Lola tilts her head, ”a version of me - I suppose. I think she was a priest, though. And my … incarnation only vaguely knew her. It’s hard to remember everything.”She rubs her temple and she shakes her head, ”beyond that - I am not a liberty to say at this time,” she adds cryptically, ”I hope I can explain in the future - but for now, I think I’ve explained all that I can about myself, and I hope that is enough.”
The party returns to the room where they circumvented the magical trap covered by the woven mat. With time to prepare and assistance from her allies, Coral makes short work of the trap. Studying it further, she determines someone drew a symbol of weakness beneath the woven mat, delighting in the irony of creating a trap that weakens its victims in a space that was once used to tone and strengthen muscles.
With the trap disarmed, the room is now safe once more. The elation of removing a potentially dangerous trap will need to serve as a reward because no further discoveries will be made once the trap has been disarmed.
"Well that's a disappointment - a trap not to guard anything, but just here for spite. Onwards! Let's get rid of that evil enchantment."
Feena was quite pleased with all they had learned in their studies and she hoped they could put it to good use. It might be a challenge but it was a necessary one. Fortunately it was time to rest and she felt much better come the morning.
Then came Lola's story time, where she explained her reaction to the book they had found. Feena really wanted to start taking notes but she held herself back, this was Lola's story and she had no right to record it unless she was told to. When Lola finished Feena went over to her, rather impulsively, and hugged her. This was rather unusual for Feena to do, she largely kept her hands to herself where other people were concerned, but she felt this was the right thing to do at the moment.
"I can't begin to comprehend what that must be like, nor do I think I would really want to. Regardless I am grateful you shared what you remembered with us." She gave Lola a weary smile and said, "With all that has happened so far since this started I do not think that anything is chance, what you experienced and did, I think, will be very important at some point in the future."
When they continued their explorations and found the trapped room Feena did what she could to help Coral, which mostly required staying out of her way and safely behind cover in case something went wrong. "That...that is absurd to the point of vindictiveness..."
Lola looks like she’s going to say something, and then grits her teeth as if in pain, ”Sí, Feena. There is … a little more that I am aware of. As I say, I was given the impression it would be revealed in time.”
She’s obviously exceedingly particular with her words, with the next things she says, ”be mindful of the fact that the psychopomps considered me a failure, and that additional deals needed to be struck. I had returned to the boneyard. To the graveyard of souls - the resting place of the faithless. Ashava could not intervene. I was to wander for an eternity.” She raises an eyebrow, ”the magic needed to return me was beyond that of a priest.”
She looks down and exhales, ”estoy agradecida. To everyone. Beyond words. But we are obliged to resolve the issue with this artifact, as soon as possible. After that, I must find a way to destroy the Whispering Way, even should it claim my life. Instead of a lonely eternity in an endless graveyard, I am an agent of the psychopomps, now, and forever, and it is the best outcome I could have hoped for.”
As noted, she is hiding something - though she doesn’t want to. She seems unable to explain what she explained. As if there are cosmic rules.
She rubs her hands together and finishes, ”let us free this town from this curse. The people in the area, the animals, and life itself deserves a chance to thrive again. We can make a difference if we try, ¿sí?” Lola starts assembling the materials and rituals needed to destroy the artifact.
Coral isn't sure if there is more meaning to what Lola says, but she accepts the Duskwalker's comment that more may be revealed in time.
I'm not sure how much I know about any of the others, so I don't see the need to pry into Lola's past further, fascinating though it may be. We are here, we are together, and we were spared for a reason. To lift this curse and avenge Roslar's Coffer for a start.
"Do we have everything we need? Let's get to it."
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
With determination etched on their faces, the party sets out to disrupt the occult ritual shielding the fetoring maw and to destroy the cursed artifact itself. With Valthazar nowhere to be found, they must rely on their wits, skills, and the knowledge gleaned from their hours of research.
Knowing they can't directly interact with the fetoring maw due to the invisible aegis, they focus on disrupting the ritual's magical foundation. Damian, well-versed in divine magic, leads a counter-ritual. He draws upon his knowledge of abjuration and the divine power of Sarenrae, chanting prayers and inscribing symbols of dispelling around the perimeter of the ritual site.
Feena and Lola assist by creating a magical disruption. Feena channels her arcane energy to weave a complex spell matrix, intertwining it with the fabric of the ritual to weaken its structure. Lola, drawing upon her deep understanding of the occult and her personal experiences, adds her own mystical insights to destabilize the ritual.
Coral, vigilant and ever-watchful, stands guard with Vlad, ensuring that the group is not disturbed or ambushed during this delicate process.
While the ritual disruption is underway, Marya prepares the mixture they learned about in their research. Using holy water, she carefully mixes it with antitoxin in equal parts. As they discovered, this concoction is crucial in weakening the fetoring maw.
Once the counter-ritual is complete and the invisible aegis is sufficiently weakened or dispelled, the party approaches the fetoring maw with caution. Marya gently immerses the fetoring maw in the holy antitoxin mixture using a chalice she found on the first floor.
The group watches intently as the mixture begins to react with the artifact. The air grows tense as they wait for the right moment, knowing they have a short window of opportunity.
As the mixture weakens the maw, Vlad steps forward, wielding his warhammer. With a powerful, well-aimed strike, he delivers a blow designed to shatter the maw. The entire party holds their breath as the weapon connects.
Upon impact, the fetoring maw shatters into hundreds of pieces, scattering around the room. Tiny wisps of green smoke emerge from the fragments, forming the shape of a skull before vanishing entirely.
Running to the window, you look outside and see fog beginning to disappear, gradually revealing clear skies and, more importantly, fresh air.
Marya easily recognizes Lola’s reticence as something imposed rather than preferred, and she decides not to press.
As the counter ritual’s effects become clear, Marya lets herself collapse the ground in exhaustion. They did it. They bloody did it. Now they just need to figure out what to do next.
As the fetoring maw is destroyed and the evil god begins to dissipate, Damian shudders. His eyes glaze over and he falls to his knees, muttering.
"Your Holiness... I am not worthy, I have strayed. ...Yes. Yes, of course. ...I understand."
He then begins to move as if in a trance, entering certain rooms and beelining to a shelf, a specific drawer, a chest, gathering objects and tomes and taking them to the altar on the ground floor. There he spends some time cleaning the defaced place of worship, both magically and using his own hands. The objects are arranged according to some specific pattern that is only apparent to Damian, and then he spends a long time in... prayer? Meditation? All the while, he is muttering to some invisible presence, listening, nodding, cocking his head.
Lola watches as Damian is seized by a religious conviction, obviously happy for a moment to not be the center of attention. She doesn’t interfere, seemingly content to let Damian continue with his ministrations as long as the man doesn’t harm himself.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Damian finds himself in the throes of a profound experience, his senses heightened, his mind open to a presence beyond the material realm. The air seems to shimmer around him, and a gentle, otherworldly light suffuses the space.
As he kneels, a soft voice, barely more than a whisper, yet clear and resonant, fills the room. It's a voice that seems to come from within and all around him, speaking directly to his heart. A spirit resonates within this tranquility, ethereal yet imbued with an undeniable sense of wisdom and authority.
Damian recognizes this as a guiding force connected to his deep devotion to Sarenrae.
"Child of the Dawnflower," the spirit begins, its voice a gentle echo in his mind, "you stand at the precipice of great turmoil. The world reels from the devastation of this so called Radiant Fire, and shadows lengthen across the land. The days to come will be marked by trials that will test the very core of your being."
The spirit's words flow like a calm river, each syllable instilling a sense of grave importance. "But you must not falter, for your path is a righteous one. Though you doubt your worthiness, know that it is not the absence of doubt that defines a hero, but the courage to confront and rise above it."
The air in the room seems to pulse with the spirit's presence, a comforting warmth that surrounds Damian. "Your journey has been one of pain and loss, of wandering in the darkness seeking the light. Yet, it is through these trials that you have been tempered, forged into a vessel of purpose and resolve. Fear not your doubts, for they have forged your resilience. Embrace your past, for it has shaped your compassion. Your path will not be easy, but you do not walk it alone."
There's a pause as if the spirit is weighing its following words with great care. "The days ahead will require not only your strength but also your compassion and wisdom. You will face choices that will challenge your very essence, but remember, Damian, that in the face of overwhelming darkness, even the smallest flame can hold back the night."
Damian can feel the spirit's resolve, a steadfast commitment that mirrors his own. "Embrace your destiny. Stand firm in the face of adversity. Remember, the light of Sarenrae burns within you, a beacon of hope in these dark times. Through you, her radiance will shine, guiding the lost and protecting the innocent. You are a guardian of life, a champion of the Everlight."
The voice begins to fade, leaving a lingering sense of peace and purpose. "Go forth, Damian. Your journey continues, and with each step, you bring light to the shadows. We are here, guiding, watching, supporting. You are never alone."
The paladin finds himself prostrated at the feet of the altar, his body feeling lighter than it has in months, and his head clear. As he climbs to his feet, a beatific expression illuminates his face.
"My friends..." He stops, searching for the words to share the incredible experience that to him it feels like it has forge him anew. He fails, shakes his head with a rueful chuckle and instead simply says "I am ready."
Coral is not sure what to make of this.
Damian is a paladin of Sarenrae in a place holy to Sarenrae, but this holy fervor is not like the more staid Iomedan worship she is familiar with.
A blessing for him for cleansing this place? Or is he going slightly mad the way Vlad is? Or is he to be a special servant of the gods like Lola is? I wonder if this... Being Chosen, I guess... I wonder if it will change me too.
As you leave the Bastion of Light, the clean air fills your lungs and leaves you with a sense of accomplishment. The once ominous and oppressive fog that shrouded the landscape is now gone, revealing the world in a clearer, albeit still uncertain, light.
Stepping away from the Bastion, your group's attention is drawn to a solitary figure standing off in the distance. She is draped in a heavy, dark-red cloak that seems to drink in the dying light of the day. The cloak's deep hue contrasts sharply with the surrounding environment, casting her in an aura of mystery. Accompanying her presence is a peculiar, yet not unpleasant, aroma of spices, creating an air of exotic mystery.
The woman raises her hands in a non-threatening gesture, showing she is unarmed. Her voice, firm and distinctly feminine, carries a strange accent as she addresses your party. “Hold now!” she calls out, her tone conveying urgency but not aggression. “I mean you no harm! I am just as caught up in these events as you. But perhaps we can help one another? Wouldn’t you like to learn more about what caused all this?” She gestures vaguely in the direction of Roslar’s Coffer, her movements deliberate and controlled.
She continues without waiting for a response, her words flowing swiftly. “You certainly seem capable of handling yourselves, so I propose an alliance. I can offer you respite from your wounds, and resources to replenish your supplies.” She points towards a sturdy wagon parked a short distance away on the road, hitched to a pair of grumpy-looking donkeys.
“In return, I ask that you travel to Vigil and warn the Knights of Ozem about the potential danger that looms over Lastwall’s capital. Be vigilant for a creature named Gildais, once Tar-Baphon’s seneschal. I fear he has played a part in this disaster and is part of a larger scheme to free the Whispering Tyrant.”
The cloaked woman maintains a careful distance, her face obscured beneath the hood of her cloak. She does not reveal her identity, nor does she delve into how she knows such detailed information. Her proposal, while intriguing, is shrouded in the same mystery that surrounds her persona.
Lola stares at this newcomer, and she has an unreadable expression, but only for a moment. She removes her broad hat and bows deeply, with a flourish, formally, her black hair scattering in front of her hair briefly before standing up - and having her tresses fall elegantly on her shoulder.
She muses ”Ma'alob cumplido,” she comments, stiffly. ”An alliance. Mhm. Is swearing allegiance required before you reveal yourself?” She turns to the others, ”consider carefully what you agree to,” before stepping away from the other slightly, and folding her arms.
Feena was relieved when they finally destroyed the Festering Maw and felt a great weight lifted for the moment when she could go outside and breathe clean air. She could still feel lingering weakness from her strength being drained so long ago and very much wanted to get the problem resolved. It would sadly take time still she suspected but she would make sure it happened.
Feena's gaze was caught by the woman and her wagon as the woman spoke in a voice with a strange accent. She wondered what language the accent was, caused by and thought about it even as she pondered the offer.
Feena was a little surprised when Lola made her demand, she honestly thought that they should be the ones to reveal themselves, but then realized they weren't exactly hiding. That the woman seemed to want to stay distant from them was a sign something was wrong. Still, the enemy of their enemy was their fiend, and they couldn't afford to be picky just now, especially if they really were up against the Whispering Tyrant's..organization.
"While we do need help, I too am wary of trusting someone who just happens to be here when we finally are free of this place. The last time this happened they were cultists out to kill us...," Feena hesitated and then added, "again."
To Lola's formal gesture and probing question, the woman replies with a respectful tone, "En efecto. Your caution is commendable. No allegiance is required for this alliance. My aim is not to command but to offer help where our goals might align. You are free to accept or decline my offer based on your own judgment."
Feena can't quite place the accent.
Addressing Feena's wariness, she continues, "I understand your reluctance to trust, given the trials you've faced. I am here not as a foe, but as someone who seeks your assistance as much as you may need mine. Our meeting is serendipitous, but not a trap. Like you, I have much at stake in thwarting the machinations of the Whispering Tyrant's followers."
The woman then speaks to the entire group, "I cannot disclose my full identity at present, not out of deception, but due to complexities intertwined with the threats we confront. Consider me an ally against a shared adversary. The aid I offer comes without obligations. It is for you to use as you decide, in pursuit of our common goal."
She pauses for a moment, letting her words resonate. "The path you tread is perilous, and I believe our paths intersecting is no mere coincidence. While I recognize your doubts, remember that time is a luxury we may not have. This offer is not a binding agreement, but an opportunity for you to fortify yourselves against a looming and greater evil."
Damian nods in greeting to the woman. "Wariness is good, especially after all the deceptions we have faced. But let us also remember that one of the tactics our adversaries like to use is to try and divide us. Scattered and disunited, we are much less of a threat to them."
He offers her, if not a smile at least a softer expression. "You understand that we can trust you blindly, but I at least am willing to open the door for trust to be earned, perhaps on both sides. Please, tell us more of what it is you offer, and of what you know about this situation."
He leaves unsaid the part that they were already planning to at least contact the Knights of Ozem.
Coral considers the newcomer carefully. The party has encountered unexpected aid along its way, but also treachery - Gerdish comes to mind.
Does she sense any deception from the mysterious woman?
If not, she says, "I am inclined to agree with my friend here. I'd like to hear of what you know, if we have a common enemy. And I have a question for you - if you have been here long, did you see anyone else pass this way recently? One of our foes, a necromancer, fled from us."
The cloaked woman listens attentively to Damian, nodding slightly as he speaks of wariness and the importance of unity. His willingness to open the door to trust seems to resonate with her.
"You speak wisely," she responds to Damian. "Trust is not given lightly, especially in times such as these. It must be earned, and I am willing to take the first steps in that direction. What I offer is simple: information and resources. The resources are plentiful and straightforward – food supplies, a large sum of coin, magical weapons and potions, armor, and a means of transport, as well as some aids for your journey. The information, however, is more complex. I have knowledge about the movements and plans of the Whispering Tyrant’s followers, including some insights into their recent activities in this area. While my knowledge is not complete, it may help you anticipate their next moves."
She turns to Coral, acknowledging her question with a thoughtful pause. "As for your query about others passing this way, I did indeed notice someone fitting the description of a necromancer, though I could not ascertain their identity or intentions. There was a slender man with short, wavy white hair wearing a high-collared purple coat. An aristocrat of some sort, I'd presume. They seemed to be in great haste. He appeared to be walking north as well, though I cannot say for how long or what his destination might be."
Her voice maintains a steady, calm tone, suggesting honesty, but her cloaked and hidden demeanor naturally casts a shadow of mystery over her words. There's no overt sign of deception in her manner, but her cautious approach to revealing information reflects a deep-seated wariness, perhaps born of her own long and troubled history.
"Your journey is undoubtedly intertwined with greater events unfolding in this land. While my role in all this is... complicated, our immediate goals appear to align. I seek to prevent further chaos and destruction, much like you. Working together, even in a limited capacity, could benefit us all."
Lola retrieves a small nailfile while the others converse with the new woman, waiting until their conversation has ended. She keeps looking down, and adds, ”it seems everything is simpatico.” She looks up and twirls her file, ”for my part - as I said, I am grateful - I just wished for caution. We have all been wounded more than once. I do not want anyone here - anyone here - to be enslaved by any more contracts or agreements. We should go into this endeavor with clear eyes and hearts. Other than, of course, yours truly.” She smirks.
Turning to the ‘crusaders’ she puts away her file, ”I think, como una cuestión de hecho, that she is the greatest ally we could have possibly hoped for.”
She turns back to the woman, ”But this is not just about the Whispering Way, Sí? There is more. This is about the Big Bad.” She raises an eyebrow, ”I do not even want to allude to anything else. By luck or fate, we are the ones that have the best chance at the task, right?” She holds up her hand, ”without details - but … this is their last chance at freedom. With the fog lifted, they have a chance to live out their lives. If they continue - those lives, and souls, may become forfeit. Possibly for good reason, but forfeit nevertheless.” She turns back to the others in the party, ”I just - do you understand the gravity of what is likely our task?” Her words are laced with concern, and heavy, and matter-of-fact. There is a fatal edge to it. She has gleaned some insight from hearing everyone speak - and while following this woman’s rules, is trying to communicate one last warning. Lola’s countenance is resolved - despite her earlier nonchalance, she seems to be ready to follow this woman implicitly.
"You are right to approach this with both clarity and caution," she responds to Lola's thoughtful remarks. "The stakes are indeed high, and the path ahead fraught with peril. This is not a mere skirmish against a shadowy group; it is a confrontation with forces that threaten the very fabric of our world. Your understanding of the gravity of this situation is astute."
She pauses for a moment, her tone growing more solemn. "You are correct in your assessment. While the Whispering Way is a pressing concern, the true threat extends beyond them. It is a battle against an ancient and powerful evil, one that seeks to unshackle itself and wreak havoc upon this world."
Addressing the entire party, she continues, "The choice to walk this path is not one to be taken lightly. It is a journey that will test not just your strength and skills, but your resolve and spirit. The decisions you make, the alliances you form – they all carry significant weight."
Her words carry an air of somber wisdom, a reflection of her own long and troubled history. "In offering my assistance, I do not seek to bind you to any contract or obligation. My aid is given freely, for our goals align in preventing a greater catastrophe. But be aware, the path you choose is perilous, and the sacrifices it may demand could be great."
"Before I depart, allow me to reiterate my requests," she begins, her voice steady. "Firstly, I ask that you travel to Vigil and warn the Knights of Ozem about the potential dangers that loom over Lastwall’s capital. The events that unfolded here in Roslar’s Coffer could very well be a prelude to further calamities."
"Secondly, keep an eye out for a figure named Gildais. He was once a close associate of Tar-Baphon and may be a key player in the current machinations. His presence, or evidence of it, in Vigil could be crucial in understanding and thwarting their plans."
"Remember, I offer you resources and information to aid in your journey." she briefly turns to motion to the supplies behind her. "This assistance comes without obligation; it is a gesture of goodwill in the face of a common threat."
With her message delivered, she prepares to leave. "Our paths may cross again, or they may not. Regardless, I wish you strength and wisdom on your journey. The road ahead is perilous, but I believe you have the potential to change the course of events that now threaten us all."
With that, she turns, her cloak swirling around her as she moves gracefully away from the group towards a copse of trees, disappearing from sight.
Lola sighs, but doesn't say anything, and just moves to retrieve whatever it is that has been left for them.
Damian lifts one corner of his mouth in a somewhat sad smile directed at both Lola and the mysterious stranger. "I have already died once. I do not have much to lose. Besides, if such a great calamity threatens our world, I have a goddess-given duty to oppose it with all I have."
"Your requests sound reasonable to me," Coral adds, "and I will do my best to carry them out."
Moving to inspect the wagon, you find that the cloaked figure was true to their word. In addition to being a mode of transport you can use to get to Vigil, the wagon contains a wealth of treasure for the party.
It contains 2 weeks’ worth of trail rations, a barrel of fresh water, six skins of ale, and a matching +1 composite longbow (+3 Str) and +1 defending longsword, a +1 defending shortsword, each wrapped in oilcloth. A slender crate contains a masterwork short sword and a masterwork rapier, each with a red leather hilt. Another larger crate contains two suits of +1 studded leather and a suit of masterwork chainmail; both suits of armor have decorations that resemble feathery wings.
A handy haversack contains a potion of eagle’s splendor, a potion of fox’s cunning, a potion of owl’s wisdom, and a ring of protection +2. A velvet bag on the wagon’s seat contains two wands: a wand of cure moderate wounds with 33 charges remaining and a wand of lesser restoration with 13 charges remaining. Finally, a leather bag tucked beneath the wagon’s seat contains 310 pp.
It makes sense that there would be quite a number of beings who would be invested in preventing the Tyrant’s return, including creatures who might appear less savory. Whoever this is, she’s likely a former minion who has thrived in the centuries out from under the Tyrant’s thumb. Having grown up in Ustalav, Marya has heard countless stories about such wayward undead. ”I’ll work with you.”
Feena nodded in understanding and listened as the mysterious woman spoke. She revealed only little more about what was going on and Feena's mind began to work overtime as she tried to understand who this might be and what they wanted. It wasn't until she looked at Lola and remembered what she had said about her past and who would likely visit them soon. She looked again at the woman as she left and her eyes widened in utter shock as she came to the conclusion of who they had just met.
Feena thought of saying something but had only her own speculation on the true identity of their guest. She decided she would not say anything for now, it wasn't that important to their current purposes. She did catch Lola's eye though with a questioning look in her gaze. She wasn't sure if Lola would understand what she was wondering but if any one could confirm her guess it was Lola.
Eventually she started looking through what they had found in the wagon. There was little of use to her in the available equipment but the others would be well armed by what they found. "None of this will do much for me I do not think but the rest of you should be in good shape with what we have been given."
Lola paws at some of the stuff, and separates out a few things that they’ve identified, ”Entonces - to Vigil. Unless we can find Valthazar somehow. Maybe that ranger, Jando can help. Let’s get him and see if he can do anything along the way, and head up to Vigil. You need to tell the leaders of your order what happened here, and we need to do as the woman asked.”
Lola will go and try to find the ranger in his blind to enlist his aid, and to help him with safe passage from the town.
With a sense of purpose, the party sets out to find Jando, the reclusive half-orc ranger they previously encountered. Navigating her way to his hidden blind, Lola calls out to him softly, not wanting to startle the wary ranger.
As she approaches, Jando emerges from the camouflage of his blind, his eyes sharp and alert. He looks rugged and a bit worn, the toll of his time in Roslar's Coffer evident in his demeanor. Despite his rough exterior, there's a hint of relief in his eyes at seeing a familiar face.
"Ah, it's you," Jando says, lowering his bow which he had instinctively raised. "I have to admit, I'm impressed. I feared the worst after you left, as I encountered two more patrols of Whispering Way agents. But then the fog dissipated, and I had hoped that was what you were doing. What brings you back here?"
Lola bows to the ranger, ”yes - it was quite difficult, but we disabled the machine making the fog. As far as we know, there are no enemies remaining in the town, except one of the mutated bears that remains in the cathedral. We were not sure what to do about it…”
She continues, ”we mostly came to let you know we are traveling to Vigil, as soon as we can, but we would like to see if we can keep pace with one of the leaders who escaped - some teleportation magic to go a short distance. If I remember correctly, he seems to be heading north as well. I was hoping you could aid us catching him, or if not, at the very least, if you would come with us. There are too many cultists and too much magic to be alone.” Her manner is easygoing, but a little on edge, as if she wants to leave sooner than later.
Jando's expression grows serious “Teleportation, you say? That complicates things. Catching up with someone who can vanish and reappear at will is no easy task. But,” he pauses, considering their options, “if he's heading north, there's a chance we might be able to intercept him, or at least pick up his trail.”
Jando, acknowledging Lola’s concerns and plan to head towards Vigil, nods in agreement with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yes, heading to Vigil sounds like the right move. You’re right about not going it alone. There's someone you should meet.” he turns over his shoulder and whistles, "HEY, KENDREN! Come meet those folks I was telling you about." Jando then gestures towards a figure emerging from the shadows.
“This here is Kendren,” Jando introduces, indicating the new figure who steps forward into the light. The human man has a resolute gaze and a bearing of quiet strength. The wear of recent events is visible on his face, but so is a determined resolve.
"I found Kendren here after the fog lifted," Jando continues, "He was disoriented, in pain, barely remembered his own name. But he’s come around now. He remembered who he is, and why he’s here. Seems fate has a way of bringing people together at the right time."
Jando adds, “He's a skilled warrior, trained in the ways of Sarenrae. He’s got a good head on his shoulders and knows these lands well. Could be a strong addition on the journey to Vigil."
Emerging from the hunter's blind came a young man, no older than twenty-five years. His brown hair was somewhat tousled, and a bit of stubble showed on his tanned face. His brown eyes, hints of sorrow in them, took in the group, and his mouth had a somber turn to it. His movements were somewhat ginger, as though he was still slightly recovering from a serious wound. His armor was well-made and in good shape, although it looked a little singed, as though he'd been caught in some kind of fiery blast. The ankh of Sarenrae was painted on the steel kite shield he held in his left hand, and the hilt of the scimitar at his waist had a small ankh as the pommel. Still, Kendren stood tall, as though he refused to let whatever afflicted him hold him back. A paladin of Sarenrae, one who had faced hardship, but refused to bend to it.
"Hail, and well met. I am Kendren Nollt, paladin of Sarenrae. I'm also an engineer and stone mason, although those skills might not be quite as helpful at the moment." Suddenly, he noticed Feena and a smile spread across his face. "Feena, it is good to see you survived the explosion Jando told me about. Did anyone else from the temple?" He studied an older man, with a bow. There was something familiar about him...eyes suddenly widening in surprise, he asked, "Mr. Catus?" Suddenly, he felt like a boy again, climbing trees with Ruxanda and Sorin.
The halfling woman looks at the new arrival. A young and handsome man devoted to the service of his goddess - he brings to mind her friend Salcas from Three Pines Ford. Or, at least, Salcas as he was before he returned from his first mission as a deranged and ravenous undead.
But then I too was killed and turned into an undead... only for Alive Me to kill Dead Me.
"Sir Nollt, I am Coral, of Three Pines Ford. I regret to say .. I think... We didn't exactly survive the explosion. Nor, I think, did you. We are not undead, but something else. Maybe almost kin to duskwalkers or petitioners. In fighting our way back from the Boneyard, we found ourselves with new bodies, and a kind of magic in our souls to battle the undead. If a version of this magic has touched you, then I think you should travel to Vigil with us."
Lola laughs and bows, ”some of us are duskwalkers. For my part, I didn’t die when the weapon went off - but I decided to tag along with them anyway.” She removes her hat, and her thick, wavy hair spills out a little. Pressing the hat to her chest, she takes a step back and bows theatrically.
”Lola Aguilar-Vargas at your service. It is a pleasure to see more people among the living. We thought Jando the only one.” She replaces the hat lightly on her head, and runs her thumb along the corded brim. She turns to Jando, ”I will aid you as is in my power - I had to survive on my own for a time as a child, so I learned a thing or two. As they say in some parts of my homeland, ‘ tal vez pueda ser de ayuda.’”
Tears begin to stream down Damian's cheeks as he recognizes his children's childhood friend, now all grown up. There is a mix of sorrow and joy on his features, and he opens his mouth a few times before he manages to speak.
"Kendren, dear boy! The Healing Light blesses us this day. I am so happy to see you safe!" He reaches to wrap the young man into a hug, his head barely coming to Kendren's shoulder.
As Coral mentions that they did not, in fact, survive the explosion, Damian pulls back and hangs his head. "It is as she says. I am still struggling to comprehend it all, but the truth of the matter is that we were brought back for a reason. And if you are like us then so were you." He looks at Jando. "I think you are right, but whether it is fate or something else that moves us together at this time, I do not know."
Kendren hugs Damian back, and a contemplative look appears upon his face. "Dead, but not dead. Yes, such a transformation could explain the disorientation I experienced. The night it happened, I remember pain - the greatest pain I had ever felt. I remember awakening with my mind in a fog, and then what I think were several days of wandering...around the area, I think, but perhaps not. Perhaps it was in part of the Boneyard that just looked like this area." He shook his head. "Forgive me. I have never studied any magic before - it was not my path, and has not held any interest. I know only what Jando has told me of the fate of Roslar's Coffer. I will accompany you to Vigil, if you will have me. Perhaps you can explain to me the nature of these powers you have developed, and we will find an opportunity to test if I, too, possess them. Perhaps you could also tell me of what you have learned since the...event."
Kendren seems reluctant to mention the destruction of Roslar's Coffer. Every time he comes close to mentioning it, it seems another shadow of sorrow passes across his face and he refers to it in more...oblique...terms.
Feena was happy to see Kendren again, she knew him, though not particularly well, but had always enjoyed his company when he was around. Truthfully, she had a little bit of a crush on him when she first came to Rosler's Coffer, though that cooled as time passed and she found him now to be pleasant company that was brushing on friendship.
When he asked her about if anyone else survived the temple her expression fell, and she felt the agonizing sorrow of the loss of her surrogate father and shook her head sadly. "No," she said, "No one from the temple survived. We managed to help ease the passage of the villagers while we were in the Boneyard though, even," her words choked off as the sorrow overwhelmed her again for a moment and she sobbed a little as she said, "Father did not survive, but I at least was able to ease his passing," Feena's eyes were tearing up and it looked like little beads of fire fell from her eyes as she wept tiny tears of flame.
Marya stays at a distance from the new arrival, making no immediate move to greet him. Damian’s warm reaction eases her significantly, but the recent shock with Gerdish has left her feeling on-edge around newcomers. Still, this is someone known by Damian and Feena, not a random person they picked up. Paladinhood is hard to fake, too. She will stay wary.
She finally sheathes her sword and offers her hand. ”Marya. Cleric of the Inheritor. How’d you survive this long by yourself?”
As the party, now bolstered by the inclusion of Jando and Kendren, makes their way north towards Vigil, they traverse a landscape marked by the scars of recent calamities. The air is filled with a sense of urgency, but also of hope, as they journey to unravel the mysteries that have befallen Roslar's Coffer.
The road to Vigil, usually a path of solemn contemplation and guarded travel, presents an unexpected interruption. Ahead, the vibrant and bustling caravan of The Baramasco comes into view. It's a lively scene, a stark contrast to the grim realities the party has faced. The caravan is an eclectic collection of wagons, tents, and stalls, all adorned with colorful banners and symbols of Desna. The sounds of laughter, music, and the tantalizing aromas of exotic foods fill the air.
Luciana Baramasco, the caravan leader, a charismatic woman with a warm smile, greets travelers and merchants alike. She moves with an air of confidence and hospitality, her attire a mix of practical travel clothes and items of clear Varisian origin.
As the party approaches, they are welcomed by Luciana herself. "Travelers! Welcome to the Baramasco. We have goods from the distant lands of Tian Xia, delicacies to tempt your palate, and equipment that might aid you on your journey," she announces with a flourish.
The caravan is alive with activity. Merchants haggle over prices, showcasing their exotic wares, from bricks of high-quality tea to sweet oranges, carefully preserved. There’s a section where Tian plants and herbs are displayed, attracting the attention of scholars and alchemists.
Luciana, noticing the party's interest, leads them to a tent filled with various goods. "If you need to trade, buy, or sell, you've come to the right place. We've got everything from everyday necessities to rare items you won't find elsewhere."
Kendren shook Marya's hand. "I'm afraid I don't actually know. I remember eating trail rations from my pack, but...so much of what has happened since the night Jando told me about is a blur. Perhaps, as suggested by Coral, I did not, but have found my way back as you did." A sudden smile crossing his face, he said, "Perhaps the grace of Sarenrae watched over me and guided me to where I needed to be. I can see you are not entirely sure of me. I hope that I will be able to prove myself worthy of your trust, eventually, Cleric of the Inheritor."
Kendren found the sight of the Baramasco to be rather amusing, a much more lighthearted and joyful affair than that which they'd left. It felt good to be among such vibrant and lively people. As he had little need for anything, he offered to watch the wagon while the others traded for what they needed.
Coral is astonished at the assortment of goods that the Baramasco Caravan has to offer. She is even more astonished at the share that she receives when the gear is sold and the coin is distributed. She had been to market days in Three Pines Ford, but the amount of wealth changing hands here is simply unbelievable.
Ten thousand gold coins? More?
It feels like legends of the Witchmarket, and she expects the vendor's prices to be not gold but something like her fondest childhood memory. Fortunately, the traders deal in coin.
Coral settles on a fantastical array of goods. A magic belt that makes her even more agile; impossibly light and supple armor as hard as dragonscale; a magic shield; and, magic lenses called Eyes of the Eagle.
+2 Dex belt (4,000)
+1 Mithral Chain Shirt (2,100)
+1 Buckler (1,155)
Eyes of the Eagle (2,500)
Total = 9,755
Share is 12,000 so remaining is 2,245 (or 2,305 with selling her old chain shirt and rapier)
Damian settles on a pair of marble-soled leather boots with red embroidery on the cuffs. The rest of his share he stashes carefully, thinking that it might come in handy once they reach Vigil.
Lola also needs boots, and looks around for something which will keep her light on her feet.
She finds a pair of nice boots with little stamps that have pups on them, and scrounges for loose coin and gems to trade.
She then approaches Luciana - ”Oye, ¿como te va? It’s been a while for me since I’ve played for a big living audience. Do you mind if I play some music for your customers, for tips?” She taps the body of La Guitarra enthusiastically.
Luciana exclaims with a beaming smile. "Music is the soul of our caravan, and we are always delighted to have a new performer grace us with their talent. Your music will undoubtedly add to the joy and spirit of our gathering."
She gestures broadly to a space near the center of the caravan, where various patrons are already mingling, eating, and browsing wares. "Set up right here. This is where you’ll catch the most ears and, hopefully, the most tips."
Luciana’s eyes then fall upon La Guitarra, and her smile broadens. "Ah, a musician's heart speaks through their instrument. I can tell La Guitarra is special to you. Play your heart out, and let's bring some extra cheer to this place."
As Lola begins to set up, Luciana calls out to the nearby merchants and customers, "Gather round, everyone! We are in for a treat. A talented musician is about to share her music with us. Let’s show our appreciation for her art!"
The crowd begins to gather, drawn by Luciana's announcement and the promise of live music.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Lola nods appreciatively and removes her hat with a flourish, placing it in front of herself on the ground. With a click and a snap, her porcelain face mask comes off - and the party can see the elegantly drawn face paint - still in place after days of adventuring, framing her dark eyes. ”Ahh, gracias Luciana. I cannot promise it will not entice them to make me fabulously wealthy - but I will restrain myself if I can.” She winks at the caravaneer and swings La Guitarra around to rest the neck in her hand. She tests the strings hesitantly, but the instrument needs barely any tuning before the chord sounds perfect, and she nods appreciatively, ”qué bueno.” She looks up and clears her throat- ”generally I sing the songs of my homeland, and this - this much the same, but … it is new. I do not know how I learned it - one of many great mysteries… It is call Caleverita. I hope you enjoy it.”
She starts to play carefully, and sings along to the music, her fingers picking the melody out as from the air itself.
Si el corazón me acompaña
Quiero invitar al tiempo
Para que me abran las puertas
Me arrulle en los recuerdos
Esos que abrazan el alma
Y abren el sentimiento
Oh oh
Cuando toco ese pañuelo
Las penas se despiden
Puedo abrazar a mi abuelo
Pa que jamás se olvide
Que hasta las nubes lo quiero
Aunque en el cielo vive
Oh
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Lola continues, and her toes tap back and forth, making quiet clicks rhythmically, in time to the music, as if they are gripped - or animated by some unseen force, and she’s just trying to keep up.
Para el altar tengo flores
Naranjas pa' mi mezcal
Todititas tus pasiones
Quiero celebrar
She pauses, laughs merrily, and starts to move around the makeshift stage, and after pausing for dramatic effect, sings what must be the chorus.
Cala-cala calavera calaverita
Enciendes una velita
En mi corazón
Cala-cala calavera la noche invita
Los muertos bailan con mi canción
Her feet slow down a bit, and her tempo does, but she’s moving faster than she was at first, or at least more energetically.
Yo no le temo a la muerte
Porque ella es parte mía
Nació conmigo y conmigo
Se irá algún día
Por ella estamos de fiesta
Toda la vida
Oh oh
Que salga a mover la pata
Esa huesuda
Con la tía buena y la mala
Bajo la luna
Los vivos y los difuntos
Celebran juntos
Oh
Para el altar tengo flores
Naranjas pa' mi mezcal
Todititas tus pasiones
Quiero celebrar
As she finishes, she approaches individual audience members, and sings to them briefly, before smiling and stepping away. She increases her energy, bouncing off her heels, gesturing and waving, but somehow, her playing stays in time with a steady beat - nearly perfectly. The ending builds, and builds and she does the final chorus as a crescendo of movement, song, and melody - masterfully blending the three in a manner rarely seen in Lastwall - a performance only for this market at this time.
Cala-cala calavera
Cala-cala calavera la noche invita
Los muertos bailan con mi canción
Calacala calavera calaverita
Enciendes una velita
En mi corazón
Cala-cala calavera la noche invita
Los muertos bailan con mi canción
Los muertos bailan con mi canción
The performance is exceptional in many ways, and Lola knows it. Confidently, breathing heavily, she returns to her hat, and with a warm smile, bows to all assembled, deeply and thankfully. Straightening up, she gesture at her hat, and says to Luciana, ”lo siento, I could not restrain myself!” She chuckles, and says to the small crowd, ”if you enjoyed this - shop well! She was kind enough to give me a small stage, she deserves thanks!” Her cheeks darken slightly where they peek out from the makeup, and she breathes heavily and carefully.
Marya takes her time making sure that she purchases items that will be maximally useful for her. She pauses to listen to Lola’s performance. She finds a place where she can listen without being seen. After failing to speak up for Lola before and failing to keep her from dying to the fey, Marya still feels shame that she does not want to mar Lola’s performance with. Still, she cannot help but grin to herself as Lola performs such a lovely and soulful song.
8185.50
10.5
Damian cannot hear the music, but he sees Lola's energy and skillful movement and a smile disrupts the grief and worry lines that have etched themselves into his features. He claps enthusiastically when the performance is over, smiling more broadly at Lola.
There are not that many things that he needs, or that he can afford, save for that new pair of boots, so the rest of his time he spends wandering around the caravan and watching people, offering his help wherever needed - whether it is to entertain a group of kids or to help fix damage to carts or stalls with the help of a simple orison.
After so many weeks of horror and danger, it is difficult to fall back into the rhythms of a normal life, so while the Sarenite enjoys the simple pleasures of food, drink and company, his eyes keep turning back to the road with the keen awareness that their work is not done yet, and the threat that could wipe all the life, joy and beauty from the world is still out there.