Othniel walks on the opposite side from Ayaal, watching the other direction.
Ayaal ghosts after Anevia, eyes alert for trouble while she tries to calm and quiet her a bit. ”Quietly, please. Remember we’re in hostile territory. Let’s take a look inside – carefully.”
Anastasia moves to grab Irabeth by the back of her collar like a child. "You should know better." she scolded in a low growl.
Ana misses at her attempt to stop Anevia from continuing, but there is no need. She nods her head looking somewhat embarrassed.
"You're right of course, I should have thought about that. I was just so worried...how do you want to approach this? There shouldn't be anyone in there but Irabeth, if she is in there at all."
She moves closer to the front door before taking a closer look, moving much more quietly and discreetly.
"It's locked, and I don't have my key. Bust in or try to unlock it?"
"Not sure about a lock, but this is our last stop before defender's hearth yes?" Ana asks her comrades. With a grim smile she draws out her mutagen and an extract. "I can knock the door down, or wait to take these until one of our group unlocks it. If anyone can, let me drink these before we head in."
"I don't believe Irabeth would thank us for breaking her door. Let me try another way."
The priestess pulls a fine set of lockpicks from her bandolier, calls on Shelyn to bless her efforts with bit of luck... and works on picking the lock
Arrows (40): xxxxx xx
Blunts (40): xx
Slow Burn (1):
Tangleshot (2):
Grappling (1):
Bit of Luck (7): x
Channel Energy (5):
Ki Pool (5):
Perfect Strike (3): x
Deflection Aura (1):
See Invisibility (1): x
Shield (1):
Spells
2nd
> Barkskin (1):
> Boneshaker (1): x
> Pro from Evil, Communal (1):
1st
> Bless (1): x
> Murderous Command (1): x
> Shadow Trap (1):
> Shield (1):
Effects:
x = none
Othniel keeps watch while the others stack the door.
Ayaal quickly jimmies the lock open and pushes the door inwards, revealing a scene of disarray. Two overturned chairs sit in front of a fireplace that is still alight with flame, throwing light into the otherwise dark room. A trail of blood leads from the door into the darkness to the north, where more droplets seem to be spread. Other than the crackling flames, the house is silent.
Anevia sees the trail of blood and stifles a cry of alarm, her hand moving to cover her mouth.
"We have to find her."
Angahaar nods to Ayaal, ”Let’s keep moving in. Head on quietly, we’ll be there to back you up.”
Ayaal nods. Given the tight spaces ahead, she shoulders her bow and pulls out a three-section-staff which she holds in one hand as she proceeds quietly along the blood path.
Ana downs her extract and mutagen just outside the door. "If she's hurt there's no time for sneaking." she reasons, "I'm not sneaky, but you should be able to follow. I'll do my best."
Othniel follows Anastasia, quarterstaff at the ready.
The trail of blood ends abruptly in the hallway, as it leads to the body of a half-orc laying on the floor with his thick black robes seemingly clawed open across his chest.
At the sight, Anevia gasps in shock. "I know this man! He was one of several cultists Irabeth tracked down during her time in the River Kingdoms. If I remember right, he was thrown into what served as a jail for that kingdom and left to rot. What is he doing here....did he track us here to try and get revenge?"
She looks towards the double door in fear before seemingly finding her courage.
"That way's the bedroom, I just pray we are not too late."
Ayaal continues forward with equal care, towards the bedroom.
Ana gives a brief look over the cultist to make sure he was dead, before she also move to the bedroom. With equal lack of care. When she meets the door it is with the determination of finding out who the stronger was. Seemingly determined to bulldoze any obstacle in short order.
Angahaar follows along, greatsword ready to bring to bear.
The cultist is dead, and his corpse carries some amount of gear: a ranseur, two potions a wand, 43 gp, and an unholy symbol of a god you don't recognize as being either of the two you've dealt with so far.
His fatal wounds appear to have been caused by a pair of large obviously not human claws.
The bedroom door opens onto exactly that: a bedroom. A crude ritual circle has been drawn on the bed in what appears to be dried blood, several hours ago by the looks of it. Above the bed in the ceiling is a large hole that looks like something made its way out of this room before leaving via the roof.
A quick search of the room is enough to show that whoever did this didn't search the bedroom well at all: a secret niche is hidden behind a painting left untouched behind the head of the bed.
With the bedroom empty and 'whatever' having escaped... Ayaal searches the bedroom for any sign of Irabeth, hoping to find nothing.
Finally, she returns to the corpse and tries to identify the unholy symbol.
Ana scowls up at the hole in the ceiling and curses. "If Irabeth isn't here we need to get moving." she reasoned, "The death of a cultist isn't as pressing a concern."
Othniel casts Detect Magic in an attempt to identify the wand, then tries to help Ayaal with the unholy symbol.
Ayaal successfully identifies the symbol as that of Xoveron, a relatively minor demon lord of ruins and gargoyles.
The ranseur is a Ranseur of the Gargoyle, aptly named. The wand is a wand of magic missile (caster level 3, 11 charges left).
Both luckily and unluckily, Irabeth isn't here. Evidence of her is, however, as the group turns up a message apparently written for Anevia from the Eagle Watch member. It tells her to go to the Defender's Heart, where the crusaders are setting up a last bastion against the chaos of the outside world. It also provides a word that will identify them as friends: "Silverstrong". Alongside the note are five potions, two of cure moderate wounds and three of invisibility.
The priest takes the unholy symbol. "They are bringing every demon lord they have... even the small ones, like Xoveren. That's not good."
She looks to Anevia, "It seems like your wife made it to safety. Perhaps we should follow suit."
Angahaar grimaces at the sight of the cultist, ”A foul servant of a foul demon. The monsters of the world now flock to Kenabres, damnations upon them. It heartens me to know Irabeth yet lives and has rallied the righteous to her side. All the more reason to make haste there.”
Ana adjusted her pack and gave her warhammer a few experimental squeezes. "Anything good there?" she asks the others, "Or can we hurry on toe defender's hearth to find the missus?" Her muscles tensed periodically all on their own. The woman had seemed agitated ever since she had taken her mutagen.
Beyond the potions and the note, the house doesn't have much else of value. Seems that the couple donate quite a lot of whatever pay they get to the crusade, or other charities.
The trip to Defender's Heart is luckily quite uneventful, beyond the occasional unfortunate corpse of demons and mortals alike. Defender’s Heart was the largest inn in Kenabres even before the attack—a stout stone structure that survived the fall of Kenabres with ease. Built to last and apparently largely ignored by the initial demonic attack, it seems the perfect place for the remaining crusaders to form a sort of defensive line against the horrors of the day.
A makeshift gate has been formed out of the smashed remains of the first one, where several guards with longspears man the defenses.
"Halt! Who goes there?" a gruff voice calls out from under a battered helmet.
The bird-helmed archer doesn't drop her guard, even when answering, "Ayaal, priestess of Shelyn... and several other 'silverstrong' friends of the crusade. We have a few injured and a wagon-load of supplies."
"And how can we be sure you aren't more demons in disguise, come to infiltrate our ranks?" the man calls out angrily. "We uncovered the last group that tried it!"
Ayaal understood caution, but this might be verging into paranoia. ”So, the demons have the passphrase I just gave you?” She motions Anevia forward, ”Irabeth’s wife is among our number. If you don’t recognize us, one of you should recognize her.”
Angahaar rolls up his shirt sleeve and shows the guard the patch of silver scales on his arm, "See these scales, friend? They mark me as a bearer of the blood of Terendelev, may the Waybringer and the Inheritor bless her name. Would a descendent of the guardian of Kenabres, the one who gave her life to protect this city, fall to the vile corruption of the Abyss and stoop to such wicked deception?"
"Has Aravashnial arrived yet? When we parted he said he would be heading here, and he will know me." Othniel says, brushing some hair back from his face.
The party's words combined with the password manage to convince the guard that you are who you say you are. He lowers his spear and waves you past.
"Go on, the old elf is waiting on you. Said you'd be coming along shortly. Sorry about not trusting you at first, you understand how things have to be here now."
He shakes his head, his eyes showing the stress and lack of sleep of the past few days.
"Get inside, there's fresh stew cooking. Should be ready soon."
The bird-masked woman nods. "Thanks. Where are supplies being organized? We've got a wagon-load."
Anastasia holds the wagon's lead over her shoulders, firmly gripped in either hand. She leaned forward and used them as support while she caught her breath. Her brow and neck were both wet with sweat she could feel on the back of her shirt. "That we do." she agrees, "Don't tell me to take it around the back either. Point me to the tavern keep. I have need of them."
"A wagon-load of what, food? Weapons? Regardless, there's a storage barn across the yard from the inn where everyone's holed up. Joran Vhane, our current acting quartermaster, will get you settled in and taken care of. Welcome to the Defender's Heart!"
"Food, I think. We were too busy dealing with demons to take inventory." She replies drily. Now that they are relatively safe, Ayaal shoulders her bow and moves to the back of the wagon to help push it.
Othniel joins the others and lends his aid with the wagon, for what its worth.
Angahaar helps with pulling the wagon the rest of the way to the quarter master before heading inside. He was eager to see if any of his kin (or his best friends, a pair of Kellid twins) had made it to safety.
The quartermaster, Joran Vhane, is a stout dwarven man of medium age for his kind. He greets you warmly, thanking you for the delivery of food.
"Is there anything mundane I can get you, equipment wise? We don't have too much, but basic cold iron weapons or ammunition we should be able to handle."
Once you re-equip yourselves from what stock he does have and you make your way inside the inn proper, you see a ragtag collection of civilians, crusaders, city guards, and refugees. Most are injured in some way, though none seem to be immediately fatal wounds.
A large half-orc in full plate notices your group entering, and lumbers her way over quickly towards you before picking Anevia up in her arms and spinning the two around. It only takes a few seconds of this before she realizes Anevia is hurt, and she immediately sets her down.
"Ah, I'm so sorry love, I didn't notice!"
She turns towards you finally to address you.
"Thank you so much for bringing my wife back safely. I'm Irabeth, as you might have gathered. I am the de facto leader of the Eagle Watch now, given the recent...damage the city has taken." she pauses to give each of you a chance to introduce yourselves before continuing.
”If you can spare any cold Iron arrows, I’d appreciate it.”
”Ayaal… in Shelyn’s service.”
Anastasia pauses a moment as she watches the reunion, briefly wondering about the circumstance that brought the two together. She drags her thumb across the broad side of her new warhammer, and looks down into the metal a moment at her reflection. When Irabeth steps forward she does likewise, presenting her hand in invitation.
"Well met." she offers, "I am Anastasia Tirajen Armat of Andoran. If you have further need of my service simply say the word. There were not many demons in the rift we fell into, and note nearly enough cultists."
Othniel nods curtly. "Othniel. Is Aravashnial around? I want to be sure he made it in safe."
”If you can spare any cold Iron arrows, I’d appreciate it.”
"Luckily we have plenty of those laying around. Not hard to make at all, what with all the imports from Mendev."
If you have further need of my service simply say the word.
She sighs at hearing this, a stressful sigh rather than a frustrated one. "If only you knew how glad I am to hear that. We don't have much info on how things truly are out there, do you have anything to report?" she laughs, stopping herself. "Apologies, I'm used to dealing with Eagle Knight recruits. If you have any useful information about what's happening on the street I would love to hear it."
Is Aravashnial around? I want to be sure he made it in safe."
"He is, I believe he is resting upstairs in a room. It's a miracle he made it back at all, but those 'librarians' with him are apparently no slouches either."
"I do not think our report of the streets would do much good." Anastasia relates with a look of regret, "It is chaos. Demons do as they please, be that fighting or staging... plays? Some crusaders have lost leave of their senses their morale is so low. People are desperate and just trying to survive however they can. I feel if we retraced our steps it would be entirely different."
The women seemed despondent as she spoke, but then her features hardened. "I need to see the barkeep." she stated flatly before heading into the in.
Angahaar places a fist on his chest in a crusader's salute when Irabeth introduces herself, "Angahaar, Scion of Terendelev, ready for action. It is madness and bloodshed on the streets. The demons act with impunity, and the city has felt their mindless wrath."
After introducing himself, he takes stock of the civilians sheltering in the tavern, looking for anyone familiar.
"I do not think our report of the streets would do much good." "I need to see the barkeep."
Irabeth at first seems frustrated at Ana’s apparent lack of care about the current situation and goes to speak, but then takes a step back and nods.
”Right, take a rest. We can talk about anything you may have learned about what happened to Kenabres after you get a chance to recover and recuperate. You’ll know where to find me when that happens.”After introducing himself, he takes stock of the civilians sheltering in the tavern, looking for anyone familiar.
In fact, Angahaar spies one half of the Kellid twins he was looking for earlier, and he quickly spots Angahaar in return. He hurries over and clasps his arms around the man before taking a step back and looking a bit stressed.
”Ah, it’s good to see you brother! But, my brother, my actual brother I mean. He didn’t make it here. I got separated from him when the attack began, and haven’t seen him since. Have you seen any sign of him yet?”
Ayaal approaches Irabeth. ”Sorry, Commander, it’s been a long… I don’t know how long. We were underground since shortly after the attack.” Now, off the battlefield, she pushes her bird visor up onto the top of her head revealing a sweat-streaked face and equally damp head of hair. At first glance, she looks human. But the bones of her face are too angular, her nose is improbably sharp, and her eyes are an unnatural green.
She finds a map of the city and sets it on the table. ”We were underground and emerged… here.” She marks a spot on the map. ”There is a friendly mongrelman camp below the city. Something to keep in mind.” She begins tracing a path with her finger. ”From there, we went this way and…” She proceeds to describe the ruin of the city, the monsters they encountered, where there are breaches in the walls, that they dropped Gwerm off at his estate, who they rescued and the circumstances, and any other details she can recall. She concludes by pulling out the unholy symbol retrieved from Irabeth’s house. ”We stopped by your home. Some creature was summoned or born there and flew through your roof. It may be a demonic gargoyle. This is the symbol of Xoveren, a minor lord of ruins and gargoyles. It was found in your hallway.”
After checking on Aravashnial, Othniel returns in time to nod along with Ayaal's recap, adding a detail here and there. "I think what it boils down to is that we're on the defensive everywhere. We need to rest up, gather our wits and, I don't know, find a way to hit back, make the demons react to us. As anarchic as they are, I'm not sure they even have a headquarters, logistics, etc, but there's got to be something more we could do than wander the streets and attack any demon we see."
Angahaar returns the gesture in kind, grinning widely, ”Urgun! It is good to see you, brother.”
His face quickly falls, ”Brusk did not make it here? Fires of hell, I have not seen him.”
Angahaar sighs, ”Despair hangs heavy upon the streets of Kenabres. Families sundered by the confusion of war. But rest assured, I will do all I can to find your brother, to bring him back alive or to scour from Golarion those who may have done him harm.”