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Elliot does not detect any signs of magical auras (other than the ones he and his companions radiate) in the prison room.
"Demons, unlike us, have no hope of a life after death: when we kill them they are destroyed... confronted with its own obliteration, the fiend may have been unable to think clearly or strategically... or, he may have lured us into into some manner of trap..."
"He probably did simply panic. But as I understand it, half-fiends are mortal and have souls, the same as you or I. After death they are bound for judgement and dispensation to one of the Outer Planes. We can be fairly certain of the destination of this particular soul, unfortunately."
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The champions, their search revealing only that this makeshift prison is surprisingly barren, leave by the way of the other door. Stunted trees and tangled grass choke this open-air courtyard. A half-broken statue of some Iomedaean saint or another looks to the sky with what once would have been outstretched arms.
As they approach the ruined building, however, something changes - with a sharp crack of air being displaced a creature appears in the courtyard, and her eyes immediately fall on them.
The means by which they feed are not via their mouths, but rather their gaze - a nabasu's glare can consume the very life-force of those misfortunate enough to meet its eyes, though it can only use the ability sporadically. People slain by this gaze are pulled forth from the grave as ghouls under its control, as it grows stronger by virtue of the feeding.
Nabasu can conjure deep darkness at will, as well as teleport and move objects with their minds alone. Less often, they are able to weaken their foes' bodies, sapping strength from their muscles, silence an area around them, or drain the life of another with a touch. Further, they can seal a group's movement, heal their own wounds up to and including lost limbs, and summon one of their own kind or a number of babaus.
Nabasu have all the common resistances of demons, but are also immune to any spells that would instantly slay them and paralysis.
"You... so you are the invaders." The demon's voice is broadcast into each of the heroes' minds. "Well enough. You look tasty."
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Verene spins on her heel at the sharp crack that rends the freezing air of the courtyard, an even colder tingle of warning lifting the scales on the back of her neck.
"Nabasu," she warns the others, and reminds them, perhaps unnecessarily: "Try not to look it in the eyes." She suits action to words, focusing her gaze on the nabasu's clawed feet.
The world is beginning to speed up again ever so slightly, which means her perceptions are returning to normal; there isn't much time left on the haste effect. But her white-scaled arm is already reaching for her spell component pouch. The warriors will have an easier time of dispatching it if she can slow this demon's movements and reactions as she did the babau and the brimorak. She chants a long complicated phrase, slowly crushing the wax-sealed drop of molasses in two fingers as she bears down on the demon's slippery, resistant mind with her will.
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Verene, recalling tales of the nabasu's gaze, swiftly averts her eyes as she hurls an empowered spell to slow the demon, breaking easily through the nabasu's resistance to magic. However, her will pushes the empowered spell aside, albeit only just.
With a roar, the nabasu unleashes her own magic, hurling a wave of invisible energy to hold each of the heroes in place. Unfortunately for her, none of the champions feel more than a touch of desire to hold still.
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Thesius gives a prayer to Desna as he moves. His morningstar being moved to his off-hand before he swiftly retrieves the cold iron heavy mace and lashes out at the creature. His gaze trying to stay away from that of the beast as he moves into position to hopefully benefit his allies.
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"You realize Areelu Vorlashs' own magic couldn't harm us, but you tried anyway. Brave, I'll give you that," Elliot dryly says when the nabasu's spell does exactly nothing to anyone.
Not wasting further words, he teleports to the Nabase and begins cutting.
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An actual nabasu, not just half of one? Merixia grins like the madwoman she not-so-secretly is. "Ha, now this is a real fight!" She might even forgive Azira and Elliot for taking Nulkineth down before she could get there. And because this is a real fight, another spell is in order. Here goes nothing. Should she extend it to Azira, Thesius, or Elliot? ...Maybe if she had thought to warn them first, but she didn't, and if somebody cast this one on Merixia without warning she would be pissed. Besides, it's not like either of them need much help in order to slice their enemies into ribbons. Stepping forward a few feet, the cleric begins her incantation, a spell to give her the strength of Ragathiel's divine fury.
Verene moves on to another strategy. She chants a short phrase, then opens her jaws in a silent scream that causes the air to ripple between her and the demon.
Wulfric winces slightly at the appearance of a full-feldged demon far greater than any he'd seen before. "I...in..." he stutters as he feels some vile energy wash over him and then roll out with no apparently lasting effect. The young bard clears his throat and begins again, launching into the next stanza of the tale he'd been telling a few moments ago about one of Yaniel's great victories.
"In the quiet lull that followed, it seemed that the demon had already been dispatched, but before the soldiers could even send up a cheer, the vile beast flapped its leathery wings and drove itself upward to its feet. The sword-knight, unfazed, raised her glowing blade and charged..."
Azira smiles at Wulfric's tale and raises Radiance at its first partner had, than darts--in her graceful, dance-like manner--to the fiend with astonishing speed. When she arrives, Radiance arcs through the air, slashing at the fiend with lightning speed.
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Elliot draws on the power invested in him by the wardstone and leaps to the attack, becoming as a dervish, Righteous Eclipse ablaze with the light of Sarenrae.
Thesius averts his gaze before rushing at the nabasu, swinging vigorously with his heavy mace. Unfortunately, his averted gaze is just enough to prevent him from landing the strike on the demon.
Merixia pulls upon the divine rage of her angelic patron - instantly, the pulse of fury burns in her mind, obscuring thought and driving her to attack, to wipe the Abyssal stain from the world.
Wulfric summons up another inspirational tale, empowering his allies, and Azira rushes at the nabasu, burning with divine power. Radiance flares with power as she unleashes a flurry of strikes, tearing the demon to bloody shreds.
The shrine falls silent, its nightmares vanquished - for now.
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Seeing the creature fall, Thesius turns his attention back to the room he was approaching earlier. He will move to the opening and look for threats before and as he moves through the room.
Verene shrugs off the unwholesome feeling of the demon's magic trying to ensnare her mind and readies herself to cast the next spell to try to snare it in retaliation, only to blink as Elliot and Azira cut it to ribbons in mere moments. The more fool it for overconfidently landing on the ground rather than casting spells down at them from above, she supposes. "Well, that is one nightmare that will never consume enough souls to make it back to the Abyss. Well done."
The slowness of the outside world fades entirely as her hastening spell ends, and the magical shield also flickers into nothing at the corner of her vision. She uses the shielding wand once more before following Thesius to the ruined stable building Thamyris had described for them after his scouting flight and peers inside.
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Seing his paramour approach them in all of her glorious rage only to find the enemy already dead - again - Elliot finds himself staring, then awkwardly scratching the back of his head as he realises he and Azira just robbed her of a treat. Again. "Oh, uh, hey Meri! Yeah, sorry - maybe we went a bit too hard on this one too..." He absently picks up one of the more intact pieces of the Nabasu and holds it up to Merixia. "But we, uh, saved this bit just for you! Didn't we, Azira?"
Yeah, probably not the best save but it was the thought that counted!
...Right?
"Okay, so all we need to do is check the stable, then the bodies for anything of note the demons and undead might have dropped, and do a final sweep of the area until returning to the others," Elliot says, then joins in finishing their errand here. As said, he checks the bodies of the fallen while being wary of any diseases on the undead, then takes the time to thoroughly check each room in the chapel with Detect Magic, angling the cone so he also got a reading from beneath the floor and behind walls, just in case.
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Seing his paramour approach them in all of her glorious rage only to find the enemy already dead - again - Elliot finds himself staring, then awkwardly scratching the back of his head as he realises he and Azira just robbed her of a treat. Again. "Oh, uh, hey Meri! Yeah, sorry - maybe we went a bit too hard on this one too..." He absently picks up one of the more intact pieces of the Nabasu and holds it up to Merixia. "But we, uh, saved this bit just for you! Didn't we, Azira?"
Yeah, probably not the best save but it was the thought that counted!
...Right?
"What- You-" Merixia looks ready to kill something. The party can practically hear her teeth grinding as she gives Elliot a glare that by all rights should have incinerated him on the spot. "Oh, f#+~ this!" She stomps back into the previously cleared room, slamming the door behind her with enough force to crack the thick, heavy wood. A wordless scream of mingled fury and frustration rings out. Then you hear a gauntleted fist pounding repeatedly on the closed door along with some extremely detailed and inventive curses in Abyssal. (Nobody swears quite like demons do. Nobody.)
Once the noise dies down, Merixia emerges. It's obvious that she's still pissed off, but has it more or less under control. "Okay. Sweep the area, clean, consecrate, bury the bodies." She points at Azira. "You. If you're going to bring a flagbearer into battle, by all that's holy it is your job to protect him. Leaving him behind in a room with five godsdamned ghouls, two of which were spellcasters, is unacceptable. Do I make myself clear, Sword-Knight Tal-Shirin?"
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At Merixia's outburst and door-slamming, Verene jumps and turns back to the courtyard to stare. She listens to the muffled stream of Abyssal profanity from behind the door with reluctant admiration. What even is a ratswiving s$&#gibbon?
"Okay. Sweep the area, clean, consecrate, bury the bodies." She points at Azira. "You. If you're going to bring a flagbearer into battle, by all that's holy it is your job to protect him. Leaving him behind in a room with five godsdamned ghouls, two of which were spellcasters, is unacceptable. Do I make myself clear, Sword-Knight Tal-Shirin?"
Verene looks between the two warriors, surprised and somewhat alarmed. She had not thought anything was particularly amiss between them. Oh. The spell. Lacking a legitimate target for her magically enhanced anger, Merixia's frustration needed to find some outlet beyond the door or the wall. Perhaps she should remind everyone of that and try to smooth things over before more harsh words are exchanged.
"If we are assigning blame, I asked Azira to follow the half-nabasu and sped her steps to do it," Verene says peaceably. "As I did everyone. She was merely the first to get there and end him. It is a good thing to keep Wulfric's positioning in mind for the future. But in this case, with you, Thesius, and Elliot still in the room, he was not ever in real danger. So is it your sober tactical mind speaking, or your god's heightened rage? If the latter, I would ask that you keep it pointed at your enemies, not your friends. And I would remind us all that magic can be a more potent mind-affecting substance than any drink or drug. Let's all take a breath before we say something we regret."
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Thesius advances into what must be the stable: The sharp tang of musty, decaying straw fills the air there and it is cast in a silvery glow. The glow comes from one of the weapons in a large mound that lies amid the rubble.
There are a handful of weapons in the mound that yet seem serviceable - a well crafted battleaxe, three cold iron daggers, a finely crafted longsword, and a well-made longpear with a cold iron head. The bare blade of the sword glows silver, illuminating the whole stable.
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"The stable appears to be clear of enemies, but there are some worthwhile finds. I think we are ready to attend to a final sweep of the area before continuing on with the consecration and other tasks we have before us." Perhaps that will help focus his companions. They still had a trip back ahead of them after they finished what they had to do here.
Thesius will work to move through the establishment once more. Taking his time to look for anything of interest such as hidden rooms/items and useful resources. He'll keep detect magic up as he does so.
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“Thank you, Verene,” Azira answers warmly, “but Meri’s rage is sacred for her, and I would not deny her it. Just as valiantly facing battle—even when the odds might seem overwhelming—is sacred to Iomedaeans, and I won’t deny Wulfric that either.” Turning to the bard she smiles, places her left hand on his shoulder, and adds, “you were very brave to stay where your abilities would help most of us despite the danger. Well done, but remember, you’re not here for the battle you’re here for the war; if a situation gets too dangerous the best tactic is to move to safety and survive for the next fight.”
Azira scans for signs of any more evil while Thesius examines the found items. When he mentions a final sweep she points out, “we haven’t found any hidden supplies yet, so we should remember to search for those while we’re at it.”
"The first place we should look for the healing supplies is the altar in the chapel proper, where such caches were usually hidden."
Verene releases Thamyris into his own form, and the two follow the group in methodically searching each room for any items or anything of use, including on the bodies of the gargoyles, ghouls (those that were not incinerated), ghoul priests, Nulkineth, and the nabasu. She gives special scrutiny to the chapel's filth-smeared altar. When they come to the ghouls' larder, she dismisses the alter self effect to take her own larger and stronger human form again and help to cut the humanoid bodies down. She examines the corpses more carefully now that they have a moment to do so, hoping to learn what she can about them and where the ghouls might have found them.
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Verene, with the aid of the others, swiftly discovers the stash of healing potions - easily dozens of them sit in a lead-lined box in a hollow beneath the altar. This is enough to help the whole army stay on its feet and well-healed, at least for the battles at Drezen.
The bodies are difficult to identify - they were clearly crusaders, in life, but whatever holy symbols or other iconography they might have held has been taken from them, and their clothing is minimal at best. It might be best to lay them to rest in the ground outside - assuming that it's sanctified somehow.
Nulkineth's quarters also hold something of great interest - a strongbox. Within is a massive amount of valuables - a pile of various coins , a few gemstones - a beryl and three opals - a gold holy symbol of Sarenrae, somehow left unmarred, a rolled up banner, a masterfully crafted chain shirt, and a dagger.
Thesius identifies the banner and dagger as magical - the dagger will return to the hand of whomever throws it and the banner allows someone to empower themselves with the courage of great heroes
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Thesius methodically makes his way through the buildings and the yard outside with Verene, doing his best to make sure they don't miss anything and assisting with moving the bodies outside into the stables until they are ready to be buried.
Quickly they identify anything magical, but he hands off the gems with a shake of his head. "I'm unsure what these are worth."
Finally, he turns his attention to cleaning the buildings in preparation for the consecration by Merixia and Azira before assisting with creating the graves or pyres with which they will send the fallen on their way. A prayer to Desna to guide them upon his lips.
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Verene chuffs softly in satisfaction when discovering the healing cache beneath the altar, untouched even after decades, and exclaims over the magical battle pennon and dagger Thesius finds and identifies. "Those are valuable finds, to say the least. But you say the pennon has to be attached to a polearm or staff of some kind to work? None of us use such a thing, or are likely to in the future. I wonder if the magic could be transferred to something else." She looks over the gems before shrugging. "They are pretty, but I also don't know what they would fetch from a merchant. Elliot? Perhaps we can also ask Anevia, Aron, or Master Aravashnial.
"Merixia and Azira will no doubt want to perform some kind of rite in and around the chapel before we leave. But try not to spend too long. They are waiting on us below, and the army could still make some distance yet before dark." Verene turns her own attention to building a pyre for the dead enemies out of whatever burnable rubble is the courtyard or the stable, and assembling it far enough from the structures that it will not damage any of them before lighting it off. Following this, she helps with burying the unidentified crusader bodies.
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Knowing she has little to offer when it comes to searching, Azira follows Wulfric around adding what mundane cleaning she can to his magical efforts . When the conservation turns to the newly discovered pinion, she shrugs and asks, “could we attach it to Wulfric’s banner, or does it have to be a weapon?”
Azira takes up position next to Meri, just far enough away that she doesn’t think the priestess will feel crowded. “Obviously you’ll have to do the magic part…” she says softly while her friend prepares for the consecration ritual, “but if there’s any parts where prayers need to be said, you can just look at me and I’ll offer them up to the Lady of Valor. Oh, and I have some holy water left if that would help? Or I can still lay hands on things, or people, but, I mean, if—like—the altar needs some extra purifying or something, just let me know and I can channel some positive energy into it, if, you know, that would be helpful, or whatever…”
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Elliot winces at the rage outburst of Merixia and consequent rebuttal, if gentle, from his sister. He waits until the group seems to split up to search the gounds more thoroughly, then dispels the remanents of his shapeshifting magic as well as his mirror images. Yes, that was a dumb move both ways in case they got jumped on a second time by another major demon, but one was running out anyway, and if he was going to talk to Meri then he'd prefer to do it as his real self. Plus, having constant images of himself blurring through the other would probably make it that much more unpleasant to talk to him, which he figured wouldn't help her mood.
"Hey, Meri, can I talk to you for a bit?" He asks, slightly cautious as he approaches her alone. "I... Look, I can understand how you feel. And I'm sorry. I just... want you to know that I'm not trying to keep you out of the fight, steal your glory or deny your service to Ragathiel or such."
"But that doesn't excuse me. I'm... still not really used to this Wardstone power. How it manifests for me; it can be incredibly destructive. Much more than I thought myself capable and I'm not even sure what my real limits are. If I'm honest, it's just too tempting to channel and I'm definitely not pacing myself well on its use."
He looks away and his hair flares blue. "And... I can't deny that I feel protective of you. Even knowing how good of a fighter you are and how rediculous that should be, there's this... instinctive urge to put myself out there quickly so they'll attack me instead of you. That just... worked out a bit too well here."
"So... I was hoping you could find it in yourself to forgive me or at least not blame Azira? Unlike me, I don't think she's done anything wrong here and consecrating this shrine is obviously really important to her. Please? You're the only one who can help her do that. I'll find some way to make it up to you later - I promise." He continues, meeting her eyes and seeming nothing but earnest and genuine.
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“Thank you, Verene,” Azira answers warmly, “but Meri’s rage is sacred for her, and I would not deny her it. Just as valiantly facing battle—even when the odds might seem overwhelming—is sacred to Iomedaeans, and I won’t deny Wulfric that either.” Turning to the bard she smiles, places her left hand on his shoulder, and adds, “you were very brave to stay where your abilities would help most of us despite the danger. Well done, but remember, you’re not here for the battle you’re here for the war; if a situation gets too dangerous the best tactic is to move to safety and survive for the next fight.”
Fortunately, the rage spell is as short-lived as it is intense. Merixia spent enough time screaming in the other room that the last vestiges fade as Azira speaks, leaving her tired and more than a little embarrassed. "Thank you for your understanding, Azira, but while battle fury is a sacred thing, losing control outside of combat is... frowned upon." To say the least. She ran so many laps around the block and hauled so many buckets of water for the elderly and infirm as a moody teenager. Father Darian was a kind man and a skilled teacher, but he did not tolerate sass or yelling. Merixia looks down, tail hiding itself behind her leg. "I apologize for my outburst. Next time I'll be more prepared for the effects of the rage spell."
Elliot winces at the rage outburst of Merixia and consequent rebuttal, if gentle, from his sister. He waits until the group seems to split up to search the gounds more thoroughly, then dispels the remnants of his shapeshifting magic as well as his mirror images. Yes, that was a dumb move both ways in case they got jumped on a second time by another major demon, but one was running out anyway, and if he was going to talk to Meri then he'd prefer to do it as his real self. Plus, having constant images of himself blurring through the other would probably make it that much more unpleasant to talk to him, which he figured wouldn't help her mood.
"Hey, Meri, can I talk to you for a bit?" He asks, slightly cautious as he approaches her alone. "I... Look, I can understand how you feel. And I'm sorry. I just... want you to know that I'm not trying to keep you out of the fight, steal your glory or deny your service to Ragathiel or such."
"But that doesn't excuse me. I'm... still not really used to this Wardstone power. How it manifests for me; it can be incredibly destructive. Much more than I thought myself capable and I'm not even sure what my real limits are. If I'm honest, it's just too tempting to channel and I'm definitely not pacing myself well on its use."
He looks away and his hair flares blue. "And... I can't deny that I feel protective of you. Even knowing how good of a fighter you are and how rediculous that should be, there's this... instinctive urge to put myself out there quickly so they'll attack me instead of you. That just... worked out a bit too well here."
"So... I was hoping you could find it in yourself to forgive me or at least not blame Azira? Unlike me, I don't think she's done anything wrong here and consecrating this shrine is obviously really important to her. Please? You're the only one who can help her do that. I'll find some way to make it up to you later - I promise." He continues, meeting her eyes and seeming nothing but earnest and genuine.
Merixia winces slightly as Elliot apologizes for... what, being too good in a fight? He shouldn't apologize for that, nobody should. "I'm not angry at you, Elliot. I'm angry at myself for being too damned slow to be useful here. And, well, that's the first time I've ever cast rage. I thought I was prepared for the effects." Her face goes from the pink of winter cold to the red of embarrassment. "I probably would have handled it fine if I'd had something to fight, but channeling Ragathiel's anger with nowhere to point it? Bad idea.
"None of this is your fault, and I don't want to hear you apologizing for your skill in combat again! You should be proud of that. Never make yourself less than you are for someone else's sake, especially mine. It's my job to figure out how to keep up, and clearly I need to work harder on that." She lets out a frustrated huff. "That said, Drezen is a big place that's chock-full of demons. I agree that pacing yourself would be a good idea in the future. I've always had to use my magic sparingly, because up until we could afford healing wands, it was more important to use my spells to heal people." To the point where it's hard to make herself go all out now.
"And yes, of course I'll help Azira consecrate the chapel. I'm not truly angry at her either. I was a little irritated, and then the spell made me furious at, well, everything. She just happened to be there. Fortunately she was understanding about the whole thing." She pauses for a moment. "So, are we good now?" Merixia takes the opportunity to enjoy the view of Elliot in his true form for a bit. It's always disappointing when he decides to turn into a frog-man, he's so much more handsome this way. But if he thinks he fights better in a different form, who is she to object?
Azira takes up position next to Meri, just far enough away that she doesn’t think the priestess will feel crowded. “Obviously you’ll have to do the magic part…” she says softly while her friend prepares for the consecration ritual, “but if there’s any parts where prayers need to be said, you can just look at me and I’ll offer them up to the Lady of Valor. Oh, and I have some holy water left if that would help? Or I can still lay hands on things, or people, but, I mean, if—like—the altar needs some extra purifying or something, just let me know and I can channel some positive energy into it, if, you know, that would be helpful, or whatever…”
Merixia bites her lip, thinking. "I've never tried casting consecrate for a deity other than Ragathiel before, but that could work. I don't think the holy water will be necessary. Go ahead and channel positive energy into the altar when we do this, though, it can't hurt to try and see if that helps. Maybe bring Radiance out too, its power originally came from Iomedae."
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“Thank you, Meri” Azira answers earnestly as she draws Radiance. She moves over to the altar and lays the glowing, golden blade upon it. Lifting up her hands, she prays, “Lady of Valor, turn your ear to hear Merixia Pentarian, servant of your ally, Ragathiel. Attend unto her prayers as if they were my own and empower them that she might cleanse this chapel and return it to your service. To your eternal glory.” Then she places her hands on the altar and prepares to channel energy into it when Meri cues her to do so.
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"I'm not angry at you, Elliot. I'm angry at myself for being too damned slow to be useful here. And, well, that's the first time I've ever cast rage. (...) Never make yourself less than you are for someone else's sake, especially mine. It's my job to figure out how to keep up, and clearly I need to work harder on that."
"Ah. I guess I misread this... well, completely, in that case. Master Aravashnial did often say I had a tendency to jump to conclusions..." The aasimar briefly seems to smile at a long-gone memory right then, his visual embarassment flaring just slightly. "Look, I... can't say I know what that's like, to be expected to handle divine Rage like that. Especially if your blood is already naturally inclined towards it. I'm not sure if I would fare better if I ever learned any advanced fire spells."
He shakes himself from the thought. "But I'm sure that just like in the past, you'll master this in time! I know Father Darian isn't here but if I can help you in some way with it, I will. And for the record, I don't think you have to worry about pushing yourself to 'keep up with us', whatever that entails. We each have our own strengths and you fight plenty well even aside from being our only healer. We all rely on you to have our backs when things do go south. You're great as you are."
"A-At least, that's what I think. Obviously." He somehow says it with a straight face, then chuckles as his rolls his left arm. "Though my shoulder, for one, seems to agree with me - it's still bruised from when you got me with the training sword the other day."
Merixia gets the sense that Elliot is trying his best to be supportive but that he also has some unspoken concerns on the rage topic.
"So, are we good now?"
He blinks. "Are we-? Hah, of course we are! I say we go and consecrate this shrine and make it back in time for lunch - and lunchbreak, perhaps?" He grins. "After you, my Lady."
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With Azira's help, Merixia is able to both dispel the desecration and consecrate the chapel to Iomedae once more. Once she does so, Radiance shines brightly, nearly blinding the heroes with its namesake glow. As the glow fades, Azira is certain that the weapon has been awakened to some of its previous power.
After all has been resolved - the ghouls, gargoyles, and Nulkineth's bodies burned, the demon destroyed, and the crusaders buried - the champions make their way back down the treacherous stairs, leaving the small shrine cleansed of its foul corruption - at least for the time being.
There they are greeted by the crusaders' camp, where they are swiftly escorted to the command tent. There they find Irabeth and Anevia, as well as Sosiel and Aravashnial.
"You look none the worse for wear." Irabeth says. "Welcome back. I take it it went well?"
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Verene smiles with quiet satisfaction. "See for yourself." She reaches into the haversack where she stored the cache, finding the lead-lined box right on top, and places it on the folding table with its map of their route and Drezen. The top unlatches with a quiet click and she throws it back to reveal the potions: dozens upon dozens of them in neat rows, more than enough for the entire army.
"Nurah told the truth, and her information was precise. The chapel had been desecrated by a half-nabasu servant of Kabriri, a pack of ghouls, some gargoyles, and a full nabasu." Verene folds her hands, the dirt freshly cleaned from her clothes and under her nails by her nail brush and the quick use of prestidigitation she had requested from Thesius. "They are dead and disposed of. Merixia and Azira between them were able to rededicate the chapel. There were two bodies, unidentifiable but presumably crusaders or civilians from Vilareth Ford or Valas' Gift, which we buried in reconsecrated ground." For the next six hours, anyway. But she does not wish to disparage Merixia and Azira's efforts.
"There was also a fair amount of treasure, including a magical knight's pennon, a cold iron longspear, and these gems which we could not value." She displays the beryl and opals, hoping that one of the command staff can price them. "How were things here? Can we make any more distance today?"
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Irabeth scans the collected potions. "These will keep our knights fighting fit for much longer." She says after a moment, smiling broadly. "My thanks to you all, my friends. This will prove invaluable in our mission to retake Drezen."
Anevia looks thoughtful. "It's good to hear Nurah's intelligence was reliable, and better to hear that you dealt with the demons and their forces. But still, I hope we can trust her in the future..." She doesn't sound at all certain.
Aravashnial, meanwhile, rubs his chin. "Kabriri? I wouldn't have expected to see one of his cultists here... but I suppose I cannot deny their existence." He folds his arms.
The Knight-Commander glances over the rest of their haul. "If none of you wish to use the weapons, we can stow them - not everyone is fortunate enough to keep their arms in perfect condition in the sorts of battles we've been fighting."
None of the command staff seem able to identify the values of the gems, but they are all insistent that the champions keep them for selling when they have the chance. "You took the risks, after all." Sosiel points out.
"Moving onwards..." Irabeth shakes her head. "I don't think we'll meaningfully advance before it gets too dark for our human members to see, and horses aren't fond of going by dark."
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It took a couple tries (and some materials Merixia had purloined from the alchemist's shop in Kenabres), but thankfully Ragathiel and Iomedae were willing to cooperate in consecrating the chapel. Merixia throws in a prayer of thanks that her companions were so understanding of her embarrassing outburst while she's at it. That could have gone so much worse. So much worse.
I really should do something nice for them to make up for it. But what? She's an indifferent cook at best, her voice is more suited for drunken tavern songs than actual music, and the less said about her dancing the better. She isn't a mage-crafter like Verene. And everyone has a weapon that suits them already, so she couldn't forge them something even if she had access to tools and materials.
Their arrival at the Knight-Commander's tent provides a welcome respite from Merixia's thoughts. "Ah, Irabeth? Are you familiar with enchanted banners like the one we found? I'd like to use it, but I don't think it would fit on my sword. Could I attach something to my backpack and fly the banner that way?" Irabeth is a knight, it's called a knight's pennon of battle. Maybe she'll know how it works.
Anevia looks thoughtful. "It's good to hear Nurah's intelligence was reliable, and better to hear that you dealt with the demons and their forces. But still, I hope we can trust her in the future..." She doesn't sound at all certain.
Aravashnial, meanwhile, rubs his chin. "Kabriri? I wouldn't have expected to see one of his cultists here... but I suppose I cannot deny their existence." He folds his arms.
"I was surprised too. But in this case, it was undeniably in Nurah's interest to show us that she still has valuable information to trade. And it cost her nothing, since the forces at play were so unequal that there was no chance of effecting an escape. That may not always be true, and I will certainly not believe her unquestioningly in the future just because she was candid with us once." She nods at Aravashnial. "I recall you told us that Kabriri has little interest in the Worldwound — that the invasion is mostly the province of Deskari and Baphomet. But a few individual demons more loyal to other lords have probably slipped through at the margins to wreak havoc and entertain themselves. I did not think to ask any questions of the half-fiend or the nabasu before Elliot and Azira killed them, and I doubt they would have answered usefully in any case between expressing their desire to kill and eat us. But that is my best guess."
In response to Irabeth's decision that they will stay and make camp here tonight, Verene inclines her head in acknowledgement and waits to be dismissed. She wants to check on the four prisoners, and she has a little strength left today to charge a wand, as well as scrolls that she would like to copy into her spellbook when she gets a moment after camp chores or on watch.
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Irabeth tilts her head at Merixia's question, then looks to the others.
"I think that knights usually use those on lances and such." Anevia says. "But we might be able to rig something up so that you can wear a small banner on your back, sure."
Sosiel nods slowly. "Aron might have some sense of how to do that. I'll speak with him later this evening, if you'd like, Merixia."
Aravashnial nods briefly to Verene. "So I thought, but evidence proves my beliefs false, alas. Nonetheless, I suspect your theories are correct."
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Azira slowly lifts Radiance from the altar with both hands, her renewed sense of reverence after the display of light plain for all to see. She kneels and positions the sword in front of her, as she did for her daily prayers each morning, and quietly offers up another prayer. After a few minutes pass, she rises and begins singing one of Iomedae's hymns as she dances around the chapel whirling the glowing, golden blade around her.
She spends as much of the journey back as possible dancing similarly with the sacred sword as she moves.
Azira listens carefully to all that is said. She contemplates adding a remark about the traitor and her intel, but decides against it. Once the conversation has run its course, she nods appreciatively to Irabeth and offers, "I am available if there's anything you need help with, Knight-Commander; otherwise I'll continue getting to know the soldiers."
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Truthfully, Elliot had doubts to what degree the crate of lesser healing potions would really make a large difference. Set against the innate healing and channel abilities already present among all the paladins and clerics present, along with the oppotunity cost of grabbing one, unscrewing the potion and then drinking it while you were engaged in melee with a demon about to rip you in half? Not to mention they were both the weakest variant of healing *and* there were over a hundred crusaders present to distribute them to. Thus it seemed, logically, that they *should* have very little added value in the coming siege.
...But he didn't voice such and just smiled and nodded at Irabeth at her declaration. Maybe they did have some value to be used in between the fighting or such. Or maybe the real benefit was psychological - the thought that you had another backup for if you got hurt and that your commanders also wholeheartedly believed in that backup. Morale was a tricky thing weighed against logic. How fortunate they were that irabeth and Azira were taking care of that in his stead. And thesius too, perhaps, with his stories and music.
"Okay. Thank you, commander. If that is all, I'll go and train and pray a bit, then see how Akravesh and Nurah are doing. I know I was a bit harsh on her, but after this, maybe my own judgment was clouded. At least the other Sarenrites might offer some guidance in my stead. I find it difficult, to determine the fine line and extent of mercy. I suspect I always will. Please don't hesitate to call on me if anyone needs me for anything."
Afterwards, he vists Aravashnial in his tent. "Master, do I come at a good time? I hope your studies and writing your new spellbook are going well. Truthfully, I wished to ask you something. You see..." "What is up with you and Verene?" "I've been trying to blend swordfighting and magic to the best of my ability since my memory loss, but not all of it is working out well. I was hoping we could go over some spells we used to work on before... well, all this. There's one of them in particular. I, ah..." He blushes. "Need that one because I'm trying to do something nice for Merixia. But it's a bit advanced and I'm not entirely sure it'd work the way I think it would."
Riding up to his sister, Elliot does his best to stay in the saddle as he always did. Sometimes, he'd get the idea his horse was very subtly trying to throw him off, as if he'd still not really recognized him as his rider. But when confronted, he'd act all innocent and just keep eating grass. Well, an issue for another time. "Hey, Verene? Are you still doing your item enchanting? If we're reaching drezen tomorrow - perhaps - is there a chance you could try and make another one of those pearls of power? Every spell we have might matter and it looks to be a long siege."
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Thesius is quiet on their way back. He allows his mind to wander through the events that had led them hear and how they might have been prevented. His life felt rather derailed, but yet that did not bother him. He realized life was full of unexpected events and the ability to adapt was necessary.
As they met with Irabeth and the rest, he chose to speak up. "I would not mind the longspear and the dagger, but will not stand in the way if someone else thinks they could put them to better use."
That even he will go about assisting the camp where he can, work to find time to speak with Nurah and thank her for her help, and write the days findings into his journal. He felt it worth finding time to check back in on the temple again if they get the chance.
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Irabeth nods briefly at Azira. "Keep an eye on Sword Knight Jhestander, if you would. I don't think he's in danger of backsliding at the moment, but it's best to be safe in such matters - especially in such a high risk situation as the one we face here."
Elliot's check in with his prospective converts is brief - it seems Akravash is exhausted from the day's journey, at least, and Nurah is quiet even in the face of the success her intelligence allowed the heroes.
Righteous Eclipse hums silently in Elliot's mind. "I will consent to this so long as he treats me with proper respect. Maybe he'll learn something that can help return your memories to you."
Thesius finds Nurah looking much less cheerful than she has been in the past - reasonable, given her situation. She's willing to talk with him, but her general outlook is grim, as she doesn't seem to believe that she's going to last terribly long.
Elliot finds Verene deep in scribing spells. She smiles at him absently. "Certainly I can make you a pearl. Just bring me the right materials from the supply wagons, and I will start on it tomorrow."
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The evening passes swiftly into night, and the army turns to its rest. The night watch is only broken by a few passing demonic vermin, which the guards easily deal with. The half moon glares balefully down at the camp, its light somehow tainted by the air of the Worldwound.
The next morning, there is a grimness to the Knights of Kenabres as the army sets out - they will reach Drezen this day, and face the greatest hosts of demons yet. Many may die, and more will get hurt, but their resolve is firm.
There are several hours of journey along the Ahri riverbed before the scouts come rushing back to report what many have already noticed - the gorge ahead is filled with a filthy green cloud of pale vapor. However, they say, it's not vapor, but a mass of some sort of Abyssal insects.
"Vescavors." Aron grimaces. "I've never seen so many at once."
Vescavor swarms are essentially immune to being harmed by normal weaponry, which leaves the army without easy recourse to defeating them - leading them into this cloud would be condemning them to death. However, with such a large swarm, there's likely to be a vescavor queen somewhere nearby.
Vescavor queens are significantly larger than their spawn, and typically lie at the heart of an underground complex, where they spend months repeatedly spawning ravenous swarms before exiting the caves to hunt and seek a new lair. When a vescavor queen is deep in her spawning, the surrounding area becomes inundated with the swarms - as is the case now. Killing the queen would send the swarms dissipating almost immediately.
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"That doesn't look good," Elliot says, peering at the horizon. "I feel like I should know something about them..." He falls silent and shakes his head, annoyed. "...But I don't. So all I can ask is: What are they, do they have a weakness, and if not, do our scouts have a way around for the army?" He asks, looking at the others.