Stowing her sword, Fallende pulls a curved knife from her belt and quickly frees the injured woman from the wet bonds restraining her. Lowering the limp figure gently to the wet ground, she looks up towards the cloud of dark smoke that conceals the Lady Charlotte.
"Mon Ange," she calls out. "She is in need of your aid."
Elara follows behind Charlotte as they hurry to reach the unconscious woman by the post. Along the way, she retrieves various vials and salves from her belongings, preparing for the task ahead. Upon arrival, she carefully lays out the tools and supplies, providing a quick summary of the woman's condition to Charlotte. With a readiness to assist, she asks, "What do you need?"
"Time" the other woman answers with regret in her voice. The results of her condition hampering her ability to give aid. Now that the emotions that come with battle are over, Charlotte realizes her eagerness has endangered another. With a heaviness she continues "time which we do not have, you take lead, please Elara, I will assist verbally to your descriptions"
With none of the healing skills that the others hold, Fallende resigns herself to checking the area for anything of note and shoving the cooling bodies into the dark water.
"Right then." she says, stepping in when Isabel offers to take over.
Elara expresses her gratitude to Isabel and then takes the lead in attending to the injured woman if help is still required after Isabel's magic. She begins to administer aid, following her healing procedures as needed to help the unconscious woman.
Some of the tension escapes Charlotte's obscured form. She has felt Bel's healing touch, the surge of soothing entering. While she didn't completely know the source of her friend's powers, she had Seen enough.
One friend descending into the hells, another elevating into the heavens.
Charlotte was soothed Bel was the one being saved. Though she is aware Bel would not agree. She'd probably say that the hellfire, the urges, and the TAIL did not mean Charlotte was damned. Any more than the stunning beauty, the healing hands, and the HALO meant Bel was being saved.
But still, Charlotte smiled warmly in her haze.
The scarred woman groans as she regains consciousness. "Ugh. Th-thank you," she murmurs. "My name is Helanda Mertien. Please, get me out of this gods-forsaken place!"
"Abandoned" Charlotte says in her plain way. Her affliction is getting under control, though she still stands away from the others.
Elara says, "We're here to help, Helanda. Can you tell us what happened and how you ended up in this situation? We'll do our best to get you out of here."
"I'm a member of the Gray Maidens," Helanda says. "I fought alongside Commander Oriana when the rebel mobs rose up against the rightful Queen of Korvosa, Ileosa Arabasti. We retreated and fled the city to avoid the fate of most of our fellow soldiers, but we never forgot our allegiance. In the years since the pretender took the throne, Oriana devoted herself to retaking Korvosa from its treacherous populace by any means. This goal has brought us here to the Lady’s Light to find treasure and magic to aid in reclaiming the Crimson Throne.
"Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. We made our way down into the dungeons, avoiding most of the guardians by displaying the Thassilonian symbol of lust. Two of our number fell to a glass golem, but the rest of us made it through. But shortly after that, we were attacked by a beautiful woman who looked and sounded and certainly acted like Runelord Sorshen reborn. At first, we all rejoiced—getting a reborn runelord on our side would guarantee retaking the Korvosan throne, after all! Sorshen teleported us one at a time into a complex of rooms where we have been living. Oriana, her second-in-command Quenelle, and some others were taken away to serve Sorshen, although I now suspect most of those Gray Maidens ended up in the sea hag’s clutches.
"I myself ended up here after I'd grown suspicious of 'Sorshen' and attempted to lead several other Gray Maidens in something of a revolt to contact Oriana and try to find out what was really going on. My fellow Maidens sold me out, and 'Sorshen' herself arrived to punish me by leading me into this cave, stripping me of my gear, and leaving me in the vile and violent clutches of that horrible sea witch. I now suspect more than ever that 'Sorshen' is not the real Sorshen, but some sort of deceiver—perhaps a succubus. I do think, though, that this deception isn’t entirely at 'Sorshen’s' choice, but that she actually believes she’s the runelord of lust. I'd hope to lead my fellow Maidens to find evidence of the woman's true identity so that I could confront her with it, but you can see what trusting my so-called friends got me."
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Ugh. Gray Maiden. What brutes. Well, not everyone is perfect, I suppose. Still, she could be useful to us.
Elara listens carefully to Helanda's account, her mind working through the information. While she refrains from expressing her thoughts about the Gray Maidens and their allegiance to a questionable queen, she does respond empathetically.
"Thank you for sharing your story, Helanda." Elara says with sincerity. "It's clear you've been through a harrowing experience, and your insights about the situation are valuable. It seems our goals are aligned and we'll do our best to help you and uncover the truth about this false Sorshen. Your knowledge about this perilous place could prove crucial as we proceed."
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Isabel listens closely, but she notices Charlotte edging away again and steps over to grab her friend's hand, regardless of the instinctive flinch that such an action always provokes. It's not as though the heat hurts and she tugs Lottie back into the group and the conversation as Elara finishes.
"They took your gear?" She asks, planning ahead. "Did you see where they put it? As she said we'd like to have you with us, we have the same goals - but if you want to leave I understand."
She gives Lottie's hand a squeeze, knowing that not everyone can be as brave as her best friend.
"These Gray Maidens ... Ils n'ont aucun honneur," Fallende declares, her arms crossed. "They lack honor."
After looking the woman up and down, the elf unhooks the well-used mace from her belt. She holds it up, extending the handle towards the shaken woman. "You shouldn't go unarmed." Her eyes narrow. "However, if you choose to betray us, that weapon will not fare well against my blade."
Charlotte startled a little at Bel's touch. The devil's heat reaching out to the golden warmth of the heavens. Not unpleasant, not even close to unpleasant, but still... startling every time.
She doesn't resist being pulled back in as her curse subsides, and even gives her friend a soft smile.
"Are you capable of fighting?" the doctor asks the former prisoner, then stops to amend "No physically. I mean fighting your former companions, if it comes to that?"
"I have no qualms about fighting against those that betrayed me," Helanda says darkly. She directs you to an adjacent chamber where the hag stashed her gear. As she begins to don her plate armor, you discover more treasures that the hag has stashed: two moderate healing potions, a sack of gemstones worth a total of 90 gp, as well as a javelin of lightning.
Once Helanda is ready, she directs you to the beach you landed on previously and points out the secret door there. "This leads to the chambers where the other Gray Maidens dwell. Are you ready to confront them?"
As Helanda readies herself, Elara's curiosity gets the better of her. She watches her don her armor and begins a line of inquiry of the scarred warrior, "If you don't mind me asking, was the Gray Maiden initiation and training as dreadful as the rumors suggest? We rarely get a glimpse beneath the armored facade. Your scars seem to tell their own story, but I thought I'd seize this moment to inquire for myself."
"Now is not the time, Elara," Fallende interrupts. "Save your inquiries for après la bataille." The elf then turns her attention to Helanda and gives a curt nod.
With a sense of professionalism and respect for Fallende's leadership, Elara the inquisitive, refrains from pushing the matter further and redirects her focus to the task at hand. She looks back to the elf and nods, uttering a single-word response "Compris.". She takes up her bow and signals her readiness to move forward.
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It's unclear whether Fallende's sharp elven hearing picked up Isabel's muttering, but she gives the woman a quick glance.
Was that a smile on the elf's elegant features?
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Bel catches the glance and she, being a woman of poise and maturity, sticks her tongue out at the elf.
One day... one day... She promises herself, determined to see the haughty elf less haughty. Just once.
"You don't have to do exactly what she says." She speaks up, focusing on Elara. "Do it if you agree, not because she says so."
Fallende simply rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to the secret door between them and battle, taking a firm grip on her sword.
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Elara couldn't help but notice the exchange between Isabel, Fallende, and herself. It was a subtle reminder that she barely understood the dynamics within the group.
With a nod of gratitude to Bel, Elara responded, "Thank you, Isabel. I feel like I am trying to convince you all that I will not stab you in the back and take your hard-earned treasures, so I am less inclined to speak out of turn. If Fallende tells me to shut up, I'm going to shut up."
She lowered her voice and leaned into Isabel "I assumed she was the leader of our group and was doing as instructed. I'm not always the best judge of social situations."
And now that she is talking, she won't shut up. She feels the need to clarify further "You see, my mind never stops churning, and I'm constantly fighting barrages of questions and thoughts, and it's entirely possible I may not understand the appropriate time to open my mouth versus keep it shut."
She motions wildly with her hands as she talks "Your advice means a lot to me. I hoped to bring knowledge, analytical thinking and quick hands to assist you and I still feel like I need to prove myself yet. I'll be sure to express my thoughts when the time is right."
She nods, satisfied.
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Charlotte watches the entire exchange without comment. Though there is one moment, starting with a smile and ending with a tongue, that made the dark eyes of the doctor narrow just slightly. Then they close, mentally doing her best to crush the green worm of jealousy that wiggled in her chest.
"You do no have to prove anything to us. We are the same rank in our organization, tasked with the same assignment." Charlotte explains with plain logic, once she has mastered her emotions.
"Storytime later," Helanda agrees.
The secret door opens into a large cave. The cave’s walls are rough-hewn and embers of a large fire burn dimly, with an iron pot and other cooking implements sitting beside it. A narrow natural chimney extends through the roof twenty feet overhead. On the east wall stands a huge red panel covered with images, while to the west lean several crudely made fishing poles and nets.
All of the images on the door’s panels depict Sorshen in dalliances with attractive humanoids. Touching the central panel causes the door to open. A long, wooden table of ancient design sits in this room, surrounded by uncomfortable-looking wooden chairs. Crates and chests are scattered against the walls, and several doors line the north and south walls between the crates. Huge red panels of painted murals stand to the east and west.
Six Gray Maidens in full panoply save their helmets sit at the table, gambling. Once they notice you, though, they quickly rise up and draw their swords. "You are in league with a traitor! Surrender at once!"
"You are the traitors, not me!" Helanda shouts back, brandishing her own blade!
Elara turned her attention to Charlotte, her curiosity piqued by the doctor's straightforward statement. It was clear that Charlotte had observed the dynamics within the group and was attempting to address them with logic and reason.
Well, that's how I would handle it, at least, so it makes sense to me that a professional like Charlotte would do so as well.
"I appreciate your candor, Charlotte," Elara replied, her voice reflecting a genuine desire to understand. "I hold transparent communication in high regard. Therefore, when you assert that we share the same rank and possess identical assignments, are you implying this in the context of parity and cooperative synergy within our assemblage, or do you refer to our equivalence within the broader context of the Pathfinder Society?"
Elara steps forward, her voice firm and confident. "Ladies, there is no need for further violence. I implore you to reconsider your actions before you fully comprehend the formidable might of the elven warrior Fallende and her steadfast companions from the Pathfinder Society."
She then adds, "Statistically speaking, the odds of your victory in this combat are exceedingly unfavorable, with a probability of success that hovers around a mere eight percent. I strongly advise you to lay down your arms and avoid a confrontation that would undoubtedly result in your defeat."
"If you are offering to surrender, then I accept," Fallende replies with a laugh. "Otherwise, prepare to meet your fate." Her raised blade leaves no misunderstanding in regards to what she considers the expected 'fate'.
The others are handling the 'discussions' well enough, so Charlotte concentrates on keeping an eye out for the inevitable violence. Standing toward the back as is tactically sound (and keeps others from worrying nearly as much)
The Gray Maidens prepare to attack!
"Votre destin est arrivé!" Fallende shouts out as she steps forward, her blade singing in the air.
After a gesture from the doctor, towering whirling flames erupt on either side of the table engulfing two groups of the grey madiens.
As fire eats at their enemies, she gives a quick spell to give Fall a nudge of guidance.
Charlotte and Wesley open the battle by engulfing the room in flames! One of the Gray Maidens falls, while the others are all badly wounded. Elanna takes one down with a critical hit, but Fallende struggles to land a blow.
The four surviving enemies converge on Fallende and attack her! She fends off all but one of their blows.
Elara pivots, changing angles and aims at a Maiden attacking Fallende. She studies the foe for two blinks of an eye and then fires an arrow at the armored warrior, announcing. "The one with the chipped helmet hesitates and has poor reaction times; aim for her first!"
As the Maiden that Elara pointed out tenses up for a just a moment, Fallende takes advantage of everyone's focus on the expected target and turns and slashes the one opposite.
"L'opportunité to surrender is quickly fading!" she says with a laugh, awash in the adrenaline rush of battle.
Wishing to avoid the billowing smoke from the fires of hell, Charlotte stifles the desire to burn, and instead steps behind her friend and her Fall, to bless them with good luck.
The battle is fierce, but it quickly becomes clear that your skill at combat outclasses the Gray Maidens'. Soon enough, they all lie defeated! The crates and chest here contain the Gray Maidens' diminishing food supplies, along with camping gear, rope, tools to repair armor, and other miscellaneous supplies. Some of the crates contain extra armor and weapons, while one chest holds a large sum of gold coins.
The room is a long gallery that is striking and gaudy. The walls are painted a shimmering golden hue, with similarly gilt columns running down the center. Black marble statues of Runelord Sorshen stand to the north and south—an inscription has been carved into each statue’s base. Each statue holds out a hand as if in greeting. Rich tapestries hang on the walls at the center of the gallery, while set at intervals along the tiled floor are three great golden plates, slightly recessed. The ceiling is made of black marble shot through with a sparkling material.
The inscriptions at the base of each statue are identical, and read (in Thassilonian), “By my touch may you enter the shining glory of my inner sanctum.”
"I've never been this far," Helanda says. "I do not know where Commander Oriana might be."
As the last of the Maidens falls, Fallende's predatory gaze sweeps the room seeking more prey. Seeing that the battle has been won, her attention turns to Charlotte, the heat of battle still burning in her eyes. Her delicate lips curl up into a smile and she slams her sword back into its scabbard ignoring hours of training that reinforced the concept of never sheathing a weapon without cleaning it first.
With a few short strides of her long legs, she reaches the tiefling. In another moment she has her pressed up against the golden wall ravishing her lips. In between kisses, Fallende can't help but whisper private declarations of what she'd do to the smaller woman if the others weren't in the room with them.
When she finally pulls away, her smile is still intact as well as the desire in her eyes, but both are slightly subdued.
"You should see to the others in case they are injured, Mon Ange," she says with a nod towards Isabel. "As much as I would enjoy keeping you all myself it is not the time ... yet."
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Amidst the aftermath of the battle and the passionate embrace between Fallende and Charlotte, Elara remains composed. She retrieves a small leather-bound book from her belt pouch and a finely-tipped quill. With practiced precision, she begins jotting down notes about the room's opulent decor, the statues of Runelord Sorshen, and the Thassilonian inscriptions. She takes note of the golden plates on the floor and the sparkling material in the black marble ceiling. In all, she spends twenty minutes taking notes, insisting to her companions that they give her the proper time she needs to document everything.
As her quill dances across the pages, capturing details of their findings and the battle's sequence, Elara's gaze flickers toward Fallende and Charlotte briefly. She raises an eyebrow but quickly averts her eyes, respecting their privacy. And taking notes.
Once her notes are neatly recorded, Elara approaches Helanda with a thoughtful expression. "Helanda, I have a few questions for you," she begins. "Firstly, do you have any insights into the meaning of those inscriptions on the statues of Runelord Sorshen? What is your knowledge of this place? And secondly, do you have any information about the layout of this place, or where Commander Oriana might be located? Any details could be invaluable as we proceed." Her tone is polite and inquisitive, reflecting her scholarly nature.
Oh, what a day it has been! I find myself exploring with Fallende, Charlotte and Isabel as expected. Here is my analysis of each of them so far.
Isabel, the enigmatic spellcaster, exudes an aura of wisdom and restraint. Her magical prowess is undeniable, and her presence a comforting anchor in the turbulent waters of the Abyss. However, beneath her composed exterior, there's a flicker of something more, a curiosity perhaps, that intrigues me. I sense a shared fascination with the arcane, and I look forward to delving deeper into our shared knowledge. I can't help but notice that her charismatic personality is hard to resist, and there's a magnetic pull in her presence.
Charlotte, the doctor with a hidden affliction, carries herself with a pragmatism that resonates with my analytical nature. Her mastery of the healing arts is invaluable, yet her condition adds an air of mystery. Our interactions are straightforward, marked by a mutual respect for our respective expertise. It's a dynamic I appreciate, for clarity in communication is a rare gem in these murky depths. However, there's an unspoken depth to Charlotte's feelings that she seems to be holding back, and I can't help but wonder what it might be.
Fallende, the elven warrior, embodies a potent blend of strength and passion. Her combat prowess is awe-inspiring, and her confidence in battle is contagious. Yet, there's a complexity to her, an allure that transcends mere physicality. Our interactions have been marked by a mixture of respect, fascination, and a hint of something deeper. I find myself drawn to the enigma that is Fallende, eager to unravel the layers beneath her stoic exterior. Her tactical prowe
In the shadowy depths of the underground lake, we encountered undead bats known as skavelings. Their eerie presence sent shivers down my spine, but we prevailed through skill and strategy. The battle showcased Fallende's prowess and Bel's healing touch, a formidable combination indeed. In this subterranean realm, secrets lurk in every shadow, and I am determined to unveil them.
We've had numerous encounters with creatures and mysteries today, perhaps none more than the strange cavern we traversed. As we ventured deeper into the cave, seductive whispers beguiled our senses. The alluring power was palpable, but my training held my heart steady. The source of this enchantment remains a mystery, one that beckons further investigation.
Our journey has introduced us to Helanda Mertien, a Gray Maiden with a harrowing tale of betrayal and deceit. Her revelation about the imposter claiming to be Runelord Sorshen adds another layer to this complex narrative. Fallende bravely gave her a blade which was risky decision, but ended up working out in our favor later on.
Then there was a whirlwind of combat and discovery in the golden gallery of Thassilonian opulence. We faced off against the Gray Maidens—definitely not the tea-party type. They attempted to make a statement with their swords, but statistics weren't in their favor, and we emerged victorious. Fallende led the charge with her blade, Charlotte and Wesley bathed the room in flames. Our coordination was nothing short of remarkable, and we emerged victorious. We're proving to make a remarkable team together.
The room itself was a testament to the decadence of Thassilon, with gilded walls, marble statues, and promises of entry into Sorshen's inner sanctum. A treasure trove of supplies and gold awaited us, a testament to the Gray Maidens' ambitions.
Meanwhile, I couldn't help but glance in the direction of Fallende and Charlotte's impromptu theater of passion. Perhaps battle's aftermath is the ideal time for such displays? (Note to self: Investigate correlations between adrenaline and amorous inclinations.)
But back to scholarly matters! The room itself was a masterclass in ostentation. Golden walls, black marble statues of Runelord Sorshen, inscriptions promising entry to her inner sanctum—classic Thassilonian extravagance.
And now, we stand at the precipice of discovery, seeking Commander Oriana and unraveling the enigma that surrounds "Sorshen" (who I suspect is a succubus impersonator). What delightful twists await in this twisted tale?
Onward, my dear journal, for adventure beckons, and knowledge awaits!
Charlotte turns to the approaching warrior, the fires inside her still yearning to burn all to ash, so retreat never entered her mind. The dark gleam of her eyes challenged back, then her lips were taken, her body pressed against the cold stone that did nothing to diminish her heat. She met kiss for kiss, though in those Fall was clearly the master.
Once somewhat sated Fall released her and Charlotte despite her best attempts was left breathless. Only then did she remember where they were, who they were with. Embarrassment flashed in her eyes, but she kept it in check. One emotion, she managed at least to keep in check.
"A wise suggestion." The doctor agrees with the warrior and sees to wounds... no one else seemed to have.
Helanda shakes her head. "I can't read the language. And as I said, Commander Oriana forbid the rest of us from proceeding this far into the series of rooms. But the false Sorshen would lead my sisters here, and they would never return. Perhaps there is a way to transport ourselves to wherever they went?"
As Charlotte tends to the non-existent wounds and Elara plies Helanda for more information, Fallende surveys the room with derision.
"I should not be surprised that someone with un ego as big as a Runelord would spend such effort to decorate a hall such as this as if it were une toilette," she declares with a gesture towards one of the golden plates recessed into the floor.
"Where does she expect 'her touch' to land? Yes?"
The elf approaches one of the statues and reaches out to carefully touch the extended hand.
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"You have to take the statue's hands." Isabel says, absently answering the question as she avoids looking at Fall and her molesting Lottie's lips. "I'm not sure what the gold plates are about though. Sorshen seems to have been very literal."
"Having fun?" She asks the Doctor on her rounds, smirking as she speaks.
At Bel's teasing, Charlotte manages to betray only a deep reddening of her cheeks. "it is good to remind oneself that they are alive after a near-death experience. One could consider it a type of medicine" it is b*!+*&+$. Charlotte knows it as well as she knows her best friend knows it. The tugging of her lips and the flash in her eyes betray her completely.
She does sigh after that "I don't think she understands these things are typically a private activity. No, she probably understands, just doesn't care."
Fallende continues gazing at the statue in front of her. The only indication that her elvish ears have picked up the whispered words between Isabel and the fiery object of her affection is the slight smile that appears on her lips.
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Isabel notices Fall's ears twitching and the subtle tilt of her head which just so happens to give bring her ears towards their conversation. "No, I'm sure she doesn't." She replies, "If I was the suspicious type I'd say she was claiming you. Maybe you should claim her too. Get her a collar perhaps?"
She's definitely teasing, but who exactly? Her friend? Or the eavesdroppper?
Charlotte does not notice the twitching of lovely ears, since she is on her knees before her friend, attending to a few minor scratches. She is also not an expert on elven sexual preferences, so she seems to consider the suggestion "Do you think she would like that?" she pauses, her eyes looking up from cleaning the scratch to her friend "Not the collar, the claiming" she had no hope of repeating what the warrior had done, pressing her against the wall, trapping her to take her lips almost helplessly, though the torrent of emotion inside her had not made her unwilling at all.
But there might be other means...