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Tandyn readies himself for the door to open. Any moment now... any moment... it could be NOW! no... maybe NOW! no... What did she just say? He looks back at his team and sees that they're also ready... and waiting. He makes sure they can see him and silently moves his mouth in an exaggerated way so they can all tell what he's not saying "Three... Two... One..."
He flings the door wide... and catches a bolt in his chest while taking in their new positions.
He begins to cut a path through the mongrel in front...
...and steps back slightly to let others at the target.
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"Were you born with those or did they grow in of late?"
Dorek grimaces. "I've a-always had them - they d-didn't get c-caught on so many things when I was a c-child, though."
At the intoned Abyssal through the door, Dorek scowls, snarling back a reply in the same guttural tongue.
Dorek steps into the gap left by Tandyn, his claws raised like boxers he's seen in the back alleys of Kenabres. His strikes are cautious and probing, keeping a close eye on his foes and their movements.
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Aroden moves up past the barricade, and tries Daze on the woman in the room. He seems to have line of sight to her, but if she is a Tiefling the spell will have no effect.
Thawm walks around the barricade to the other side.
"Uh oh." she explains as she notices the smouldering bits of wood.
She creates a downpour of 2 gallons of water over the closer barricade, trying to keep it from burning in the middle of her new friends.
"Thawm!!! You could create clean water this whole time?!"
"I- yes." Thawm explains.
"Were you thirsty?" she wonders aloud.
"I- I don't think now is the time-" she explains.
Ahmose seems to be having some type of fit reaction to all the shananagins that are being offered up to his blue eyes....
"We could have rinsed all this stuff off! Maybe even a bath! Wait, you can warm it up too! Hurry up everyone, the sooner they're dead, the sooner we can try this out."
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"Yes. Let's kill the bad guys so we can take a bath." Thawm says, sounding incredibly disappointed.
She pauses for a beat.
"Actually, that sounds really good..." she adds, suddenly very enthusiastic.
"Cleanliness is next to godliness. Right Aroden?"
"What? Oh, erm... yes, a bath would be nice."
Ahmose will casually walks amongst the burning barricades to stand next to...checking The Map!...
A bit f!&!ing crowded around here!
The grumbling Blue-scaled Kobold stands next to Aroden.
The Alchemist decides to take out his Mutagen and drinks it!
"Sorry!" Thawm explains.
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"Ahmose! You're an alchemist. I know now's not the time, but this is important. Can you make soap?"
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Something strikes Cecily as odd about the muffled word from behind the door and Dorek's response, but she can't quite place it. Then her eyes go wide at the prospect of an imminent bath. It wouldn't solve all of her problems, in fact she still has some incredibly large ones that it wouldn't help at all. But it would feel really good, in a time when everything was pretty really damn bad.
She looks through the doorway and sees another of those damned cultists with another of their damned glaives. Wait, no, this one's a little different. No matter. She feels the anger welling up inside her again, and she lets it come. But this time, she's already ensconced within the familiar confines of Terendelev's training and rote forms. Her body knows how to move. She just gives it a little push.
You. Are. NOT. SPOILING. MY. BAAATTTH!
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Tandyn gives the dazed mongrel a nasty gut wound after he opens the door, followed by Dorek who causes them to fall into unconsciousness.
Aroden tries to arrest the cultist’s mind but finds that she is not some weak willed nobody.
Thawm ends the threat of the burning barricades by summoning a good deal of water, stunning nearly everyone in the room who desperately wants to be clean.
The glaive wielding cultist starts retorting to Dorek but the banter seems to have stunned her into silence, you feel her judging gaze fall upon you. Cecily takes the opportunity to charge the woman causing a nasty wound, but her glaive is ready.
The cultist points at Dorek and the spiritual glaive takes a swing at him. She then steps away from Cecily, corrects her aim, and cuts into her.
The horned woman gets behind Cecily, dropping her crossbow and drawing a sword.
The remaining mongrel takes a pot shot at Dorek.
Ahmose sighs at the traffic jam at the doorway to Asshat cultists ville. The Alchemist (now looking sleeker and more dexterous) decides to go see what's what in there himself!
Using the terrain and taller folks as cover, the Blue-scaled Kobold Stealths pass everyone to slip underneath the table inside the Asshat cultists chamber.
"Pincer." Tandyn whispers to Dorek as he rushes by his injured friends putting himself between them and the glaive wielding woman.
"Speaking of cleansing..." He forcefully swings at her.
The tiefling manages to draw her blade against Tandyn's leg but the cultist is unable to beat his divinely empowered defenses and he manages to smite her into oblivion.
If the cultist is down, Aroden will move up and try to Daze the remaining Mongrelfolk.
Dorek clumsily shifts to the side as Tandyn rushes by, hissing in pain as his hand rises to his massive wound. At the paladin's words, he nods assent, rushing around Cecily and the unknown tiefling while drawing his sword and, in one fluid motion, lashing out at his foe's unprotected back. "D-damned demon worshipers! T-this is for my c-clan, you slime!"
From under the table, watching all the daring-dos and adventurous goings-ons, the Blue-scaled Kobold thinks to himself as he wide eyed watches Dorek's presented backside to the glaive lady!
Hope she doesn't have Combat Reflexes!
"Owowowow." Thawm explains as she grasps her flank. The groove that the spiritual glaive carved in Dorek's side start closing up, becoming a much more superficial injury.
"Stupid cultists and their stupid ghost glaives-" Thawm complains as she casts a healing spell on herself and leans on the wall to catch her breath.
Cecily takes a slash from the cultist's glaive that nearly would have felled her mere hours ago, but now she barely feels it. She is about to rush within the glaive's reach when Sir Tandyn beats her to it and cuts the cultist down. She spins under the wide stab from the horned woman behind her and flashes a feral grin as Dorek gives that attacker a taste of her own medicine. Cecily leans into her spin and whirls on the assailant with a spin kick...
and she follows it up with a headbutt, cracking her horns into the other woman's and becoming the top slice in a violent tiefling sandwich.
The mongrels will continues to pose no hindrance to Aroden. Meanwhile, Dorek and Cecily tear apart the tiefling.
Thawm breathes heavily as she steals the rest of Dorek's injuries.
She walks into the room and sees the dazed mongrel man.
"Catch." she says sharply, tossing a splash of acid at him.
Tandyn strides around the table.
"Your bolt pierced my chest..."
He reaches back and tries to thrust his sword at the same point on the dazed mongrel's chest...
...and pushes it all the way through their back.
Dorek glances apologetically at Thawm as the last of his injuries close and new ones spring up on the sorcerer's body. Following Tandyn's lead, he strides up behind the mongrel impaled on Tandyn's sword, slashing at the likely already dead crossbowman. "F-for Lost Sarkoris!"
With a spash of acid to the face and a sword completely through them, the last opponent falls ending the conflict.
You find a letter on the woman wielding the glaive.
Hosilla,
You will remain, for the time being, in Kenabres, but know this: the city’s days are numbered. Seek a place of safety, the underground den of your mongrel lackeys should suffice to keep you safe from the devastation to come. I shall assume command of Drezen shortly, and once Vorlesh has finished with the wardstone and Kenabres is no longer of interest to us, you are to return to my side. Excellent news regarding the salvage of Yaniel’s sword from the museum as well, bring it with you, for I believe this weapon could be quite useful once we corrupt it. Before you leave for Drezen, stop by the three safe houses (Nyserian Manor, Topaz Solutions, and the Tower of Estrod—the passphrase remains “I’ve new material for the archives,” for now) to ensure no evidence remains behind.
May Lord Deskari and Lord Baphomet watch over you!
S. V.
Instead, she said she would enter the Worldwound and fight the Fourth Crusade on her own, with only her magic sword Radiance for company. The church was happy to see Yaniel go, and in the 2 years that followed, she was thought to have been slain. Yet when she returned to Kenabres in 4694 ar, leading a small army of crusaders she’d rescued, both Yaniel and her superiors had changed. For her part, Yaniel had shed her pride and insubordination, and had gained a new appreciation for the difficult decisions leaders are forced to make. And the church leaders had learned that sometimes the truth is exactly what you need to hear.
Alas, Yaniel was assassinated before the year was out, slain by the lilitu demon Minagho only a week into her second personal crusade. Her followers managed to return to Kenabres with Radiance, but Yaniel’s body had been taken. The sword had gone dark after Yaniel’s death, its magical powers apparently lost, and so the crusaders elected to place it in the Gray Garrison on display. Yet several months ago it was stolen.
When Anevia sees the note she eagerly suggests, "We need to find Beth, Irabeth Tirabade and the Eagle Watch and get this information to them." Then sudden despair overcomes her and she looks like she's holding back from weeping.
Aravashnial asks, "What is it? Can you read the note to me?"
Meeting Hall
Three copper bowls filled with glowing coals hang from the ceiling of this long, natural cavern. The braziers fill the chamber with warmth and soft orange light. In the center of the chamber stands a block of stone that serves as a table, lined with wooden chairs. An enormous bloodstain, maybe a week old, darkens the stone’s surface.
Kitchen
Old blood stains the floor of this small cavern. Barrels filled with scraps of fur and fat sit against one wall, emitting an foul stench. The two long stone slab tables are covered with skinning tools and piles of freshly butchered meat. Two wooden racks hold drying animal skins. A masterwork dagger that's been used as a cleaver is wedged in between the ribs of a butchered dire rat.
Hosilla's Quarters
A stone pedestal holds a copper brazier aloft in the center of this room. Against the western wall, an enormous pile of animal furs and thick quilts serves as a bed. Sheathed weapons and stone carvings adorn the walls. The eastern half of the room holds a wooden desk, beneath which stands a long, thin iron lockbox.
"The sword of Yaniel! The paladin of Iomedae who fought a crusade for two years single-handedly with her sword Radiance! Her courage and valor led to the rescue of many Crusaders, swelling her ranks into a small army.
Slain by the demon assassin Minagho. Although her sword was thought to have lost its power, clearly the demons do not think so, for they have gone to the trouble of stealing it from the Grey Garrison. It sounds like this cultist Hosilla had the sword somewhere around here - let us search carefully."
"Horgus, any information you can give us will be of assistance. What is it in the note that troubles you? The theft of Radiance? The mention of these safe houses? One of them you are surprised to see be a cultist stronghold? Those you thought were friends, allies or loyal citizens of Kenabres? The demons and cultists are cunning, able to fool even the wise at times."
Horgus looks at Aroden, takes a deep breath and explains, "I knew Kandro Nyserian. I lent him money, even." He glances at Anevia and admits, "Kandro had the opportunity to purchase Irabeth Tirabade's family sword, a bane to demons, as I understand it. Irabeth needed money to help with, Anevia's condition at the time." He stammers, "And well they were getting married at the time and weddings cost money you see."
Anevia's jaw drops at the revelation, "Beth, why would you do that? That was your fathers sword."
As the last guardian falls, Dorek sheaths his short sword, moving over to the fallen form of Hosilla and searching her unconscious form. "She m-might have some information - we should c-check." After finding the letter and handing it to Aroden, as well as pocketing the key, he draws his clan dagger, etching Hallit symbols into the dead cultist's forehead.
After he finishes, he moves over to the fallen tiefling, giving her the same treatment.
His bloody work done, he stands, wiping off his claws with a stained rag from his locksmith's kit, before moving into the northern room, where the cultists had come from. Noticing the lockbox, he grins, unrolling his tool kit. "Oh l-look - a t-two-cylinder. C-cute."
After half a minute, the box lies open on the ground, and he rummages through its contents. A minute later, he returns to the group, holding a long, thin darkwood sword case in his talons. "There was a l-lockbox in the other r-room - some g-gems, a few s-scrolls I thought Aroden might k-know more about, but the r-real treasure was this." He glances down at the sword case, raising his eyebrows appreciatively. "I know a f-few fences who might buy this - m-might even be able to get a couple hundred g-gold for it..." He glances at Tandyn nervously, hurriedly amending his statement. "...W-which would be wrong. We should d-definitely try and find the proper authorities. D-definitely." He hands the case to Aroden. "A-anyway, didn't you s-say about how there was some great s-sword the cultists hid around here? This l-looks like it - I t-thought I might bring it b-back to you, let you s-see if it was the r-right sword."
Ahmose is seen watching the spectacular performances by his peers. He is seen (safely under this nice table) eating freshly popped popcorn and candy corn.
At the fantastical finishing flourish by that sharp dressed man, Sir Tandyn, the Blue-scaled Kobold rises quickly out from under the very nice table (still munching on deliciously freshly popped popcorn and candy corn) to gives everyone a thumbs up and a hearty pat on the rear (as he expeditiously retrieves any found Potions)....
The Alchemist just smiles.
We thank you for your service.
Cecily takes a few moments to calm down and collect herself after the fight, her breath coming heavily in the calm after the exertion. She looks to Thawm's tender mercies as her glaive wound starts to sting fiercely.
She listens with rapt attention and a glint of excitement in her eye at Aroden's recitation of Yaniel's exploits, the adventure in the tale piquing her interest. "Such a storied artifact could be here?
She watches Dorek with a far more distrustful eye as he carves suspicious gibberish on the faces of the fall and chants no-doubt-demonic words. But if he's aligned with the demons after all, why does he continue to fight them? She plants her fists on her hips and stares him down before challenging him. "Why do you desecrate the bodies of the dead, demonspawn? she spits with venom. "We should burn the bodies. Cleanse them. She looks to Sir Tandyn with another sidelong glance at Dorek. "To make sure no one raises them against us again."
Thawm looks like she has heard about the sword too, and when Horgus seems perturbed, she adds a look of concern to Aroden's question.
She doesn't say much, however, as she spends the time healing Cecily, Tandyn, and herself.
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"Why do you desecrate the bodies of the dead, demonspawn? We should burn the bodies. Cleanse them. To make sure no one raises them against us again."
Dorek scowls at Cecily's words, glaring at the noblewoman with one crimson eye. "It's a t-traitor's prayer - to m-make sure that in the gods' r-realm, they won't s-speak their lies, c-cause trouble. I w-write it in their blood so it will be e-etched on their s-souls." He sneers at the Iomedaean monk. "You s-southerners can b-burn the bodies, do your h-heathen mage-prayers, but first, I-I'm going to do what's n-needed to make sure they d-don't corrupt others in the w-worlds beyond."
"You s-southerners can b-burn the bodies, do your h-heathen mage-prayers, but first, I-I'm going to do what's n-needed to make sure they d-don't corrupt others in the w-worlds beyond."
Suspicion twists to incredulous amusement. "Hm! And you barbarians would be almost noble in your actions were there any truth to your superstitions."
As that happens, she smiles warmly at the healing warmth knitting her wounds closed. "As ever, thank you dear Thawm."
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Ahmose seems to be whistling a merry tune as he continues to collect Potions..
"I agree with Cecily, Dorek. I do not think you should desecrate the bodies of the dead, no matter their sins in life. There is no need to fear that their lies will carry any weight in the Great Beyond. The judge of souls is not easily fooled. I too would ask that you not engage in that practice."
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"Hm! And you barbarians would be almost noble in your actions were there any truth to your superstitions."
Dorek crosses his arms, scowling. "Is that s-so? When we get back to the s-surface, I'll get my b-brother, and you can get your p-priests, and they'll t-take turns calling down their goddesses and s-see who bothers to s-show up. Unlike you c-civilized folk, we can s-see our gods, talk to them, while you b-believe in gods you've never s-seen and will n-never see while you live. And you call us s-superstitious!"
At the combined arguments from Cecily and Aroden, he throws up his arms. "F-fine - but be it on y-your heads if they cause t-trouble in the gods' r-realm!"
Seeking to change the subject, he approaches whoever has the note from Hosilla, glancing through the scrap of paper again. "W-well, at least we k-know the cultist p-passphrase - that will c-come in useful. T-topaz Solutions - I k-know of it. My c-cousin used to be a clerk there. He s-said the owner had s-something in the basement he d-didn't want others to see - when he a-asked, the owner said it was a s-shrine to the old Kellid gods, so my c-cousin didn't p-press the matter." He scowls. "E-evidently, that was not the c-case."
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Aroden thinks about casting Detect Magic on the sword case. Or checking it for traps. But that would seem insulting in a way. Lacking in faith.
Instead, he reaches out with his feelings, trying to sense a connection to the divine... to Her. The one who had become a herald and then a goddess.
He opens the sword case. If there is a blade inside, he will offer it to Sir Tandyn.
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I saw my godess... in a dream... Thawm thinks to herself.
Well, they're bothering Dorek enough. Maybe I'll mention it later. She thinks as she finishes her healing magic.
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Aroden reaches out with his senses and for a brief moment he see a halo of gold around the case, but it's gone before he can focus on it.
When he opens the case he finds a sword, completely unadorned, purely functional. It is 4ft long with a crusader-style hilt, bound in wire. A slender metal spike is set into the crossguard, flecked with red, perhaps rust. There may have been designs on the hilt but if they once existed, they've been worn away by time and use.
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Tandyn shoves the mongrel off his blade and begins his routine of cleaning the cold iron with his bare hand.
Tandyn's eyes light up at the mention of Yaniel's sword, and he nods along with Aroden's retelling of the tale. "Relic thieves... You're right Aroden, if they want it, so do we."
"Thank you for the healing Thawm. Did you see those barrels over there? I bet we could clean those out and put water in them..."
Tandyn stares at the desecrated corpses. For a moment he almost thought he'd registered some feeling about it... but no. Still nothing. "Dorek, I swear each morning to have faith in my companions. Please ease us into these things." He tries desperately to suppress a smirk.
As Aroden opens the case, Tandyn stands at his side. His eyes lock onto the sword. The sword of Yaniel herself. It really was here. Even in its diminished state, it's a true icon of the crusade. He falls to his knees, bows his head, and silently recites his oath with one hand on the holy symbol in his pouch.
When Aroden offers the sword he almost doesn't hear him. He finishes up reciting his oath and stands before the sword.
"I am its to wield. I pray I am suitable." He takes it in hand and begins maneuvering it to get a sense for it.
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When Tandyn takes up the sword, the room fills with a lambent glow, making the sword appear to be made of gold. At the same time both paladin and sword thrum with subtle power. Then the light fades and the sword returns to its humble form.
"Dorek, I swear each morning to have faith in my companions. Please ease us into these things."
Dorek raises his hands defensively. "H-hey, blood for the g-gods is only c-common sense - until C-cecily said something, I s-swear I thought everyone else d-did it this way. If you d-don't want me to do it, I w-won't." He looks quizzically at Thawm. "You know a l-lot about your goddess S-sarnay - h-haven't you ever shed your b-blood so your soul will p-protect one of your friends in the n-next world?" The tall locksmith shrugs. "I t-thought everyone did that."
As Aroden opens the case, Dorek peers at the blade within, blissfully unaware of the aura of power surrounding the lost sword. "Good c-craftsmanship, looks like - of course, I'm no b-bladesmith, to know for s-sure. S-shame about the weathering, but my c-cousin Rovan is a b-blacksmith - maybe he can..."
Just then, Tandyn takes up the sword, touching it to the ground as he begins his prayer. When the sword reacts to the paladin's piety and its aureate glow fills the cramped cavern, Dorek initially brings his hand up to shield his eye from the bright light, but after a moment, he brings it down again so he can see the magnificent sword. As it casts its light around the room, he stands silent for a moment, open-mouthed. "I-it's... beautiful..."
When the glow fades, the spindly tiefling clears his throat, blinking back tears from his red eye. "W-when I was a boy, my g-grandmother showed me a hidden p-place - a garden with all the l-lost plants of our clan's h-herbalists. It was like a s-symphony in color - but it was also very s-sad. Vines reached out t-tendrils for lost neighbors, t-trees futilely stretched their branches in the s-small walls of the garden..." He nods at the blade Tandyn holds. "That s-sword... its l-light... it was like the b-beauty of that h-hidden garden, but where the g-garden was sorrowful, p-pining for a lost land and a s-shattered people, that light held h-hope - hope that one day, the world will be a b-better place, that the one who w-wields it will someday set it aside and live a life of p-peace."
After witnessing the miraculous light from the blade, Dorek seems to be more cheerful - where his posture was once hunched and furtive, he now stands tall, bolstered by his new well of courage. "So, T-tandyn, where next? There's a w-way forward through the kitchen down here, and there was that l-lake through that other p-passage."
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Having happily procured all the Potions, the Alchemist turns around just as Sir Tandyn lifts the found longsword.
As the room fills with a lambent glow, making the sword appear to be made of gold. At the same time both paladin and sword thrum with subtle power. Then the light fades and the sword returns to its humble form , the Blue-scaled Kobold begins laughing with glee!
Holy s#%% turds! That will sell for a fortune! Try not using up it's juice until you can do that again for a proper buyer!
The Alchemist's blue eyes notice the frowns, fierce looking eyes staring daggers at him and the way Aroden sadly shakes his head at him.
What? Not selling it then? Was only a suggestion...
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He looks quizzically at Thawm. "You know a l-lot about your goddess S-sarnay - h-haven't you ever shed your b-blood so your soul will p-protect one of your friends in the n-next world?" The tall locksmith shrugs. "I t-thought everyone did that."
Thawm's eye twitches as she returns Dorek's look. She opens her mouth to speak when the golden light interrupts. It takes her a few moments to refocus on Dorek.
"For your information: I, at least, have seen my goddess. In my dreams at least. Also, I thought I misheard you earlier. Her name isn't 'Sarnay'. It is pronounced SAER-en-ray." she explains.
"You may refer to her as
The Dawnflower,
The Cleansing Light,
The Everlight,
The Healing Light,
The Healing Flame-"
She explains, extending one finger for each title. Then she extends one finger from her free hand to point and wave vigorously in Dorek's general direction.
"-or Sarenrae! But you will NOT call her 'Sarney' again." Thawm explains, instinctively throwing up gang signs casting Sign of the Dawnflower to punctuate her tirade.
She huffs and puffs for a moment before feeling a ... snap.
She looks very surprised as her lifeforce suddenly unlinks from Dorek's.
She then focuses very hard to reform the connection and break it off...
Ahmose suddenly jumps to his feet, runs into the kitchen, grabs the dagger off the butcher's block and returns to the Observatory!
I know who did it!