Protectors of Golarion (Wrath of the Righteous AP)

Game Master Sensen

Irabeth nods at the women, her expression relaxing slightly. "Thank you, Azira, Merixia, Verene. I'm certain you will be of great help in this effort."

"I would not go out today." Aravashnial says firmly. "If it is this disruptive within the Heart, it may have magic warping the weather itself, not just its patterns." He rubs his thumb along his staff. "There are reports of such weather manifesting rains of acid, rapid lightning strikes, dark hailstorms, and so on in addition to such unseasonal hurricanes as this."

Anevia nods her agreement. "I'm not sure the stealth will be worth the risk, but I won't say you absolutely shouldn't do it."

Irabeth lifts a hand. "I wasn't planning on going out in this weather anyways. Today, I think we should plan. With that in mind," she turns to Elliot, "I had forgotten about the people of Neathholm. What are their numbers?"

Anevia answers before the magus has a chance to. "Not even forty, and that includes the noncombatants. But they might have gathered more from other tribes... right? He did say they were going to do that." She looks to the party.

Irabeth rubs her chin. "I see. To answer your question, Elliot, I don't believe that the Children are numerous enough to help us fill out the Gray Garrison - especially since we'd have to leave some of our forces behind here to protect the Defender's Heart or bring the refugees to the Garrison proper, which is too great a risk.

"Returning to the questions of timing. I don't think you should risk going out, as Master Aravashnial says. Nor do I believe that it is necessary to destroy the wardstone within a single infiltration - if it gets too risky, retreat. Each strike will wear down the cultists' defenses."

"Vorlesh could be coming any minute, though." One of the priests - a rare Erastilian - says. "If it is not absolutely necessary, retreating should be your last option."

"Sword-knights of the Lady of Valor do not retreat," Azira informs the priest, "but should a tactical withdrawal be absolutely necessary for the success of our mission, it would certainly be undertaken only as a very last resort."

Turning her attention back to Irabeth she asks, "is there a way for us--or for me, I suppose--to be helpful in the planning, or shall I busy myself with helping people and keeping morale up? I could take some guard shifts- cold and acid don't effect me as much as they do most people..."

"It's the same for me. Aasimar blood, and all..." The magus adds, pondering. "Do we have any sort of idea or indication how long this weather will last? If longer than at least a day, and anyone believes it would help, I could volounteer to go back down through the Cave system and see if I could assist Chief Sull with the reinforcements. Maybe he needs someone to tell the other tribes how bad things really are here... or someone to help guide them through the Labyrinth. Everything seems better than just hanging around, waiting for Areelu to finish her project!"

"Apologies for not saying so verbally before, but I am willing to help as well. I merely need know how you wish for me to assist. In regards to the assault on the Gray Garrison, do we have anyone familiar enough with the building to give us a layout so that a couple plans of attack can be made? A couple considering I am currently unaware of the condition of the building," he says when given the chance between speakers.

Irabeth nods at the women, her expression relaxing slightly. "Thank you, Azira, Merixia, Verene. I'm certain you will be of great help in this effort."

Verene looks away from Irabeth's stern faith, feeling a queer tightness in her chest. How I wish I shared that certainty. But it does not matter whether I believe or not, whether I have hope or not. It is too late to run, and no one is coming to save us. No army, no queen, no gods, no angels. "It falls to us to try."

"I would not go out today." Aravashnial says firmly. "If it is this disruptive within the Heart, it may have magic warping the weather itself, not just its patterns." He rubs his thumb along his staff. "There are reports of such weather manifesting rains of acid, rapid lightning strikes, dark hailstorms, and so on in addition to such unseasonal hurricanes as this."

"The strength of the wind alone will make it impossible for any of us to walk any real distance, even before considering other kinds of dangers," Verene adds quietly. "It's enough to make one wish to be traveling through the tunnels under Kenabres again. But the only entrance to them we know of is too far from here, in the southern Gate District near the Blackwing." In those hurricane rules, that's a DC 15 Strength check, not a Fort save, every single round, for a Medium creature to not be literally blown away and take a bunch of nonlethal damage. We have two PCs with Strength modifiers of -1 and one with a +0. There's no way we're going anywhere outdoors before the hurricane stops. Sadly, because we can't get to the tunnels without traveling aboveground first, I would guess this also rules out Elliot or anyone else going down to Neathholm to ask for reinforcements, if Irabeth didn't already send messengers when we told her about Neathholm upon first arriving at the Defender's Heart the day before yesterday.

Anevia answers before the magus has a chance to. "Not even forty, and that includes the noncombatants. But they might have gathered more from other tribes... right? He did say they were going to do that." She looks to the party.

"Yes, he did. Chief Sull said he would attempt to rally the tribes 'loyal to the cause of their ancestors,' so that they might offer their assistance in the future and take the fight to the demons. However, I don't know how long that will take, and he did say they would need to know more about how things stand on the surface before committing their warriors. When we returned to Neathholm to stay a second night, we told his people that the demon-worshipers and cultists that had been attacking them were dispatched, and that the route to the surface was clear, but did not negotiate with him personally for any specific promise of support in return."

"Returning to the questions of timing. I don't think you should risk going out, as Master Aravashnial says. Nor do I believe that it is necessary to destroy the wardstone within a single infiltration - if it gets too risky, retreat. Each strike will wear down the cultists' defenses."

"Vorlesh could be coming any minute, though." One of the priests - a rare Erastilian - says. "If it is not absolutely necessary, retreating should be your last option."

"Well, it is all something of a moot point until the hurricane stops. At the moment, I imagine the demons and their cultists are massed inside their defenses anyway, as they probably don't like being blown about any more than we do. That seems like the opposite of what we want: ideally, they would be scattered around the city, leaving the garrison relatively undefended when we attack it. I don't know how to accomplish that. But what I most want to know is how Masters Orlun and Aravashnial suggest the team actually attacking the Gray Garrison should try to neutralize the broken Wardstone. That is the main goal; if we can't do it, nothing else we do matters."

"Any suggestions you have are welcome, Azira." The knight-commander replies. "How much do you know of the Gray Garrison?"

"Verene is right. The winds are fierce at the moment, and no matter how much a distraction they are for an assault, it is likely that most of the cultists have hunkered down in buildings, including the Garrison." Aneiva nods. "There might be a handful of demons ignoring the weather, but I haven't seen any large enough to do so. Maybe some dretches who are too stupid to go inside, but..."

"Thank you for volunteering, Thesius, Elliot. I believe that we'll do well with your aid." Irabeth says before turning to Verene. "I was in contact with Chief Sull, but that was before we discovered what exactly the cultists' plans were. I intend to send another messenger to him to request what aid he can offer in these attacks.

"Speaking of which, your actions have gotten you other allies. I sent word to Horgus yesterday to see what he is willing to do, if anything. The messenger hasn't returned, but that's likely due to the weather. Furthermore, I cannot ask you to do anything I would not do myself - I would join you in your attacks on the Garrison."

Anevia's brow furrows. "I... I would like to go with you, as well, but I'm in no state to do so. Keep my wife as safe as you kept me, please." She asks of the heroes.

Aravashnial clears his throat. "I also have something that may be of use to you all. In the central parts of New Kenabres, there's a hidden Riftwarden cache. I didn't know for certain that it had survived, but from what I've heard, the area was less damaged than some others. It has some strong potions, wands, bolts enchanted to strike demons down... and few cold iron weapons, as well. If you can recover them, they might help you on your attack."

"More importantly, and in answer to your question, Verene... we do have a means to destroy the wardstone. I found it in a ruined wizard's shop." Quednys says, pulling a long, thin rod from within his robes and placing it on the table. "It is a rod of cancellation. It should drain the magic of the stone... but without seeing it, I don't know how the wardstone's damaged state will affect things. It may cause some sort of backlash."

"However, it will drain what little magic remains in the wardstone, severing it from the network and breaking Vorlesh's plans to warp it and use it against the crusade. Unless, I suppose, she manages to destroy another wardstone."

"Something," Irabeth adds, "that I don't think is possible in the short term, for the Kenabres stone has suffered numerous attacks over the past several years that made this final destruction possible. Almost as if the demons have been planning for this day from the start." Her last sentence is incredibly dry.

Thesius listens intently to the others. Trying to think of any useful information while they discuss.

Knowledge (local) - DC 15: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25
Knowledge (arcana) - DC 20: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14

"It honestly sounds like we may be stuck here for the time being. Beyond creating a plan of attack, is there anything useful we can be doing around here or perhaps close by to mitigate our time out in the current environment?"

He makes a mention note to visit the vendors once more to see if anything comes to mind that might be of use for the new objective.

Azira’s gaze drops to the floor and she shakes her head with something approaching shame when the commander asks about her familiarity with the Gray Garrison. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about it at all,” she confesses, “my mother used to have me take trainees there to see some of the history of the crusades, but I must admit I was always far more interested in chatting with them—and daydreaming about the victories we’d one day have—than in the dusty old relics hanging on the walls…”

She looks down at Radiance hanging at her hip and shakes her head again. “Dusty old relics that have already saved my life, more than once…”

”Perhaps I’d better leave the planning to those with the mind, and the temperament, for it. I can talk with people and tell them there is reason for hope… help keep their morale up… and I can find out what skills and abilities the other survivors have- help them find ways to serve and be useful so they’re not just sitting around wondering, or worrying, about the worst… and I’ll organize some music for the common room, some training drills for anyone who wants to be better prepared to fight, and a quiet place where people can pray and the various priests here can lead times of worship… if that’s alright?”

knowledge: arcana: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24

Elliot's eyes go wide as he recognizes the incredibly powerful rod for what it was - capable of destroying pretty much *any* magical item it touched. It supposedly took only *one* errant move to completely destroy Radiance - or Righteous Eclipse.

But more importantly, as he'd guessed earlier, the stone was liable to literally blow up in the face of - and kill - whoever used this thing on the wardstone.

"I'll do it. I'll carry and use the rod on the wardstone," he says, much more calmly than he felt. The crusade needed the others much more than it needed him. "That thing is very dangerous... probably best handled by someone throughly taught in arcane matters. Master Aravashnial will not be able to do it, so I'll use it in his place."

"How much do you know of the Gray Garrison?"

Knowledge (local) DC 15: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (7) + 11 = 18

"I was in contact with Chief Sull, but that was before we discovered what exactly the cultists' plans were. I intend to send another messenger to him to request what aid he can offer in these attacks.

"Speaking of which, your actions have gotten you other allies. I sent word to Horgus yesterday to see what he is willing to do, if anything. The messenger hasn't returned, but that's likely due to the weather. Furthermore, I cannot ask you to do anything I would not do myself - I would join you in your attacks on the Garrison."

Anevia's brow furrows. "I... I would like to go with you, as well, but I'm in no state to do so. Keep my wife as safe as you kept me, please."

Verene makes no reply at first, her eyes flicking around the room to the mostly young or elderly clerics, green soldiers, and elderly or disabled wizards as though finally accepting the fact that the five of them and Irabeth may indeed be the most capable fighting team the Defender's Heart can currently field. We cannot be the last, best hope. Surely— surely there is someone— a week ago the best use I could make of magic was reading in languages I don't speak for thirty minutes a day!

The realization that when she said 'we' it was not a general 'we,' but a personal commitment to attack a garrison full of demons and cultists on a suicide mission, does not trouble her in particular. But her estimation of their odds of success, never high, drops precipitously. Nevertheless, she says honestly, if belatedly, "Of course we will do no less for Lady Irabeth than for you, Anevia. But I expect we will be the ones relying on her, more than the other way around."

"More importantly, and in answer to your question, Verene... we do have a means to destroy the wardstone. I found it in a ruined wizard's shop." Quednys says, pulling a long, thin rod from within his robes and placing it on the table. "It is a rod of cancellation. It should drain the magic of the stone... but without seeing it, I don't know how the wardstone's damaged state will affect things. It may cause some sort of backlash.

"However, it will drain what little magic remains in the wardstone, severing it from the network and breaking Vorlesh's plans to warp it and use it against the crusade."

"Something," Irabeth adds, "that I don't think is possible in the short term, for the Kenabres stone has suffered numerous attacks over the past several years that made this final destruction possible. Almost as if the demons have been planning for this day from the start." Her last sentence is incredibly dry.

Verene's eyebrows rise and she reaches for the rod with instinctive curiosity before checking herself. "That is a fortunate find," she says, with characteristic understatement. If she understands what this is, it is both the perfect tool for their needs and worth far more than its weight in platinum. And Quednys found it, abandoned and un-looted despite its easy portability, in a ruined shop? This, even more than surviving the fall or finding any magic sword, is the kind of coincidence that makes her wonder about fate.

"I was worried we would have no better plan than smashing the Wardstone, and I was not at all sure we could do so with mundane tools. I have no direct experience with objects of greater magic, but I understand they are often extremely hard to damage."
Knowledge (arcana) DC 20: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13

"I'll do it. I'll carry and use the rod on the wardstone," he says, much more calmly than he felt. The crusade needed the others much more than it needed him. "That thing is very dangerous... probably best handled by someone thoroughly taught in arcane matters. Master Aravashnial will not be able to do it, so I'll use it in his place."

"We are already taking a grave risk by attempting this at all. Any additional risk of backlash associated with using the rod must be little enough by comparison; but if knowledge of magic could mitigate it... Elliot, you are carrying a magical sword that must not touch this at any cost. So let the risk be to me," Verene argues, looking at Elliot in alarm.

Verene thinks she should carry the rod of cancellation, but if Elliot insists on doing so himself, she will not argue further. My understanding of this item is that it generally doesn't matter who touches the rod to the object you want to drain, so if the opportunity presents itself, anyone who can touch the Wardstone with the rod should absolutely just do it. And perhaps we can keep it in a leather sheath or something until then so there is no chance of setting it off accidentally. But Verene is thinking here that she would rather take any extra risk to herself than put it on one of her companions, especially Elliot; while I am thinking that mechanically, if there is a Knowledge (Arcana), Spellcraft or Use Magic Device check involved but we don't know which one, on balance, between modifiers and Prescience, she is probably the best one to attempt it.

"Can the Crusade create a new wardstone if we succeed? If so, what resources and personnel would be required? If not, what are the consequences for the barrier, both short-term and long-term?"

"Merixia asks good questions. How bad will things be if we succeed?" They may have no choice, but it would be good to at least know the likely consequences if against all odds they should succeed. Because the Kenabres Wardstone was the first of the wardstones to be created and is the anchor for the entire network, Verene expects the barrier in and around Kenabres at least to be completely gone, and for the magical boundary along the entire border to be substantially weakened. If it should vanish entirely because of their actions... she shudders, feeling a sudden cold chill despite her heavy clothes and the number of people in the room. They may simply be pushing the crisis down the road, trading an instantaneous catastrophe for a more prolonged defeat. In some ways it is the perfect microcosm of the Crusade: a hundred years of staving off total disaster, but fighting an endless rearguard action and steadily losing ground.

Irabeth is right. Every step of this is deliberate and long in the planning, probably by Vorlesh herself, whom even her enemies called brilliant: we are in an absolute skewer. Sacrifice our greatest defense, or we lose the entire war at a stroke.

"We are already taking a grave risk by attempting this at all. Any additional risk of backlash associated with using the rod must be little enough by comparison; but if knowledge of magic could mitigate it... Elliot, you are carrying a magical sword that must not touch this at any cost. So let the risk be to me," Verene argues, looking at Elliot in alarm.

Elliot is silent for a few seconds. "Thanks, sis. But..." he slowly begins. "I... don't think that's a good idea. I imagine this wardstone will be heavily defended, and that we'd have to cut a path through to get to it. It's much safer for you to stay in the back and support us from there as you always do, I think. And with this sword, I'll be in the front anyway. I only need one free hand to draw and tap the stone with the rod. A simple feint could do it," The emberkin answers, more determined at the end.

"Do they both not realize how dangerous this act truly is?" he inwardly wonders, glancing between Verene and Thesius with some surprise. He looks to his Master for approval - only to realize that was a silly thing, as his master couldn't see him looking at him...

Elliot would never let Verene take that risk over him unless she magically forced him to, I think. But no one but him seemed to make the check on how the relic could explode, so I don't think she has a reason to? Also, both Elliot's own attack, arcana and UMD are pretty good. So if it requires a check of sorts he should be good.

”Elliot’s right,” Azira agrees somberly, “a feint is exactly what we need.”

”No guard, whether a demon or a cultist, will let a spellcaster with a rod charge to an artifact they’re protecting, but if Elliot advances with me and Merixia and the commander he’ll be regarded as just another swordsman. By the time he peels off and draws the rod it will be too late for them to stop him.”

”It has to be him, and he has to be on our flank when we reach that point, so he has room to maneuver to the shard.”

Elliot is silent for a few seconds. "Thanks, sis. But..." he slowly begins. "I... don't think that's a good idea. I imagine this wardstone will be heavily defended, and that we'd have to cut a path through to get to it. It's much safer for you to stay in the back and support us from there as you always do, I think. And with this sword, I'll be in the front anyway. I only need one free hand to draw and tap the stone with the rod. A simple feint could do it," The emberkin answers, more determined at the end.

"Elliot’s right," Azira agrees somberly, "a feint is exactly what we need."

"No guard, whether a demon or a cultist, will let a spellcaster with a rod charge to an artifact they’re protecting, but if Elliot advances with me and Merixia and the commander he’ll be regarded as just another swordsman. By the time he peels off and draws the rod it will be too late for them to stop him."

"It has to be him, and he has to be on our flank when we reach that point, so he has room to maneuver to the shard."

Verene looks for a moment like she would like to argue, but then she sighs and gestures acquiescence. "Well, you make good points. All right, if you are sure."

Merixia frowns, listening to the others talk. Once there's a lull in the conversation, she speaks up. "Ordinarily I would say that I should use the rod. I'm the only one in heavy armor; if the wardstone explodes, I would have the best chance of survival." The tiefling sighs, tail twitching restlessly. "But Azira makes a good point. We might be facing Vorlesh herself, and she wouldn't have survived this long if she was stupid. She's not going to let an obvious spellcaster anywhere near the wardstone. And I will most likely need to cast healing spells where the enemy can see." It would be just as foolish to let a cleric near the wardstone as it would be to let Verene near it.

Thesius lets out a small cough. "I feel as if I'm invisible. Verene, did you cast such a spell upon me while I was not looking?"

Verene was a dear friend and he would do what he must to help prevent her from further harm.

Tugging softly at the collar of his chainshirt, he would step forward a bit, "Based on your criteria and arguments, I would argue I'm the more apt candidate."

"While I have healing capabilities, in no way do I stand out in comparison to our dear cleric of Ragathiel," he says with a smile and nod to Merixia.

With a gesture to Azira, he continues on, "Unlike our beloved paladin, I don't carry a relic that I need fear touching the rod."

And with a playful wink to Elliot, he states, "And I don't make apt use of magic to devastating effect through my weapon."

Finally he makes a point of resting his hands upon two of the weapons' hilts he currently carries while saying, "And I dare say my demeanor does lend credence to me being more apt to the martial studies."

Verene turns to Thesius with the ghost of a smile in her eyes. Despite their situation, he is sounding more like himself by the day, and it does her good to hear it. It also occurs to her that all three of them immediately tried to claim for themselves the most dangerous part of an already-probably-doomed mission, which is objectively a bit ridiculous. She says wryly, "Your points are inarguable, sir disembodied voice, but I am afraid you may find yourself outvoted. I certainly did."

Irabeth considers Thesius' question. "Prepare yourselves. We will be going into the heart of the demons' stronghold in Kenabres. As Azira says, you can also try to help the crusaders ready themselves to face what will come."

"I'll show you a place for worship we've been using. The people will be pleased to see an aasimar paladin leading prayer." One of the priests (an Iomedaean) says to Azira, a small smile on his face.

Aravashnial nods at Elliot's volunteering. "I have confidence in you, Elliot. Would that I could join you, but as I am now I would be naught but a hinderance."

To Merixia and Verene's question, Quednys looks tired. "It's possible that the Crusade cannot replace the wardstone. It may take more than we have at this time, or we may just not have enough. Nevertheless, destroying it is preferable to letting it warp the wards to harm the armies of the crusade." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Believe me, if I thought there was any other option, I would wholeheartedly support it.

"We cannot know how bad it will be." Aravashnial continues. "In general, there is no backlash whatsoever when destroying an arcane item with such a rod. However, the wardstone is badly damaged and connected, no matter how tenuously, to the rest of them across the border of the Worldwound. This is not the sort of thing that there are any records of."

Irabeth clears her throat. "If none of you are willing to agree on who will take the rod, I will decide for you - since everyone seems to want to do so. I believe it should go to the one who is least likely to fall, at least during the journey over to the Garrison. Once we are within, it should likely go to Thesius, for the reasons he says."

She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Unless anyone has any other questions, let us adjourn and prepare. I have to speak with the soldiers about the plan and make other preparations."

When all their questions are answered, the heroes go about their preparations, praying, raising morale, making purchases, and whatever else suits their natures. The storm rages on through most of the day, clearing up in the early evening. Irabeth firmly rejects any suggestion to attack, even now. "Tomorrow," she says.

Fireday, 22nd of Arodus 4713

The following morning is foggy, and Irabeth holds off on launching any raid on the Gray Garrison for most of the morning. The messenger from Horgus, the messenger says that he'll deliver a fair amount of supplies for the Defender's Heart - firewood and charcoal, food, coffee, other luxuries, as well as medical equipment and a handful of potions. This prompts a ragged cheer from the crusaders. Irabeth quickly assigns a small squad to go and escort the supplies back while the others perform their attacks.

Better news comes shortly thereafter - Elyda arrives with a handful of inquisitors in tow, as well as news that a pair of Sarkorian leaders - a god-caller and a druid - are fighting back the demons in Truestone Park, in the southern Ring District. Irabeth quickly offers she and her group healing and what food the Heart can afford. When Elyda hears of the mission, she offers to help lead some of the distractions - pointing out that she's discovered some of the places where cultists are hiding.

In the late morning, six more people arrive - the messenger who Irabeth sent to Neathholm, with five of the Children in tow. They introduce themselves as Lorn, Hedge, Barok, Varel, and Jan, and explain that they have been sent to aid the crusaders in retaking the city. They volunteer to join the attack on the Gray Garrison when Irabeth explains what is happening.
Each PC will get a Child ally (whose stats I'll share in the Discussion tab) to control during combat - within reason.

As noon swiftly approaches, the crusaders and mercenaries begin filtering out, ready and willing to attack and begin the distractions for the heroes to make their way to Old Kenabres and the Gray Garrison.

Remainder of Oathday, 21 Arodus 4713
Before the meeting ends, Verene remembers to ask Aravashnial about how to find the Riftwarden cache he mentioned and also to thank him for offering it, not wanting his generous gesture to be lost in the shuffle.

She spends the remainder of the day learning and testing out new spells, making purchases, appreciating the musical part of the performance Azira organizes, and trying to interest Thesius, Elliot and Merixia in a round or two of cards in the evening.

Unless they are swept up in the performance, she tries to interest not just Thesius, but Elliot and Merixia in a round of cards, for low or no stakes, until it is full dark. She excuses herself soon after, noting, "I have a few more spells to write, but Thesius, I am going to cast the weather protection spell on myself and Thamyris right before sleeping. It lasts a full day, and I would be happy to cast it on you as well. With the storm dying down, we may be venturing out to the Gray Garrison as soon as tomorrow." Verene casts endure elements on herself, Thamyris, and hopefully Thesius right before bed. The spell has a 24-hour duration.

Fireday, 22 Arodus 4713
The dreams are so many and so fragmented that remembering them would be like trying to focus on individual grains of sand sliding through an hourglass. Verene wakes with a sore head, and resolves to stop straining her eyes and mind with too much spell-work, if she should happen to survive through the end of the day. She drinks plenty of water, lets her eyes rest, and waits on preparing spells until the fog begins to clear around midmorning, good news starts to trickle in, and it becomes evident that Irabeth will call the strike on the Garrison today — so she should not prepare the weather-protection spells again. While she waits, she checks her pack over for the fifth time, eats a little despite a leaden stomach, bathes and cleans her teeth carefully, and dresses in the lightweight clothing she bought on the first day here. It does not take long. She feels no chill, yet does not overheat standing by the roaring fire either, which is odd.

Once she has memorized spells for an hour, it is late morning, and she emerges from her concentration to find she has a shadow in the form of a large and mostly furry forgotten child, with asymmetric eyes and horns, whose left arm and left torso are covered in black chitin like a crab's shell. But both arms look as powerful as the bow he carries. Verene introduces herself and Thamyris politely to Varel, who seems the laconic sort.
1d5 ⇒ 4

Before they are to leave, she sees Anevia go by and pulls her aside. "Anevia, I have a favor to ask." Verene clears her throat, somewhat embarrassed. "Do you still have those potions we found in the cache at your and Irabeth's home? If so, could we take them with us? We will return them if unused, of course. I just feel that we might need every advantage we can get today."

21st of Arodus

Ah, it's nice to have someone in charge to stop arguments like this. Merixia nods to Irabeth and stands up. "All right then. I'm off to improve my armor and maybe see if someone will trade an enchanted light shield for an enchanted buckler." Thank the gods the wind was so loud this morning. Merixia figured they probably wouldn't be going anywhere, so she prepared masterwork transformation. Hopefully the spell will modify the armor to suit her, as the caster. If not, she'll have to pay someone. The base of her tail is chafing something fierce against the armor plates.

Fortunately the Abadarans have the spell components necessary and are glad to take her credit for them. And they're willing to trade her shield for a buckler! Excellent. Scooping her newly masterworked armor into a spare cloak, the cleric sets out to find the priestess of Torag she met earlier.

"Good morning! Would you or any of your colleagues happen to know how to enchant armor? If so, how long will it take?"

If the masterwork transformation didn't reshape the armor for a female tiefling with a tail, Merixia will ask the dwarves to refit it as well.

Once her armor is sorted out, she looks through the divine scrolls available to see if anything catches her eye. Merixia spends the rest of the day meditating, watching Azira's performance, and playing cards with Verene. Why didn't she think to bring a deck of cards or set of dice?

22nd of Arodus

The day dawns cold and foggy, a vast improvement over yesterday's hurricane. Merixia prepares a full complement of battle spells after her morning wash and prayers. It doesn't seem quite cold enough to justify using a slot for endure elements. She bundles up in her winter clothing and goes to find some breakfast. It's plain porridge, but it's hot, filling, and she didn't have to make it.

Next she seeks out the person with her armor. Hopefully they've had enough time to finish their work, because Merixia is not going into a fight unarmored.

Anevia blinks at Verene's question, but nods quickly. "Yeah, sure. I don't think I'll need them here, and they'll almost certainly help you out there." She limps away as quickly as she can, and soon enough, returns with the potions in hand. "Take care of Irabeth... and yourselves."

Merixia's search for her armor comes up with an easy discovery - the magic craftswoman (an elf by the name of Ariae) has finished up the enchantments and wards on her armor. She mentions that it's not fully up to her standards, but with the materials available, it's the best she can do.

It is still a set of +1 banded mail, however. She's just a perfectionist

Merixia beams at the elf, gathering up her armor. It finally has room for her tail! "Thank you so much, Ariae! It looks amazing. I'm impressed that you were able to fit and enchant a whole set of heavy armor in so little time, especially given the circumstances." She happily carries it away and goes looking for one of her friends. While she can put it on herself if necessary, it's much easier to don heavy armor with an assistant.

"Elliot! Good morning." Merixia smiles at the aasimar. "Would you be willing to help me with my armor?"

Elliot continues the 21st day sitting inside the tavern, feeling restless, unsure of how to spend the time. He wanted to do something , anything, that could help - if only to pass the time. With the storm outside, though, that wasn't an option. With how crowded it was with everyone hiding from it, not even training was an option.

Thus, he's more than willing to help Verene with her inscriptions, the copying of spells, and the hide-and-seek 'game' with Tharymis. Given that, as a familiar, he was reasonably smart, Elliot approaches Thesius to explain the situation. "So... um... mind if I hide in your room? I don't see where else I could go and not look weird what with everyone already occupying each and every corner, and I can't use my own or he could just guess. We need to know if Tharymis really mastered the spell. Look, I know it sounds weird but I promise I won't do anything strange in there. Really!"

When the familiar finally finds him, he congratulates his siter and spends some more time talking about her life as they shopped and tried to make preparations - thanking her profusely for lending him the last bit of money he needed to have his armor greatly enhanced.

When they reach a mixed group of Eagle Watch guards and Azira, he stops, listening to her half-sermon, half-motivational speech as she tried her best to allay everyone's fears and doubts in these darkest of times. They were fortunate, he decided, that she was so good at this. Beautiful, skilled, seemingly unshakable in her faith. She seemed so far beyond base concepts like fear and doubt. It made him feel ashamed that even set on this course, the thought that he might well be dead tomorrow bothered him.

He slips away eventually, not wanting to bother her, and joins his sister, Merixia and Thesius for a few games of cards afterwards. Truth be told, he enjoyed them - when was the last time he'd had a bit of real , harmless fun anywhere? He decides not to play to his best - he was in it for the fun, not the win. Some of the tricks and strategies of these magecraft decks came back to him, and he wondered where he'd picked up on them. Was it at the Library? It was amusing, imagining Master Aravashnial and a few similarly 'old' and wizened wizards and librarians going at it a few rounds to thow the youngling's who was boss.

Sometime later, after dinner, and with the Shelynite musicians packing up, he swallows away some lingering nerves and goes for the conversation he'd been putting off ever since this assignment had become official. "Say, Merixia..." he begins, approaching her dressed in his combat outfit. "I... really respect your abilities as a warrior, and how you saved us back in the caves with your healing, time and time again. And, I was wondering..."

He seems to have some difficulty holding eye contact. "Um, we're going to have to fight lots and lots of cultists tomorrow, I think. if we go tomorrow, that is. What would you do, if one of them begged for mercy, or I knocked some of them out instead of killing them?" He continues, now more sure, but troubled. "I know about Ragathiel's teachings. At least, the surface, not the way you do. But... from my goddess, I also know that I am supposed to grant *at least* one second chance, should something like that occur. Those teachings can align, the way they did earlier with the Low Templar, if they choose not to take that chance. But we had a lot of time to talk through it then, and we might not have tomorrow. So... before we go in with swords slashing and spells slinging, I'd like to ask - what would you hold against me, if anything?"

The next day...

Near the start of the preparations, Elliot joins Verene in talking to Aravashnial first. The hidden Riftwarden stash had stood out to him too - where was it, and was it feasibly obtainable on the way to the Garrison?

"Take care of Irabeth... and yourselves."

"If by any action of mine I can protect her, I will." Verene meets her eyes seriously. "Take care of yourself too, Anevia. Thank you."

Before they leave, she remembers that it seemed cold iron was not easily accessible to the Neathholmers, and so she quickly returns to the outfitters and purchases a large bundle of cold iron arrows on their new friends' behalf, to add to their ordinary ammunition. On impulse she also adds one more backup disabling scroll. 40 cold iron arrows, -4 gp; scroll of color spray, -25 gp.

As she waits for Irabeth to give the order to move out, Verene takes the polished wooden openwork pomander out of the small, tightly closed box that holds it most of the time, and puts it on around her neck. The smell of the sweet spiced resins and incense inside rises around her like the ghost of her mother, just home from conducting some long-ago prayer.

I'll try to remember, but in case I forget: the strongly scented pomander grants a +2 resistance bonus on effects that nauseate or sicken for everyone within ten feet of it, but makes it harder to detect other scents (-4 to scent-based Perception checks.)

***21st***
After speaking with every person in the Defender's Heart, helping them find ways to be useful if they desired and doing what she could to give them hope, Azira joins with the musicians in common room. She sings a little, but mostly she dances. Somehow the rhythm and the rehearsed movements become a sort of kinetic meditation, pushing back the pain of her loss and the worry for her friends' fate. As long as she keeps moving only the next note, the next movement matters. So she dances until there's nobody left to dance with, until the last of the musicians is spent and ready to turn in for the night. Only then does she realize how truly spent she is as well. As the last stragglers finish their drinks and head to bed, she creeps quietly into Merixia's room and snuggles up to the priestess, doing her best not to wake the other woman, even as she pulls one strong arm around her waist like a heavy, narrow blanket.

***22nd***
In the morning, Azira rises without mentioning anything at all about having crept into Merixia's bed. She hangs her holy symbol from Radiance's hilt and kneels down before it in prayer while the priestess performs her daily rituals, and then helps her get into her newly fitted armor. "This looks amazing, Meri," she says with a warm smile, "it fits you so much better, and it doesn't ride on your tail anymore- that must be so much more comfortable."

At breakfast she makes sure to sit with Barok, the Child assigned to accompany her. Having missed the journey to Neathholm she has many questions for him as she learns about the events that lead to the establishing of their settlement. Once she's caught up, and they've both eaten their fill, she follows Verene's example in buying a quiver of cold-iron arrows for him, and then pulls her cold-iron longsword from her pack. "This sword served me well while I was fighting in the streets in the days after the city fell," she tells him, "but I haven't used it since I was entrusted with Radiance. I would be honored if you would carry it into battle at my side today."

-4 gold for 40 CI arrows... but I think I forgot to add the 2nd/3rd payout we got- I know I spent the first one but then we got like 1,000 more, plus another 200, I think? I'm sorry, does anyone remember the actual numbers?

21st of Arodus

"Say, Merixia..." he begins, approaching her dressed in his combat outfit. "I... really respect your abilities as a warrior, and how you saved us back in the caves with your healing, time and time again. And, I was wondering..."

He seems to have some difficulty holding eye contact. "Um, we're going to have to fight lots and lots of cultists tomorrow, I think. if we go tomorrow, that is. What would you do, if one of them begged for mercy, or I knocked some of them out instead of killing them?" He continues, now more sure, but troubled. "I know about Ragathiel's teachings. At least, the surface, not the way you do. But... from my goddess, I also know that I am supposed to grant *at least* one second chance, should something like that occur. Those teachings can align, the way they did earlier with the Low Templar, if they choose not to take that chance. But we had a lot of time to talk through it then, and we might not have tomorrow. So... before we go in with swords slashing and spells slinging, I'd like to ask - what would you hold against me, if anything?"

Merixia lets out a long breath, then gestures toward a couple of chairs. "Let's have a seat for this." Once they've sat down, she continues. "I wondered when this would come up. Yes, on the surface the teachings of Ragathiel and Sarenrae are opposed. But the gods know that there are very few absolutes on the Material Plane, and expect us to use our best judgment given our circumstances and resources. That's why I agreed to spare the cultists from the Tower of Estrod despite their allegiance to the Abyss. Knight Tirabade wanted intelligence on the enemy, Defender's Heart had room for prisoners, and we had the time to march them back here."

Sulfur-yellow eyes meet Elliot's. "As concerns tomorrow's raid, though... we will be on a time limit once the demons know we're there. We can't afford to stick around long enough for enemy reinforcements to arrive. You'll have to ask Knight Tirabade whether there's room for more prisoners here, but that one guard mentioned they were running out of space. So taking more prisoners probably won't be the smartest idea. Is it really worth risking the success of the mission, and the lives of everyone in Kenabres, for a few cultists?" Merixia shrugs. "To me it isn't. You'll have to answer that question for yourself. But from what I know of the Dawnflower, she is both fierce when battling evil and forgiving toward her followers who must make hard decisions with no easy answer. Whatever you decide, I would never hold your religious beliefs against you."

Note to self, try to take the cultists down as fast as possible tomorrow. If they die in combat, Elliot won't have to weigh the lives of enemies against the mission. After all, that's part of her job as a priestess of Ragathiel. She kills evildoers so other people don't have to.

Day of the Raid.

Barok nods his thanks to Azira, his expression grave. "You honor me, servant of the Inheritor. I am grateful that you would so honor me." As her companions had mentioned, there's something a tad archaic about his Taldane.

Aravashnial smiles tiredly at Elliot. "The tools should be stashed away in New Kintargo. The plaza adjacent to the wall to the Ring District." Elliot recognizes that as the area where Verene had lived before Armasse - that they had just visited two days prior. "There should be a latch hidden under the western side of the fountain. Touching it will open the compartment."

Once the party and their newfound companions are ready to go, Irabeth gathers them at a table, setting out a map of Kenabres - altered with the crevasses and wounds on the ground that they (and others) have found. She points to the Gray Garrison. "The Garrison is next to where St. Clydwell's once stood. I believe that it would be best to head south, through the Gate District, until we reach the ruined part of the wall. From there, we head west, into New Kenabres, until we either hit the end of the gash or need to take a detour. If the wall into the Ring District is still standing, we'll need to circle north to pass through the tower - assuming it's still standing. Any questions? Suggestions?"

The Children remain scrupulously silent, simply watching the plan being laid out.

21st of Arodus

"Is it really worth risking the success of the mission, and the lives of everyone in Kenabres, for a few cultists?" Merixia shrugs. "To me it isn't. You'll have to answer that question for yourself. But from what I know of the Dawnflower, she is both fierce when battling evil and forgiving toward her followers who must make hard decisions with no easy answer. Whatever you decide, I would never hold your religious beliefs against you."

"Nor I you, of course," Elliot says, after nodding along thoughtfully. He glances upward, perhaps wanting to consult the heavens but having to settle for the roof, and sighs softly. "The thing is... I keep wondering. What leads to someone becoming a cultist? What turns someone evil? Is it fair to judge everyone, with different circumstances, the same way? Is there really no way back for them? Should we kill them all just to take the easy path and not have to bother thinking about it? After all, surely they're all irredeembale scum and Golarion would be better off without them? And there's so much on the line, too."

He stares ahead, his golden-yellow eyes seemingly not quite looking at but rather through her. "Tell me, do you consider me a valuable ally? The way I am now. Because..." he hesitates and looks around to those nearby. "I think it was *this* close, or I would have been a cultist myself." He swallows, his mouth dry at the admission.

"You're a Tiefling. I imagine you know what it's like growing up faced with prejudice. When I was nine or ten, people would throw rocks at me in the streets. I'm the offspring of a fallen angel somewhere, so surely I had to be bad for the city, right? A demon spy or such. And that I wasn't in control of my magic at the time and burned down a stall? That was just proof. And if the inquisition didn't want to do it, there'd just have to be an unfortunate accident somewhere. Hit him often enough over claims of seeing him steal an apple and he doesn't get back up. That kind of thing."

He shakes his head, the trail of smoke from the hair moving with the motion. "The point is, by the end of it, I'd been... warped. I expected the worst from everyone. If anyone outside my family even touched me, I would lash out at them. And I started feeling that If I just focused a *little* harder, I could probably burn them to the bone. There were just no kindness anywhere, and if at that point someone had come to me claiming to also hate these people and wanting to hurt them back... well, it wouldn't have taken much. But then, when I'd more or less given up..."

He glances at Azira on the other side of the room, then Aravashnial. "...And what of those who feel they have no choice? Join them or they kill their families or such? ...I'm sorry, I won't take up much more of your time. I suppose I just wanted to explain why I can't just cut everyone down, even if it might seem rediculous, to someone who might have gone through similar things. That you're here at all speaks volumes of your willpower, I think." He gives a small smile and makes to leave.

21st of Arodus

"Nor I you, of course," Elliot says, after nodding along thoughtfully. He glances upward, perhaps wanting to consult the heavens but having to settle for the roof, and sighs softly. "The thing is... I keep wondering. What leads to someone becoming a cultist? What turns someone evil? Is it fair to judge everyone, with different circumstances, the same way? Is there really no way back for them? Should we kill them all just to take the easy path and not have to bother thinking about it? After all, surely they're all irredeembale scum and Golarion would be better off without them? And there's so much on the line, too."

He stares ahead, his golden-yellow eyes seemingly not quite looking at but rather through her. "Tell me, do you consider me a valuable ally? The way I am now. Because..." he hesitates and looks around to those nearby. "I think it was *this* close, or I would have been a cultist myself." He swallows, his mouth dry at the admission.

"You're a Tiefling. I imagine you know what it's like growing up faced with prejudice. When I was nine or ten, people would throw rocks at me in the streets. I'm the offspring of a fallen angel somewhere, so surely I had to be bad for the city, right? A demon spy or such. And that I wasn't in control of my magic at the time and burned down a stall? That was just proof. And if the inquisition didn't want to do it, there'd just have to be an unfortunate accident somewhere. Hit him often enough over claims of seeing him steal an apple and he doesn't get back up. That kind of thing."

He shakes his head, the trail of smoke from the hair moving with the motion. "The point is, by the end of it, I'd been... warped. I expected the worst from everyone. If anyone outside my family even touched me, I would lash out at them. And I started feeling that If I just focused a *little* harder, I could probably burn them to the bone. There were just no kindness anywhere, and if at that point someone had come to me claiming to also hate these people and wanting to hurt them back... well, it wouldn't have taken much. But then, when I'd more or less given up..."

He glances at Azira on the other side of the room, then Aravashnial. "...And what of those who feel they have no choice? Join them or they kill their families or such? ...I'm sorry, I won't take up much more of your time. I suppose I just wanted to explain why I can't just cut everyone down, even if it might seem ridiculous, to someone who might have gone through similar things. That you're here at all speaks volumes of your willpower, I think." He gives a small smile and makes to leave...

Merixia shakes her head, motioning for Elliot to sit down. "You are definitely a valuable ally, and I have plenty of time for this." She leans back in her chair a little, a distant expression on her face. "Since we're talking about our childhoods, I'm sure you can imagine what life as a slave in Cheliax is like. Once my parents and I were freed and landed in Almas, and I discovered that nobody was going to beat me for acting out, that's exactly what I did. I was a little hellion. A hurt, angry kid lashing out at anyone and everyone. I had the same anger issues I do now with no idea how to control them."

She smiles wryly. "My parents were at their wits' end. While my father is also a tiefling, it affects him differently. If nothing had changed, I probably would have ended up in a street gang. Maybe a cult if I had found one, but they're not as prevalent in Almas as they are here. Then I stumbled upon the shrine to Ragathiel and Father Darian." The smile turns much more genuine. "He's a half-orc, so he knows what it's like to be hated for how you were born. And his orcish blood gives him anger issues of his own. He offered to teach me both how to fight and lessons in self-control, when and why I should fight. The local clergy vouched for him, so my parents agreed. And here I am."

The cleric sighs softly. "Can some cultists be redeemed? Probably. I'm all for saving souls when possible. But sometimes it isn't possible, no matter how much we want it to be. Some people just want to watch the world burn. And sometimes I have to take the expedient path in order to save lives. How many people will a given cultist hurt or kill if I let them go? I'm pretty good at reading people, but I'm not arrogant enough to believe that nobody can fool me." Merixia stands up, laying a hand on Elliot's shoulder. "Like I said. You need to think on this and come to your own conclusion. Whatever you decide, I won't think any less of you."

***22nd***

In the morning, Azira rises without mentioning anything at all about having crept into Merixia's bed. She hangs her holy symbol from Radiance's hilt and kneels down before it in prayer while the priestess performs her daily rituals, and then helps her get into her newly fitted armor. "This looks amazing, Meri," she says with a warm smile, "it fits you so much better, and it doesn't ride on your tail anymore- that must be so much more comfortable."

"So much more comfortable, you have no idea. Thanks for the help." Merixia does a few stretches, testing her range of movement. Definitely better than before. "By the way... please don't get into my bed without asking. I nearly punched you before I realized who was there. Bad experiences, one might say." It might be a good idea to give a talk on battle fatigue once they have the time. Clearly, not everyone knows how to deal with it, and pretty much everyone in Kenabres is going to be suffering from the emotional aftermath of having demons invade their home.

Better news comes shortly thereafter - Elyda arrives with a handful of inquisitors in tow, as well as news that a pair of Sarkorian leaders - a god-caller and a druid - are fighting back the demons in Truestone Park, in the southern Ring District. Irabeth quickly offers she and her group healing and what food the Heart can afford. When Elyda hears of the mission, she offers to help lead some of the distractions - pointing out that she's discovered some of the places where cultists are hiding.

In the late morning, six more people arrive - the messenger who Irabeth sent to Neathholm, with five of the Children in tow. They introduce themselves as Lorn, Hedge, Barok, Varel, and Jan, and explain that they have been sent to aid the crusaders in retaking the city. They volunteer to join the attack on the Gray Garrison when Irabeth explains what is happening.

"Elyda! You made it!" Merixia greets their erstwhile companion happily, taking a few minutes to update the inquisitor on what they've been doing since parting ways.

Lorn introduces themself to her, giving her a quick rundown of their combat style. "You'll definitely need some cold iron arrows for this. Come with me, the Abadarans had a bunch of ammunition last I saw." Merixia buys them two quivers of arrows, brushing off their protests and offers to pay. While she spent most of her credit on her armor and some scrolls, she has plenty left for this. "And, um... what pronouns do you prefer?" She honestly can't tell whether Lorn is a man or a woman. Maybe neither? A couple of the regulars at the Almas shrine of Arshea were like that.

Once the party and their newfound companions are ready to go, Irabeth gathers them at a table, setting out a map of Kenabres - altered with the crevasses and wounds on the ground that they (and others) have found. She points to the Gray Garrison. "The Garrison is next to where St. Clydwell's once stood. I believe that it would be best to head south, through the Gate District, until we reach the ruined part of the wall. From there, we head west, into New Kenabres, until we either hit the end of the gash or need to take a detour. If the wall into the Ring District is still standing, we'll need to circle north to pass through the tower - assuming it's still standing. Any questions? Suggestions?"

"Sounds like a plan. Ah, what about the Riftwarden cache, though? Should we detour there first to see if there's anything useful?"

***earlier that morning***

"By the way... please don't get into my bed without asking. I nearly punched you before I realized who was there. Bad experiences, one might say."

Azira’s smile fades at the priestess’ words. At first she seems a bit hurt by the apparent rejection, but it quickly turns to a compassionate sorrow. “I’m sorry, Meri,” she says softly as she takes the tiefling’s hands into her own. “I won’t ever come in again unless you ask me to.” She gives Merixia’s hands a brief squeeze then gathers her stuff and hurries off to breakfast.

Aravashnial smiles tiredly at Elliot. "The tools should be stashed away in New Kintargo. The plaza adjacent to the wall to the Ring District." Elliot recognizes that as the area where Verene had lived before Armasse - that they had just visited two days prior. "There should be a latch hidden under the western side of the fountain. Touching it will open the compartment."

Once the party and their newfound companions are ready to go, Irabeth gathers them at a table, setting out a map of Kenabres - altered with the crevasses and wounds on the ground that they (and others) have found. She points to the Gray Garrison. "The Garrison is next to where St. Clydwell's once stood. I believe that it would be best to head south, through the Gate District, until we reach the ruined part of the wall. From there, we head west, into New Kenabres, until we either hit the end of the gash or need to take a detour. If the wall into the Ring District is still standing, we'll need to circle north to pass through the tower - assuming it's still standing. Any questions? Suggestions?"

The Children remain scrupulously silent, simply watching the plan being laid out.

"Sounds like a plan. Ah, what about the Riftwarden cache, though? Should we detour there first to see if there's anything useful?"

Verene passes around the potions from Anevia and observes, "It is somewhat on our way. We would need to go south from the major east-west gash we would be following through New Kenabres, down to the fountain plaza. Then, if we are already there, instead of retracing our steps back north right away, and going through the place where the ramps up to Ring District are flattened, it might be faster to go a little southwest from the fountain, then follow this north-south line of destruction north through the broken wall up to the Ring District, and up again through another broken wall into Old Kenabres." Assuming we basically can see what is on the geographic map, going slightly southwest from the fountain plaza, then basically straight north, seems like a route that avoids all the black crevasse areas.

Irabeth nods. "That's a good idea. It shouldn't take us too far out of our way..." She frowns over the map. "Did you see that the wall into Old Kenabres was broken? I didn't realize that from the reports. In that case, yes, it should be easiest to do as you say."

She looks around. "Alright. Unless there're further questions, I'll give everyone ten minutes to finish up before we move out."

If you want to continue RPing for the 21st, please put them in spoilers for organizational purposes. It's hard to tell at a glance what an NPC may need to respond to.

Their preparations in order let me know about the communal endure elements distribution the party, much larger than it has ever been before (at eleven), moves out.

The journey through the Gate District is unchallenged, though the heroes do hear the sounds of combat and battlecries from time to time. Their Children allies scout ahead, though they remain very cautious, refusing to go too far ahead. In particular, Jan seems in awe at the sights of the city, even ruined as they are now.

The gash is exactly as it was two days prior, and the heroes descend and continue their journey. It takes very little time for them to finally wind their ways through the ruined streets into the plaza near to the Ring District. Irabeth looks grim as she gazes over the damage the city has suffered, but remains silent for now.

Opening the cache reveals quite a haul. As Aravashnial had said, there are eleven potions 8 of cure serious wounds, 3 of lesser restoration, two wands (which he didn't know the nature of), a quiver of ten arrows +1 evil outsider bane arrows, a set of chimes, and two cold iron weapons - a dagger and a short sword.

Irabeth looks over the haul, a faint smile lingering around her lips. "These will come in handy, I'm sure."

"Did you see that the wall into Old Kenabres was broken? I didn't realize that from the reports."

"On the way to Nyserian Manor, in order to circle around a very deep crevasse blocking the most direct route, we were obliged to pass through this shallower scar." Verene indicates the north-south line. [b]"As we did so, looking northward along its path perhaps a quarter-mile, it did seem to me that the scar had broken through both sets of walls. How passable that means they will now be, given the higher elevations of the older districts, I couldn't say. We did not investigate the area itself."

At the plaza:
Verene concentrates on the two wands and the chime, grateful to have something to take her attention away from the silent line of corpses at the base of the wall. If dire rats or worse have been chewing on them over the last two days, she does not want to know about it. Her usual calm and precise message-whisper sounds in everyone's ears once she is certain of her findings. "Master Aravashnial was generous indeed. The first wand holds a magic missile that will produce two more missiles than Vagorg's wand with each use, and is about three-fifths full. The second contains about half its full charges of daylight, a more powerful light spell to counter magical or mundane darkness. And the chimes, when rung, will attempt to magically open any mundane or magical locks, chains, bolts and so on affecting an object. They have more limited uses than the wands before they become inert, however. Unless someone objects, I will carry the magic missile wand; for the rest, I defer to anyone else who has a use for them." She takes out the previous wand from the wrist sheath, and painstakingly cranks the clockwork for a few seconds to hold the new one in place.

Wand of magic missile, CL 5 for 3 missiles, 31 charges remaining; wand of daylight, CL 5, 24/50 charges; chimes of opening.
(Are these at the full 10 charges, GM? Interestingly, as written they just make a check against the lock DC, at a bonus that is about the same as or slightly worse than Thesius's Disable Device modifier depending on if he has Guidance or his luck ability or both up. Except you can only use the item ten times, ever. Perhaps it's intended as a last resort for parties or characters who have no Disable Device capabilities.)

Elliot could take the previous magic missile wand if he wants a backup ranged option. Thesius, Merixia, Elliot, Verene and presumably Irabeth can all activate the daylight wand, but perhaps it should be on Thesius or Verene, as they are the ones likely to care if it gets dark all of a sudden. I would say the chimes go on Thesius in case he discovers something magically locked, although as I said, in most cases it will be better for him to just use his Disable Device. Verene thinks all the melee types, including Irabeth, would benefit more from the cure serious wounds potions, though she wouldn't say no to holding onto a lesser restoration. The First Children NPCs should take the arrows, probably, or else Thesius? He barely uses his bow, though.

Azira seems much more herself once the mission is underway. With clear objectives to focus on, and plenty of the work she’s trained for at hand, she’s largely free from the loss and worry that had been weighing on her.

The paladin is all business as she takes up position at the front of the team and, Radiance in hand, leads the way through the city. She stands watch while Verene takes stock of the Riftwarden treasures, and waits for the opportunity to resume moving.

Spreading the arrows out among the Children is probably the best bet. Thesius shouldn’t use his bow in the Garrison if he’s going to try to pass himself off as a melee combatant.

Earlier that day.

Elliot approaches Hedge, hearing the child had been assigned to him. "It's great to see you and your friends here to help us, especially with the mission ahead being so difficult. No one can doubt your courage. Um... before we continue, please forgive me for asking, but are you a man or a woman? For us outsiders, it is sometimes difficult to tell."

Once he receives an answer, the Aasimar holds out a bundle to hedge. "I bought these arrows for you to use, should you need them. Forty coldiron arrows and twenty normal ones. The black ones are for demons and fiends, but you probably know that. And... I would like you to carry this sword with you, if you would. It's a scimitar capable of cutting into demons the same as these arrows."

After he passes along the equipment to his follower, he looks at Hedge straight in the eyes. "Could you perhaps do something for me? These last few days, I've seen a lot of death. Too many good people on our side. I know you're probably eager to prove yourself, as you otherwise wouldn't be here. But would you mind staying behind me and providing cover fire from the rear? I'd rather not have anyone else die if I could help it. And... I imagine that should we win - no. WHEN we win, you will be important links between your people and the survivors here. Please, if you could, try and survive."

Now...

Elliot follows the group along to the cache swiftly. He takes Verene's old wand with a nod of thanks and pockets it, then hesitates for a moment but also takes one of offered the serious healing potions. He watches the Bane arrows being districuted amongst the children, two each. "Make sure you only use them when we encounter something truly dreadful we'd otherwise have no chance at beating."

Then he gazes in the direction of the garrison and redraws his scimitar. "Okay. We've come this far. So let's do it! For the crusaders!"

"Ooh, very nice! We definitely owe the Riftwardens one." Merixia takes one of the healing potions for herself, just in case she's too badly injured to cast a spell or use her wand. "Hey Lorn, you want this cold iron short sword? Hopefully we'll be able to handle the melee combat, but it's always good to have a backup weapon."

As for the rest, she already has a couple scrolls of lesser restoration, locks are Thesius' department, and tieflings can see in the dark. "Thesius, can you use the wand of daylight? You and Verene will have the most trouble with magical darkness out of all of us."

Thesius takes the wand and looks over it and offers it back while saying, "I'm not fully sure, but my hands will already be fairly occupied with everything else I have on hand. This may be best kept with you or Verene at this time. Honestly it may be more beneficial for us to make use of the scale to take on the form of a humanoid with darkvision though."

It's on his spell list, but it's level is higher then what he can cast currently. It might be best with Merixia or Verene.

He accepts the bell and stashes it safely away from the rod he was carrying, he kept reminding himself that it was key to not allow any of his magical items near it.

I don't think Thesius using his bow would be a problem with keeping up the deception. My understanding was the main point is for him not to look like a magic user, which means he'll probably cast Heroism out of sight as they get to the garrison since it has a 40 minute duration. I do agree that the arrows should be dispersed among the children though. His bow will be more of a last resort if they need to attack something flying or that he does not have the ability to reach. This also means that they may want to have him refrain from using wands for the time being as well.

Verene: It does, in fact, have all ten charges available. I suspect that yes, it is for those parties that do not have access to Disable Device - there're a few locks that absolutely need to be opened in the AP.

Lorn takes the shortsword with a frown on her twisted features. "I have not used a shortsword in quite some time. Metal is rare beneath the city, as you no doubt are aware. But I do know how, and it is preferable to a club."

She and the other Children take up the arrows gingerly, as though afraid to break them - it's clear that they haven't much experience with magical items, and are more concerned about breaking them than they otherwise might be.

Irabeth looks at the others. "Alright. Let's keep moving. I don't want to stay out in the open more than we have to. The longer we take getting there, the more likely we'll be seen and have to fight. I'd rather not risk injury before we get to the Garrison."

WIth that, the party moves southwards through the streets - these are familiar enough in their ruined state that the heroes have no trouble guiding their fellows without losing time on dead ends. The corpse piles are fewer and smaller now - some have clearly been removed.

Arriving at the southernmost gash, the party turns northwest, passing through the ruined wall. However the demons caused such destruction, there is very little rubble where the wall once stood, and it is a relatively straight shot along the scarred earth through the Ring District. It takes them a short while longer to pass through the Ring District, and the sounds of battle are fewer and farther between.

Finally, they reach the outskirts of Old Kenabres, as the scar on the earth opens up into a deeper crevasse. "Looks like this is where we take again to the streets." Irabeth says, leading the group upwards.

Finally, they reach their destination. A large stretch of buckled ground and rubble stretches before the Gray Garrison, an aptly named structure that squats across from the open ground that once stood before the Cathedral of Saint Clydwell. That cathedral is no more - nothing remains but a towering mound of rubble and a deep, jagged rift in the ground.

There is no sign of Terendelev's corpse - not even scales. Only the rubble of the cathedral in the distance stands as a testament to her last battle with the Storm King. As they approach, Barok signals for a stop.

Standing in front of the Garrison are two horrifically bloated naked human men - one with a darker complexion and remnants of gray hair, while the other is pale and rotund. Oddly, neither looks frostbitten, despite their nudity and the freezing environment. Something is amiss here...

If you want to identify what has happened to them, I'd recommend a Knowledge (religion) or Knowledge (planes) check.

"Be careful. I know not what has happened to those two men, but they are clearly protecting our goal against invaders." Jan says, gesturing for his companions to spread out into the ruins of the buildings nearest to the Garrison.

Thesius takes his time to study the men from safety to see if he can glean who they are and what might have happened to them...

Knowledge (local) DC 10: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10
Knowledge (local) DC 15: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21

Knowledge (planes): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

...entering into one of the buildings, he shares his thoughts, "Something most definitely is wrong here...why would Lord Shappok be found naked guarding a door alongside Kandro Nyserian? Surely they are mortal enemies and I would think the fact Nyserrian is a templar of the Ivory Labyrinth would be clear in this situation. I would hate to believe our lord was a part of their ilk. Perhaps whatever they have done to him has stripped him of his free well?"

Local, untrained, max 10: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
religion: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
planes: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (5) + 12 = 17

So hideously bloated that Elliot not even recognized his former bane, he still stands at a distance warily. "Whatever it is, it can't be good. He shouldn't even be alive under these circumstances, dressed like that!"

He tried searching his memory for mention of such things, racing through both sides, knowing that time was short...

Is 17 planes enough to recognize this creature? I think I know OOC what it is, but not going to assume.

Verene follows Irabeth and Azira's lead through the broken scar northwest, trying to stay as alert and quiet as possible. She is relieved that what she thought from brief observation during their sortie two days ago proves true, and the scar allows them access to Old Kenabres with relatively little trouble. Once the group crosses the broken innermost wall, she pauses to cast the spell that will allow Thamyris to merge with her and re-emerge at will, just before they start up the slope to the streets proper. "Just like we practiced," she reminds him quietly. "If it looks like a battle is starting, you hide yourself away."

Thamyris gives a subdued bob of his head. Merge with familiar will last four hours; during that time Thamyris can merge his form with Verene's or separate again as a move action.

When they reach the former Cathedral of Saint Clydwell she pauses for a moment, surprised by the profound sense of loss that grips her at the sight of its destruction. It had been such a fixture of the city, and of the Crusade, her entire life: a reassuring bulwark of history and continuity, even though she had sometimes resented its presence, its occupants, and its influence; even though she had not set foot inside it in almost fifteen years. Now she never will again.

Verene wrenches her stricken gaze away and moves on in silence. They are very close now. The journey thus far has been notably, almost eerily quiet and unchallenged, and it is putting her on edge. She drops back long enough to cast the spell to sharpen her senses, then catches up again, nerves tingling with alertness for an ambush. Heightened awareness, 40 minutes.

On closer approach to the Gray Garrison, though, a different kind of creeping dread freezes her at a glance and keeps her huddled behind cover. Prelate Hulrun had not looked like that when she last saw him. Nor had Kandro Nyserian. What had happened to them? Seeing their bloated forms, nudity and indifference to the cold, a terrible suspicion begins to form... Can't fail the first Local check.
Knowledge (Local) DC 15, heightened awareness: 1d20 + 11 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 11 + 2 = 19
Knowledge (Religion), heightened awareness: 1d20 + 11 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 11 + 2 = 33 Knowledge (Planes) would be the same modifier if it's relevant. I'll wait to learn what specifics she should know before saying more than the below, which I think should be pretty safe given that check.

"He shouldn't even be alive under these circumstances, dressed like that!"

"That's because he isn't." Verene's whisper to the group is soft, but her horror comes through clearly. "That isn't Prelate Hulrun. It's something else animating his body. Wearing him."

Azira stands frozen in place, staring out across the plaza, wondering where in wreckage her mother’s corpse was.

perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

I wish I could at least give her a proper burial… be sure they aren’t desecrating her remains… we can’t take time to search right now though, not while people are giving their lives to draw away some of the demons’ forces… if the mission ends the way everyone seems to expect, the survivors who come here to rebuild can lay our bodies out together… and if we survive I can look for her afterwards…

When Thesius moves to a nearby structure, she snaps out of her reverie and follows. She seems unaware of why they’re moving there but wipes a tear from her check and asks, “is there anything aside from killing them that could be done quickly to get past them? Every minute that passes more of our brother and sisters in arms, more of our friends, are giving their lives to keep some of the enemy forces away. We can’t afford to take any more time than necessary. And, if they’re already dead and being worn like disguises by demons, attacking hard and fast before they can alert anyone inside must be our best option?”

"Gods... I didn't like Hulrun, but nobody deserves that. Do you think they're undead? They're definitely not alive, that's for sure." Merixia can't quite remember whether necromancer demons are a thing. "I don't see a way around them, so we're going to have to go through them." She draws her bastard sword and looks around at the rest of the raiding party.

"...Many years ago, I would have given anything to be able to strike him down. But now... it feels empty. There's barely even anything of the real him left." The emberkin shifts into a ready stance with Righteous Eclipse. "I do this out of mercy. Does any elemental magic work on him, or it?"

"And why does this place feel so familiar...?" he wonders, as he stares down the two seemingly unliving enemies.

"While I didn't expect him to have survived, to see this is..." Irabeth shakes her head.

"Not undead, but they have some similarities. Vermleks — demons that like to inhabit corpses in just this kind of grotesque puppetry. They are harmed by positive energy and healed by negative energy, which they can also inflict upon other creatures at a distance. That means your life-sapping spell will actually heal them, Elliot, so beware. They possess a limited ability to summon other demons, have the standard demon resistances and immunities, and also, unfortunately, sometimes resist spells generally." Verene scans the building, looking for any other way in. While she agrees that no one could deserve the horrific fate of being a demon's meat-puppet, reflecting on it any further, or on the predilections of the souls that become vermleks in the first place and what these two have been doing with the naked men's bodies in the week since the fall, might make her vomit. It will certainly not be useful for her companions to know. She falls back on practical concerns, as usual, pushing everything else away. "We are not especially stealthy as a group and I'm not sure there is another way in anyway. Azira may be right that a fast, overwhelming attack is our best option here. I will try to blind them from a distance with a burst of light at the first opportunity, once we are agreed to attack."

How far from them are we right now?

I'll say within 300 ft, Azira. I have a map up, but I don't think you're that close.

Azira grips Radiance and takes a step towards the door, ready to charge, then stops. "At this range we'll never close the distance before they can sound the alarm... and Verene's right, we're not exactly experts at stealth..."

She looks at the commander and then at Merixia and the others. "We do know their password though... if Meri tucks her holy symbol into her armor, commander Tirabade and I can hold our hands behind our backs, like we're bound, and we could try walking right up to the door as if the rest of you were delivering the two of us to the Garrison as prisoners. I don't know how long the lie would hold up, but once we're in striking distance we could hit them hard and fast and they might not have time to alert whoever's inside?"

"We do know their password though... if Meri tucks her holy symbol into her armor, commander Tirabade and I can hold our hands behind our backs, like we're bound, and we could try walking right up to the door as if the rest of you were delivering the two of us to the Garrison as prisoners. I don't know how long the lie would hold up, but once we're in striking distance we could hit them hard and fast and they might not have time to alert whoever's inside?"

Verene is frowning in thought. "In addition to standard demon resistances, I believe at least Burkle's Compendia maintains that they share the short-range telepathy common among demonkind. As soon as they can see us, we should assume the entire Garrison is alerted to our presence. It may be unavoidable unless we can somehow draw them over a hundred feet away — which seems unlikely if they have been set to guarding that door.

"While we discuss, I could ask Thamyris to fly around the building and look for any other way in: door, window, rooftop entrance." Unless someone objects, she does just that, emphasizing that he should try to remain unobserved and to come back to her if he senses any danger. This should probably be a secret check. Thamyris's Stealth modifier is now +18.