Shocked that he had failed to land any blows, Kaeldron pushed himself to keep up the attack. He didn’t yell any more challenges or prayers, but rather focused on the take at hand. Two of his blows landed this time, the creatures unnatural celerity seemingly spent.
Sariel nearly tips off of his cloud pedestal. He kneels and clutches at its edges, failing to engage the demon for a few moments.
Draghis takes a deep breath and finishes her sermon. Her voice cracks and she goes silent.
As she finishes, she reaches out and grants Kaeldron Vildeis' Touch of Good ability.
As Draghis' sermon fades away, Davok picks it back up, although it now seems to only affect himself.
Fredric's fury grows and grows, his swings becoming ever more brutal!
The demon is torn into chunks of shadow...
The Sword of Valor lies in a heap on the slab of marble.
”Wait, wasn’t the sword of valor back there? How can there be two of them?” Kaeldron said, with confusion. ”This one is in a heap of rubble though. So was that a trap?” Carefully he went to pick it up off the ground.
Fredric looks at the sword.
"What trickery is this?"
"I'll leave floatin' t'feathers," Sariel says, looking a bit green after his ascension from the pit.
"Well, clearly one's fake. 'cuz they's but one sword 'o valor. The question is, how d'we tell?"
Draghis casts detect magic on both swords (for the full three rounds), trying to ascertain a difference between the two.
The one on open display has a strong illussion aura.
The one crumpled onto the floor has faint abjuration and evocation... until Kaeldron picks it up and the aura swiftly becomes strong.
As Kaeldron picks up the banner he can feel the power radiating from it, everyone nearby feels a renewed confidence.
The Inheritor herself carried this crimson banner into battle during the Shining Crusade.
An army commander who carries the Sword of Valor increases the DV and OM of her army by 4 against armies of undead or evil outsiders.
Yet the Sword of Valor's greatest power lies not in offense but in defense. Mounted firmly upon an interior wall in a visible, public place, the Sword of Valor creates a 10-mile-radius area that bars demons and those who worship demons from using teleportation spells and effects and imparts on such creatures a -4 penalty to Armor Class and on all saving throws.
Once per month while the banner is mounted on a wall, a worshiper of lomedae within 30 feet of the banner can use it to summon a planetar to protect the banner and its surroundings for 1 day.
Any nonevil creature that sleeps within a 1-mile radius becomes immune to fear effects from demons and demon worshipers.
Feeling the raw power of the banner, Kaeldron involuntarily gasped. ”This is it. This is what we came for. Our mission is complete.” He said, almost in disbelief. ”We should rejoin the army. Lady Claire...you are the General. I believe that it would be best for the soldiers to see you holding this as we march out in victory.” When it came down to it, he still truly believed that the once-tavern-girl held in her a great destiny, and that his role was merely to protect her so that it might unfold. Just as he saw it as fate which brought Paladins as mighty as Frederic, Davok and Sariel to her side. As such, the glory of the holding the banner did not belong to one such as himself. Rather, his place was by her side, to act as her shield.
Fredric smiles at the feeling that sweeps over him at the sight of the true banner revealed and unfurled.
"By this banner, we small crush demons and their minions!", he calls, savage joy in his voice.
"What was the purpose of the other banner, though? Few people knew that the real banner was here, so I can't see it being used as a decoy as the only reason. Perhaps it is a trap."
"Neat!" Sariel says with a big grin.
"Auww, it's so pretty! Are you sure?" Claire accepts the banner and strikes a pose, trying to figure out how best to hold a banner and look awesome while killing bad guys. It was best to figure these things out ahead of time, after all, rather than in the moment. "Hmm... Like this? Or, maybe like this?"
Eventually she grins at everyone. "Good job, everyone!"
"So, is this illusionary Sword worth taking with us?"
”No. It’s probably a trap. Why else would it be sitting next to the real one like this? We’ll have some wizards or whatnot look at it. We are no longer under any rush, so let’s play it safe.”
"Good point. Let us do another sweep, see if any stragglers escaped us."
Kaeldron nodded. He didn’t want to admit that he was tired, and wanted to lie down. Without his armor. They had killed a monstrous chimera. He had lost count of the amount of demons and fiendish foes they had killed. Even the traitorous former Paladin has fallen beneath them. It had been an extremely long day. And while they had time to rest after they had culled everything except for the last holdout, the sheer magnitude of what they had accomplished weighed on him. But Frederic was right. They couldn’t rest until the job was done.
With the Citadel conquered and the Sword of Valor once more with the righteous the dredges of the Abyssal forces go into hiding or flee the city.
Though still in ruins it is an easily defended location. The Knights of Kenabres and freed prisoners can set to rebuilding during the brief respite.
Until the group is certain of having crushed or driven out every last remnant of the invaders, Fredric remains keen to finish the job.
Once that is done, he finds time to rest.
As the spoils of war are distributed, he seeks smiths capable of enchanting arms and armour.
The servant of Ragathiel desires that his blade be even more ready to slash through demons and their minions and that his armour even more ready to turn their claws and blades from him!
The battle was over. The battle was won. Kaeldron couldn’t believe it. He had thought that their mission was likely to end with high casualties under the best of circumstances. Their army wasn’t particularly large...and to think of what they accomplished! Even reaching the city required fighting several armies of cultists, tieflings and lesser demons. And then they had to take the surrounding city from the forces of the abyss, followed by an assault on a dwarven build fortress without siege equipment. And once inside it had been a nightmare of blood and slaughter, with the enemy contesting nearly every room and hall. And yet...they had done it. They had done the impossible. And not only did they suffer minimal casualties, but they had even rescued a force of crusaders as well. Which meant that they had the numbers to hold the fortress city until reinforcements arrived.
For his part, Kaeldron spent his downtime seeing to the wounded, and in prayer. Specifically he found that he could take abyss cursed items, and with his goddess-granted shield, the evil could be purged. It destroyed the items, but at the same time it empowered the spear that was attached to the shield. He could now *feel* the holy aura within it.
That, and he spent his share of the bounty of the battlefield commissioning an enchantment to his armor. Between the effort of priest and mage, his armor was now the most practical piece of adventuring gear he could imagine. Not only did it clean itself to an immaculate shine, but it now felt as comfortable as regular clothing. He found that with it, he could even sleep in the armor without any discomfort. With the enchantment he was now always ready should evil arise. A boon in such dark and troubled times.
Claire spends her time much as she always does: visiting the people in her army and camps, shaking hands, smiling, and making friends. She's beginning to remember everyone's names, including those they recently rescued from the city, which seems to make the soldiers pretty happy. She's not sure why, but she's glad. Everyone deserves to feel welcome and loved -- especially in trying times like these! It's like... HORRIBLE out there!
Alistair stalks in Claire's shadow, growling at everyone that gets too close, and desperately trying to keep Claire from getting too attached to any of these 'unworthy mortals.' Claire, for her part, continues to giggle away Alistair's concerns.
Partway through the week Alistair vanishes, so she goes on an epic quest to find him. Which was surprisingly hard! She finds him in a hidden in a pile of hay in the stables with Anaba.
"Hey Davok?" she asks when she finds him next. "What have you been feeding Anaba? She's like... SUPER fat!" With a grin she adds, "It's adorable! I wish Alistair was that pudgy!"
Davok rounds on Claire in a fury. Looming over her he opens and closes his mouth numerous times, but he can't make himself speak. His hands clench into fists and open into shaking hands numerous times.
Finally, he turns and stalks off a ways.
"Claire, please... Davok is very upset right now. Anaba is leaving, and he blames your spi-- he blames Alistair."
"Leaving? Why?" Claire asks curiously. A moment later she smiles. "That can't be Alistair's fault! He loves Anaba! He'd like... totally miss her if she didn't come along!"
Claire peeks around Draghis at Davok. "Did he do something naughty?" she asks him. In a singsong voice she adds, "I can't scold him if you don't tell me what's wroooong."
"Besides, shaking in fury's really not a good way to cope with sadness. Bad for your heart, ya' know? We should hug it out." Claire slips around Draghis, over to Davok, grabs his arm, and gives it a great big hug. "It'll be alright."
Fredric wanders by and is puzzled by the sight of a glowering Davok and a comforting Claire.
Then he sees Anaba.
"Ah. Davok, do you have someone to take care of the puppies?"
Davok steps away from Claire's hug and rounds on her.
"She is Vildeis' warrior! We are on a holy mission, and we should be able to count on allies for support, not exploitation in moments of weakness!
"She will not risk her litter being harmed while we fight demonic forces. And because of your lecherous pet, we are losing one member in our fight against evil."
"I have tried explaining to him that this is Anaba's choice as well, and anyone may make the choice to start a family, but... it doesn't help that Alistair doesn't seem like the type to make this decision with a family in mind."
"Ah. Davok, do you have someone to take care of the puppies?"
"That is why Anaba is leaving. They will be well cared for in the celestial realms."
Claire puts her hands on her hips as Davok yells in her face. For the first time in a long while, she FROWNS at an ally. "Hey! Don't imply what you're implying, mister! Alistair didn't force himself on Anaba and never would! That was consensual puppy-loving! And LOVE is nothing to scowl over! It's wonderful, and beautiful, and... and... a BLESSING!" She nods her head for emphasis. "Just because we're all dedicated to war, doesn't mean Anaba is! That's her choice and clearly she chose to continue the miracle of life instead of fighting for it. YOU should be understanding! That's what someone does when they love someone. Be happy for their happiness -- not poop all over it!"
Claire crosses her arms and taps her foot. "Now, onto more important things that your wounded sense of righteous duty -- what does Anaba need, how can I help, and where is she moving to? How can Alistair be a good puppy-daddy if he doesn't know where to visit her?"
"I am not implying that anybody was forced," Davok says through gritted teeth. "This is about discipline and duty that most of us willingly choose. It is difficult to maintain, but it is right. Sometimes, one needs to support an ally when they slip, not cheerfully enable their lapse!
"Anaba did dedicate herself to this cause, which she must now abandon because of your--"
Davok's next words are cut off by the deep growl of the she-wolf in question who slowly approaches. Davok turns from Claire to Anaba. Standing, the hulking wolf meets Davok at eye-level. They stare at each other for along moment, the tension easing somewhat from Davok's shoulders as they do so. Eventually, he places his guantleted hand gently on the side of her head and speaks a single word in Orcish.
"Zil'nok."
Anaba fades away, her barding and saddle collapsing to the ground. Without looking at anyone else, Davok hefts them onto his shoulders and moves off to find a quartermaster.
Draghis steps closer to Claire.
"I will find out where Anaba has gone and let you know."
"WHOA!" Claire exclaims. "Huh? Oh, thanks Draghis!"
Fredric looks on, then nods, satisfied that matters appear to be now resolved. He turns, and walks off on the errand that he had set out to take care of.
Off in the reclaimed city, Kaeldron peacefully went about his day. The others were nowhere in sight, but he was sure that they could go a day without either smiting evil or having other drama. Regardless, it felt good to have some peace and quiet.
Later that day a messenger arrives with a letter from Queen Galfrey.
Looking over the map, Fredric declares:
"Pushing south and west sounds like a fine start!"
"Right! Let's go!"
"Hey, wait for me." Alistair grumbles, apparently in a bad mood. He mutters something under his breath about woman leaving him as he lopes off after Claire.
"Awww, of course!" Claire gushes, pausing to pat Alistair. "I'd never leave you behind. Come on."
A churning river of molten rock cascades from a high cleft in the wall of the escarpment here, creating a two-hundred-foot fall of lava that plunges into a searing lake of glowing stone far below.
From this vantage point with enough time you can likely notice some promising areas to investigate... the sharp eyed among you see the silhouette of a dragon many leagues in the distance to the west!
”A dragon. Now that could be an issue, both for us and the crusade. If it is corrupted then it will be a formidable foe. We should only engage it if we have the resources required to fight it in the air.”
"We could rush it...but aye, we must be ready to strike it down wherever it flees."
"That's one shower I wouldn't be 'avin'." Sariel remarks of the lava.
”A dragon. Now that could be an issue, both for us and the crusade. If it is corrupted then it will be a formidable foe. We should only engage it if we have the resources required to fight it in the air.”
"Like a catapault?" Sariel says with a cocked eyebrow.
He tries not to let his emotions show. The dragon is formidable in its own right, but it also calls back the misery of seeing Terendelev struck down by the Storm Lord.
"Or sev'ral! Obviously, we gotta prepare th' defense at Drezen. What's stoppin' th'dragon to fly over this very day?"
He grips his newly restored longbow, gleaming with oil and ornamented with masterful engravings of antlers.
”You’re arrows.” Kaeldron replied. ”That is about it. We need potions of flight for the rest us, and then we need to track down it’s lair. That is far too close to the city.”
"Then let us get those potions."
Claire nods. "Right!" A moment later she leans down and asks whispers loudly to Alistair, "Where's the nearest potion shop?"
Alistair sighs deeply, just barely avoiding rolling his eyes.