The large city's population has swollen in recent weeks in preperation for Armasse. The festival was once dedicated to the now dead Aroden but is still a very important event, particularly to the faithful of Iomedae, who use it to train commoners in combat, ordain apprentice clergy, pick squires for knights, and teach military history, hoping to prevent the mistakes of the past from being repeated. Many others not so religious instead tend toward wild partying during this time. Many live here and many come from many directions for many reasons. This morning things are in full swing as the festival begins with the official opening due to happen at noon at Clydwell Plaza in front of the cathedral.
Oleksandar wanders into the main square, uncharacteristically aimless. His father had forced him out, trying to get him to take his mind of of Imeon. But he couldn't. The festival was just one big reminder of her, and many past festivals enjoyed together. He makes an effort to try some food and see the sights of it, but his heart just isn't in it.
He knows that he could do pretty well in any of the competitions, and his father had made sure he brought his armour and weapons to that effect, but he'd rather just watch the competitors and townspeople's happy, smiling faces as he tried to think of a solution to the unsolvable.
It was a bright sunny day, but Ash had his hood up. It had been twenty years, but he was still nervous about being recognized. Things were different, but familiar in Kenabres. Buildings had been painted. The town was a little bigger. Newer in some places, more run down in others. Human architecture was not known for it's endurance. Still, the walls, the towers, the feel of the city was the same.
He looked at the tall central tower with a pang of guilt and sighed. Why was he even here? Who follows a dream back to a place that holds nothing but bad memories and regrets? He wasn't an oracle or a priest. He was barely even religious.
Desna, what do you want?
Perhaps Aravashniel would know. His former mentor was clever, if cryptic. If nothing else, it would be good to see him.
Ash wandered the streets in the direction of Aravashniel's home, hoping he hadn't decided to move in the passing decades.
People talking and cheering, the sound of steel ringing out, even the neighing of horses was all so overwhelming. With his poor vision fading even more lately, the sights of Armasse were almost lost on Sebastion. He trailed behind his uncle, still carrying his huge slab of a shield. The buildings and masses of people were all a blur as he moved. His vision was still well enough that he didn't normally walk into things, but there was so much activity in the city that it was almost impossible not to now.
"Keep up Sebastion" his uncle called out. "We have to hurry if we're going to get close enough for you to even see anything."
The man was right. Ceremonies would be starting soon and nearly every person in the city was out today. Sebastion had just gotten off duty and was still wearing his polished breastplate and carrying his tower shield. Wrapped in so much metal, most people scurried to get out of his way, but not before giving a quick "hello" as they went. Sebastion was a little famous, especially among the less fortunate. It wasn't everyday that a blind soldier gave a homeless man some food to eat although it did seem to happen pretty regularly.
"Coming uncle Horgus" he called back as he hustled to keep up.
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"So you just aim down the sights and pull on this thingy..?"
The voice of the child--he couldn't be scarcely more than twelve--sounded unsure as he looked over the pistol in Zaniah's hand. She nodded in reply, looking downfield at the hay bales she'd set up around 30 feet away in order to blunt the impact. Her CO had told her to come here and 'unwind,' but that seemed both a poor use of her time and a waste of an opportunity to teach their young about means of demonslaying. Taking some liberty with her orders and using a flexible definition of 'unwind,' she opted to set up an impromptu firearms demonstration in order to teach others.
"Yes, that is what I said. If your gun is designed properly, the bullet will travel down the sights and hit what you are aiming at."
She spun the pistol on her finger, pointed, and sent a round downrange. It impacted in the hay bales, and Zaniah held the gun out to the child.
"Now, I will walk you through it. It is quite addictive."
"It's loud! And way too boring! I wanna learn how to stab! You've got a sword, teach me how to stab!"
Her eye twitched almost imperceptibly.
"This is a gun demonstration. Why did you come here were you not interested in firearms?"
"I thought they'd spit fire! I didn't know gons were so boooring!"
This.
This was already shaping up to be another long day. Zaniah gave the boy an icy glare, all but prepared to launch into a scathing lecture.
Oleksandar is briefly startled out of his daydreaming as a shot rings out over the training yard. After glaring at the oblivious woman holding the still slightly smoking pistol, and a quick glance around to make sure nothing was amiss, he settled back into his ruminations, leaning against a sturdy wall.
Armasse officially began at noon, with the blessing of the festival by Lord Hulrun himself, ruler of Kenabres. You all gathered among the crowd in Clydwell Plaza and quieted as the aged inquisitor took the stage, clad in shining, resplendent armor. He cleared his throat, but just as he was about to speak, a bright light shone from the west, as if the sun were rising from the wrong direction. Hulrun’s shadow fell huge and distorted across the cathedral’s facade. A moment later, the sound of a thunderous explosion ripped through the air and earth, along with a violent tremor.
To the west, the fortress known as the Kite—the location of Kenabres’s wardstone—had vanished. In its place, a brilliant plume of red fire, lightning, and smoke erupted into the heavens. A moment later, a powerful roar accompanied a welcome sight rising from the crowd—Kenabres’s greatest guardian, the ancient silver dragon Terendelev, who had until that moment been attending the opening ceremony disguised as a human. Above, another form appeared, as nightmarish as the dragon was breathtaking. A humanoid shape three times the size of any man, with skin coated in fire and lightning, gripped a flaming sword and whip. The creature’s identity was immediately obvious: Khorramzadeh, the Storm King of the Worldwound, had returned to Kenabres!
As the ground continued to shake and disgorge demons into the streets, the dragon and the balor lord clashed above. The fight was over in a few harrowing moments, as the balor cut deep into Terendelev’s body, swooping down to strike the dragon and arresting her charge. A few more blows, and the titanic duo spiraled downward toward the crowd. The sight of the dragon smashing into the facade of the Cathedral of St. Clydwell is one no witness would ever forget. At that moment, a titanic demon erupted at the far end of the plaza, reducing several buildings to ruins as it smashed into this world. The rift it created shot across the plaza, and this time there was no escape—it opened below your feet, angling away into darkness.
Even as you fell, the wounded dragon noticed your plight. Though she saw death standing over her, she seized this final chance to save a few dozen more souls. After she uttered a few arcane words and stretched out a bleeding talon, you felt her magic take hold of you and those around you as you fell in the chasm, slowing your plummet into the darkness as if you were feathers falling into a pit. Yet the fall remained as inexorable, and as you drifted downward into the depths, the last thing you saw was the Storm King standing before the ancient silver dragon, his sword lashing out and cleaving full through her neck. As her severed head fell, you felt a rush of unknown energy hit you and a strange voice whisper, "Keep hope alive." The rift above you slammed shut, and the light of the world above was gone.
You awake. Even protected from the fall yourself, you somehow got hit by a falling rock or another person and find yourself looking around in the pitch blackness, unsure where you are or what exactly happened above or how far you fell. There is no light above, the chasm has closed completely. There is no chance of climbing out of here even if you could see what you were doing. Around you you hear cries of pain, children in fear and others talking to themself or shouting out for someone nearby to tell them what is going on.
"I can't see!"
"I think my leg is broken. Help!"
"Mummy!"
"Where are we? Does someone have a torch?"
"I can't believe Terendelev is dead."
"I heard something over there. Quiet!"
Oleksander raises his head and opens his eyes to the darkness, groaning. He reaches out his hands and manages to find and grasp the haft of his warhammer. Uttering a couple of harsh, runic sounding words he raises his hammer as he stands and it begins to glow, slowly getting brighter.
As he stands up he glances around at the battered people surrounding him, and takes in the cavern as a whole.
"Who is badly hurt?" He says in a clear, calm voice. "Come here, or call me over and I will try to help."
Ash winced, brushing off dirt and small rocks. He tapped an amulet on his chest and light sprung up from it. Then the amulet floated off of it's housing and began to hover.
"Find the injured." he said quietly.
Then he stood up and conjured a few more brightly glowing orbs before sending them out in different directions. He looked around to get his bearings.
The small floating gem had a few smaller stones orbiting it. It glowed like a torch now and set about moving towards survivors.
Just as she'd opened her mouth to give a brat a piece of her mind, all hell had broken loose. Literally, as it were.
Ah, no--she corrected her mental assessment. Hell was where devils stayed. All abyss had broken loose. Regardless, it was time to act.
Order of the Flaming Lance general deployment guidelines, Section 7: Emergency procedures, Subsection 1: General guidelines, Point 2: Determine the situation in order to determine how to respond.
Point one, which abridged to 'Don't lose your cool,' she'd passed by already. She couldn't remember ever truly panicking.
She cast a light spell onto her pistol with her free hand, as she checked her supplies with the other--doing so with the knuckles of her hand so as not to put the gun down. Three full horns of powder, more than she usually carried--but enough for a demonstration session, she figured. Thirty bullets, enough for all the powder she'd made. A crossbow, twenty bolts included, in case of a particularly long distance fight. Six quick-loading alchemical cartridges, for emergencies. Four flasks of acid, in case of molds or regenerating foes. A rope, and several torches for those who couldn't make their own light. Towa would have called her paranoid for bringing her full retinue of gear to a festival.
Note to self: rub his face in it later.
Point 3: Declare your affiliation and intent so that your allies will know what is required of them.
"Zaniah Riverthorn, crusader, Order of the Flaming Lance. I possess the ability to channel positive energy. Gather the wounded in one place. It will be the most efficient means of healing you all."
After his utterance he hears the woman with the gun from before ordering people to her. Figuring some direction is better than none he picks his way over to her, kneeling down to the obviously wounded between them as he goes and placing his hand onto them, saying "sgaoileadh" as he relieves the worst of their pain, a light flashing under his hand each time revealing his magic.
"Hello there, I am Oleksandar. It would seem we have similar powers, we should split the channelling between us to heal these people." he says, holding out his shield-hand to shake hers.
"Acceptable."
Point 5: Do not turn away those who offer assistance.
She takes his shieldhand with her own, giving him a quick shake.
"I do not see any signs of threats yet. Perhaps this is some form of holding cell..? Regardless, we shall focus on a means of escape after we have secured the well-beings of those present."
Now that there is plenty of light.
It seems that Terendelev had been able to save a good number of those who fell. You can see halflings, elves, humans, dwarves and several races among the roughly 3 dozen survivors. With the appearance of your magical light and several others of the survivors lighting a couple torches they had in their packs, the 'landing zone' is sufficiently illuminated. People start to calm down now that they can see their immediate surroundings. There are many different ages, several children who have no parents, youth and adults in their prime as well as those older.
It is still pretty chaotic though, no one seems to be paying attention to anyone else. There are a few soldiers that appear to be looking into the darkness of the cavern and getting the lay of things. They seem the least troubled.
20ft. away from you behind a boulder you think you recognise Aravashnial. Though it has been some time since you have seen him and you had no idea he was in the square. He doesn't seem to notice you, mainly because he has just finished wrapping material torn from his clothing around his head to cover his eyes.
You can hear the voice of your uncle complaining somewhere out of your vision. Horgus is alive and down here with you but you can't tell what he is saying.
One of the soldiers is familiar. He is the furthest away from the group of survivors. He turns around and you recognise him. Marcus Spatz. He hasn't noticed you yet and doesn't really seem to be paying attention to anyone in particular as he takes stock of the situation in his own professional way.
There was at least one Crusader among the crowd and she was already getting people organized. On one hand, that was good. It was exactly what was needed. On the other hand, it made Ash really not want to be noticed.
Aravashniel. That was another issue. If that really was him, he was here, and the only one that knew Ash's past. Ash really wanted to help him, speak with him, but he really didn't know how his former mentor was going to react to seeing him. Well, 'seeing' might be the wrong term. he thought pessimistically as he watched Aravashniel wind a cloth around his eyes.
Ash made a decision. His fear wasn't more important than his safety, or the safety of the people around him. He made his way through the crowd, helping people to their feet, reassuring them that everything was going to be alright.
"Listen to the Crusader there. If you're hurt, go towards her. If you're not hurt, look around for people you know and try to help anyone who needs it. We're alive and we are going to be alright." It became a refrain he repeated as he moved slowly through the frightened throng.
When he reached the blinded elf he hesitated for a moment, then gently touched the other elf's arm to get his attention. "You look like you could use a hand, Old Man?"
His head ached and a thin line of blood ran down his forehead. He winced as his hand instinctively went to the wound. Luckily is was only a minor scrape along the top of his head, but his body ached and he felt like he was sitting on a rock. Slowly he sat up and peered around the room. His vision always seemed to focus more in the dark and he could make out several people in the vicinity. As he clambered to his feet, he heard voices start to call out.
"Uh, my name is Sebastion Gwerm. I'm a soldier with the Stalwart Shields."
He looked back towards the ground in search of his shield. Picking it up, his hands scanned the surface of it. He couldn't imagine anything damaging the huge piece of steel and iron but if was reassuring to find it intact.
Suddenly his memories flooded back in. He remembered walking through the crowd of people falling his uncle. "Uncle Horgus?" he called out.
"Can you hear me? Are you here? Are you safe?"
He made his way to each person next in line as he searched for his uncle, taking the time to help each person he encountered.
Within a few moments, he finally heard his uncle's voice. "I'm coming uncle, just hold on. I'm coming."
Oleksandar nods to Zaniah. "Sounds reasonable. I will go try to collect those that need tending to, I suggest you do the same and we meet towards the centre of the group."
As he turns to begin gathering the wounded for proper healing, he notices Spatz, but ignores him for now. The man is a bully, but surely he is not so stupid as to pursue his vendetta under the circumstances.
"Agreed."
Zaniah starts doing her best to herd those who can walk towards the center of the group, and as she does tries helping those who can't walk move that way by offering what support she can to them.
The crowd's panic seems to subside as you go around checking for wounded and reassuring everyone. An adult and an older woman gather the children and try to calm them. Some sit around watching dazed, though calm they are unsure what to do right now and seem to wait for something to happen. Some talk amongst themselves about what they just saw happen, saying that it would be silly to try to return to the surface and be killed by waiting demons. "Better to hide down here until they move on." The soldiers and those who seem better prepared than the average person have been gathered and are talking together with an older man clearly the leader, likely a captain or some similar authority.
Aravashnial turns around to face you. Burns are clearly seen at the edge of the crude bandage as he stands up. "Ash Dawncourt. Would that I could be happy to see you. Why have you returned to Kenabres?" His tone conveys suspicion, as if he is wondering if you could have had something to do with the wardstone failing.
Horgus comes towards you and embraces you. "I feared you were dead in the fall. But it seems the dragon's last act has saved us all just to let us die down here in the dark. I am unhurt, are you ok?" He is glad to see you alive but his outlook on the situation is not positive. As he reaches out to grab your hand a resonant static spark is felt between you two and he pulls back. "Did you do that?"
Markus Spatz and several other guards have gathered to talk away from everyone. He has also gathered several of the more prepared looking and uninjured around him.
The injured come towards you. In a couple minutes there are 7 surrounding you, and an old man and young woman whose injuries seem worse further away from you.
As you go around finding the injured and directing them towards Oleksander you find 5 bodies that are unmoving. Perhaps Terendelev's magic failed to save these ones. You find 9 wounded, with gashes from falling rocks or injuries from a hard landing. The last one that you find is a woman that doesn't seem to even be trying to move. She is just sitting there. "What are you looking at? It's obviously broken," she says as you come closer. You recognise her. This is Anevia Tirablade. You have seen her volunteering at the temple of Iomedae, reading to the sick, changing bandages and preparing meals. While you are a healer she had no magic talent. It is clear from her broken leg that she won't be able to move without help.
Wonderful.
Zaniah cracks her knuckles, looking at Anevia's leg more closely. "So I see. Do you think you will be able to set it yourself? Should we move the bone back into place, I should have no real issues fixing the damage with my magics. If necessary, I can take the lead as well..."
Honestly, she sort of wants to. It hurts, but she could do with hurting something right now, and it was probably best to channel that particular urge towards something constructive.
"I have a bullet you could bite down on, should you like."
The quick shock startled Sebastion almost as much as his uncle. "What? No, I...I don't know. I didn't mean to do anything? Are you okay?" Sebastion sighed before the man answered. He knew his uncle well enough to know that a polite respectful response was not likely coming his way. Instead of listening, he tried to focus on what was going on around him. While he loved his uncle, there where dozens of people down here that needed help, and his uncle looked no worse for wear.
As he looked around, he noticed the two individuals beginning to take charge. The situation was dire and he needed to help, there was no other alternative. "Come on uncle. We should join with the others and see how we're all going to get out of here."
With the wounded gathered around him, Oleksandar lowers his hammer and it's bright light fades back to a less bright glow. He concentrates for a second, then the runes, ever-shifting over his bald pate clunk into a new pattern and begin to glow, releasing a wave of healing energy into the poor souls surrounding him.
He relaxes as the light from his runes fades, and his hammer resumes its bright glow.
"I... don't really have a good answer for that. I've been plagued by visions. Strange dreams. I tried to ignore them at first, but eventually I couldn't. I knew something terribel was going to happen, so I came back. I thought I could warn someone. You, mostly." Ash was at a loss for words for a moment. "I guess I should have come sooner."
"Do your worst."
"Perhaps your... gifts, don't like dragon magic. Yes let's go, we can't stay here. The soldiers can protect us."
Your runes glow brightly and their energy infuses those around you easing pain and renewing vigor. It's not much but it does seem to lift spirits.
"If anyone should have seen it coming it was Us. But we failed to find any evidence of the enemy infiltrating Kenabres. Now it has fallen and that balor's whip has taken my sight." He thumps a nearby rock with his fist angrily, "My misfortune that it did not take my life."
"I shall do my best." She carefully feels the bone's break to determine where the fracture is at, so that she can properly set the thing back into place. Seeing as the wound itself seems routine enough, she gives it the same sort of attention which she does while actually working at the clinic.
Once done, if there's time she'll follow it up with a channel of her own, both to her and anyone else within 30 feet.
"Eyes can be healed. This is temporary." Ash said firmly. "I'll be your eyes until you have your own again."
"First thing we need to do is get out of this cave."
The immediate injuries taken care of, Oleksandar approaches Zaniah again, watching her set the womans leg before saying "We should approach the soldiers gathered over there. We have probably landed somewhere that will not take kindly to us being here, and we will need all the sword-arms we can get. And shield-arms too. That man over there in armour - Oleksandar gestures towards Sebastian - looks like he can handle himself."
"I...I don't know. I told you I don't understand them. They've never seemed...harmful before. I can't explain it. Maybe you're right. Look, I'm sorry, but we should probably try to get out of here first. All these people, some are hurt, some are scared, they need our help. It...my powers, it doesn't matter where they come from right now. If they can help us, help all of us, get out of here, then I'm going to use them however I can to help these people, and you."
The more Sebastion spoke, the more confident he became, and the taller he stood. The longer he talked, the more his voice raise. Not in anger, but in authority, in confidence. And the more he felt the eyes of others look in his direction, the more emboldened he became.
With his hand extend out, palm up, towards his uncle, he continued. "Come uncle Horgus. Let us lead these people to safety."
As he started to move, slowing guiding the blind elf through the throng, Ash's second sight scanned the area.
Anevia lets out long cries of pain as you straighten her leg and then your healing helps to close over the wound. She can move, but slowly, and definitely can't run.
Your magical sight shows several auras in Aravashnial's possessions. Around this new environment you see four other auras and find them to be silver scales from the fallen dragon, each scale as large as your palm. One of the children has found and picked one up. The other three are scattered around the landing zone.
[oocSebastion[/ooc]
Most of the group seems to cluster around, drawn to your voice, needing direction as no one can seem to decide on what they should do or where to go.
"Wait here a moment." Ash said to Aravashniel. Then he made his way around the site and picked up the scales.
When he reached the child he said "Thanks for finding that. It's magical and might be dangerous. Would you mind if I hung onto it?"
Terendelev. Ash was suddenly hit by the weight of what had just happened. You deserved better.
He looked around the group of refugees, trying to figure out why the dragon chose to save these random people, chose to save him. instead of fighting back with her dying strength.
He turned the scales over in his hand. "I guess whether her sacrifice was worth it is up to us." he said quietly.
"What is it you see?" Even blind, Aravashnial is able to discern the spell that you cast on yourself, having heard your somatic component. As you pick up the first one you feel a great power and a connection between you and the scale as it imparts knowledge of its artifact-like power. The second, third and fourth do the same, though the child seems to know nothing and was merely playing with it. You know how to use them but you also know that they are inert if you possess more than one.
Minor Artifact
SLOT none(held in hand)
CL 19th
WEIGHT —
AURA strong(varies)
Scale of Disguise
Three times per day as a standard action, a scale can be used to cast alter self. While disguised, the target gains a +4 bonus on all Bluff checks made against evil creatures.
Scale of Cloudwalking
Three times per day as a standard action, the scale can be used to cast levitate. A pillar of roiling clouds rises below the levitating object or creature, growing and shrinking with the target’s altitude. This pillar is 5 feet in diameter (regardless of the target’s size) and provides concealment (20% miss chance) to any creature or object wholly contained within.
Scale of Resistance
Three times per day as a standard action, the scale can be used to cast resist elements—but only against electricity or cold.
Scale of Sacred Weaponry
Three times per day as a standard action, the scale can be used to cast align weapon, but only to make a weapon lawful or good. Unlike a normal align weapon spell, this effect can be cast on an unarmed strike or natural weapon.
SPECIAL ABILITY
Each scale can be used by expending a use of mythic power instead of one of the three charges per day. This enables the bearer to use a scale more than three times per day if they have mythic power to spend.
"That will have to do for now. Do not try overexerting yourself. We shall have to proceed slowly anyways, to avoid ambushes."
That sort of factual statement of why someone should do as she said was the closest she ever got to bedside manner, and she quickly stood up to address Oleksander.
"I concur. While my current supplies are more than enough to slay anything that moves, there will likely be multiple targets to deal with." Surveying the area, she noted Ash busying himself with picking up... scales? Silver plates? Whatever they were wasn't quite her concern yet.
"In addition to the armored one, there seems to be an uninjured scholar of some sort gathering something from the ground. Judging from his actions and incredibly light armor choice, he may be some form of thief, or mage." Who would busy themselves with picking up trinkets off the ground in an emergency? The insane, the opportunistic, and the ones who could see that they weren't trinkets. "I recommend we split our duties to more quickly coordinate everyone into a unit. Would you prefer the soldiers, or the mage?"
Oleksandar considers for a moment, thinking that the soldiers will probably accept Zaniah's bluntness more than the lightly armoured stranger will.
"I will talk to the stranger, you consult the soldiers."
Turning towards Ash, he calls out.
"Greetings Elf. You seem to know what you are about. I an Oleksandar, and the women over there is Zaniah. We are trying to organise ourselves here, and I could guess that you have some expertise that will be helpful to all of us."
Ash's eyes went wide at the scales, but before he could respond to Aravashniel his attention was drawn by the... giant dwarf?
"Ah, yes. Sorry, my friend was blinded during the attack. I'm trying to help him get situated. I'm Ash. This is Aravashniel. We don't have a lot of experience in unexpectedly falling into caves, but I'm willing to help."
He walked over to the young woman with the injured leg. "Here. Miss, you have eyes, and he has shoulders strong enough to help you walk. Help each other, please. I'll be back."
He thought back to his studies. There was a time when combat logistics was his primary focus. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Joining the bulky dwarfy-looking man Ash began to speak quickly, hardly pausing for breath.
"We can't stay here. We have to move through unknown, possibly hostile terrain. We need two groups, each of which which will be further divided into two other groups. The first group is the Vanguard, consisting of scouts and and the most skilled combatants we have. It is their job to find and clear threats along our path. The second group consists of second-line defenders and non-combatants."
As Ash walked his eyes scanned the group, his mind whirling through permutations and possibilities.
"I see two armed and uninjured soldiers," he said gesturing to Sebastion and Zaniah. "Yourself," he gestured to Oleksander, "and me."
"I suppose that will have to do for our Vanguard."
He raised his voice tot he crowd. "If there is anyone here who is uninjured and trained with weapons, but does not have them right now, please come forward."
"Thankyou. I think I'll keep you close." Anevia says to Zaniah.
Anevia looks at Aravashnial with recognition in her eye. "The lame leading the blind. Sounds like the start of a bad joke but I think I can manage. How about you Aravashnial?"
He is startled, "Who are you and, how do you know me?"
"Ah, so wizards don't know everything." She smiles. "We met once but barely spoke. You are better acquainted with Irabeth." Aravashnial nods in recognition as he helps to support Anevia's leg.
The group of soldiers and others that had been clustered around the guard captain has started to move outwards in a semicircle, illuminating further into the cavern.
"If you must." She'd rather not deal with it, but her duty is her duty. Time to bother the guard captain.
"Zaniah Riverthorn, crusader, Order of the Flaming Lance. I bid you as good a day as is possible, given the circumstances."
She takes the time to properly salute and everything.
"I take it you are the captain of what fighting strength we have. What are their current orders, and do any of them require healing?"
The amount of noise in the cavern was almost defeating to Sebastion. It wasn't so much the noise level as the numerous ongoing conversations. Even the various peoples' tones of voices was pulling at his heart. A lot of them were scared, some of them close to panicking. He moved forward towards the front of the pack, where less people seemed to be, dragging his uncle by the hand as he went.
"Forgive me for intruding" he called out, "but I am able bodied, and willing to be at the front. My uh, vision, isn't that great. I can't see long distances, but down here in the dark I can see okay. I would like to scout forward if you'll have me. I'm not too sneaky, but with this many people in tight quarters, I don't imagine stealth is the word of the day."
"Agreed, we should scout on and look for a way out, and secure a perimeter for the non-combatants among us. What is your name, armoured one? I am Oleksandar, the woman coordinating with Captain Spatz over there is Zaniah and the tactically-minded elf here is Ash. Between us we should be able to determine a path forwards, hopefully back to the surface."
He salutes back at you and looks you over in an evaluating manner. "Crusader Zaniah. Guard-Captain and, until moments ago, Chief of plaza security, Marcus Spatz. All of my men are unharmed thanks to Terendelev. I know you wish to see the civilians comfortable but please reserve any healing spells for those who might have to fight. The situation is this. Our location and depth below Kenabres is undetermined. Those who are combat ready are spreading out to look for a way out."
Marcus speaks to you, "If you're eyes aren't working properly I can't depend on you. Stay and protect the civilians." He doesn't think you are useful except for babysitting. Horgus also speaks up. "Excuse me captain. My nephew here is one of the finest soldiers I have ever seen. I am Horgus Gwerm and if you get me out of here alive there will be a 1,000 gold reward waiting at my manor." Marcus seems irritated but the idea of gold reward for protecting the noble keeps him calm. "Keep everyone calm. The last thing we need is everyone getting their own ideas. They will listen to a man as important as you Horgus."
Ash already had a bad feeling about Guard-Captain Marcus. He was spreading his men out, moving into unknown territory along a broad line, and not even bothering to talk to the civilians about what they should do or expect or organizing a scouting party.
It was clear that he was a guard and not a military commander.
He wasn't trained for this and it was going to get people killed. Ash took a deep breath.
"Captain Marcus, what do you think of allowing a small group of volunteers to scout ahead of your men? Seems like recon would be indispensable in this situation, and it doesn't look like your force has any actual scouts, nor the numbers to spare."
"I have used one of the five bursts of positive energy I have in order to stabilize those who may have been bleeding, and to ensure the continued mobility of a woman with a broken leg. In addition to that, I have five standard uses prepared as well... fewer, if there is combat which requires my magical energies."
It was then that she got around to acknowledging Ash--while she let him talk first, it felt right to finish her report.
She looked over at him.
"That is a sound plan. As it stands, even one enemy combatant with adequate archery skills would be able to pick off your entire watch from outside the vision afforded them by their torches. The most defensible option is to set up light sources going out in a fifty foot hemisphere to ensure vision on any possible encroaching threat, then to take up a defensive position and send a scouting party out."
A pause, then.
"Such is my current estimate, at any rate."
For a brief instant, Sebastion's shoulders slumped. He had been hearing similar things for the last several years. People automatically assumed that he was useless and he had used that to fuel his drive to prove them wrong. He wasn't useless and he would continue to prove it.
What really caught him off guard was his uncle's proclamation. Could it be that Horgus really noticed him and thought highly of him? Now his shoulders began to rise. His uncle rarely ever said anything positive, and to hear the man speak highly of Sebastion filled him with tempered pride. He knew the man too well and it didn't take long for him to figure out that Horgus was protecting the family name more than Sebastion's reputation. Still, it was motivating.
"I can appreciate your position sir, but my eyes will serve me better down here than yours will. All are blind in the dark. My place is at the head of the line. A shield does no good behind targets. Besides, if you can't depend on me, better to have me out front where you can see me."
Marcus doesn't seem to like you giving him suggestions on how to secure the area and protect the people down here, especially when Sebastion refuses to stay where he was told, but then he thinks for a moment and comes up with his own plan. "Alright, I'm asking for a few brave volunteers to scout ahead, leave markers to tell me which way is safe. Make sure you take that one," he points over at Oleksandar, eliminating him from having the choice of volunteering, "I want him out of my sight 5 minutes ago. Zaniah, find and organise these volunteers, I want you to lead them." Either he thinks highly enough of you that he would place you in such a leadership position or, he has had enough of your suggestions and wants you out of the way also.
Oleksandar sighs.
At least he is somewhat listening, the bull-headed bastard.
He mutters to Sebastian "This is the best we are likely to get out of him, let's go."
Then, louder to everyone "Very well Captain. We'll head on forward. Although a way to communicate would be useful, if anyone has the capability."
A smile twitches the corner of his mouth up as he remembers one of the last pranks he and Imeon pulled on Spatz. Try not to fall into any privies this time, lard-for-brains he thinks.
"I can help with that. Crusader Zabiah, I volunteer." Ash said. An incantation later and Ash had cast Message on Captain Marcus and Aravashniel.
"Captain, the elf with the blindfold is Aravashniel. I'ev included him in this communication link because he is the most intelligent person I know and we will likely need his council. Aravashniel, this is Captain Marcus." Ash's voice sounded like it was coming from just behind their ears.
"My range on this spell is roughly a hundred and twenty feet. I will try to keep no more than one hundred feet from either of you. I'd appreciate it if you'd stay near each other toward the front of the group so I don't accidentally lose contact."
He rifled though his pack and came out with a few small jars of colored ink. "Markers will be left with these and I will update you frequently through this sending."
Ash blinked and chuckled to himself. He'd been so focused on the situation that he hadn't really taken stock of himself. He'd managed to keep a hold of his stylish cane during the fall and was currently leaning on it. It seemed silly to bring it on a scouting expedition, and there was another who needed it far more than he did.
"Anevia." he called, and tossed the cane through the air. it drifted, guided by magic so she could easily catch it. It wasn't as good as an actual crutch, but it was better than nothing.
Then he went to stand next to Oleksander and waited to set out.
"On it." She assumed it to be the latter, of course. Ash reported his own abilities very efficiently, and the message option would work for keeping up communications, unless there was some sort of barrier along the way.
Barriers could be destroyed, it was at best a small issue.
"Acceptable, Ash. Between myself, Oleksander, and you... one more, I think." She looked over at Sebastian. A tower shield was unusual, and Marcus had clearly decided to brush him off as useless as well.
What better way to rub her innate superiority into this idiot's face by accomplishing what he clearly couldn't than by doing it with someone who was assumed worth nothing?
She pointed at Sebastian. "You. With the shield. I am Zaniah Riverthorn, crusader, Order of the Flaming Lance. You shall be coming with us in order to determine the most expedient way out of here."
Ash held up a hand. The glowing stone he'd sent flitting about earlier came back. He snapped it to a medallion on his chest.