"I might suggest that one of those that plan on being within close quarters with this potential threat put on the cloak we found earlier," Thesius offers as he thinks about the potential outcomes.
When their 'guests' appear across the earlier chasm seemingly effortlessly, all their excessive planning and magic aside, Elloit can't help but laugh. "Makes sense. For what it's worth, I want to hurry too... I hope my parents and sister are still alive. Though you know, Lann? If you know you can climb these regions like it's nothing, please, ah, save us the embarassment of meticulously planning it out and feel free to go first and throw us the rope?"
The rest of the way, Elliot holds onto his master's advice and he is near the front with his crossbow out - being the only thing he could really bring to a potential fight now.
"That's good to know Thesius, thanks," Elliot nods as the bard shares what he knows of the creature. "I don't know if it helps, but if this thing spreads spores by air, I'd suggest we all cover our mouths and noses with cloth. Could cut up a bit of my blanket for it if someone doesn't have anything to use."
Lann and the others look at Elyda. "Crel can take the rear - we are capable of seeing quite well in the dark, and I suspect our eyes can use what little light we have better than the humans. Dyra and I can scout ahead as well. Apologies, Elyda, but while I doubt not your diligence and prowess in battle, your ability to move in silence is no doubt hampered by this environment. Dyra and I are used to it, and can scout ahead capably."
"Just so you are aware, Elliot, Merixia and I as planar scion can see quite well in the dark. As this environ is known to you, I do not take offence if you wish to scout ahead. I will remain up front to aid/protect my companions." Elyda gave a respectful nod.
As Lann and Dyra called the party to a stop to warn them of the spore-cougher, it was good when Thesius stepped up to expound on the creature in question. "It is good you have heard of these creatures, Thesius. Do they have any vulnerabilities that could help us defeat them if our paths cross? As Lann has said it could be out hunting..."
She shared her own awareness of their surroundings...
"I have heard no sound coming from the cavern ahead - no shifting of movement nor slightest breath. I do not believe there is anything alive up there. Still, I do smell something faintly in the air - a wet scent that could be the fungus?" looking from Thesius to the Lann, Dyra and Crel.
"I don't know if it helps, but if this thing spreads spores by air, I'd suggest we all cover our mouths and noses with cloth. Could cut up a bit of my blanket for it if someone doesn't have anything to use."
"I think that is a sound plan, Elliot. I have a scarf I could lift up over my nose and mouth."
"A mobile fungus that emits mind-affecting spores? Let us hope it happens to be elsewhere. I have no extra cloth, but I can try to breathe through my sleeve if necessary." Verene then has a thought. "Plants often fear and avoid fire, don't they? I'll light my lantern, and prepare my two extra flasks of oil to set alight and throw, just in case we can't avoid combat with this creature."
She stops and rummages in her pack for her hooded lantern, flint and steel, and strikes up a small but steady flame inside the lantern. Then she takes a few more moments and some short lengths of kitchen twine to prepare her two flasks of oil to be used as makeshift explosives. It doesn't take long, and soon she's moving with the group again.
"Yes, that is most likely it." Crel nods at Thesius. "It sounds like enough, anyways."
Lann looks to Elyda. "You are correct - that is most likely the scent of the cavern."
"Don't expect me to go face a slavering fungal monster." Horgus says, though his lips quirk in a knowing smirk before dropping back into his usual frown. "And keep your fire under control. It'll burn out all the air if you're not careful." He says to Verene. Lann looks surprised, but nods in silent agreement.
The companions make their preparations and move towards the cavern. As they approach, the faintly moist scent on the air becomes increasingly obvious, and the tunnel gradually opens into a circular cavern, roughly forty feet in diameter. Thick sheets of fungus grow in the cave, and several tunnels branch off. All of these save one in the north wall lead downward; the northern one leads upward. What appear to be two dead bodies lie on the ground in the middle of the cave, next to a strange heap of ropy green fungus.
Lann looks bemused at the discovery. "Well... it seems safe enough for the nonce. That is the way to Neathholm." He indicates the northern, surface-heading passageway.
"The dead wear the heraldry of the Crusade - devoted to the blessed Lady of Valour. The fight with the fungus ended their lives, it would seem." Elyda sent a quiet prayer to Iomedae. There is no time to bury what remains of them. Perhaps Merixia, as cleric, will say a word over them - for they deserve a better resting place than this.
Elyda ignored the slur directed at Horgus, and she hoped the man had not heard what Lann had said. Instead, she cast her eyes toward the northern tunnel leading upward. "Please, lead us on to Neathholm," and took her place in the marching order, sword on the ready; still keenly surveying the cavern as she moved for any sign of threat.
Verene frowns, but doesn't directly contradict Horgus or Lann. "Something to keep in mind, I suppose." These caverns are enormous, and clearly air is able to circulate within them and from outside. Or else large groups of people would not have been able to survive here for decades. There should be no danger of a small swift fire using up the breathable air. Should. Unless Lann knows something we don't?
Verene peers at the corpses. "Yes, a common device of Iomedaean crusaders. I wonder how they came to be down here. We're in no condition to stop to give them a proper burial, though. Let's give them a wide berth - remember the zombies." Assuming the group keeps moving, Verene stays in the same marching order, trying to skirt the bodies and ropy green pile of fungus as widely as possible.
"Would you mind if I said a quick prayer over the bodies? We may not have time to stop and build cairns, but at least we can do that much." Merixia picks her way over to the crusaders' corpses, sword at the ready just in case.
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Once Merixia approaches the corpses, she notices some serious oddities - first off, they're wearing spiked gauntlets and they have glaives, rather than the longswords traditional to Iomedae's servants. It would be less odd if they were Shelynite, but they're quite clearly not displaying her symbol.
As all in Mendev are aware, Iomedaeans don't usually bury their dead with the equipment they used in life, considering it a waste of valuable resources. The crusaders would likely not mind if their equipment was used to help others get to the surface.
Ergo, Merixia examines each of them to discover that each wears a masterfully crafted chain shirt, and one has a familiar-looking gold potion. The other has a small pouch with a scroll in it. Together, they have a considerable haul of coinage, as well.
Finally, the second one holds something tightly in a clenched fist - a small symbol of a brass bull's head with red gemstone eyes.
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Something doesn’t look right here. The occasional Iomedaean might choose to wield a weapon other than the traditional longsword, but two of them with glaives? And what’s with the spiked gauntlets? Frowning, Merixia examines the bodies further… finding a holy symbol. Or rather, an unholy symbol.
”These weren’t crusaders. Not real ones, anyway.” Turning to face the group, the cleric holds up the medallion. ”This is the symbol of Baphomet, the demon lord of labyrinths, beasts, and minotaurs. Aravashnial, it’s a brass pendant in the shape of a bull’s head with red gems for eyes.” She clenches her fist. ”Kenabres was infiltrated at some point. Probably not long ago, the corpses don’t look that old.”
"In this case, I am less than gratified to have been proven correct. I've long since suspected that Kenabres has been infiltrated by demon cultists..." Aravashnial says, his voice dark. "We should bring the symbol - if not the bodies - to the surface and show it to what authorities remain there."
Anevia looks disgustedly at the bodies. "I simply cannot understand what would drive someone to demon worship, especially this close to the Worldwound." Her expression tightens. "We should hurry as much as we can to get to the surface. If there're cultists up there, we have to warn people. Assuming there are any left who are pretending to worship the gods of good." The last sentence is bitter, but there's a definite edge of fear in her voice.
"They are supposedly called the Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth, these cultists of Baphomet." Aravashnial adds. "Rumors say that they had infiltrated some of the mercenary groups, but to see crusaders of Iomedae infiltrated is entirely different. The rot has gone deeper than we thought."
Upon hearing the truth of what lays in front of them, Thesius feels less inclined to respect the dead. As the others talk, he brings forth a cantrip to reveal magic as he takes the time to search the area for anything of use. They were still unsure of how much longer they would be down here, so it made sense to take any resources they could use.
Of the martial equipment, there is nothing magical. However, Thesius does see that the potion (unsurprisingly) and the scroll are both magical.
Seeing little of use beyond what is on the forsaken crusaders, Thesius takes the time remove anything of use from them while stating, "We might as well take what will be of use to us. We are still unsure of what further threats and obstacles lie in front of us. If it is okay with the rest of you, I will take a chain shirt and spiked gauntlet."
As he removes the potion and scroll, he takes a moment to look over them.
"This potion is another Cure Light Wounds, I'm unsure of the scroll," he says while passing it off to Elyda for further inspection since she was the one that identified the spells in the earlier spellbook.
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"In this case, I am less than gratified to have been proven correct. I've long since suspected that Kenabres has been infiltrated by demon cultists..." Aravashnial says, his voice dark. "We should bring the symbol - if not the bodies - to the surface and show it to what authorities remain there."
Anevia looks disgustedly at the bodies. "I simply cannot understand what would drive someone to demon worship, especially this close to the Worldwound." Her expression tightens. "We should hurry as much as we can to get to the surface. If there're cultists up there, we have to warn people. Assuming there are any left who are pretending to worship the gods of good." The last sentence is bitter, but there's a definite edge of fear in her voice.
"They are supposedly called the Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth, these cultists of Baphomet." Aravashnial adds. "Rumors say that they had infiltrated some of the mercenary groups, but to see crusaders of Iomedae infiltrated is entirely different. The rot has gone deeper than we thought."
"Power, lack of empathy, and hubris. They want the power that a fiend offers, they don't care who they have to hurt to get it, and they're arrogant enough to believe that they can control it." Merixia speaks with the voice of experience. She might not have much experience with demon lord cultists, but she has plenty of experience with the church of Asmodeus.
Tucking the unholy symbol into her bandolier, the cleric begins stripping the bodies of their armor. "Hmm, these chain shirts look pretty nice. Better than most of what you see for sale. Go ahead and grab one, Thesius. I can carry your old armor if you want. Elyda, do you want one?" She turns to the forgotten ones. "Can any of you use a glaive? If so, you're welcome to them."
"Well... seeing this is an alarming revelation, that's for sure. Though I guess I'm not that surprised. My money's on the inquisition being infiltrated next. Halrun in particular - his zealoutry knows no bounds. I can sympathize with what the first Crusaders went through when they were forced to flee here," Elliot scoffs, seeing the bodies of the traitors.
He shakes his head softly and turns away to face a nearby dark tunnel with his crossbow. When nothing is seen or heard he takes a look at the scroll.
"Not sure what this scroll is either, Thesius. And I'll pass on the items - can't rightly wear or use any of it."
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"Rumors say that they had infiltrated some of the mercenary groups, but to see crusaders of Iomedae infiltrated is entirely different. The rot has gone deeper than we thought."
"They can't have been very effective infiltrators in life, if it took all of ten seconds of close study to notice something was wrong and work out their true allegiance," Verene comments.
She examines the scroll with her arcane sight for a few moments. "This contains a spell to cause fear in one creature and force it to flee you. Like Elliot, I cannot use anything else here."
Anevia looks disgustedly at the bodies. "I simply cannot understand what would drive someone to demon worship, especially this close to the Worldwound." Her expression tightens. "We should hurry as much as we can to get to the surface. If there're cultists up there, we have to warn people. Assuming there are any left who are pretending to worship the gods of good." The last sentence is bitter, but there's a definite edge of fear in her voice.
"Power, lack of empathy, and hubris. They want the power that a fiend offers, they don't care who they have to hurt to get it, and they're arrogant enough to believe that they can control it." Merixia speaks with the voice of experience. She might not have much experience with demon lord cultists, but she has plenty of experience with the church of Asmodeus.
"It may be so for some, particularly those in places where fiendish religious doctrines and their evil consequences are well-understood," Verene says thoughtfully. "For others, particularly ordinary folk seeing hard times who may not know much of the world... I'm not so sure. I have seen too many desperate prayers in desperate circumstances to the gods of good go unanswered, to profess no understanding at all of why anyone would ever take help from darker sources, if it were offered. When the pregnant woman seeking to avoid her tenth miscarriage receives only silence from Pharasma and her servants, but the traveling cultist of Lamashtu, whose name she has barely heard before, promises a ritual that will deliver a healthy babe..." she shrugs.
"Nothing can excuse hurting other innocent people, of course. Those who are taken in, or allow themselves to be taken in, by fiends, grow in culpability as their understanding of the consequences of their actions increases. And demons only offer boons when it ultimately serves their ends and increases suffering in the world - so the physically healthy child will grow up to be a twisted murderer, perhaps, or even kill its mother in labor. They delight in such ironies. But do not make the mistake of assuming that demon-cultists were all already inherently wicked to start with, and that is why they chose as they did. They were once just people, flawed people, as we all are. To think otherwise risks beginning to believe we are somehow infallible, and will always choose aright; and the disastrous consequences of that attitude have been clear to see in Kenabres for some time." Verene casts a troubled look at Elliot.
She shakes her head wearily. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to run on so. By all means, let's make what haste we can to the surface again." If only there might be something left we can do... but the Wardstone is gone. Whether it was arrogance, incompetence, betrayal or just bad luck, we all saw it happen. The city's mightiest defender gave her life for nothing, while fiends were still flooding into the streets. The truth is that Kenabres was likely overrun in a matter of hours. I only hope the rest of the Crusade will be able to stop this incursion before the entire country is lost. It does not matter if we arrive soon or late; we are very likely going to our deaths. And still, what else can we do? Lie down and die? Hide here in the dark? As ever, the only path toward maybe, one day, possibly doing something useful is the hardest one. All I hear is Sister Vannisar, always so fond of quoting the Five Spoked Wheel: "The upward path is rough and steep, the downward smooth and easy."
Aravashnial remains quiet for a moment as he considers the circumstances. "I wish I had your optimism in this case, Verene. I rather doubt that they were carrying their patron's symbol when they were active on the surface... unless they came here the same way we did."
"As for the inquisition, well..." The elf wizard shrugs. "We should be careful with our suspicions until they are proven. Haste makes for mistakes, Elliot."
Horgus snorts, but says nothing, his lips twisting in a faintly malevolent grin.
Anevia shakes her head slightly. "I grew up in Nisroch. I know how horrifying and terrible life can be. Propitiation for the sake of safety, I can get. Sadism and inherent cruelty, sure. But when so many have such great possibilities in life as they do in Kenabres..." She chuckles dryly, though it sounds close to a sob. "Or did in Kenabres, I guess."
"These," Lann speaks up, gesturing with his spade-like claws at the corpses, "are not the only ones of their kind down here. We have seen others dressed like them in the tunnels before. They have been more active recently, allying with a tribe of traitors." He says this last with a stony gravity.
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"I simply cannot understand what would drive someone to demon worship, especially this close to the Worldwound."
"Power, lack of empathy, and hubris. They want the power that a fiend offers, they don't care who they have to hurt to get it, and they're arrogant enough to believe that they can control it." Merixia speaks with the voice of experience. She might not have much experience with demon lord cultists, but she has plenty of experience with the church of Asmodeus.
"(Maybe it's a slippery slope. Some might not have a choice, some simply do not oversee the consequences of their actions until it is too late.)"
"It doesn't have to be about power. Revenge itself is a strong reason. To strike back at a society that doesn't accept you because you're somehow different." Elliot chimes in, his face hardening. "People fear both the unknown and what they don't understand. If you're lucky, they only look away."
""We should be careful with our suspicions until they are proven. Haste makes for mistakes, Elliot."
"A good lesson, Master - one the inquisition under Hulrun still has to learn," the apprentice comments dryly.
"These are not the only ones of their kind down here. We have seen others dressed like them in the tunnels before. They have been more active recently, allying with a tribe of traitors."
"That can't be a coincidence, with the attack happening right now," Elliot muses. "Though... that tells us something, and that's that this tribe of traitors and traitor crusaders probably know the way to the surface. If they didn't, the cultists probably wouldn't bother trying to ally with them - or even get here in the first place."
Thesius takes the time to strip out of his armor and replaces it with one of the chain shirts, handing off his old armor to Merixia with a thank you. "The help is appreciated. We should maintain what we can while not hindering ourselves."
He hands the potion to Elyda, explaining, "I believe you used yours. Might be worth having another on hand in case you need it. The scroll should probably stay with Verene or Elliot."
After he'll take whatever has not been gathered by others.
"While it's troubling to hear they are gaining traction down here, it may be worth discussing further as we continue forward. There seems to be little more to be done here."
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Anevia shakes her head slightly. "I grew up in Nisroch. I know how horrifying and terrible life can be. Propitiation for the sake of safety, I can get. Sadism and inherent cruelty, sure. But when so many have such great possibilities in life as they do in Kenabres..." She chuckles dryly, though it sounds close to a sob. "Or did in Kenabres, I guess."
"These," Lann speaks up, gesturing with his spade-like claws at the corpses, "are not the only ones of their kind down here. We have seen others dressed like them in the tunnels before. They have been more active recently, allying with a tribe of traitors." He says this last with a stony gravity.
"Nidal? Oof, you have my sympathies, Anevia. That might be even worse than Cheliax." Merixia gives the archer a commiserating look. Nobody really understands what it's like to grow up in a land dominated by evil unless they've done it themselves.
She turns to Lann, frowning. "Then it is our responsibility as crusaders to eliminate these cultists, and if possible find out more information about them."
"It doesn't have to be about power. Revenge itself is a strong reason. To strike back at a society that doesn't accept you because you're somehow different." Elliot chimes in, his face hardening. "People fear both the unknown and what they don't understand. If you're lucky, they only look away."
"Still not an excuse. It might be a reason to voluntarily worship an evil god or powerful fiend, but there's never an excuse." The tiefling folds her arms stubbornly.
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"Hmm, these chain shirts look pretty nice. Better than most of what you see for sale. Go ahead and grab one, Thesius. I can carry your old armor if you want. Elyda, do you want one?"
"My current armor is sufficient, so one of the others may wear the fine chain shirt, if they desire it. Thank you, Merixia."
"I'm unsure of the scroll," he says while passing it off to Elyda for further inspection since she was the one that identified the spells in the earlier spellbook.
As Verene spoke up about the scroll, Elyda nodded in agreement, "It is indeed a scroll to make a creature frightened. It may be useful to us," she added quietly, leaving the scroll in Verene's care.
Merixia's discovery that the dead were not crusaders but some demon cultists did not sit well with her; nor did the conversation calling into question the inquisitors, even those under Lord Hulrun.
"As for the inquisition, well..." The elf wizard shrugs. "We should be careful with our suspicions until they are proven. Haste makes for mistakes, Elliot."
"Well spoken, Master Aravashnial," letting her eyes linger for a second on Elliot and his indiscrete loathing of the inquisition. He is far too brazen and should learn when to speak his mind and when to remain silent. It will spare his life. Other inquisitors were not as tolerant as she, especially toward someone with Elliot's registered history of transgressions.
He hands the potion to Elyda, explaining, "I believe you used yours. Might be worth having another on hand in case you need it. The scroll should probably stay with Verene or Elliot."
"That is thoughtful, and, I am grateful, Thesius. Thank you," taking possession of the healing potion and securing it inside the pouch at her waist.
Looking around the group, Elyda asked, "Are we ready to move on? It is best we do not linger in one place for too long. By Lann's counsel, there are other demon cultists parading as crusaders and allied with traitors down here. Let us make way to Neathholm," making a move to get into position to start moving again.
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"It doesn't have to be about power. Revenge itself is a strong reason. To strike back at a society that doesn't accept you because you're somehow different." Elliot chimes in, his face hardening. "People fear both the unknown and what they don't understand. If you're lucky, they only look away.""Still not an excuse. It might be a reason to voluntarily worship an evil god or powerful fiend, but there's never an excuse." The tiefling folds her arms stubbornly.
"But... is it really fair to completely disregard someone's environment and upbringing entirely when considering why they fell, or what punishment they deserve?" Elliot asks uneasily, wavering slightly when Merixia, as a Tiefling no less, counters him on that point.
"Then again... maybe I'm not the best person to ask about justice here. There's this beggar girl, a youngling elf, with horrific burn scars all over her body who tends to visit the square. Also misses a few fingers and part of her sight, I think. Hulrun put her on the pyre, for no other reason than that he didn't believe her father had come to Kenabres with her to fight the demons. Not just the father, but his infant child too. She was lucky, that some elder knight tried to get her down during the thing and died in her stead. If someone else hadn't interceeded on my behalf when I was her age, I'd just have burned all the way through."
He shakes his head and glances back at the corpses of the fake crusaders. "Yet at the same time, there are supposedly barely-disguised cultists like these freely walking around in our ranks, allowed to do who-knows-what unopposed. It is... hard to swallow for me."
The young caster sighs and peers down the tunnel in front. "...Anyway, that is probably enough. We should be underway," He looks at Elyda and nods at her. "I think Lady Elyda is a good person. I'm just not sure about the organization as a whole."
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"Then it is our responsibility as crusaders to eliminate these cultists, and if possible find out more information about them."
"Not being a crusader myself, you will have to forgive me for hoping not to encounter any still-living demon cultists on our continued journey," Verene remarks wryly, choosing to abandon, for now, her part in the philosophical discussion about morality. Unsurprisingly, as a civilian and Kenabres native not new to the excesses of Hulrun's pyres, and as one who has never been blessed with any convenient god-given certainty, she finds herself more in agreement with her... with Elliot.
"If someone else hadn't interceded on my behalf when I was her age, I'd just have burned all the way through."
Verene's expression is very grave. She moves to Elliot when he is finished speaking and squeezes his arm briefly, quietly offering her support. "With every day you live, your choices are a rebuke of theirs. You are greater than their certainties, and better than your own fears."
She moves on with the others when they are ready.
"I confess that I, too, am curious about the 'traitor tribe,' and would like to hear why you have called them that as we walk, Lann - only if it is a thing you can speak of to outsiders, of course."
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Aravashnial strokes his chin. "Regardless of the reasons - I am certain that there are manifold - there are clearly demon cultists here in Kenabres, whether converted from within or imported from the Worldwound itself. Their motivations do matter, for some might yet be freed from their slavery to demons, but for now, we shouldn't debate too much." He turns his blindfolded face to sweep over everyone that he's heard speak in the past few moments.
"Chief Sull also knows the way to the surface." Lann adds to Elliot's conclusion, bemused. "Our tribe has sent scouts and the occasional trader up to the surface." His elven features furrow with a frown, whilst his face's reptilian half twists into an oddly puzzled-looking expression. "Admittedly, such ventures have been rare of late."
"One of my Desnan friends mentioned an old associate who'd gone "on vacation" from Nidal to Cheliax. Apparently it's relaxing, dodging Asmodean inquisitors and Hellknights, compared to what he had to deal with in Nidal." Her face is slightly pale, her tone strained, but she smiles. "Now there's at least something that can be said of Hulrun and his sort... at least they're not deliberately malevolent." There's a note of doubt in her voice, but she shakes her head.
Aravashnial clicks his tongue at Elliot's story. "Yes. I recall hearing of that. It was one reason I came to Kenabres. But now is not the time to start arguing - we need to focus on getting to the surface to see if there's anything left to argue about."
Lann and the other forgotten children don't seem terribly interested in the chain shirt and look ready to lead the group onwards. "We're close now. Only a short ways away."
As they go, Crel takes the time to explain that the traitors are a group of forgotten children - but in their case, they were mostly children of native Mendevians or Sarkorians, and when the first crusaders fled into the darkness beneath Kenabres, so too did the natives touched by the Abyss. "Most of us have ended up intermixing and no one cares who are descended which ones, but these ones... they joined the demons rather than tolerate the crusaders' children." He says.
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Elyda listened to the story of the young elven girl who bore the scars of the fire and the death of her father and infant sibling. I cannot believe that Iomedae would see this act as just or honorable... What evil did the infant perpetrate... Such impetuous judgements did not sit well with Elyda, but then she was not a young inquisitor who wished to prove herself through violently zealous deeds. Hulrun Shappok had been such a youth, she had heard. Did the Prelate understand the shame his inquisitions brought to the faith? As inquisitors they were tasked with rooting out and eradicating the demonic taint. If the cultists had infiltrated the inquisition, then chaos would reign.
"...There are supposedly barely-disguised cultists like these freely walking around in our ranks, allowed to do who-knows-what unopposed. It is... hard to swallow for me."
"Equally, it does not sit well with me; moreso being tasked by the Church as I am. We will address this evil once we return to the surface."
He looks at Elyda and nods at her. "I think Lady Elyda is a good person. I'm just not sure about the organization as a whole."
"The same could be said of any society and its members, especially one who holds the ear of the highest ranks. Intent and deed can colour a person for good or bad. I try to do good through my calling; yet I am still learning and understanding nature and intention. None of us know who has survived on the surface...perhaps Prelate Hulrun did not survive the attack. We must focus on our objective down here and to see to our new friends' tribe. If we cross paths with living cultists in these caves, we may wish to keep one alive and question them..."
Thesius sighs as he falls back into position. Hulrun was a sore subject for many without the current situation. His mind starts to wander what could have driven the man to such acts, but thankfully his contemplations are ended before they delve to deep when Anevia mentions a Desnan. He makes note to ask her of it later.
Adjusting the additional bulk upon his person, he adds, "I do believe we should continue forward. The sooner we can be among further allies, the safer we will hopefully be. Then we will have more time to discuss such matters as they may pertain to our future choices."
"Not being a crusader myself, you will have to forgive me for hoping not to encounter any still-living demon cultists on our continued journey," Verene remarks wryly, choosing to abandon, for now, her part in the philosophical discussion about morality.
Merixia looks surprised, then abashed. "I'm sorry, Verene, I shouldn't have assumed."
"I do believe we should continue forward. The sooner we can be among further allies, the safer we will hopefully be. Then we will have more time to discuss such matters as they may pertain to our future choices."
Nodding in agreement, Merixia finishes rigging a makeshift fastening to keep the glaives strapped to her backpack. Hopefully the people of Neathholm will be willing to trade for them. "Agreed. Let's get going."
"Chief Sull also knows the way to the surface."
Least we will not be traversing these caverns blindly in our attempt to reach the surface, "When we speak with Chief Sull, we will ask him for directions out of these caverns. It will save us time for we must see what has happened to those above. Thank you, Lann."
Lann and the other forgotten children don't seem terribly interested in the chain shirt as they aren't proficient in any armor and look ready to lead the group onwards. "We're close now. Only a short ways away."
Elyda nodded, and, having readied herself to move forward, long sword in hand, she moved just behind Lann and Dyra; quiet and vigilant in her position. "We are ready. Let us move on."
True to Lann's word, the group need only travel for another fifteen or so minutes to the north before the forgotten children begin to visibly relax, and the tunnel opens into a twenty-foot diameter cavern. Two more similarly mutated guards stand before two tremendous stone gates at the far end of the cavern.
From a glance, Thesius is certain that the stonework of the doors was made in the same style as the broken watchtower at which they'd first met Lann and the others. The doors look far more worn from use, but they're absolutely in better condition. He's not sure how old they are, but at a guess he'd say "more recent than the shrine, but not by much."
Lann swiftly approaches. "Rak, Ioan! Neathholm survives?" The two guards swiftly move up to embrace their compatriots, though it takes a little longer for Crel to arrive. They talk in low voices, though the language is, surprisingly, Taldane.
"Lann..." Eventually, one of the guards looks at the party. "Who are these upworlders?"
"Friends and crusaders. They saved Crel's life, have slain Lifetwister, and sanctified the place of dread." Lann replies. "I wish to lead them to meet Chief Sull."
"Very well. You may enter, upworlders, but we expect you to be on your best behavior."
Horgus snorts softly, but seems well aware that he ought to mind his tongue here. Aravashnial, by contrast, looks positively excited to have the chance to learn more about the forgotten children.
With that, two guards push open the doors, and the party enters Neathholm. A small, dark lake ripples in the center of the two-hundred foot-wide cavern, the walls and ceiling aglow with thick sheets of luminescent fungi. In the center of the lake, over two dozen low stone buildings cluster on a rocky one-hundred-foot-wide island. Lights glow in the windows of the buildings, giving the settlement an almost welcoming look. Rafts made of mismatched planks of timber bob along the length of a crooked pier at the lake's closest shore.
"Be welcome, friends, in grand Neathholm" Lann says with great formality, waving them inside.
Thesius lets out a sigh of relief as they are welcomed into the town, making note of it's construction and it's similarities to the tower before.
"Thank you all for your aid and hospitality. This is a breath of fresh of air in comparison to the trials we have faced so far, though I fear what is yet to come," he says with a smile as he sheaths his sword. Hopefully there would be no need for it any time soon, but he feels as if that may be simple well wishing more than anything.
A thought suddenly comes to mind and he voices a question to Lann, "Are there any customs here we should be aware of so as not to offend anyone? I would hate to do so out of ignorance."
Merixia looks surprised, then abashed. "I'm sorry, Verene, I shouldn't have assumed."
Verene shrugs. "That's all right. The boundaries are somewhat blurry. I happen to have been born and raised in Kenabres, and to have made no oath to the Crusade. But I suppose no one is truly a civilian on the edge of the Worldwound, where the Crusade is also in many ways the same as the government."
"Very well. You may enter, upworlders, but we expect you to be on your best behavior."
"We are very grateful to be here," Verene adds to the two guards with a polite bow, reaching for an old-fashioned phrase sometimes used to seal promises or oaths in the First Crusade. "Do you keep faith with us, and so shall we keep faith with you."
When they come into Neathholm, she sways momentarily with an unexpectedly strong relief, feeling chills up and down her spine as she stares unseeing at the cozy village lit by luminescent fungus.
Elyda listened to the quiet words in Taldane and the guard's gentle caution to behave within the sanctum of Neathholm. The young inquisitor respectfully inclined her head before moving through the opened doors and taking in the sight before her.
"Be welcome, friends, in grand Neathholm" Lann says with great formality, waving them inside.
The lights coming from the cavern ceiling and windows of the buildings drew her and Elyda stepped deeper within the threshold at the warm reception given by Lann.
"It is an honour to be here, Lann. The comfort you must feel at finding Neathholm unharmed. May the Lady of Valour's blessed Light protect all within this sanctum."
A thought suddenly comes to mind and he voices a question to Lann, "Are there any customs here we should be aware of so as not to offend anyone? I would hate to do so out of ignorance."
Thesius posed a fine and sensible question. Elyda had been watching and learning from the more polite, agreeable members of the party and she had began practicing how to be somewhat tactful in speech and expression. Still, this softness in character could be challenging and it would not do to unintentionally provoke the forgotten children. "The more we know of Neathholm and its people, the better equipped we will be among you," she considerately added to Thesius words.
Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Merixia salutes the Neathholm guard and sheathes her sword. "Of course, and we thank you for your hospitality. May Ragathiel's eyes fall upon you and his wings shield you." With that she follows Lann, yellow eyes wide as she takes in the subterranean city.
"Wow... amazing. Very defensible." She nods in approval. "It must have taken a lot of work to get building materials out to the island." Especially since there are no trees down here.
"Lots and lots of stonework, yes. I wonder if this place was carved out, or if they found this cave like this to start with? It must have been a place of breathtaking beauty for surface refugees. And one with water and fish, maybe. I can see why they settled here." Elliot muses, following Merixia's glance.
He then turns back to their prime guide. "Regardless, thank you, Lann and friends, for your guidance and hospitality. We'll make sure to behave in accordance with your rules."
He maintains his look to Lann a few moments af if to silently ask what those rules were, as his allies had before him.
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Lann looks mildly proud at the achievements of his people, nodding a little at the praise. "To answer your question briefly, Thesius - no. Do not be rude, and know that upworlders are little trusted in these tunnels - especially by those of us who hold true to the crusades."
As he pauses, considering, Crel speaks up. "We do not have nearly as many people as you might be used to seeing. You will account for a significant portion of the population of Neathholm - we have only barely fivefold your number, if that." He shrugs. "You may also be more experienced in combat than our people."
"The first materials brought to the island were by our ancestors, who had far more magic than we do this day. Since then, we've had to work hard to maintain it." Lann adds.
After a moment, Lann realizes something. "We know little of your surface customs, so I know correspondingly little of how our own differentiates from yours."
"I, for one, will be happy to sleep anywhere there's room, so long as it's safe." Anevia says with a wry smile.
Lann chuckles dryly before leading the group to several rafts. Each of the forgotten children takes one, with three of the party on each, save for one that holds two. Rowing across the calm pool is easy, and peaceful, though several members of the tribe of Neathholm arrive on the shores of the island, looking at the new arrivals warily.
Lann waves to his fellows. "Dyra, your husband is belike waiting for you. Crel, go seek out Seer Opoli and get your wounds tended. Master Aravashnial, Madame Anevia, you should go with him, see if you have any injuries that need tending. She knows more about medicine than the rest of our people."
"Erm, Lann..." Aravashnial shifts restlessly. "You mentioned a Borr? A storyteller?"
The forgotten child laughs. "I will direct him to you when all is settled with the others. Seer Opoli may also share insights with you into our humble magical traditions."
The elf man seems satisfied with that, and he, Anevia, and Crel leave swiftly, as does Dyra. Lann, meanwhile, guides Horgus and the party into the village, where a humble hut stands. "Chief Sull. It is Lann - I bring news of the watch tower, and of upworlder allies."
"Enter." An old, high-pitched voice emerges from within. Lann opens the door, and gestures the party inside.
Seated at a table with a stylus in one hand is an elderly forgotten child. His face is vaguely ratlike, and his gray hair sticks out at odd angles in braids. One eye, larger than the other, is milky white, and he smiles slightly to see Lann. His frame is broad, and though his spine is bent with age, it is clear that this man was once a warrior. Horgus coughs loudly, but his eyes are cast in shadow by the luminous fungus sitting on the table.
"Ah, Lann. It is good that you have returned. We feared the worst when the quake struck. What of Dyra and Crel?"
"Both survived - Crel due to the intervention of these upworlder crusaders and friends."
"Ah. It is meet, then, that I offer you what hospitality and rewards our humble village can muster, surfacers." Chief Sull examines each in turn. "What are your names, friends of Neathholm?"
Thesius goes into a bow before the man while introducing himself, "Hello Cheif Sull. I would be Thesius Monteblanc. It is a pleasure to meet you and thank you for your hospitality. While I am but one of our group, I can say firmly say that I am merely glad that we were able to help your people in their time of need." As he straightens once more he turns to his comrades to give them the time to introduce themselves before continuing on.
"We do not have nearly as many people as you might be used to seeing. You will account for a significant portion of the population of Neathholm - we have only barely fivefold your number, if that." He shrugs. "You may also be more experienced in combat than our people."
"The first materials brought to the island were by our ancestors, who had far more magic than we do this day. Since then, we've had to work hard to maintain it," Lann adds.
Verene shakes herself from her momentary abstraction and follows the others to the rafts. The village appears secure and well-built, if small, and since Lann says they have been here continuously through the decades following their ancestors' arrival, they must have worked out how to ensure the water of the tiny lake stays fresh and drinkable, to say nothing of how to feed three dozen or so people at once, between fish and the meager amount of other life that can be supported in this network of caves.
It still seems to her a precarious, bleak, and stale existence, one deprived of much that surface dwellers take for granted. But it just goes to show that people are adaptable, and can thrive wherever they find themselves. What they have accomplished is remarkable, and it would not do to forget that when gently bringing up that the forgotten children of the Crusades should not be forced to remain forgotten and buried down here forever.
When Lann leads them to the hut and gestures them inside after receiving permission, Verene again shows no reaction to the appearance of the elderly chief. She bows as formally to him as she would to the ruler of Kenabres. "Chief Sull, thank you for allowing us to impose upon your gracious hospitality. I am Verene Tanaquil, a translator and apprentice wizard, and this is my familiar and friend Thamyris." Thamyris trills a greeting and bows.
Beginning to gesture to the others, Verene continues, "And here is Lord Horgus Gwerm, of Kenabres; Elliot— ah, but I should let everyone introduce themselves. All of us fell from Clydwell Plaza in Kenabres yesterday noon when its Wardstone was destroyed in an explosion and a large number of demons, including the balor lord Khorramzadeh, attacked the city from without and beneath the streets during the Armasse celebrations. Two of our number who were badly injured in that attack ― the master wizard Aravashnial and the Eagle Watch member Anevia Tirablade ― have gone to meet your Seer Opoli along with Crel, to see if she can help them with her knowledge of medicine.
"Our lives were only saved by the intervention of the great silver dragon Terendelev, but—" she swallows hard and continues, "Unfortunately, we believe she did not survive. We have no knowledge of what has taken place in the city since then, but as you can imagine, we are greatly anxious to return to the surface, to find and assist our families, friends and comrades."
Finally she adds, "I am sorry to bring only troubles to your door, but Lann tells us we also may have unhappy news of a more personally relevant nature for you." She glances at Elliot, with a meaningful head-tilt.
Merixia bows to the Neathholm chief. "I am Merixia Pentarian, a cleric of Ragathiel. It's an honor to meet you, Chief Sull, and we appreciate your hospitality. I would be happy to help your people fight your enemies, and to help Seer Opoli care for the sick and wounded. My knowledge of medicine is rather basic and my healing magic isn't very strong, but I'm willing to do what I can."
As each companion took their turn to introduce themselves to the chieftain, Elyda followed their lead, and, when it was her turn, she inclined her head respectfully to the leader, "Well met, Chief Sull. I am Elyda Evandros, an inquisitor serving the Lady of Valour. I originally hale from the Holy City of Light in Lastwall, but, as my companion has stated, we fell from the plaza in Kenabres into these caverns and have since been trying to find our way back to the surface. It is fortunate we crossed paths with Lann and his companions. It is good to be here in Neathholm and considered friends to the tribe."
Elliot wait patiently for the others to introduce themselves first. "Pleased to meet you as well, Chief Sull, and thank you for your words of welcome. I am Elliot, adopted son of Harran and Lene Worthane. As far as I know, I am from Kenabres. Since I had some magical talent, I was apprenticed to Master Aravashnial when I was young. Felt like I didn't see the outside of the library for *years*!" he smiles faintly as if relieving some nostalgic memory. "Though that probably was unavoidable, after setting the beard of inquisitor Hulrun on fire."
He scratches his flaming hair and glancea over his companions. "I don't really have anything else to add about our circumstances. Just that I hope to get upside as soon as possible to look for my parents and sister. The thought of demons or cultists getting their hands on them while I'm stuck here..." he looks away.
"As to the other matter I referenced, we mentioned to Lann that very near the cave-in where we fell, we found an abandoned campsite. Among its contents were a holy symbol of Iomedae's sword piercing Aroden's eye, and a brooch worked in copper, of a bat with eyes of amethyst perched on a mushroom. He told us you would greatly wish to have these, as they likely belonged to your missing son. But I regret to say that although we saw no person or identifiable body that could have been him, anywhere along our path here, the campsite looked like it had not been inhabited by anything but two giant cockroaches for some time, and any other way past the cavern where we fell was blocked by impassable rubble. I wish we could give you more hope, or at least more certainty." Assuming he doesn't protest, Verene gently steers Elliot forward to hand over the symbol and brooch he is carrying to the chief.
Predictably, Horgus remains quiet, though he shifts slightly as though he wants to say something. Nevertheless, he abides by Verene's request to remain courteous - if only through silence, in this case.
"Thesius Monteblanc, Verene Tanaquil and Thamyris, Lord Horgus Gwerm, Merixia Pantarian, Elyda Evandros, and Elliot son of Harran and Lene." Sull muses. "Your names make good hearing, and your courtesy does you honor."
He shifts on his chair, setting down his stylus. "Terendelev is a name I have heard before. She saved the city when I was younger - something we were grateful for, though none of us had ever seen her. It makes ill hearing to know that such a champion has fallen." His oddly high-pitched voice is grave.
The chief turns to Merixia. "While I know naught of Ragathiel, for your aid to my people I shall offer praise to your deity." He pauses, his smaller eye blinking. "Though it pains me to admit, our Seer is no priest of the Light of the Sword, nor any other deity. She communes with the spirits, but her prowess is not as great as those of the clergy above. Nevertheless, we shall offer all the aid we are capable of."
"Ah, a follower of Iomedae. You are most welcome here, Elyda Evandros. Be aware that our faith in her may be different from those above, but we are no less devout than your fellows." Sull says, folding his hands.
He chuckles at Elliot. "Of course, you wish to return to the surface." He waves a hand. "We shall aid you in that - though we appear freakish and be outcast from the lands above, we, too, are children of the Crusade, and wish for the defeat of the demons no less than any."
Verene's news brings a mistiness to his smaller eye and a sudden sorrow to his face. "Alas... I feared as much. I knew my son would not return, but to hear confirmation makes terrible hearing." He falls silent a moment, his eyes falling shut.
Slowly, he rises from his fungus-wood seat and takes the holy symbol and brooch both. Shuffling over to a small cabinet, he removes a morningstar that glows with a faint light, with roses entwined about its shaft. Turning, he offers it to the group.
"Here. This is an enchanted weapon, which will guide your strikes and smite your enemies. It was mine own weapon in my youth, but I have little use for it. Take it as a token of my gratitude for returning news of my blood." "I will not take any refusals. This is yours."
Lann's eyes widen slightly, but he bows his head in acknowledgement of the gravity of the gift.
He takes a deep breath, air whistling through his sharpened teeth. "Now. As for returning to the surface... we know several ways out, but to our sorrow, the traitors have taken up residence in the closest one. These people have betrayed all that our ancestors stood for to take up arms along with the demons. If you were to make your way through their territory and clear them out, we shall be better able to aid you in your fights against the demons in the future."
Chief Sull lowers his head. "I only ask that you use this gift to split at least one traitor's skull on your way to the surface."
The chief turns to Merixia. "While I know naught of Ragathiel, for your aid to my people I shall offer praise to your deity." He pauses, his smaller eye blinking. "Though it pains me to admit, our Seer is no priest of the Light of the Sword, nor any other deity. She communes with the spirits, but her prowess is not as great as those of the clergy above. Nevertheless, we shall offer all the aid we are capable of."
"If you would like, I would be happy to tell you more about Ragathiel. Given that he ascended from a half-fiend to an angel and then an empyreal lord, I find his story inspiring." Merixia gestures at her horns. Maybe these forgotten ones will appreciate Ragathiel's story as well. "If not, that's quite all right."
"Here. This is an enchanted weapon, which will guide your strikes and smite your enemies. It was mine own weapon in my youth, but I have little use for it. Take it as a token of my gratitude for returning news of my blood." "I will not take any refusals. This is yours."
Lann's eyes widen slightly, but he bows his head in acknowledgement of the gravity of the gift.
He takes a deep breath, air whistling through his sharpened teeth. "Now. As for returning to the surface... we know several ways out, but to our sorrow, the traitors have taken up residence in the closest one. These people have betrayed all that our ancestors stood for to take up arms along with the demons. If you were to make your way through their territory and clear them out, we shall be better able to aid you in your fights against the demons in the future."
Chief Sull lowers his head. "I only ask that you use this gift to split at least one traitor's skull on your way to the surface."
"Wow. This is quite an honor, Chief Sull. That is truly a beautiful weapon." Merixia likes her bastard sword, though. She turns to Elyda. "You use a morningstar sometimes. Do you want it? Or perhaps you, Thesius?" The half-elf's longsword doesn't look like cold iron and he doesn't seem to have any weapon-enhancing spells, so a magical weapon would probably help him against demons. "As for your traitors, I think it's best that we eliminate them. Not just for you, although I'm happy to help your people. If demon cultists have set up in the exit to the surface, it's entirely possible that they could pose a threat to Kenabres."
"More than they already have?" Horgus asks, his lips twisted in dark amusement. "It's a bit late to be worrying about what damage they'll do to Kenabres. It's better to think about how to salvage what's left."
"Ah, a follower of Iomedae. You are most welcome here, Elyda Evandros. Be aware that our faith in her may be different from those above, but we are no less devout than your fellows." Sull says, folding his hands.
"I understand, Chief Sull. The Lady of Valour has shown me that I can trust in your people and I am content in this," Elyda responded politely and steadily.
"Alas... I feared as much. I knew my son would not return, but to hear confirmation makes terrible hearing." He falls silent a moment, his eyes falling shut.
Elyda, too, bowed her head in silence for the son of the chieftain. They had no definitive proof that he was dead. yet, they had not sighted him alive and well either.
...a morningstar that glows with a faint light, with roses entwined about its shaft. Turning, he offers it to the group. "Here. This is an enchanted weapon, which will guide your strikes and smite your enemies. It was mine own weapon in my youth, but I have little use for it. Take it as a token of my gratitude for returning news of my blood." "I will not take any refusals. This is yours."
As Merixia accepted the magical weapon on behalf of the party, Elyda first responded to the leader of the forgotten children, "Chief Sull, I wish we had better news of your son. This gift is generous and we are grateful. May the Lady of Valour's Light shine upon you." Once more bowing her head in acknowledgement of the honourable gift. Then accepting and looking over the finely crafted, enchanted morningstar, Elyda looked to Merixia and answered, "It is a fine weapon and it would certainly be a boon to Thesius to have and use in our work," and with that she handed the enchanted weapon to Thesius for safekeeping.
"As for your traitors, I think it's best that we eliminate them. Not just for you, although I'm happy to help your people. If demon cultists have set up in the exit to the surface, it's entirely possible that they could pose a threat to Kenabres."
"I agree with Merixia. We must eliminate their threat. Let us deal with these dishonorable cultists directly." Elyda had heard Horgus' words regarding salvaging what was left, yet she did not address them at present.
Thesius listens intently to the news, afraid for those above as he hears about the additional threats they may be facing. At Merixia's words he speaks up, "I do agree it should go to Elyda if she can make use of it. If not, I'll take it..." he starts to say as Elyda answers and hands the weapon off to him. "Thank you. I will try to put it to the best possible use that I can."
Going back to the topic of cultists, he proceeds to inquire about them. "Do you know how many these cultists number? Hopefully they within our means to remove."
"Alas... I feared as much. I knew my son would not return, but to hear confirmation makes terrible hearing." He falls silent a moment, his eyes falling shut.
Verene bows her head in acknowledgement of a father's grief. Did my mother and father ever fear this same conversation? There were many months between my letters at times, and surely not all made their way successfully to them. I only thought of how badly I needed answers, but to them it must have felt like an abandonment.
Her eyes widen when Chief Sull presents them with the enchanted morningstar. "That is a princely gift, and one that no doubt will see fierce fighting before long. Thank you very much."
"As for returning to the surface... we know several ways out, but to our sorrow, the traitors have taken up residence in the closest one. These people have betrayed all that our ancestors stood for to take up arms along with the demons. If you were to make your way through their territory and clear them out, we shall be better able to aid you in your fights against the demons in the future."
Verene's attention is caught by the final statement. "Thesius asks a fair question. I would add, in what way do you expect you and your people offer your aid in the fight against the Abyss, if the cultists between yourselves and the surface were removed? Would you want to return to the surface, if it could be done safely?
Also, if you don't mind my asking - have you an endonym, a name your people call themselves to distinguish you from other lineages of people? I have been thinking of you as something like, 'children of the First Crusaders,' but that is a little long for everyday."