside, he asks for time to take a short rest. "Horgus, it was a sad showing. We are poorly prepared to overcome undead fortified with evil like that priest. I would request some moments to pray on what has occurred and fortify us for what may come."
If the group is fine with this Grasker will fold up the arms of the twice dead priest and lay out the two holy symbols. He will squeeze any remaining drops of font water to bead forth from his cloth and anoint the skull with a basic sword-like symbol. Then he will pray for a swift and summary divine judgement on the fallen one, and guidance for the survivors.
He bows slightly as he makes a slow, serious, steady report to the wise Elf.
"Sire, we are in what appears to be a ruined temple, I believe dedicated to the Lord Ragathiel. A most foul deathly fiend attacked the truth, but our companions sent him back to dust. Amidst the dust-covered ruins, there are winged symbols, an altar, and... " his heretofore very calm, even voice begins to rise with a little excitement "... a basin with water that seems to clean tarnished holy things with a sizzle-pop-fire!"
"Is it in a font, perhaps with a holy symbol worked either into the holder, or into the basin itself" The elf muses. "It could be true holy water, though how it remained so..pure... so close to such an evil...." Hope colors his tone, though without his sight, he is less than useful in the clean up.
Coming back inside, he asks for time to take a short rest. "Horgus, it was a sad showing. We are poorly prepared to overcome undead fortified with evil like that priest. I would request some moments to pray on what has occurred and fortify us for what may come."
"Yes, well... err, I suppose, for prayer." Somewhat gruffly, Horgus nonetheless leaves Grasker to his prayer.
Serra holds the first flask down for Kastor to sniff.
"Smell that, Kastor? Feel the way it tickles the nose? That probably means it's for healing. This other one here is different. We'll see if anyone else gets that," Serra shoos Kastor aside so he can talk to the adults.
"Sir Beagan, this potion might heal you now or later if you need it. This other potion, I have yet to identify. Does anyone else want to look?" Serra asks the group while Grasker prays.
Serra takes the time to remove his scale armor and look it over, his skin rubbed red in several places, a few folds of man fat peeking out from undergarment.
He spends a bit of time splashing water from his waterskin, trying to remove some of the dust. He seems greatly relieved for the rest.
"Well battled, Eli. We are kept alive by your mighty assistance...
"Well, thank you. Something tells me that I'll be returning the compliment in no time at all, by the strength of your handshake." Eli smiles at Grasker.
When Grasker is finished at present in his conversation with Horgus, he steps in. "Prayer, you say? Master Beagan holds dear his Ragathiel. To whom do you pray, pray tell?" Eli listens intently to Grasker's words of prayer to confirm what Grasker says.
...
Eli looks up intermittently from his minor mends, and watches Serra in his words and actions. He looks at each Fallen in the room, looking for anyone else to confirm the presence to whom Serra speaks. Not interested in needing to clench his jaw a second time today, Eli says nothing to the knight.
Eli's brows perk up, and he begins rummaging through his pockets. "Is anyone hungry? There was a vendor just off the square. Lovely smells. Smart of him, with the fan, and all. He drew several folk in, including me." Eli produces a handful of salted and spiced almonds. He looks them over, and extends them to the others. "They seem to have avoided the dust altogether." He takes one, and chews it briefly, before nodding, and offering more enthusiastically.
Hearing Serra talk to this 'Kastor,' the Gnome squints to make sure he doesn't see any sign of an invisible squire. Remembering Eli's advice, he bites his tongue before he opens his mouth. As his father would say, his feyan nature seems to have stirred up enough excitement for one day.
"Sir Beagan, this potion might heal you now or later if you need it."
"There's a spot here in my bandolier. Unless Grasker needs it now, I'll keep it safe." Thanks to the sharp claws, he realizes he'll need to stitch up the pouches sewn onto his leather sash as well as several pieces of his leathers.
He tries to assist Eli's efforts, attempting to tidy and mend, but his attention keeps wander to see what Grasker is doing with the bound and gagged man. And then the wise one speaks of food, and he opens his pack. "I've got enough for everybody, at least for one meal, if anyone is hungry." The days events haven't left him with much of an appetite. "Kyonin dried greens, Dwarven rock munch, Halfling heavenly cakes, and Druman forever jerky." He shrugs. "I was saving a nice variety, but I'm guessing we aren't picking berries any time soon." At least doling those out might lighten his pack some.
If the group is fine with this Grasker will fold up the arms of the twice dead priest and lay out the two holy symbols. He will squeeze any remaining drops of font water to bead forth from his cloth and anoint the skull with a basic sword-like symbol. Then he will pray for a swift and summary divine judgement on the fallen one, and guidance for the survivors.
"A curative drink would take the edge off these nasty wounds, Beagan. I'd prefer to save my spells should we need them when fighting the array of evil that festers in these cave tunnels."
Cole looks on as the ragtag group chats away merrily in the temple/crypt. He gathers his arrows and frowns at the broken ones. He munches on some food thoughtfully and drinks a little from his waterskin.
I hope we're not down here long. At this rate we'll be needing supplies in just a few days.
"I think resting here an hour or so is fine but we should move on then. No knowing how deep we are and our supplies are not endless."
Cole has a look at the potion.
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Jurin will hand the defaced holy symbol to Grasker as requested.
"Serra, are you sure you're feeling alright?"
As food is doled out, Jurin will scan his pack for offerings.
"I didn't bring anything, but we left all that bacon behind. And there should be some bread in here, not much of a bakery otherwise."
Serra fights his initial instinct to run over to the offered food, instead glaring at his belly fat and the pain that it is causing him. After taking a few steps toward the food, Serra instead does 10 toe touches, as if that might fix all the chaffing issues with his armor forever.
Ah, neverbother, Serra. It will soon be over.
Serra politely declines the offer of food and focuses on re-donning his armor when Grasker looks ready to move along.
When his armor is adjusted, Serra will slap back on his pack and move to check on his charge, Ara-vashnyel.
"Ara, how are you? Did you hear about the huecuva inside? A terrible thing, it was. By and by, would you happen to be good at sniffing potions? We got one and this gold ring from inside, we couldn't place it. " Serra asks, pondering.
"Do you want to know the strange thing, Ara? Listen to this...the inside of the building is completely trashed and broken. Everything is destroyed...but two vials. One of these vials held a pure healing liquor...something that is the bane and poison to the huecuva, yet it kept it whole. Is that an act of luck? Or mercy? Of chance? What are the chances that this creature could live in there for years but never destroy the one object of use to us?"
Serra scratches his head, pondering the mystery.
* * *
"Serra, are you sure you're feeling alright?"
"I'm fine, Jurin. Just getting used to my armor. It's tough being a knight," Serra replies, something coming to his mind. "Jurin, I thought you left for coming up here long before I did. How...uh...how..."...did you survive on your own? How did no one drive you off yet? How are you not dead yet? "...how have you spent the last few months?"
"I think resting here an hour or so is fine but we should move on then.'
"If possible, I'd prefer to rest here, and perform my morning oblations to the Big R in a place once dedicated to him. But if you think it's more important to keep moving... I don't know how much the concept of morning matters down here in any case."
Beagan gladly hands the curative potion to Grasker so the swordsman can conserve his spells, and watches as Jurin hands him the tarnished symbol as well.
That reminds the Gnome Ara-vashnyel's question about symbols around the font, so Beagan takes a good long look at the 'pure' water basin surrounded by dust, in particular looking for any symbols or inscriptions, and describes anything he finds to the Elf.
When his armor is adjusted, Serra will slap back on his pack and move to check on his charge, Ara-vashnyel.
"Ara, how are you? Did you hear about the huecuva inside? A terrible thing, it was. By and by, would you happen to be good at sniffing potions? We got one and this gold ring from inside, we couldn't place it. " Serra asks, pondering.
"Do you want to know the strange thing, Ara? Listen to this...the inside of the building is completely trashed and broken. Everything is destroyed...but two vials. One of these vials held a pure healing liquor...something that is the bane and poison to the huecuva, yet it kept it whole. Is that an act of luck? Or mercy? Of chance? What are the chances that this creature could live in there for years but never destroy the one object of use to us?"
Aravashnyel listens, at first politely, and then with more and more interest. "I can but try, Sir Serra."
"It smells of myrrh, and healing. Yes, a potion of curing, for light wounds, if I'm not mistaken. As for why, I can only imagine that whatever god once called this place sacred didn't give up until the very end. Something to think about. If I were more religiously inclined... but alas, Desna and I have only a fleeting relationship, more's the pity. Never any time...but perhaps it would be worth making the time, in times like these..." He falls into a quiet contemplation as Serra moves on to a conversation with Jurin, humming an Elven lullaby beneath his breath.
That reminds the Gnome Ara-vashnyel's question about symbols around the font, so Beagan takes a good long look at the 'pure' water basin surrounded by dust, in particular looking for any symbols or inscriptions, and describes anything he finds to the Elf.
Within the basin of the bowl is a clear symbol much like the one Beagan draws upon his arm every morning.
Grasker's attempts to cleanse the holy symbol with the water from the font bear fruit, or rather quick licks of flame that eat away the demonic goat face in mere seconds, leaving the Iomedaen holy symbol purified once again.
Grasker will drink down the potion, and feel fully recovered from doing so.
Scooping up the two holy symbols, he will wear his discreetly again. Fortified and prepared he will help with any remaining tasks of the bunker.
Grasker casts to see if anything glows, like the ring or the holy symbol. Unfortunately he is not trained in puzzling out the details of magical artifacts, though he will call attention to anything worth later investigation.
"Beagan, I will help clean and re-confirm this temple to Ragathiel if you want to do so."
Amongst other tasks he will look for some small pebbles to pick up.
When there is a moment Grasker will approach Cole to talk about fighting undead. "We are fortunate that you traveled through town in such a well prepared state. While I am more familiar with human opponents, I felt inspired to prepare an enchantment versus undead. How are you with thrown weapons?"
Grasker will describe magic stone to Cole and see if he would be interested in that option once they resume scouting.
"Grasker thank you. Magical stones huh? Sounds like a good plan if my arrow supply begins to falter or we require magical aid (of which I have none). Thank you."
He watches Serra not eat and notes it.
"Serra now is not the time to skip a meal. We need all your strength for the fights ahead. Please... reconsider."
Once the party has rested, respelled, and rededicated he suggests again moving on.
"I do not think we should stop here an entire day. It must be only lunch now. We should at least press on the afternoon. I have about two days food for all of us thanks in part to that pack I found - but that's really not a lot if we only travel quarter days. Please let us keep moving."
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"Grasker, you might want to keep this as well. The Elf believes it is another potion like the one you consumed," Serra offers, handing Gras the second vial. "I'm afraid that I'm not really good at consecrating, but my squire and I will help if you can tell us what you need."
Serra straightens his scale mail, trying to cover his paunch and look like an able sanctifier-helper.
"Serra now is not the time to skip a meal. We need all your strength for the fights ahead. Please... reconsider."
Serra looks longingly at the food, taking a step towards before stopping himself.
Do you need to eat more, fatso?
You'll be dead soon, might as well save it for those who might live.
Serra fights some internal demons.
What would your father do? Something better than eat.
What would your mother do? Help others.
And what do you want to do? Eat for yourself. Geez. You make me sick.
Serra's face squishes into a look of self loathing.
"No thanks, Cole. A knight doesn't need to eat while others might go hungry."
Hearing both Cole and Serra speak of the scarcity of food, he only chokes down half of a strip of Druman forever jerky, slipping the remaining bites back into his pack. As food is distributed, he makes sure the wounded companions receive some of his better fare, providing Ara-vashnyel with a Kyonin ration and Anevia with tasty Halfing bites.
Addressing Ara-vashnyel,"The basin with the special water does have a symbol like Ragathiel's at the bottom. And it seemed to have the same, firey cleansing effect on the defaced icon Jurin and Grasker retrieved from the crazed, bound man."
He seems to remember the Elven lullaby, and when not otherwise occupied, sings it softly in Elvish to accompany Ara's humming.
"Beagan, I will help clean and re-confirm this temple to Ragathiel if you want to do so."
"That is most gracious of you, firey swordsman. Given the taint we've discovered in these caverns, restoring anything that supports the light may be of help..." to us or to any who may be unfortunate enough to follow.
Began will follow the example provided by Eli and Grasker, and tidy and restore the sanctuary as he can. At the altar that bears the fallen, forsworn Ragathielite, he will utter a prayer. "Lady of Stings, trick only the taint into departing."
"Grasker. A moment if you will. The potion you just consumed. May I have the empty vial, please?" If given, Eli proceeds to the basin, and fills it with the purified water found therein. He returns to Grasker, and hands the full vial to him. He pats him on the arm warmly.
"Let's see if that brings us luck. Under the wing of Ragathiel, I should think it would."
Eli contributes in whatever way is asked of him during Grasker's and Beagan's reconfirming. Eli nods approvingly as Beagan produces a cleansing magic about the place. "That is a very nice effect you bring, master Beagan. Might I ask that of you every so often? It would make me more bearable to travel alongside." Eli raises an arm, and assesses the sweatpatch for yeasty odors.
In silent negotiation, Eli extends a hand over Beagan's claw slashes, and passes it over, once, twice, and sees the reasonable Mends take hold.
"Cole, I think that you are spot on. The air here, it's quite constrictive. It is not a proper place in which to stay." Eli pops another almond, and looks to the others.
"At the risk of sounding like a bard with a playlist of one song, how fares the leg, Anevia?"
As Beagan, Grasker and the others continue to clean and put the temple back in order, the feel of the place also eases. Still, it does not come easy. After an hour, the place looks and feels considerably better, though it is still a ways away from reconsecrated.
Using the blessing of the Wasp, Beagan stretches his fingers and magically starts to unsoil, shine, and polish away as much grime as he can, starting with Eli’s less-than-pristine outfit, and following up on his own bloodied leathers. After taking care of any living beings who need a spiff-up, the swish and switch of his fingers slip some of the dust and grime from the defiled temple.
For about the same time Grasker is praying, the Calistrian magic clears dirt and grime.
Serra groans inwardly, wishing he could remove his armor while working, but maintains a steadfast mien as he works to clean the chapel.
As Serra works, he takes time to explain things to Kastor as they come up.
"There's a good lad. We fought a huecuva in here. Remind me to tell you the tale of the one that was defeated in Falcon's Hallow at another time. For now," Serra enters his instructory pose, one that his father used to take with him, "For now, let us discuss this chapel and Ragathiel."
"Now Kastor, there are a great many gods in the world...some are good, like Iomedae, or perfect like Irori," Serra holds up his holy symbol for the lad to see. "Others are evil and wicked. They have names like Norgorber or Groetus. Ragathiel is one of the good ones...an empyreal lord at that. And he has a strange tale too."
Serra gathers his breath as so to instruct the child properly while he works to scrub the walls.
"Ragathiel, he of five wings, is brave Sir Beagan's god. Rumor has it that Ragathiel is the child of a devil...who denied his father's darkness and moved to the light. For this, he lost one of his wings..but still attained divinity based on his prowess and courage in battle. That is why his holy symbol has a bloodied wing in it. To honor his courage and sacrifice for the light."
Serra spits on his rag and puts some bartending elbow grease into cleaning off a bloodspot.
"Yes, Ragathiel rose up against his father, Kastor...and while it's usually bad to disobey one's parents, in this case it was the right thing to do. And, the lesson here, Kastor is that you should be nice to your parents...well, not *your* parents Kastor...who seem to have abandoned you. If you find them, you should do the knightly thing and trump up charges against them so you might lawfully have them executed. You're a good boy who deserved better."
Serra will work as long as Sir Beagan needs.
Eli starts to obsess over the broken benches, trying his best to restore them to a functional state. The more he focuses on the woodworking, the more he craves the normalcy he finds in the tasks of the restoration.
Eli depends mostly on Grasker and Beagan to make the call for what constitutes reconsecration. He ponders what Father Marcus would say.
"This could take several hours more, wouldn't you say, master Beagan? Can you be more specific? It might make Cole more comfortable about our investment in this remote shrine to your god. I, myself, will be willing to see this through to your satisfaction." Eli smacks his thumb, hisses, and keeps trying to wedge the bench leg more securely.
After an hour or so the place appears much better, though it is not yet ready for any reconsecration.
Jurin appears fairly lucid as he responds to Serra.
"It would be hard, being a knight. Especially this night. Don't worry Serra, you can do it. Where have I been? Everywhere. I got here eventually. Or did I? Hard to say, Serra, hard to say."
And just like that it's gone.
"Clean the floors and clean the doors, clean the walls and clean the halls. You should ask Serra about this part, he can cleanse temples like you wouldn't believe."
With that he will go outside and look at the painted walls of the outside, then scan for an easy place to climb onto the roof of the temple.