For decades, demons have ruled the Worldwound. Fearsome fiends of every stripe—their mottled skin harder than iron, teeth like serrated blades, and eyes burning with Abyssal flames—roam the ruined lands that were once known as Sarkoris, leaving their mark wherever they go.
Four crusades have attempted to cleanse the land, but each seems to meet a worse fate than the last. Were it not for the line of magical wardstones along the eastern and southern borders, the demons would have long ago overrun north-central Avistan and beyond.
The Fourth Crusade hasn't really ended as much as petered out, yet some refuse to accept that. Amid crippling shortages and record lows in morale among the crusaders, the Mendevian war effort teeters on the brink of collapse. Though the demonic occupation of the Worldwound is growing, as is corruption among the crusaders, a dwindling minority of paladins and priests maintain that the Fourth Crusade is still vibrant and alive, and that the turning point in the war is only a few days away.
On the front lines of this 4th crusade is Kenabres. Kenabres is a city of glory, but not one of spotless virtue. The Mendevian Crusaders riding out from the city have slain countless demons, and many of them have been carried back to town on their shields to be interred in the catacombs beneath the Cathedral of Saint Clydwell. However, some of these same crusaders—many of them even immortalized in the Hall of Heroes—spent years hunting supposedly demon-tainted faiths and burning at the stake cultists and innocent Mendevians alike. The frequency and intensity of these pogroms have diminished, but the dark history of Kenabres remains ever-present in the minds of its leaders and many of its citizens. Kenabres hosts camps of crusaders who have come from all across the continent to battle demons. Though many of these crusaders are pure-hearted and noble of spirit, others are little more than fortune-seeking mercenaries. Still, none can deny the good deeds done by the knights of Kenabres under the direction of their zealous, strategically brilliant leader Hulrun.
For several weeks, excitement has been building in Kenabres because Armasse is coming! Traditionally an opportunity for scholars and priests to come together to study the lessons of history from wars past, since Aroden's death, this holy day has become more about training commoners in weaponry, choosing squires, and ordaining new priests. Over time, Armasse has grown to encompass jousting competitions, mock duels, battle reenactments, and other festival events. In Kenabres, the festival (which takes place on 16 Arodus) is eagerly anticipated, for it provides distractions from the horrors of being on the front line of the war. Smiles on faces normally marred by downcast eyes and furrowed brows do wonders for city morale in the weeks leading up to the event. Armasse is a citywide celebration, but the majority of the event, including its jousting matches and other entertainments, takes place at Clydwell Plaza, just west of the cathedral.
It is here that the story begins, with you in attendance near the cathedral's facade— you've been lucky enough to get good spots to observe
the opening ceremonies at noon.
Raven led her small group into Kenebres, the armed camp of a town on the Sellen River, and the end of the road for her. She had noticed the sizes of the crusader groups coming up from the Inner Sea to the fortress/city had been dwindling as the Fourth Crusade petered out. Fewer and fewer men, with their egos and religion flashing in the sun like their shiny armor, came here these days. More and more of the dark and mysterious vagabonds that follow in an armies wake, like carrion birds after a battle, made up the groups she brought here to the front lines of the ongoing war on demonkind.
This group had a mix of both -- a paladin, his peach fuzz stubble barely growing on his face even after days of hard travel, and a pair of what could only favorably be described as rogues, "Brigands, more like" she thought uncharitably. She knew they were villains who had been measuring the holy warrior the whole trip, looking for ways to take him (and perhaps her) when they weren't on their guard. Conscious of the danger, she had not given them an opening, and the paladin, who was likely unaware, had been martial enough to scare them off a frontal assault. And so they had made it to Kenebres without incident if not without friction.
She had liked the paladin. His self-assured nature, good looks, and blond locks a contrast to her dark hair, eyes and demeanor. Her disposition was more quiet and withdrawn, never one to be comfortable speaking in front of, or with, others. Her innate shyness meant she'd never act on the feelings she felt for a pretty boy like him. Never tell him how she ached to be loved and leave this solitary life (her ill mother didn't really count)behind her.
And so her only words to him were perfunctory - details of camp and trail life, orders and routine, and not the flirtatious rambling that she'd seen other girls her age use to entice young men. She had not the social grace or experience to trap a boy, even if her dark eyes and lithe body made her attractive to them.
Raven noticed with disdain that the town was bustling, no bursting, this trip. Tents were pitched outside, a jousting tilt was set up near the main road, and vendors and market families crowded the road, piling into town. She cursed under her breath slightly, "Armasse, of course..." she had forgotten the time of year, but he sights reminded her of the holiday the crusaders took every year from demon fighting.
She sighed. It just meant a good inn and warm meal would be more expensive and the additioinal cost would eat into the razor-thin margins she made from guiding this lot.
At the town gate, she accepted payment from the paladin, with a wistful smile, sorry to be parting from him. She wanted to tell him to leave, knowing his fate would be like so many of the others she had brought to Kenebres -- just grist for the mill -- returning to his Andoran home as ashes, or more likely, a letter informing his worried parents of his unfortunate end. He passed a quick blessing from his Goddess to her. His perhaps lingering a bit longer than they should, then strode off proudly to meet his fate.
She also took the few coins from the roguish pair, (noting the looks the hungry looks they gave her), she parted from them and went to look for her favorite inn, checking behind her frequently for any sign of the pair of bandits.
It is here that the story begins, with you in attendance near the cathedral's facade— you've been lucky enough to get good spots to observe
the opening ceremonies at noon.
You arrive at the Inn and have a quick drink. You hear that the opening ceremony for Armasse begins near the cathedral pretty soon.
Orlando knelt on the wooden flooring, eyes closed and hand clutching his chest where he held a red bandage.
You have taken this fortress, fiend," He gasped, quivering with emotion, "But know this, with my last breath I call upon the GODS to witness the courage of the..."
He stopped and opened his eyes at the sound of people moving.
There was a thin smattering of applause as he observed his audience breaking up and moving towards the plaza where the ceremony was to be held... only a few minutes from now he realized.
He lept up, he hands gesturing wildly.
"Ladies! Gentlemen! Thank you for attending my reading of an excerpt from Septerius' 'The Ten Thousand'! I know you need to be away for the ceremony coming up, but please bear in mind I will be performing nightly at the Red Lance! Now I bid you a fond adieu!"
He bows deeply to the audience (who had mostly dispersed by now), before rolling up his painted canvas backdrop and jumping down from one of the small public side stages.
A newcomer to the fortified city, Orlando had never seen an Armasse celebration before, it being one of those things beneath his family while growing up. He wandered towards the plaza with the remnants of his audience to see what would happen next...
Tessai had learned from Darius to walk proud and with confidence, to shed away her own misconceptions regarding others' prejudices, and learn to live in accordance to what she has decided to pursuit for her life.
Shaking her head at her own thoughts, she cannot help but smile at how things have changed in recent years - her first conscious memory is of the rising sun filling her pit dark eyes, as she watched it from atop one of the outer roofs of the temple structure dedicated to Iomedae, surrounded by the now familiar smells of Kenabres.
She knows nothing of her life before that, except for the random nightmares filled with but glimpses of what was previously - darkness, piercing red eyes, screams, but above all a terrific, pervasive sense of dread. Truly it has almost fade into nothingness after he had taken her in, and brought her up as his own.
Darius had been a reference since the beginning - while she still ran wildly across the temple grounds, like a child beast from hell, immediately after being brought from the wilds, his voice was the only one able to soothe her, even if only momentarily. And he was there with her when she came off that roof.
Making sure her upbringing was exactly the same as any other child, was the best way he had found to make her feel exactly that - like any other. And that is why she now walked the streets of Kenabres unhindered by any burdens that may relate to her heritage, not bothered by the surprised looks at her tail, or the gawks at the sheer amount of combat implements she carries all about her.
Armasse... She shared the town's enthusiasm and bustle, which brought a spring to her step, as she carried her elegant and deceptively strong frame across the avenues and plazas, her light armour not impeding her movements, neither the multiple weapons she develop the habit of taking anywhere with her, even within town - "We are at WAR" - she would argue with Darius every time he tried to dissuade her from carrying all the arsenal with her everywhere she went. The twin maces rested easily at her hips, while the longspear and shield were strapped across her back. The morning star completes this positiely surprising array of weaponry, neatly acconditioned next to one of the light maces.
Yet, the female tiefling moves lightly as she approaches, and enters the fully packed inn looking for a drink, as most others around the place - with a few moments to spare before the opening ceremony proper begins, she decides to order a glass of good red wine, savoring it slowly, as well as the ambiance of the place, her attention eventually drawn to the man putting on a show across the room, on the other side of the inn - 'The Ten Thousand' - Tessai ponders while taking another drink from the tasty beverage - "Never heard of it"
A tall thin Elf male with eyes such a pale green they look colorless and pure white hair is heading for the cathedral's front. He pauses for a moment and lifts a piece of biscuit from his pocket to the brim of his red fez with a golden braid. The front of the fez is so worn it is almost see through. There is the sound of chittering from inside the hat and he smiles and says
Yes, Jobo I will remember to keep the braid from the front. You will have an excellent view of the festivities. Just remember that you need to hold the hat down.
Varn walks through the crowd seeing several elves among the revelers. Carefully moving so he avoids them. The pale eyes he was cursed with while not easy to recognize would cause him to waste time dealing with the annoying people. Time he needs to test his thesis on the effects of the damaged sections of the planes around the World Wound on the summoning of creatures. His colleges and professors said it was to dangerous but why learn the art of magic to just sit in a stuffy tower with manufactured wonders when there is a whole world of natural wonders to understand and explore.
Slowly wading through the crowd filling the streets of Kenabres, an imposing woman makes her way towards the cathedral. Taller than most women, and quite a few of the men running in the streets, she regards the chattering multitude with a mix of curiosity and bemusement, as if unused to be in a place with so many people at the same time.
Stopping for a moment, and casually resting a large, and by the look of it quite heavy, backpack on one shoulder, she checks if the rest of her equipment is in order. With swift and evidently practiced moves, she shakes the dust off her cloak, pats her pockets, and even sonorously punches her armor here and there (catching the attention of a few perplexed bystanders). Lastly, and with the utmost care, she pulls a little silver chain around her neck and regards the large silver medallion attached to it, of simple yet tasteful design, with the image of a blade carved in the center.
A tenuous smile appears on her lips, as she recalls the day of her departure from the clan, all of the tribe gathered, friends wishing her luck on her journey, the scouts and warriors advising on the safest path, and the elders nodding their approval for her quest.
And amidst all of them, her beloved mother and father, gifting her that same amulet and telling her to go and be strong, and realize her destiny.
Satisfied with her little inspection, the tall woman puts the backpack back on her shoulders, and looks around trying to figure out the quickest route to the cathedral.
"I need to hurry" She murmurs to herself, "I don't want to lose the beginning of the ceremony..." After a moment of hesitation, she dives back into the crowd.
The common room of her favorite inn was crowded, the guests looking to get a potent potable down before the Armasse ceremonies began at noon. Raven stopped just outside the inn to watch the last few lines of a bard's performance, long enough to see a heavily armed woman walk by "Was that a tail?" she thought, craning her neck to see for certain.
Looking into the crowded greatroom, Raven sighed. Being inside was uncomfortable enough, being inside with all those loud, smelly, strange people was going to be unbearable. She tossed her hair, and turned out of the doorway. "I guess I'll get a good spot for the ceremonies instead.".
Following the bard who had just finished his show, Raven ended up on his left shoulder, watching from the plaza.
Aeron let out a deep breath and wiped his brow as the lingering sounds of metal upon metal finished ringing out. He slipped the hammer back into the front pocket of his heavy leather apron and glanced at the blade he had just finished, hints of an orange glow still lingering at the tip of the blade. A flash of steam and an angry hiss followed as he dunked the hot blade into the barrel of water beside him. A moment later he pulled the sword from the water and glanced down the length of it...
A little curved, but it would still cut flesh. It needed an edge and then it would be ready for service. Aeron carried the sword towards the whetstone nearby when he heard the sound of his mother's voice. "Aeron! Have you forgotten the time, son?"
He turns towards the tall ulfen woman with a frown and then he remembered. Of course! Armasse! The ceremony would be starting soon and he wanted to make sure he was close enough to see it clearly this time. Granted... the massive ulfen man stood taller than most men he knew. "Oh, mother! I forgot, thank you." He leaned the sword against the whetstone stand and rushed over to pull the woman into a hug. His long, muscled arms encircled the poor woman as she laughed and gasped at the same time.
She pushed her giant of a son away. "Now go, before you miss the ceremony." She watched Aeron duck underneath the roof of their small smithing shop and disappear into the crowd outside, still wearing the leather apron. She could see the outer edge of the scar on the left side of his temple as his thick blonde hair fell forward when he ducked.
Despite the crowded streets, Aeron made excellent time as he made his way towards the cathedral; it was the spot he and his father had always gone. That was... until father was killed last year. Aeron's mother and father had come to Kenabres from their ancestral lands of the Linnorm Kings when he was very young. It was now his home.
Absently his left hand came upon and brushed across a scar on his left temple. He'd never forget that fateful day all the years ago. The day that made him a simpleton... His right hand closed into a fist so tight his knuckles began to turn white.
His attention was diverted suddenly when he saw a very tall and armored woman suddenly stride into the crowd in front of him. For the moment he puts aside all thoughts of the ceremony to watch the large woman... an oddity. It was enough to capture his attention as he followed behind her, wondering where she was from and what had brought her to Kenabres.
Armasse officially begins at noon, with the blessing of the festival by Lord Hulrun himself, ruler of Kenabres. The crowd gathered in Clydwell Plaza quiets as the aged inquisitor takes the stage, clad in shining, resplendent armor. He clears his throat, and is just about to speak when a bright light shines from the west, as if the sun were rising from the wrong direction. Hulrun's shadow is huge and distorted across the cathedral's facade and there is a moment of silence and confusion. A moment later, the sound of a thunderous explosion rips through the air and earth, along with a violent tremor. The crowd shouts and most are knocked down.
To the west, the fortress known as the Kite—the location of Kenabres's wardstone—has vanished. In its place, a brilliant plume of red fire, lightning, and smoke erupts into the heavens. A moment later, a powerful roar accompanies a welcome sight rising from the crowd— Kenabres's greatest guardian, the great silver dragon Terendelev, who has defended the city from the demon invasion for the past 200 years and who had until this moment been attending the opening ceremony disguised as a human returns to dragon form and takes to the sky.
Above, another form appears, as nightmarish as the dragon was breathtaking. A humanoid shape three times the size of any man, with skin coated in fire and lightning, gripping a flaming sword and whip. The creature’s identity was immediately obvious: Khorramzadeh the Balor! The Storm King of the Worldwound, had come to Kenabres!
At this moment demons begin to spawn all around you! With the wardstone gone they can teleport into the city at will! As demons pour into the streets massacring the defenders and civilians alike, the dragon and the balor lord clash above. You find yourself transfixed and watching the battle in the sky while ignoring all around you. The balor cuts deep into Terendelev's body while the dragon rends with claws. They exchange a few more blows and become grappled together and they fall. The titanic duo spirals downward toward the crowd.
The sight of the dragon and the balor smashing into the facade of the Cathedral of St. Clydwell is one no witness would ever forget. At this moment however you are awakened from your stupor as a titanic demon erupts from the far end of the plaza, reducing several buildings to ruins as it smashes into this world.
The rift it creates shoots across the plaza, and there is no escape—it opens below your feet, angling into darkness. As you fall, the dragon notices your plight. Though death is standing over her, she seized this final chance to save a few more souls. After she utters a few arcane words and stretched out a bleeding talon, you feel her magic take hold of you, slowing your plummet into the darkness as if you were feathers falling into a pit.
Yet the fall remained as inexorable, and as you drift downward into the depths, the last thing you see is the Storm King standing before the silver dragon, his sword lashing out and cleaving full through her neck. As her severed head fell, the rift above you slammed shut, and the light of the world above is gone.
After a moment you hit the ground softly as the dragon's spell stays in effect even after her death. It's pitch black but you realized you aren't alone. Other survivors fell with and were also saved.
Tessai watched the whole scene in complete awe, the pools of darkness that make her eyes wide open, taking in the whole dimension of what was taking place a mere hundred yards away.
The screams all around had shaken her from the stupor long enough to realize that Kenabres was under attack - "We are at WAR" - a brief memory of what she had repeated so many times to her "father" - Darius... Where could he be now? - she wanted to run across the streets to meet him at the temple, but she could not take her eyes away from the terrifying battle above - she could still not believe that Terendelev had shown its true form, but the presence of Khorramzadeh was even more overwhelming.
The fact that a Demon Lord had come to Kenabres could only mean that dire events were about to take place... And then the fall, it seem to last for ages, her eyes trying to become attached to the fast fading light above, she descended into darkness, amongst screams and ruin.
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The fall caused no damage, but it sunk her heart deeper than she ever thought possible. Eyes adapting to the surrounding darkness, immediately looking for others, she could see their shapes in close proximity, and spoke in a strong voice - "Hail to others! I am Tessai of Kenabres! Are you all uninjured?" - she questioned, moving forward to the closest person she can see in the pitch blackness.
The thunderous explosion almost throws Selka off her feet, but she barely manages to regain her balance in time and not fall down.
She looks around at the plaza, horrified and confused as people scream and cry for help. When the great dragon Terendelev reveals herself and takes to the skies, Selka tilts up her head to look at the majestic creature, hoping whatever is happening the dragon can help remedy.
Her tenuous hope is swiftly crushed when the horrendous form of the Balor Lord appears above Terendelev, but even that thought is trumped when hordes of demons start erupting from all around the plaza in Kenabres.
'No... NO! Kenabres is under attack! We... We must organize a defense, form a line of resistance! I need to rea-' Her line of thought is brutally halted when an enormous demon erupts at the far side of the plaza, and the ground shakes and opens under her feet...
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Darkness. Pain. Silence.
Then a voice reaching her ears. Managing to stand up and orientate herself, Selka turns towards the voice, trying to discern something in the dark. "Selka. Selka Thunivhen. No, I don't think I'm injured, no... What about you? Are you in need of healing? I can help if you do!"
Listening to the voice in the dark, and afterwards noticing the dot of light oming to life some feet away, Tessai heads in that direction - "Well met Selka - I am uninjured also. I cannot explain it any better but... Terendelev saved me..." - she seems to hesitate for a moment, then she notices the symbol around the woman's neck - "I believe Iomedae's light has shone on me this day"
"Have you seen any others?" - she questions, her head turning all around to understand if they are alone in this dark place.
Sudden screaming panic fills the square. Varn grabs someone next to him and demands from the crying man.
What's going on?
The Wardstone's been destroyed, the demons are coming were all gonna die.
The man falls down crying and whimpering in fear. There is a sudden chittering from his hat.
Don't worry Jobo just stay safe I've got you. It will all be alright.
He looks up and sees the dragon losing the fight with the balor and turns his hat so Jobo can't see outside.
I have to do something I have to help some how. he first step if figuring out what I can do.
As he is studying the monsters and wondering what few of his meager spells might help the ground beneath his feet suddenly opens up and drags him down. He screams in terror until he feels the dragons spell wrap around him allowing him to fall safely.
Varn looks around in the darkness and spots others who survived the fall with him. He gets up and heads toward them as one of them creates light.
"No... At least not yet." Selka answers Tessai, concern clearly noticeable in her voice.
"But someone else must have survive the fall!" She adds after a few moments, "We should look around this... Place? Where are we anyway?"
When she hears steps approaching the two of them, she raises her open hand with the shining pebble in it, and shouts "Is there anybody there? Did you survive the fall too? Are you in need of help?"
Now that there is light you can get a good look at your surroundings. The ceiling and far walls of this vast cavern recede into darkness. On one side, the wall has collapsed in an enormous mound of rubble and here and there the arms or legs of victims who didn't survive the fall protrude.
Looking around you also spot shimmers of silver scattered around the floor of the cavern and realize they are silver dragons scales.
Nine survivors are scattered around the cavern. You six are fine but some of the other three were not as lucky.
Nearby a human girl in her teens calls for help, her is leg crushed under some rubble. She wears leather armor and still clutches her bow.
(Somewhat injured)
You hear someone moan in pain..."Who's there? Can someone make some light? I cant see anything!" says an elven man. You take a look at him and see that he is horribly burned all over especially his face and that his eyes are gone. You recall that he was very close to were the balor fell and he was struck by the flaming whip. (badly injured)
Another man, a middle-aged human gets up and dust himself off. He is dressed in rich garments showing him to be a noble of status. He walks up to Selka ignoring the wounded elf and the girl. "I was injured during the fall, you are a cleric correct? Heal me." He appears to have a few scratches. (slightly injured. 2 damage)
You can make a knowledge local to recognize these people.
In the back of the cavern, a disturbing shape looms. Nearly the size of a horse, what appears to be an immense black spider crouches silent and still on the ground.
Varn walks toward the others and looks at the three injured people trying to remember who they were. He sees the wounded Elf and feels a frisson of relief that the elf can't see what he is then a crushing layer of guilt at the mere thought of being happy at another's loss.
Guilt crushing him he looks away, Ignoring the whiny noble he sees the girl with her leg under the stones and takes out his crowbar and heads to her when he sees the spider and draws his bow.
There is a giant spider over there look out.
He moves to stand between the trapped girl and the beast.
As soon as the flash of light hit even before the resounding explosion, Raven was reaching for an arrow. When the blast came, she staggered, but soon had her bow readied as the silver dragon leapt for the sky. Awe-struck by it's majesty, she could only watch slack-jawed as the great beast took to combat with the Balor Lord.
When the nearby demons started porting in, Raven screamed soundless over the din and went to pick out the first target. Just as she sighted up and released the ground beneath her buckled and her arrow flew wildly with no base to support the shot.
Instead she fell, and awkwardly. Thankfully the dying spell of the dragon guardian allowed her to land gently, unhurt. Stunned for a moment, she took in the darkness of her surroundings, hearing voices. When the light appeared, she rose and gathered her gear heading in that direction.
AS the wounded people came into view, Raven stepped that way first, then hearing of the spider, she turned to face it.
"I have no great skill in healing injuries more than a scratch, but I can help keep that web weaver at bay."
Varn:
The spider lies very still which is strange when wounded prey is so close. You recognize it as an enormous black widow and thankfully it seems to be dead.
Orlando comes to himself standing in the utter darkness, wondering where he was and what had happened.
Then, he remembered. The explosion, the demons assault, the dragon flying, the two crashing into the cathedral... then the crack opening and dropping him into the abyss. And all he did through all that was scream and run like a civilian. His throat was still raw from it.
And the silver dragon... saved him? But why...
Then he heard a voice call out, then another. Survivors! He thought with relief. Then a pinpoint of light began to shine, revealing a large cavern. He remembered he could do something like that himself and quickly spoke the words of power and waived his hand to summon Dancing Lights around him. Then he saw the dead and injured.
Seeing the girl being attended to, he went to the elf to see what he could do, the lights slowly orbiting around him.
"I have light sir, but you have been injured across the face. Try not to touch it."
He sees the noble in passing, and idly wonders if he knows him.
Clearly the man is an impostor!
The elf seems to have calmed a bit but he still seems a bit stunned. "My eyes...I cant see..." he says realizing what has happened to him.
Gazing at the mage Aravashnial for a moment Varn turns back toward the girl and places the crowbar between the rocks on top of her legs.
He calls out
Please give me a hand here. I need some more muscle to get these rocks off.
Putting his whole body into it he strains at the bar.
"Hold on and I'll be back directly." Orlando speaks reassuringly before going over to help Varn.
And the playwright is extremely helpful somehow.
Just as Selka is opening her mouth to respond to the man rudely asking for help, she hears the voice of another survivor, warning them about the giant spider threatening them!
With other survivors raising their voices, and another light source appearing, Selka takes a few moments to look around and assess the situation.
With at least another survivor aiming shots at the spider, she decides her priority should be helping the wounded. She hastily makes way to the tall, thin elf asking for help and the handsome fellow already helping him and lends her won strength trying to lift the boulder.
You manage to get the girl out from under the rock and Selka lets out a pule of positive energy. The healing pulse heals the noble who seems content and helps reduce the pain for the girl and the elf partially healing their wounds. The girl's leg isn't fully healed and the damage seem pretty severe, it would take more than just plain healing to fix it. The same can be said for the elf's eyes no amount of healing magic will restore those only a potent regeneration spell would do.
"Thanks..." says the girl she looks at her leg and grimaces. "Does anyone have something to make a splint? she says.
"So we have a healer with us...I don't supposes you can restore my sight?" says the elf mage.
"Well then see to these two and then I shall need an escort back to the surface. I assure you that if I make it back safely you will be very richly rewarded."
"So we have a healer with us...I don't supposes you can restore my sight?"
Orlando grins sardonically
"I fear not sir. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Orlando Nedraid, Playwright and Actor. I know a few theatrical tricks, but nothing in the healing vein."...and then I shall need an escort back to the surface. I assure you that if I make it back safely you will be very richly rewarded."
"Of course milord! Ah, does milord know the way? I fear the way we came is blocked off..."
"Does anyone have something to make a splint?"
"Not offhand, but I'm sure something will turn up." Orlando looks around for something that will serve, his Dancing Lights moving around to light the area.
Nothing.
Kneeling next to the girl he just helped free he frowns at the damage to her leg.
I am sorry Aravashnial, if you are he the potent magic necessary to restore your site seems beyond all here. As for you miss I have no boards to splint your leg with but I have some rope if anyone can find some wood that fell from above.
Drawing himself up and looking the noble in the eye
I agree we need to get above ground and hopefully find some remanent of the city if only for protection. If not we need to get to one of the other cities and report the loss of the wardstone, Kenabres and and Terendelev and how the demons managed to destroy the wardstone.
After assisting in releasing the girl from under the rubble, Tessai turns her attention to the spider a few yards away, longspear firmly in hand.
Tessai turns again towards the girl, making her best effort to ignore the arrogant man's claims so far, as she believes more urgent matters need to be taken care of.
"Do not worry" - she offers kindly to the injured girl - "Lets make sure we can guarantee you are able to walk as comfortably as possible, and with the minimum effort possible on your leg - we will surely find a way to heal you completely as soon as we manage to get our bearings, and return to the surface. I will look for some wood. Wait here please"
Noticing the elf, confronting the arrogant one, she merely nods at him and smiles, while turning to the other man she had seen taking up a conversation with the injured girl about the splint - "Well met Orlando. I am Tessai. Have you had any luck finding any materials that can assist us in making a splint?"
Looking around the room, Tessai makes a mental note of the survivors - how many they are, and their general state at the moment.
Orlando grins back.
Well met indeed! No luck here so far, just rubble. All the light in the world and... nothing."
He throws his hands up.
"Any more such luck and I'll be reduced to searching those dead bodies." He motions vaguely at the pile of rubble that preceded them to the bottom.
Raven indeed tells the assemblage, "The spider is dead. I don't know why it's down here, but if there is one, there are likely more. Step carefully." She relaxes her bow, dropping the arrow into her quiver unshot.
Not being from Kenebres, Raven doesn't recognize any of the others, except for the bard she followed from outside the inn, and the girl with the tail. "And me, the outcast from the Forest. What an interesting mix. Desna chose strange fellows for me this fateful day."
Seeing that the trapped girl is now free, Raven begins searching the area around looking for any means of egress. As she does so, she realizes (for the first time) that she is actually underground, away from the open spaces, sky and stars, and green grass, she loves so well. As the claustrophobic state of their entrapment moves to the fore of her mind, Raven begins to breath more shallowly and quickly, fear starting to grip her.
You take a few minutes and find some wood and cloth and manage to fashion a decent stilt for the girl with the broken leg.
The elven mage seems to have composed himself and he takes some cloth from his satchel and ties it around his head as a bandage. "Well we had best get going, we cant be sure the demons wont find their way here. Those of you who can fight should explore ahead a bit but before that I would very much like to know everyone names and what skills you possess that could be useful. I am Aravashnial an expert on matters of demon lore and while my blindness cripples me I should still be able to summon creatures to aid you should you need it." says Aravashial
"I'm Anevia, I worked as a scout for the crusaders for several years before I got...before I stopped. I cant move as well as I usually do but I can still fire my bow well enough, disarm a trap or pick a lock" says Anevia.
"As you should already be aware, I am Horgus Gwerm. One of the richest men in eastern Mendev and certainly the most important person here. While I'm sure my guards will be making every effort to find me you're assistance at this time would be appreciated and as I mentioned rewarded. If one of you could lend me a rapier I am trained in it's use well enough to defend myself should the need arise, which I certainly hope it does not!" says Horgus
Aeron turns to stare at the massive gout of flame with awe, being so large he was not knocked to the ground like many of the others around him. His big blue eyes take in all the events taking place from the sudden appearance of the majestic dragon... a sight he has never before seen. And the horrible terror that fills him upon seeing the being that fuels the nightmares of most whom live surrounding the Worldwound. He stands transfixed to his spot as the mythic creatures do battle and continues to follow as they plummet to the ground.
Even the massive impact and the flying debris of the now demolished cathedral are unable to break through Aeron's stupor. It was not until the second massive demon broke into his world that Aeron suddenly found himself standing in the middle of a terrible waking nightmare. He had a moment for a single thought. "Mother!" he screamed and made to run for him home; however, the destruction wrought by the battle opened the earth beneath him and Aeron found himself falling. He does not understand when his descent suddenly slows, but he does understand the death of the dragon. The darkness swallows Aeron completely, seeping into his heart and soul...
It is several minutes after the fall that Aeron seems to come to. He finds himself curled up in a ball, sobbing about his mother; he fully believes her to be dead, or at least in mortal danger. He realizes he can hear voices and there's a light nearby... He gets to his feet and takes stock of the situation around him. He can do nothing to help the injured; however, he does see an outlet for his anger, the spider.
The large Ulfen warrior approaches the spider with his massive hammer in hand. Dead or not... he wanted to hurt something...
Aeron brings his hammer up over his head and with a terrible scream born of fury and fear he brings his hammer down upon the body of the spider with a horrible crunch! Carapace and fluids fly everywhere as the massive spider is pulverized by Aeron's attack. He stands there panting, covered in gore.
The spider corpses is torn open by the mighty blow and you find that several large maggots were inside the thing feeding on it. Angered by their meal being disturbed the two giant maggots who survived Aeron's attack go after Aeron.
One of them bites Aeron on the leg tearing at the flesh and dealing him 5 damage.
Post reaction, Roll init, post your action on your turn.
Orlando smiles at the assembled survivors as he doffs his hat (how is it still with him?) and bows before them theatrically.
"Well met my new friends! I am Orlando Ne..." He is cut off by a primal scream on another side of the cavern.
On his turn, he will take a double move towards the combat, drawing his sword along the way and taking his Dancing Lights along with him.
Aeron is unprepared for the sudden appearance of the giant maggots, especially when one of them lashes out at him and bites him on the leg! He grunts in pain and revulsion at the foul creatures. Unfortunately his surprise causes him to react to the maggots very slowly...
Recognizing the maggots from his classes Varn decides to not get any closer and looks to were he put down his bow.
Varn sees the giant maggots and quickly picks up his bow and draws an arrow looking for a clear shot. Failing to see one he aims carefully trying not to hit the Ulfen warrior.
Tessai moves towards the closest maggot, thrusting her longspear with full force.
Selka looks over with revulsion when the giant maggots burst from the corpse of the spider. When one of them bites a fellow survivor, she charges to his side to put the vile creatures down.
Noticing Selka's approach from the corner of her eye, Tessai catches again the glimpse of the Iomedaen sword symbol, and her thoughts race back to Darius, and her fears for his safety.
She cannot deny it though, the sight of the valorous woman striding forth is inspiring, and the goddess presence strong in her - she admires it.
Round 1_____
Heart in his throat from the yelling (demons?) Orlando is simultaneously relieved and disgusted at the appearance of large maggots attacking his fellow survivors.
for a possible piercing damage.
Orlando charges forward and kills a maggot using his rapier and then Varn shoots the other maggot and Tessai spears it to finish it off.
Orlando looks around wildly.
"What? Was that all of them?"
puting his bow back over his arm Varn turns to Orlando.
Well it was disgusting enough for me I assure you.
Turning to Selka he says
You are a cleric of Iomedae, yes. No that was rude, My name is Varn Sophas late of well
Varn looks up at the hole far above while trailing off.
Not this pit I would ask you to expend another charge of healing after we make sure these maggots are dead. The Mage and scout along with the bulky fellow over there need it.
Before she can even reach the wretched creatures, the fight is already over. Selka stops in her tracks and looks upon her newfound companions with manifest approval.
'They seem capable and strong. Even if some of us are wounded, we should be able to reach the surface if we work together... Assuming there IS a way to the surface through this blasted caves... Where in the Inheritor's name have we landed anyway?... Damn we need to make haste, there is a battle up there and the city is in grave danger!'
As Selka mulls over their situation, her thoughts linger on the recent fight, and in particular on how Tessai brought down the second maggot with a thrust of her longspear, not unlike the one she herself is wielding.
'She has a strong arm, that's for sure. And when we met, she gave thanks to the Inheritor... We seem to have something in common!... I wonder if sh-'
Her thoughts are interrupted when Varn addresses her. "Varn. Well met." She nods to the tall elf, "I'm Selka. I believe you are right, that might be for the best, I'll get to it right now."
Aeron glances around at the others as if seeing them for the first time since waking in this pit. He shoulders his hammer, foul slime still dripping from it onto the ground, and clamps his other hand over the free flowing wound on his leg with a grimace. "Thank you, friends. My name is Aeron."
He follows the others back to the three survivors and steps close to Selka at her beckoning. He lets out a sigh of relief as the healing magic works wonders to the wound on his leg. It was not fully healed, but nearly so. All that was left from the gaping rip was a small gash and the remnants of bleed seeping out to drip down his leg. He smiles innocently at Selka. "Thanks."
He then takes the time to take a closer look at his companions and to wipe clean some of the gore from his armor and weapon. He spots the strange woman with the tail and cocks his head to one side inquisitively. He blinks as he stares openly at the strange woman. "Why do you have a tail, m'lady?" The massive Ulfen man's tone is strangely innocent and curios.
Raven still searching the walls for a way out, reacts slowly to the cry of maggots, and by the time she turns and sees the danger, the wormy little things are done in.
She also smiles at the efficient dispatching of threats by those who coincidentally fell with her to this place. She looks them all over one at a time, but remains silent, preferring to work in the quiet. Her appraisal is quick -- while the group may look odd, they complement each other well.
She returns to walking the room's perimeter looking for any way out.
While you were taking care of the maggots Aravashnial fumbles into his bag for a little while and takes out a potion and drinks it restoring a good deal of his health.
Anivia reaches for her bow and stands up but the battle is over long before she can fire a shot. She winces but it looks like she can stand unaided.
Horgus on the other hand paces about impatiently. He stops as he notices one of the silver scales on the ground and pauses to pick it up. He immediately yelps in surprise and drops it again.
You notice two tunnels leading out the cavern both heading east. There is also a tunnel to the west that has collapsed.
Taking of his hat and reveling Jobo to the room Varn walks over to pick up some of the scales as evidence of what happened in the city. Tipping them into his hat with a rock and dumping them into his backpack. Noticing that the scales of the fallen silver dragon harmed Horgus he tries to think why that happened
Well we seem to have four options, east and right, east and left, dig out the western tunnel
He puts up a sad grin
Of course we can always wait here for rescue but I doubt that's coming anytime soon for any of us or the city.