
Aithaloessa Cyana |

Aithaloessa flushes, eyes still somewhat glazed, as if just coming down from what in retrospect can’t actually have been a fever, exactly. She’s mortified as she realizes her state after grubbing through the dirt and ashes, and the stuff growing on her right arm, though what it all means fizzes through her head like a rocket.
“I … I don’t know,” she confesses, looking down at the pistol in her hand. Once a guard in Alkenstar, where smuggling can be … a bit of a problem, she can tell that the thing is a beautiful antique, and in exquisite condition. It doesn’t really look much like a box to her, but that’s quibbling, and she wonders what the bit about ice meant, though the weapon’s metal is surprisingly cool in her fingers. She feels a definite headache coming on. Is this what sorcerers feel like when they … awaken? “Something happened: I’ve been studying for a while, but this morning the pieces just finally all seemed to fall into place.”
A small part of her wonders if she bumped her head on her way down yesterday, and she’s actually hallucinating all this in the grips of debilitating injury. Still somewhat dazed, she joins the others to help a bit more with clearing the chapel, her body mutely protesting by the time night falls and everyone gathers around the campfire.
“Please tell me this isn’t how all mages are initiated,” she jokes feebly, with a slight groan. “Then again, I’m sure my partner would have mentioned it.”
Hurrah! After dinner, Aith can see about spreading some healing about. I think she can manage a CLW each for herself, Antarah, and Yasmeena.

Tariq Ibn Ziyad |

Of course, I've still to update the alias, but I can anticipate quite surely that Tariq will have 3 spell slots you can all dispose of for healing. Feel free to roll yourselves 1d8+2 if you feel you need it.

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Aithaloessa sounds like a very complex character mechanically...
Antarah says "I have never seen a sorcerer's awakening, but I imagine it is not pleasant overall. Do you feel... bad? A temple to Sarenrae seems like a fitting place to awaken."

Tariq Ibn Ziyad |

While putting the altar room a bit together, Tariq remembers the book he found. It was dessecreted and deteriorated, but he thankfully has memorized a spell to restore it partially (Mending). He then asks his companions if anyone can fully clean it (Prestidigtation, maybe?).
He then spends the rest of the time taking care of Aith, worried about the strange mark the ooze has left on his arm. Sadly, until Almah comes with the caravan, they have no medical materials left.

Aithaloessa Cyana |

Antarah says "I have never seen a sorcerer's awakening, but I imagine it is not pleasant overall. Do you feel... bad? A temple to Sarenrae seems like a fitting place to awaken."
I forget, most of you all are Sarenites. :) “Actually, all things considered, I feel wonderful,” Aithaloessa decides after a moment’s thought, gazing into the middle distance as if her thoughts are worlds away. “I’ve been dreaming of this for a long time.” *Shy giggles.* She’s pining for her gf, to be honest.
As the night and quiet deepens, at one point, during a moment of stillness, Aithaloessa considers everyone’s wounds, and then says, “If you’d allow me – and I know this is rather self-assured – I think I’ve finally figured this much out…”
It’s nowhere near as graceful as the song Yasmeena’s composing, and Aith often fumbles her own thread, but gradually she gets more confident as she begins to recite a repetitive incantation in Elven, her hands beginning to glow with positive energy. It’s definitely not a prayer, but there’s an undertone or submerged motif that sounds just a bit like the rhythm in Tariq’s magic, like a bit of borrowed inspiration. Cure light wounds, for Aith: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7 For Yasmeena: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6 For Antarah: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
And I will take you up on your offer, Tariq. Topping it off with his divine magic: CLW, again, for Aith: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6 Oh, that's just perfect. Shame about Aith's roll for Antarah, though. Also, Antarah’s already tried or finished cleaning the pages with prestidigition, I think, so mend away, sir! :)
The effort is clearly draining. So that’s what it feels like to channel all one’s higher energies through the one spell, she muses, relapsing into quiet. It’s enough to mostly distract her from the question of just what it might mean that her inspiration has come just after finding what sounds like it might be a copy, she supposes, of the weapon of one of the genie Templars in the book Antarah found, and that it’s connected to what was growing in the vault below. It helps that it seems to bloom on her own arm only when she’s got the pistol in hand, though that raises other questions and concerns. And it’s mold, she frets fastidiously. If it was vines or flowers, at least… Oh. Something else to think about.

Tariq Ibn Ziyad |

Tariq is really impressed at Aith's feat of replicating his curing prayers. She did more than that, even - she created her own conduct for magic. "Oh my! Have you been praying in secret?" he jokes. He's thankful that someone can share the burden of having healing magic at the group's disposal, and smiles wholeheartedly at the young girl's enthusiasm.
"Maybe that's how Haleen felt when she helped one of those kids in the streets... like me."

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Antarah is impressed and says "Wow, that is some magic. I don't know how to do that". Afterwards, he comments on the mold growing on her arm "I wonder if it's the same type of mold growing on that door to the lab..." and suggests comparing them.

Aithaloessa Cyana |

Aithaloessa actually blushes, wishing her partner were here to see her. “Thanks. I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it for ages, and finally… But I had a wonderful teacher.”
To Antarah’s comment, she adds humbly, “And someone else told me about people who’ve studied that.”
She gestures somewhat vaguely, referring to her unusual technique. “The Magaambya is quite generous with its mysteries, to all people with a good heart. One day I’d like to actually visit, myself.” Qualifying for the prestige class as a magus might require a quibble, but if Antarah’s deathly curious, I don’t think it’s too late for him to pivot to the magic warrior archetype, if he’s interested in masks and a notional end-game splash of druid magic.
Returning to the present, she shivers in the chill air of the desert night as the conversation returns gently to the stuff growing – sometimes – on her too, now. “We should check in the morning, when we’ll be in better shape in case some of the stuff is actually poisonous.” Or if there’s more of that slime, she concludes silently.
And then … and then Aith has additional plans, if we have time to kill while waiting for the caravan to show up. Anyone up for a field trip? *Smiles mysterious elf smile.* ;)

Yasmeena |

Once everyone is resting comfortably and Aithaloessa breaks out her healing spells, Yasmeena follows up with some curing magic of her own.
CLW on Antarah: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
I think Aith and Tariq are the only ones still injured? Let me know if I've missed someone. Might as well top everyone off.
CLW on Aithaloessa: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
CLW on Tariq: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

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TYVM all the healers (basically everyone except me). Feels so good to be full HP again. I had forgotten how it feels like.
In the morning, Antarah gets up early, and as he is preparing his spells as usual, he realizes what made so much sense in that book. The description of joining weapons in the creature's limbs makes him realize how he can infuse his weapon with some aggressive spells. That makes him finally understand a few spells he studied but didn't make sense to him then, so he writes them down in his spellbook. At the same time, he feels he can store more energy in his body. This has been an enlightening experience for him, and he offers a prayer to Sarenrae the enlightenment.
@Aith: I was willing to go back to summon the caravan, but what did you have in mind?

Aithaloessa Cyana |

After a mercifully deep night’s sleep, Aithaloessa wakes with grateful new confidence in her ability to actually work out the magic she’s been studying. As part of preparing for the day, she she turns the pistol she found over and over in her hands, trying to make sense of what inspired her to search the garden, and also trying not to freak out because of what grows on her right arm when she handles the weapon. Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 8 + 2 + 1 = 23 Scanning the thing with detect magic for any clues, just in case.
There’s definitely more than a spark of magic there, as she quickly discovers. Investigation is more like jumping into a wildfire, and the pistol slips from her hand as she gasps, trying to get her bearings again. At least two secrets, and possibly dangerous, to look into, then, Aithaloessa thinks, opening a new mental case file with a wary shake of her head. Let’s at least try to be careful.
She loads the thing almost gingerly, trying not to think too much about how right it feels on her hip when she’s done, despite the moldy scurf it brings when it’s in her hand. Once she’s ready, she asks, “Let’s just check that that moldy door does actually go where we thinks, and there aren’t any more nasty surprises? And then I think we can report back.”
Aith would like to do some herb gathering, on the way, though it will slow travel down a bit, unless we’re planning to split up between messengers and folks holding the fort, as it were. She’d like to look for some angelstep, which will come in handy if we’re getting knocked around as much as we have been the past couple of days. Anyone that wants to provide even untrained Kn. (nature) checks to help would be welcome. :)

Foxy Quickpaw |

The moldy door is more of an annoyance than a hindrance. with enough people helping it can be pushed open and - no surprise here - leads down to the laboratory.
One thing you notice though is the stink that starts to waft through the monastery and the flies that swarm around the dead bodies lying around everywhere.

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Antarah comments "We should probably get rid of the dead bodies before calling the princess in." As soon as they're ready, he leads the way back to the caravan.

Tariq Ibn Ziyad |

Tariq nods. "Yes, we should get rid of the corpses. I suggest, though, that a pair of us go tell the caravan while the rest start here working on it." He looks at Aith's arm. "I'm worried about that, and would like supplies and Father Zastorian to be here early better than late."

Aithaloessa Cyana |

Aithaloessa relaxes a bit when it proves that there are no other nasty slimy, fungal surprises through the other entrance to the lab. Nonetheless, she eyes the apparatus somewhat uneasily, and is visibly relieved when she returns to the ground floor and open air. I’ll have to soak, scour, or otherwise clean all that glassware at some point. I suppose it’s too much to hope that enough has survived to cobble together a fully functional, proper alchemist’s lab? Asking for some friends. :)
She considers the view from the tumbled openings into the nave, assessing the terrain of what must once have been the monastery’s lands for any promising signs in the hills and their scrub before that all gives way to the harshest part of the desert. She notes a few likely spots, and resolves to check them as soon as she has a moment. Know (nature): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Depending on how much cabin (cathedral?) fever folks are feeling, Aith’s perfectly happy to join whoever’s going all the way to the caravan, or foraging closer to the monastery. And, despite her good luck with that roll, the invitation to gather flowers (or mushrooms, as the case may be) stands.

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Antarah says "I propose I stay here with Tariq to clean up as best as we can while you three go talk to the caravan. We'll do our best."

Foxy Quickpaw |

Aitahloessa, Yasmeena and Ibhrim leave the monastery in direction of the Sultan's Claw. This takes veeery long, as Aithaloessa runs off to check every tree that comes in sight to check if some angelstep grows on it. But finally you arrive at the famous landmark tree. And Aithaloessa found ane dose of that fungus.

Aithaloessa Cyana |

Antarah says "I propose I stay here with Tariq to clean up as best as we can while you three go talk to the caravan. We'll do our best."
“Thanks,” Aithaloessa acknowledges. “We’ll be back as soon as we can, hopefully with more hands to really firm things up a bit, in case any gnolls start feeling bold.”
Aitahloessa, Yasmeena and Ibhrim leave the monastery in direction of the Sultan's Claw. This takes veeery long, as Aithaloessa runs off to check every tree that comes in sight to check if some angelstep grows on it. But finally you arrive at the famous landmark tree. And Aithaloessa found ane dose of that fungus.
Yay! *Frolics!*
Despite her brisk nod, and the austere style of her light armour, Aithaloessa is evidently in high spirits, happy to get a break from the ruined monastery (and, perhaps, influenced by whatever force of inspiration struck her there). Despite the heat of the sun, she scampers with enthusiasm slightly to and fro off the path back to the caravan, even as her search (and even she would have to admit it) drags on a bit. But persistence pays off, and once she finds what she’s looking for, she wraps a suitable portion up for later processing, making sure that there’s enough left for future seasons and travellers.
With that, she turns to finding Garavel to report that the monastery has been cleared, allowing for room for improvement in terms of ongoing security.

Tariq Ibn Ziyad |

Once alone, Tariq puts his hands to the job. "Shall we start with moving the corpses outside?" he proposes. "We'll see what we can do afterwards. I'd like to restore that altar room, though we will need a lot of help and time, I'm afraid."

Yasmeena |

Yasmeena watches the path they take and the immediate area surrounding where Aithaloessa looks for her herbs. "What is that stuff you collected, my dear?" she asks, curious, when they are traveling again. "I know a bit about animals and plants but I confess I know nothing about their chemical properties, medicinal or otherwise. Does it have something to do with the ammunition for your pistol?"

Aithaloessa Cyana |

Aithaloessa shakes her head, chatting cheerfully as she keeps an eye out for the leaders of the caravan.
“It’s for first aid,” she explains. “It encourages circulation, but also clotting, so if someone’s badly wounded – like, say, from collapsing a ceiling on oneself, or picking a fight with a swarm of little monsters – it can be quite useful.”
She’s obviously still rueful about the whole chapel remodeling debacle, as she gestures to a bit of the iridiscent chunk of mushroom peeking out from its wrapping, “It can be used raw, but it’s even better ground and strained into a … a kind of body paint, I guess. Produces a lovely mother-of-pearl colour.”
She quiets for a bit, lost in reminiscence, before shaking it off, smiling shyly. “They say it grows where djinn have walked. Suits our monastery quite well then, I think.”

Foxy Quickpaw |

The cleaning up of the monastery is actually much less of an hassle than thought. It is a lot of work, but nothing that can't be done with persistance. The bodies are all small, but the spider. And the spider is mostly legs and can be dragged out.
The ceiling of the chapel broke into conveniently small pieces. So there it's also just a question of how many travels back and forth one needs to get rid of everything. But a thought strikes Tariq: Some of that garbage could be useful. And so he stores the wood in the nave at the southern wall. The rest of the garbage and the bodies are piled up for burning some 50 foot away from the manastery. Within four hours most of the garbage is gone. The rest would be a job for a broom and a mop to get out the pebbles and the sand that are left. But such tools are absent here.

Foxy Quickpaw |

As the two women approach the caravan, the guards inform Garavel and Princess Almah about the arrival.
Garavel steps out of the tent. "Greetings."
"I assume you bring good news?" he inquires, as only two of the group come back. Though the mood of the women doesn't suggest bad news.

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Antarah nods at Tariq's suggestion and starts working. He behaves like a boy who has never done heavy lifting in his life and has always thought that he would handle it beautifully if required. As he takes the third body outside, he clears some sweat from his forehead as if he'd been working all day long. But, unwilling to show weakness to Tariq, he continues moving bodies outside and is secretly thankful that there aren't any cleaning tools around, lest they should start sweeping the floor and scrubbing.
After all the bodies have been moved, he silently goes on to the nave to start clearing rubble. After a while, he says "This isn't so bad.", thankful that they are protected from the sun.
As they stop for some lunch, Antarah's hands are sore, but he hides it as best he can. He says "That elf seemed to know what to do to bring that wooden structure where the pugwampis were down, didn't she... Hopefully she'll know how to build things up too."

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Antarah Khaled wrote:And that from the Magus with prestidigitation prepared... is secretly thankful that there aren't any cleaning tools around, lest they should start sweeping the floor and scrubbing.
I had actually forgotten about that spell. However, it would make sense for Antarah to not want to clean, given that he's a papa's boy. He has some growing up due.

Aithaloessa Cyana |

You mean there’s three prince(esse)s in this caravan? Between Almah, Antarah, and Aith, the more honest folks are going to have their hands full. :p
As the two women approach the caravan, the guards inform Garavel and Princess Almah about the arrival.
Garavel steps out of the tent. "Greetings."
"I assume you bring good news?" he inquires, as only two of the group come back. Though the mood of the women doesn't suggest bad news.
Aithaloessa snaps instinctively to attention, and reports briskly, “We’ve taken the old monastery. More annoying pugwampis, and a few other creatures to clear out, so it took stern measures to establish our hold.”
She says so with remarkable sang-froid, given what a spectacle she imagines the burning garden must have produced, but inwardly taking comfort in the fact that noticing how much of a mess was made in the temple proper by dislodging the pugwampi nest would take either a more curious or a better trained eye than she anticipates having to deal with.
She does admit, however, “Securing the monastery properly will take more hands, but for now there are a few rooms with mostly four walls and a roof, and no more monsters throughout. It seems it did need an exorcism some time ago, but we noticed no disturbances of that sort. I think we’re ready to move in.”

Yasmeena |

Yasmeena's florid bow looks almost choreographed beside Aithaloessa's snappy salute, though this is probably simply her natural poise shining through their success. "The others remained behind to continue cleaning and sanctifying the building, as it had been defiled by those unlucky creatures and wild baboons. But I am sure it will soon be restored to its proper state, once our noble patron takes her possession." She beams. "We uncovered some quite interesting lore in the surviving artwork that I'm sure Antarah will be glad to share with you in detail, once you are able to set aside a few hours of time to listen."

Foxy Quickpaw |

The whole camp knows the drill. The mercenaries are first to pack up their little belongings in backpacks and bury the campfire. The camel drivers prepare the camels for Princess Almah and Garavel. Garavel packs the important papers and valueables from the tent and the personal guards of Almah carry them to the wagon.
Father Zastoran is independant of that and only packs into his wagon what he took out for his convenience. Like some chair and a table, to sit there in the mornings or the evenings, and to have more room in his wagon.
Princess Almah then comes out of the tent and mounts her camel, using a special ladder, that is put there by her guards. Two of those personal guards stay with Almah, while the other two instruct the mercenaries to dismantle the tent and pack everything on the wagon.
Last, Hadrod collects the cooled down wood from the fire and Hadrah pulls out the sticks, that create the fence for the goats.
The caravan lines up in traveling order. Princess Almah, accompanied by Garavel surrounded by her guards first. Then Father Zastoran and his wagon, the princess' wagon, the mercenaries, and last Hadrah and Hadrod with their wagon and the animals. Aithaloessa and Yasmeena are assigned as rearguards.
Garavel rides his camel once around the whole caravan and checks the camp site once more to ensure nothing got lost. As he arrives at the side of Almah again he gives the order to move.
Dashki walks in some distance besides the caravan.

Aithaloessa Cyana |

It doesn’t look that bad from here, all things considered, Aithaloessa tries to convince herself, as the caravan approaches.
Nonetheless, as she nods to Garavel, her posture becomes rigid, as if the right carriage can make up for the state of the place. Or at least conceal her nervousness about it.
“As you can see, the most glaring challenge to defensibility is the openings in the side of the nave,” she begins. She moves quickly, but not too, she hopes, and is impressed by how well Tariq and Antarah were able to set things in order. “Refectory, dormitories…”
She rattles off minimal commentary, letting Yasmeena do much of the talking. The bookish guardswoman does, however, lament the disastrous state the group found the library in, and remarks on architectural points of the most salience for the caravan’s present purposes – chokepoints to be reinforced, the vulnerability of the passage through the undercrypt, for example.
“There were too many things nesting in the cloister garden for comfort,” she explains obliquely, to account for the expanse of ashes and the scorch marks lapping up against the west side of the cloister, stretching a point, since the stirges were a room or two off, and leaving the description of the decoration to true believers. She doubts Garavel would be interested in her theoretical interest in what sorts of magic the reliefs suggest.
She winds things up (fittingly, and in more ways than one) with the chapel, pointing out the record of the exorcism left in the east transept chamber on the way. Mounting the stairs to where, again, Antarah and Tariq have done an impressive job clearing her mess, she is especially careful to acknowledge the monastery’s current ranking Sarenite cleric.
“… and here we are at the heart – or head – of things,” Aithaloessa concludes, referring vaguely to the central altar in the sacred space. “The pugwampis nesting here made a bit of a mess.”
She fobs off any hint of taking responsibility with what would be breathtaking impudence, if she looked any more satisfied than she does. Silently, she dares the other adventurers to comment. ;)

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Antarah accompanies the touring people, walking in the back, looking to the sides, half expecting to see a baboon jump towards them. He doesn't show the book they found, although he does his best to remember the names in it.

Yasmeena |

Yasmeena recounts what she remembers from each battle as they survey the scene, laughing merrily to downplay the damage. "Yes, and it was a close thing. Fortunately for us the balcony where they had made their last stand was rotten and came down easily, or we would not have survived their counterattack."
Diplomacy or Bluff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12

Tariq Ibn Ziyad |

Tariq greets the newcomers. He prefers not to talk, seeing how everyone is making such an effort to cover With. Deep inside, he laughs, as the situation is quite comical, but he knows if he speaks everyone would be able to tell he's lying.
Yes, he knows lying is bad. But the girl did the best she could to accomplish the mission, and tried to save her companions from harm. He's sure Sarenrae will appreciate this and forgive Aith. After all, buildings are just stone and wood.

Garavel __ |

"That is a fine place for us to make camp. A vast improvement over the open place at the Sultan's Claw." Garavel muses. He doesn't say a word about any damage or the fire, and you can't tell from his face which is lacking emotional expressions if he cares about that at all.
"Please be so kind and help clean out the library. That is the room Princess Almah will move in."

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Antarah goes to the library and begins working moving things out to open some space. He eventually asks Garavel "Shall we bring one of the beds in the nearby rooms, or does the her Grace have something in her caravan?" It still doesn't occur to him that he can use magic to perform cleaning duties.

Yasmeena |

Yasmeena quickly covers her face and turns away to avoid Garavel seeing her smirk or the twinkle in her eye. That man has some powerful feelings hidden beneath his stony exterior, she thinks brightly.

Almah Roveshki |

With the help of the mercenaries the library is quickly emptied and the remains are salvaged as fuel for fire in the nave. As it is cleared, Princess Alma moves in and two of her personal guards take position at the door.
"I need the secretary there, my bed over there, and the curtain put along this line." she tells, pointing from wall to wall.
"The table and the pillows go there. The wall carpets there and there."
The mercenaries carry the furniture from the cart to the entrance, while Almah's personal guards carrry it inside. First they place the pillows and the table, so Princess Almah can rest.
Then the rest of the room is quickly changed into a nice home with all due comfort.

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When he gets the chance, Antarah goes talk to Garavel. He says "The princess seems to start her work making this more comfortable for her. I'm sure it will be suitable for her, at least for now. I am also prepared to do the work I've been hired to do, but I do wonder... Is Kelmarane far from here?"
As he speaks, the large man strokes the handle of his sword. Not intending to imply that he would draw it, but like he would stroke the head of a valued bird.

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Antarah keeps thinking of a way to ask how soon he plans on going there without being disrespectful, but gives up and only walks away, trying to occupy himself, maybe by clearing more rubble or something of the sort.

Aithaloessa Cyana |

I can be annoying in all sorts of ways on everyone's behalf, Antarah, don’t worry! ;)
As part of the clean-up, Aithaloessa squirrels away some of the sorry tatters left of the library’s former glories: she has uses even for pages too fragile, blotted, scraped and overwritten to be reused for literary purposes.
She approves of Almah’s redecorating, and wonders longingly if she’ll ever be able to travel in such style. Possibly with the help of extradimensional shenanigans. She’d have to ask some friends for advice. Well, one friend especially, but anyway.
She follows up Antarah’s questions to Garavel with one of her own, hinting tactfully at some of the practicalities of the situation.
“Well, that’s what we’re here for,” she says, meaning herself and the other specialists. “Do we have an idea of when we should be setting out? Some of us might have skills and, especially, spells that might be particularly useful here or in Kelmarane proper, but we’d need a day to switch between the two and be at all productive.”

Aithaloessa Cyana |

“Not yet, I’m afraid, but I’m working on wrapping my head around something that should help reinforce fortifications once I do. Managing the forces to move so much dirt and rubble in a heartbeat is … difficult,” Aithaloessa carefully manages expectations. Her tone is humble and quietly awed, but excited, eyes agleam with the wonder of an apprentice having only just managed to reliably cast the few spells she knows.
I have plans, but it will probably have to wait a bit, unless we rather improbably run into a very helpful druid or spellbook or something.
Once it seems that the most involved stages of getting everyone settled in are well underway, she excuses herself. She has, after all, some mushrooms to look after before their virtue evaporates into the dry desert heat. She slips off to the lab which she’s made it abundantly clear she intends to claim, and sets to clearing some space and cleaning some of the equipment in place. Before too long, people passing by the stairs down might hear the soft tinkle of glassware and a thread of quiet Elven song, as Aithaloessa keeps her mind occupied too through the more tedious side of her work.
Craft (alchemy), DC 15: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26 Oh, wunderschön! Not bad for a day's work. That nets us a dose of angel/djinnistep pigment, which, while handy, I hope we won't actually need to use any time soon. :)

Father Zastoran |

While Aithaloessa's alchemical work is well underway, she realizes, that her she only made it abundandly clear to her companions, that she'd claim the lab.
Father Zastoran begs to differ on that one. He directs the mercenaries who carry his large potion chest down into the lab. And right after they put it down at the wall he starts unpacking, like he owns the place.
"I see you too are dabbling with potions. But the way you do looks very different from what I do. Are you a herbalist?"

Yasmeena |

Yasmeena spends the remaining time cleaning up the temple and relaxing in it. She entertains herself by imagining what it looked like before the pugwampi moved in, which she feels is close enough to prayer to not feel out of place. Not for the first time she wonders where her friend Haleen went, and thinks hopeful thoughts toward Sarenrae that they are on the same path.