The Worldwound Incursion

GM

For the past several weeks, excitement has been building in Kenabres—Armasse is coming!  Traditionally, this time is an opportunity for scholars and priests to come together to study the lessons of history from wars past, though since Aroden’s death, this holy day has become more about training commoners in weaponry, choosing squires, and ordaining new priests.  Over time, Armasse has grown to encompass jousting competitions, mock duels, battle reenactments, and other festival activities.  The festival has always been eagerly anticipated, for it provides much-needed distractions from the horrors of being on the front line of the war against the Worldwound’s demonic hordes.  On Armasse, however, smiles were everywhere, decorating faces usually marred by downcast eyes and furrowed brows.  These smiles do wonders for city morale in the weeks leading up to the big event.

Armasse is a citywide celebration, but the majority of the event, including its jousting matches and other entertainments, take place at Clydwell Plaza, just west of the city’s biggest temple, Clydwell Cathedral.  Through one way or another, both Eshera and Krystiel have obtained excellent spots to observe the opening ceremonies at noon.  Noon has yet to occur, so there is time to speak to others in the crowds thronging to get just a little closer to the steps of the Cathedral.

Spoiler:

Krystiel

The weather was lovely.  True, it was a little chilly, but the day was nothing shy of beautiful, with just enough of a breeze to swirl her hair, skirts and cloak around her just enough.  The only thing that wasn’t lovely at the moment was the young man just to her right, doing his best to either put an arm around her or at least take her arm in his.  Krystiel wasn’t very happy with either idea, and kept coming up with an excuse to slip away just far enough to make his endeavors fail.

“Please, Lady Krystiel.  Just allow me to buy you some lunch this afternoon.  It’s a pretty day, though it’s nowhere near so pretty as you are,” he said, finally managing to slip an arm around her shoulders.  “There’s a little cafe just a little bit down from the plaza.  We can watch the opening and maybe a duel or two if you like, and then we can have a meal together.  It’ll be grand.”  

Despite being trapped under Denn’s unwanted arm, Krystial did manage to dodge out of the way of a kiss that looked to be most likely aimed at her cheek, although he might have been stupid enough to try for her lips.  “Go.  Away,” she hissed loudly.  “I am not a lady, particularly not YOUR lady, and I have already partaken of an early lunch.  Just leave me alone.  If you try this nonsense again, you will be sorry.”

“Aww, you don’t mean it, oh light of my life,” Denn said with what was probably supposed to be a charming grin.  To Krystiel, it looked more like a smirk.  “C’mon.  Get over here and give me a kiss.  All the wenches say I’m good at kissing.  Girls just need to be kissed, you know.”  He wrapped his other arm around her, clutching her far too close to his chest, and brought his lips down on hers, managing to stifle her protests from the loud voice she intended to use to express her anger and disgust to a mostly overpowered mutter.  

K’seri! she sent to her snow leopard, already on edge given Krystiel’s muffled rage.  BITE HIM IN THE ARSE!

Sometimes, one simply needed to use the tools one had on hand.

Eshera

She was finally alone. Well, alone within a crowd of people who were looking forward to seeing the opening ceremony. But she had gotten away from the mutterings from granny Catherine about people getting in her way and not being able to see anything, despite also not wanting to get closer because it was too crowded. And then she had walked almost straight into Menas with his insistence they should spend more time together, while also enquiring if she had gotten over her silly notion yet and was just going to stay and help in her father’s store. That, at least, was still acceptable despite it not being overly ‘womanly’. Thankfully his duties with the town guard had eventually made him leave, shortly after Simon had found them. She wouldn’t have minded spending more time with him on this day - since they shared the same beliefs - but he had some duties within the temple and couldn’t stay to watch the opening ceremony. She would probably catch him again later today, but for now she was surrounded by mostly strangers and was free to just relax without having to hold a polite conversation.

People were chatting around her; some excited about the festivities, others sharing stories and news with friendly acquaintances, and some were actively courting each other and trying to turn this day into a romantic meeting. None of them bothered her, despite some friendly glances and nods now and then, and that was quite all right with her. Today was promising to be a good day, at least if she could avoid granny Catherine and her preaches about proper behaviour and the old days.

As her gaze travelled around the crowd again, she noticed a snow leopard and raised an eyebrow. It didn’t seem feral, which likely meant it was someone’s pet - which was unusual and slightly worrisome - or companion.  And it was moving towards a nearby couple kissing with a rather determined pace. Hesitating for one moment, she gave an inward shrug and also started moving in that direction. If nothing was going on, she could just find a new spot to watch the opening ceremony. If something was about to happen, she couldn’t just pretend it didn’t concern her.

She had crossed most of the distance when the snow leopard attacked the male and… bit him in the arse. Despite half having wondered if something was going on, she didn’t quite expect that to happen. Neither did the male, from the startled response and his cry of shock and pain. Taking the last few steps with determination, her hand automatically fell on the hilt of her sword as she took in the situation.

“What is going on here? Aside from the obvious part of you being bitten.” Glancing from the male to the female, she took in the fact that the woman didn’t seem all that surprised that her companion was bitten by a snow leopard, or all that concerned for that matter. “Does that animal belong with you? Why did it attack?” She kept her voice calm and certain, and despite keeping a close eye on the trio in case one of them was foolish enough to turn this into a proper fight, she didn’t draw her sword. If the male had been seriously injured by the attack, his response would have been far more severe. As such, she would do her best to keep the situation from further escalating while also finding out what was going on. There was no reason to ruin the festivities for everyone, after all.

Krystiel

The rather firm, though not debilitating bite her dear K’seri had left on Denn’s rump was quite pleasing to behold. The overmuscled oaf had dropped to the ground, rolling away as quickly as he could to protect anything he might consider valuable. Krystiel noticed both hands dropping over his crotch. Hah. She’d not asked her leopard to do anything damaging to help, and indeed, sweet K’seri had merely delivered the asked-for bite to the bastard’s backside before sliding close to her mistress once more. Krystiel rubbed the back of her hand across her mouth twice, then spat as if to expel all of the vile taste associated with that bastard. She decided stepping on Denn’s crotch where it lay with such little cover as a pair of hands, but decided that would be a bit much. The jerk would have several days of trouble sitting comfortably, but K’seri hadn’t done any lasting damage. Probably a good thing, but nonetheless slightly discouraging.

At the approach of the law woman, Denn, of course, tried to monopolize the conversation. “Well, you see, my lady,” he murmured, looking towards the law maker with that same, stupid, fawning expression on his face. She wanted to hit him. Of course, that belonged strictly in the zone of things that one did not do in polite company, even if half of her “company” here had indeed been very impolite. “My Krystiel and I were out for a walk on the plaza. You can see what a good view of the I had selected for us. She was so thankful for my careful assistance that she leaned in to kiss me. All you ladies just love kissing, I know. Only proper for a man—one on his way out to the Worldwound tomorrow—to take all the lovin’ he can get. I mean, hey, you’re a pretty girl too. Won’t you bestow a kiss upon a soldier advancing into the demon wildlands? Tis only polite, really.”

Denn had just managed to scramble to his feet, and his focus on this new woman was enough for Krystiel to deliver a good punch to his jawline. “Dammit, Kryssie, you might have broken my jaw in addition to what your pet monster did to my other area. I know you’re just needin’ a little bit of a kiss and cuddle. I’ll come back to you later. And would you please tell that damned animal to stop grinning at me?”

“K’seri is far from damned, Denn. We made our first bond in the atrium of the temple. I’d tell you to go foist off your unwanted molestation somewhere else, but I’m afraid you’d actually do it. Just GO HOME,” she said, not bothering to modulate her tone. “And get out of my sight. I carry through with my promises. I told you that if you tried to wipe your disgusting mouth on mine again that you’d be sorry for it. How would you like to find K’seri following you around to keep other girls safe from your nonsense? Get out of here, you lummox.” And she really couldn’t help it. A thin ray of frost spilled from her finger, targeting the man’s as yet undamaged crotch perfectly. With a movement only slightly less noisy than a stifled streak, he left, quite literally turning to run.

Krystiel looked over towards the other woman, her expression melting to repentant. “I am truly sorry to have caused you any distress. That…scum had decided that I needed an escort to the festival today. They never seem to leave me alone. I guess I’ll go ahead and put my hood up, though I love the beauty of the breeze singing through my hair. So many of them seem to enjoy bothering me. A girl can tire of such madness quickly. Might I…” she murmured. “Might I ask that you stay nearby for a little while? I just want to hear the speeches and see the start of the festival. If you’d prefer a fee, I could spare a bit of gold for your…babysitting. Heh. Just keep them away, if you’d be so kind. There is nothing of that sort that I want from any male. Heh. Five gold to keep me safe until the festivities are underway?”

Hopefully, that would be something. The males could just…well, they could jump off a cliff, for all she cared. Although she supposed that they did have their purposes somewhere far away from her, Krystiel decided. There were tensions in the air this morning display. She needed to be able to stay here and see just what was coming. Besides, the festivities were usually enjoyable enough.

Eshera

She watched the male - Denn, apparently - scamper off with as neutral an expression as she could manage. Based on his words he was a certain kind of male that wasn’t pleasant to have near you, but did his actions justify being attacked by the leopard, punched and then targeted by magic? Diverting her gaze back to the woman as she starting speaking again, she quietly watched her. And wondered if she would make any better company than he would have been, although for rather different reasons.

“Do you usually go around hiring strangers to do your bidding?” The words came without real consideration, and with instant regret. She sighed a little and shook her head as she half raised her hand. “Never mind. That is not my concern. I have no objections to watching the ceremonial openings with you, if that’s what you prefer.” Except, of course, that it meant she couldn’t watch in the relative peace and quiet of only having to mind herself and what was happening near her. But doing so was what had resulted in her becoming involved in the first place, so she could hardly blame Krystiel for that.

“Although it seems to me it is more a case of keeping others safe from you. Between your companion, your weapon and your willingness to use magic even when it is no longer required, you are a dangerous woman to anger. You had your reasons for your actions, but try to limit further interactions to peaceful ones. If not for the sake of your would be suitors, then for the sake of the folk around you who simply wish to enjoy the festivities and forget about the ongoing violence and pain for a little while.”

Or, at least, believe for a while that this was a war they could win and that life was still worth living in this place. She had heard enough comments and seen enough forlorn looks to know that it wasn’t easy for the townsfolk. Even father had struggled with it for several months despite his strong faith. Losing mother had been difficult for all of them, but he was starting to emotionally recover from the wound. This was the first year he had even attended the festival, with him having a drink with old friends at the edge of the plaza. She hoped the conversations wouldn’t turn too grim, but they had all seemed more interested in light conversations and amusing stories than remembering the darker times. She could only pray he would find peace with them again.

Krystiel

“Strangers” Krystiel mused, a thoughtful smile pushing up the corners of her mouth a little. “No, lady, that I do not. However, in a crowd this size so full of men, I find the nearby presence of a woman such as yourself comforting. I don’t…like…men trying to hang all over me as that one was, and it happens too often for my taste. Please, don’t start on my style of clothing. I am very decently clad, and yet as a member of Shelyn’s temple, I am obliged to display such beauty as I may.”

Krystiel brought up the hood of her cloak, carefully tucking in the flyaway wisps of gold and silver hair. “As far as mine own behavior,” she continued, keeping her voice quiet enough almost to be on the point of sharing secrets. “Men like him are usually something from which I can escape with simple wordplay. Denn…was in far more aggressive a mood. He smelled of some sort of alcohol. I warned him that should he try to accost me again that he would be sorry for it. I’d meant only to freeze the heart of his desire with a touch of the frost ray, but when he manhandled me into his arms and kissed me…” She again wiped the back of one hand across her mouth, and spat to one side with an expression of pure disgust. “I hadn’t the freedom to use even a simple spell, so K’seri’s help seemed my only choice. As far as my weapon, as you can see, my glaive is utterly clean. I carry it only as a memento of my time in the Temple of the Eternal Rose, and as a walking stick should I need to travel far. I have not, nor would I, use a weapon in aught save the defense of my own life or that of a persecuted innocent nearby. Denn will suffer no lasting damage, save that to his pride, perhaps.”

Her face sobered. “In truth, I must know all that I can discover about the movements of the crusades. I am old enough to join the next crusade, and I’ve the skills to support my desire. There is something out there, you see, and I don’t just mean the hordes of demons. Someone has to stop them though. I intend to sign up as soon as Queen Galfrey calls for a fifth crusade. Someone must be ready to fight them, and that must be me. Oh sure,” Krystiel shrugged, today is a festival, and while that may indeed be amusing, it is naught compared to the speech Lord Hulrun will be giving in a few minutes.”

Krystiel shook her head. “That, I must hear. Might you be kind enough to join me, lady? By the by, my name is Krystiel Cernan. And your own?”

Eshera

She shook her head a little with a faint smile when Krystiel mentioned finding the presence of ‘a woman like her’ comforting, but said nothing in response to that. There was little reason in debating it, except if you were in the mood for a discussion and needed to find an excuse to start one. As far as she was concerned, there was no point to that.

“Eshera Kebral,” she murmured in response to the question, then gave a bit of an amused smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, even if the circumstances of this first meeting aren’t as pleasant. Something which, in itself, is almost impressive considering the festivities and the effort most make to keep things pleasant. Some people don’t seem to know when to stop, especially once alcohol or other substances play a troublesome role.”

Glancing across the crowd for a few moments, she continued at a softer voice. “The speech and the crusade are very important, I agree. But for the sake of the town and those who stay behind, I hope enough effort has also been put into the more… meaningless activities.” As well as for those who join the fight and need a reminder of happier times to bolster their courage. “Do you intend to do anything else this day, aside from listening to the speeches and gathering information about the fight? It would be a shame to let the actions of a few drive you away from a potentially joyful day.”

GM

Just as Krystiel opened her mouth to reply, the sound was completely overridden by the lovely clanging of the cathedral bells, pronouncing the hour of noon. The bells seemed to stop…oddly, as though something not part of the crew charged with ringing them has demanded that the clatter fall to stillness. The bright noon sky has disappeared, hidden behind a choking odor of stone dust and rubble. Eshera and Krystiel both experience a burst of utter forgetfulness. What was it that happened after the bells rang? And why, why on EARTH were they now buried under what seems a ton of the stuff. Each of their heads aches violently, though aside from small bruises and maybe a little cut or two from the shattered stonework lying near by. Not that they can actually see the shattered stonework. The girls have fond themselves completely locked away from light. There seems to be naught but darkness.

Darkness, and soft moans of pain.

Eshera

“What…” What had happened? What was going on? What was causing this? Where was everyone? How did they get here? Where was here? All questions that ran through her mind, and none of them were as important as the nearby sounds of pain .  

“Krystiel?” She softly asked, uncertain if the woman she could remember talking to before the first sound of the bells was still there, and if she was all right. What had happened? Surely something must have happened, but she couldn’t remember it. Now there was just darkness and questions and a terrible headache and the smell of stone and dust. She tried to take a settling breath, only to inhale more of the dust and helplessly cough for a few moments before she could get the urge under control. Shallow breaths were a better idea, apparently.

She gingerly felt around with her hands, one dropping down to check if her sword was still where she remembered it to be, despite those memories not making sense with what she saw around her now. Or didn’t see. The damn darkness was a problem and dangerous. Anything could be nearby, and she wouldn’t know it until it was too late. And even if there was no one here to attack her - and why would there be? But then again, why wouldn’t there be? - it was easy to get hurt by moving in the darkness.

“Are you all right?” Speaking softly, she reminded herself anew that it was better to focus on the things that were important, not the things that she couldn’t change. She couldn’t do something about the darkness or the memories not making sense. But someone was in pain, and that meant someone needed help. Even if she wasn’t sure if she could help.

Krystiel
The utter blackness was disturbing, as were the whimpers of pain coming from several directions around where she and Eshera seemed to be. K’seri—thank Shelyn!—and Rhalgar, who’d been safely tucked away in her pocket, both seemed to be all right. Neither was making any pained sounds in her mind, though K’seri’s obvious unsettledness was almost as crazy as her headache. What had happened?

The ground. It had…cracked. Krystiel could remember dodging around a toppling statue that could have killed her, could remember seeing Eshera drag a child that had been nearby out of the opening fissure and tossing the little one away from the utterly wrong widening hole in the earth. “I…I think I’m all right, more or less,” she murmured, not quite certain as to how true her words were. “It’s so dark.” This was only obvious. “Wait, one moment. I can help with the darkness. You may wish to cover your eyes for a few seconds, any of you who can hear me. I will do everything I can to help you.”

With the caution given, Krystiel closed her own eyes, activating the halo atop her head. The light which sprung from it was bright enough to give normal light to a fairly large room. She’d never bothered to measure it. The light shone strongly against her closed eyes, and after a second, she tried to open them. There was nothing now except LIGHT. Bright, burning light, the light of a sun and a blaze and a pure silver soul. Slowly, she toppled back to a seat on the ground, remembering.

GM

As the brilliant new flash of light from Krystiel’s halo illuminates the room, neither girl can see aught but a memory. Armasse began at noon, the tolling of the bells giving the invitation to listen. Lord Hulrun himself took the stage, and the crowd gathered in Clydwell Plaza quieted to listen to the aged man clad in his shining, resplendent armor. He cleared his throat, but just as he was about to speak, a brilliant light shone from the west, as if the sun were rising from the wrong direction. Hulrun’s shadow fell huge and distorted along the cathedral’s facade. Scarcely a moment later, the sound of a gigantic explosion tore through the air and earth, along with a violent tremor.

To the west, the fortress known as the Kite—the location of Kenabres’s wardstone—had vanished. In its place, a brilliant plume of red fire, purple lightning and heavy black smoke erupted into the heavens.

A moment later, a powerful roar accompanied a welcome sight rising from the crowd—Kenabres’s greatest guardian, the ancient silver dragon Terendelev, who had until that moment been attending the opening ceremony disguised as a human. Above, another form appeared, one as nightmarish as the dragon was breathtaking. His was roughly a humanoid shape, though one several times larger than any man had the right to be. His skin was coated in fire and lightning, as were the flaming sword and whip he bore. The creature’s identity was immediately obvious to anyone who knew anything at all of the crusades.. This was Khorramzadeh, the Storm King of the Worldwound, and it seemed he had decided to come to Kenabres!

As the ground continued to shake and disgorge demons into the streets, the dragon and the balor lord clashed above. The fight was over in a few harrowing moments, as the balor cut deep into Terendelev’s body, swooping down to strike the dragon and arrest her charge. A few more blows, and the titanic duo spiraled downward toward the crowd.

The site of the dragon smashing into the facade of the Cathedral of St. Clydwell is something no witness would ever forget. At that moment, a second massive demon erupted from the far end of the plaza, reducing several buildings to ruins as it smashed into this world. The rift it created shot across the plaza, and this time, there would be no escape. The rift opened directly under the girls’ feet, angling away into midnight darkness.

Even as they fell, however, both Eshera and Krystiel caught sight of the dragon and knew beyond doubt that she had noticed their plight. Though she saw death standing over her, Terendelev seized this final chance to save a few more souls. After she uttered a few arcane words and stretched out a bleeding talon, both of the young ladies felt the dragon’s magic take hold of them, slowing their plummet into the darkness as if they were feathers drifting in a breeze. The fall, however, was inexorable, and the last thing the girls saw was the Storm King standing before the ancient silver dragon, his sword lashing out and cleaving through her neck. As Terendelev’s severed head fell, the rift into which they had fallen slammed shut, and the light of the world above was gone.

Eshera

The bright light replacing the darkness hurt, but not nearly as much as the memory did. Tears welled up as she remembered the sacrifice Terendelev had made and her hand clenched the grip of her longsword tightly. The death of Terendelev was terrible and darkened the world beyond just the present. To lose such a noble soul… The devastation preceding it was horrible, as well. The destruction of the fortress, the appearance of demons in a town filled with innocents... she breathed out slowly, shakily.

“Iomedae, Lady of Valor, please be with us.” Her words were not much more than a whisper carried by her breath, the pain of the memory too strong to simply set aside. Blinking away tears, she diverted her gaze from where the light seemed to be the strongest and allowed her eyes some time to adjust to light instead of darkness. And her heart some time to acknowledge the pain and quietly promise it that there would be a chance to mourn later. If she thought too long on what was happening elsewhere…

Shaking her head a little, she carefully took a deeper breath and focused on her immediate surroundings. A bulgy pressure against her hip turned out to be a set of thieves’ tools, which she quietly took. She knew how to use those, thanks to her mother’s insistence that they could be used for more than just dishonourable things. Father had occasionally grumbled about it, but had… father. Clenching her hand tightly, she closed her eyes for a brief moment, forcing herself to think on something she could do, here and now. Father was not here. At least, she hadn’t seen him yet and he hadn’t been near her when all this started. But others were.  

So she started to get herself off the ground, pushing debris and stone away as she did so. First she needed to get on her feet and figure out if there was an immediate danger. Then she needed to find the ones who were making the sounds of pain and see if there was anything she could do to help them. At least Krystiel had said she was all right, so that meant there were two of them who were relatively unharmed. Perhaps there were others who had been lucky and could help. If not, it would fall on them to help the ones they could. One step at a time.

Krystiel

The memory burned through Krystiel’s mind, every loss seared into her remembrance.  Terendelev.  That she should have died was utterly unthinkable.  And yet…and yet she had died, but she had saved whatever people were here aside from herself and Eshera.  Praise be to Shelyn that Eshera had arrived safely as well; she’d pay a hundred gold if need be for an escort to the surface!  Terendelev.  She was gone, and so very terribly.  Krystiel would never forget the noble dragon, who had always been so kind.  She shook her head, new tears trickling down her cheeks.  So many people gone.  So many demons!  She would need to find her way to the surface so that she could help the people of Kenabres.  Who knows, perhaps she could even help the crusaders.

For now, though, she was here.  Krystiel opened her eyes slowly, looking around at the now lit chamber.  It was a vast cavern, with the ceiling and far walls receding into darkness.  On one side, the wall was collapsed in an enormous mound of rubble, and unfortunately, here and there the arms or legs of victims who didn’t survive the fall protrude.  Her eyes fell first on the bodies of three more survivors amid the fallen rubble.  One was a woman with short, reddish brown hair.  She sat silently, with a set expression of suppressed pain marring her features.  It was easy to tell what was giving this one pain: several chunks of heavy stone have trapped her leg.  

An elven man lay nearby, his face a mess of horrific burns.  His form is still, though still breathing.  His eyes though…his eyes!  Both had been destroyed by some sort of lashing burn, very obvious even with his stillness.  The man’s long white hair was tangled with blood and stone dust, not a particularly attractive sight, but very decidedly in need of care.

The second man was the source of the pained moaning.  Krystiel looked over at him, trying to assess his injuries so that she could care for each of these survivors in order of their need.  “Finally!” he said when he saw her looking at him.  “You there, bind my obvious wounds and make certain that there is no damage to my inner organs.  I thought I was going to die of agony left alone here in the dark.”  He paused long enough to snap his fingers twice at Krystiel.  “Come on, now, hop to it!”  The impatience on his face left little to doubt that he’d decided that he, of course, had the most gruesome injuries.  Oddly enough, Krystiel could see only a few small cuts and minor bruises.

 Just then, a disturbing squelching sound echoed from the back of the cavern, where a disturbing shape loomed.  It was almost the size of a horse, and looked like an immense black spider crouching still and silent on the ground.  It wasn’t very far away, and Krystiel could hear something like quiet chewing noises, and saw a bulge wriggling inside of the spider’s abdomen.  A grimace of distaste crossed her face, and Krystiel murmured “Apologies to those of you who have been wounded, but I think, perhaps, that dealing with that…that thing is something we should care for first.  Lady Eshera?  Will you assist me?”  

With or without Eshera’s assistance, Krystiel took up her glaive and strode carefully towards the enormous spider.

 

Eshera

Too many who hadn’t survived, a few who seemed they might survive if they could get help in time and one rather vocal man who needed assistance. She wasn’t a healer, but she would do her best to provide aid… once she was certain their immediate surroundings were safe. Spotting the spider around the same time as Krystiel, she drew her longsword and slowly moved towards the creature so she could better assess how dangerous it was. She didn’t respond to Krystiel’s words beyond a nod, while also choosing her path so that she would be between it and those who were wounded.

She spared a single glance towards the more vocal of the three survivors, simply to judge how much combat sense he might have. The human female seemed the wisest in this regard, and the human male unfortunately the least accustomed to hardships and the accompanying dangers. “Please keep your voice down,” she said calmly while once again focusing on the potential threat, “it will be much harder to keep you safe if you attract the attention of creatures by making loud noises.”

Despite there being movement and sound near the spider, the spider itself barely reacted. “Be careful that you don’t come too close. I don’t want you to join the ranks of the wounded.” Krystiel was likely smart enough to know that those who fought with magic shouldn’t get too close, but the events had been traumatic and people did strange things in strange situations. As she continued to get closer to it, she remained wary of any attack. Something was alive and making sounds, and the chances of it being harmless enough to simply flee were slim. In a way, she rather hoped it wasn’t something harmless. Fighting wasn’t the answer to everything, but right now… being able to focus on fighting something sounded rather welcoming.

And then there was something. And it was… gross. Smirking, she told herself that something gross was still better than a giant spider with the size of a horse. It would probably also be less gross when dead. Well, at least it wouldn’t make sounds anymore once it was dead. Good enough. She readied herself to defend against its attacks, and moved in to attack as well.

Rolling initiative: 1d20+5 = 18

Initiative!

Krystiel:  10+5 15

Beasties:  11-1 10

Moving towards the closest creature, she attacked it with her longsword and hoped it was less nasty than it seemed.

Attack with longsword: 1d20+6 = 19.
If it hits: 1d8+4 = 7 slashing damage.

Krystiel

Krystiel could only watch as Eshera’s mighty slice cleaved the first of the maggoty things into two pieces, neither of which was moving with anything other than death cramps.  She directly K’seri—she was so very, very thankful that her leopard and little lizard were safe!—into the fray.  K’seri lunged at the remaining grub, clawing and biting at it as though it were some new sort of toy.  She aimed a ray of frost at the hideous bug, intending that this one, too, would not live to bother anyone else.

K'seri's bite was aimed too high, and snapped just over the creature's front end. Her claws, nevertheless, were both right on target, raking into the thing's body and leaving it a mess of dying...stuff. Krystiel's frost ray wasn't needed, but did add a snap of ice to the creature's back.

Eshera

The first thing died before it could attack her, with her trusted sword slicing straight through its wet body. She saw the leopard from the corner of her eye and by the time she’d turned around the other creature was reduced to bits and pieces. Gross bits and pieces, with some of them still twitching a bit. Smiling a little at the sight, she glanced towards Krystiel and gave her a nod. She didn’t put her sword away just yet, however, since there might still be more creatures nearby. At least the fight had gone swiftly and relatively quietly, which made it less likely they had drawn the attention of nearby enemies who didn’t already know they were here.

Carefully moving around, she took a bit of time to check if there were any other of those creatures hiding inside the spider. It seemed they had used the spider as their meal. Not an overly pleasant sight - or smell - but still preferable to the spider being alive and attacking them. There was some rubble near the spider, and she cautiously approached it. The chances of something hiding there were higher than on the openness of the cavern, although the floor could hardly be called even.

As she came closer, she noticed a glimmer in the light of Krystiel’s halo. Moving towards it without letting her guard down too much, she froze when she realised what she saw. Taking in a deep steadying breath, she ignored the smell of the nearby dead creatures and crouched down next to the silver scales. She ran one finger across it almost reverently, feeling the pain of losing Terendelev all over again. But also the quiet gratitude that came from knowing that the noble dragon had saved her. Probably more times than she knew, but in those final moments…

Brushing away some new tears, she glanced back to Krystiel. “You’ll want to look at this when you have the time. I think… I think that would be the right thing.” Just as helping the injured was the right thing to do. She knew that. There would be time for mourning later. She quietly reached down and carefully picked up one of the two scales. She would keep it safe along with the holy symbol of Iomedae. She didn’t think the Lady would be offended by that. And then she would try to help Krystiel and remain ready to defend them if something else showed up. She was much better with the sword than with healing, after all.

Krystiel

With the two hideous larva things dead, Krystiel hurried back to tend the other survivors’ wounds.  She heard Eshera’s comment, though, and  murmured an “All right,” in return.  With the threat coming from the far too large spider, Krystiel’s duty was to tend the wounded.

As she stepped back into the pathetic piles of what had been the Cathedral’s beautiful statuary, she noticed that the white-haired elf was stirring, trying to sit up with his hands attempting to feel at the mess his face had become.  Quickly, she knelt besides him, gently lowering his wrists to his side.  “Yes,” Krystiel heard the woman say, “tend to Aravashnial first, and then Lord Gwerm would probably appreciate your assistance.  I’m mostly all right.”

“And I should get it first, I tell you!  These wounds will be the death of me!  I’m sure that one of these shards of stone has lanced into my belly, so get over here, girl.  Leave the old elf to himself.  He’ll be all right.”  The human man’s words came tumbling over the woman’s assurance that she herself was mostly all right.  Which probably meant that she wasn’t truly all right, but first things first.  

First was certainly the elf, clearly unable to see a thing and covered with blood.  Krystiel cast create water into her waterskin to provide a source of cleanliness, then spilled some of the fresh, cool water over a clean bit of her cloak.  “Please, sir,” she said softly, “will you allow me to help you?  Here, let me cleanse your face so that I can see what has happened.”

“What’s happened is that that damned balor managed to lash his damned fiery whip into my eyes!  I need to know who is present.  Each of you, tell me your name and your level of experience with battling demons, or other fearsome creatures, I suppose.  You, whoever is washing my face.  Who are you?  Everything must proceed in some sort of order.  We will never find our way out of this mess without proper leadership.”

Krystiel didn’t cease her tender washing of the elf’s—Aravashnial, it seemed—face.  He’d not told her to do so anyway.  “My name is Krystiel Cernan, sir, and I am a…a magic user tied to the church of Shelyn.  I’ve no real experience in battles; we of the Eternal Rose work for healing rather than damaging those around us.”  With his facial wounds cleaned, Krystiel could see the ruin of his face and eyes.  In her opinion, he had been fortunate to lose only his sight and not his head.  “Here, let me heal you up and see if we can at least get you steady.  K’seri,” she called softly, “bring the blanket, if you would, please.”  As the leopard was not at all interested in trying to feed on the remains of those bug things, she trotted over with all the innate silence of a cat.

As Krystiel worked to unfasten the blanket she’d strapped to her companion’s back, the elf immediately chimed in wanting to know who this K’seri was.  “Is this one at least a fighter instead of a petty magic user, this K’seri?”

Krystiel couldn’t help a quiet bubble of laughter at this.  “Well, sir, she has been a fighter all of her life, of course.  K’seri is my snow leopard companion.”  

“Ah,” Aravashnial said dismissively, “you’re a druid then.  Unfortunate, but I suppose that cannot be helped at this point.”

“No sir,” Krystiel continued, “my life is a bit more…complicated than that.  I am an oracle of Shelyn, you see.”  Hastily, she murmured a healing spell to further stabilize the rather injured elf.

He was quiet as the spell sank into his wounded flesh, but a moment later, he seemed to remember something.  “Cernan.  You said your name is Cernan?  Was your father an aasimar, one of the Riftwardens?  A sorcerer?”

This surprised Krystiel.  “Yes…”  Her voice trailed off uncertainly.  “He and my mother died about twenty years ago.”

“Yes, the child.  Yes.  Perhaps you’re a good bit distant from useless.  Stay with me, child, and be my eyes for the nonce.  We do need to get out of here.  Get that other person I heard to introduce herself and give me a list of her battles.  We must get moving as soon as it is possible.”

“Yeah,” the other man said with obvious irritation.  “And some of us are too injured to even wiggle around as much as that elf.  Anevia, why don’t YOU get over here and have a look at my injuries?  Or I suppose if this girl is a healer, she should tend me immediately.  IMMEDIATELY, I tell you.”

Dice:

1d8+1, 8+1=9 hit points to Aravashnial
1d20 Diplomacy check, 11+12=Yes. Aravashnial is now friendly to the PCs.
Anevia, the female, remains indifferent for now, and Lord Horgus Gwerm is unfriendly.

Eshera

There didn’t seem to be any other creatures nearby, or at least none that were interested in fighting her at the moment. She quietly ran her fingers across the scale and then the holy symbol. Both were telling her to not give up and stay strong. She hadn’t intended to just lay down and wait for her death, but the reminder was still… nice. Moving back towards the others with careful attention, she knew that the longer they stayed here the more likely it was that the sounds and smells would attract other enemies. But leaving without doing their best to save the ones who were still alive was not an option.

“I’m afraid Anevia is in no position to move anywhere until we manage to free her leg, lord Gwerm.” Keeping her tone polite and neutral, she looked towards Krystiel. “You are the healer here, Krystiel. Is it safe to start trying to remove those stones from her leg while you tend to lord Gwerm, or would that make her injuries worse?” From what she had seen the lord hardly needed the assistance of a healer and was probably quite capable of getting up and walking around on his own. But she wasn’t a healer, and perhaps his injuries were more severe than they seemed. Perhaps.

“I am Eshera Kebral, sir Aravashnial. I’ve been training to join the fight from an early age, as have many others of my family before me. Due to… circumstances I have mostly stayed within the city these last two years, but I planned to take a more active role within a few months.” As she glanced at Krystiel and the snow leopard for a moment, sorrow crept back into her voice. “I was going to tell farther that after the festival.” Shaking her head a little with a sad smile, she moved closer to where Anevia was trapped beneath the stone.

“I can’t say I have much experience with battling fearsome creatures, sir. I have only been in a few skirmishes and none of those combatants were overly terrifying. You have my word that when the time comes I will fight to the best of my ability and that I won’t abandon the teachings of the Inheritor.”

Crouching down near Anevia - careful to avoid disturbing the stones and causing more issues for the suffering woman - she studied the situation for a moment before looking up to Anevia. “My parents told me a few stories about the Eagle’s Watch and the involvement of you and your husband with them. It is nice to be able to put a face to the name, although I wish we had met under more pleasant circumstances. If there is any way in which I can assist you before you are healed, please let me know.”

She glanced towards Krystiel for a moment to see if moving the stones would be acceptable or not. She wasn’t nearly as strong as any of her brothers, but they couldn’t leave her trapped either. That was just wrong. “Also, if you do not mind me asking, sir Aravashnial, but who are you? Lord Gwerm is clearly a noble of importance,” or at least one who thought of himself as important and had to be of some importance for the other two to not argue with him, “but your name is unfortunately unfamiliar to me. No offence intended, of course, I merely share your desire to know a bit about the ones who are present and alive.”

Krystiel

Krystiel’s eyes moved quickly between where this Anevia sat and where the noble huddled over as if he were in the last moments of his life.  Truthfully, there was no blood near him, and while he did have a few cuts and a mark on his arm that was starting to develop into the beginnings of a large bruise, he didn’t look seriously injured.  She bit one corner of her lower lip, trying to figure out the best move for her to take next.  Upon hearing Eshera’s comment, she nodded towards the other woman thankfully.  “Yes,” Krystiel said, letting her relief touch her voice.  “Be very careful with the pieces of rubble though, and if you fear anything may be too heavy to move easily, tell me and I will have K’seri assist you.”  She gestured absentmindedly towards where the snow leopard lay cleaning the last remnants of battle from her claws.  “I will be with you as soon as I attend Lord Gwerm’s injuries, lady Anevia.”

She fixed her face into the expression that she always used when tending to men who didn’t have a wife or other woman beside them, a small sparkle in her eyes, a smile with just a bit of the flirt in it.  “Now, good sir,” she murmured, kneeling beside the unknown lord at an angle that gave him plenty of chances to peer down into her cleavage.  “Allow me to see what I may do for your pains.”  From the gleam in the man’s eyes, her breasts were already helping those “pains” a little.  Krystiel ran her hands over the various places he claimed to be injured, finding nothing at all of any real importance.    “Here, my lord, let me get these injuries cleaned up and bandaged.”

“Bandaged? I just saw you use some kind of healing spell on that damned conspiracy theorist over there.  I require healing, I tell you!”

Krystiel turned down the simpering smile into wide-eyed innocence.  “Yes, my lord, I did.  However, I feel that your wounds might best be tended with this salve I’ve made for easing pains.  Surely your lordship would not want me to be out of magical resources should you unfortunately come into contact with some sort of dangerous creature?  Surely my lord can be brave enough to suffer through these small pains after they have been treated with this soothing ointment in order that I may be prepared in case of danger to your lordship?”  They all loved the big, blue-eyed innocent look when she appealed to their dignity.  Men.

With a bit of hmmming and hrmmming, he allowed her to rub the salve over the little cuts, and treat the bruise with a touch of numbing oil.  She bandaged him up, gave him one of her most scintillating smiles, and rose to see how her last patient was doing.

Dice
Diplomacy to warm up Gwerm's temper: 1d20=16+12=yes. Lord Gwerm is now friendly. Anevia remains indifferent for the second.

GM

Anevia shifted a little as Eshera came over towards her, pressing her back more firmly against the rough stone against which she leaned, freeing her hand to offer to shake hands. At Eshera’s comment regarding stories of the Eagle Watch and her “husband”, Anevia gave a quick laugh that threatened to turn into a gasp, but a hint of amusement shone in her eyes. “So you’ve heard of my husband, you say?” she said, a pained smile lurking around the corners of her mouth. “You’re the first to do so then, I must say. My wife Irabeth is in charge of Eagle Watch, and I do what I can to assist her. Scouting and such things.” She shrugged a little, settling her hand quickly back on the ground to help support her weight as soon as the handshaking is finished.

Anevia kept her lips pressed tightly together as Eshera began to shift the pieces of rock trapping her leg, even using her free arm to help roll one particularly stubborn bit off of her calf. Her face went a bit white, but not a single sound of complaint made it past those tightly compressed lips. “You have my thanks,” she said when the leg was free, though she made no move to stand up. “You serve the Inheritor? My wife would probably like to make your acquaintance.”

Once Anevia was free, Aravashnial filled in the momentary quiet by answering Eshera’s question of a few moments prior. “Myself?” he asked, trying to raise one eyebrow in the burned mess of his face, which did look a little better after Krystiel’s spell. “I work with the researchers at the Librarium of the Broken Black Wing, which you young ones seem determined to refer to simply as Blackwing. I am a conjurer of some small ability. It is good to hear that you have some experience on the field of battle. You will take point then, when we are moving. May the Storm Lord rot forever in the Abyss! I need my sight if I am to guide you to the best of my abilities! I doubt the little healer girl can fix my eyes, more’s the pity.” Sighing, he shook his head, but did sit up straight. “We should be moving along, I believe. We need to get back to the surface as soon as possible.”

Eshera

“Ah, my apologies,” an embarrassed smile crept around her lips, as she started the careful task of removing the rocks. “I was young when my mother used you as an example in her friendly bickering with my father, and when she mentioned you were married to the leader of Eagle Watch I just assumed it was a marriage similar to that of my parents. I fear I never realised my wrong assumption upon hearing more tales of that group.” At least Anevia didn’t seem too offended by it. “I would be honoured to meet your wife.”

After hearing Aravashnial words and instructions, she lightly inclined her head. “As you wish, sir Aravashnial.” Considering that Krystiel was better suited at fighting from a distance and the condition of the other survivors, taking the lead so she could hopefully keep any enemy from reaching them was already what she had intended. But there was little reason to point that out. “I agree that it would be safer to depart from here, although I would prefer it if Krystiel had a chance to look everyone over first. Just so we know what to keep in mind while travelling and potentially fighting.”

Despite Anevia claiming earlier that she was mostly fine and not complaining about the pain, she doubted her injuries were as light as that. The leg being the obvious cause of trouble, but there might be other injuries due to falling debris. And, for now, there was no immediate danger in this room from which they had to escape.