When Auguste is in view of the scorpion, his mount stops with alarm. He dismounts hastily.
Dismounting less than gracefully, Auguste steadies himself and fires his crossbow at the scorpion.
Emil, seeing people's equine issues, simply rides up to the wall and dismounts (his surprise round action), leaving his horse behind the wall while he peeks at the opponent.
Round 1:
Thaddeus
Auguste
Scorpion
Emil
Aayef
The giant scorpion takes a stab at something at the base of the wall, then turns and scuttles directly at the party.
Emil's eyes go wide as the vermin bears down. He draws blade and raises his mug. "Cayden's blessings on you all, except for the oversized lobster."
With a shout, a slight armored figure lumbers after the creature, waving a sword.
Round 1:
Dawni
Round 2:
Thaddeus
Auguste
Scorpion
Emil
Aayef
Dawni
"Oh my," breathes Thaddeus as the creature gets larger and larger in front of him. "Well, er... shall we, then?" he asks his companions, drawing his sword and stepping into the fray.
Thaddeus delivers a heavy blow to the creature, cutting through its shell and causing more oozing g@*+ to join the product of Dawni's arrow.
Dawnilea slides off the horse and rushes forward, drawing her cutlass as she does, then spins as she closes to drive the blade through the creature's thick armour.
for
Auguste steps back and reloads his crossbow. Rather than firing, however, he casts a quick spell.
The scorpion remains on its feet and, having a tasty target within easy reach, does not attempt to move. Instead, it turns its arachnid fury on Thaddeus.
Round 2:
Thaddeus
Auguste
Scorpion
Emil
Aayef
Dawni
Off her horse and cutlass in hand, Dawni rushes up to support Thaddeus, bringing the curved blade down into the beast.
for
"Scorpion tail for dinner anyone? I hear they taste just like lobster!" The Cleric of the Drunken Power calls to his companions with a grin, before attempting the more serious action of doing damage to said scorpion before it turns back to him!
Emiliano rushes in to attack the stingy foe, which takes advantage of his haste by jabbing its sting in his direction as he moves in.
The scorpion scores a lucky hit on the cleric, who feels a nasty burning wash through him as the sting pierces his armor. Emil's rapier returns the favor, though without the poison
Aayef clumps up, taking advantage of the scorpion's attempt to end the cleric, and closes in opposite Thaddeus, giving himself the advantage of distraction.
Dawni also closes with the poor animal, cleaving it mightily. It remains, however, on all its feet.
Round 3:
Thaddeus
Auguste
Scorpion
Emil
Aayef
Dawni
Auguste moves to a better position and fires his crossbow at the scorpion.
(doubled on successful crit)
Thaddeus continues swinging his sword at the creature.
August shoots the pointy beast in a soft spot, but it is Thaddeus's blade that causes it to collapse in a heap of twitching legs, pincers, and stinger.
A young lad in armor bearing a fancy sword stands across the carnage from you. He places his free hand on his breast and bows deeply, the sleeve of his bright blue shirt torn and dyed red with blood.
"Many thanks, friends. I was fending it off decently before you arrived, but could not figure out how to kill the thing. It kept pounding on me..." He trails off, staring at the creature. "Your pardon, my name is Aayef. May I know who my saviors are?"
As the scorpion falls and the young man expresses thanks, Emiliano feels a burning wash through him, leaving him feeling weak and woozy.
Dawnilea says, "We are training partners of your mother that she asked to return you home safely. I am Dawnilea Harpefax, blade of Arshea."
"Well-Met! I am,... whoa!,..."
Emil shudders and his knees visibly turn to pudding for a moment, he recovers his balance by using his rapier as a cane. (Frowning as he imagines his teachers fussing at him for such a thing!)
"Apologies. Apparently I am poisoned. Most unpleasant."
The cleric notices that the cut from the scorpion sting was just a little larger than he had thought. And that his shirt is soaked with a lot more blood than he had thought,...
"Excuse me,..." Emil mutters, holding aloft his travel mug and filling it with a whispered prayer.
"To life!" he declares, his speech slurred (which none can recall ever happening to him while drinking!) and takes a sip.
A flash of golden light, and a wave of warm, fuzzy-feeling healing energy flows out from teh cleric to bathe all around him in it's golden glow.
"Beg your pardon. I am Emiliano. Pleasure to meet you sirra!"
After his introduction, Emil takes another sip from his mug, and concentrates on 'cleric, heal thyself!'
The cleric wobbles a little bit (again, can't recall seeing him wobble from drinking too much), but after a few minutes seems to begin recovering his feet, and then looking much better.
Aayef snorts. "My mother sent you? I'm not a child! I could have killed it... eventually."
Now that you have time to look around, you stand on a stone floor that may have been an interior surface. Ahead, steps lead up to a raised dias, well-crafted from smooth stone. A cracked stone shrine stands before the eastern wall. Bones and other detritus litter the floor around the altar.
The thin line of smoke you saw comes from a chunk of twisted deadwood resting atop a pile of ashes in the lee of a fallen stone column. Cinders surrounding the driftwood suggest a recent fire.
Auguste gives a smile. "Allow me to introduce myself: Auguste de Bernardin. We have come all the way to Qadira on an important errand that did not involve saving strapping young heirs from arachnids. Let's get you back so that we can get on with what we came for."
Emil's eyebrows raise as he realizes where the group is standing. Or at least what it once was.
Dawnilea nods, "I've no doubt you could, but I will say I've heard many stories of men who have done that -- but then succumbed to the poison afterward."
Thaddeus smiles broadly at the young man and claps him on the back. "And if you'd died of the poison, who would be able to go back and tell your mother of your victory against the creature?"
Seeing the others taking an interest in their surroundings, the affable fellow follows suit... though he's not really sure what he's looking at.
As Emil surveys the crumbled shrine, he recognizes carvings indicating it was once consecrated to Sarenrae, though the toll taken by vandals, wind, sand, and time have left no trace of a sacred vibration to the place. Still, he can see how it would have once been a lovely place of refuge and worship.
He also notices a bunch of burlap sticking out of the sand near the dying fire.
Suddenly, a deep voice rings out. "Brave adventurers, well done! You have saved a rash but promising young man from a pointless death. I am Soldier's Glory, servant of the noble bastions of the Last Azlanti, and I thank you for your brave deed. You may call me Glory."
Aayef looks at the blade in his hand in surprise. "I didn't think you would speak to anyone besides myself!"
"I speak with anyone with courage and honor approaching that of my first wielder, Aayef," the voice replies.
Auguste's eyes widen. "That is no ordinary sword. Did it speak to you before you took off with it?"
The stripling scuffs his feet, as if caught in a wrongdoing, then suddenly becomes an adult and raises his head proudly. "Yes. She said I was the only one worth talking to she's found in years."
"More like centuries," the sword booms. "Many children of wealth and privilege wish only to remain wealthy and privileged, but Aayef wants more for himself. He is young and perhaps unwise at times, but he has more of a spine than some generals I've known."
Emil gives a small smile as he looks around, his eyes glazing over as he imagines what the place must have looked like in it's glorious, if distant, past.
He points out the burlap sack in the sand to the others, but before he can go to investigate, he is surprised by the voice.
"Cayden's empty mug!" Emil exclaims in surprise, but starting to grin as he does so.
"A talking blade! I have heard the tales of such wonders, but never dared to hope I would see one for myself! Well-met Glory! And thank you for introducing yourself to us."
At the swords' statement of the youth's potential, Emil barks another short, but sincere, laugh.
"Well well Aayef. High praise indeed, considering the source is one who would know. Keep your head attached to your shoulders, and you will find yourself worthy of one of Master Auguste's tales as well!"
The cleric salutes the youth with his mug. (Once again full to the top, and not with water.) And drains half of it in a single swig.
Dawnilea says, "We're actually here, Glory to reunite you to the family of one of your past wielders and restore the - well, glory - that was stolen from her."
”I don’t know that being a subject of my prose is a goal to which any decent person should aspire,” Auguste says sardonically. ”In any event, bravery and character will hopefully take you far in life.”
”As for the sword, we have been tasked with retrieving and restoring it to the Remaio family of Taldor, in whose keeping it had remained for generations. We did not expect to find it had a will of its own. Surely… O Sword… you would seek to be reunited with that noble family.”
There's a moment of silence before Glory speaks again. "I loved Honoria well and revered her for her courage and prowess. But her heirs did not take after her. For long years I was in closets or hung on walls as a decoration, watching and listening. None ever took me up with intent or purpose, none practiced their swordsmanship in an effort to be worthy of me... not until I arrived here, and young Aayef did just that. He may not be of Honoria's blood, but his spirit is kin to hers."
"Remaio sold me, which I do not regret since I met this lad as a result. Why does he wish me returned? I do not refuse; I simply do not understand the change of heart. And what do you mean by stolen glory?"
Dawnilea says, "Politics have stolen Honoria's deeds and honour, tarnishing her story to a tawdry one told with disdain rather than one of glory. I cannot speak for those whose hand you fell into after her death, but I can say that the Remaio we are agents for are working to restore all of that.... and I do not think he would let you simply hang on a wall when there are so clearly things to fight against."
"I do not like Honoria's reputation being besmirched... not at all. Yet Remaio did not seem like much of a fighter, as Aayef is. Let me consider this while we return to the manor."
"But Glory, would you leave me? I value your guidance," Aayef protests.
"Aayef, Honoria had a noble soul and did great deeds. If I can undo an injustice to her, I must try. As a noble soul yourself, surely you see that."
Aayef thinks a moment. "We can discuss this more at home. I assume that is where my mother wishes you to escort me," he says wryly, moving to his attempted campfire and picking up his knapsack.
Dawnilea says, "From what I've seen, he's a fighter of a different sort... and it is he that is leading the way to restore Honoria's reputation -- and influence."
She adds, "I would think that he might benefit greatly from the guidance of one such as yourself in this. And, we can certainly make him promise not to keep you in a display case if you return."
"Where did you plan to go, Aayef? Perhaps there are opportunities for you in the North."
Emil pipes up confidently.
(possibly only because of his seemingly endless supply of liquid courage, but still,...)
"Well, as a priest of the Drunken Cavalier, I can attest that there are many kinds of courage lad. And many kinds of battles. Not every battle is a conflict of steel, and not every drinking competition is a matter of constitution."
Emil waves his once-again full cup for emphasis. He sips and smiles before continuing.
"True that Remaio does not seem the war-leader-general type. Bound for personal honor and glory. But he does seem doggedly determined to restore Honoria's stolen honor. Which takes it's own kind of noble courage. And he seems the type to help others find their noble purpose, and perhaps,... glory."
The young cleric looks sideways at the youth and the enchanted blade.
"Perhaps even for a noble-hearted but over-looked youth, and an honorable but forgotten noble, steel-bladed companion." He grins.
"What you say makes sense. I will go with you to help the Alcasti family, if the Ghazali matriarch is amenable to that," Glory replies, while Aayef looks crestfallen.
"Have no fear, warrior, a high heart and shrewd brain are more important to your cause than any sword. And who knows where our paths may lead? Possibly together again. And if not, meet the circumstance with your head high. Part of life and war is losing companions, Aayef," Glory says more softly to the boy.
Aayef nods and sheathes Glory after carefully wiping her clean. Then he looks to all of you and nods. "I'm ready to go back," he proclaims, with the air of a brave man going to his execution.
Auguste, in an uncharacteristically sympathetic gesture, pats the lad on the back before heading back.
Emil looks thoughtful. Clearly considering his words (for once) before speaking.
"Well,... We WERE tasked with returning you safely to your mother. AND with returning Glory here to our employer. But there is nothing to prevent Glory from being returned to Remaio while being carried by Aayef, once he has let his mother know he is safe, of course."
He looks at the sky as he muses.
"I mean, I'm sure that Honoria's blade would be much more convincing at restoring her lost honor, if said sword were being carried by a noble-hearted person, which would encourage said blade to speak for itself on it's previous owners' noble actions,... Since it is the only one still living who was there to observe her actions and relate them."
Emil shrugs.
"Just thinking aloud." The cleric grins.
Dawnilea shrugs, "Not sure that the blade's testimony would mean much from the mouth of someone not even Taldan. No offense to you Aayef, but the people of Oppara are not terribly welcoming to outsiders, especially when they're playing political games. Hells, I don't even know that it would mean much from our mouths, and some of us have at least some standing in society."
"I don't expect them take the word of Aayef, but perhaps of the blade itself."
"In any event, Aayef can decide his own fate," Auguste says. "I know something of being a foreigner in Oppara, and it has its challenges. If his future plans lie in Qadira, then so be it. If he wishes to travel, who knows what the future holds?"
Your horses have bunched up a short distance away, nervous about the strange noises and smells from the scorpion battle. They don't take much running down to be caught, and Aayef proves useful in the effort. He is comfortable with the beasts, and is happy to swing up behind anyone who offers him a ride home.
Aayef alternates between ebullient excitement and relief with his scorpion adventure and the promise of a trip, and quiet dread at his homecoming. He grows more quiet as the walls of the family estate come into sight.
The guards watch carefully as you approach, and when Aayef waves at them, they whoop. One runs for the house.
Halfway along the walk to the house, you are met by Lady Ghazali, who rushes to embrace her startled son. He accepts it with some embarrassment in front of his new friends.
The Lady releases her son and turns to you. "I am so grateful that you returned my boy, safe and unharmed. As we agreed, the sword is yours. You may take it and be on your way, if you are eager to return, but you are welcome to dine and rest here overnight before you depart, as my honored guests."
Emil manages to hide his amusement (mostly) at Aayef's discomfort at his warm welcome home. It is clear that the lad is well-liked, and not only by his mother.
The cleric is obviously delighted by the invitation to dinner and rest in opulent surroundings. Despite his valiant attempt to seem cavalier about it.
"It was our pleasure Ma'am, I assure you. We were glad to help, but he was doing quite well on his own."
Emil nods towards Aayef. "He is a fine young man, with a good heart. You have raised him well. And Cayden favors the bold, I think he will do well."
" You are most kind, and I for one would be most grateful to accept your invitation milady. Thank you."
Lady Ghazali smiles and claps her hands for a servant, ordering guest rooms to be made ready and extra servings for dinner. "I am glad you can enjoy our hospitality. And, as we discussed, the sword is yours, to return to the last Alcasti heir. He chose his agents well."
Aayef excitedly tells her the story of the shrine and the scorpion, possibly exaggerating his own role somewhat, but lavishly praising your heroism. "And Mother, they said I could go with them to Taldor to talk about Glory - the sword - with the Alcasti family!"
Lady Ghazali looks stern. "All the way to Taldor on your own? I think not!"
"But Mother, I won't be alone, I'll be with them!" Aayef sweeps his hands around the circle of his heroes.
Lady Ghazali turns The Look on you, possibly reminding you of an irate grandmother, mother, nanny, or tutor from the past. "You propose to take my youngest son to Oppara? You realize he is not of age, and you would be responsible for him, on the journey there and back, and during the stay?"