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Noting a faint magic glow behind the mirror, he moves it and says "Some hidden goodies here."
The books have his interest as well and he will take the time to skim through them, "Okay, the necromancy research and golem studies I expected, but the raw details on plagues and disease is the horrific frosting on a layered terror cake."
He shares what magic he senses with the group, and then... says "And.. then there's this poor fellow. What's left of him."
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On the shelf in his room, the derro necromancer's spellbook, a tattered collection of almost-indecipherable scribbles and crude arcane diagrams, is wedged between 'Advanced Common-Undercommon Dictionary, With Many Helpful Illustrations And Explanations' and 'Tomb Construction Standards Across Human Civilizations, A Treatise'.
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On the shelf in his room, the derro necromancer's spellbook, a tattered collection of almost-indecipherable scribbles and crude arcane diagrams, is wedged between 'Advanced Common-Undercommon Dictionary, With Many Helpful Illustrations And Explanations' and 'Tomb Construction Standards Across Human Civilizations, A Treatise'.
While sorting through the other books, Shane, when he gets a chance to look at this one, reads excitedly, "Ah ha.. now this is nice I..." His face falls "Necromancy, Necromancy, Necromancy, Necromancy..." A sigh "Evocation... more necromancy, feather fall, got that one but still nice to see..ah, FINALLY something I can grow into. Maybe gets better from.. nope, back to Necromancy, evocation, necromancy, evocation and again with the evcations, aha .. one I can use.. two more necromancies.. oh ho, one I can use...and the small stuff." He chuckles "Well, given what the prisoners have been through, it feels petty to whine about it. I'd like the spellbook for the few things I can glean from it later in time."
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As soon as the derro's lifeless form tumbles to the floor and a quick search confirms the rest of the complex is secure, Elric grabs the rope from Abella's pack and heads back to the prisoner pits.
After tying one end of the rope into a double loop, he lowers it into the pit and instructs Dal to place the unconscious lad into the loops.
Wrapping the rope around his torso and holding it tight, he slowly walks backwards, pulling the injured child up to safety, before holding the rope taunt for the others to climb out.
"It's tempting to wait here for Rolth to return, but we had better get everyone out of here and into the care of a healer, including Pava and Shrike. I doubt it would be advisable to let that disease run its natural course."
He checks in on the others still in the final room, regarding the wiggling torso and arm with concern. "Anyone know how to stop that? Also, unless I'm mistaken, we're still missing some pieces. I sure hope Daphne has not eaten them. Audria, perhaps you could ask her?"
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When the necromancer dies, so too does the light in Audria's eyes. Her hair returns to its normal strawberry-blonde color, and the runes blazing with holy fire that had covered her armor and halberd flicker and go out like candles being snuffed by the wind. She looks at the derro's body and wonders why she hadn't been able to land even one blow on him, even after calling upon the power her goddess had blessed her with. Had she angered Shelyn somehow? Did she do wrong in attacking the necromancer without offering him a chance to surrender? Worse still, was she perhaps not as skilled as she believed herself to be? The questions weigh heavily on her as she helps the others search the rest of the complex and helps Dal get the prisoners out of the pits and uses what power she has to heal any of their wounds that she can.
She startles when Elric asks her a question. Not trusting her voice at the moment, she nods and heads back to the chamber with the otyugh.
"D-Dafni," Audria calls out, her voice breaking a little. "Were you given any body parts with marks on them to eat." She describes the tattoos they'd seen on Gaekhen's remains as best she can to the surprisingly friendly aberration.
No worries. It didn't really come up. :)
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The otyugh opens an eyestalk lazily. "mmm? you looking for the spiced legs? i was letting them mature a little." The other eyestalk gestures vaguely towards the pile of refuse in the middle of the cavern. Indeed, the legs and hips of a human are peeking out at the top of the pile, the tattoos on them similar to the ones Audria has seen on the other recovered parts of Gaekhen's body.
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"Yes. Could I please have them," she asks. "I'll bring you something else to eat, but those belonged to someone that we need to return to his family."
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"are you asking me if you can have them? go ahead, if you're hungry." Dafne wiggles their enormous body for a more comfortable position. "what was all that noise earlier? lots of thumping and shouting."
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He shares what magic he senses with the group, and then... says "And.. then there's this poor fellow. What's left of him."
"His name is Gaekhen," Nips at Heels rebukes Shane, eyes flat.
They turn their head so they don't have to watch Gaekhen's body twitch, but torture themself just a bit by not quite letting him leave their sight.
"Abella, tell me you can free him from this."
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"Oh, um," Audria says, wondering what she should say for a brief moment before settling on the truth. "There were some bad people that were hurting people, and we had to fight them."
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He shares what magic he senses with the group, and then... says "And.. then there's this poor fellow. What's left of him.""His name is Gaekhen," Nips at Heels rebukes Shane, eyes flat.
They turn their head so they don't have to watch Gaekhen's body twitch, but torture themself just a bit by not quite letting him leave their sight.
"Abella, tell me you can free him from this."
"My apologies to you and to Gaekhen," He inclines his head, "No insult was meant. "
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Dafne cocks her head, considering. "they went bad? yes, i thought so, some of them smelled a little funny. well, if you don't want them just bring them to me." She does not object to Audria taking Gaekhen's legs.
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When the derro falls, Shrike stares down at him for a moment, her shoulders moving with labored but silent breaths as the tension of the battle releases. The spatter of his arterial blood on the pale grey shrike mask, with its huge unblinking black eyes and hooked beak, make her look momentarily like some nightmarish spirit herself.
She turns slightly away and picks up her branched spear, wiping it clean of tainted derro blood and any dirt with a new rag. She murmurs something in Elven as she does so.
The sword she wipes similarly clean and sheaths. The continued shooting pains in her left shoulder are visible, barely, in the way she favors that arm as she does so. The injury is starting to feel chilly and too hot by turns, which can mean nothing good.
"Pretty sure at least one of you was infected.. we might want to get to a temple after this." A look of concern. "After we get the survivors home."
"It's tempting to wait here for Rolth to return, but we had better get everyone out of here and into the care of a healer, including Pava and Shrike. I doubt it would be advisable to let that disease run its natural course."
"They need the temple too. This one." Her head jerks in the direction of the nearby Grand Cathedral of Pharasma, not six hundred feet from the entrance to this charnel pit. Everyone knows that the Gray Lady hates undead as a perversion of her natural order, and this entire small district of the Gray is supposed to be under her priests' jurisdiction. "This happened under their noses."
On this grim note, Shrike clears the remaining three rooms of the complex at Elric's side, spear in hand. As soon as she is sure no more hostile creatures are currently here, while Elric is helping Dal and the boy with Abella's rope, and Shane and some of the others are collecting and inspecting their finds, she returns to the room with the prisoners' pits and jumps down into the one holding Ivy herself. She kneels down so the half-elf can put her feet in Shrike's laced hands, then boosts her up in a practiced acrobat's throw that she must have done a thousand times as part of the corps in The Pharaoh and the Fool. After Ivy is out, she clambers up again herself, cutting handholds and footholds out of the earthen walls if necessary with her dagger.
There is one more thing to take care of. Shrike returns to the first of the well-kept bedrooms and takes a clean sheet, then goes back to fleshcrafters' laboratory. She covers Gaekhen's face with the sheet, unable to look at his mortified flesh, and uses her dagger — not any of the glinting tools — to carefully cut through the stitches connecting Gaekhen's head to the seven-foot-tall giant abomination of pieced-together parts lying on the table. She wraps the head carefully, and brings the grisly remains to Pava, standing vigil over his partly-enchanted single arm and torso, which thrashes and grabs at the air in what looks like pain. It looks like Abella's area, which she cannot help with. Instead she accompanies Audria back to the otyugh's lair and stands silently by as backup in case the conversation goes very poorly.
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Audria swallows the bile that comes rising up at Dafni's comment.
"I'll keep that in mind," she says trying to keep her tone light. "I'll bring you as many fishing nets as I can find the next time I come."
She grabs Gaekhen's lower half and brings it to where the rest of his remains are being gathered. She looks pale and shaken, and those that keep an eye on Talanaliel see her watching Audria with increasing worry.
Abella looks over Gaekhan to assess the damage.
She erupts into cackling laughter. ”Oh my gods, this is such amateur work! I was hoping for something clever in its insanity, but this is just fumbling.” She pulls out the healing wand and waves it over.
”There, should be all fixed now. A little thalergy.”
She puts the wand away and rubs her hands. ”Now, the real excitement. Command undead scrolls, wand of ghoul touch, and robe of bones…not really my usual focus, but I can fix that. “
Nips at Heels glares at Abella's levity, but lets it pass; the result is what matters.
"Thank you duckling," they take the rest of Gaekhen's body and start wrapping it up in oilcloth, "I'll make him safe."
"He-- He was one of the dancers at that performance we went to, wasn't he," Audria asks as she gets a good look at Gaekhen's face and recognizes him. Anger, frustration, regret, and more than a little doubt play across her face. Perhaps its for the best she missed Abella's giddiness over the spoils from the necromancer.
"I'll take the people we rescued to the cathedral," she says after a moment. "No sense in making them wait here."
If they permit it, Elric helps Pava wrap up the bodyparts, treating the dismembered shoanti with reverence as he works in silence. Dispite his relatively young age, he has helped prepare more fallen comrades for their journey towards Pharasma’s Spire than he cares to recall.
As Audria begins to gather the freed prisoners for departure, he says ”Wait a monent for us to finish up. Then we will all go together. There could be more foul things or mad derro lurking nearby.”
Shane wishes he had spare water, but he can at least use his cantrips to clean the prisoners up a bit, make them feel better.
"He-- He was one of the dancers at that performance we went to, wasn't he," Audria asks as she gets a good look at Gaekhen's face and recognizes him. Anger, frustration, regret, and more than a little doubt play across her face.
Shrike turns away, her head and shoulders uncharacteristically bowed: as though she is tired, or praying.
"Wait a moment for us to finish up. Then we will all go together. There could be more foul things or mad derro lurking nearby."
"Together," Shrike agrees. While Audria gets everyone ready to travel, she takes up the rucksack Shane had declared to be magical and does a final walkthrough, tossing anything important or useful into it that had not already been picked up by someone else, including any books Shane or Abella had pulled out from the shelves in the library as important. In a small point of brightness in an otherwise grim afternoon, the haversack indeed does not seem to change in volume or weight no matter what she puts inside, just like the bag of a magical nurse from a children's story.
On the way out, she wrests the previously-reanimated owlbear's skull free from its bones and takes it with her in another sheet tied off in a bundle, as a proof of what they have done that is not too heavy or too plague-ridden to carry.
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Pava stiffens automatically, then slides slightly over to give Elric room as they reply bitterly to Audria. "That was him, up there with others' tattoos daubed on his skin, dancing to tell a tempting, beautiful lie."
That's right, Merula would know him.
Pava's comment about the performance cuts Audria to her very soul. She'd taken an oath when she'd become more than just an orphan helping at the Sanctuary and into an acolyte in her own right, one that she'd felt called to at the time, but...
Had she been?
The old doubts about her ability and if this was all a mistake come back like dark clouds ahead of a gale. Had she been chosen, truly? Worse, had she been, then proven herself unworthy of the blessing she'd been given. She can't bring herself to meet anyone's gaze, especially Dal's and Pava's.
When will you stop pretending, Halvara's voice asks her in her head. You are nothing, little rat. Just one more urchin to die forgotten on the streets. Did your goddess ever really choose you? A weak, scrawny, little thing that's only ever good at causing trouble?
As she and the others walk towards the cathedral dedicated to Pharasma, Audria keeps quiet while Talanaliel rides on Elric's shoulder. Anyone paying attention to the little bird can't help but notice the worried glances she keeps giving Audria.
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With all of Gaekhen's body parts recovered and six former captives rescued, the group retraces their steps out of the Dead Warrens and into the Grey.
Shrike walks beside the gaunt half-elven woman missing both her hands at the wrists. Eventually she speaks without looking at the woman, her croak as gentle as it ever is. "We will see you restored. And we will end him."
Ivy gives her a sidelong glance, studying her. "First things first. Thank you for getting me out of there, I'm sure in a few more days or weeks they would have cut off more parts, or maybe just killed me in some experiment." She has tucked her stumps into her armpits again, but she often turns her face to the sky and breathes in deep. "I don't know who paid you to come in there, but I'm grateful you did. If you want to do more, I ain't stopping you, gods know I have no other alternatives and no one to turn to for help."
Their arrival causes quite a commotion at the Grand Cathedral of Pharasma, with acolytes taking charge of those rescued. Dal goes with them, his eyes fixed on the unconscious youth. "Thank you, my friends, for rescuing us. I'll stick around here for a bit, see what I can do to help. Make sure the kid is alright." He seems unwilling to meet their eyes, perhaps embarrassed or ashamed.
A senior priest is summoned to hear the account of what was found in the catacombs, looking troubled at the extent of Rolth's operation. "We get necromancers all the time, which is to be expected given the abundance of... materials. But this one seems dangerous indeed, not only because he sounds powerful by what you describe, but also because he has been consorting with derros and other creatures." The senior priest beckons a few acolytes and begins to direct them to tasks. "We will send the temple guards to seal all entrances into the complex you found. I have no doubt that the necromancer will try to set up shop elsewhere, so we will be vigilant." She inclines her head to the party. "For what you have done so far, the Fateful Church is grateful. We put our services at your disposal today, and we will care for the ones you have rescued, so please rest easy."
Once they are on their way to the Cathedral, Shane relaxes some what. If they pass a public well, he gets drinks for each of the former prisoners and makes sure they don't drink too much.
Apparently it still bothers him that they didn't have any on them at all, and that he didn't think to bring some.
Seeing at least one of the freed folk already has Shrike in private conversation, he respects that and makes inquiries of the others, learning their names, and introducing himself even as he helps them along though he doesn't share his life story or anything so tedious...
or so dangerous given his enemies.
He glances over and sees Talanaliel and the worried glances she gives Audria. When he can he approaches her and whispers, "Audria, I can't read minds, at least not currently so I'm not sure what bothers you... but if it's some self recrimination on your part...I'm not completely pleased with my own performance in there, I made mistakes. But these six people are free because of us. Don't let perfection be the enemy of good. Don't let guilt over those lost destroy the joy in finding others. Alright?"
Their arrival causes quite a commotion at the Grand Cathedral of Pharasma, with acolytes taking charge of those rescued. Dal goes with them, his eyes fixed on the unconscious youth. "Thank you, my friends, for rescuing us. I'll stick around here for a bit, see what I can do to help. Make sure the kid is alright." He seems unwilling to meet their eyes, perhaps embarrassed or ashamed.
"Safer days," He tells the now safe ex prisoners. Particular any that didn't seem too offended by interacting with a tiefling.
A senior priest is summoned to hear the account of what was found in the catacombs, looking troubled at the extent of Rolth's operation. "We get necromancers all the time, which is to be expected given the abundance of... materials. But this one seems dangerous indeed, not only because he sounds powerful by what you describe, but also because he has been consorting with derros and other creatures." The senior priest beckons a few acolytes and begins to direct them to tasks. "We will send the temple guards to seal all entrances into the complex you found. I have no doubt that the necromancer will try to set up shop elsewhere, so we will be vigilant." She inclines her head to the party. "For what you have done so far, the Fateful Church is grateful. We put our services at your disposal today, and we will care for the ones you have rescued, so please rest easy."
Shane relates his view of the account, perhaps a bit pedantically, over what occurred and what was found, and... "... the details on diseases was extensive. I don't trust that. Anymore than I trust this 'master'the necromancer spoke of."
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Audria nods, though it's clearly more. to pacify Shane than anything else.
"I'll keep that in mind," she says.
Liar, Halvara's voice snorts in her head.
"I just wish they hadn't suffered so much, or that I could have done something to keep Gaekhen from being killed, or..." She clamps her mouth shut on the words that would have revealed far more than she wanted to about her current struggles.
Or that you had actually been chosen by your worthless goddess. Is that it? Halvara's smug smile comes to mind, the same damned smile that she'd worn when she threw Audria out into the streets.
"S-sorry, I'm fine," the young paladin lies.
Noticing Dal's look, Audria steps up to him and gives him a hug.
"I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner. We should have known something was wrong when you didn't show up for our meeting at the Copper Beaters'."
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"I just wish they hadn't suffered so much, or that I could have done something to keep Gaekhen from being killed, or..." She clamps her mouth shut on the words that would have revealed far more than she wanted to about her current struggles."
"S-sorry, I'm fine," the young paladin lies.
She's lying. Either to me, or to herself.
He tilts his horned head, then gently says "If you could have done more than you did, then Pava would have already beaten you to it. They are very much involved in this. Perhaps a Shoanti thing, perhaps a decent person thing. You are the latter as well. Otherwise not being able to save everyone wouldn't eat at you so. I know enough about religion to know you're doing Shelyn's work. You preserved what Beauty you could, as best you could, and you took down the one who would destroy beauty and love, so you could get folks to a less ugly future. Obfuscate to me if you like, but if you're beating yourself up about things you had no control over while diminishing your good works? Then you're lying to yourself most harmfully. I'm not sure I ever thanked you for welcoming me when I joined this group.. so.. thank you. IT was a much uglier world for me full of naught but gloom and distrust, until you reached out as you did. All of you."
"But I didn't," she says, her voice breaking for a moment. "I called on the blessing I thought Shelyn had given to me, and I didn't even hit him."
Her hand tightens around the halberd she carries.
"I-is she angry with me? Have I failed her. I-- I don't know what it means? Maybe I'm not good enough."
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Shane shakes his head, "I don't claim to speak for someone else's goddes, but I took classes in logic and so forth and I can bring up counterpoints to your line of thinking. For example, I trained since I was a boy in matters arcane at what some consider the best magical school in the world. I got good. I had to, to survive. Yet my magic was almost completely ineffective against our necromancer foe. I summoned an air elemental that was ineffective due to protections our foe had. I missed with spells when I aimed at him. I don't claim to be super accurate, but between summoning, direct attacks, and attempts to blind you'd have thought I've done more. I didn't. By your logic, that means my years of education were wasted, that I did not deserve the discounted Tuition I got for exemplary aptitude from my Hall of Lies training... that's the Illusion building, obviously... and maybe I'm even a moron. Obviously I am not a moron. Obviously my education was not a waste. And, in the same vein, neither if your faith or your training. Shelyn has empowered you and entrusted you and still provides you with it. If you cannot find faith in yourself, then trust in HER judgement. Either she thinks you're quite suited, or she is sure you WILL be. Trust her so you can trust yourself." He rubs at his brow, "There was a book I read once, in it, the philosopher Jonluc P. Karhd said 'It is possible to commit no mistakes and still lose. That is not a weakness; that is life.', and I believe it. I've seen too many talented young wizards face unfair odds and lose, or even die despite the fact they did everything right. Sometimes , due to a combination of bad luck and a competent foe, one can FEEL incompetent, but that feeling is not the truth. It's an insidious illusion that can hold you back more than any phantasm I can conjure."
He reaches out to pat her shoulder, "Jessica L'Morie, our mutual acquaintance, once told me positive thoughts and views were better than negative ones because, and I quote 'if you can't get out of your own head, try to make the decor FABULOUS'" a smile at the memory for a moment then... "I don't know if her or Master Karhd's saying helps more, but I hope one does. I won't diminish your doubts, I'm just saying.. don't let your doubts diminish you.""
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Nips at Heels is clearly weighed down by Gaekhen's body as they leave, but is not so submerged that they don't reach out to Ivy. "I don't know your situation, but I won't let that freak take more than he already has. I can't go promising the sun and sky, but I'm out on Old Korvosa. There's a place, just off the Reefclaw Run fountain, follow the smell of fish and you'll be there in a drip. Red paint, shingle like this-" they gesture to the tattoos running down their biceps "-beds, food, people who know how to find whatever else. If I'm not there, friends will be. Just ask for Pava."\
***
Pava looks visibly uncomfortable in the cathedral, ducking their head not to stand quite so tall as they address their companions. "So... This meant something to me. I'd've gone in just myself, and sure as sunshine I'd've been just another pile of parts. We brought Gaekhen back, but you all also saved me, and I see that. Oh, Duckling, I was specially shirty with you. Apologies. That was just claws and nips and nothing you deserved."
They stand straighter, looking slightly less like there's a dagger sticking out of their side.
"Right. Well. If I'm going to get completely blotto, and still stagger in to see Thousand Bones, I'll have to get started soon. Anyone's welcome.
"Oh, but Murder Bird? I need a word."
"I..." Audira finds the words freezing in her throat. How can she make Shane understand what she was going through. She'd called upon a gift from her goddess meant to smite foes such as that necromancer they had faced, and she'd failed to even scratch him. If there was ever a sign of divine disapproval, wouldn't that be it?
But what if Shane was right?
"How can I know for sure if it was lack of skill or Shelyn telling me something," she asks, expecting that Shane won't have an answer for her.
Audria blinks and looks utterly shocked at Pava's apology. She'd been certain that the Shoanti tough hated her.
"N-no need to apologize to me," the paladin mutters as she looks down at her boots, shame-faced at how utterly wrong she'd misread Pava's attitude towards her.
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"How can I know for sure if it was lack of skill or Shelyn telling me something," she asks, expecting that Shane won't have an answer for her.
He ponders this, then admits, "I'm don't know. But I would suggest that one advantage to being part of even a semi organized religion is you have wise priests to turn to, fellow believers for support, and a haven to pray at. What I do know is that you are making this a 'this or that' situation, when it need not be limited. What if Shelyn is telling you something, but it isn't a punishment or reprimand? What if the same spell that kept the elemental off of him blocked holy energy? Maybe there are factors beyond your skill or worthiness; his spells prepared, his nimbleness." He considers " "It is ONE battle. That's not enough data for even a first year student's thesis. That much I can assure you of. You said you can't know for sure, then you have to take into account it's too soon to be sure it's your fault or failing either."
At the Grand Cathedral
Pava looks visibly uncomfortable in the cathedral, ducking their head not to stand quite so tall as they address their companions. "So... This meant something to me. I'd've gone in just myself, and sure as sunshine I'd've been just another pile of parts. We brought Gaekhen back, but you all also saved me, and I see that. Oh, Duckling, I was specially shirty with you. Apologies. That was just claws and nips and nothing you deserved."They stand straighter, looking slightly less like there's a dagger sticking out of their side.
"Right. Well. If I'm going to get completely blotto, and still stagger in to see Thousand Bones, I'll have to get started soon. Anyone's welcome.
"Oh, but Murder Bird? I need a word."
"I don't know Shoanti custom or culture, but what was done to Gaekhen was an abomination. You are right to be furious at this whole event, and if some of that fury should spill over a bit, well, that's very human." An admission "Just go easy on us when its someone else's turn to be less than sunny in disposition. I'm quite sure we shall take turns." A weak smile.
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After Pava and Elric get Gaekhen's dismembered body wrapped in the oilcloth, Elric retrives the rope he used to haul the prisoners out of the pit. Using a series of intricate sailor's knots, he binds the the body securely, leaving handholds for several people to carry the bundle at once.
He takes up position opposite Pava and gives them a quiet nod, indicating that he is ready to lift and carry the dead boy to the Grand Cathedral.
Pava looks visibly uncomfortable in the cathedral, ducking their head not to stand quite so tall as they address their companions. "So... This meant something to me. I'd've gone in just myself, and sure as sunshine I'd've been just another pile of parts. We brought Gaekhen back, but you all also saved me, and I see that. Oh, Duckling, I was specially shirty with you. Apologies. That was just claws and nips and nothing you deserved."
They stand straighter, looking slightly less like there's a dagger sticking out of their side.
"Right. Well. If I'm going to get completely blotto, and still stagger in to see Thousand Bones, I'll have to get started soon. Anyone's welcome."
Elric stands straight as well, the attentive posture second nature to the trained marine. He listens to Pava with a look of respect and approval.
"I'm glad we were able to recover Gaekhen, free the captives and put an end to these hidious experiments, at least for a while. None of us could have done that alone. I would be honored to escort you to deliver the body to Thousand Bones."
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With all of Gaekhen's body parts recovered and six former captives rescued, the group retraces their steps out of the Dead Warrens and into the Grey.
Ivy gives her a sidelong glance, studying her. "First things first. Thank you for getting me out of there, I'm sure in a few more days or weeks they would have cut off more parts, or maybe just killed me in some experiment." She has tucked her stumps into her armpits again, but she often turns her face to the sky and breathes in deep. "I don't know who paid you to come in there, but I'm grateful you did. If you want to do more, I ain't stopping you, gods know I have no other alternatives and no one to turn to for help."
"No one paid us. Gratitude's due more to the— several gods and spirits." Shrike catches herself before saying the Everbloom. Ivy is a Milanite, but the red rose rising from a bloody street inked on her inner arm is currently covered by her ragged-edged sleeve and hidden in her crossed-arm posture. However, Audria wears her holy symbol openly, and Shrike had invoked the Hunter already. Lady Luck had certainly smiled on them today, or else the Lady of Graves had turned her cold gaze on the defiler of her holy ground. And, more directly— "Thousand Bones is a shaman. His spirits showed him where his grandson's body was being kept. He and Pava asked us to get him back. We didn't know there were living prisoners too."
After a few more moments she speaks again quietly, this time in Elven.
Their arrival causes quite a commotion at the Grand Cathedral of Pharasma, with acolytes taking charge of those rescued. Dal goes with them, his eyes fixed on the unconscious youth. "Thank you, my friends, for rescuing us. I'll stick around here for a bit, see what I can do to help. Make sure the kid is alright." He seems unwilling to meet their eyes, perhaps embarrassed or ashamed.
"Dal." Shrike isn't sure how to express all she wants to know before he goes. He should know he doesn't need to thank them, but he's treating them like awkward strangers. He hasn't said who the boy is. Or where his familiar went. Or when and where he was captured. Eventually she simply says, "What happened?"
A senior priest is summoned to hear the account of what was found in the catacombs, looking troubled at the extent of Rolth's operation. "We get necromancers all the time, which is to be expected given the abundance of... materials. But this one seems dangerous indeed, not only because he sounds powerful by what you describe, but also because he has been consorting with derros and other creatures." The senior priest beckons a few acolytes and begins to direct them to tasks. "We will send the temple guards to seal all entrances into the complex you found. I have no doubt that the necromancer will try to set up shop elsewhere, so we will be vigilant."
"Still two alive in there. An unconscious derro and an otyugh. Otyugh's not hostile. If you bring it old fishing nets."
She inclines her head to the party. "For what you have done so far, the Fateful Church is grateful. We put our services at your disposal today, and we will care for the ones you have rescued, so please rest easy."
"Thanks. Some are worse off than others. She needs the high priest," Shrike croaks, gesturing at Ivy. She's guessing, but the church of Pharasma is the richest and most powerful in the city, save perhaps Abadar's. If anyone in Korvosa can restore lost limbs, it would be the Gray Lady's chief cleric. "Can we see her."
Elric stands straight as well, the attentive posture second nature to the trained marine. He listens to Pava with a look of respect and approval. "I'm glad we were able to recover Gaekhen, free the captives and put an end to these hideous experiments, at least for a while. None of us could have done that alone. I would be honored to escort you to deliver the body to Thousand Bones."
Shrike nods at this much more eloquent declaration than she could have managed, and croaks out, "Likewise."
"Oh, but Murder Bird? I need a word."
The mask of the butcherbird turns deliberately to regard Pava. But then Shrike nods slowly, as much in acknowledgement of a whole speech that was clearly hard to deliver as in assent, and follows.
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Dal's mouth twists at Shrike's question. "I was careless. Perhaps I've gotten too used to you" he gestures broadly at the group, "having my back. When Timmeon went missing, I went looking for him. Found the entrance to the catacombs, was scouting out the place, and I got ambushed. They stuck me with some poison and I passed out." He swallows with difficulty, looking at Shrike with with a gaze that is both determined and full of barely contained fear. "I don't know where Pockets is. So that is my priority once Timmeon is taken care of. I don't know what's wrong with him, he's not physically hurt but he just won't wake up." He breaks the gaze and his eyes wander over the acolytes and priests busy around them. "I hope they can figure it out."
"Thank the gods and the spirits, then." She moves as if to touch her tattoo, then stops. Her shoulders heave in a silent sob and she hunches over he re-crossed arms. When Shrike speaks to her in Elven, Ivy's head whips around to stare at the woman in the bird mask. After a moment, her gaze returns to looking straight ahead as she mouths the unfamiliar word with her brow furrowed.
Her Elven is stilted and spoken with an accent, as by someone who has learned it as a second language and later in life.
As Pava makes their offer, the half-elf woman turns her head away. Pava can see her throat working, and the rapid blinks - she's trying not to cry. After a few moments, she clears her throat. "Thank you. That sounds lovely." She turns back, red-rimmed eyes above a faint smile. "Your tattoos are beautiful."
The senior priestess nods at the additional information from Shrike. "The otyugh cannot be allowed to remain there, but perhaps we can reach an agreement. As for your friend, I will inform Bishop d'Bear. Today or tomorrow, her lost limbs will be restored." Bishop Keppira d"Bear is indeed a powerful cleric, and Ivy's only hope of getting her hands back - unless somehow they manage to raise the huge sum that would be required to pay the Bank of Abadar for the same service, as Archbanker Tuttle is the only cleric in the city to match the bishop's power.
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Shane does ask the priestess in quiet tones, "The former prisoners should be your fine church's priority, but assuming my small part in this pleases you, would it be too much to ask to be considered for a discount on a miracle in the future? I'm considering speak with dead, to solve a mystery of a personal matter." Now should I ask it be used on mother, or the person she was accused of murdering? That's the question. Assuming I can arrange it.
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”Oh it was no trouble at all for me. I’m always happy to smack down a few hack necromancers.” She leans in and switches languages.
She grins and winks, extremely pleased with herself.
Abella raises her chin proudly. ”I was certainly not going to let some hacks chop you up in some insane experiment. I mean, any halfwit with a pale complexion and a bone wand knows that Alyoisius Blackcandle already proved methodically, categorically, and definitively that dismemberment of a living subject over time offers no additional benefit over harvesting all at once from the recently deceased and using preservation methods. It’s amateurish, wasteful and completely disrespectful of the art. I am not given to kidnapping unwilling subjects, but if I was, it would at least be something valuable, such as definitively proving the Deathrattle Hypothesis is poppycock.”
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Pava reaches up with a handkerchief and dabs Ivy's eyes. "You're too kind, love; I think we all know I'm far from the loveliest one here. Now, you just stay here till the Grays are finished patching you up. I'll see you on the island."
They're still holding it mostly together enough to match Abella's flirting with their own frank look of appraisal. "Cuidakuy, Abella, noviaymi kunan tuta tardeta llamkachkan. Hinaspapas payqa manan envidioso tipochu."
"Except you knew him, right? In spite of not saying a burning word about it."
They shrug as if it's of no consequence. "Well here's what I need: I need you to shed a tear, or even just spill some of that flask for the earth that holds his spirits. Even cobbles can count for a city boy."
They smile, but the forced cheer is scraped thin over everything else churning behind their smile. Or else? I'm gonna have to break your spear, your mask, or your nose.
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Dal's mouth twists at Shrike's question. "I was careless. Perhaps I've gotten too used to you" he gestures broadly at the group, "having my back. When Timmeon went missing, I went looking for him. Found the entrance to the catacombs, was scouting out the place, and I got ambushed. They stuck me with some poison and I passed out." He swallows with difficulty, looking at Shrike with with a gaze that is both determined and full of barely contained fear. "I don't know where Pockets is. So that is my priority once Timmeon is taken care of. I don't know what's wrong with him, he's not physically hurt but he just won't wake up." He breaks the gaze and his eyes wander over the acolytes and priests busy around them. "I hope they can figure it out."
Shrike nods soberly, accepting what is not said. Dal will not be coming with them, but staying here with this boy he feels responsible for. "Then we'll look too." She hesitates, then clasps Dal's shoulder briefly. "May your aim be true."
As a way to not say goodbye, it sounds more natural in Elven, of course. And she has no idea how to find one cat in a city of tens of thousands. But if Dal thinks Pockets is still alive, he's probably right. Witches and their cats have that kind of special connection.
Her Elven is stilted and spoken with an accent, as by someone who has learned it as a second language and later in life.
Shrike hadn't expected or meant to make her uncomfortable, though she realizes too late that she never has heard her speak Elven before. Ivy is always so fluid and self-confident when switching dialects or accents in Taldane. But she knows from bitter experience that it would be much worse to switch back to the common human tongue now, as if she doubts her friend's understanding.
The senior priestess nods at the additional information from Shrike. "The otyugh cannot be allowed to remain there, but perhaps we can reach an agreement. As for your friend, I will inform Bishop d'Bear. Today or tomorrow, her lost limbs will be restored."
A kind of tension visibly leaves Shrike's shoulders and the croak softens into something merely hoarse. "Our thanks to you, to her, and to the Lady of Mysteries." She inclines her head respectfully, relieved to feel no twinge in the newly disinfected and mended shoulder. It seems like a good time to beat a hasty retreat before the priestess changes her mind, so she does so.
Though not before slipping a few coins into the pockets of the human woman Tiona, halfling man Wayllon, dwarf woman K'lyda, and Ivy herself, in case being kidnapped had robbed them of their previous jobs, shelter or other necessities too. She knows Dal has money still, and it seems Timmeon is in his care, so she will trust that.
Abella raises her chin proudly. "I was certainly not going to let some hacks chop you up in some insane experiment. I mean, any halfwit with a pale complexion and a bone wand knows that Alyoisius Blackcandle already proved methodically, categorically, and definitively that dismemberment of a living subject over time offers no additional benefit over harvesting all at once from the recently deceased and using preservation methods. It’s amateurish, wasteful and completely disrespectful of the art. I am not given to kidnapping unwilling subjects, but if I was, it would at least be something valuable, such as definitively proving the Deathrattle Hypothesis is poppycock."
"Abella." Shrike is back to sounding flat and grim — and in this case, almost tired. "Not the time."
"Right. Here." They hand over a small flask, scratched and dinged. "Maybe you got those costumes from a different theatre; maybe there's some other reason that Duckling was so keen on watching H&B when there was mischief to be planned, but I've played longer odds. Now I don't give a lonesome toss about who or what's behind that mask.
"Except you knew him, right? In spite of not saying a burning word about it."They shrug as if it's of no consequence. "Well here's what I need: I need you to shed a tear, or even just spill some of that flask for the earth that holds his spirits. Even cobbles can count for a city boy."
They smile, but the forced cheer is scraped thin over everything else churning behind their smile.
Shrike goes very still, utterly ignoring the extended flask. There is a silence.
"I make allowance for your grief." Shrike has never spoken in this white-hot hiss in Pava's hearing. Rage seems to smoke off her tone. "I do not owe you mine."