Awful
   THAT BITTER OLD KING
CHAPTER ONE: THE TEETH OF JACKALS

   OOC   
 
 Jegger, Joan, Bijou 

The way into New Zarian doesn't feel right. Skirting the hills, the road from Little Bluerock curved gently up towards the river. Several days travel, and normally you'd see at least one or two others walking the path. But the land seems bare, the animals warier, the stopping-houses built around the little wells along the way deserted and in disarray. At night, strange howls and yips fill the dark, like no coyotes you've ever heard.

You've been fortunate enough to find each other - a little cluster of you heading the same way. Seems smarter to stick together.

Something - somethings, rather - have been watching you on the trail. Distant figures, far enough away distance eats any detail, and enough time for them to scatter away before you could get close.

Now, five days of tense travel later, the town's come into sight - but something seems wrong. There's a crowd gathered in the fields, and they don't looks happy. Anxiety carves their faces into grimaces. More than a few have weapons, openly carried, bows or spears. They've noticed, you, too, and a movement goes through the crowd. Nearby, dead horses have been dragged into a pile.

You're not quite in earshot, yet, so you have time to react.


-----


 Rathoran, Ganiz


 The day begins with a funeral. The sun sits sullenly overhead, a hot eye in a fiercely blue and cloudless sky. It's not quite midday, and the heat is fierce.

Poor Jonas. Kid didn't deserve what he got.

Last night something attacked the inn - or at least, the stables. Tore open the door. Tore open the horses. Tore open the kid, too, when he got in its way, left him broken and bled in the hay.

Jonas' parents had got the red fever a few years back, so had he, but he'd lived and they hadn't. Barely into his manhood, he'd worked in the stables to make his way, suddenly alone in the world. He'd had a gift for horses. They'd calmed right down in his hands.

The townsfolk are clustered around his grave, a slot hacked out the sandy soil next to the gourd fields, where tight knots of vines clench like fists around orange-shelled squashes. Their faces are grim or grieving. Everyone had felt there was something wrong in the hills. There was a feeling of it. In the air, in the turgid flow of the lazy river. People locked their doors at night and slept with one eye open. Then that ranger had arrived, saying something was there, something dangerous, and that had settled the matter.

 Jonas had slept in the stables, pitchfork in hand. He'd wanted to protect the horses, in case something felt like a bite of horseflesh. By the time the screams had stopped and people had spilled out their buildings, clutching torches and knives and rusty axes, it'd been too late for the kid. Whatever had killed him was already gone into the dusk.

The Mayor is an old, old man, and dust and sun have shrivelled him up like a dried apple. He peers down at the grave, his eyes two moist dots in the crevices of his face. One hand trembles on the top of his walking stick. The other has his hat scrunched against his chest. He'd wheezed a few words as they'd laid the kid down.

The bodies of the horses aren't that far off. No one's decided what to do with them. Not much wood to burn them with, but their wounds are seeping with a black ichor. No one wants to risk eating that. Even the flies, normally keen for a meal, seem to be staying away.

A murmur goes through the crowd, and then, louder:

"Look! Strangers!"

Sure enough, a small cluster of humanoid figures are approaching you. Sunlight glints off their armour.

The crowd almost seems to shiver. Children are pushed back, away. The blacksmith grips her hammer tighter. Men half-raise the rusty old spears they pulled out of storage.

The figures aren't quite in earshot, not yet, so you have time to react.
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Takings in Little Bluerock were good; for once Bijou is sitting on a decent pile of coins and some of it isn't even copper. She split a leotard doing the flywalk, and most of the trip she's sat on the cart gazing out between the ears of Molly the mule and turning the rough silk into wraps and ropes and bindings. It's too expensive to waste, and there's nothing wrong with looking a little bit of a magpie. Not in her line of work.

For a while she'd gotten off and walked, stretching her legs and putting a few more miles on her well-worn boots, but Molly is unsettled and so is she. Besides, sitting she can play, and playing is a way to be a good neighbor when you're travelling in company. Especially company in arms and armor. Bijou doesn't need either, but she sleeps with six feet of oak wrapped in silk rags for gripping close to hand.

Most of the way she's kept it lively, keeping the company laughing and stoking their spirits against the dark; her lute of illusions accompanying the songs with shining bubbles or dancing sparks of color.

 
 Spoiler: 🎶Twiddles 
  Oh you hear a lot of stories 'bout the sailors and their sport
About how every sailor has a girl in every port
But if you added 2 and 2 you'd figure out right quick
It's just because the girls all have a lad on every ship

And it's Twiddle ee ai dee ai dee ai
Twiddle ee ai dee ei
It's often times a man will leave you broken with dismay

And it's Twiddle ee ai dee ai dee ai
Twiddle ee ai dee ei
There's other things to twiddle when the men have sailed away  
 

But as the town heaves into view, the somber mood is clear, and without a blink she transitions into a minor key and tamps the illusions away. She does not sing the words to the grim, old song that crosses her mind, but there's no doubt many who know it. She keeps her eyes skinned for an inn where she can sing for her supper, and tries not to meet any grieving eyes.

 
 Spoiler: 🎶I Hear Them All 
  I hear the crying of the hungry in the deserts where they're wandering
Hear them crying out for Heaven's own benevolence upon them
Hear destructive power prevailin', I hear fools falsely hailin'
To the crooked wits of tyrants when they call

I hear them all, I hear them all, I hear them all  
 
agignac
Joan marched along beside the cart, sweating in her chainmail, as she'd been doing for a few days. Her first day out of Blue Littlerock (or did she have that reversed?), she'd caught up to the dark-skinned musician in the mule-pulled cart. At first she'd merely nodded a curt but polite greeting, and made to keep walking at her slightly faster pace. But the woman's silly song had entranced her, and she found herself dawdling to listen, and eventually made the proper introductions.

The strange coyotes yipped in the night, setting her teeth on edge, and having somebody to share a fire with was just good sense. When they'd come upon the man, Jegger, the next day, it had seemed natural to include him in their small travelling band.

Despite the deeply unsettling landscape, Joan found herself enjoying the journey. Most of the places she travelled were unsettling, and it was nice to have company. Bijou had a seemingly endless repertoire of songs, many of which Joan found herself humming late at night, while the stars shone distantly in the heavens. She fingered her mother's cracked flute, which she hadn't had the heart to throw away, and wondered if her mother had known any of these songs.

As they finally came upon the town, it seemed they'd come to late to prevent some sort of unpleasantness. A group of townsfolk, and an unnatural pile of dead horses. Killed by predators? Disease? This didn't look like a feast.

Stopping mid-stride, Joan assessed herself and her weapons. Helm firmly on head, covering her short, filthy hair - check. Chainmail armour, of a style quite different from what the local militias wore, marking her as a foreigner - check. Warhammer in her right hand, resting on her shoulder - check. Backpack - currently in Bijou's cart. Shield, blue with white stylized angel, also in the cart. She considered grabbing her shield, but didn't want to appear hostile and spook the townsfolk.

Glancing across at Bijou (at 6'3" she didn't need to look up at the woman in the small cart), she murmured,   "Do you want to do the talking?"
  
Kushina43
Rathoran hadn't gotten to know Jonas well - kept her distance from most after her warning stoked the populace's paranoia - but the few times she had, it was clear he was a kid doing his best to get out of a terrible circumstance, overheard talks of him surviving an illness his parents had not all but confirming that.  She showed up at the funeral out of respect, trying to keep a median distance from "close enough to entice conversation" and "far enough to be spying."  Was this the all-important Wheel being cruel, she wondered, or is the source of this scourge outside of those tales the elders told?

The Mayor said his words, but already Rathoran had turned inward, and began speaking quietly to herself to connect some thoughts.   "Black ichor on the wounds is entirely unfamiliar..  Even the dead eaters decide to stay away.  Maybe once this gathering disperses I'll try and gather a sample.."   Snapping her out of this self-imposed trance is her little serpent Tira, flitting in front of her face close enough to reflect each other's eyes, and she holds out a hand for her to coil around.   "Dearest little Tira, you find anything else?"   The flying snake looks over at the horses, then to the anomaly that brought them here.   "Is it the same thing, or is the anomaly too much for you to tell the difference?  The one time I regret not learning animal speak..."   She slumps her shoulders briefly, then allows Tira to perch on her shoulder.   "You did your best, so it's my-" 

However, once the Mayor has finished, a murmur through the crowd followed by a shout interrupt her.  Sure enough, there's a group of people making their way here, all armored up as adventurers often do.  All the townsfolk start taking up arms and hiding their weak, paranoia in full display.  She considers leaving them to it, only to realize this could go south and heave an exaggerated sigh.   "Tira, let's make ourselves useful in a way that's  not  accidental doomsaying and get out there."   the snake makes no protest, so she strolls through the crowd from behind and offers to meet these new people halfway herself, both as a show of good faith toward and additional protection from these strangers.  And in her mind, not being a local probably makes the latter more palatable for the crowd, too.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  55/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  - 
 Raging: - 
 Reckless: - 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 
  Days Earlier  

Jegger leans over and helps Gendo find the tree stump to sit down. The old man had been leaning on Jegger for the latter half of the day's journey, and he could use the seat in the shade,   I got it,  I got it ! Get yer hands off me!   Jegger put his hands up, his palms showing, to placate the crotchety old man, and let Gendo settle in,   I aint crippled, boy,   Gendo snaps, before falling into a fit of coughing. Two years have passed since Gendo collapsed in the fields with a fever. Weeks passed before he recovered, but he had never fully recovered. Always coughing, fatigued, and sometimes wracked with body pain. Gendo's physical deterioration took a mental toll on the man, who often took it out on Jegger. Gendo taught everything he knew to Jegger about fighting, survival, and resilience. It was more than Gendo could bear to have these things slowly leave his body, and have to rely on Jegger, the boy he raised.

Jegger watches the man endure the latest coughing fit, but he knows better than to go to his side. He has learned his lesson well. He turns and surveys the land they still have to cover to get to New Zarian. They probably should have been there by now, but with Gendo's condition, the moving was slow.

  Well, this is a good place as any to camp. I don't know about you but I can finish the day here.  
  I don't need yer pity boy.  
  Hey, you're not the only one that's tired old man. I've been carrying your bag o' bones for hours now! That thick skull of yours is heavy.  
  Listen here, I taught you everything you know. Don't think this cough will sto---,   Gendo freezes and his eyes fixate on something behind Jegger. Jegger whirls around, one hand to his sword hilt, the other out wide to shield Gendo.

Back behind them on the trail, two women appear with a mule and cart. One is singing as the other hums along. Someone has been tracking their progress to New Zarian, folks deep in the hills watching them from the horizon. Jegger and Gendo have both been on edge, waiting for the attack to come. Is this the distraction? As one, Gendo scans the terrain to their right, while Jegger looks for the attack coming to their left. Nothing. Moments pass as the women get closer. Jegger's grip on his sword hilt loosens and turns into a wave,   Oi, I'm Jegger.  
  Arriving to New Zarian  

The last several days have gone easier since meeting Bijou and Joan. Joan is an armored warrior, as tall as Jegger and just as strong. The man was sure whatever has been tracking them would have attacked, but maybe seeing Joan and Jegger together had made them reconsider.

Bijou had really turned things around with Gendo. He liked her songs and he'd hum along and tap his foot while she played and sang. Sometimes she'd share the space on the cart with him, or she'd walk and let him ride. Even when he was walking, if she'd play the tunes he seemed more capable to keep up. Sometime after his sickness, Gendo stopped liking Jegger. It pained Jegger, but he accepted it. As long as the old man was okay, he could be mad at Jegger, could blame him or resent him or vent at him. Jegger was up to it. But Bijou, Gendo seemed to like Bijou, she made the old man crack a smile again at times, and sometimes he got to storytelling about his life. The last five days had somehow lifted much of the weight of the last two years.

But now they can see New Zarian, and the picture is less than hopeful. A crowd, weather-worn and grim, has gathered, dead horses piled up nearby. Some are armed, enough to be a problem. A murmur goes through the townsfolk as they see Jegger and the others.

Joan murmurs to Bijou,   Do you want to do the talking?  
  A good idea,   Jegger says. He waves his arms to ease some of the tension and let the townsfolk know they aren't trying to hide anything.   Maybe they need help?   He begins walking forward. 
 
  
The Hellbug
Anger.    The fool boy never should have been out there.  Burying horses is bad; burying teenagers is a nightmare.  

Sorrow.    No one should die that young, had a whole life ahead of him.  Stepped out of one death and right into another.  

Guilt.   You knew he was worried about the horses.  You could have talked to him; he wouldn't have been able to sneak a stunt like this past you.  

Relief.    At least he wasn't one of mine.  

Ganiz swallows a wave of self-loathing at the last of these thoughts but is unable to drive it out of his mind completely.  It's not strictly true, either.  Ever since Jonas's parents' deaths, he'd lived with his uncle but spent most of his time working at the stables, Adela's stables, the stables Ganiz was supposed to be in charge of.  Like it or not, the two were as responsible for him as anyone was.  And Marsau had looked up to him, almost like an older brother.  Ganiz can't hold back a wave of tears as he notices his son's sobbing again.  He puts a weathered hand on his shoulder just as he feels Adela squeeze his hand.  A shake of her head communicates 'this ain't right' and the former caravan guard is forced to consider that she has even more feelings bound up in all this--she had known Jonas's parents much better than he had before the red fever claimed them.  He wipes the tears from his eyes--it's a good thing they'd left Jacma and Chloe back home with their grandmother; Ganiz is sure that if they'd been here, he wouldn't have been able to keep it together.

And then there's the horses, too.  That's the problem on Ganiz's mind--that ichor was surely not anything natural--when the murmurs in the crowd announce the strangers' arrival.  Seeing some of the other residents of New Zarian tighten their hold on anything that could be a weapon, Ganiz gets Adela's attention.    "Hey, one of us should go check on how the girls are doing,"   he suggests and gestures with his head toward their son,   "and take Marsau with--looks like things might start looking ugly around here."  

His wife nods and whispers something to their son then turns to embrace Ganiz.  "Stay safe, alright?" 
  "I'll see both of you soon."  

Once his family is on their way, Ganiz gathers his composure and gets out in front of the aggressive-looking townsfolk, waving for them to lower their arms.    "Let's all just hear what they have to say, eh?"   he says diplomatically,   "probably just honest folk with bad timing."  
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16


 Joan murmurs to Bijou,  Do you want to do the talking? 
 A good idea,  Jegger says. He waves his arms to ease some of the tension and let the townsfolk know they aren't trying to hide anything.  Maybe they need help?  He begins walking forward. 

Bijou nods, and hands her lute to the old man Gendo. She leaves behind her walking stick too. Her companions are both over six foot; Bijou, just under five, should make a stark and harmless contrast, and taking a potential weapon would spoil that.

She vaults from the seat of the cart, doing a neat tumble over Molly-mule's back, just keep her hand in, and walks towards the woman who emerged from the crowd. Roughly dressed, more like another wanderer than a peasant, and just as tall as Jegger and Joan. Thankfully the intimidating woman is joined by a more obvious townie; Bijou directs her address to him, and tries to act as if being met by the whole town clutching weapons is routine.

 "Hail and well-met, I am Bijou Terpsichore,"  she says. The odds that they know her mother's name out here are slim, but always worth playing. Odeon Terpsichore left an impression where ever she went.  "Entertainer, brewer, and vessel of many muses. I walk these dusty roads and cruel hills to bring what comfort I can--old tales, silly songs, dancing and tumbling. I apologize that my arrival intrudes on what seems to be a bad time."  She bows, doffing her shapeless green hat.

 "Along the road I fell in with these folk, and a strong shield-arm is surely a blessing in these dark days. I cannot vouch my honor for their good conduct, for we are only chance-companions, but they haven't robbed or murdered me yet."  She smiles at her own joke.  "In addition to these fine young half-giants, there is also an old man, weary from the road... I would gladly trade my skills for a place to rest, as is my way. Can you point us to an inn?" 
Kushina43
Convincing the people to let her through was a trifling matter, especially after the innkeeper's husband went to lessen hostility.  She was thankful for the assistance - hard to negotiate for a town when you're not part of it with no one behind you - but made sure to stay ahead on the approach in case the new arrivals were less than savory.  While the new arrivals are still out of earshot, she speaks to the man  "Ganiz, right?  Appreciate the support.  Let's see what these folk got to say, eh?" 

She listens to Bijou introduce herself, giving a chuckle at her joke, and responds enthusiastically.   "Ah, an entertainer!  Just what this town needs, pleasure to make your acquaintance.  Rathoran Dhodom, at your service.  Bit of a visitor to town myself, but some late goings-on have left them quite wary.  Come, let us greet you properly."   She waves at the crowd hoping to show the travelers mean no harm, and escorts Bijou the short distance to Ganiz seeing as the innkeeper had left.   "Bijou here's part of a group of four just looking for a place to stay, no reason to be alarmed.  Would your inn have the room?" 
The Hellbug
  "Mhm,"   Ganiz grunts in assent to Rathoran.  He knows it's unfair, but he'd love to see the ranger gone from New Zarian.  Without her doomsaying, Jonas never would have been out in those stables in the first place.    "And maybe without stirring up a bee hive this time, traveler,"   he adds in barely more than whisper, not bothering to hide his hostility.

--

When she returns with the new arrivals, Ganiz is more polite but still terse.    "We do, but you're gonna to have to share rooms,"   he answers straightforwardly,   "and you'd best be on your way in the morning.  Honestly, I'd tell you to keep moving now if you know what's good for ya, but there's no way a night on the roads out there is safe right now.  You've got coin for it, of course?  Can't afford charity at the moment.  If you don't, I'd offer a spot in the stables but..."   he gestures towards the horse corpses   "...you might be better off taking your chances on the road."  
agignac
Joan steps forward at the inn-keeper's "welcome". Despite the sweat and dirt covering her, she smells faintly of lavender.

  "We have coin,"   she assures him. Her voice is rough, and quieter than one might expect. The quality of her voice is explained by the ring of scar tissue around her throat. (The demon had tried to strangle her with its barbed tail. It had failed.)  " We also have steel. The Wheel has brought us, able and willing to fight, to this place of recent violence. Perhaps it will be our place to aid you, before we move on."  

The tall paladin speaks with a strange cadence, something not quite right, but hard to pinpoint. What is clear - with her fair skin, bright blue eyes, and strange armour - is that she's not from anywhere around here.
TriciaOso
 "As for me, I've little enough of either coin or steel,"  says Bijou.  "But I have beer, and news from Little Bluerock and points beyond, and stories and songs and all manner of entertainment to trade." 
Dr.Samurai
When Jonas returns with the new arrivals, Ganiz is more polite but still terse.   "We do, but you're gonna to have to share rooms,"   he answers straightforwardly,   "and you'd best be on your way in the morning. Honestly, I'd tell you to keep moving now if you know what's good for ya, but there's no way a night on the roads out there is safe right now. You've got coin for it, of course? Can't afford charity at the moment. If you don't, I'd offer a spot in the stables but..."   he gestures towards the horse corpses   "...you might be better off taking your chances on the road."  
  Anything you can offer will do,   Jegger says quietly, distracted by the horse corpses,   Any idea what did that? Doesn't look like an animal that was feeding...  
The Hellbug
Ganiz nods and beckons for the travelers to follow.    "Then let's get you all out of the sun,"   he says as he turns and begins to lead them to the inn, waving off the other townsfolk.  As he passes the dead horses, he spares them a glance and mutters under his breath,   "no it doesn't."  

The inn is on the main road through the center of town, a two story adobe building with sign above the door reading 'Tumbleweed Inn.'  Ganiz leads the new arrivals through the open doorway into a relatively spacious but low-ceilinged and dimly lit room set with eight small tables and a bar alongside one wall.  The walls are decorated with a handful of painted landscapes.  Behind the counter is a woman in her early 40s with tanned skin, brown hair swept back with a bandana starting to go to grey, and wrinkles under her eyes from the desert sun.    "Adela, we have guests,"   Ganiz announces, and her gaze lingers over each of the travelers for a moment before a patter of footsteps from the kitchen behind her catches her attention and a girl in a simple dress whizzes out from behind the counter, making a beeline straight for Ganiz.

 "Daddy!"  she calls out, rushing to embrace her father,  "I'm soo booored, mom says I can't go outside." 
  "Jacma!,"   Ganiz replies, reaching down to tussle her frizzy hair,   "And she's right, not without an adult, but you can help me go draw water for our guests."    He nods to his wife before stepping out the back door, his daughter close on his heels.

The woman behind the counter turns her attention fully to the guests once again.   "Welcome to the Tumbleweed Inn, name's Adela,"  she begins,  "we only have two rooms open at the moment and they'll be three silver pieces a night, upstairs, the two at the end of the hall.  Cistern's out back" --she gestures to the doorway Ganiz exited through-- "if you need to wash the dust off.  Can I get anything for you?  Water?  Heated for tea?" 
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Bijou gives the girl a wave and a smile.  "I'll cover us for now,"  she tells her companions, and hands Ganiz's wife a silver penny and one of the odd electrum pieces she's collected.

 "There's a mule that needs stabling,"  she says.  "And there's some small beer I've brewed along the way, if you'd be willing to serve it. It's nothing special, but a change is good as a rest, they say. I don't need anything else right now." 

Once Molly-mule is safely stowed away and the earthen jug behind the bar, she finds a corner table and gets comfortable. Soon gentle music is trickling out of the open archway and into the street.

 
 Spoiler: 🎶Jolene 
  Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I'm begging of you please don't take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don't take him just because you can

Your beauty is beyond compare
With flaming locks of auburn hair
With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green
Your smile is like a breath of spring
Your voice is soft like summer rain
And I cannot compete with you
Jolene

He talks about you in his sleep
And there's nothing I can do to keep
From crying when he calls your name
Jolene

And I can easily understand
How you could easily take my man
But you don't know what he means to me
Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I'm begging of you please don't take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don't take him just because you can

You could have your choice of men
But I could never love again
He's the only one for me
Jolene

I had to have this talk with you
My happiness depends on you
And whatever you decide to do
Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I'm begging of you please don't take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don't take him even though you can
Jolene, Jolene  
 
Awful
The townsfolk, upon the reveal that the strangers had not come to finish the rest of them off, are somewhat mollified. Something of an embarrassed shuffle shivers through them, as weapons are lowered and people mutter to each other. The Mayor nods thoughtfully, and slowly the crowd begins to fragment, returning to their own businesses. Crops still have to be tended, clothes mended, meals cooked - even if no one heads out too far.

---

Inside the Tumbleweed Inn, the dim and cool are a pleasant respite from the desert sun. Drinks are provided, and the heat of a long morning in the sun begins to fade even as the temperature outside climbs towards the zenith.

A stray sand-cat, as if drawn by the music, wanders in, curling up in a corner. Adela shoos it half-heartedly; it yawns at her, and settles down to watch the group with half-shut yellow eyes.

Similarly so do a small cluster of people enter, refugees from the dust of the Dry. Ganiz would recognise them as, as far as the town has it, the leaders of the small settlement.

The mayor, furrowed with time and preceded with the bone-clacks of his walking stick. He sinks into a seat gratefully, easing himself in with the careworn slowness of the man long past his prime.

Fair, the blacksmith. She's a broad-shouldered woman, with sweat-trails in the fine ash coating on her forehead, and in a heavy leather apron with a few hefty hammers shoved through the belt. She, too, is preceded by noise:, one of her legs is a prosthetic of iron and wood from the knee down, and it gives her a slightly lopsided walk.

Tarrin Alcay ran the general store in town, and perhaps the only one who could be rightly described as portly. His wide, flat features seem good-natured, his clothes a little finer than most of the other folk in town.

And the fourth: Simon Morrow - or, as it seems everyone in New Zarian refers to him, the good doctor. He, for his part, is quiet, nodding politely to the strangers in their midst and murmuring greetings to the owner. He's a tall, spiny man, with a neat if greying goatee and slender, gold rimmed spectacles.

Each introduces themselves in turn, before the Mayor turns the conversation onto what was clearly on the town's collective mind.

"So, strangers," he says. His voice is old and husky, gnarled like an old tree. "Did you have trouble on your journey here? Just last night - why, we had an awful time of it lately. Awful time."
The Hellbug
 Before the arrival 

Before Ganiz even finishes retrieving water, Adela sends Marsau to head him off and finish what he set out to do--there's a mule that needs seeing to and no one else is going into those stables if Ganiz can help it.  He finds Bijou's mule out front and patiently leads her into a clean stall, gently coaxing the animal at the door when she senses that something bad has happened here recently.  After setting her up with feed and water, Ganiz stares at the busted door of one of the pens--impossible to tell whether it was a spooked horse or whatever got in last night that did that.  Those armed strangers have provoked his curiosity a little; he tries to make out the prints of whatever beast was there last night among the chaos.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
I'll roll survival, tell me if it's something different or feel free to ignore if there's nothing to be gleaned.
Survival:  (1d20+8)[ 14 ] 
 

 After the Mayor and folks arrive 

When Ganiz gets back from the stables, he settles in a rocking chair in the corner of the inn's main room, out of the heat.  Soon, attracted by the music, another younger girl, clearly another daughter, enters, and he coaxes her over to his lap where she plays with a simple cloth doll while he hums along with the music absentmindedly.  As the locals start filtering in though, he acknowledges each of them and sets her down, moving to offer whatever refreshment they normally favor to each before settling back in the corner.
agignac
 Bijou gives the girl a wave and a smile. "I'll cover us for now," she tells her companions, and hands Ganiz's wife a silver penny and one of the odd electrum pieces she's collected. 

Joan looks up in surprise, touched by the act of generosity.   "My thanks,"   she said.   "I'll cover us for later."  

She sat upright in her seat, happy with clean water to drink. Her waterskin had gotten sand in it at some point, and she'd been drinking gritty water for days. When the cat made itself at home, she stared at it with narrow eyes. Cats were often familiars of demons, and she warned the animal, speaking in the language of her father,   "These people are under my protection, beast; warn your master if you have one."  

The woman who had accompanied the innkeeper earlier entered and took a seat. Joan glanced at her, then took a double-take - she had a viper on her shoulder! Standing abruptly, she approached the woman slowly, her hand extending to grab the dangerous creature. In a low voice, she said,   "Hold very still, there's a snake in your hair."  
Dr.Samurai
Jegger chuckles nervously when Bijou pays for them,   Ahaha... I'll get the next one of course.   He shoots Gendo a nervous glance and the old man returns a disappointed frown.

A handful of locals file in to sit, joining the mayor in addressing the newcomers. Jegger stays standing, feeling more comfortable on his feet in a room full of strangers.

The Mayor turns the conversation onto what was clearly on the town's collective mind.

"So, strangers," he says. His voice is old and husky, gnarled like an old tree. "Did you have trouble on your journey here? Just last night - why, we had an awful time of it lately. Awful time."

  We had the Fool's Luck not to get attacked on the way here. Folk were watching along the way, keeping track of our progress. But they never came much closer than the hills along the road. Couldn't make out who they were.

Any notion of what got your horses?  
Kushina43
 
 Originally Posted by agignac 
 The woman who had accompanied the innkeeper earlier entered and took a seat. Joan glanced at her, then took a double-take - she had a viper on her shoulder! Standing abruptly, she approached the woman slowly, her hand extending to grab the dangerous creature. In a low voice, she said,   "Hold very still, there's a snake in your hair."   
 

Rathoran sat down to relax - all these people here, she'd gather that ichor sample later on - when the armored woman stood rather abruptly and warned her of the snake, reaching a hand out slowly.  She felt Tira tense up as the stranger reached closer, her wings stretching out to look bigger, and rather than chance a retaliation Rathoran quickly put up her own hand to gently bat away Joan's.   "I appreciate the concern, madam, truly, but Tira here is my companion - hatched her from an egg myself."   The snake folds up its wings and moves herself to Rathoran's other shoulder, then slides into her clothing from her neck to hide in her sleeve.   "Figure it's just good manners to keep her out in the open when she wants, rather than concealed like some poison weapon.  She's quite well trained."   Showing this off herself, she clicks her tongue once and Tira pokes her head out of her neckline before retreating back in.

She turns to Jegger for his tale and nods to show she's listening.   "Hm.  I take it their manner of dress was not similar to mine."  More a statement than a question, considering the lack of recognition.    Unless it was bandits with more lust for coin than sense, I know not who else would be in the desert to watch you so intently without more pressing survival concerns."   She leaves the horse question to the locals, avoiding mention of such problems for the moment to avoid unjust suspicion.
agignac
 
 Originally Posted by Kushina43 
   "I appreciate the concern, madam, truly, but Tira here is my companion - hatched her from an egg myself."   The snake folds up its wings and moves herself to Rathoran's other shoulder, then slides into her clothing from her neck to hide in her sleeve.   "Figure it's just good manners to keep her out in the open when she wants, rather than concealed like some poison weapon.  She's quite well trained."   Showing this off herself, she clicks her tongue once and Tira pokes her head out of her neckline before retreating back in. 
 

Joan froze and stared at the little winged snake, her eyes wide.   "It's your pet?! "  she blurted, unable to conceal her shock. The thought of having a limbless reptile slithering around in her clothes - the paladin repressed a shudder. Then she remembered the hairy spider she'd had as a child, and how she'd cried when her mother had squashed it with a shoe.   'To each her own, said the old lady kissing the cow', as Nana used to say.  

Pressing her palms together, she raised them to her heart as she inclined her head forward in greeting.   "Well met, little Tira, and my apologies. I did not intend to insult."   She repeated the gesture to the snake's owner, then said,   "I am Joan Brighton. It is good to meet you."  

***

As Jegger began to speak to the officials, Joan sat quietly and let him do the talking.
Awful
 The stables 

The stables smell of hay, the spoor of terrified horses, and the rusting ruin of poor Jonas.

The floor - hay-strewn dirt - didn't hold tracks well, especially with the people in and put to drag out the horses and carry out the corpse. Whatever clues might have been there have already been trampled away.

You're about to turn and leave when something drips besides you. A filthy black splot, from...
You look up. The tip of a spine or spike is lodged in the roof of the stable.

Horses are tall, needing a lot of room. You imagine some indistinct monster rearing up, spikes brushing the ceiling, getting lodged in the timber like a splinter in a finger.

Whatever did this was big, and fast, and quiet enough to sneak into town and not be heard until the killing time came.

Not an easy job to pretty up news like that.


 Tumbleweed Inn 

The cat opened its golden eyes a little at the aasimar's words, the flowing cadence of Angels.

For a long moment, it watches Jean. One ear twitches.

Then it yawns, with the magnificent dismissal inherent to feline kind, and seems to go to sleep.

The Mayor shakes his head at Jegger's question. He twists his hands on the head of his staff anxiously.
"As far as I know," he says, and pauses to take a sip of his tea, "We know dust-all. From what you say, it must be based in the hills."

Fair folds her arms. She had no drink, simply sitting down heavily. When she speaks, her voice is a low rumble, with a heavy clipped accent. She gives the mayor a meaningful glance.
"Something from the mounds?"

"Maybe, maybe," he murmurs in return, "But there would be a reason, if so."

"What I want to know," interjects the portly merchant in the room. He had a glass of watered wine - perhaps permissible, since he was the one who sold Adela it in the first place. "is why they'd have the boldness to attack right in town but not a few strangers out on the path, miles from help?"
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

 "If you're sure what watched us along the road is the same as what came into your village, then you know more than we do, sir,"  Bijou says mildly.

 "But if it was -- it came into the town, but it attacked horses, not three strapping folk with bright steel. Maybe it sneaks well but doesn't fancy a head-on fight."  She looks at the sandcat.  "A cat'll go into a grain silo with people all around to get at rats, but it won't pick a fight with a dog, let alone three." 
The Hellbug
  "Maybe, but this ain't a cat or a dog,"   Ganiz finally speaks up as he steps forward and drops what looks like the wicked tip of a spine slimy with the same black ichor from the horses onto the table,   "I had another look around the stable, found that lodged in one of the rafters.  Never seen anything like it.  Might have been thrown, but I didn't find any others like it and the horses didn't have any in them.  Way I see it, whatever it was reared up and scraped it off overhead.  If so, whatever it is is  big ; no one or thing in that stable ever stood a chance.  And no one saw or heard it coming, either."    Ganiz steps back and leans against the wall, his arms crossed.    "What do you mean 'something from the mounds'?"  
Dr.Samurai
Jegger's eyes narrow on the quill when Ganiz produces it. He picks it up from the table and tests the point, before setting it back down and wiping the ichor off on his pants,   It knows better than to attack fully armed and armored travelers. It attacked at night, and the rafters gave it a go and knocked a quill off before it left.

It's the Fool's bet we can kill this thing if we find it.  

At Ganiz's question, Jegger looks at Fair, waiting for her answer.
agignac
Joan reached a hand out in alarm, to stop Jegger from touching the quill, but was too slow. She knew only too well that one had to be extremely cautious when touching or interacting any spoor of evil. She looked carefully at the quill without touching it, wondering if she'd ever seen anything like it before.

nature  (1d20-1)[ 9 ] 
Kushina43
Ratharon studies the quill, looking all around it with keen interest, and careful not to touch it directly.   "Fascinating...  Certainly not a creature I've seen before."  She considers taking out her dagger and a flask to gather a sample of the ichor right then and there, but with so many people here it's surely going to be misunderstood by  someone .  She will wait for everyone to go to sleep, maybe check out the stables.  In the meantime, she agrees with Jegger's logic.  "I'm in agreement there - it attacked horses and Jonas silently at night.  That doesn't preclude strength in the wild, but such behavior does mean that it will be disadvantaged in open combat.  That they didn't strike you all only bolsters that reasoning.  I say we look for a trail and track it, finish this thing before it kills again." 
Dr.Samurai
Jegger's eyebrows raise,   Jonas? Did he see what this thing looked like or which way it took off to?  
The Hellbug
Ganiz's eyes harden at Jegger's question.    "The boy's dead,"   he answers, venom in his voice,   "and if it weren't for New Zarian, here, I wouldn't be surprised if it were you all getting attacked in the night--predators are all the same, they go for the easiest prey.  Only difference is there's no one to bury you out in the Dry."  
Dr.Samurai
Jegger's eyes go wide in surprise and embarrassment. A boy? Dead?   Uh, I uh...   he looks at Gendo. The old man's frown deepens and he shakes his head and looks away, the disappointment clear.   I didn't... I'm, I'm sorry.  

Jegger clears his throat, and hopes the boy wasn't Ganiz's.
agignac
Joan bristled at the accusatory venom in the stranger's voice. She had to remind herself that the community had just lost a boy, and was hurting. She thought briefly of her own village, ravaged by demons, of blood...she shut the image away.

Holding up her hands placatingly, she said,  " Apologies, we meant no harm. Nobody benefits from senseless death."   Looking at the innkeeper, then the leaders of New Zarian, she said,   "I am Joan Brighton, and it is my sacred duty to rid the lands of demons and other evils. I  pledge to avenge your Jonas, to destroy whatever brought such death to New Zarian."   Her low, gravelly voice was deathly serious.  " Please, tell me whatever you can that will aid me in this quest. You spoke of mounds?"  
Awful
 
 Spoiler: Joan nature check 

Porcupines have quills, right? So do sea urchins. You can't imagine either of them doing this, though, for obvious reasons.
 

 
 Spoiler: Rath nature check 

It has vague similarities to a porcupine quill, though no porcupine has ever grown so big - and they're not aggressive creatures, never mind the black ichor. A porcupine wouldn't break into a stables just to kill horses.

The quill's hollow; like a needle, it probably carries a poison, like that black ichor. Maybe that's what's left of the poison when it dries.

If it's anything like a pocupine, though, the killer can probably shed quills just by shaking itself hard enough. Something to look out for.
 



As Jegger talks, he picks up the quill. Cautionlessly, he tests the point of it with his thumb.

It slides into his flesh like empty air.

First, there's no pain, and then it blooms like a red flower. On instinct, he jerks his hand back, and the spike is wrenched out. Drops of blood spatter on the floorboards.

 Jegger takes 1 piercing damage. 

"Oh dear!" the Mayor says, half rising.

The good doctor is already on his feet, reaching into his satchel, and he holds out his hand towards Jegger cautiously, as if not wanting to startle an animal.
"Your hand, please," he says. His voice is quiet and husky, barely more than a whisper.

Fair simply shakes her head.

"Anyway, the mounds," she says, getting things back on track.

"Oh, yes, the mounds," the Mayor mumbles, sinking slowly back into his seat. "I'm sorry, Ganiz my boy; I forget sometimes you're not a local. The mounds are of course the old burial mounds."

He looks around at the room; the cluster of strangers come to his town that are perhaps its salvation. His eyes are watery with age and entombed with wrinkles, but behind them an intelligent man still peers out at the world.

"The old burial mounds," he says again, "By the ruins of Old Zarian up in the hills. You see, a long time ago, back when I was a boy - there was a battle near Zarian. Back in the time of the  King ."

For a second, the inn is silent. At the mention of the King, the air seems to still. For a heartbeat, it carries the thousand-year weight of the ancient tyrant-

-and then the moment passes, and all is normal again. A fly buzzes noisily in, does a circuit, and bumbles its way out a window.

"The demons of the King fought the Fool in the hills in one of their battles. The demons, and the iron nail warriors, and all manner of strange sorcercies..." He chuckles weakly. "The Fool won, of course, as you well know. But the ruin of the demons left behind - their blood had soaked into the soil."

"Made it rotten, my mama said," says Fair with distaste. She leans back on her chair; it creaks mournfully. "Made it foul."

"Quite so, quite so." The old man pauses for breath. "The plants - they grew strange, after that, no good to eat for man or beast, so we packed up and left. The whole town. Some of us settled here, and some thought the distance wasn't enough, so they kept going and settled in Little Bluerock."

"The mounds," Tarrin reminds him, amusement in his tone. "Don't think they need the history lesson."

"Yes, yes. Anyway, some things shouldn't be left under open sky. There were some old mines in the town, so we buried the demons in one, the nail warriors in another, and sealed them off, and thought that'd be the end of it."

"Nothing to say it wasn't," Tarrin says. "This might be some mutant out the hills, but the demons are dead and been dead for seventy years. If they're crawling about now, they took their time doing it."
agignac
Joan found herself on her feet again, at the mention of the battle.   "They were here? The Fool and the King? They fought nearby?"   She thought back to her village, blood soaked and empty.   "You were lucky there were enough of you left to pick up and move."   She had just enough sense not to say that they hadn't moved far enough.

  "How far are these mounds?"   Joan didn't know anything about 70 year old demon corpses coming alive, but she didn't need to. There was a threat that needed ending, and that was enough for her.
Awful
 
 Spoiler: Bijou history check 

Some of the stories you heard in Little Bluerock seemed to roughly match the timeline - you remember them mentioning the Fool had a fight nearby, and afterwards, there was a migration. Which isn't too unusual, as the Fool had a lot of fights.

Overall, you don't think you heard anything contradicting the story you just heard.
 
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

 "It's an old story,"  Bijou says.  "And many are the scars left on the world from those days."

"Why they're stirred up here, now is a good question." 
Dr.Samurai
Jegger grimaces as the quill easily slices his thumb. Blood wells up and he jerks his hand back from the quill. He gives his hand to the good doctor when asked for it.   Strange, so sharp but none were in the horses that I could see...   he murmurs to himself. He looks up sheepishly at the others and realizes the Mayor has stood to his feet. He gestures with his other hand,   Please, please, sit. I am fine.  

As the story continues, Jegger's eyes go wide at the thought of demons or other monsters from the battles with the King and the Fool. He looks again to Gendo, but the old man seems skeptical.
Awful
The good doctor begins to rub a strange-smelling ointment into the wound on Jegger's hand, before carefully wrapping it in clean cloth.
"That gunk can't be any good news," he says gently. "I put on something to keep the rot out of it, but if it starts to turn black or smell foul, you come see me, alright? And make sure you keep it clean as possible."

To Joan, the mayor offers a small smile.
"The Fool did, at least, against one of the demon legions of the King. I don't think the King himself was anywhere near, or else I suspect there wouldn't be a New Zarian around either." He chuckles, before he sterns again. "If you follow the river, for young people full of vim like you, it might take... a day, perhaps? You'll know the turning off point when you see it. We used to float the ore downstream, and the trail should still be there."

Fair nods. "When I used to head up there, it took me about that." She turns her heavy gaze on the lot of you. "Be careful, though, if you're goin'. In the valleys and peaks of those hills, there's a lot of good ambush territory. All manner of strange beasts callin' those hills home now, too."



A day's travel... troublesome. If you set off now, you'd have to camp in the hills on the way and the way back. If you wait till morning, you'd get there close to dark, and Fool only knows what might happen in the night.
Kushina43
Ratharon winces as Jegger pierces himself on the quill - even detached, there could be some bad poison there, and she doesn't have anything to treat whatever that ichor might do.  The doctor addresses the wound itself just fine, and so listens intently to the mayor.  Demons fought the one known as Fool nearby, which cursed the burial mounds where she and Tira had sensed the anomaly.  She may not believe in this Wheel conceptually, but even mythologized history is still history, especially when it wasn't even a century ago, and the curse on these mounds is proof of just how powerful the one known as Fool and these demons were.

She works out how best to approach this and pipes up confidently.   "Alright, Mayor, Fair, thank you for the information.  I say we head out immediately for the burial mounds.  We'll have no trouble overnight, and we can get there during next daylight when it can't surprise us."   She looks around the table, only to realize she came across as rather commanding to people she doesn't even know, and tacks on in a more reserved manner  "That is, if you are all comfortable with that course of action.  That's just how I'd like it done." 
agignac
Joan nods her head at the snake-friend's words.   "Agreed, we should leave immediately."  
Dr.Samurai
The mayor chuckles, before he sterns again. "If you follow the river, for young people full of vim like you, it might take... a day, perhaps? You'll know the turning off point when you see it. We used to float the ore downstream, and the trail should still be there."

Jegger looks at the others, taking stock of the group.

Fair nods. "When I used to head up there, it took me about that." She turns her heavy gaze on the lot of you. "Be careful, though, if you're goin'. In the valleys and peaks of those hills, there's a lot of good ambush territory. All manner of strange beasts callin' those hills home now, too."

Ratharon pipes up confidently.  "Alright, Mayor, Fair, thank you for the information. I say we head out immediately for the burial mounds. We'll have no trouble overnight, and we can get there during next daylight when it can't surprise us."  She looks around the table, only to realize she came across as rather commanding to people she doesn't even know, and tacks on in a more reserved manner  "That is, if you are all comfortable with that course of action. That's just how I'd like it done." 

Joan nods her head at the snake-friend's words.   "Agreed, we should leave immediately."  

Jegger nods,   There's no rest for the wicked.  
TriciaOso
Bijou frowns and thinks.  "If its lair is a day away, it certainly is no natural beast. To travel so far to kill without eating, then turn around and return? Even if it moves much faster than a man, that's... senseless. Or else truly purposeful." 

She looks at the tall warriors preparing to set out, and sighs.  "You buggers owe me sixpence in silver. I suppose I better come to keep an eye on my debts."  In contrast to the other three, she is totally unarmed and unarmored, not to mention about two feet shorter.
Awful
"If you're going," the Mayor says, "Then bless you all."

At Bijou's words, Tarrin gives a false chuckle.

"I'm sure we're grateful for the offer," Tarrin says. "But, with all due respect, miss - are you sure? You're a little more... lightly armed... than your friends there."
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

 "With all that respect right back at you, my friend, I've wandered this weary world for nigh-on forty years, and not always with ironmongers such as these at my side,"  Bijou says with a smile.

She shrugs out of the old cavalry coat and sack-like green hat and stretches, cat-like. Under it she wears more second-hand homespun, too big for her and bound over to fit by ropes of her discarded costume; throwing knives gleam in the bindings around her wrists and forearm.

 "I sing and I dance and I know the old tales,"  she says.  "That's how I earn my living. That's what I like to do. Doesn't mean it's all I can do."

"Seems no one in this town is in the mood for entertainment, and right enough so, if there's monsters about. But when we come back I expect an audience." 
The Hellbug
Ganiz remains back away from the table, though he shifts uncomfortably as the locals explain the history of the mounds, glancing at a scimitar mounted behind the bar.  After the outsiders state their plan to set out immediately, he speaks up:   "if there's anything you need--food or water for the journey--we can supply it, 'cept horses.  Make sure to bring news back no matter what you find; this thing's out there, at the burial mounds or not."  
Awful
The merchant merely opens his hands in surrender at Bijou's retort. Fair gives an amused grunt; the mayor nods thoughtfully, head bobbing like a bird on his thin wrinkly neck.

And with little more to say than a few well-wishes, the four set out. Gendo stays at the inn, nursing a drink out of the sun.

First they find the river. Not too hard; this one doesn't have the flow to force wandering into its banks. It's not too impressive as rivers go, a slow tread of sandy brown water maybe 20 feet wide making its way out to die in the Dry, but here it's life. Scrubby grasses grow along its bank, little lizards sunbathing on warm rocks by the waters. Channels hacked into the bank irrigate fields of beans, leaves vividly green as theywind up trellises. Tiny birds, feathers jewel-bright, hunt for insects amid the greenery, and tweet at your approach. A little shed has prospector's gold panning equipment hanging from hooks.

 Ahead, the hills loom like sleeping beasts. The soil crunches underfoot as you walk. A few enterprising mosquitoes, waking up early, try to snack on you before the meal-time rush at dusk. An hour passes peacefully, then two, as you begin to pass into the foothills. The ground gets rockier, the shrubs smaller and hardier, with thin, tough leaves.

Then you hear noises coming from behind. The rustling of footsteps. The clank of metal. Something's coming.
agignac
Hearing the noise behind them, Joan turns and raises her shield, her warhammer at the ready.   "Stop and declare yourself!"   she called out, her voice raspy.   "If you come in peace, you will find no harm here. If you intend violence, you will find it."  
Dr.Samurai
As they prepare to leave, Jegger attends to Gendo.

 You're a fool,  the old man says. Jegger smirks,   Well--  
 I said  a  fool, not  the  Fool! You know nothing of this creature. Ain't ar problem boy. They's half a mind that we did it and be happier if we just left.  He shakes his head,   Demons?  Huh! What do you know o' demons boy? No need to go chasing death. 

The old man's concern takes Jegger by surprise. It had been a long time since Gendo showed... concern for him. Not sure what to say, Jegger throws on a smile,   I'll be back in two days. You can let me know how the cooking is here. If it's no good, we'll keep traveling.
  
Gendo turns his face and says nothing. Jegger unloops his coin pouch and sets it on Gendo's lap,   I won't be needing that where we're going but don't go spendin' it all! I'll be looking for it when I get back!   Jegger's voice is light-hearted, but the intent is not. Were he to die, Gendo can use the coin to look after himself in New Zarian, at least for a time.

On his way out, Jegger stops by to speak with Ganiz,   He's a grumpy ol' badger but he's harmless. I left him with coin, if you can see after him until we return.   He nods, and sets out with the others.

---------------------------

The noises startle Jegger, already on alert as they try to track the beast to its lair. He whirls around, sword and shield ready, and steps beside Joan, who has already called out the challenge,   Stop and declare yourself! If you come in peace, you will find no harm here. If you intend violence, you will find it.
  
The Hellbug
Once the others are set on their way, Ganiz makes sure the old priest gets settled before reentering the Tumblewood Inn's main room, but can't find the mood or energy to engage with the locals left around.  The image of poor Jonas's mangled body won't leave his head, and his eyes keep being drawn to the scimitar hanging on the wall.  After a few anxious minutes, he excuses himself and makes his way to a lonely storage room in the home, where he comes to a stop before a dusty chest against the back wall.  Opening it for the first time in almost a decade, Ganiz sees inside the tools of his old trade: a notched wooden buckler, a quiver of arrows sharp as the day they were put there, a bow that hasn't been strung in years, and a chain shirt still battered from his last terrible battle.  He's thumbing the point of one of the arrows when Adela's voice at the door interrupts him.   "You shouldn't let this lie." 

Ganiz spins around, dropping the quiver.    "You know I couldn't do that,"   he says, reaching down to grab the arrows and put them back in the chest,   "you, Marsau, the girls...what if that thing comes back?"  
 "What, you'll be able to stop it alone?"  she replies, stepping toward her husband and staying his hand from returning the quiver.  She shakes her head.   "Those outsiders are the best hope of putting whatever that thing is down.  Nobody in New Zarian will be able to sleep sound til that's done.  Go with them.  End it, for Jonas.  Bring them back--I know you'll hate yourself if you don't, and I can't live with you like that." 

Ganiz silently embraces her, tears in his eyes.  A minute later, she leaves him to his preparations.

________________

A couple hours later, Ganiz is sure he's getting close to catching up with the travelers.  The rest of his departure had been swift--gear gathered quickly, goodbyes with promises of returning soon to his daughters, instructions to Marsau to look after his sisters and obey his mother--and he's made good time, despite the heat.

Sure enough, there they are, just around a bend in the path.  The former caravan guard hears them before they do him, but he waits for their hail regardless.    "Oy there,"   he replies,   "I'm no enemy.  It's Ganiz, from the inn."     He steps around the bend, hands out and open to show he bears them no ill-will.  Unlike the last time they saw him, though, the innkeeper now wears a battered chain shirt over his long tunic, a wide-brimmed hat to combat the sun, and a variety of weapons: a scimitar at his side, sling and stones on his belt, and quiver on his back.  He steps closer when their weapons lower.    "I'm here to help,"   he announces and tosses a small pouch (which, on inspection, contains her coins from earlier) to Bijou,   "and you didn't end up using the rooms."  
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Bijou hooks the pouch out of the air and they disappear around her person.

 "Now I can relax,"  she announces.  "Half of me thought they sent us to put it back to sleep with its hunger sated or hoping it choked to death on our bones." 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  - 
 Raging: - 
 Reckless: - 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 

Jegger takes in the image of Ganiz with raised eyebrows. New Zarian has been full of surprises in the short while Jegger has been there. His look of surprise turns into a wide grin,   Now we're cookin' with fire. Five on one, I'm liking these odds better and better.   He claps Ganiz on the shoulder as he joins the group.

 
 
  
agignac
Joan looked at the new arrival with confusion.   "But...you are the innkeep. It is not safe out here, even if you have borrowed some weapons. It would be safer if you returned."  
The Hellbug
  "Nowhere's safe until whatever attacked last night is dead and in the ground,"   Ganiz answers with a shake of his head,   "and I wasn't always an innkeeper.  I reckon once I've shaken the rust off, I could hold my own with any of ya...'cept maybe him"  --he gestures towards Jegger--  "trust me though, if I thought, even a little, that me being back in New Zarian would make it safer, that's where I'd be.  So it's not much of a decision, you see?"  
Kushina43
Ratharon attempts to be more quiet while the group prepares to leave.  It's only once they're well out of town that she seems more like herself - at least, far as anyone else here has seen.  She's the first to point out the change in wildlife leading toward the river, and when they arrive at the banks proper she lets out her arm.   "Fly freely, little one, I'm sure you are thirsty."  and the sandy flying snake Tira whips out of her sleeve in a flash, flitting around like a fly before landing on the rocks and drinking of the river.  The nearby lizards she'd normally prey upon pay her no mind, her flashy movements clearly not of an active hunter.  Meanwhile, Ratharon is looking at the other plants and animals, especially the birds tweeting on their approach.

 "It's not much to many, but a place so full of life as this is just wonderful,"  she says aloud, not really directed at anyone in particular, just eager to talk more frankly to new people.   "The desert isn't barren of life as you may think, but it is sparse enough that I always enjoy these greener areas wherever I may find them.  Even manmade ones stemming from irrigation have their own charm."     With the group moving on further toward the hills, she clicks her tongue and Tira flits over to rest on Ratharon's shoulder.

While she doesn't let Tira close to the rest for now - still building trust and all - she does let the snake fly free again once the biters come out, and any that land on Ratharon's body get snatched up by Tira as a snack, leaving her mostly itchless.  When Jegger and Joan react to the sound behind them defensively, she's much slower and less urgent in reacting.  It's not that she didn't notice, but that nothing worth fleeing from would be arriving at the pace and noise level she heard - a single man and his arms wouldn't be a match for the whole group, especially with no attempt to conceal themself.  And sure enough, it was Ganiz the innkeep who entered their view, with no ill intent and willing to help.   "Ah, Ganiz, thank you for joining us.  I knew I correctly pegged you for the former adventurer type.  Well, as Jegger said, these five on one odds are looking much better than before.  Time to save New Zarian, yeah?" 
agignac
Joan nodded, and stood down. Turns out there was more to the innkeep than meets the eye. However, there was still something she didn't understand. To Jegger, she said,   "You said five on one. Why are you so certain there is only one creature responsible?"  
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  - 
 Raging: - 
 Reckless: - 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 

Jegger pauses at Joan's question for a bit, a look of genuine consideration on his face,   Well... I'm not quite sure. I think a group would have been harder to keep quiet, maybe made a bigger mess of things. There would probably be more quills left behind.   He leaves it at that, the look on his face revealing he's not quite sure of his own answer.
 
 
  
The Hellbug
  "It was only one last night,"   Ganiz states confidently,   "not enough room in the stables for more from what I saw.  Doesn't matter much--only one last night doesn't mean there aren't more out there.  Not that I hope that's the case.  Our business is with whatever that monster was, the less poking around the mounds the better, I'd say."  

_______

Once they get on the way again, Ganiz addresses Rathoran out of the blue.    "Not an adventurer,"   he corrects,   "caravan guard.  Different.  Caravan guards do a job--don't go looking for treasure and riches or to stir up trouble."  
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16


 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "Nowhere's safe until whatever attacked last night is dead and in the ground,"   Ganiz answers with a shake of his head,   "and I wasn't always an innkeeper.  I reckon once I've shaken the rust off, I could hold my own with any of ya...'cept maybe him"  --he gestures towards Jegger--  "trust me though, if I thought, even a little, that me being back in New Zarian would make it safer, that's where I'd be.  So it's not much of a decision, you see?"   
 

Bijou shakes her head.  "Don't mind them. Tall people, see?" 

(Ganiz may or may not enjoy being lumped in with the five-foot Bijou.)


 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
 Once they get on the way again, Ganiz addresses Rathoran out of the blue.    "Not an adventurer,"   he corrects,   "caravan guard.  Different.  Caravan guards do a job--don't go looking for treasure and riches or to stir up trouble."   
 

 "Anyone who can survive for long wandering this world has to be capable,"  Bijou agrees.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  - 
 Raging: - 
 Reckless: - 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 
  Glad to have you Ganiz, now we should probably keep moving.   Jegger forges ahead, wanting to make good time before they have to camp for the night.
 
 
  
agignac
Joan nodded thoughtfully - she hadn't considered those points. It was good to be travelling with smart folk. And if it turned out there was more than one, they'd die too.

As they kept moving into the hills, Joan asked Jegger,   "What brought you and your father out this way? I did not dare ask before, as he seems very private and grumpy. He does not seem to enjoy the travel, is there not someplace he would like to settle down?"  
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  - 
 Raging: - 
 Reckless: - 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 

Joan nodded thoughtfully - she hadn't considered those points. It was good to be travelling with smart folk. And if it turned out there was more than one, they'd die too.

As they kept moving into the hills, Joan asked Jegger,   What brought you and your father out this way? I did not dare ask before, as he seems very private and grumpy. He does not seem to enjoy the travel, is there not someplace he would like to settle down?  

Jegger chuckles at Gendo's grumpiness causing apprehension, but then he becomes thoughtful,   He wasn't always that way. My real parents died before I could know them. Gendo took me in. He treated me like a son. Taught me everything I know about how to fight and survive. Raised me on stories of The Fool battling the forces of darkness to save the Wheel. There was a time that Gendo could march out into these wilds and kill whatever it is out there that did that to those horses, and to that poor boy Jonas. It's hard on him now, not being able to move, aches all over his body, fevers and coughs. We've just been trying to find a place where he might get some help to ease his pain some. We thought that might be New Zarian...  
  What about you?   he asks, looking at Joan,   What brings you and Bijou to travel the roads alone?  
 
 
  
agignac
 
 Originally Posted by Dr.Samurai 
   What about you?   he asks, looking at Joan,   What brings you and Bijou to travel the roads alone?   
 

Joan felt a wave of melancholy at Jegger's words. How wonderful to have an adopted family, to have somebody to care for, and be cared for by. She'd had mentors, of a sort, but none that she'd been close with after her training. None that would even remember her now. If they still lived.

  "That is very good of you. The elderly are our memory, and it is right to care for them. I hope you are able to find respite for him."  

She plodded along for another moment, thinking about how to answer his question. She certainly couldn't answer with complete honesty; that the Fool had robbed her of her ability to fulfill her Vow of Vengeance. That would lead to awkward questions about her age, and her species. Nor would she lie.    "I travel widely, to destroy evil where I find it. The wind blew me here."   She was pretty sure that metaphors weren't lies.
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Bijou laughs and shakes her head.  "I've never done anything else. My mother was an entertainer and I grew up on the road with her. She's settled down now--runs an inn,"   she says, glancing sidelong at Ganiz.  "I was of age so I just...kept going." 
 "They call it the Beauty Way, you ever heard that? It's not any particular route, just the road where the audiences take you. You can leave it or find it, or get lost on it." 

She slips into a melancholy travelling song smooth and easy, almost without thinking.

 
 Spoiler: 🎶Pancho and Lefty 
  Living on the road my friend
Was gonna keep you free and clean
And now you wear your skin like iron
And your breath as hard as kerosene

Weren't your mama's only child
But her favorite one it seems
She began to cry when you said goodbye
And sank into your dreams  
 
The Hellbug
Ganiz nods.    "Heard another traveler mention it, back in the day,"   he says,   "thought it might have just been a name he made up himself, though, to draw people into his tales.  Guess not.  Suppose that's probably how the name started, though."    He's silent for a moment before he speaks up again.    "Innkeep's not where I thought I'd end up,"   he adds, addressing Bijou's glance,   "that was Adella's before I entered the picture.  Just the spot I came to land."  
Kushina43
 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
 Once they get on the way again, Ganiz addresses Rathoran out of the blue.    "Not an adventurer,"   he corrects,   "caravan guard.  Different.  Caravan guards do a job--don't go looking for treasure and riches or to stir up trouble."   
 

Ratharon nods, finding that former career even more understandable than previous.   "Caravan guard, eh?  That makes even more sense, didn't mean to jump to conclusions."   Listening to everyone else talk about their past or motivations was certainly equally interesting, however brief some were.  She started to speak up, but then caught herself since she hadn't been invited to do so.  Instead, once there's a more noticeable lull in the conversation, she snatches Ganiz's earlier correction.   "Speaking of caravan, by any chance have you worked or met with a merchant named Sisl?  Travels the Dry on rare occasions, not very open where else or what he does business?  Vague description, I know.  Led a charge with my old tribe to save his life from some giant scorpions a while back. It's.. why I'm here, really.  Aside from this business, of course."   Her demeanor changes somewhat with the line before last, both melancholy and holding back ire, only to perk back up with the correction.  As if to distract herself to avoid any potential questioning, she clicks her tongue and lets Tira slither onto her hand, petting the tiny snake with a finger from the other.
The Hellbug
  "Hmmmm."   Ganiz hesitates before answering.  Frankly, it's been a long time since he's thought back to his old days on the road in more than a general sense, the names and faces of most people he hadn't worked closely with long having settled into distant memory...except those of his final, ill-fated voyage.  They still live in his dreams on his worst nights.    "Can't say I have,"   he finally answers,   "but I haven't been on the road in, ooh, I guess more than a decade at this point.  And there are lots of folks moving around the edge of the Dry--more than you might expect in some places.  If I ever did, it wasn't more than a mention.  But if he's running afowl of giant scorpions, whether because of inexperience or foolish greed, well, I'm probably more fortunate for it."  
Awful
The sun slinks lazily across the sky as you walk. The way becomes rougher; the ground becomes harder. The shrubs turn to tangled clumps clinging to the gaps of boulders like clusters of spiders.

It is Rathoran and Joan that see them first. The nomad's instincts flare, her serpent coiling tighter. The back of the angel-blooded warrior's neck prickles, those ever-so-slightly inhuman senses seeing movement in the furrows and creases.

Animalistic forms; lupine, almost, bigger than a coyote has right to be. They're following the party, trying to stay out of sight, unwilling to engage - at least, not yet.

With nothing to do, the party keeps going, until they reach what must have been a way-point for those heading to old Zarian. Three hills form a wall around a sheltered incove, a flat piece of land. Some ancient firepit, stones blackened with historic flames, sits in the centre of the clearing.

The air here is still, the wind blocked by the hills on three sides. The river flows sluggishly to your flank.

The stranger waits until you're in the clearing until they introduce themselves.
 
"Hello there!"  calls a voice. Situated on a boulder, sixty feet ahead and thirty feet up a hill, a slender figure in a poncho is slouched on the top of the rock. A wide brimmed hat shades their face, their eyes occasionally gleaming in the half-light. You can't see any weapons - no large ones, at least.
 "My name's Glint, and pleased to meet you. But-" 
The voice is feminine, almost delicate, with a chiming accent that definitely isn't from around here. There's a hint of amusement to it, like you're not in on the joke.
 "Could I trouble you to turn around and go back?" 
 
 Spoiler: Glint 

 
 
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Bijou frowns.  "I'll come and go, as young Janet said, and ask no leave of thee,"  she says, quoting an old, old song, about a young girl who tangles with the Queen of Elves.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  - 
 Raging: - 
 Reckless: - 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 

Tensions rise when Joan and Rathoran spot creatures following the group. They point them out to Jegger but he has difficulty making them out. He gets a glimpse of one and makes out exactly what the women had described, some sort of large lupine creature.   Well, that's unsettling,   he mutters. The group decides to keep marching until they find a way-point in the hills.

A voice from above calls out to them,  My name's Glint, and pleased to meet you. But, could I trouble you to turn around and go back? 

Jegger looks at the others, he hadn't been expecting anyone out here, and certainly not someone with the confidence to politely ask a group of five to get lost. He scans the terrain nestled between the three hills for her accomplices, but maintains a steady composure.

  Hail, Glint!   Jegger calls out to the figure on the boulder up the hill,   The name's Jegger, and the trouble is more than you know. We'd have to travel back in the dark, with wolves hot on our feet. We'd rather rest here, and defend ourselves for the night, if it's all the same to you.  
 
 
  
The Hellbug
As soon as he had been notified of the party's followers, Ganiz nodded, strung his bow, and tested its draw: still good.  He moved his quiver from back to belt and kept a weather eye for the lupine creatures as the day rolled on.  His caution never bears fruit,  but now, however, a totally different kind of problem appears to be blocking their way.  Bow in hand, he's cautious but not yet reaching for an arrow.    "Never seen this one before,"   the innkeeper whispers to his allies who are talking to this 'Glint',   "not from New Zarian."    They seem too confident to be alone in a place like this, so Ganiz scans the surrounding hills, looking for the creatures from earlier and likely spots from which an ambusher could spring.
agignac
Joan had been on edge since she saw the too-big coyotes. The appearance of this over-confident stranger did nothing to calm her nerves. Noticing her new companions looking around for danger or ambush, Joan kept her eyes on this "Glint".


 Hail, Glint! Jegger calls out to the figure on the boulder up the hill, The name's Jegger, and the trouble is more than you know. We'd have to travel back in the dark, with wolves hot on our feet. We'd rather rest here, and defend ourselves for the night, if it's all the same to you. 

  "We did not come here on a whim,"   Joan called out, adding to Jegger's comments.   "Nor will we be turned away by one. If your intention is not ill, come down and we will speak. But be warned, if it is trouble you seek, then you will find it here."   She hefted her shield and shifted her warhammer from one shoulder to the other to emphasize her words.
The Hellbug
Having seen what he feared, Ganiz grips his bow more tightly.    "Easy,"   he urges Joan and the others quietly,   "those jackals from earlier have us surrounded--hiding on the slopes.  
Awful
Glint laughs, sharp and crystal, like broken glass.
 "Well, that's hardly nice,"  she says, amusement colouring her tone.  "I even asked real polite." 
She shrugs, hands held palm towards the sky theatrically, before she settles back down. She folds one arm over a knee, leaning forwards. 
"All due respect, miss, but seeing you with that mallet I think I'll stay up here. I get the sense you might be a mite keen to give something a right thump with it.

Now, Mister Jegger, if I may say so, I've got some experience with beasts like the ones in these hills - and while you're in their territory, they'll be closing the noose, so to speak. But if they see you heading outwards - why, threat leaving, all's happy, and the teeth don't come out. So speaking for your good health, mister, it'd be better for you and your pals to turn around and make tracks back home." 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  - 
 Raging: - 
 Reckless: - 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 
  Easy,   Ganiz urges Joan and the others quietly,   those jackals from earlier have us surrounded--hiding on the slopes.   Jegger looks from side to side,   Well thank the Fool I'm with a handful of eagle-eyed folk such as yourselves,   he whispers,   I'm not seein' anything out here. Ganiz, are these jackal things covered in quills?  

Glint calls out,  Now, Mister Jegger, if I may say so, I've got some experience with beasts like the ones in these hills - and while you're in their territory, they'll be closing the noose, so to speak. But if they see you heading outwards - why, threat leaving, all's happy, and the teeth don't come out. So speaking for your good health, mister, it'd be better for you and your pals to turn around and make tracks back home. 

Jegger nods at the woman and calls back over the distance,   Mighty kind of you Glint, to look out fer us like that. But as I said, the trouble's more than you know. Something attacked New Zarian. Killed a boy. We're not turning back until the city is safe, we have people depending on us. Call yer dogs off and let's talk, maybe you can help us find the thing we're looking for. But turnin' around aint an option.  
 
 
  
agignac
Joan sighed. She usually managed to say the wrong thing. She hoped the others would be more successful in talking sense to the stranger.

Then something registered - Glint had called her "miss". It had been decades since anybody younger than an elder had called her that. She squinted up at the stranger - who was she?
Kushina43
Ratharon was fixated on watching the lupine threats trailing them, enough that Glint's appearance registered but didn't alarm her.  Though once they mentioned the beasts, she found it odd just how carefree she was.  Joan was suspicious of their intent, understandably, while Jegger was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.  Ratharon studied her for a moment, then decided to take Jegger's approach.

 "Greetings to you, fair Glint.  My name is Ratharon Dhodom.  I understand and appreciate your concern, but as my friend mentioned, we are here to stop one beast in particular that has attacked the town of New Zarian.  You say you're familiar with the creatures of this land?  Perhaps your knowledge would help us get in, do our job, and get out swiftly enough."    But she can't help herself probing for a bit more.   "Unless you have reason other than concern for getting us away from here..?" 
Awful
Glint tips her hat politely at Rathoran's greeting, but Jegger's words have left her thoughtful.
 "A dead boy, hmm." 
The stranger reaches up to rub at an ear.  
"That  is  troublesome. Guessing you're out for blood, huh?"
 
She thinks for a moment, then clicks her fingers.  
"Alright. How about this? See, it's pretty important you don't go any deeper in the hills, orders from above, complicated reasons, you'll die, trust me - so how about this - I'll chuck you some compensation for the boy's family, you take it home to mama and papa, and I'll personally deal with the beastie myself." 

Glint smiles widely, her teeth a white slash in the face visible beneath the brim of her hat.

 "How about it? Best of all worlds, right? Poor little kid gets avenged, you don't have to risk yourself, and mama gets gold to help ease away her tears." 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  - 
 Raging: - 
 Reckless: - 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 

Jegger is taken aback by the implications... who is Glint serving? Why does she think she can survive where the others can't? Why does she feel strongly enough to offer gold?

He doesn't say anything, looking instead to Ganiz and Rathoran, both from New Zarian. Gold isn't nothing, especially these days. He doesn't know what they will make of Glint's offer to slay the beast herself and give them gold for the family instead. He waits quietly.

 
 
  
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Bijou speaks with careful courtesy, her mind racing with old legends and a sense of danger her companions obviously don't feel.

 
 Spoiler 
 My mother said, I never should
Play with the fairies in the wood;
If I did, she would say,
Naughty little girl to disobey.
Your hair shan't curl,Your shoes shan't shine,
You changeling girl, you shan't be mine. 
 

 "Fair you are, and fair your speech, and fair your offer,"  she temporizes.  "But our business is our own, and we can't stop here. Good day to you." 
agignac
Joan felt like a fish out of water here. There was something going on here, something above her ability to comprehend. Usually when evil needed killing, she killed it. This was beyond her ken.

  "Orders from whom?"   she asked the strangely casual behatted person.   "Above where?"   She looked around at the animals that she could only catch glimpses of.   "What manner of beast is it, that you can take on single-handedly, but that would kill the five of us?"  
Kushina43
 "The offer is indeed appreciated, and tempting.."  Ratharon starts, mirroring Bijou's sentiment and looking down as if mulling it over.   "But gold cannot wash away blood so easily.  It must fall to us.  Even if it somehow soothed a family, I never could rest without being certain I took it down myself." 

She then locks eyes with Glint, determination plain to see from her expression, as well as curiosity.   "Aside from that, I'm more interested in what you could possibly mean by "orders from above."  And that you claim capability to take it down in single combat.  Is there civilization close by you hail from, with special knowledge on these creatures?  Or is this just your specialty?" 
The Hellbug
Ganiz nods, showing his support for the others.  They've covered everything he wanted to say so he merely keeps an wary eye on Glint for her response.  Frankly, the situation feels like it's getting more tense by the moment, and Ganiz knows that if it snaps at the end, it can only mean violence.
Awful
The woman sighs regretfully.
 "Now, that is a shame. You can't say I didn't try, at least." 

She slowly raises a hand, then snaps her fingers. The click, piercingly loud, seems to echo around the little natural plaza. The creatures in the hills around you stir, becoming dark silhouettes staring down. Pebbles clatter down as they brace themselves to charge.
 "I do solemnly wish it didn't come to this, but for what it's worth, you are, at least, getting your chance.

 Chaothlobaal !" 

From behind the hill she's positioned on rises a terrible howl. Something impossibly hateful, impossibly ugly, screaming rage into the sky. A centauroid figure scrambles into view. It looks - almost stitched together, a torso mismatched with the hairless leonine body, a segmented tail waving behind. One of the creature's arms is a ragged stump of withered black flesh, the passage of some ancient blow still shown in the great slice taken out the torso. Organs pulse inside, just visible. The other arm is thickly muscled, shod in claws. From the back of the torso rises a forest of spines, tips black with ichor, and the face is a six-eyed mask of wrath.

But perhaps what is worst are the faces. Inside the scarred and miscoloured skin of the torso, the impressions of human faces slowly writhe and push themselves against the flesh, as if trapped inside the belly of the beast.

 
 Spoiler: Chaothlobaal, the Spine Demon 

 
 

The monster comes to a halt next to her, and she thumps in on the side. It doesn't move; she might as well have punched a wall. It snarls at her, but she doesn't flinch.

 "This is your damned mess, you ugly thing, so sort it out."  Glint tells it.  "You were damn well told not to kill anyone."
 
She turns back to the party, surveying them regretfully. 
   
"The screaming in this next part always gives me a headache,"   Glint says,   "So I'll be heading off here. Boys! Kill! Kill!" 
 
She clicks her fingers again and flickers, here-then-not, and abruptly she's standing on the next hill away. She makes a gesture of farewell and begins making her way off.

The monster lets loose another horrible howl, the air almost stained black with it, before it begins to bound towards you, and so do the jackals on the hills...

 Roll for initiative!
 
 
 Spoiler: Combat info 
There's around thirty feet of smooth terrain in each direction before it gets into rough, craggy hills - that'll count as difficult terrain when heading uphill.

There's two jackal monsters 1 and 2 - to your east around eighty feet away.

There's two jackal monsters 3 and 4 - to your south, around eighty feet away.

Chaothlobaal is sixty feet ahead, up on a rock.
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  - 
 Raging: - 
 Reckless: - 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 

Jegger's eyes go wide at the sight of the monster, something no story he had heard ever described. The thought of this spined horror slinking through New Zarian at night scared him, the thought of the boy, Jonas, coming face to face with this nighmare all alone pained him. The thought that someone out here had a leash on this thing enraged him. He hears Gendo's voice in his head,    Your problem is you think too much boy. You can't be thinking when the time comes, you just act. Attack, Move, Defend. Where is their striking coming? Where's yours going? ....   

The lesson fades away as Jegger brings his shield forward and steels himself.

 
 Spoiler: Initiative 
  Initiative  - (1d20+3)[ 13 ] 
 

 
 
  
Awful
 
 Spoiler: init 

Ganiz: 21
Bijou: 16
Joan: 15
Rathoran: 14
Jegger: 13
Foes: 9

For the sake of speed, I'll say that you can take your turns in any order unless an enemy would be able to act first.

So in this case, everyone can act now.
 
agignac
This was better. Talking, negotiating, could be confusing. Fighting was pure, uncomplicated.

Joan settled her shield on her forearm, closing her eyes for a moment.   "Gods of my Father, aid us in this battle for good."   She'd have liked to be able to name the god or gods she invoked, but she didn't know their names.

She began marching towards the four-legged demon.  "I shall engage it in combat. If you can keep the hounds off my heels, I can take it down."  It was hard to know how well-earned her confidence was, but they were about to find out.

 
 Spoiler 
Casting Aid. Bijou, Ganiz and Jegger have +5 to HP bonus and +5 HP. Her plan is to compel it to duel her, and then smite it to death.
 
Kushina43
Once Glint showed her hand and sicced the creatures at them, Joan ran ahead at the largest of the beasts.  Ratharon's scarlet eyes glanced all around, immediately taking in all five threats - the big one Joan charged, and two jackal beasts each to the east and south.  Spotting no ranged weaponry on the creatures, unless their spines could be discharged, she decides to lift an arm and click her tongue, letting Tira fly out and above her head, and issued a command  "Sentry formation!"   The snake flies thirty feet into the air above reach, ready to fly down and bite any who approach while retreating to a safe distance.

As for herself, with Tira prepared, she gets down on one knee and takes aim at one of the southern jackals.  With only a second of adjustment, she fires an arrow directly at its head, aiming for the kill shot, and then lets loose a quicker second as insurance.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Ratharon uses Sharpshooter for her attack, commanding Tira to fly thirty feet into the air above Ratharon
Sharpshooter Attack:   (1d20+3)[ 20 ] 
Damage:  (1d8+13)[ 17 ] 
 
Kushina43
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Second attack because I forgot how Bm works
Second attack:   (1d20+8)[ 10 ] 
Damage:   (1d8+3)[ 4 ] 
 
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Perfect.

Bijou looks around and makes a quick assessment. She can't reach any of them immediately, not with the steep hills and gravelly paths, so she looks to Jegger and calls,  "Mind the archers!"  before sprinting after Joan to cover her from direct coyote attacks. She's fleet-footed, and catches up easily, dropping into a defensive stance. She holds her walking staff like a weapon now.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  - 
 Raging: - 
 Reckless: - 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 

Jegger is about to run beside Joan to help her fight the demon, when Bijou looks to Jegger and calls,   "Mind the archers!"   before sprinting after Joan to cover her from direct coyote attacks. Jegger looks from side to side, seeing coyotes on either end and the demon ahead of them,    What archers?!    he calls after Bijou. He turns to Ganiz and Rathoran to ask them and sees the ranged weaponry,   Oh.   He looks back at the demon rearing down on Joan and hisses,    Dammit!    before shifting his stance toward the jackals bearing down on them.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 1 
Assuming I'm near Rathoran and Ganiz, I am not sure in which direction to move. I'll stay close to the two of them and take the Dodge action.
 

 
 
  
The Hellbug
Sorcery!  Demon Magic!  Ganiz gasps when the horrible spined creature appears, memories of his last encounter with such magics freezing him on the spot.  It's actually only the demon's horrible howl that shakes him free, and he, hand shaking, nocks an arrow, now practically oblivious to the smaller creatures.

  Deep breath.  Concentrate.  Aim.    Though his heart races, the innkeeper gets his thoughts and breath under control.  He regrets ignoring the impulse to have just put an arrow in the suspicious stranger and been done with her when it was obvious to him she was in control of the jackals, but that time is past.  This demon is clearly the creature that came to New Zarian and killed Jonas, and this demon clearly has to die.  Ganiz steadies his aim and waits for it to be distracted with one of his allies and looses his arrow.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
No movement.
Bonus action: None.  Nowhere to hide  
Action:  Ready an action to fire an arrow at the big beasty when it closes with one of his allies to attack.

Attack:  (1d20+8)[ 28 ] 
Damage:  (3d6+3)[ 1 ][ 6 ][ 5 ](12)  (the second two d6s are sneak attack dice in case those need to be subtracted)

Edit: That's a crit!  I rolled the critical damage in the discord so, cleaning it up from my messy rolling, that should be  30 damage  if I qualify for the sneak attack (I don't know if it'll close the distance though it certainly looks like the kind of thing that will) or  10 damage  if I don't.
 
Awful
With words failed, the party employ the oldest language: violence.

As the monsters come closer, jaws agape and claws stirring the earth, the five humans (and aasimar) ready fist and iron and will. One of the jackals stumbles wildly as a pair of arrows strike deeply into its hide. The first one is stronger, deeper, sending it limping. The second one strikes thick wiry fur and sticks in, only sinking a little into the flesh. It yelps with a high-pitched, whining cry, before charging, if anything, faster than before, as if eager to close with its attacker.

The demon does not stop its headlong charge. It's hooves hammer at Joan, slamming against her shield like thunderbolts, and as she bears the blows of the rocky hooves, but the demon's great claws comes around, hooking around the shield and bursting a long line of links as it gouges a heavy red wound in the woman's chest. Immediately, she can feel the aching burn of noxious ichor, seeping into the wound, gnawing with tiny invisible teeth on the injury. Her head swims, her vision tinting an awful rotting red.

 
 Spoiler: Two attacks against Joan 

Joan blocks the hoof attack, but the claw attack gets through.
 Joan takes 8 damage. Make a DC14 Con save or become Poisoned, taking an additonal 1d6 poison damage and ending the effect on a save.
 
 


As the demon thrashes at Joan, claw aloft, tail whipping, an arrow zips  out from behind Joan's guard. One of Chaothlobaal's eyes ruptures,  replaced with the wooden shaft of an arrow.

 the demon roars, some hideous word in demonic, and it rises the gorge in your throats, and as it does the tail whips forward like a ballista bolt - not at Joan but - past to slash open a cheek on Bijou to the teeth. It draws back the tail, the heavy chitin blade on the end now speckled with fresh blood, and waves it like a war banner.

 More to come , is the unspoken promise.

 
 Spoiler: An attack against Bijou 

The tail attack hits Bijou but lowballs at the minimum  6 damage .
 

 
 Spoiler: Combat info 

Round summary:

The Jackals all dash to close the distance, ending up next to the main group.

Chaothlobaal moves up and attacks three times; twice against Joan, once against Bijou.
Chaothlobaal lands one attack against Joan and Bijou, dealing  8  and  6  damage respectively and forcing a  DC14 con save  for Joan.

---

There's around thirty feet of smooth terrain in each direction before it  gets into rough, craggy hills - that'll count as difficult terrain when  heading uphill.

There's two jackal monsters 1 and 2 - to your east, next to the main group.

There's two jackal monsters 3 and 4 - to your south, next to the main group.
Jackal 3 is heavily injured.

Chaothlobaal is next to Joan.
 
agignac
Joan staggers as the demon's foul ichor pollutes her body. For a moment her muscles weaken, and she nearly drops her shield. With a force of will, she rallies, but she can feel the poison working its way through her.

Seeing her companion badly injured by the demon's tail, she cries out,   "I will destroy you, creature of foulest evil, I swear it!"   Her vow gives her renewed strength, and Joan swings her warhammer at the vile abomination. Alas, her flagging biceps betray her and she misses. Refusing to accept her failure, Joan swings again, and this time connects, thumping the creature soundly in the ribs, if indeed it had ribs under that long torso.

 
 Spoiler: attack on demon 
warhammer +divine smite = 11 damage
 
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  22/28  Ki:  4/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Bijou flinches back from the burning slash, and reassesses the situation. The coyotes have stopped short of Joan, but now they're swarming the archers. Ganiz's beautifully-placed arrow ruined cost this thing an eye. She can stay and help Joan by absorbing blows or trying to distract and disorient it, or she can try and free up more firepower for the real target.

Therefore--

 "Give it hell, milady,"  she tells Joan, and darts back to try and help Jegger protect their artillery. The tail feints towards her as she does, but she listens to the music that thrums inside of her and cartwheels out of its path in a hands-free aerial. She throws the momentum into her dash, then plants her feet hard and lets it all go into a low rising swing at the injured coyote-creature, all of the speed and power leveraged through her hips to the tip of the staff. She follows it up by reversing the direction of the staff and bringing down the other end sharply, but the beast has flinched out of the way.

Instead the staff slams into the ground and throws up a puff of dust.
The Hellbug
  Still got it.  Now just lie down and die.  

However, Ganiz's smugness at the success of his first shot doesn't last long, as the injury doesn't even seem to slow the demon down.  It'll take more than that.  Waiting for any small distraction, Ganiz darts away from the jackal-filled melee--with Bijou's return, it should be under control and Ganiz knows what his real target is--to the base of the hill where Joan and Choathlobaal battle.  There, he kneels, nocks another arrow, and lets fly at the huge beast.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Bonus action: Cunning Action to Disengage.
Movement: Ganiz moves to the base of the hill with the big beastie on it.
Action: shortbow attack:  (1d20+8)[ 24 ] 
damage:  (3d6+3)[ 14 ] 

Reaction: if anything comes for him, use Skirmisher to move 15 feet directly away from them to best of his ability (and never into something else's reach)
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  Resist B/P/S, Adv on Str, +2 Dmg 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless: Yes 
 Wild Surge Effect: 4 - Magic-Infused Weapon 

As Jegger watches the demon make contact with Joan and almost with Bijou, the jackals are on him and the others before he knows it. Jegger summons a fury from within, and he can feel the power course through his arm and into his sword, turning it into a blade of force. He looks at it wide-eyed before sending the beam of energy at the jackals before him.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 2 
  Bonus Action   - Rage
 Wild Surge Effect  - Magic infuses one weapon of your choice that you are holding. Until your rage ends, the weapon's damage type changes to force, and it gains the light and thrown properties, with a normal range of 20 feet and a long range of 60 feet. If the weapon leaves your hand, the weapon reappears in your hand at the end of the current turn.
  Action   - Attack Jackal
  Reckless Attack 1  - (1d20+6)[ 9 ] ,   Advantage  - (1d20+6)[ 22 ] 
  Force Damage 1  - (1d8+5)[ 10 ] 
  Reckless Extra Attack  - (1d20+6)[ 25 ] ,   Advantage  - (1d20+6)[ 15 ] 
  Force Damage 2  - (1d8+5)[ 6 ] 
 

 
 
  
Kushina43
Her arrows both struck true, the first more devastating than the second, but that and the other jackals were quickly upon them despite that.  While not incompetent in the art, melee wasn't really her thing, so she took a quick but deep breath and let her exhalation combine with the natural air around them, the combination immediately going down to wrap her feet in winds.  She ran far as the wind would carry her, which let her pass the flurry of fangs and claws unharmed, then stomped the ground to stop her movement.  Rather than follow up with an attack, she instead commanded Tira to dart in, bite the injured jackal, and dart back up to the skies - she wanted to check if her poison did anything to the lesser creatures now before daring to use it on the real monster Joan continued to fight, and the answer could prove useful if these aren't the last.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Action:  Casting Zephyr Strike
Move:  30ft out of melee, away from Ganiz preferably, no AoOs due to Zephyr Strike
Bonus Action:  Command Tira to strike and flee above via flyby

Tira attack:   (1d20+9)[ 25 ] 
Tira damage:  4 piercing +  (3d4)[ 8 ]  poison
 
Awful
The combat begins in earnest. Beasts lunge at the fighters, while they repay gnashing fang with their own might.

Joan's hammer cracks against the demon's ribs, and it recoils, burnt by the divine energy of her smite. A second arrow abruptly protudes from the creature's neck; pestilent black ooze leaks from the wounds, releasing a thick oily stench.

The wounded jackal avoid's Bijou's attack, but less so the energy waves from Jegger; the waves of force slice it open and cast it down into the earth, kicking limbs growing still and stiff.

Finally, Tira darts down and sinks fangs into one of the jackals, needle-like teeth sinking easily past layers and thick skin and blubber. The beast yelps and quivers, limbs starting to spasm under the effects of the venom.

But now the beasts have closed the gap, and they attempt to begin their bloody work.

A pair of them go for Jegger, coming from both sides for the killer of their kin. The first one fails, teeth scraping with hideous intend across a bracer but failing to find purchase; but the distraction has a cost. The second one has more luck, sinking its jaws deep into the warrior's shin and wrenching, trying to pull him off his feet. Pain blossoms deep across his leg, fierce and sharp, as he feels the beast's fangs scrape furrows into the very bones of his leg.

 
 Spoiler: Jackal 1 and 2 against Jegger 

Jackal 1 gets 18, miss.

Jackal 2 gets natural 20 for  19 damage.
Meet a DC14 strength check or be knocked prone 
 


While Jegger's getting mauled, the third mutant beast isn't idle. It lunges for Ganiz, foam dripping from its mouth and streaming down off-tan fur.

 
 Spoiler: Jackal 4 against Ganiz 

It had a 22 to hit, which is definitely sufficient, for  13 damage.
 Meet a DC14 strength check or be knocked prone  
 


It too succeeds, and for the first time in a very long time, Ganiz relearns the feeling of your flesh ripping beneath hostile action. He stumbles, the beast trying to drive him down, where he'd be easy prey, before he manages to disengage with long-dormant training.

By herself, now, Joan is faced by the demon.

 
 Spoiler: Chaothlobaal against Joan 

The claw:
16 to hit, fails
The hooves:
nat 1, miserable failure
The tail
12, also failure

What an unimpressive round.
 


It rages at her with hoof and claw and tail. Sparks fly from her shield as the wicked claws scrape across it, but the arrows and the smite have thrown the already unbalanced creature further off-centre, and it staggers. The deadly blade-tipped tail slams into the soil, throwing up dust but doing no damage to anything beyond the worms.

 , it bellows, and then, somehow:  

It's your name; twisted by an inhuman throat, thick with hate in every syllable.

This thing knows your name.

 
 Spoiler: Combat info 

Round summary:
Jackal 3 dies

Jackal 1 and 2 attack Jegger, 1 misses, 2 crits

4 attacks Ganiz and hits

Chaothlobaal misses every attack like a chump.


---

There's around thirty feet of smooth terrain in each direction before it  gets into rough, craggy hills - that'll count as difficult terrain when  heading uphill.

Rath is 30ft away from the main group to the west.

There's two jackal monsters 1 and 2 - to your east, next to the main group.
Jackal 1 is injured.

There's one jackal monster, 4 - to your south, next to the main group.

Jackal 3 is dead.

Chaothlobaal is next to Joan.
Chaothlobaal is injured.
 
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  22/28  Ki:  3/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Bijou whirls her staff, striking the poisoned jackal twice and lifting herself off the ground in another aerial spin, coming down with a boot to the back of its head. Once again the momentum. She tries to kick it again, but it snarls and jerks away from her foot. She spits at it, then whirls away to interpose herself between Ganiz and the one attacking him.

 
 Spoiler 
Bijou spends a ki point for flurry of blows and takes 4 attacks on the current injured jackal: 24, 18, 15, 10.

Damage for the first three is 5, 4, 5, for a total of 14.

Drunken Technique allows me to disengage and then move to get near Ganiz and his jackal.
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  45/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  Resist B/P/S, Adv on Str, +2 Dmg 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless: Yes 
 Wild Surge Effect: 4 - Magic-Infused Weapon 

Jegger swipes at one of the jackals as it sprints toward Ganiz. The attack leaves him open, and one of the jackals tries to bite down on his arm and pull him down, but its teeth glance of his bracer. As he is turning to bring his shield to bear, he feels a sharp pain slice into his leg and the sudden jerk of a jackal bringing him to the ground. Jegger uses his shield to keep himself from falling, and swings at the jackal that sank its teeth into his calf. He catches a glimpse of Bijou sailing head over feet through the air and running to guard Ganiz.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 3 
 
 Spoiler: Turn 2 Opportunity Attack 
  Opportunity Attack  - (1d20+6)[ 10 ] 
  Force Damage  - (1d8+5)[ 13 ] 
 

  Saving Throw   vs DC 14 Prone = 23 (rolled in OOC thread)

  Action   - Attack Jackal 2
  Attack 1  - (1d20+6)[ 13 ] ,   Reckless Advantage  - (1d20+6)[ 18 ] 
  Force damage  - (1d8+5)[ 8 ] 
  Extra Attack  - (1d20+6)[ 11 ] ,   Reckless Advantage  - (1d20+6)[ 7 ] 
  Force Damage  - (1d8+5)[ 8 ] 
 

 
 
  
The Hellbug
Ganiz's concentration on the demon finally costs him when the jackal lunges at him from behind.  He's barely able to turn and get his arm up and in the way, but its jaws still close around his forearm.  Even after a swift struggle frees him, blood runs freely from the jagged wound.  He stumbles back, gritting his teeth at the pain, but still aims and fires at his new attacker just as Bijou moves to engage it.  After his arrow finds its mark, Ganiz retreats further up the hill, spending a moment to tear off his now torn sleeve at the elbow and wrap it around the wound as a makeshift bandage.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Action: attack against the jackal that just bit him
Attack:  (1d20+8)[ 20 ] 
Damage:  (3d6+3)[ 12 ] 
Movement: further up the hill away from the jackal--the full 15 feet in the difficult terrain.  Skirmisher was also to run up the hill.
Bonus action: activate Second Wind to recover 11 hit points.
 
agignac
Joan shudders in horror as she recognizes the word coming from the demons mouth.   How does it know my name?!  Her stomach turns and she fights nausea, though that might be the poison working its way through her.

She swings again, twice, but the paladin is badly rattled. Her blows go wide, but at least she feels the poison's effects begin to let up.
Kushina43
The battle was a chaotic scene, and as concerned as she was with everyone's safety, she was noticeably relishing in the fight for survival - especially with how much more competent everyone here was.  No sand-buried scorpions, no too-young scouts dragged into melee, no one point to protect - this was a pure fight!  Adrenaline pumping, she nocked an arrow toward Ganiz's threat when he went down, only for Ganiz to retaliate and back away while Bijou moved between the pair.  She glanced at the bitten jackal creature and it had been struck multiple times, at least dazed if not yet down for the count - that left Jegger being assaulted by the unhurt jackal and Joan's own monstrous foe, who had unnervingly bellowed her name.  The great beast had missed all its strikes, making that threat possibly out of frustration, so she tore away from her gut instinct and instead went for the remaining jackals to end that threat for good, and then that...   thing  was done for.

She commanded Tira to go for one more flitting strike on one the dazed foe, inhaling a half-breath of Zephyr winds before exhaling to fire an arrow of her own at the target of Jegger's retaliation.  The blowback from the arrow's winds swirled to her back, and after the shortest internal debate, used that extra speed to move directly away from the giant.  She didn't think it had a way to reach her regardless, but no being too careful, and her range was great enough she didn't mind.  She glanced at the little Tira and made a quiet whistle, and the snake flew up in the air - safely, she hoped -  yet also toward the giant monster for the next stage.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Action:  Command Tira to flyby attack injured jackal if alive, using remaining move to fly 15ft upwards then the rest towards Chaoth if possible, then Extra Attack Jegger's assailant.
Tira:   (1d20+9)[ 20 ] 
Damage:   4  piercing +  (3d4)[ 10 ]  poison

Rath Zephyr Strike:   (1d20+8)[ 18 ]     ZS Advantage:   (1d20+8)[ 25 ] 
Damage:   (1d8+3)[ 11 ]  piercing +  (1d8)[ 4 ]  force

Then using ZS extra 30ft move, get far away as possible from Chaoth, likely heading further west.
 
Awful
The melee continues. Between blade, battering and poison, another one of the jackals falls, blood leaking from its mouth and nose as it collapses in the dust. The remaining jackal attacking Jegger is almost felled by a mix of poison and magically enhanced arrow, yelping at the injuries it was taking. It snaps perfunctarily at Jegger, then turns to run, limping and stumbling.

 
 Spoiler: Jackal 2 against Jegger 

16, fails
 

 Jegger has an oppotunity to strike at it as it flees. 

The beast assailing Ganiz, an arrow sticking out of its shoulder, changes target to the nearby Bijou rather than chasing after the innkeep, the ivory of its flashing jaws flashing in the halflight.
 
 Spoiler: Jackal 4 against Bijou 

21, hit for  6 damage 
  Meet a DC14 strength check or be knocked prone
  
 

The teeth draw sharp red from the traveller as the jackal attempts to bull her over, though the wound itself isn't all that deep. She can smell the thick stench of the beast; sweat and dirt, an acrid sickly scent below.



Sensing hesistation, Chaothlobaal howls in victory and goes for the kill.
 
 Spoiler: Chaothlobaal against Joan 

Three attacks.
Claw:
Nat 20 for 26!
 17 damage
 Make a DC14 Con save or become Poisoned, taking an additonal 1d6 poison damage and ending the effect on a save.  

Hooves:
 22, hits for  11 damage
 
Tail:
19, hits for  8 damage
 
 
Like a whirlwind, the demon assaults her. The hooves of the monster slam into her with brutal force, bones creaking beneath the impacts as she tries to defend. The tail whips around and the deadly blade slaps aside her shield, drawing a wound across her torso into the bargain.

The demon speaks again, the five remaining eyes alight with wicked triumph-

 

There's a sound much like  schlunk  - of meat parting beneath an impact. Joan looks down. Buried deep inside her stomach, the talons of the demon have impaled her through the gut. The spark in her dims. The strength in her limbs fades.

Chaothlobaal pulls out his claws, and like a puppet with its strings cut, Joan finds her legs collapse beneath her. She lands hard on the soil, feeling her life leak from her like spilled wine.

 

The monster screams in triumph, a horrible, discordant bellow that sets your ears ringing and fills your mouths with an iron tang. The faces embedded in its belly writhe faster, the faint hint of pained moans escaping the demonic flesh.

 Joan is downed! 
 
 Spoiler: Combat info 

Round summary:

Jackal 1 is killed, jackal 2 attacks jegger, misses and runs, exposing itself to an AoO.

The final jackal is by Bijou and hits her with an attack.

Chaothlobaal blitzs Joan and knocks her to 0 HP.


---

There's around thirty feet of smooth terrain in each direction before it  gets into rough, craggy hills - that'll count as difficult terrain when  heading uphill.
Two of the jackals are dead. One is running away from Jegger, the other next to Bijou.

Chaothlobaal is next to Joan.
Chaothlobaal is injured.
Joan is dying.
 
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  21/33 (28)  Ki:  2/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Bijou moans as she sees Joan go down, and the jackal tackles her in her distraction. As the Jackal tries to bring Bijou down, she screams defiance and clubs it once with her staff, but can't land any other attacks. At least she keeps her feet.

Her eyes dart wildly from Joan to the others on the battlefield, trying to figure out where to put herself. The tactical problem boils in her mind, but in the end that's not what decides her; it's the memory of Ganiz's daughter. In the end, she stays stood between the innkeeper and his foe, but hisses to him,  "I've  got this . Let Jegger distract it... then take its other eye." 

She sincerely hopes she does have this.

 
 Spoiler 
Ugh, 19, 11, 10 and 7 to hit. 7 damage from the first blow.
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  45/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  Resist B/P/S, Adv on Str, +2 Dmg 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless: Yes 
 Wild Surge Effect: 4 - Magic-Infused Weapon 

Jegger swings at the fleeing jackal.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 3 Opportunity Attack 
  Opportunity Attack  - (1d20+6)[ 24 ] 
  Force Damage  - (1d8+5)[ 12 ] 
 


He hears the demon speak in it's obscene tongue, and watches in horror as it lays Joan down with a strike to her stomach,    JOAN!   

Suddenly, he hears Gendo's voice again,   The carnage was all around boy, demons killing everyone there was, men, women, little kids like you. Blood flowed everywhere, higher than yer ankles, like after a heavy flood rain, but the rain was what was left o' the people the demons were killin'. The Fool strode forward, and everyone called him just that, Fool. They'll kill you, they told him, they'll tear you apart. Still, he marched forward to fight the demons. And you know what happened?  
  He won!  
  Tha's right. But not all at once. The Fool had to fight. But! While the demons were fightin' with him, they ignored all the other people. It gave them a chance to run, live another day. The Fool saved them, jus' by puttin' himself there.  

Jegger's eyes narrow on the demon horror and he sprints forward,   Joan, hang on!   Reaching the rocky terrain, he keeps his shield between him and the creature, and lashes out with his sword, a beam of pure force.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 4 

I believe Jegger can make it adjacent to Joan, going by the map Tricia made. He should be able to attack the demon from there, but Jegger also has a 40ft speed, so he could enter into 1 square of difficult terrain if need be. If he can't reach the demon, he'll move as close as he can and throw his sword (it has the Thrown property while he is raging).

  Move   - Move up to 40ft to get adjacent to the demon
  Action   - Attack the demon
  Reckless Attack  - (1d20+6)[ 25 ] ,   Advantage  - (1d20+6)[ 10 ] 
  Force Damage  - (1d8+5)[ 10 ] 
  Reckless Extra Attack  - (1d20+6)[ 9 ] ,   Advantage  - (1d20+6)[ 7 ] 
  Force Damage  - (1d8+5)[ 10 ] 

If Jegger has to throw the weapon instead, take only the first attack roll of the first attack (no Reckless, only one attack permitted), and subtract 2 from the damage (no Rage bonus). Weapon returns to his hand at end of turn.
 

 
 
  
The Hellbug
  No no no no no no no!  

Things were looking like they were starting to fall the hunters' way with each jackal slain before Joan is laid low by the demon's onslaught.  Now, though, doubt creeps into Ganiz's mind.  Bijou's urging spurs him to action, though, and he fires another arrow as Jegger takes the paladin's place next to the demon before dropping his bow and rushing to his fallen comrade.

  "Come on, come on, don't be dead,"   the innkeep murmurs as he slips into the beast's shadow, and, sure enough, he sees that the paladin's chest still rises and falls.  A lucky reach into his healer's kit gets him exactly what he needs, a roll of bandages and a small unadorned vial.  Moving with speed he didn't know he still had, Ganiz tears a generous length of cloth from the roll, dabs the liquid in the vial to it, and unsympathetically fixes it to the wound in Joan's belly to stop the worst of the bleeding.  Next, he brings the unstoppered bottle to Joan's nose, waiting for the pungent fumes to wake her.  When he sees her eyes open, he removes it.

  "Just stay down,"   is his whispered order before he scampers back towards his weapon,   "you've done enough; this won't be much longer."  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Bonus action: Cunning action to Withdraw
Using Action Surge
Action 1: shortbow attack:  (1d20+8)[ 12 ] 
damage: [roll] 3d6+3[/roll]

Action 2: Use Healer's Kit to stabilize Joan, bringing her to 1HP and conscious.

Movement: whole 30 feet to get in and out right back the direction he came.
 
Kushina43
Just as she was having a blast, reality sets in quite quickly - Joan was in danger of death, the giant screaming in triumph about freeing her.  Familiar panic briefly sets in before Ganiz and Jegger rush to her aid and protection.  While relieved, her heart continues to pound in her chest, and she redirects her emotions toward fury and aims it at the great monster just as readily as her bow, firing off two kill shot attempts while Tira continues her upward ascent directly above her target.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Sharpshooter Attack 1:   (1d20+3)[ 8 ] 
Damage:   (1d8+13)[ 21 ]  piercing
Sharpshooter Attack 2:   (1d20+3)[ 18 ] 
Damage:   (1d8+13)[ 14 ]  piercing
 
agignac
 
Pain and fury war within Joan as she slips into unconsciousness.  No! This is NOT how I die! 

If she had been alone, she would have. But for the first time in many long years, Joan is fighting with others. And their courage is mighty. The paladin's soul barely has time to slip away from her flesh before slamming back into consciousness.

Her would-be slayer stands nearby, her saviour already retreating.  The innkeep?  When she has time, she will feel shame for pre-judging him. She hears words of comfort, and her heart surges with love for these folk. There is no way, however, that she is staying down. Not for long.

For a second, Joan closes her eyes, drawing upon the well of healing power that resides within her. She uses it, channels it, burns the poison away from her body, and closes up the worst of the wounds. She feels new strength return to her muscles, and fights the instinct to leap to her feet. She will be no good to the others if the demon takes her out a second time. Instead, she watches through closed lashes, waiting for it to move away from her.

 
 Spoiler: turn 

Action: Lay on hands, 25 points available. Using 20 for healing, 5 to neutralize the poison. Readying a movement - if it moves  more than 5 feet away, she will stand up from prone. If allowed, I will use the rest of my movement (15 feet) to follow it.
 
Awful
The final jackal, slavering and wild, hurls itself against Bijou, aiming to clamp its teeth in her throat.

 
 Spoiler: The Last Jackal against Bijou 

24, hit (alternatively, if she was imposing disadvantage, it missed, but I couldn't see anything saying she was using that.)
 10 damage 
  Meet a DC14 strength check or be knocked prone  
 


While it doesn't quite get her neck, it does get her shoulder, pressing its weight against her and trying to force her to the ground where she'd be easier prey.

A pair of arrows glances off Chaothlobaal's carapace, the angle wrong for penetration, before a third sinks deep into the meat of its leonine half. Jegger's second energy wave carves another furrow into its torso, and now the creature stumbles and shudders, as if the combined wounds were catching up with it. But it does not die, not yet; it draws in a breath and screams.

 screeches the demon, another phrase in the poisonous tongue of its kind, and rears up. It hooks that single hand, still red with Joan's essence, into its belly and wrenches. It howls, louder and louder, until the very hills seem to shake with it, and your ears ring and hot pinpricks of blood well from the eardrums-

 
 Spoiler: Con save 

 Meet a DC12 constituton save or take 1d4 sonic damage and be deafened for 1d4 turns. 
 


-and its stomach gives way, the claws yanking free in a spray of noxious gore. Coils of ropy intestines, tumourous and swollen, slither forth, and with them, shapes. Humanoid figures, slick with gore and half-digested, withered and corpse-like, tumble out and thrash blindly towards the party, staggering to their feet. They gurgle, half-formed words in ruined throats, forming a barrier of meat between the warriors and the demon, reaching out melted, stubby hands as if for supplication. Meanwhile, heedless of the guts it leaves behind, Chaothlobaal begins scrambling away, up the hill, all four legs carrying it easily up the steep and rocky terrain.

 
 Spoiler: Combat info 

Round summary:

The final jackal is by Bijou and hits her with an attack.

Chaothlobaal  makes the big screm  and then rips open its stomach to release the Belly Wretches there, releasing four Belly Wretches infront of where it was.


---

There's around thirty feet of smooth terrain in each direction before it   gets into rough, craggy hills - that'll count as difficult terrain  when  heading uphill.

One jackal, injured, remains near Bijou.

Four Belly Wretches are close to Joan, Jegger and Ganiz further back, blocking the path to the demon.

Chaothlobaal is fourty feet up the hill.
Chaothlobaal is severly injured. Next turn, he'll probably be able to escape out of sight past the crest of the hill, especially as he is now - ahem - unburdened by such things as most his guts.
 
agignac
 
Joan staggered to her feet as the demon moved away from her, then stared, horrified, as it clawed its own belly open. She nearly dropped her hammer as she clapped her hands over her ears. However, reflex took over ( never lose your weapon!! ) and she ended up practically jamming the pommel of her warhammer into her left ear. It didn't work.

The headache was intense and immediate, and all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. Her eyes, on the other hand, worked fine, and she saw the demon fleeing up the hill. It knew her name, it killed the innocent; it could not be allowed to escape.

Pushing her way through the slimy, bile-smelling victims that the demon had left to defend himself, she half-ran, half-staggered up the hill.   "Chaothlobaal! Turn and fight me!"   The power of heaven flowed through her voice, and it seemed that bells rang somewhere beyond the hills. For those who could hear, that is. Joan couldn't hear her own voice, but she could feel the power flowing through her, and she prayed the demon would not have the strength of will to refuse her.

 
 Spoiler: mechanics 
As per discord, disengage, full move, bonus action to compell duel: You attempt to compel a creature into a duel. One creature that you can see within range must make a Wisdom saving throw. On a failed save, the creature is drawn to you, compelled by your divine demand. For the duration, it has disadvantage on attack rolls against creatures other than you, and must make a Wisdom saving throw each time it attempts to move to a space that is more than 30 feet away from you; if it succeeds on this saving throw, this spell doesn’t restrict the target’s movement for that turn.

The spell ends if you attack any other creature, if you cast a spell that targets a hostile creature other than the target, if a creature friendly to you damages the target or casts a harmful spell on it, or if you end your turn more than 30 feet away from the target.
 
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  10/33 (28)  Ki:  1/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

The jackal drags Bijou down to the ground and savages her; she is wrestling with it when the demon screams. Her ears ring with the unholy noise and her vision blurs.

As the jackal worries her throat she gropes for her stick and tries to clear her mind (and ears) of the vile racket. As they often do, an old song passes through her mind.

  In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade  

She gets hold of the stick, and with just the head of it clubs the jackal in the jaw; it lets go of her neck, at least.

  And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down  

She rolls it over on the ground, so she is on top of it now, pinning it in place and squeezing the air out of it with her knees, and holds it there with her staff slammed across its throat until it stops twitching and is still. Until she hears cartilage crunch.

  Or cut him 'til he cried out in his anger and his shame  

She staggers upright, blood running from her wounds, ears still ringing, and pushes towards the demon; a wretch rises up in her way.

  "I am leaving, I am leaving"  

She punts it as hard as she can with her boot and strides past it, following Joan in pursuit of the demon.

  But the fighter still remains.  
 
 Spoiler 
Loses 20 feet (of 40, 20 left) to stand up from prone.

Attack, extra attack, bonus action attack. 20, 19, 18 against the jackal, doing 6 + 6 + 5 = 17 damage, killing it.

Moves ~10 feet towards the wretches (!10 left). Spends one ki point for FOB attack. 12 against the wretch, doing 7 damage. FOB triggers Drunken Technique - disengage and + 10 feet of movement (~20 left).

Moves past the wretches into difficult terrain (movement halved to ~10) and moves as far towards Joan as she can.
 
The Hellbug
Ganiz is just dropping a stone into his sling when Chaotholobaal unleashes its hideous screech.  Covering his ears isn't enough to keep the horrid sound out and, as the demon disgorges its horrible spawn, it's all the innkeep has to focus hard to keep from gagging.  When he looks up again, the demon as turn to run.    No you don't.  You pay for what you've done.  Right here.  Right now.    Ears ringing badly, Ganiz changes his direction again, scrambling back up the hill around the wretches and launching a stone at the retreating demon.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Bonus action to dash, action to attack with sling
Using full movement to go around the wretches and up towards Chaotholobaal--should put me about 15 or 20 feet past them depending on how much room they take up, by my reckoning.

Attack:  (1d20+8)[ 11 ] 
Damage:  (1d4+3)[ 7 ] 
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  45/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions:  Resist B/P/S, Adv on Str, +2 Dmg 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless: Yes 
 Wild Surge Effect: 4 - Magic-Infused Weapon 

Jegger is engaged with the demon when he hears the innkeeper near him tending to Joan. Suddenly, she is back on her feet, and healing her worst wounds with magic. As Jegger positions for another strike, the demon suddenly lets loose a shrieking wail, and rips into its own guts and pulls forth slithering wretches that pour forth onto the ground between it and the others. It takes off up the hill. Joan and the others give chase as Jegger dispatches the creatures left behind and follows after the demon.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 5 

  Action   - Attack Belly Wretches
  Reckless Attack  - (1d20+6)[ 26 ] ,   Advantage  - (1d20+6)[ 23 ] 
  Damage  - (1d8+5)[ 9 ] 
  Reckless Extra Attack  - (1d20+6)[ 7 ] ,   Advantage  - (1d20+6)[ 23 ] 
  Damage  - (1d8+5)[ 7 ] 
  Move   - Jegger will move toward the demon.

40ft speed. Jegger will move 10ft (20ft of movement because of difficult terrain) and make a running long jump. Jegger can clear 16ft with a running long jump, so he will clear 10ft in the air (30ft of movement so far) and land in the final square (40ft movement total, because final square is difficult terrain)

So Jegger moves 5 squares, but only 3 of them count as difficult terrain because he jumps over 2 of them.
 

 
 
  
Kushina43
A bloodcurdling scream from the injured abomination pierces the air, Ratharon seemingly only saved from deafening by proximity, and in horror she watches it carve into its own gut and spill out intestinal tract.  Even worse than the self disembowelment is the result:  a quartet of humanoid-resembling wretches that block the rest of the party from pursuing it as it flees.  Joan and Bijou, the latter killing the final jackal creature in retaliation, opt to move toward the great monster.  The former uses a form of magic and powerful words to compel the thing to turn around and fight her, keeping it from fleeing out of sight.  Ganiz also goes around to pursue the monster - only Jegger is left to fend off the wretches from its gut, striking them before also heading toward their origin. With everyone else aiming for the big guy, little attention is paid to the new wretches -  understandable, they're gross and not the biggest problem here - but  everyone  turning their backs wasn't the best move.  She ends the zephyr winds and reaches for her pouch, pulling out some thorns and casting another spell of her own.  The thorns' essence combine into a magical arrow and she lets it fly, planting itself on the ground.  Thorny brush erupts from the point of contact, vines entangling the wretches in a circular area stopping just short of Bijou and Ganiz.  Glancing up at Tira, who has endured the scream just fine, she clicks her tongue and has her circle the wretches - any who move will be put down by the pair.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Action:  Casting Spike growth, 20ft radius difficult terrain, 2d4 piercing per 5ft moved.
 Point of casting should be at least 25ft from Bijou and Ganiz, keeping them both out of range and the wretches within.

Free:  Tira moves if necessary to above the wretches, still 15ft in the air
 
Awful
Thorns burst up from the ground where the arrow lands, thick briars gouging at the belly wretches' legs as they shuffle towards the party's nearest members.

One of them topples as the previous wounds combine with the thorns to drag it down - but , as if animated by some terrible need, it pushes itself back to its feet and continues, heedless of the flesh it leaves behind.

The difficult terrain, however, prevents them from climbing the hill close enough to claw at any of the party, as they fumble and groan their way closer.

Not so for Chaothlobaal. Those deafened are lucky, for another vile phrase of demonic drips from its mouth as it slowly turns. It is terribly wounded; its reanimated flesh is ragged, an eye missing, stomach hanging in strips.

It does not care. Magic thrums in its head, stoking its bloodlust. It charges.

Once again the paladin and the demon clash, once again the terrible claws gouge her flesh, but the paladin's shield turns away the cruel hoovees and crueler tail.

 
 Spoiler: Chaothlobaal against Joan 

22, 14, 16, one hit
 12 damage
 Make a DC14 Con save or become Poisoned, taking an additonal 1d6 poison damage and ending the effect on a save.  
 


The end of the battle is nigh.


 
 Spoiler: Combat info: 
Round summary:

I'll a little hazy now on where people are in particular, but the combat is nearly over, so assuyme the belly wretches are near but not quite in arms reach. They're out of the thorns now.
One of them died to the thorns but suceeded on undead fortitude so remained at 1HP.

Chaothy fails its save against Compelled Duel, and hits once.


---

There's around thirty feet of smooth terrain in each direction before it    gets into rough, craggy hills - that'll count as difficult terrain   when  heading uphill.

Four Belly Wretches are close, all of them wounded to various degrees.

Chaothlobaal is next to Joan.
 
agignac
Joan shakes off the poison - it is an odd thing to become accustomed to the poison of a demon's bite. Perhaps her father's blood is to be thanked for that. But not now. The present is for ending this threat once and for all.

Unfazed by the globules of flesh and guts hanging from its belly, Joan steps forward, booted foot squelching on the gory ground. Her voice deepened by righteous anger, she says,   "Be this the end of you, fell creature!"  

Blooded but not yet defeated, the demon dodges the first swing of the hammer. However, it isn't ready for the paladin's quick pirouette, using the momentum of her swing to come around again, and smash the hammer into the demon's torn chest. A peal of thunder crashed over the demon, ringing in all their ears (if they could still hear, that was). Joan prepared herself for the counterattack, though she hoped it might not have any fight left in it.

 
 Spoiler 
 bonus to cast thunderous smite, one hit, 16 damage. Str saving throw or be pushed 10 feet and knocked prone. DC 12
 
Awful
With the crash of thunder, Joan's hammer drives into the monster's chest. The ribs give way, organs pulp; the demon rears back, toppling, and it lands heavily on the rocky hillside. It kicks once, twice, thrice, spasmodically, before its whole body unclenches like a muscle. Its eyes fix on the one who killed it, then swivel to stare at each of the five in turn.

  it says again, though most of you are too deafened to hear. Chaothlobaal's five eyes blink slowly. Its mouth works, and it speaks a final time with spiteful satisfaction. Black ichor leaks from its mouth.

 

The fire fades from the monster's eyes. Abruptly, it changes - from living horror to just a- thing, broken and illformed from the moment of creation.

As the demon ceases to move, so too do the wretched souls it had spilled from its stomach. With the relief brought only by the cessation of terrible pain, they collapse into pieces, mangled bodies no longer held together by the demon's malign will.

 Thank you,  the wind seems to sigh into your minds, then is gone with the breeze.

 Combat over! 
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  10/33 (28)  Ki:  1/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Bijou sags momentarily to the ground, panting. This is no place to rest, but just for a moment, she needs to... whoof.

 "If that b**** comes back now,"  she says in the too-loud voice of the deaf,  "I vote we take the money." 
The Hellbug
Ganiz approaches the demon's corpse and draws his scimitar as the ringing in his ears begins to fade.  He glares at its eviscerated body, watching for any sign that it's not as dead as it appears.  After a few moments, relief floods in, and he lets out a deep breath, sheathes his blade, and walks back down the hill to collect his bow, wiping a stray tear from his eye.    "Wouldn't be any good,"   he replies to Bijou's joking,   "whoever that was is either a demon or a sorcerer--any of their gifts would surely be a curse upon all of us."    A closer inspection of his arm where the jackal bit him reveals it to be nothing serious--painful, to be sure, but not likely to slow him down (or at least it wouldn't have years ago).    "Is everyone alright?"   he asks, looking from each of his companions to the next but settling on Joan, whom he approaches cautiously.  There's no arrow nocked, but the innkeep's bow is in his hand as he continues, his attention now all on the paladin,   "because if you are, I think it's a damn fine time to explain how that thing knew your name."  
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  45/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: - 
 Raging: - 
 Reckless: - 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 

The battle had gotten very loud very quickly, between the demon's foul shriek and Joan's thundering strike. The mighty blow is enough to fell the beast, and it mutters something profane to them before breathing its last breath. Jegger can't make out the words, spoken in some foul tongue. He stands over it, he and Ganiz beside each other, waiting for it to muster back to life. It doesn't. His gaze turns to their surroundings, searching for jackals, or any sign of Glint. He feels something in his hand and looks down to see his weapon had returned to its normal form, and, giving one last look around, he sheathes it.

His attention returns to the others just in time to hear Ganiz challenge Joan. Jegger thinks back through the hectic combat, and recalls that the creature  did  seem to know Joan's name. But did it mean anything? Maybe it knew all their names if given the chance to utter them. The thought was unsettling, and Jegger waited for Joan to gather herself and respond.

 
 
  
agignac
 
Joan's ears start to ring, the first sign that her hearing loss isn't permanent. Straining to hear any threats over the ringing, Joan surveys the battlefield, making sure the demon, the jackals and the other...things... were down for good. Only when she is satisfied, does she allow herself to sink to her knees.

Bending her head, she clasps her hands together and prays,   "Gods of my Father, thank you for lending me your power, that I might have vengeance upon this fell demon. Thank you for your healing gifts, that I may fight on another day. Thank you for the gift of these companions, without whom the demon would have triumphed over good this day. " 

 There's no arrow nocked, but the innkeep's bow is in his hand as he continues, his attention now all on the paladin,  "because if you are, I think it's a damn fine time to explain how that thing knew your name. " 

Joan is not all right, but she will survive this. She starts to pull herself to her feet, then the rest of Ganiz's question registers with her. She quickly takes in the innkeep's battle-ready stance, the suspicion in his voice.

Leaving her weapon on the ground, Joan regains her feet, and keeps her hands neutrally at her side. For a moment she can't decide what to say; after a moment, she settles on the truth.   "So, you heard that too. I wasn't sure if that was only in my mind. The question is top of mind for me as well. I have never met this beast before, though I have felled other demonkind. I do not, generally, introduce myself to them before combat."   She cannot keep a hint of a smile off her face, however. The thought that her name was known in whatever hell spawned these creatures meant that she was making an impact. Joan quickly wiped the expression from her face, and chided herself for vanity. After all, she was but a vessel for the work of the gods.
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  10/33 (28)  Ki:  1/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Bijou plants her staff and pushes back to her feet.

 "Look,"  she says, her voice more natural now, although still weary.  "I'm not saying I couldn't do this again today, but I'd definitely need to lie down for an hour first. I don't know about the rest of you."

"Can we find a flat, clean place to rest before you start whatever this is, Ganiz?" 
The Hellbug
Joan's answer is unsatisfying, but that seems to just be the way of it.  She certainly wasn't an ally of whatever that thing was, not with what it did to her.    "Not starting anything,"   Ganiz answers, waving Bijou off,   "just a question and an answer."    He bends down to unstring his bow as he nonetheless directs another thought at Joan.    "But it was definitely your name, though, you agree.  How long have you been on the way to New Zarian?  A demon and a demon slayer aren't exactly everyday things out here, and yet: two in the same day.  If it's coincidence, it's awfully unlikely, and not everyone can get by playing the Fool."  
Kushina43
With a thought and the release of tension with another breath, Ratharon is able to make the thorny brush recede rapidly, letting her walk over to everyone else at a brisk pace.  She speeds up when Ganiz confronts Joan about the demon's knowledge, hearing all but only close enough at Bijou's suggestion of rest.   "Yes, indeed, we all need rest after what has transpired..   Especially  you, Joan, you've been put through the wringer.  Back down these hills I saw spots flat enough we can all sit for a spell, away from..."   She gestures at the abominable corpses scattered about.   "You know."   She glances upwards and thrice short-whistles, the little serpent flying down to rest on Ratharon's shoulder.

 "I have questions too, mind, but they aren't urgent."   Despite agreeing with the suggestion and viewing the bodies with disgust, Ratharon's curiosity can't help but be piqued, inspecting the giant corpse for any kind of answer.  For which question, or if she even had the knowledge base for any worth asking, she was uncertain, and used the time investigating to equally ponder its final words.   "We delay fate, huh, creature..?  Curious words..  Intelligent, so must have meaning..  I expect this won't be the last I see of your kind." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
I don't expect anything to come of it, but Rath will be investigating so I'm rolling
Investigation:   (1d20+1)[ 4 ] 
 
agignac
 
  "Through the ringer..."   Joan murmurs, smiling a bit at the image. She felt more like she'd been chewed and clawed, instead of squeezed and stretched, but she understood the sentiment. She understood it a lot.

Picking up her hammer and shield again, she said,   "I am not averse to resting. In fact, perhaps it is a good time to camp for the night. Let us find a good place, away from this,"   she gestured to the carnage around them.   "After a meal, we may be able to approach this puzzle with logic, rather than spleen."  
The Hellbug
Ganiz nods.    "Fair enough,"   he agrees,   "no point pushing on in the dark.  We should do something about the body first, though.  It looks dead now, but hell take me if I leave it any chance to get up and stab me in the back."  

He then turns to Rathoran.    "Can your friend make it to New Zarian and back from here and can he take a message?  Not now, mind, but tomorrow morning when there's more light.  There's more  something  out here than just what killed Jonas, but they should know that justice has been done for him and that we'll be gone a little longer than expected."  
Kushina43
Ratharon nods her agreement with the body - no sense leaving it intact, in case something else could to to it whatever it could do with those twisted thralls.   "All I have is my dagger, though, it'd be slow going butchering this on my own."   Before further affirmation, she pulls out said dagger and quickly slices off a thin strip of its flesh, stuffing it into a flask for potential study later.  She also carefully uses another flask to bottle the ichor dripping from its body for the same reason.   "Now we have some small proof of its demise, and something for later study when more inevitably show up.  Between the jackals, its thralls, and that Glint's mentions of superiors, this won't be the last of them, I'm certain." 

She turns to face Ganiz before continuing with the body, gently petting the snake's sleeping head with a finger as she responds to his request.   "Yes, of course, Tira is also trained to carry messages across distances.  I didn't get the chance to set up a home scent marker, so the time may vary, but I'll have her fly in New Zarian's direction with the message and she will understand enough on her own to get there and back." 
Awful
Tira flits away into the dusk, message and package tight in her coils.

Battered and bruised - or worse - from the combat, the group camps for the night, as far from the demon's corpse as can be managed in the clearing.

The little scrubby vines and bushes of the local undergrowth burn poorly, the little fire casting a unstable, flickering light. The smoke is thin and acrid, a strange iron tang to the scent. With the unsteady heat of it, water is boiled, wounds tended, and a meal warmed enough to stave off the encroaching night's chill.

It's an uneasy rest.

Toads chirp mockingly from the river, visible only as the occasional flash of fire caught reflecting from their eyes. Being on watch is a lonely, tense thing, trying to keep an eye on the shadowed hilltops, the still mound of Chaothlobaal's corpse, and the occasional flicker of bats against the star - strewn night sky.

No attack comes, however. Nothings comes for your blood down the hills. Chaothlobaal's body remains cold and still as stone. As dawn claws its way between the crevices of the hills to shed it's light across you, the group rouses and begins to prepare, feeling the ache of their injuries and the rocky afterechoes of a poor earthen mattress - and only then you realise you have a guest.

A sand-cat stretches itself by the ashes of the fire, enjoying the faint remnants of the heat of it.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Tira will be back in a minute with a couple of messages once this immediate scene is over.
 
agignac
Joan was exhausted and sore, and looking forward to sleep.  Thank the gods of my Father that I have companions to share watch with.  She had slept many lonely nights on the road, one ear alert to danger, and never feeling rested. A two-hour watch in the night was luxury compared to that.

Not that the night was particularly luxurious. The ground was hard, the air slightly foul, and the body of the demon too near for comfort. Still, rest was replenishing, and she awoke feeling better than she had the evening before. Until, that is, she saw the cat.

For a moment she freezes, staring at the unholy feline.  Is it the same cat? How can one tell sand cats apart?  Eyes narrowing, she kept her voice very low and spoke in angelic,  "Why are you here, creature? Do you spy on us for your master? Be gone!"  Even if the cat didn't actually speak, whoever was using it as eyes and ears was sure to understand.
The Hellbug
Ganiz's message back to the Tumbleweed Inn had been short and sweet:

  We found the demon that killed Jonas.  It's dead; we're all safe for now and so is New Zarian.  Troubling news: some kind of sorcerer or demon summoner in the hills--had some sort of power over the demon, mentioned they were working for others.  We'll be looking into it deeper tomorrow.  Demon seemed to know we were coming.  Be careful.

PS: Adela, these travelers are brave and very capable.  All of us are in as good of hands as we could wish for.  Love you all; let the kids know I'll be back in a few days.  Stay safe.  

______

The next morning, Ganiz wakes up sore.  A bedroll on the hard ground is a poor trade for a proper bed, and he hasn't stretched a bowstring in years, and his muscles are quick to remind him of the fact...loudly.  Nevertheless, the innkeep pulls himself to his feet with a sigh and heads toward the river to get water to boil.  He returns just in time to see Joan staring at the sandcat, and he stops instead of shooing it away and stepping towards the sad coals.    "Something against sandcats?"   he asks the holy warrior,   "because if that's the case, you're not in for a good time.  These hills are full of 'em.  Not a single one of them has ever bothered to ask permission for anything, but they're good for the rats.  Don't have 'em where you're from?"  
TriciaOso
Bijou's preparations for sleep consisted mostly of taking off her boots and untying the fretwork of scraps that keep her wardrobe of second-hand clothes fitting well. (And tying her hair up in silk.) Now she works through the reverse process of binding her calves, forearms and waist.

She's singing again this morning, having recovered a bit from the grisly shocks and pain of the previous day. Her voice is low and melodious and quiet, a background noise; she's working on something and it isn't quite ready for public consumption. You might hear snatches of it, though.

 
 Spoiler: Untitled 🎵 
  ...I heed the high voices, I go where I'm sent
To mow down the men who refuse to repent
I'm a scythe in a field full of briars...

... judgment and heaven is nigh...

...won't call me Mother or Sister or Wife
They will know me or not by the strength of my life
I will burn with a light of my own..  .
 

 "They're good luck, I've heard,"  she adds to the conversation about sandcats.  "Although people will say that about anything." 
agignac
Joan looks up in surprise at the others' words.   "Good luck? I've always heard the opposite. Cats of all sorts are used by demons as spies."  

She stepped back from this particular cat, still a bit wary.   "Though, if they are common to the region, perhaps there is nothing ominous about the presence of this particular individual."    Maybe.  She would keep her eyes on it, just in case.

Later, she finds herself humming a snatch of tune, and realizes she'd picked it up from Bijou's soft singing.
The Hellbug
  "Good luck or bad, this one's gonna have to move,"   Ganiz says, setting the water down and stepping closer to the cat to shoo it with his foot.   "Now get out, you! You don't wanna get burned."    Once the cat's gone, he gets down on his knees to coax fire out of the embers once again and soon has a little flame flickering.
Dr.Samurai
Jegger sits quietly in the dim twilight just before dawn breaks. The air is not so cold now, but cool. He checks the wrappings on the bite the jackal gave him. His leg is sore, but he moves it around and it doesn't make him wince. He watches the others for a time, wondering what the group will do now. Return to New Zarian or... find out what is going on.

  Joan,   he finally says,   you have killed demons before?  
Awful
The cat shoots Ganiz an imperious look, then slowly saunters to its feet.

" ao !" It meows indignantly. Slender tail waving like an undulating snake, it strolls off into the hills, nose in the air.

It's not long after the second animal visitor of the day arrives: Tira wings her way in from the horizon, a package held somewhat awkwardly in her coils.

Investigation reveals a pair of slender green glass vials, topped with plugs of wax, and a pair of notes - one of them unaddressed, the other folded and marked for Ganiz. The writing on the unaddressed letter he recognises as the unsteady scrawl of the Mayor; the second as the crabby handwriting of his wife.

The mayor's note reads this:

 
 Originally Posted by the mayor's note 
 Well done and good work we are impressed. Do be careful old Zarian hasn't been visited in decades who knows what might be waiting there. We are holding the fort and hoping for your success.

The good doctor was up all night brewing these in case you were hurt I hope you find them useful. 
 

The mayor's signature is, as always, an illegible scrawl. Looking at the little glass vials, each has a twist of parchment around it, with  healing draught  written on it in a careful hand.


 
 Originally Posted by Adela's note 
 Ganiz - praying for your safety. I know you're doing vital work, but be careful. I've promised the little ones you'll have an exciting story to tell once you're back, so make sure you do. Love, love, love. -A 
 
agignac
 
 Originally Posted by Dr.Samurai 
 Jegger sits quietly in the dim twilight just before dawn breaks. The air is not so cold now, but cool. He checks the wrappings on the bite the jackal gave him. His leg is sore, but he moves it around and it doesn't make him wince. He watches the others for a time, wondering what the group will do now. Return to New Zarian or... find out what is going on.

  Joan,   he finally says,   you have killed demons before?   
 

The paladin looks up at Jegger's question.   "Yes, several, though not as many as I would like. It is my sacred oath to do so, to help rid the world of the King's demonic taint, to help finish what the Fool started. I have travelled far and wide, my oath guiding me, and demons are often my destination."   Her hand went to her throat, her fingers touching the rough, red scar around her throat.   "They are not easy to kill."   She is silent a moment, and then added, her voice low,   "It is good to fight with companions. It have been alone for a long time."  
Dr.Samurai
Jegger would normally take the type of claims Joan is making as the tales of a conman. But he saw the woman get right back up after Ganiz helped her and run straight at the demon, commanding the creature with an imperious challenge. He is no less than impressed.

  So, what do you think we should do now?  
Kushina43
Ratharon is eager to rest up after the day's events, eyeing the cat the following morning but doing and saying naught about it.  Tira had taken off with the message and came back with even more, her handler taking the letters and items.  She hands Ganiz the letter marked for him, reads the mayor's note aloud - well, she summarizes the note, at least, with  "Good job, be careful, Old Zarian unused for decades, doctor brewed these for us hurt."   She passes the note and one of the draughts to Joan -  "Seem like you'll need it later on,"  - for the former to be passed around while she tends to the tired serpent, who's currently making use of a carved wooden perch Ratharon placed the night before.  Once all is done with the papers, she rolls them up and puts them carefully in her bag.

Aside from the reading of the mayor's letter, she's been quiet this morning, only now joining conversation with Joan and Jegger, sitting down beside the former.

 "I know the feeling.  The latter, that is, fighting alone only gets one so far.  Demon hunting is.. beyond my field of expertise.  Though I can certainly get into it if we get the chance to defeat more things like the monster yesterday, preferably with much less injury.  "   She then looks at Jegger's injured leg, then responds to him.   "Once we're all rested up - including Tira, which might mean a little more time - I suggest we get to the bottom of this.  Whoever or whatever Glint is, they, the demons they command, and the masters they serve are a danger that cannot be left to fester." 

She starts to follow up, then pauses as another thought crosses her mind, and she turns back to Joan.   "Bit of a long shot, I know, but the demon said something before it died.  Some of you looked rattled enough by its screams you may not have heard, but as I approached I know it uttered the phrase "You only delay fate."  Are demons known to be a cryptic lot, or am I right to be concerned enough to find the root of the problem?" 
TriciaOso
Bijou shakes her head.  "It sounds much like something the villain in any wonder-tale might say,"  she says.  "But by the same token, I never heard a story where they came this far and turned around to go home. We're in it, now." 
agignac
 
 Originally Posted by Kushina43 
  "Once we're all rested up - including Tira, which might mean a little more time - I suggest we get to the bottom of this.  Whoever or whatever Glint is, they, the demons they command, and the masters they serve are a danger that cannot be left to fester." 

She starts to follow up, then pauses as another thought crosses her mind, and she turns back to Joan.   "Bit of a long shot, I know, but the demon said something before it died.  Some of you looked rattled enough by its screams you may not have heard, but as I approached I know it uttered the phrase "You only delay fate."  Are demons known to be a cryptic lot, or am I right to be concerned enough to find the root of the problem?"  
 

Joan looks up, alarmed.   "I have never heard a demon speak anything other than hatred and threats. Certainly never has one spoken to me of fate before. But neither has one ever known my name."   She began to pack up her gear, clearly eager to be off.   "We certainly must continue; for there is more evil here to be rooted out."   Joan paused, then looked up at the others, a moment of vulnerability on her face.   "At least, I must continue. I would be...pleased...if we continue to together."  
The Hellbug
Ganiz's face softens as he reads Adela's short note, happy that everyone's safe back in town but still carrying a worry in the back of his mind for every day he's absent--too many questions left unanswered at this point for him to rest easy.  He folds the note carefully and tucks it into his pocket, then catches up with the others' conversation after he reads the mayor's message himself and passes it on to Jegger.

Rathoran's observation about the demon's last words normally wouldn't bother Ganiz especially--any more than the demon would in the first place, that is.  It's easy enough to chalk them up to mere spite, but together with Chaothlobaal knowing Joan's name and Glint's ominous offer, they send a shiver down the innkeep's spine.  Whatever they fought yesterday is far more than anything he thought he'd ever have to handle again, and he can't help but dread the promise of more.  He remains silent on the matter, though, as it looks like the travelers are already set on investigating further, and speculation won't have been any good once they all see whatever's waiting in the old town's ruins with their own eyes.  He's a moment away from agreeing with Joan and Bijou and suggesting they all get moving before the day gets hot, when he considers Rathoran's pet dozing on her perch.  It feeling impolite to speed the ranger along when he had been the one to suggest sending the message in the first place, Ganiz chooses to be patient and merely nods in agreement with the idea to investigate further.

Instead, the innkeep turns his attention to Rathoran.    "Clever little pet you have there.  Tira, you said her name was?"   he asks, pointing to the sleeping serpent,   "I've seen folks with birds trained for hunting or delivering messages, hawks and falcons and the like, and I've worked with bigger beasts myself but never snakes.  Must have been tricky--been all over this desert, and I've never seen anything quite like it.  What's it take to train something like that?"  
Kushina43
 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "Clever little pet you have there.  Tira, you said her name was?"   he asks, pointing to the sleeping serpent,   "I've seen folks with birds trained for hunting or delivering messages, hawks and falcons and the like, and I've worked with bigger beasts myself but never snakes.  Must have been tricky--been all over this desert, and I've never seen anything quite like it.  What's it take to train something like that?"   
 

Ratharon turns to Ganiz and nods.   "Tricky is the word for it, alright.  She bit me and some of my tribemates plenty of times, which was fine since the venom doesn't work until adulthood.  Raising from an egg is a requirement, for both imprinting and so you can teach out the initial fear response to larger things, which is many things even as an adult, let alone a hatchling.   And  that  complicated teaching her how to fight properly.  Don't get me started on the delivery training." 

She turns back to the sleeping serpent, turning on its perch to lie belly up, wings lazily draped outward.   "Taming one of them, especially as a field companion, is really not worth it for most people.. too much time, patience, pain, and wild instinct to work with..  but I made it work for us." 
Awful
The group pack up and begin heading their way towards the ruins of Old Zarian.

Behind them, still and silent, the corpse of Choathlobaal lays, untouched by scavengers, until it disappears behind the crests of the hills.

It's hard going. The uneven ground is treacherous, easy to turn an ankle, hard beneath your boots. An hour passes, then two, in harsh walking. The wounds taken from yesterday thrum with the effort, but discomfort isn't anything the party would allow to stop them.

The soil here has taken on a reddish hue, clay and iron, cracked and crumbling dry. Above, the sky is a deep and endless blue, extending upwards into infinity. A few wisps of white clouds drift high, like lost souls on their way round the Wheel. A lone vulture circles, looking for an early lunch.

Ganiz and Bijou hear it about the same time. From up ahead, from beyond the crest of the next hill over, comes the rustling of men on the march. Footsteps and clanking of metal on metal; the clack-clack of iron-shod hooves on stones; an occasional murmur of conversations held lowly. Whoever it is, they're coming from the direction of Old Zarian in a group.

You've got a brief amount of time to make a decision. Step up to the crest of the hills, you'll be in a commanding position, but you'll likely be seen. Here on the slope, they can't see you yet until they cross over, giving you time to hide, if you're so inclined.
Dr.Samurai
Jegger's only companion for too long has been Gendo. He loves the man, who has been a father to him, and would die for him, but he made for an irate traveling companion on most days. Sitting in the morning light, with a demon hunter, an acrobat performer who's singing most of the times she aint talking, and listening to Rathoran explain the ins and outs of taming snakes to a retired warrior-turned-innkeeper somehow made Jegger feel at home amongst these strangers who are now his comrades.

He wants to go back and tell Gendo that they fought an actual demon, that he was able to control the blade of force. That they avenged the boy. But the purpose of traveling to New Zarian was to find a place where Gendo might get some help, or at least where they can settle for a while and be safe. And that can't happen so long as Glint is out here calling demons.

When the time comes to decide what to do, Jegger agrees with the others to move on to Old Zarian and see what was about.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The going is rough but Jegger marches on. With everyone in the party able to fend for themselves, he is able to focus on himself and navigate the terrain with relative ease, a different experience than when he is with Gendo. The sound of boots marching stirs him from his thoughts and he shares a glance with the others. His instincts tell him they should hide, but he asks the others   Are there soldiers stationed near Old Zarian?  
agignac
      
 
Joan leaves behind the body of Choathlobaal without a second thought. Her job is to take the lives of demons, and she has done that. There is more evil ahead, so that is where she needs to point her boots.

As they walk, she asks Ratharon,   "You mentioned your tribe. Where are they? And why have you left them? If that's not an impertinent question,"   she hastily adds, hoping she didn't offend.

She doesn't hear what the others do until they point it out. The clanking of her chainmail, while it's a sound she's used to, does impede her hearing somewhat. Adding to Jegger's question, she asks,   "What other cities are out this way?"   
 
  
Awful
Those travelling from Little Bluerock would remember that town has a small complement of rangers - a handful of sunworn folks, seemingly perpetually stained with the Dry's dust.

Of course, they'd be somewhat out their way here, to say the least.

 
 Spoiler: Ganiz 
Ganiz would know there's no real soldiers out here. Closest they normally come to that is the mercenaries that guard the occasional caravan rolling through.

No cities up north through the hills, either. Past Old Zarian were a few little villages, then the hills rise into the Attican mountains. No room for a city.
 

 
 Spoiler: Rathoran 

The desert tribes like the one you're from tend to be decent enopugh in a tussle, and many have the equipment to match, but they tend to be further east, out in the Dry. You know there were a few little villages in these hills, not much relevant to anything, but then further north the hiills rise into the Attican mountains. No room for a city.
 
The Hellbug
Ganiz listens to Rathoran's explanation with interest but merely silently studies the serpent from a distance until everyone's ready to go.

___________________

Out in the hills, Ganiz is already trying to recognize who or what the footfalls could be coming from when his companions mention them.    "There shouldn't be anyone out here.  You heard the mayor: no cities, no soldiers, no one,"   he answers urgently, scanning the barren environment.    "Hurry!"   he suddenly continues, pointing at a group of rocks along the hill a short way off,   "if we move quickly enough, we can make it to cover before they crest the hill."  
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Bijou falls into step with Ganiz, but whispers,   "Ghosts? I know it sounds crazy, but are we considering, ghost army?"  
agignac
      
 It it not generally Joan's practice to duck out of sight when she hears others approaching. However, her concern isn't with soldiers, but with demons, and if her companions deem this the best course of action, she will heed their advice.

Hearing Bijou's concern, she asks,   "Ghosts, truly? Are they real? And would they be so noisy?"  

Following the others, she scrambles up the slope to hide in the shelter of the boulders. 
 
  
Kushina43
 "No no, Joan, you not prying,"  Ratharon insists as they walk, Tira opting to drape along her left shoulder.   "They live in the Dry further east, and are probably what you expect for people living out there.  As for me..  Well, I've always been a bit of a black sheep, if I have the right metaphor.  Elders didn't like my attitude very much to begin with, and we parted ways after I led a charge to save a merchant caravan passing by."   Her expression dims a bit mentioning the charge despite her efforts, but doesn't elaborate further.

A bit surprised she didn't notice the sound of approaching armor - memories must have dulled her senses - she replies swiftly with  "Ghosts, probably not, yet I know nothing in these hills that could make such sound, and other tribes would be  very  out of their way.."   On the suggestion of cover, she nods and makes her way to the rocks, getting her bow ready.
TriciaOso
 
 AC:  16  HP:  28/28  Ki:  5/5
 PP:  16  PInv:  11     PIns:  16

Bijou shrugs.  "I know a dozen stories about people who camped on an old battlefield and woke up to the memory of the battle playing out around them. Spirits of soldiers or bad memories trapped in the ground."

"I don't know if they're  real , but I never saw a demon before, either."  She burrows into the cover and holds her breath.
Awful
The party slides into cover behind a outcropping. Out of sight behind stones jutting from the hill like broken bones, hoary with moss, they hear the footsteps coming closer.

A voice comes into legibility.

 "-ellin' you, prox, I was hearin' voices-" 
Another voice cuts in, gruff and heavy.
 "Alright, then, everyone take a breather. Quinn, Jackson, how's it doin'?" 

A murmur of more voices. The gruff voice speaks again, more snappishly.
 "Well, make sure it's ready, then, damn it. I'm not havin' it blow up next to me." 

There's a moment of quiet. Footsteps scuff on the hardy stone in a few directions, but none close to the rocks where you're hiding.

Finally there's a couple of minutes of silence.
The harsh voice of the group's leader sounds out again.

 "Y'all might as well come out and stop hidin' behind them rocks." 
Dr.Samurai
Jegger steps out from behind the outcropping, all confidence,   Hiding? Nah, just waterin' the grass.  

He looks for the one with the harsh voice barking out the orders,   Who's the one ordering you all around?  
agignac
Joan
      
 Joan was relieved by the sound of the stranger's voices. They sounded like people, not ghosts. She shook her head, annoyed at herself, but the thought of spirits had unsettled her. She knew it was ridiculous; considering what she did for a living. Still.

When Jegger stepped out from behind the rock, Joan was only a step behind. She had her shield strapped to her left arm, but carried the warhammer over her shoulder in a relaxed grip. She glanced around at the opposing company, trying to figure out what it was they hadn't wanted to blow up. 
 
  
Kushina43
 "Blast, and I just got comfortable, too.  No pun intended."  Ratharon jokes as she steps out the same time as Joan, putting her longbow on her back.  She makes a gesture with the hand while its out of sight, rubbing index and middle fingers together, and Tira understands it to mean "stay hidden" and the little serpent remains flat against the rocks unmoving.   "Forgive our suspicion, we had our own problems to deal with in the area and weren't expecting other arrivals.  Ratharon Dhodom, by the way, good to meet you."   She does a short bow while introducing herself, hoping to come across as polite and, more pressingly, non-threatening.
The Hellbug
Ganiz sighs and steps out from behind the rocks with the others.  He doesn't add anything to the conversation yet but instead takes careful stock of the strangers' bearing.
Awful
Those who step out see a group of nine hard-worn men in a mismatched collection of armour and weapons, an eclectic mix of leather, splint and maille pieces, but they look well-maintained and well used to. Every single man has a dusty, tanned look, and every last one has a cross scarred beneath their left eye. They squint at your suspiciously, eyes narrowed beneath the brims of leather hats or battered helms.

They all have weapons to hand: axes and crossbows, mostly. One of them has a strange contraption strapped to his back, a big tank with piping down to a metal rod in his hands, and as you emerge he nervously fiddles with it.

One of them - a bulky, tall man with a halberd leaned against his shoulder and a salt-and-pepper beard - spits a wad of redchew on the ground before he answers. When he speaks, his teeth are scarlet with the stains the chew leaves over long use. He raps a knuckle on his old-looking breastplate with a clank-clank.
 
"I'm Fourth-Proxy Rawson, if you're lookin' for who's in charge." 

His voice is a harsh rumble. He looks between the lot of you, mouth quirked in a frown.

 "What the blazes y'all doin' out here, anyhow? Ain't no place for a nice stroll." 
 
 Spoiler: Rawson's Crew 

 
 
The Hellbug
Ganiz snorts at Rawson's words, his own group being fewer in number, but certainly no less well armed than the newcomers in front of him.  The former caravanner doesn't recognize who they are or where they're from, but he's traveled enough to know their type: soldiers and killers through and through.  In his opinion, them being here can't possibly be good news.    "We could say the same for you--don't look like you're from around here,"   he says, finally speaking up,   "we're from New Zarian.  Trouble: a boy's dead--we're on the killer's trail."  
agignac
Joan looked inquiringly at the Fourth-Proxy, wondering if she'd heard that title before, but nothing came to mind.

She opened her mouth to speak of the demon rotting (or not) behind them, but decided to keep her mouth closed for now and let Ganiz do the talking.
Awful
The Fourth-Proxy stares at you thoughtfully. One of the soldiers next to him speaks up, glowering at you from under the rim of his sallet.
 "I don't trust 'em, prox. Weren't no warriors like this lot in that dungpile when we checked it out." 
The proxy just grunts, still looking at you.
 "Bikkes, go check behind them rocks. Make sure there ain't none of 'em still hidin' behind there,"  he orders, and one of the men begins stepping towards you.  "As for you lot, you're comin' with us. The Second will sort you out, see if you're workin' with them things or not." 
Kushina43
 "Fourth and Second Proxy, eh?  Didn't expect your authority to be out here."   Seeing one of them start checking the rock, she holds up a hand to interject.   "Ah, just a moment!  I hid my companion there for safety before we knew who you were.  She's trained perfectly well, don't touch her and she won't bite, but let me recall her now before either of you gets spooked."   To keep her hands visible to the untrusting soldiers, she taps her foot for the signal instead, and Tira jumps from the rock and glides onto her back, clinging to her shoulder.   "This is Tira, my pet flying snake, Fourth-Proxy Rawson.  And, while I'm talking, do you mind clarifying what you mean by 'working with those things?'  Like my friend said, all we're doing out here is tracking a killer." 
The Hellbug
  "Easy, easy,"   Ganiz says reassuringly, as much to his allies as the Fourth Proxy and his men, holding his hands out far away from his quiver,   "we'll take ourselves to your boss if you fancy it, long as they're towards Old Zarian.  Trail's got us heading in that direction."  
Dr.Samurai
  "Easy, easy,"   Ganiz says reassuringly, as much to his allies as the Fourth Proxy and his men, holding his hands out far away from his quiver,   "we'll take ourselves to your boss if you fancy it, long as they're towards Old Zarian. Trail's got us heading in that direction."   

Jegger steps up at Ganiz's words,   Ganiz, how do we know this lot aint the ones that killed the boy?   He makes an effort to scan the entire group before them,   They have the look of killers to them. Could be they're the ones we're after.   Jegger gives the men a hard stern look,   Bikkes, before you take another step, you all tell us where you were the night before last. Might save us a trip to Old Zarian.  
The Hellbug
  "Sure, never said they weren't,"   Ganiz whispers in reply to Jegger's shared insight,   "but we'll never find that out for sure just talking here.  But they ain't demons by my reckoning so we're either going their way anyway to find out or spilling their blood right here for the sin of being strangers in the desert, same as us."  

He then directs his attention to the soldier that spoke up about the 'dunghole' of New Zarian.    "Surprised I didn't see you when you came through, if you were down in New Zarian,"   Ganiz calls out,   "I work at the inn, wife's the innkeep.  I see most every stranger who comes through--assuming they're the polite type that ain't just sulking on through up to no good."  
Awful
At the reveal of the snake, the soldiers mutter. The man sent forward looks askew at it, obviously imagining searching the rocks and finding serpents, and at Jegger's words, balks entirely.
"Go on, now!" The officer shouts, and in a sort of sidle round the group, keeping you all in sight, the soldier continues on.

 "All clear now, prox."  the man named Bikkes says, reaching the rocks and looking behind.

Rawson merely grunts in acknowledgement, rubbing his chin through his vulminous beard at Rathoran and Ganiz's comments. When the trooper opens his mouth to reply to the innkeep's words, the Proxy simply snaps:
 "Shut it, Quinn." 

Quinn shuts it.

After a second Rawson shifts his halberd's weight on his shoulder.
 "As for this killer o' yours - ain't no profit killin' some country yokel. Nah, if we was comin' for your town,"  he says matter-of-factly,  "It'd have already been burned to the ground a week ago. But we ain't bein' paid for that. What we  are  bein' paid for is fightin' the damn witches and their pet monsters you all got livin' about. Doin' you a favour, really." 

Provided the party doesn't attack, he eyes you for a further minute, then makes a gesture. The hand of soldiers forms up around you: half in front, half behind.
 "We're headin' back! Eyes sharp!" 
"Feels good to be a rescuer," one of the soldiers interjects, and there's a chorus of hard laughter before they begin leading you back the direction they came.

The pace they take is hard, and the soldiers seem wary and on edge. There's always at least one pair of eyes watching you from beneath the brim of a hat or helm, and while no weapons are pointed at you, they're kept close to hand.

All the same, they've not tried to take yours, perhaps sensing it would no doubt lead to a fight.

While Rawson clamps down on any long conversation, the charismatic could probably weasel some information of the crew around them.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

If you want, you can roll a persuasion check. If you beat DC15, and an additional question for beating DC18, you can ask a question posed to the soldiers during smalltalk and get an answer. Depending on what you ask you might not get an answer that is helpful or honest.

You can also try something else, but you'd have to ask about that.

If you refuse to go with them, it's fighting time.
 
agignac
Joan watched the "negotiation" anxiously, and was relieved when it didn't end up in a fight. In fact, it went extremely well, considering they were now headed in the direction they wanted to go, with a much larger party. Joan would fight humans if she had to, but hated it. People were flawed, and sometimes cruel, but rarely truly evil. Her mission was to destroy evil, to destroy demons, not to get involved in the petty fights of mankind.

As they walked, she ended up keeping pace beside one of the soldiers. Eyeing the scar on his cheek, she asked,   "Are you a mercenaries? Is that what the scar denotes?"  
Kushina43
Ratharon wasn't keen on these folks, especially with how casually they mentioned burning down a town for pay.  But she saw no reason to get into a scrap with them either, especially if they may know some of what's going on. After all they mention monsters, and she's curious what they've encountered that could help deal with it.
  "Witches and pet monsters, you say?"   she inquires.   "We have encountered some unusual things during our travels here, but a witch has never been mentioned." 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: - 
 Raging: No 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 

Jegger reminds Rawson that he doesn't lead Jegger and the others every time the proxy tries to shut them up.   Relax Proxy, we're all headin' the same way. Say... when's the last time you spoke with Glint?  
 
 Spoiler: A shot in the dark with a snowball's chance... 
  Persuasion  - (1d20-1)[ 19 ] 
 

 
 
  
Dr.Samurai
  It's a long time after his death to be keeping the King's peace. What keeps you and the other proxies out here doing this?  
Awful
  "Who the hell is Glint? Some buddy o' yours?"   Rawson snaps.  " Hell, keep it for the Second. I'm here because I'm paid to be here an' the Second ordered us here. You'll have to ask him why he's brought us to this forsaken pit."  

They keep a hard pace, and Rawson's ears must be sharp; he shuts down any attempt at conversation.

A couple of hours where the only sound you get to make is rocks crunching underfoot, and Old Zarian comes into sight, nestled in the hills like a bird nest.

It's a cluster of cottages, mostly deroofed of stone shingles by the years, stretching in a approximate band towards the river. Where they miss roofs, the soldiers have set up tents inside them to use the walls for better shelter against the wind and dust. Dozens of figures are in the camp - training, sitting, or going back and forth on some business.

A trace of dockside still shows where the stumps of a quay stick up from the slow waters like the last molars in an old man's jaw. There was a short wall around the town, and it had recently been supplemented with a ditch hacked out of the stony soil, the moved earth used to replace missing patches of wall.

Two sentry towers, maybe a couple of stories tall, rickety-looking frameworks, spot you first, and a figure in the basket blows a horn at your approach.

The soldiers exchange greetings with the guards at the gate - such as it is, being simply a gap in the wall without the ditch in front and with a spiky barricade they push out the way - and lead you inside.

The sounds of a soldier's camp fills the air around you. Cooking fires crackle, men talk, a sergeant drills a cluster of troops who load and fire crossbows. They lead you past what looks like a couple of mine entrances, both barricaded and with guards, and stop outside the most intact looking building.
  "Wait here,"   Rawson grunts, knocks, and steps inside.

The minutes pass slowly, your escort shifting on their feet. The soldiers going past, you notice, are similar in their arms and armour - mismatched, but all effective-looking, and all have the X beneath their eye. They're all male, you notice, without even camp women present.

A few minutes later the door opens. Rawson steps out, scowling, along with another man.

This second man is much more tidily put together. His breastplate is polished; his short black hair is neatly combed and parted, and his reddish beard is shaved into a neat goatee. He looks in his mid thirties, perhaps, with a sort of roguish handsomeness for those inclined that way.

His left arm is missing, the sleeve pinned at the shoulder with a golden brooch of a shield.

 "Unexpected guests,"  he says cheerfully.  "I'm Third-Proxy Tannic; hopefully my Fourth-Proxy here hasn't been too rough with you. Now, the Second would like to have a word, but-"  he smiles easily, raising his hand as if to forestall any complaints.  "I'll have to ask you to leave your hammers and harm-doers outside here. You have my word they won't be touched and you won't be attacked while you're unarmed."
  
 "Sure that's wise, sir?"   Rawson interjects, but Tannic just shrugs lightly.

 "Our  friend  has shown interest in them, and that's enough to convince me they're probably not demons in disguise, don't you think?" 

The Fourth-Proxy grunts again, obviously unconvinced, but raises no further complaints. The Third turns to you again and smiles.
 
"Well, ladies and gentlemen?" 
agignac
Joan shrugs and drops her warhammer on the ground, unbuckles her sword's sheath and drops it to the ground, along with her quiver of javelins.   "Well met, Tannic. I am Joan. If you are not demons in disguise yourself, you have nothing to fear from me."  
Dr.Samurai
 "Unexpected guests,"  he says cheerfully.  "I'm Third-Proxy Tannic; hopefully my Fourth-Proxy here hasn't been too rough with you." 
  Nah, Rawson here aint nothing we can't handle,   Jegger slips in.

 "Now, the Second would like to have a word, but-"  he smiles easily, raising his hand as if to forestall any complaints.  "I'll have to ask you to leave your hammers and harm-doers outside here. You have my word they won't be touched and you won't be attacked while you're unarmed." 
  "Sure that's wise, sir?"   Rawson interjects, but Tannic just shrugs lightly.

 "Our  friend  has shown interest in them, and that's enough to convince me they're probably not demons in disguise, don't you think?" 

The Fourth-Proxy grunts again, obviously unconvinced, but raises no further complaints. The Third turns to you again and smiles.

 "Well, ladies and gentlemen?" 

After Joan's introduction, Jegger says,   Tannic, a word can easily become a disagreement, and a disagreement can become something much uglier. I'm not so inclined to leave my weapons here after being brought, rather roughly, to the middle of your camp surrounded by your soldiers. I appreciate your word, but it'd go a lot longer if I knew a little more. Who are you, and what is this place about?  
Awful
The man nods his head to the paladin.
 "A pleasure, ma'am."  

When Jegger speaks, a hint of bemusement enters the curl of his lips.
 "Bit bold of you, friend, to demand information when you haven't even said your own name."
 He looks at Jegger carefully.  
"You look like a mercenary to me. Am I right? Full of fire and  vinegar. Always eager to  push . Heck, half of the fine gentlemen in this division are the same. The thing is... You admit yourself, you're in the middle of our camp and surrounded by the sturdy stalwarts of the Crossguard Company. So if I was in your place - I'd perhaps be keener to ensure there aren't any of the ugly disagreements you spoke of." 
Tannic shrugs lightly, the missing arm making the movement asymmetric.
 "I'll let you stay outside with your weapons if you want, it'll be no skin off my back, but for a back-and-forth, you'll get it if you drop your iron and talk it out inside like civilised folk. " 
Dr.Samurai
Jegger tries to think it through. The men may work for the Second Proxy, but they appear to be fiend killers. If so, they're in alignment with Jegger and the others. But it could be a case of a rough proxy to round them up and bring them here, a smooth proxy to lull them into false security and disarm them, and a worse proxy inside to make an offer Jegger and the others can't refuse. He remembers Gendo pointing to his head and his heart,   The Fool's deadliest weapons are here, and here.  

Jegger returns the smile,   You have an easy way about you Tannic. I'm Jegger, and no merc by trade, but I help others when I can. I hope when I come get these back, it won't be to carve my way out of here.   He hands his weapons over as Joan does.
Kushina43
 "A pleasure, Third Proxy Tannic.  I am Ratharon Dhodom."   She offers a short bow with her greeting. She offers little complaint at being asked to leave her weapons at the door, but unless it's brought up she decides to keep Tira hidden within her garments where she'd taken residence during the walk - not necessarily for self-defense, but for Tira's safety and comfort, as well as simply feeling better if the snake's included with her.   "Your Fourth  is  a rough fellow, but I like that sometimes, and he's done nothing to ire us beyond the unexpected demand to come.  Weren't aware any had taken residence in Old Zarian here.  Might I ask who you mean by your  'friend's'  interest in us, or would that be better answered by the Second?" 
The Hellbug
Rawson was right, Ganiz observes with discomfort as they reach the camp.  If he and his soldiers had wished harm to New Zarian, they could have easily already razed it, no ifs ands or buts.  In fact, Ganiz has seen this many soldiers in one place only a handful of times in all his travels, and he reaffirms his initial impression of Rawson's band: killers and mercenaries all.  He does find the lack of camp followers somewhat odd--men like this are paid good money in his experience and that draws all kinds hoping to have a taste of it--service-people, swindlers, prostitutes and the rest--not to mention the battlefield pickers mixed in with the rest.  He rationalizes it as a symptom of their remote locale and follows along with the others.  In the tent, he gives no disagreement to the Third Proxy's terms, handing over his unstrung bow and scimitar with a nod, but doesn't begrudge Jegger's either and prepares to follow their host to the Second Proxy.
Awful
 "I hope,"  replies the Proxy to Jegger mildly,  "That you won't have to try." 

To Rathoran, he nods at her greeting. 
"Pleased to meet you, ma'am. As you say, our friend is best someone for you to meet in person rather than me jawing about them out here." 

The party, disarmed, has the door held open for them by the one-armed man. The first room is obviously what had once been the main room of some miner's family, with a brick oven still occupying one corner of the room, and the ruins of shelving that haunts the far wall. A folding table and chair is set up, presumably for the Third, with neat ledgers piled next to it along with a small heap of hand-length iron nails. The light from the shuttered windows is dim, and a heatless flame with a curious blue tint dances on the wick of an oil lamp.
 "Excuse the mess,"  Tannic says, half-joking, and shepards you onwards.

A single battered door leads into what is probably the only other room in this little cabin.

The Second's room seems - no,  is  too large for the hut. Though there's no light source in the room, it seems lit evenly just  lighter than what you might call dim. The air is crisp and refreshingly cold, away from the dry heat of the wasteland hills outside. The windowless walls are of rich, dark wood, like smoothly carved mahogany, with no windows and a high vaulted ceiling. The desk the Second sits behind is similarly a smooth, black wood, built thick as a fortress and the pillars carved like beastly legs. A screen hides a corner of the room from view, and a set of chests and cabinets, that same dark wood bound in silver, fill the wall to the right. Hung up on the left are what must be battle trophies; broken swords and tattered banners, an inhumanly large helm, split by some titanic axeblow, the taxidermied head of a wyvern still silently roaring.

The Second himself looks somewhat carved himself, like a granite statue that wasn't quite finished and must have blunted a fair few chisels. A tall, broad man, though age has turned his hair pure white, it hasn't softened any of his edges; instead it's just carved furrows into the brow above the aquiline nose and a hard slash of a mouth. Where time withered the Mayor like a grape in the sun, the Second simply seems to have been baked hard like clay. He is frowning slightly, slate-coloured eyes narrowed as he looks down at his desk, and the iron in his features gives it even odds the only time he'd ever smiled in his life was forced at swordpoint. He wears no armour, but a fine coat of white is visible, the epaulettes marked with woven gold.

A clowder of cats lounge around the room in various poses of repose. A couple are curled up, sleeping. One black as coal sits on his desk's edge, legs folded under it like a loaf of bread, watching the party with amused yellow eyes. One, a sandcat sprawled bonelessly atop a chest, flicks its tail idly. It looks at you as you enter before seemingly losing interest. A snowy white feline meows where it is sat on a shelf with a pair of shorthaired tabbycats.

 "The group that fought that centauroid demon, Sir,"  Tannic says, saluting sharply.

The old man does not look up. His pen moves across a sheet of parchment with sharp scratching movements.

  "Good,"   he says at last.   "You are dismissed."  

Tannic replies with another 'sir' and backs through the door, shutting it behind him. The moment stretches out.

  "Well?"   he says. He finishes his sentence with careful penstrokes, then sheathes the tip in an inkwell.

    "Oh, I think they might do,"     comes another voice. It is an amused purr that is somehow so unshakeably inhuman it raises goosebumps along the back of your neck, but it doesn't have the poisonous foulness of the demon's voice you silenced yesterday. This voice isn't heard with your ears. It resonates in your mind like a pebble dropped into the lake of your cerebrum raises ripples.

The cat on the desk yawns and stretches, and leaps down. It strolls with the sauntering ease common to all cats behind the privacy screen.
    "On behalf on the Second-Proxy Mordere, let me welcome you to Old Zarian."     The voice continues. There's the slightest of rustling sounds. A hand wraps itself around the edge of the privacy screen, fingers tipped with claws like obsidian flecks, and a slender, lithe person emerges. Their skin is white as porcelain, their long hair what appears at first to be a startling abyssal black. But then your eyes see the glints of distant stars, as if the hair is a window to the night sky. It cascades from their head like a waterfall of jewel-studded black silk, down their shoulders and across their androgynous figure. They wear nothing but thick bracelets on the wrists and ankles, but their body has nothing common either to men or women to make them immodest.

If the Second was like a rough statue, this figure would be a marble masterwork. Their face is beautiful, the pupils of their catlike eyes a great and terrible molten gold, and on their head four pearlescent horns rise from the scalp like an opal crown. Every movement seems perfectly graceful, perfectly controlled. They smile, a catlike curl of full lips.

    "I am the devil  The Infinite Mercy of The Ruinous Cosmos , and I think we could have a very interesting conversation."    
 ...


  THAT BITTER OLD KING
CHAPTER TWO: THE UNKINDNESS BENEATH   
    "Will you sit?"     the devil says. When they speak, their mouth moves, but it doesn't match the words you hear in your head, as if the sound of the devil's true voice and language is being scrubbed away and replaced by something deemed more suitable. There's a brief  whuff  of displaced air, more sound than movement. Behind each of you, a tall-backed chair has appeared, upholstered in red velvet.
The Hellbug
Ganiz suppresses a shudder as the devil emerges from behind the screen.  Of course, he's heard the stories and the advice that goes along with them (and plenty from folks deep enough in drinks to be certain of their fiction), but 'stay away from 'em if you know what's good for ya' and 'never make a deal with a devil' feel like they leave him ill-equipped for the being standing before him and his allies.  While the creature is beautiful--no, that's the wrong word but it doesn't feel like there's a  right  one--in its way (and nothing like he had expected from the tales) there's a wrong-ness to every bit of it that extends beyond its otherworldly features.  The demon was similar, but there the situation was clearer--a hunter that needed to be killed.  He would be more comfortable if the devil were merely an enemy to be slain.  And so, the innkeeper remains standing, though even he himself can't say if it's an act of defiance or one of fear, as every word out of the devil's mouth is telling some deep part of him to 'run, don't be here, this isn't right.'

  "Ganiz.  I'll stand, thank you,"   he introduces himself reluctantly and waits for a bolder soul to take its bait.
Kushina43
Ratharon feels Tira shiver before it hits herself what the group's dealing with.  Its appearance is just the level of beauty and wrongness she'd expected of a tempter from the stories, though it certainly hits harder seeing one in the flesh.  The chair appears behind herself and the others, which she briefly turns to see, before turning back to them to address.   "Well well, a devil! I suppose if demons like that thing were being a nuisance, seeing a devil wouldn't be far along."   She hesitates for a noticeable period, weighing her options in this unfamiliar circumstance, then gives a short bow and introduction before taking a seat in her conjured chair.  "Ratharon Dhodom.  Caught your eye slaying that demon, did we?" 
agignac
      
 Joan freezes as the cat begins to speak. Something deep within her knows what's about to happen, and she curses herself for an idiot.   I knew, I KNEW that cat was not what it seemed.   Twice she had it in her sights, and twice she had the opportunity to know it, to sense it, and she hadn't!   Fool ! 

The devil was beautiful, but wasn't that surprising. Members of "the family" usually were. Still, it was one thing to hear about it, and another to have it standing in front of you, all alabaster lines and starry hair. And that voice, in her head, in all their heads, she assumed. Rough and soft at the same time, like a cat's tongue, or velvet rubbed the wrong way.

The devil kept speaking, offering a seat. Probably would be offering food next. The others spoke, stirred, looked around. Clearly uncomfortable. Joan hadn't moved, had barely even breathed. What she had begun to do, was glow.

The road dirt that coated her skin normally hid its sheen, and her short hair was sand-and-sweat caked, camouflaging the silver that shone there. Right now,  the grime could do nothing to hide the silver sheen she was radiating. It was a sharp light, even faint as it was; if it got brighter it could be cutting. Or burning. Or even killing.

Joan suddenly realized that her emotions were betraying her, and she took in a sharp breath. She was unable to rein the glow in entirely, but she managed to prevent it from getting brighter. Her voice -always husky due to the scar around her throat - was low and rough.   "We are not here for conversation, devil. State your business, plainly. Try any devilry, and weapons or no, I will do my best to destroy you."   
 
  
Dr.Samurai
When the devil emerges, Jegger's hand goes for his sword, but it isn't there. He snaps a look at Tannic but the man has already made his exit at the Second's command.   From one tough spot into a tougher one,   Jegger thinks.

   "Will you sit?"    the devil says. When they speak, their mouth moves, but it doesn't match the words you hear in your head, as if the sound of the devil's true voice and language is being scrubbed away and replaced by something deemed more suitable. There's a brief whuff of displaced air, more sound than movement. Behind each of you, a tall-backed chair has appeared, upholstered in red velvet.

  Ganiz. I'll stand, thank you,   Ganiz introduces himself reluctantly and waits for a bolder soul to take its bait.

  Well well, a devil! I suppose if demons like that thing were being a nuisance, seeing a devil wouldn't be far along.   Rathoran hesitates for a noticeable period, weighing her options in this unfamiliar circumstance, then gives a short bow and introduction before taking a seat in her conjured chair.   Ratharon Dhodom. Caught your eye slaying that demon, did we?  

A bright light catches Jegger's eye and he turns to see Joan glowing from beneath the grime of the road. His eyes go wide before she seems to notice herself and settle the display of light.   We are not here for conversation, devil. State your business, plainly. Try any devilry, and weapons or no, I will do my best to destroy you.  
  And she will not do so alone,   Jegger adds. He remains standing, reluctant to take a seat at the devil's bidding, though he knew that the Fool defeated the King with the help of the devils.
Awful
    "Among other things,"     says the devil mildly in reply to Rathoran as Joan begins to glow. The chair is, suffice to say, immensely comfortable as Rathoran sits, the plush velvet squishing down beneath her.

At Joan's display, the devil seems - pleased, perhaps, the curve of its lips growing wider. It perches once more on the edge of the desk, the ends of its starfield hair draping across the ebony surface like silk covered in diamond grit.

    "Ah, there it is!"      The Infinite Mercy of The Ruinous Cosmos  says, as if it had just found its misplaced coinpurse rather than witnessing a furious aasimar.     "The starblood, incandescent, poured into a mortal vessel until it  seethes  beneath the skin. Something more than a human. A kin, almost."    

The air seems to change, grow heavier. The devil's smile fades.

    "But almost,"     it says,     "Is not  is ."    

The devil hasn't seemed to move, or even change in size, but somehow it seems to fill the room with the weight of its presence. All the cats around the room have frozen, staring at the party with eyes like luminous bronze. They no longer seem real. They are things wearing the shape of cats, old and unmerciful. There's a distant smell, half imagined but growing stronger, like hot copper in sun.

 
 Spoiler: DC13 Wis Check 

Make a DC13 Wis check or become Frightened of the devil for one minute.
 


The Second-Proxy gives a small, irritated sigh.

    "Jegger. Joan Brighton,"     the ancient being before you continues gently.     "As a devil, I say this; know it to be true. I am a creature carved by God-now-dead from the primal aether of Creation and filled with the lifeblood of stars. I am old as the Wheel, with both might and purpose divine imbued within me. I am not something that can be effectively threatened with  fisticuffs ."     

It pauses to make sure the next words are emphasised. The weight of its soul against you is heavy now, thickening the air, prickling your skin with the distant heat of ancient constellations. Without growing taller, it nonetheless seems to loom above you like a mountain, the cat above the cornered rodent-

 
 Spoiler: DC15 Wis check 

If you made the previous save, beat a DC15 Wis check or become Frightened of the devil for one minute.

If you failed the previous check, you're already scared, so nothing needs to be done.

If you succeeded with both checks, you are immune to being frightened for 24 hours.
 

 
   "If you attack me, you will die, to no avail, in terrible pain."    

The words sit in your brains like the reverberations of a rung bell. The devil watches you with a face like a porcelain mask, unliving and emotionless.

Slowly, the metallic scent fades to the point of almost being undetectable.  Infinite Mercy  leans back on the desk a tad, back to appearing just the size of a mid-sized, if slender, human. The cats resume their previous activities, seeming just felines. The air is no longer leadened and crushing. The devil smiles again.

  "Are we done,"   says the Second-Proxy. His voice is a sepulchral grind.   "With pointless posturing?"  
Sitting back in his chair, his back is ramrod straight, and his arms are folded across his chest. Only a faint beading of sweat on his forehead suggests he was affected by the devil's display, his face set in the same scowl as when you entered. The devil gives him a small apologetic smile, bobbing its flawless head in a tiny nod of apology.

    "Come, sit,"     the devil says encouragingly to you once more.     "It will be comfortable. Do not be affrighted. You were not brought here with the intention of harming you. Indeed, did not the devils enable the Fool to overthrow the King and all his demons?"    
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: - 
 Raging: No 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 

At the sight of Joan, the devil becomes a pressure all around, as if it is taking up all the space in the room. It hasn't moved, but Jegger can feel it looming over him somehow. He doesn't avert his eyes, instead reminding himself of the Fool's triumph.

Then it speaks directly to him and Joan, pausing to make sure the next words are emphasized. The weight of its soul against you is heavy now, thickening the air, prickling your skin with the distant heat of ancient constellations. Without growing taller, it nonetheless seems to loom above you like a mountain, the cat above the cornered rodent-

   If you attack me, you will die, to no avail, in terrible pain.   

The words punch Jegger to his core. Up to this moment, Jegger had every intention of fighting his way out if the group found itself in danger. Flipping the desk onto the Second Proxy, tripping Tannic upon his return by kicking a chair in his path, and strangling the Infinite Mercy before it could utter a foul curse. All these thoughts had crossed Jegger's mind as he wondered how this conversation would play out.

But he knew the devil spoke the truth. Any conflict in this room would end with their terrible and painful death.

But Jegger does not despair. Instead of feeling hopeless, he masters himself and sees the way forward. If they must speak with this spirit of evil, then they will, and see what comes of it.

  Are we done,   says the Second-Proxy. His voice is a sepulchral grind.   With pointless posturing?  

Jegger turns his head to regard the proxy,   It is not pointless to me,   and turns back to face the Infinite Mercy,   It is a reminder of the power of mortals. For all your might and immortal strength, we will always have the power to spite you. So remember, after you have summoned us here to do your bidding, that some of us will choose a terrible death if we believe we must.  

Jegger takes a seat, wondering if Gendo would think he was defiant, or absolutely mad.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Saving throws rolled in Discord
1st Save - 16
2nd Save - 19
 

 
 
  
agignac
     "But almost,"     it says,     "Is not  is ."     

Joan feels the weight of the devil's words, and the dead-eyed stare of the not-cats all around her. She keeps her righteous fury wrapped around her like a cloak, confident in her moral correctness.


     "If you attack me, you will die, to no avail, in terrible pain."     

Devils were many things. Fell, foul, hell spawn, serpent-tongued, corrupting, and any number of other epithets. They were not, however, liars. Joan felt a cold weight settle deep in her soul, as if just to be threatened by this creature was to be tainted by it. And she knew,  she knew , that if she continued on her current path, the devil would kill not only her, but her new friends as well. She would accept death gladly, in the name of doing the right thing. But did she have the right to make that choice for Rathoran and her little snake? For Ganiz, who had a family waiting back home? For Bijou, so ready with a song or a story? If she fought now, and they died, how would the scales balance for her, with the souls of her friends piled on the other scale?

Her glow vanished, like a candle snuffed. Afraid, for the first time in a long time, she slowly sat down in the chair behind her.


 Jegger turns his head to regard the proxy,   It is not pointless to me,   and turns back to face the Infinite Mercy,   It is a reminder of the power of mortals. For all your might and immortal strength, we will always have the power to spite you. So remember, after you have summoned us here to do your bidding, that some of us will choose a terrible death if we believe we must.   

Jegger's words bolstered Joan's flagging courage, and she sat up straighter. The human had courage to spare, and she was deeply honoured to be allied to him. She flashed him a grateful, if shaky smile as he also sat down.


     "Come, sit,"     the devil says encouragingly to you once more.     "It will be comfortable. Do not be affrighted. You were not brought here with the intention of harming you. Indeed, did not the devils enable the Fool to overthrow the King and all his demons?"     

The famous quote about intentions floated through Joan's mind, but she refrained from quoting it. The devil had made clear it would not suffer her idealism. And after all, she was certain it could hurt them plenty, without actually "harming" them.   "Very well,"   she said, her voice straining against the fear in her throat,   "we will listen."  
The Hellbug
Every fiber of Ganiz's being tells him to run, to turn tail and flee from this impossible space through the soldiers' camp, past the demon's corpse, and all the way back to New Zarian, to there hold his family close and wait for whatever this horrible cloud is to blow over.  But that can't be it, can it?  He was powerless to protect Jonas in New Zarian, and though the demon that killed him is dead, it certainly still has allies out there.  And these soldiers, still here and messing with things that the elders of New Zarian were certain would bring only trouble.  And his allies, though they are Joan and Rahoran and Bijou and Jegger, their faces are superimposed with those of others in his mind, those long dead that he left behind.

And so the innkeep slowly, cautiously, and wordlessly sits, eyes never straying from the devils' in front of him, a small defiance but perhaps an important one.  When he unclenches his white-knuckled fist, he is surprised to find within a scrap of parchment, once carefully folded but now crumpled: Adela's message.  He doesn't remember taking it from his pocket, but he finally breaks his gaze to smooth and replace it before facing Infinite Mercy once again.
Awful
Seeing you sit, the devil reaches into the air, hand disappearing as if placed into a hole, and produces a tray. Cups of aromatic tea, steaming gently, are offered, and withdrawn without comment if refused.

    "Drink if you will,"     the devil purrs.     "Merely tea."     

The Second-Proxy clears his throat pointedly. The devil smiles and retreats to the back of the room. He rests his arms on the desk, leaning forward. He stares at you from the granite-hewed crags of his features.

  "Alright. Now we've got that out of the way, let's talk business. There's demon summoners in these hills. I want them dead. You want them dead. This is the problem: the demons and their servants are scattered across the hills. If I send a large group, they're fast enough to avoid contact. If I send a small patrol, the balance of power is enough it'll cost me too many losses. Because the biggest threat is  below . Mercy?"  
    "Oh, yes. There's a lot of mostly inactive demons in the mines below. The humans formerly of this town put them there after the Fool triumphed in a battle against them. Quite sensible, really. Minimising the corruptive influence they have. Anyway, most of the demons aren't very consequential, like the one you defeated yesterday."     One of the other cats, a familar looking sandcat, strolls up to the devil, and the alabaster figure stoops to pick it up. The cat blinks slowly as the devil cradles it in one arm, running ghost-pale fingers through its fur. It grumbles pleasedly.     "One, however, is a primaeval demon. The sorcerers here weren't able to restore it completely before we forced them out, but neither is it fully dormant."     
  "If you're wondering why none of these demons and their cultics have attacked your little town,"   ground out the Proxy,   "That's because you're this thing's larder. You've enough blood in your town to wake half the demons under our feet if they can get it there. New Zarian is too far for my men to garrison effectively while holding here, and razing it will take enough soldiers to do the job properly they could mount an attack here, and if they get through they might be able to wake the greater demon completely."  
The man has his own drink; rich, arterial wine in a cup of thick green glass. He sips it with no sign of enjoyment.

    "And so - a stalemate,"     Infinite Mercy says lightly.     "Until you."    

Putting aside his drink, Mordere gazes at you stolidly.
  "My proposal is this: We direct you to demon nests in the hills. You take them out. We'll even supply you with weapons, if need be."  
    "There is also beneath,"     Infinite Mercy adds.     "Within the mine is something very valuable - to the demonologist and cultics, and to me. Recovering it and delivering it to me for safekeeping would be just as, if not more, useful in protecting New Zarian. They would be able to cause quite a lot of trouble with it if they know how - and I suspect they do."    
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: - 
 Raging: No 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 

Jegger's hand curls into a fist when the devil says the demon they killed is inconsequential.   That demon killed a small boy. It doesn't matter when humans are killed, but you need us to do your dirty work huh?  

In truth, the thought of killing demons and making New Zarian and the surrounding region safer appeals to Jegger, like it's what Gendo had been training him for. But the man doesn't like being pushed. He turns to the proxy,   What happens if we say no?  
 
 
  
Awful
The infernal being before you doesn't seem bothered by Jegger's question. Instead it nods, a graceful bob of the head.
    "Just so. My ability to directly intervene is curtailed quite severely by the Pact between we devils and our wayward kin."     

Mordere, for his part, meets Jegger's stare with a disapproving look.
  "If you say no, then I have you escorted out of Old Zarian. At that point I'd recommend you go back to your little town and stay there. If you hunt down demons on your own, that's fine, but you'll find it harder without us, and if you interfere with my soldiers on their duties you'll be killed."  
agignac
      
 
As the details of the situation were laid out by human and devil, Joan's terror began to loose its grip on her soul. The devil could speak only truth, though that didn't mean it was truthful.

  The enemy of my enemy is my....   Joan couldn't bring herself to even think the word "friend".

Could she ally with such a creature? Something deep within her screamed against the thought, screamed at her to attack, to kill, to stomp out its evil. Even if it meant her own death. But she had sworn vengeance against the King, and devils had indeed fought at the side of the Fool, against the King and his demons. The morality here was not clear. Her oath of vengeance, however, was clear.

  "It is my sworn duty to destroy demons, and I will continue to do so as long as I draw breath. But to consider an alliance, I will need your sworn word that you will cause no humans to come to harm, directly or indirectly, for the duration of your stay here. And I will need to know the details of the object you wish retrieved before I even consider that. What it is, where it's from, and what you intend to do with it."   
 
  
Kushina43
Ratharon had been uncharacteristically silent since sitting thus far - she hoped to be perceived as exuding an air of careful thought in dealing with this Mercy devil, which she certainly was, but the other half of the equation was trying to keep her own heart rate down so as not to rattle Tira any further, lest the snake try to escape at the worst possible moment.  Joan's reveal, while altogether comforting, was shocking enough at a bad time that she focused harder on keeping Tira secure.  After that scare, she took to Infinite Mercy's conjured tea perhaps too hastily, but it calms her nerves enough to let everything about the situation and all this new info from the Proxy and devil sink in.

 "Demons in the mines and hills...  So, Second-Proxy, you're looking for a strike team that can get rid of these demon nests while keeping your position here safe.  And, Infinite Mercy - is Mercy too informal? - you want us to go down and get  something  from the mines that could be problematic if the demons and cultists get it.. as opposed to yourself. "   She had a mind to ask about this Pact that kept the devil from doing things themself, but doubted much useful could be wrested from that beyond history - they were already using everyone else to get around its practical limitations anyway.  Instead, she appended with  " Like Joan says, I'd prefer a bit more on  what  that something is beforehand, but otherwise I don't hear anything I'd be opposed to doing..!"   she quickly winces realizing that came out a bit more excited than she wanted - she didn't trust Mercy as far as they'd let Ratharon throw them, but an opportunity to clear the anomaly she came for and slay demons in the process was starting to appeal to her in spite of that.
Awful
    "Ah, bargaining. Excellent."     Infinite Mercy tapped its lips with a slender alabaster finger as if in thought.     "I will not agree to that oath, however. After all, some of our mutual enemy are human, and I intend for them to come to quite terminal amounts of harm. Neither will I be bound by action for the  consideration  of an alliance.

How about something more along the lines on:  contingent on an alliance for the purposes of quelling the demons and retrieving the artefact to be described, neither I nor you shall attempt to physically harm the other; nor shall I or those within this detachment of Crossguard Company attempt to bring physical harm to the residents of the village of New Zarian unless required in their own defence.

Your party here shall make all possible effort to defeat the demons, their cultists and retrieve the item below to return to me, and this agreement is void on completion or breaking of the terms.

Does that sound more agreeable?"     

The cat within its arms meows quietly as the cessation of petting, and the devil obligingly returned to its slow, measured strokes.

    "That I wish to recover is a fragment of God,"     the devil says casually.     "A chip that flaked from the Fool's godsbone sword when they struck down the primaeval demon below. There, the fragment lingered, hidden in the flesh of the demon, until its waking spasms forced the chip from its body. Even as a tiny fragment, it is a thing of power indeed."    
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  54/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: - 
 Raging: No 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 
   ...nor shall I or those within this detachment of Crossguard Company attempt to bring physical harm to the residents of the village of New Zarian unless required in their own defence,    Jegger repeats.   I'm not that clever, and not used to making deals with fiends but, what about,  You, nor any within any detachment of Crossguard Company, or anyone you consider an ally, will bring physical harm to the residents of New Zarian. Period.   
 
 
  
Awful
  "Absolutely not,"   The Second interjects. His face is flat and distrustful, his arms crossed in their pristine white uniform.   "I'll not have my men exposed to one of your villagers deciding to come up and cut our throats without being able to fight back - whether they have their mind ensnared by demon magic or they decide that on a suggestion of yours."
  
    "The other soldiers of the Crossguard Company are under the command of the First-Proxy, some tens of miles to the east,"     The Infinite Mercy adds.     "While they aren't likely to be relevant here, we don't have the command over them to bind them in agreement."    
The Hellbug
Ganiz has stayed silent since he had waved away the devil's offer of tea.  No matter how you cut it, the situation's a bad one.  If the innkeeper were to have his way, all of these strangers would just be out of here, taking their troubles with them, but the demon-calling fanatics and their desire to get to the remains of the Fool's enemies are the root of it all so perhaps an alliance with the the devil and the Crossguard Company is the best way about it.  But then the town's still undefended--a greater problem once the demons and their allies realize that some of their foes are from there.  On the other hand, stepping out right now would let him see to his own and maybe avoid this conflict altogether, though it has already spilled over into New Zarian once and, by the Proxy's word, the only way the town remains standing is if the demons are defeated.  A thought creeps into Ganiz's mind.  What if he were to just leave, pack up with Adella and the children and take to the road?  It's not a good plan--everything they have is in New Zarian and even he hasn't traveled in a decade--but New Zarian feels more and more vulnerable to Ganiz with every moment of the conversation.

Snapping himself back to the present, though, the innkeeper finally speaks up.    "Wait,"   he says,   "which of you is in charge, here?  Which of you can speak for the the other?  Can't really talk until I know who I should be talking to."  

He points at the devil.   "You sound like you're the reason we're all here."  

He turns his finger towards the Second Proxy.    "But I'll be betting the soldiers only answer to you."  
agignac
Joan listened to the devil's counter-offer, and laboriously ran it back and forth in her mind, considering. Focusing on the language helped keep her from running from the room, screaming. It seemed impossible that she was in the desert, making an actual deal with a devil, to work together against demons. And yet, the enemy of my enemy...

  "If we don't want the New Zarian's in danger, then we must work to root the evil out of these hills. We were going to do that anyway."   Her posture rigid, she inclined her head slightly to the porcelain-faced devil.   "I find your the terms for demon-hunting acceptable. Will you tell us what you will do with the shard? I cannot aid you in its retrieval if you intend on using it for fell purposes."   It rankled to ask for information rather than demand it, but she didn't want to inflame the devil's ire a second time.
Awful
  "Close enough,"   Mordere says in reply to Ganiz. The thing in the star-shod shape before you smiles as if pleased by Ganiz' insight.

    "Quite close!"     The Infinite Mercy chirps.     "The soldiers are sworn to obey the First-Proxy, and his authority is carried down through the Second. Mordere, however, belongs to me, heart and soul, and must do whatever I bid. I considered just sitting in on your dreams to talk, but face-to-face seemed more advantagous for coming to an agreement, so I arranged for your bringing here."    

It turned those terrible golden eyes on Joan.
    "Even a infinitesimal fraction of God is not something suitable for any human existant on the Wheel. I will take it to the secret places of my kind, and there it will be enshrined in sanctity and perpetuity, unless and until those greater than I decide otherwise."     There is something hard and bitter about its smile now. The copper-heat smell dances at the edge of perception.     "When your father and their ilk descended from us, they stole away the bones of God. Until then, we had never considered such a betrayal possible. That oversight will never be repeated."    
Dr.Samurai
When Jegger realizes he misunderstood Infinite Mercy, he looks uncomfortable, moreso than when the devil had just, moments ago, promised them a painful death if they attacked it. The seconds seem to stretch by into infinity, until Ganiz speaks. Jegger lets out a long quiet breath as the negotiations continue. The talk of shards and betrayals goes beyond Jegger's comprehension and he struggles to keep track of what is being said. Finally, Jegger says,   You said you would equip us to root out these demons.  
The Hellbug
Ganiz nods, sparing only a moment's thought on what the specifics of 'belongs to me, in heart and soul' could mean.  This whole conversation has been far too big for him since the moment they entered the Second Proxy's chamber, so he focuses on what he does know.    "I'll be frank, then,"   he says, forcing himself to direct it at the devil,   "I'm here for New Zarian.  I'll hunt the demon-worshipers since you won't, but I won't be 'yours' and if any harm comes towards the people of New Zarian, I'll be gone faster than a puddle at noon.  So, they're your business too if you want to count on me."  
agignac
So great was the power of the devil's words, that Joan began to feel guilty for the actions of her father's people. It took a tremendous act of will to pull her mind from straying down that path, and focus again on the task at hand.

Looking to her companions, she said,   "I believe we are in agreement that the demons in the hills need to be destroyed. For my part, I agree to your terms for that part of the task."   She hesitated a moment, looking again at the others.   "As for the shard, I will not yet promise to retrieve it."   Though she had to admit it seemed likely to become necessary.
Kushina43
  So the devil's got Mordere and his authority, but that's about it..   Ratharon thinks as she listens to the details.  The power of the artifact aside, the idea of fragments of God and the story of betrayals of angels were well outside of her expertise  and she didn't care much to try understanding yet - she'd rather see something of such divine presence first to believe in its existence.  Nothing Mercy had said regarding their task sounded disagreeable, as she had hoped, though they refrained from mentioning their intention for the fragment beyond their word of lock and key.  Not a satisfying answer, but an answer nonetheless, and as the group agrees to hunt the demons in the hills, she pipes up again -  "So we're in agreement, then - we will begin by clearing the hills of the demon summoners, make everyone safer in the process."  - Hoping to leave further discussion of the artifact retrieval for later between the group - far as she could see, dealing with the clearest threat to New Zarian's people first was the best course of action.
Awful
Mordere gives a sharp nod. Once everyone has given their verbal agreement, the devil raises a hand, a single finger extended. It gestures, the path of its finger leaving a trail in the air, before the sigil it makes fades.

    "Then we are agreed,"     the devil says.     "The Third Proxy Tannic will take you to some better equipment."    

With a sudden, peculiar sensation, like the itching of your soul, the sigil appears on the inside of your wrists, shimmering in the light like gold woven deep beneath the skin. The devil smiles like an unkind dawn.
 
   "A small reminder of our pact. We are like to talk again in the future. Until then, farewell."    

The door opens behind you without warning, and the Third-Proxy sticks his head through.
 
"This way, please."
 
As you are lead away, the grim Second has aready returned to his paperwork. The devil watches you with a gentle alabaster curve of the lips until the door shuts by itself. The absence of the devil is peculiarly present, like an exhaled breath; a sensation only realised by its absence.

 
 Spoiler: Joan Brighton 


As you leave, you hear the devil speak again into your mind.

    "Joan Brighton. If you wish to speak more on your father and your place in things, drip a drop of your blood onto the sigil on your wrist and say my name. I will hear it, no matter the distance."     
Something about it, though it 'sounds' no different to any other time the devil spoke, tells you this reached you and you alone. Then the voice too is gone, and any last hints of the devil in your brain.
 

 "So!"  Tannic says cheerfully.  "Exciting meeting? The devil is beautiful, aren't they? I was always more of a dog person, until I joined the Company..." 

He leads you past the desk with the books and nails and back outside. The air hits like a humid hammer, the sun high in the sky. Grunting men with ropes are finishing hauling in the twisted corpse of the demon you slew before, each stripped to the waist and gleaming with sweat.
 
"No sense leaving it out there for them to try resurrecting,"  Tannic comments.  "Must have been a fight." 

Taking you to another tent, he waves aside the soldiers glumly standing guard and leads you in. This is clearly a weapons storage, with crates stacked next to racks of polearms gleaming with protective oil against the dust. The man thinks for a second, then drops to his knees by a bulky iron-banded chest. A cat sitting on top waves its tail and leaps to a different crate, settling in to watch the party with lazily hooded eyes.

 "Now,"  he says, huffing with effort as he hauls it open with his one arm,  "I was told as a group we could issue you two of the  special resources . Think carefully what you want, ok? Talk it over, maybe." 

The first thing he brings out is a fist-sized earthern jar, wrapped in long ribbons of blue cloth and sealed with a dull lead plug. Faint sloshing comes from inside as he puts it down heavily. Little runes are painted neatly on the sides, half-hidden under the cloth.
 "There's a water elemental sealed inside this jar. Break the jar, it'll stick around for an hour before it disappates. I can tell you the command words to make it actually do what you want. I heard the cultists have something similar with bound minor demons, though I haven't seen them use them myself." 

The second thing is strange metallic backpack, a flexible bit of piping, and a metal rod. He piles them together on the table. Those with good memory might recognise it as near-identical to the thing on the soldiers had when you encountered Rawson. He turns back to the chest and places a little cylinder next to them. Its glass, and glows with a sharp blue light.
 "A lightning projector!"  Tannic says fondly.  "You slot in a vial of lightning  here , on the backpack, and then point and press in this  here , on the rod, and it fires a bolt of lightning sure to fry whatever you point it at. It needs a fresh lightning vial each shot, and so you either need a second person to load it or  very  long arms. Careful with the vials. They're tougher than they look, but I wouldn't go dropping them on rocks or anything." 

The third object is a heavy-looking axe with a thick blade and long black metal handle. Channels in the blade lead to to open mouth of a gargoyle-like creature in side profile.
 "This belonged to Fourth-Proxy Timon,"  Tannic tells you.  "Rest in peace, my friend. A demon pulled his head off when we took the town here. Anyway, the axe - Timon's axe gives you power when you kill things with it, and it's certainly good at that. Never did learn where he got it." 

The final object he retrieves is a pair of gloves of soft red leather. The one-armed man looks at them for a moment, then shrugs lightly and puts them on the table.
 "Gloves of arrow snaring. Used to be mine, but you need to wear both of them for it to work, and well..."  he chuckles.  "I'm sure you can see why I haven't got much use for them any more. Anyway, if someone shoots something at you, they'll let you catch it right out the air, or slap it away if nothing else. Good for staying alive." 

He climbs back to his feet a little awkwardly and turns to face you.
 "Well, there's your choices. Two of those. If you need other kinds of more mundane equipment, we can take a look and see if we've got anything going spare." 
 
 Spoiler: Options 


Elemental Jar: On breaking, summons a Water Elemental for one hour or until dismissed. Can be commanded as a free action on the turn of the breakee.

Lightning Projector: As an action, the person equipped with the Projector can fire a lightning bolt, as the spell. After each shot, the Projector must be reloaded. The person equipped with the projector can load it as an action. Someone else can load it instead as a bonus action. Requires lightning vials to use, of which you'll be provided four initially.

Timon's axe: this is a +1 battle axe that must be attuned to. On reducing an enemy to 0HP with an attack by this axe, the wielder gains 2d6 temporary HP.

Gloves of Missile Snaring: these require attunement. When a ranged weapon attack hits you while you're wearing them, you can use your reaction to reduce the damage by 1d10 + your Dexterity modifier, provided that you have a free hand. If you reduce the damage to 0, you can catch the missile if it is small enough for you to hold in that hand.
 
The Hellbug
Ganiz immediately looks down at the sensation in his wrist, and his eyes go wide at the sight of the sigil there.  It feels like his stomach drops out when he quickly rubs his thumb against the shimmering mark and then does so again more vigorously when it doesn't even smudge.  The meeting with the soldiers and Infinite Mercy he's tolerated so far--the situation is a bizarre and dangerous one but one that he's felt like he's at least in control of his own place in it--but the mark plainly manifest on his skin is something Ganiz can't be silent about.  The devil's words do nothing to mollify him, and worry and fear quickly give way to anger.

  "You lying, two-faced snake!"   the innkeep accuses Infinite Mercy, holding his now-sigiled wrist out towards the devil to better show the mark and also keeping it far away from his body as though it's cursed,   "I said I wouldn't be yours!  What have you done to us?  Or are you just branding us like cattle?"  
Awful
 Back in the Office 

 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
 Ganiz immediately looks down at the sensation in his wrist, and his eyes go wide at the sight of the sigil there.  It feels like his stomach drops out when he quickly rubs his thumb against the shimmering mark and then does so again more vigorously when it doesn't even smudge.  The meeting with the soldiers and Infinite Mercy he's tolerated so far--the situation is a bizarre and dangerous one but one that he's felt like he's at least in control of his own place in it--but the mark plainly manifest on his skin is something Ganiz can't be silent about.  The devil's words do nothing to mollify him, and worry and fear quickly give way to anger.

 "You lying, two-faced snake!"  the innkeep accuses Infinite Mercy, holding his now-sigiled wrist out towards the devil to better show the mark and also keeping it far away from his body as though it's cursed,  "I said I wouldn't be yours!  What have you done to us?  Or are you just branding us like cattle?"  
 

The Second snorts dismissively.
 "Don't be hysterical,"  he grunts.

He regards Ganiz with mild distaste, as one would a spoiled dish of food. The devil, for its part, angles its head - and then in a blink of movement is directly in front of the innkeep. One delicate white hand is wrapped around his wrist, just below the sigil - gripping not hard enough to hurt but as unyielding as iron. It stares into his eyes, its own eyes white in white and filled with a hot and merciless gold. The starfield hair drapes back around it where the speed of movement had thrown it up like a cloak in wind.

    "I am a  devil , Ganiz. I am incapable of lying.  I have taken no possession of your soul. I have not bound you in  chains. I have not held your beating heart between my fingers and  demanded obedience."     The Infinite Mercy says, its mouth unmoving as it holds the man's stare. It traces the sigil with a obsidian clawtip, featherlight, then lets go and calmly walks back to the desk, leaning against it like before.     "We have traded action for action, Ganiz, innkeep of New Zarian, that aid will be provided and you will go forth and kill. You will carry that mark as a reminder for as long as our agreement lasts."    
The Hellbug
The Proxy's disgust, Ganiz can weather.  It's the same attitude he's gotten from any patrician he's ever had the displeasure of interacting with in any of the larger settlements he's ever visited.  The feeling, as it were, is mutual.

The devil, on the other hand, is a different story.  Ganiz tenses as they grab his arm, and he breaks his gaze away from their uncanny stare after a mere moment.  But it's over almost as soon as it's begun.  The former caravanner lets his breath go--he hadn't realized he had held it--as they release him and sheepishly lowers his arm back to his side when they return to leaning on desk.  Seconds pass as he gathers his courage before speaking.

  "Then let us mark you,"   Ganiz finally replies, quietly but determinedly.
Awful
 Back in the Office 

The ancient devil looks at Ganiz for a second, then-

-gives a little laugh, one hand covering its mouth modestly as it giggles. The laughter, compared to the mind-voice, sounds bizarrely nearly human, with an echoing timbre.
 
   "Very bold, to seek to mark the starblooded flesh of the Above! How do you intend to do so, Ganiz?"     it asks, amusement in its tone.     "And will you risk failing for the absence of our aid if I refuse, knowing what it might cost New Zarian and its people?"    
The Hellbug
  "I don't think I could dream of a way, but someone might,"   Ganiz admits, more steadily now as he answers the devil's second question,   "and I couldn't.  I'm no Fool; I can't stand against whatever's out there alone--none of us can.  But New Zarian followed Old Zarian so maybe we all could.  It would be right, though, wouldn't it?  A reminder for a reminder.  A mark for a mark.  Action for action.  Aid for aid...your words, not mine."  
agignac
Joan stared in awe at the courage of the innkeep. She forgot sometimes how bright these humans could shine. However, that which shone could also burn. Joan suspected that while the devil laughed now, it wouldn't take much to turn from humour to homicide. And courage was only a single step away from suicide.

Laying a hand lightly on Ganiz's wrist, she said,   "Peace, my friend. The..."   she swallowed hard, then forced herself to say its name,   "The Infinite Mercy of The Ruinous Cosmos will stick to the letter of our agreement. I do not love this mark either,"   in fact, her stomach roiled with nausea,   "but there is naught we can do about it but complete our quest. Which we were going to do anyway."  

She bowed stiffly to the devil, a slight bending of the waist, but didn't trust herself to speak further. It was a relief when the Third-Proxy arrived to usher them away. Until, that is, she heard the devil's voice in her mind again. Startled, she whipped around to stare at it, but the door had already shut, cutting them off from the overwhelming weight of its presence.   A drop of my blood?   She couldn't currently imagine being so curious as to invite further conversation with it.

When they saw the demon's corpse, Joan shuddered. She asked,   "What must we do with the corpses of the demons we kill? I had not considered the fact that they could be revived.  I do not relish the thought of fighting any of them a second, or third time."  

The array of magical items before them made Joan's breath catch in her throat. She had never seen such a treasure laid out like this. Her warhammer had a little magic imbued in it, enough to make it glow when called to, but that was it. Some of these items were truly incredible.

Picking up the battle axe, she moved through a few basic kata with it, testing its balance.   "I could use this."   She replaces it on the table and waits for the others' opinions.
The Hellbug
Ganiz doesn't push Joan's hand away, but he stands firm against her suggestion.    "We wouldn't be here otherwise,"   he agrees,   "but the question's an important one, to me at least, and so's The Infinite Mercy of the Ruinous Cosmos's answer."  
Dr.Samurai
Jegger watches the exchange unfold between Ganiz and Infinite Mercy, the tension in the room palpable.

The devil seems more amused, than anything else. Ganiz... well, Jegger has the sense that he is looking through a window in time, when Ganiz was a fierce warrior to be contended with. Having fought alongside him the night before, Jegger saw how formidable the man could be, a stark difference to the innkeeper that had chosen not to depart with the group until he changed his mind later. Now, more of this warrior was emerging, as he stood face to face with the starborn.

Jegger watches in silence, standing tall to lend his support to the others. Infinite Mercy had not intimidated Jegger earlier with its supernatural display, and it won't now with this mark on Jegger's skin.
Kushina43
Ratharon had to applaud Ganiz for his integrity in the literal face of the devil - internally, of course - while looking at the mark upon her own wrist.  It's hard to take a devil at their word, even with its inability to lie, but she wasn't all too concerned so long as they could help with the demons and cultists.  It's what she was there for, after all.  Instead, once led out of the office, she eyed the special equipment offered to them and thought about what would best fit the needs of their team.  "Ooh, arrow snatching gloves, I could use these, but.."  she says aloud, next looking at the lightning projector.   "Lightning at will is hard to pass up."   The axe didn't interest her but it would be of clear use to one of the others, so the jar was her final study.   "An  entire  water elemental, bound to this jar for us to command?   I can scarcely believe it, must be quite the valuable ally." 
Awful
 Back in the Office 
    "Fairness is very much a human pretense, and easily abandoned even amongst your kind. All the same,"     the devil purrs, holding up it's wrist. On that alabaster-pale skin the same mark appears in gold-paint brushmarks.     "An equivalent mark is no burden to me. Does that content you? Will you go forth and kill now, satisfied in our new similarity?"    

It smiles patiently, amusement still glinting in those terrible sundrop eyes.

 Outside 

At the question of what to do with the corpses of demons, Tannic scratches the back of his head.
 "I'm not sure there is too much you can do, unless you've got some knowledge of sorcery and a load of powdered silver to hand.  Easiest way seems to be just stopping anyone getting at them and killing anyone with the know-how of demonology. I guess if it was easy the devils would have locked them all away already." 

For Rathoran's statement, the man grins. He flicks the jar with a finger.
 "Sure is. We got an artificer back with the rest of the Company who makes the lightning projectors, but the elemental jar? This dates back to before the fall of the King. Not sure there's anyone who can make things like these still kicking." 
The Hellbug
 In the Office 

The devil's amusement reminds Ganiz uncomfortably of that of a parent for their child's antics or a man's for his dog's, and, knowing how they've presented themselves, he guesses it's more the latter than the former.  However, they do seem genuine, if alien, and have backed their words with action.  Even for Infinite Mercy's dismissal of the reasoning behind it, Ganiz is considerably more comfortable seeing that sigil on them as well.    "Yes,"   he replies with a nod,   "the sooner done the better."  
 At the Weapons Cache 
It's like a weight has been taken off his shoulders when Ganiz follows the others out of that impossible room.  His legs feel wobbly, and he almost needs to steady himself or sit down for a second, but the feeling passes.  He silently observes, more for lack of energy than lack of anything to say, as the Second Proxy lays out the miraculous items before the demon slayers.  The cat holds his attention for too long, and he's certain he'll never be able to look at even the commonest of them the same way again.  After letting some of the others give their opinions, the innkeeper tries to shake the distraction and gives his.    "Joan is the expert, here,"   he defers to the paladin,   "whatever she picks is what I think is best."  
  "But,"   he continues, turning to the Second Proxy to address some more mundane needs,   "we only came supplied to check on Old Zarian.  We'll need food and water if you can spare them, or we'll have to go back to New Zarian for more.  Medical supplies, too--I'm good with a needle.  Oh, and we'll need to send a message back to the town as well."  
agignac
      
 Joan hands the axe to Jegger and asks,   "What do you think? Can you fight with an axe, or do you prefer the sword?"  

She examined the elemental, then put it down. The thought of a sentient creature being locked up in there, for all those years, made her skin crawl. The lightning thrower, however, was a truly marvelous creation. Turning to Ganiz and Rathoran, she asked,   "Would you two feel comfortable using this?"   The controls looked finicky, and Joan didn't trust herself to try it. 
 
  
Dr.Samurai
Jegger follows the others, and as the magic items are being laid out, he walks up beside Ganiz and squeezes his shoulder.

Once the items are out, he goes to inspect. Gendo had told stories to Jegger of the wondrous items that had made a showing in the war against the King and his demons, but he had never seen any before. They looked mostly unassuming, but for some strange contraption that Tannic refers to as a Lightning Launcher and... a black and heavy battleaxe that belonged to the 4th proxy.

Joan hands the axe to Jegger and asks,   What do you think? Can you fight with an axe, or do you prefer the sword?  

Jegger accepts the axe from her and swings it through various strikes,   Gendo taught me to fight with all manner of weapons,   he says, bringing the weapon up close to inspect it. It's lighter than it looks. The axe is stylized with a grotesque creature's gaping maw, giving it the appearance of a signature weapon, as if meant for someone specific. Perhaps it wasn't him?   I'll continue the fight where Timon left off, and see if the axe takes to me.  
Kushina43
 For Rathoran's statement, the man grins. He flicks the jar with a finger.
 "Sure is. We got an artificer back with the rest of the Company who makes the lightning projectors, but the elemental jar? This dates back to before the fall of the King. Not sure there's anyone who can make things like these still kicking."  

 "Before the fall, you say?  Now I'm intrigued.  But as for usage, I think it'd better serve you for a dire emergency - would be a shame to waste it on a hunt."   With the axe briefly held by Joan, then Jegger testing its weight, and Joan's talk of the Lightning Launcher, the choice had been made, and Ratharon was happy with it.


 
 Originally Posted by agignac 
  The lightning thrower, however, was a truly marvelous creation. Turning to Ganiz and Rathoran, she asked,   "Would you two feel comfortable using this?"   The controls looked finicky, and Joan didn't trust herself to try it. 
 

Ratharon looked over the lightning thrower once more, as well as its requisite vials.  Bolts danced within the latter, seemingly eager to escape their miniature confines.   "Yes.. I think we can handle using this just fine.  And while I'd love to toss lightning at demons, I trust myself much more to be light on my feet with a bow - I suggest Ganiz have the weapon itself, and I can hold the ammunition safely, should he not object." 
The Hellbug
  "Never even heard of a weapon like that before,"   Ganiz replies to Rathoran, inspecting the strange weapon.  The thought of a device that can throw lightning is equal parts wonderful and terrifying, more at home in a tall tale or the time of the King than where he's standing right now.  All the same, he looks up at the Second Proxy,   "but if your boys can use it, I might be able to.  How's it work?"  
Awful
Seeing your choices made, Tannic nods and puts away the other two options. The sloshing jar and the gloves disappear back into the chest, the latches and lock closing with a skeletal click. The cat from before wastes little time before reclaiming the lid, sitting like a loaf on top. It blinks smugly at you before resting its head down.

 "Some victuals to keep you going won't be a problem. Don't expect nothing from the taste, though, the stuff we brought is mostly hard tack, pemmican and saltfish."

 The man goes to the entrance of the tent and talks to one of the guards outside. You hear a quiet 'aye, sir,' and the sound of footsteps. Meanwhile, the Proxy manipulates the backpack to upright sitting on the table, the straps facing away from you. He taps one of the various panels built into the back of it, then fumbles with the latch.

 "Alright. This panel here opens up if you twist this latch- it's a little stiff, they diodn't design this with one hand in mind- ah ha. Don't worry about the other panels, those ones are so the artificer can get into the machinery in there." 

The panel opens up to reveal a narrow slot the size of the lightning vials.

 "You just slot in in here, shut the panel, and you're good to go. You do have to shut it, though. It won't work if you don't - don't ask me why." 

He gestures for Ganiz to put the bulky backpack of the projector on, and once he does so tightens the straps. It's heavy, uncomfortably so, but a webbing of leather straps keeps any sharp metal corners from jabbing into the innkeep's spine.

 "Alright, alright. So if you put in on like this- So you need to have it on your back - it's got quite a kick. Firing it off when it isn't braced is a sure-fire way of wasting a charge. Anyway, the rod attaches here through the pipe. You can clip it on here when you're not using it, and reach back and get it like that. Hold it with both hands, point it at the demon, and press in these triggers here. Both at once, and zap. Lightning on demand. Pretty simple to use."

 He carefully puts four vials down on the table, the harsh blue gleam of the cylinders casting his face in cyan.

 "That should do you for the time being."

 Sounds at the entrance announce the arrival of a soldier, who dumps a backpack stuffed with cloth-wrapped bundles and a half-dozen sloshing waterskins.

 "Enough food in there for five days, enough water for three."
 

---

Unless any more requests are raised, Tannic leads you to the edge of the encampment. There, you're met with the sandcat, waiting patiently at the checkpoint. The man kneels and runs a hand over the soft fur of its head. It meows, and the man chuckles.

 "The cat can lead you towards the demon groups, but it can't take you to their doorstep. They can sense it if it gets to close, or something like that."  Perhaps seeing something in the face of one of you, he chuckles again.  "This isn't The Infinite Mercy, if that's what you're wondering. This lil' thing is more of a- servitor, I guess. A cat with a few perks."

 The sun watches from above. The sky yawns, deep and blue and distant.  

"Good luck,"  the officer of the Crossguard Company says, and turns away.
The Hellbug
Ganiz watches carefully while Tannic explains the how the lightning projector works then grunts as he hefts it to his back.    "Good, doesn't sound too hard,"   he says with a nod when the Proxy finishes, a little bit of a white lie.  The innkeep couldn't possibly be totally comfortable with carrying around such a weapon on his back, especially having never fired it before.  But if it's as valuable and powerful as he's been told, he'll have to tolerate the risk.

___

  "To you too,"   Ganiz replies to Tannic's blessing.  He looks cautiously after the cat.    "Nothing to do but follow then, no?"  

Ganiz is quiet until the the Crossguard Company camp is out of sight.  Even if Infinite Mercy will hear about whatever he and his allies are doing through their servitor, he still feels safer chatting once they're off the camp's doorstep.    "Rathoran, can I borrow Tira again once we stop?"   the innkeep asks,   "New Zarian should know the trouble we're all in."  
agignac
Once the distribution of supplies had been sorted out, Joan withdrew into a troubled silence. This day had gone in a very different direction than she had expected, and she had no idea if it was for the ultimate good or not. Not least among her worries was the fact that she had accidentally outed her lineage to her companions. So far, they hadn't mentioned it, but she assumed they hadn't wanted to say anything in front of the devil and its companions. Even now, they travelled with one of its servitors. Presumably it was spying on them, and would communicate anything they said to its master.

But did it matter? Infinite Mercy knew what she was, and even seemed to know  who  she was. It spoke of her father. Did it know him? Had it spoken to him? Joan had never even communicated directly with her father. She prayed to him sometimes, but had never received a direct answer. Sometimes she knew things that she had never learned, and she attributed that to her father. Could this devil actually help her understand her heritage? And would she, could she trust anything it told her? Devil's may not lie, but they were masters of twisting the truth to serve their needs.

Distracted by such thoughts, she followed the others out of the encampment in silence.
Dr.Samurai
Being, what feels like, forced into an agreement doesn't sit well with Jegger, and he simply takes the axe and follows the others out without another word to Tannic or the mercenaries in the camp.

After Ganiz requests Tira's aid, Jegger says   We've got water for three days. Don't recall if they told us how far these encampments in the hills are.   He looks at the sand cat,   You think the uh... servitor can speak?  
  We should be sure to replenish our water reserves whenever we can. No idea what'll happen once we hit these summoners.  
Dr.Samurai
As the group travels on, the encounter with Infinite Mercy plays on in Jegger's mind. He had never felt something like that; the devil had a very real impact on Jegger without even getting near him, without even moving. But Jegger knew that somehow he resisted the devil's power. The others...

Jegger turns to regard Joan as they walk on,   Back there, when Infinite Mercy confronted us, you began to glow. Did it... did it do something to you? Or was that... you?  
Kushina43
Ratharon waves at the officer wishing them luck.  Once the group is outside the encampment, following this odd sand cat, she taps her shoulder and Tira swishes out of her sleeve to rest on said shoulder.   "Sorry to keep you in there so long, girl, you must have been terrified."   She's about to fish a treat out of her pouch when Ganiz asks


 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "Rathoran, can I borrow Tira again once we stop?"   the innkeep asks,   "New Zarian should know the trouble we're all in."   
 

 "Oh, certainly, I think she needs a good flight to get the fear out of her system.  For now, some food will help her as we're moving."   She pulls a dead mouse out of her pocket, sniffs it to make sure it's not gone bad, and tosses it high into the air for Tira to catch and consume.

Jegger makes a point to question Joan on her light show during the encounter with Mercy, and Ratharon decides to chime in herself.   "I wasn't sure what it was at the time either, but I get the distinct impression it was you doing that, Joan.  Am I right?" 
agignac
Faced with a direct question, it didn't occur to Joan to lie - to say it was a spell, or somesuch. Instead, she swallowed hard, and spoke.  " Yes, it was me. Though I didn't intend to...make a scene ."  She looked at the others, wondering if she was about to lose them as companions.   "I'm not quite what I seem to be. My father wasn't human. My mother described him as a heavenly being, made of light. I never met him."  

She paused, swallowed again, and continued.  " I was nine when the demons destroyed our village, following a rumour of my existence. Mother hid me, and I was safe, but they killed her. They killed everybody."   For a moment she closed her eyes, overcome by the memories, as fresh today as they had been all those decades ago. The smell of blood and viscera. The brown of congealed and clotted blood. The buzzing of flies.

  "I swore revenge on the King that day, the King and his demons. And I trained for a decade, trained to kill demons, to kill a King. But the Fool - beat me to it. So now I wander, looking for stray demons to kill, to fulfill my oath. And I have killed several. But never before have I encountered a devil. I lost control. It's happened before, when fighting, but never like that."    She looked up at them, her expression earnest.   "If you ever see me glow like that again, get away. Sometimes it gets bright enough to burn, and I would never harm you deliberately."  
The Hellbug
  "That'd be the most outlandish thing I heard any other day besides today, I reckon,"   Ganiz remarks thoughtfully as he slips out of the lightning projector's straps and sets it on the ground,   "you don't mind if we take a short break, do ya?  This thing's heavy."  

The innkeep doesn't continue until after he's taken a drink from his waterskin.    "That'll explain why the demon knew you, though.  But hold up"  --he frowns in thought--  "Fool killed the King before  my  parents were born.  Just how old  are  you?"  
Awful
The cat had set a steady pace, neither fast not slow, tail waving as it prowled forwards around thirty feet ahead.

When the sandcat servitor looks back and sees you stopping, it pauses, then leaps on top of a rock.

It lays its head on its paws and seemingly settles in to wait for you to stand up again.
agignac
Joan's eyebrows knit together.   "I don't think it does explain the demon knowing my name. That's never happened before."  

Ganiz's question took her by surprise. It had been decades since she'd paid attention to the passage of time in any meaningful way.   "Um...I was eighteen when the Fool cast down the King. So, that would make me...."   she looked off to the horizon, as if that would tell her how much time had passed.   "Fifty-something?"  
The Hellbug
  "Much older than that,"   Ganiz corrects with a snort that's almost a laugh,   "closer to the Mayor than me--that'd be an unnatural age for most to be swinging a hammer like you do.  If they came for you as a girl, they've had time to learn plenty more than your name."  
Dr.Samurai
The look of shock is evident on Jegger's face as Joan explains her origins.

  So... you've been in this fight a long time. That must have been hard back there with Infinite Mercy. Still, sounds like the fight has come to New Zarian, and everyone will be in danger if we don't do something.   He looks to Joan and the others,   I'm glad we're out here together, for what it's worth.  

Afterwards, Jegger is quiet for some time.   None of this is how I thought it would be. Not the devils, not... someone like you, Joan. And not that demon summoner. What was her name? Glint? Seemed strange, like she felt bad about what happened. What kind of person would summon demons and then offer weregild when it kills someone?  
The Hellbug
Ganiz nods in agreement with Jegger's sentiment about Joan but speaks up when he begins musing about Glint.    "The kind that thinks it'll be an easy way to make a problem go away,"   he answers, his hate for the witch apparent on his face,   "I didn't sense any remorse for what her demon did, just didn't want us poking around.  I'd bet all New Zarian's nothing but a bump in the road to her."  

_______

When he gets a chance, Ganiz writes a short update for the people of New Zarian:

  Mercenaries in the Old Zarian ruins, The Crossguard Company.  Demon summoners are trying to bring back the ones the Fool killed there and they were hired to stop them.  At a standstill now.  We're working with the mercenaries to flush them out and deal with them.  Careful of any strangers but keep calm--no telling what the demons will do if the town starts getting antsy.  

It's harder to write than he thought, and the innkeep wrestles with the inclusion of some of the details of the meeting with the Second Proxy.  Eventually, though, he sets his quill and offers the small piece of parchment to the others.    "Anything I missed?"  
Kushina43
 
 Originally Posted by agignac 
  " Yes, it was me. Though I didn't intend to...make a scene .   I'm not quite what I seem to be. My father wasn't human. My mother described him as a heavenly being, made of light. I never met him."  

She paused, swallowed again, and continued.  " I was nine when the demons destroyed our village, following a rumour of my existence. Mother hid me, and I was safe, but they killed her. They killed everybody.  I swore revenge on the King that day[...] But the Fool - beat me to it. So now I wander, looking for stray demons to kill, to fulfill my oath. And I have killed several. But never before have I encountered a devil. I lost control. It's happened before, when fighting, but never like that.  If you ever see me glow like that again, get away. Sometimes it gets bright enough to burn, and I would never harm you deliberately."   
 


 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "That'd be the most outlandish thing I heard any other day besides today, I reckon. That'll explain why the demon knew you, though.  But wait a second"  --he frowns in thought--  "Fool killed the King before  my  parents were born.  Just how old  are  you?"   
 


 
 Originally Posted by agignac 
   "Um...I was eighteen when the Fool cast down the King. So, that would make me...."   she looked off to the horizon, as if that would tell her how much time had passed.   "Fifty-something?"   
 

 "Looks like you and I are on the same page here, Ganiz - that would be outlandishly unbelievable to me any other day of my existence."   She looks to Joan next.   "But yes, plenty of time to learn one's name.  And I can also see why such a heritage would be worth keeping secretive in general, let alone from the rest of a ragtag group such as ourselves- I don't begrudge you for that, Joan." 

With Ganiz silently agreeing with Jegger's sentiment, she wondered if they were finally getting along.   "Today certainly has been fraught with the unusual, but I came here to quell the anomaly, and that's what I'm gonna do with all your help." 

 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "Anything I missed?"   
 

Ratharon reads the parchment when passed to her - short, sweet, to the point, no unnecessary details she can find. Perhaps too simplistic, but that last sentence justified it to her - the town getting too panicked could draw attention and throw a wrench into the operation.   "Looks fine to me." 

Once everyone's given their input, Ratharon clicks her tongue and Tira lands on her shoulder, accepting the parchment.  She stands up and puts out a hand as if aiming, searching back her memory based on their travel to find the direction of the town, and with a whistle Tira slithers down her arm and takes off in that direction, message in her coils.
agignac
Joan visibly startles when they comment on her age.   "Has it been so long?"   Perhaps it's not silver-blond hair she's hiding under her helm these days, but grey.   "Long enough to learn my name, indeed. But even the newly-wakened demons being brought forth by these cultists and witches? It is dark work, and I do not understand it."  

Ratharon's kind words send an unexpected lump to Joan's throat.   "My thanks. It has been many years...no, perhaps decades...since I travelled with those I would call friends. I am honoured that you accept me as I am, as one of you."  

As the snake flies away, Joan stands.   "Shall we continue?"   She looks to the not-cat, apparently dozing in the sun.   "When you are ready, guide."  
The Hellbug
  "Honored to have you, too,"   Ganiz finally chips in sincerely,   "regardless of where you come from."    He stoppers his waterskin and hefts the weapon up onto his back again with a huff.    "Though it wouldn't change things much if I weren't,"   he admits,   "can't exactly turn away good help."   
Awful
The flying snake wings away into the distance, soon disappearing into the hot and open blue.

The servitor perks up it's ears as Joan's words, looking for all the world like an ordinary feline hearing food being served, and without a word rises. It stretches sinuously, yawning widely, then resumes it's padding pace across the hills.

For the next hour it leads you into increasingly broken ground. The rocks here are jagged, dark stone, jabbing at the sky like a thousand spears. The slate is sharp, and careless movements are easily rewarded with cuts on stony talons. The tarnished bones of beasts, wedged in corners and crevices, are the only signs that life beyond lichens ever lived in this hilly badland.

The air is thick with silence. The cat abruptly stops, leaping onto a rock and turning to face you.

  "Demonic presence this one senses distance one half mile approximate measure continuation this one negative until resolution,"   it says, seemingly all in one sentence. Its voice is a peculiar thing, high pitched and monotone, as if it is merely reciting sounds. Unlike The Infinite Mercy, this one seems to actually be speaking common.

It's also coming from a cat, so perhaps it is no less strange.

It follows this up with a perfunctory meow and curls up again, a furry pillow on top of the hot, sharp rocks.

Ahead, the trail would seem to follow a winding path between the hills, narrow and the ground shod with slate like discarded dragon scales.
agignac
Sweat was trickling down Joan's back and neck. This wasn't the most unforgiving and bleak place she'd been, but it was definitely in the top five. Maybe even top three. No wonder the demons liked it.

When their unholy guide spoke, she shuddered. It was so completely unnatural that it made her skin crawl. Still, no doubt that it was useful, assuming its information was correct.

Looking at the others, she said,   "I assume we continue? Plenty of time to travel that far and deal with the demon before nightfall."  
The Hellbug
Ganiz regards the servitor with furrowed brow.  He had previously still been on the fence about what the creature was: a thing disguised as a cat?  A very clever cat recruited by the devil?  This most recent development leans him towards the former.  That said, he supposes that it's better that it  can  communicate with them.  Otherwise, they'd just be walking into wherever the demons had gone to ground.   
 "Agreed,"   he replies to Joan,   "no sense camping through the night this close to them.  We can send someone to have a look when we get a bit closer; Glint took us by surprise last time, but now we're the ones who know where they are.  I'd volunteer but..."
  
The innkeep trails off but rolls his shoulders under the lightning projector's straps to illustrate his current incapability.    "Could be more than one, mind,"   he finally adds.
Dr.Samurai
It takes a moment for the initial strangeness of the cat speaking to wear off.   A half mile, huh?   Jegger says. He dons the shield in on his left arm and carries the axe in his right hand, and regards Ganiz,   Maybe we can lure them back to this footpath and right into the line of you and that doohickey.  
Awful
The party advances - Joan first, then Jegger, weapons ready; after them comes Ganiz under the unfamiliar weight of the lightning projector, and finally Rathoran. The wind hisses through the gully like a snake. Grit grinds under your footsteps, and then -

A brief tumble of pebbles draws your attention to the left and up to the top of the chasm. Only Joan and Rathoran are fast enough to see the gangly ape-like shape of a demon, patched with coarse white fur and face a mad mass of bulging bloodshot eyes. Joan has time to bring up a shield for a fist-sized rock to clang against it, shivering the metal but doing no harm. For a split second both of you have eye contact with the thing before it scrambles back out of sight, heading - as far as you could tell from the brief glimpse you got - towards the far end of the gully where the cat directed you.

Looking down, it turns out not to have been a rock, after all. A mountain hare, camoflagued for the rocky hills around you, twitches on the ground, splayed open by the demon's teeth - just another victim of demonkind, no matter how small.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  55/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: - 
 Raging: No 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 

Jegger faces the left to the top of the chasm, bringing his shield before him in one fluid motion. But all he can see is rocks and pebbles sliding down toward the ground before them. Whatever was up there is out of sight. He turns to the others and sees what looks like a desert hare twitching and bloody before Joan, it's viscera sliding down her shield. Confusion crosses his face,   Did that thing just attack you?  
 
 
  
agignac
      
 Heart pounding, Joan stared at the spot where the demon had stood. The attack had been so sudden, and so suddenly over, that her body was humming with unused adrenaline. She looked back at the others. Rathoran's face was similarly alarmed, but the two men just looked confused. Clearly they'd missed the brief glimpse of the demon.

  "Did that thing just attack you?"  

Joan started to confirm the obvious, then realized that Jegger was staring at the poor dead hare in confusion. She opened her mouth to explain what had happened, but instead released a bark of laughter. Shocked at her own reaction, she clapped her hand over her mouth. Jegger's look of confusion intensified, and suddenly she couldn't hold it in. A wave of hysteria washed over her, and the scourge aasimar began to laugh. Unexpectedly musical, her laugh contained the sound of bells (though the effect was spoiled by the occassional snort). She dropped her hammer, bending double, tears streaming down her face, leaving shiny tracks through the grime on her cheeks. She tried a few times to explain - pointing to the ridge, trying to say the word "demon", but every attempt to speak failed and eventually she gave up and let the laughter bubble out of her.
 
 
  
Kushina43
Upon hearing the thud against the shield, Ratharon had begun drawing her bow to fight the demon, only for it to immediately flee before being ready.    Territorial display..?  And it's heading for the gully..  We're closing in alright.    While she stows her weapon, Jegger apparently hadn't seen the attacker, and inquires if something else had attacked - namely, the apparent projectile, which Ratharon discovers late is a mangled hare.  Something about the absurdity of the situation seems to get to Joan, because she starts laughing almost uncontrollably, failing to vocalize the true attacker.  Ratharon can't help but to join in the laughter for a short time, then corrects Jegger's assumption.   "Aha ha, no, my friend, the hare wasn't the attacker - a demon rapidly appeared, threw the hare to intimidate us, then just as quickly fled toward the far end of the gully.  This cat is leading us in the right direction, as anticipated." 

Once explained, she reaches to put an arm around Joan, hoping to keep her stable.   "It  is  absurd to a degree, I'll admit,"  Ratharon laughs,  "Once you've calmed, we'll continue - while demons defy sense, most things won't attack so quickly after a threat display, and I doubt an intelligent demon would call attention to itself if it seriously wanted to fight." 
The Hellbug
Ganiz, initially startled by the thud of the rabbit against Joan's shield (and wishing he weren't weighed down by the lightning projector when he reaches for his bow), steps up behind the paladin after sparing a glance at the creature's corpse.    "Are you going to be alright?"   he asks with concern then turns to Rathoran,   "like the last one?"  
agignac
Joan finally managed to pull herself together. Wiping tears from her face, she apologized to her friends.   "I don't know what came over me."  

When she was back under control, she agreed with Rathoran's assessment.   "It is good that our guide is leading us correctly. Let us continue, and finish this, before the demon assaults us with any more wildlife."  
Dr.Samurai
Jegger chuckles sheepishly at Joan's outburst, a little embarrassed. When Rathoran explains that a demon had scrambled back out of sight, the smile leaves his face and he once again scans the upper ridge around them.   Hmm... that's different than that thing we faced, with Glint. Sounds smaller, and seems less aggressive.   
The Hellbug
  "Good.  Yes, let's get this over with,"   Ganiz agrees, turning his back to Rathoran,   "load me up and let's go.  And careful back there."  
Awful
The party advances, the hare left behind in the dust. Following the gluch, the four come to a cave entrance perhaps sixty feet distant - and the enemy. Jagged rocks just from the roof and the floor of th tunnel like teeth, giving it an unpleasantly jaw-like appearance. It leads on maybe twenty feet before a twist of it takes the rest out of sight. Torches lying discarded next to the scorch marks where they were  snuffed out were any indication. A box, its sides stoved in, sits  abandoned just inside the mouth. On some of the stony spikes projecting  up and down, more tiny furry bodies hang impaled.

On the air you catch the scent of something foul, the sick-bed stench of things gone putrid.

Three humans in tattered, dull blue robes take cover behind rocky outcroppings closer to the entrance, crossbows in their hands. Another, wearing a more ornate blue jacket over a breastplate, lurks in the tunnel, taking better cover behind his troops. A pair of clay jars hangs from a sash at his waist.

The monkey-demon capers nearby, eyes flicking back and forth, and as you appear it screeches horribly.

 "Hurry up!"  He bellows deeper into the cave, turning to look your way. His face, cracked with descent into old age, is furrowed with anger. He points a gold-tipped swagger-stick your way.  "Rebellious filth! Kill them all!"


  
 Spoiler: OOC 

Combat begins!
 Roll for initiative. 

The enemy crossbowmen are around 60ft away, in half-cover.

The demon and enemy leader are around 80ft away inside the cave.
The demon is out in the open.
The enemy leader has three-quarters cover.

Enemy human init:  20

 Enemy demon init:  17 
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  55/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: - 
 Raging: No 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: - 

Jegger's eyes go wide,   So there are demon summoners!   Surprise turns to grim determination, with shield and axe in hand.

 
 Spoiler: Initiative 
Initiative  (1d20+3)[ 22 ] 
 

 
 
  
agignac
Joan took a moment to survey the scene before her. A lot of enemies. One demon. Four demon-worshippers. She cracked her neck, hefted her hammer, and prepared to end them.

As usual, everybody flew into action just a second before she was able to. No matter. They could start it. She would finish it.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  55/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: Dodge, Resistance to B,P,S Damage 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: 8 - Difficult Terrain to Enemies within 15ft 

Jegger bounds forward, keeping his shield leveled between him and the crossbowman to protect him from their bolts as he advances. He summons his fury and feels it disperse into the ground around him. The baked earth surrounding him begins to tremble, as dry gnarly roots snake up from the ground, reaching for something to grab.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 1 

  Move   forward 40 ft.
  Action   - Dodge Action
  Bonus Action   - Rage
 Wild Magic Effect  - Enemies treat the ground within 15ft of Jegger as Difficult Terrain
 

 
 
  
Awful
As Jegger charges forward, the cultists around the entrance to the cave unleash a small hail of crossbow bolts. Two of the cultics fire at Jegger to no avail; one strikes the parched earth by his charging feet, and the other glances with no harm off his half-plate in a brief screech of sparks.

The third crossbowman, however, aims at the three further behind, and launches his projectile at the easier targets. With the three close together, it was only inevitable he'd hit something. Ganiz feels the impact like a punch to the chest. The bolt struck him square; it hangs, caught up in his chainmail and the padded jack behind it, but the hot upwelling of blood suggests while the bolt failed to pierce skin, the broken links it forced into the old innkeep's flesh did the job almost as well.

 Ganiz takes 6 damage.

 "Imbeciles! Stop him!" The old man in the cave snarls, and briefly steps out to do two things. First, he retrieves one of the clay jars from his waist, weighing it briefly in his gnarled hands. Then he throws it. It's not a particularly good throw, and the roof of the cave prevents a good arc. It lands five feet from Jegger, and shatters on the impacted, dusty ground with a terrible shriek - something awful, exultant. A foul black cloud, oily and mishapen, billows forth. It just reaches Jegger, tendrils of it stretching his direction, stinging at his skin where it touches like a thousand needles. Before it can go much further, it loses steam and sinks into the soil, leaving an ugly black stain - and something else.

 Jegger, make a DC13 dex save or take 7 necrotic damage. Save for half.

 Where the hideous cloud fades stands something even uglier. Another demon, far to large to have fit in the jar, gurgles delightedly at the sight before it. It almost resembles a short, naked man, if his skin was putrescent. It has no arms on its torso, where a human would; instead of a head, five spindly arms project from the stump of the neck like the legs of a molting spider, an eye or mouth sunk into the palm of each twisted filthy hand.

The older man in the armour retreats back to the cover of the cave-turning.

The new demon waddles forward, stumbling on the rough terrain as roots snatch and stab thorny holes in the soles of its misshapen feet. With a horrid chuckling, it grabs at Jegger with all five hands, bony fingers strong for all their seeming fragility. He can smell the hot stink of it, stale and heavy.

To Jegger's credit, the man almost manages to dodge or bat away all of the incoming hands. One, two, three, four, snatch at the warrior to no avail, grasping nothing but air, but a pinching pain stops the man short. The fifth arm, stretched grossly, latches on to his leg, the fingers digging in to the unarmoured flesh like the claw of the worst crab on the Wheel.
 it laughs, as a child would catching a friend during a game of tag.

 Jegger takes 6 bludgeoning damage and is grappled.

 With Jegger halted for the minute, the ape demon, capering in place, moves forward, stopping at the edge of the circular area of questing, brittle roots Jegger's magic has created. It sniffs at the ground and gives a disgusted screech, before it straightens itself up. It stands as tall as it can, until whatever spine it has clicks audibly and its arms shudder. The overgrown cluster of eyes that coves its face, its scalp, all around its head, bulge even more, and more, until they're almost popping out the skull. It meets all your gazes at once, and you find your vision being drawn in to it. The eyes bulge, bulge, until they seem to almost fill the entire world.

The eyes  stare 
and you
 stare 
back-

 Each member of the party must make a DC14 Wis save or take 1d6 psychic damage and have disadvantage on attack rolls any enemy except from the ape demon until the end of your next turn. 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Round summary:
2 cultists shoot at Jegger. Both miss.
1 cultist shoots at Ganiz and hits for  6 piercing damage. 

The cultist commander throws a daemon jar. It shatters near Jegger, unleashing a noxious cloud that does  7 necrotic damage or dex DC13 save for half.

 The summoned demon moves forward, having enough move to cross the difficult terrain. It attacks Jegger five times, missing four times and hitting Jegger once for  6 bludgeoning damage and an automatic grapple.  

The ape demon challenges all the party to a staring contest. Each must make a DC14 Wis saving throw. On fail, they take 1d6 Psychic damage and have disadvantage against all other creatures but the ape demon until the end of their next turn.

The damage done by the demons is magic damage. The damage done by the crossbowmen is not.

---

Jegger is 40ft ahead, 20 ft away from the crossbowmen.

The enemy crossbowmen are around 60ft away, in half-cover.

The enemy leader is around 80ft away inside the cave. The enemy leader has three-quarters cover.

The five-arm demon is out in the open, next to Jegger and grappling him.

The ape demon is five feet in front of the cave, around 55 feet away from party and 15 from Jegger.

It is now all of your turns.
 
Kushina43
It wasn't surprising in the least when the maw of the cave - more literal than the turn of phrase usually is - was defended by some cultists and the eye-ape encountered earlier.  It was a territorial warning as expected, and while Jegger attempted to get the jump, he was just too far away to do much.   The cultists wasted no time in attacking, none hitting the charging warrior but one aimed for the larger group hitting Ganiz square in the chest.  She drew her bow in quick response, but worse was yet to come.

The leader of this bunch threw a jar, seemingly containing a foul ichor that threatened to consume Jegger, before coalescing into a much different horror, a multi-limb-headed humanoid that grasped at her companion, the lone successful strike digging into his leg.  She nocks her bow, taking aim at the limbed fiend, when the ape from earlier screeches, seemingly defies its own ridiculous anatomy, and seemingly forces her gaze towards it instead with a painful snap.  She looks back to the limb fiend, but her head swims and her target seems to multiply in her vision when she dares focus on it.

She grits her teeth and, trusting in Jegger's fortitude, decides to put an end to the ape before it can continue befuddle the whole group and open them to further attack.  She takes aim at the creature and fires twice in rapid succession.  The first hit is successful, though it only glances the ape's body with a shallow wound, while the second sails past its numerous eyes due to a painful wince from the mental attack.
The Hellbug
  Rebellious what now?    Ganiz doesn't have much time to ponder the irony of the demon summoner's words before the cultists fire their barrage of crossbow bolts, hitting him with what would be a fatal blow if not for his armor.  Even still, while he's pretty sure nothing's broken, it knocks the wind out of him, perhaps why the ape demon's uncanny stare fails to perturb him more than the situation already has.    "Urgh, let's see what this thing can do, then,"   he mutters as he stands before warning his allies,   "stand back!"    He aims the contraption at the ape demon and the lead cultist in the cave's mouth, braces, and pulls the trigger.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Move to get into position to set up my line and action to fire the lightning projector.

Damage:  (8d6)[ 28 ]   you know what the save is better than I do
 
agignac
Joan was not far behind Jegger, but the man was uncannily fast on his feet. She was still ten feet away when the bottle broke and he was suddenly battling a horror, the likes of which she'd never even imagined.

The paladin stumbled a little as the demon with too man eyes STARED at her. So....many....eyes....  She winced, feeling a pain in her head that was not unfamiliar, and she decided that he was her next target.

Apparently the others agreed, because as she jogged towards him, a bolt of lightning crackled past her, followed by a pair of arrows. She nearly stumbled, but kept moving. As she did so, she thumped her shield with her hammer, making it ring in the ozone-filled air.   "The hammers of heaven prepare to punish your wickedness,"   she cried, falling back on somewhat archaic speech during battle, as usual.

 
 Spoiler 
Double move, bonus action to cast thunderous smite (ready for next attack). moving straight to eyeballs.
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  49/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: Resistance to B,P,S Damage 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless: Yes 
 Wild Surge Effect: 8 - Difficult Terrain to Enemies within 15ft 

Jegger's advance slows down as crossbow bolts whiz by him and slam into his shield. The man in the cave throws a jar that shatters near him, and a black mist snakes around. Jegger feels it cloying around him and burning but he shakes it off. He glances over the top of his shield and recoils as the black mist coalesces into a horrific demon with multiple arms and hands in place of its head and neck.    Gah!    Jegger cries out as the creature assails him. Demonic hands grasp for him and at his shield but Jegger staves them off. All but one. An inhumanly strong hand grabs at the meat of his thigh and clamps shut. Jegger yells in pain, a pain that focuses his mind enough to ignore the gaze attack of the ape demon loping nearby.

As the others attack the backline with arrows and lightning, Jegger raises Timon's axe and brings it down on the demon in front of him.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 2 
Jegger saves vs Necrotic Jar and vs Gaze Attack. Rage reduces grapple damage. He takes 6 damage total. (Rolled in Discord.)

  Action   - Attack (Reckless) vs Handsy
 Attack 1  w/Advantage -  (1d20+7)[ 14 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 9 ] 
 Damage 1  -  (1d8+6)[ 14 ] 
 Extra Attack  w/Advantage -  (1d20+7)[ 20 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 19 ] 
 Damage 2  -  (1d8+6)[ 11 ] 

If the positioning is correct, I think Handsy is currently providing Jegger with partial cover vs ranged attacks.
 
 
 
  
Awful
The ape demon screeches as an arrow appears in its raggedy fur. The eyes on it seem to bulge even wider, somehow, in outrage. Joan is close enough to see that even the inside of its mouth is studded with a mixture of teeth and additional eyes. Its spasmodic jerk of pain, however, is enough to carry it out the way of Rathoran's other arrow.

Then it gets struck by lightning. A heartbeat later, and the bolt is gone, leaving nothing but the smell  of ozone and the smell of charred demonic flesh behind. The air in the path of the bolt glitters faintly with sparks before they, too, fade, earthing themselves on the tainted soil. The ape demon  is, remarkably, still standing, but it sways and groans, and several of  its overswollen eyes have popped. Now they ooze foul-looking pus down  its face - and the jury is out on whether that is better or worse than  before.

Ganiz has pulled the trigger on the strange device strapped to his back. For a second, nothing had happened except a rising whine, high-pitched almost to inaudibility, before it jerked sharply in his hands. With a crack like a whip, a lightning bolt flashes into existence between ganiz and the far end of the cave, piercing through the ape demon and almost frying the cultist commander, who dodges at the last moment to avoid the worst of it.

"Aim at the near one!" the slightly scorched old man bellows. He briefly steps out from cover, staring at Ganiz with hatred in his eyes and gesturing with strange, ritualistic movements. He swings his swagger-stick downwards like an axe, and from the tip, a bolt of fire rips forth, hurtling towards Ganiz. The innkeep, however, keeps his wits enough to duck, and the firebolt hurtles harmlessly overhead to rocket down the gully.

Though the lesser cultists can't see their commander, they nonetheless fire a salvo at the aasimar, three bolts hurtling towards her. One clatters harmlessly  off her armour, one rips a ragged line along her calf, and the third thumps cleanly into her thigh and sticks there.

 Joan takes 10 and 5 damage for 15 total.
 
On Jegger's end, the multiple hands of the demon wrestle with him.  The first swing he attempts is foiled as it flails at him, but the  second he can bring down into the meat of the monster before him.  Timon's axe cuts through it easily, like a butcher slicing steak, but  the lack of resistance the flesh offers means there's nothing to stop  the demon from shoving his axe away and out the wound before he can  slice it deeper.

Rather than seem discouraged, the hand-creature hoots with laughter!
 

The fists batter at the barbarian. One uppercuts him right in the jaw, sending sparks through his vision, and another thumps him in the chestplate hard enough it dents. As he reels, they grip on, squeezing and wrenching, trying to pull the barbarian apart. The hand gripping his leg tightens even more, and Jegger manages to fend off only one hand before The final fifth hand wraps around his neck like a python and begins trying the throttle the very life from him.

 Jegger takes 8, 5, 4 and 8 damage, for 25 total. He is now gripped by four hands! 

The half-cooked ape demon drops to the ground and scuttles on all four out of reach, leaving a horrible trail of singed fur and eyeball fluid. It leaps upwards, catching on to a stalactite and quickly scampering up the cliff face holding the cave until it's fifteen feet above the ground. There, it shudders again, and the eyes bulge, and even though another pops like an overripe grape-

it stares

 Each member of the party must make a DC14 Wis save or take 1d6  psychic damage and have disadvantage on attack rolls any enemy except  from the ape demon until the end of your next turn. 

The clattering of hasty feet and rattling iron come from inside the cave. Something else is soon approaching the outside.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Round summary:

The three crossbowmen concentrate fire on Joan. They hit twice, for  10  and  5   damage  respectively for a  total of 15 , and therefore force two DC10 concentration checks. The third crossbowman cultist misses miserably.

The cultist leader fires a firebolt at Ganiz and rolls a 2 before modifers, so yeah.

Handsy attacks four times against Jegger, getting two crits, an ordinary hit, and a miss. The grappled hand squeezes, getting an automatic hit. The three hits latch on, ready to squeeze next turn. The attacks  8, 5, 4 and 8 damage, for 25 total 

Eyeballs survives the onslaught. As a BA, it disengages, climbs the cliff, and uses its eyes to repeat the action of last turn.  Each member of the party must make a DC14 Wis save or take 1d6  psychic damage and have disadvantage on attack rolls any enemy except  from the ape demon until the end of your next turn. 


---

Jegger is 40ft ahead, 20 ft away from the crossbowmen. Joan is ahead, only 10 feet or so away from any of the crossbowmen, and 25ft or so from the leader.

The enemy crossbowmen are around 60ft away, in half-cover.

The enemy leader is around 80ft away inside the cave. The enemy leader has three-quarters cover.

The five-arm demon is out in the open, next to Jegger and grappling him.

The ape demon is fifteen feet, above the cave, next to Joan.

It is now all of your turns.
 
agignac
Joan noticed the pain of the arrows, but that was unimportant at the moment. The demons were her priority. However, she lost concentration on the thunder in her hammer, and for a moment, considered swearing. This fight was a bad one.

The ape-demon was maddeningly out of reach. It's summoner, however, was not. Joan crossed the space between them, and tried to take the frail-looking human down with her hammer. However, her head nearly burst with pain again, spoiling her aim.

  This creature will wear us down with these fell attacks,   she realized. Unable to reach it, perhaps she could force it to come down.   "Descend, hellspawn, and face the wrath of heaven!"  
 
 Spoiler 
Casting Compelled Duel at eyeballs, Wis Save DC 14. Get down and fight! Everybody else help Jegger - if somebody attacks eyeballs, the spell ends if he takes damage from anybody but me. Unless you can finish him...
 
Kushina43
While it disappointingly doesn’t kill the eye demon, the lightning projector certainly lives up to its name, frying the ape til many of its eyes burst and somewhat injuring the lead cultist behind them.  Her focus briefly returns to see Jegger being assaulted by the limb-head, battered and bruised but still standing for the moment.  Before she could think of the next step, the eye-ape once again uses its distracting stare, forcing her attention and causing a sharp pain in her head.  She raises her bow to retaliate, but Joan attempts to command it to duel with her powers, so she holds off for the moment.

Ratharon shakes her head and turns to a ducking Ganiz, pulling out one of the lightning vials.   ”Hey, Ganiz, loading the pack for ya!” . She shouts through the headache as she kneels down to quickly stick the vial in the projector’s backpack - right as a firebolt sails over them.  A quick survey of the scene again, Joan had been pelted with arrows - might that have happened before now?  The eye-ape made it hard to keep track - and despite her distracted head she makes it her mission to deal with the cultists shooting them from range.

Her targets seem to multiply before her eyes, fighting to keep her gaze off of the ape, but she manages to loose two arrows in the right direction, both at a different crossbowman.


 
 Spoiler: OOC 
move to Ganiz, Bonus Action to load the projector, then use attack action to hit two of the crossbow enemies in cover.  Sharpshooter ignores cover, rolled with disadvantage due to failed save
 
The Hellbug
Ganiz stumbles back, shocked, as the bolt of lightning rips through the air from the device in his hands.  He composes himself, though, as the bolt of fire soars past him and Rathoran informs him that the device is ready again.    "That'll be all I need,"   he replies to her before taking off after Jegger and Joan.  He plants his a few paces back from the grappling warrior.    "Hold on, Jegger!"   he calls as he aims the lightning projector and lets loose another bolt.  Without even looking to to see what kind of damage he's caused, he rushes at the many-armed demon with a shout, ramming into it and trying to force it to the ground with his shield.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Action surge time!  Bonus action to dash to get that movement up to 60, action to fire the lightning projector at the cave mouth again (this time hitting a cultist and the cult leader; if I can get more just tell me).  Second action to attack to shove Handsy prone.

Lightning damage:  (8d6)[ 35 ] 
Attack:  (1d20+6)[ 22 ] 
Athletics:  (1d20+7)[ 14 ] 
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  37/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: Resistance to B,P,S Damage 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: 8 - Difficult Terrain to Enemies within 15ft 

It's hard for Jegger to track the rest of the battlefield, as the demon's hands are grabbing and pulling at him in all different directions. He can see a bright flash and smells the air burning before he hears Ganiz shout and the man is beside him forcing the demon to the ground.

  Thanks,   Jegger says through gritted teeth, taking aim with the battleaxe and chopping at the creature.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 3 
Saving throw succeeded vs Eyeballs gaze attack (rolled in Discord).

  Action   - Attack Action
 Attack 1  w/Advantage (prone target) -  (1d20+7)[ 23 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 17 ] 
 Damage 1  -  (1d8+6)[ 12 ] 
 Extra Attack  w/Advantage (prone target) -  (1d20+7)[ 17 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 26 ] 
 Damage 2  -  (1d8+6)[ 11 ] 
 

 
 
  
Awful
The monkey demon screeches, Joan's magic filling its mind with wrath as the compulsion takes hold.

The vial clicks into place in the backpack with a definite clack and Ganiz pulls the trigger. This time, one of the cultusts is caught in the path and thrown aside by the force of the bolt, limbs flailing, clearly dead, and bolt leaps into the cave. It snaps past Joan enough her flesh prickles with sparks and her hair raises to catch the old man full in the chest. The air fills with the stench of burning flesh as his breastplate, heated to red-hot, warps and roasts the skin beneath and the old man topples without a word, slumped awkwardly against the back of the cave.

Rathoran's arrows fly forth, but the rocky cover the cultists are hiding in proves sufficient to protect them from the missiles. Without someone to instruct them, the remaining two crossbowmen shoot at different targets; one at Rathoran, and one at Ganiz again.

The arrow aimed at Rathoran does a little better. Without the protection of a rocky outcropping, the bolt punches cleanly into her gut, blood already burblingup around the wound.

 Rathoran takes 8 damage.

 Ganiz, at least, avoids a second arrow wound so far; the bolt clangs off his shield without penetrating to clatter away off the hard ground. He's no time to celebrate, however. A necrotic-looking hand wraps with bonecrushing force around his ankle, squeezing until the bones click, and as the five-armed demon surges to his feet, it yanks his leg upwards. His balance teeters wildly as the monster threatens to upend him on his back.

 
 Ganiz takes 8 damage and is grappled! The demon shoves him prone with an athletics roll of 17 to beat.

 For Jegger's part, the axe raises and lowers, hewing into the demon, but it writhes with unholy vigour, and the three hands it left gripping him continue the wrench at the man, but the shifting and writhing of the two means the grips aren't quite as firmly crushing as they could otherwise be.

 Jegger takes 5, 5, and 5 damage for 15 total. 

The monkey demon leaps from the cave and scuttles towards the paladin. It rears up, the (remaining) eyes bulge, and this time, the psychic blast seems much more concentrated; the glare of the eyes fills Joan's world and sends blood hissing from her ears and nose.

 Make a DC15 Wis save or take 3d8 psychic damage; save for half. 

From within the cave, you can hear a barked command. Someone with a deep, snarling voice, calls a halt.

 "The old man is dead,"  rumbles a scornful voice from deeper inside the cave, like two stones grinding together.  "Fall back. We'll alert the others."

 The clattering begins to receed.


 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Round summary:

The two last crossbowmen fire at different targets. One  hits Rathoran for 8 damage .
The other misses Ganiz.

Handsy  automatically hits Jegger three times for 5, 5, and 5, totaling 15.
It hits Ganiz for 8, automatically grapples, and shoves Ganiz flat, hitting and rolling a 17 in athletics. 

Eyeballs drops down, approaches Joan, and unleashes a focused blast that tells Joan:  make a DC15 Wis save or take 3d8 psychic damage; save for half. 


---

Jegger and Ganiz is 40ft ahead, 20 ft away from the crossbowmen, playing with handsy. Joan is next to the ape demon by the cave entrance-ish. Rathoran is further back.

The enemy crossbowmen are around 60ft away, in half-cover.
One of them is smoked by lightning, leaving two left.

The five-arm demon is out in the open, next to Jegger and grappling him. It's also grappling Ganiz, who is currently shoved prone.

The ape demon is next to Joan, trying to boil her brain out her ears.

It is now all of your turns.
 
The Hellbug
Ganiz yelps when the demon pulls his legs out from under him.  He tries his best to fall so that the projector on his back comes to the least harm and ends up coming down on his side with a thud.  Immediately, he tries to get to his feet, but the demon's grip on his ankle is crushingly strong, and it yanks whenever he tries scramble up.  With nothing else to do, the innkeep unsheathes his scimitar and slashes at the demon whenever he gets the opportunity.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Ganiz is now prone.  Action to attack with disadvantage (but still sneak attack!) bonus action to Second Wind.

Second Wind heal:  (1d10+2)[ 12 ] 
Scimitar attack with disadvantage:  (1d20+6)[ 7 ]   (1d20+6)[ 20 ] 
damage:  (3d6+3)[ 12 ] 
 
Kushina43
With the eye-ape bearing down on Joan, Ratharon's world reorients itself just in time to see her arrows bounce off the rocks hiding her targets, but with not enough time to fully perceive the bolt fired in return.  The shot to her gut staggers her momentarily, but she's still in fighting shape, and takes a deep breath regardless.  Her exhale mixes with the air around her into Zephyr winds, magically wreathing her body in its gusts before swirling around a newly nocked arrow aimed for her attacker.  She takes a half-second to think over her options - the eye-ape's focus on Joan must be dealt with, and the limb-head grappling both Ganiz and Jegger could snowball harshly - but allowing these two to take potshots uncontested could distract them from their main challenge and prove harmful in their own right, as the arrow sticking from her gut can attest.

Confident in her decision making, she fires her first arrow at her attacker, the zephyr winds guiding the arrow true into its target with incredible force.  Seeing him downed, her second arrow in rapid succession goes for their compatriot, the remaining crossbowman who thought themselves safe shooting Ganiz from cover, tearing through them quite well.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Bonus Action to cast Zephyr Strike.  Attack on crossbow 1 with zephyr boost, crit and killed. Extra Attack on last crossbowman for 11 piercing damage.  Both rolled on discord.
 
agignac
Joan staggers under the weight of the psychic attack, but at least it's just her this time. And the demon is now within reach of her. Stepping forward, she rasps,   "You and your kind will ever be my enemy, and I will end you here."  

She swings the warhammer straight at its face, damaging more eyeballs. They pop with a satisfying sound, leaking ever more unholy fluid down the thing's face. The creature tried to protect its face, but Joan wasn't done. She pressed the attack, hitting a second time, this time hearing the satisfying crunch of bone.

 
 Spoiler 
Using bonus action for vow of enmity - granting adv on attack rolls. A meagre 5 points of damage. Second attack with max 12 points of damage
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  30/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: Resistance to B,P,S Damage 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: 8 - Difficult Terrain to Enemies within 15ft 

Jegger gives a grunt of exertion as he tries to shove the demon off of him and Ganiz, but he can't break its grip. He chops down again with the axe,   This thing is tenacious!  
 
 Spoiler: Turn 4 
  Action   - Attack
 Attack 1  - Shove (rolled in Discord, failed)
 Extra Attack  -  (1d20+7)[ 12 ] 
 Damage  -  (1d8+6)[ 13 ] 
 

 
 
  
Awful
The hammer comes up, the hammer comes down. Pushing through the psychic pain, Joan brings her weapon down twice into the head of the demon, splitting it like a gourd. It spasms wildly, limbs flailing, and goes still, letting out a keening scream that echoes in more than just the physical ears. Her opponent smashed into the earth, she runs back towards her two male allies, who are currently grappling with the arm-demon. As she watches, it yanks Ganiz upwards to painfully crash back into the earth.

Meanwhile, Rathoran fires off a pair of arrows. With a crack of sudden wind, an arrow zips cleanly through a cultist's chest until the point gleams slick and red where it emerged from his spine. The man drops without a single sound, instantly slain. The other cultst cries out - and then again, when Rathoran's other arrow sinks deep into the meat of their shoulder. With a wheezing groan, they fumble for a bolt of their own. They fire back, and the bolt opens a hot line along the nomad's arm, but otherwise leaves her intact.

 Rathoran takes 4 damage. 

The heavy machine strapped to Ganiz's back rattles as he slames into the ground, the demon's grip still tight around his leg. The one free hand of the demon tries to secure a grip around his neck, and while he fends it off at first, the wiry strength of the horrible creature grips him by the lapel and bashes him again the earth. His head cracks painfully against a rock, stars in front of his eyes, as the demon cackles madly with sheer joy.

 Ganiz takes 8 and 5 damage for 13 total.

 Jegger strains his heroic strength against the demon, trying to shove it away against the strength of all three grips it has on him, but like a limpet, it just manages to cling on, its bare feet skidding against the earth - and ironically, the difficult terrain raised by the barbarian's magic providing just enough grip to let it push back again the man. All the meanwhile, the pair are wrestling, Jegger's axe blow twisted until it can't even touch flesh.

The monster's foul grip tightens, tightens. Any other man would have given in to the pain, but Jegger continues the fight.

 Jegger takes 5, 8, 5 damage for 18 total.


  
 Spoiler: OOC 


Round summary:

Eyeballs dies.

Rath kills a crossbowman and injures the other. He shoots back, inflicting  4 damage. 

Handsy succeeds in resisting the shove. He  automatically hits Ganiz once and succeeds in a second attack for 8 + 5 = 13 damage.

It hits Jegger automatically for 5, 8, and 5 damage for 18 total. 



---
Everyone but Rath is clustered by armsy.

The enemy crossbowmen are around 60ft away, in half-cover.
One remains, severely injured.

The five-arm demon is out in the open, next to Jegger and grappling him.  It's also grappling Ganiz, who is currently shoved prone.

It is now all of your turns.
 
agignac
The other creature, which Joan had initially dismissed, looked to be more trouble than she'd thought it would be. Both men were well and truly grappled by the thing. With arms, legs, and more arms failing around, she was afraid to swing and hit one of her friends.

Lowering her shield, Joan waded slowly into the combat, putting her back into it, trying to shove the thing away from Ganiz and Jegger. If she could just get them free, then it would be easier to gang up on this unholy terror, and end its miserable existence.

For some reason, however, the ground around here was rougher and rockier than anywhere else, and the demon resisted. She managed to break its grasp on Ganiz, but couldn't get Jegger free.
The Hellbug
Once Joan shoves the demon away and breaks its grip on his neck, Ganiz's body tells him to stay down, to rest just for a moment as he looks up at the clear blue sky, but there's not time.  With a deep breath, he gets to his feet and renews his assault on the demon, stepping into and out of its reach with each attack and no longer hindered by fighting from his back.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Move to stand and get next to handsy again, action to attack.  Bonus action to withdraw so he can step out of reach again at the end.

Attack:  (1d20+6)[ 12 ] 
damage:  (3d6+3)[ 7 ] 
 
Kushina43
The new red line along her arm doesn't bother Rathoran in the moment - she considers the damage, sees it low priority, and gives another glance at the field of battle.  The eye-ape has been smashed by Joan's hammer, the biggest relief that will make sure she can finish the last of the cultists.  The limb-head, meanwhile, continues to grip and tear at Jegger and Ganiz.  Joan starts moving to help the others in melee, so Rathoran nocks another arrow and aims it at the final crossbowman, the curve of its trajectory getting around their cover and thudding into their chest for the fatal blow.

Now that the ranged threats are out of the way, she looks back at the melee with the limb-head.  Joan has pushed the creature away, enough that its grip on Ganiz is broken, allowing him to stand up and strike back.  She pulls out another arrow, twirling it in her hand while she calculates the shot against the last demon, and fires at its center mass.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  30/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: Resistance to B,P,S Damage 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless: Yes 
 Wild Surge Effect: 8 - Difficult Terrain to Enemies within 15ft 

Jegger continues raining down blows on the demon.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 5 

  Action   - Attack (Reckless)
 Attack 1  -  (1d20+7)[ 13 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 11 ] 
 Damage  -  (1d8+6)[ 13 ] 
 Extra Attack  -  (1d20+7)[ 11 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 24 ] 
 Damage  -  (1d8+6)[ 11 ] 
 

 
 
  
Awful
The last cultist takes an arrow to the chest and topples with a scream; Rathoran's accuracy has claimed his life, too.

Even as it's hacked at and shot with an arrow, the demon gurgles with mirthful abandon, the fiercely powerful grip still slowly crushing the life out of its victim.Shoved away from Ganiz, the creature awkwardly waddles towards the paladin, snatching at her with twisted fingers. Jegger's feet scuff in the dry ground as it tugs him along like a unwilling dog on a leash. It chuckles, wet and horrible.

 

It fumbles at her shield, nails screech across her helmet, but she manages to fend off its twisted hands. The monster continues to throttle Jegger.

 Jegger takes 5, 8 and 7 damage for 20 total.


  
 Spoiler: OOC 


Round summary:

Last cultic dies. Armsy is all that's left.

It attacks Joan, but both attacks miss.
 
It hits Jegger automatically for 5, 8, and 7 damage for 20 total. 



---
Everyone but Rath is clustered by armsy.
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  11/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: Resistance to B,P,S Damage 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless: Yes 
 Wild Surge Effect: 8 - Difficult Terrain to Enemies within 15ft 

Jegger grunts in pain as the demon continues to crush him. He had tried to push the thing off, but with so many hands attached to him, it's grip was too strong. It moves toward Joan, dragging the man with him. The only thing to do was hope the demon was felled before he was.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 6 
  Action   - Reckless Attack
Attack 1 w/Advantage  (1d20+7)[ 9 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 18 ] 
Damage  (1d10+6)[ 10 ] 
Attack 2 w/Advantage  (1d20+7)[ 10 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 22 ] 
Damage  (1d10+6)[ 8 ] 
 
 
 
  
Kushina43
With the other targets felled, all that remains is the limb-head desperately clawing at the melee combatants.  Despite a good push to free Ganiz and rough terrain, the demon retains hold of Jegger, attempting to crush him within its grip, while its retaliation against Joan is deflected.  Despite its taunt and lack of much resembling a face to read, Rathoran's intuition tells her this thing is on its last legs, and she aims to finish it off for good.

 "A good try, demon, but no amount of hands will crush our spirits.  Fall, fell creature!" 

Two arrows fire almost simultaneously, swirling around each other's trails and both slamming into the demon at once in nearly the exact same point of impact.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
 Two attacks at range with longbow, rolled in discord, for  14  piercing ( 4, 10 )

  Rathoran Dhodom  
Beast Master Ranger
HP:  15/35, HD: 5d10
AC: 14
Speed:  30
Condition: -
Spell Slots:  1st: 3/4, 2nd: 2/2
Concentration: -
Other Resources:  Arrows (9, 10 used)
 
agignac
Jegger clearly didn't have much time left. With a flick of her arm, Joan shed her shield, then used her second hand on the warhammer. Swinging with all her strength, she said,   "Let. Him. Go!"  

She hit so hard on the first blow that the hammer actually stuck into the demon's hide for a moment, spoiling her second blow. Hopefully it was enough to finish the creature.
The Hellbug
Ganiz continues to harry the demon while it's attention is elsewhere.  Jegger probably can't hold out against it much longer, but with the demon slayers' combined strength, Ganiz hopes it will fall faster.  He sees and opening as the demon drags Jegger and leaps in again, trying to slash deep into its calf.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Same thing as last time.  Bonus action withdraw and jump in and out with a sneak attack

attack:  (1d20+3)[ 8 ] 
damage:  (3d6+3)[ 9 ] 
 
Awful
Finally, under the flurry of attacks, the demon dies.

Jegger manages to sever one of the gripping arms, Timon's Axe hewing through the wicked flesh with ease. Rathoran's arrows strike the creature, sending it reeling into the path of Joan's hammer - which finally comes down to batter the monster, and finally, it's enough. The grips loosen. With a sigh of disappoinment, upsettingly human, the demon begins to slump to the ground, already imperceptibly changed in the difference of  demon  to merely  thing .

Then Ganiz, darting in, lands a slash on the demon's leg. It was already dead, but it was the thought that counted.

A silence falls over the battlefield, broken only by the four's pants for breath. The severed arm still grips Jegger's arm like a grisly ornament, but without the terrible force that fractured bone and contorted muscle.

The outside of the cave, at least, is safe for now. For just a moment, and with luck a little longer, the Wheel is a better place for the destruction of evil, just a little.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  11/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging: No 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Jegger pulls the severed arm free of him and lets it drop,   They can't have gone far!   he says as he jogs to the cave entrance. He only takes a few steps before his legs wobble and he falls to one knee, his free hand shooting out to steady himself. The exposed parts of his arms are black and purple from where the demon grabbed him, and he can feel that his thighs, and on his waist under the breastplate, are bruised just the same.   Damn, I need a moment,   he says, trying to steady his breath.
 
 
  
The Hellbug
Ganiz lets out a deep breath and sheathes his scimitar once he's certain the demon is dead.  He's catching his breath and checking that the lightning projector's actuator is stowed and undamaged when Jegger runs off.    "Hold on, hold on,"   he urges the barbarian,   "you sure you can keep going like that?  We should chase them if we can--there probably aren't too many more or they would have tried to turn the tide and there's no telling where they're going--but you look like you've been through hell already, Jegger.  Joan, could I get in my pack?"  

The innkeep fetches a small bag from the pack the paladin has been carrying for him while he's been occupied with the projector and lays its contents out on a rock, revealing pouches of herbs, small vials of powders and liquids, bandages, and suturing tools.    "Picked up a thing or two about keeping a body going over the years,"   he explains,   "definitely not the good doctor, but it's enough in a pinch."  
agignac
Joan feels a moment of triumph as the over-handed demon finally falls to rise no more. However, the voice she heard in the cave echoes in her mind, and when Jegger turns towards the cave, she follows him.

However, it quickly becomes clear they all need a moment to patch their wounds. Jegger particularly is in bad shape. As he leans over, catching his breath, Joan puts down her hammer and says,   "Hold a moment, my friend. Let me help."  

Gripping his upper arms in her calloused hands, Joan murmurs,   "May the light of my father fill you and heal you."   Her hands grew warm, almost uncomfortably so, and the warmth spread throughout the warrior's body, healing contusions and soothing aches. As the warmth faded she let go, then frowned when she saw the injuries left unhealed.   "I am sorry I am not strong enough to do more."  

But Jegger was not the only one injured. Joan called again for Aid from her father, for herself, Ganiz, and Rathoran. Each of them felt a burst of warmth and healing. It wasn't nearly enough, but it would have to do.

 
 Spoiler 
25 HP for jegger from lay on hands. Aid for Joan, Ganiz and Rathoran - 5 HP each
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  36/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging: No 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Jegger moves his arms and torso about. He nods with a grin,   It's good enough to keep going Joan, thank you.   With another prayer, she is able to heal the others.   You're a woman of many talents,   Jegger says, thankful once again to be traveling by her side.
 
 
  
The Hellbug
Ganiz also applies his medical skills to Jegger at the warrior's invitation.  The places where the demon grabbed him are bruised badly, but there are no open wounds and the innkeep doesn't see much more damage--he's been throttled badly but only that.  He hands Jegger a small, dried chunk of what looks like cactus.    "Chew this,"   he recommends,   "it won't taste good but it'll help with the pain.  Don't think anything's broken--nothing important at least. Impressive, really."  

Ganiz then turns his attention to Joan and her injuries.  The wounds from the cultists crossbows are the most obvious so he produces a curved needle and thread and motions for the paladin to sit.    "There's no world this doesn't hurt,"   he warns as he puts one hand on the quarrel lodged in her leg,   "it'll be in three, two..."  

The former caravan guard pulls the bolt free with a swift tug before he finishes his countdown, immediately putting pressure on the wound with a piece of fabric to stop the bleeding.  A suture for that and her other crossbow wound later, he's satisfied with his handiwork.    "That should hold, but be nice to it.  If you believe it, the most I usually have to deal with these days is scraped knees and splinters,"   he says with a grin that's gone almost as suddenly as it was there.

He repacks his healer's kit and steps up to the cave's entrance, prepared to delve into it with his companions.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Healing for Jegger:  (1d6+9)[ 14 ] 
and  10 HP  healed for Joan, rolled in Discord
 
agignac
It's been a long long while since Joan had anybody to stitch up her hurts other than herself, and she thanks Ganiz with a smile and nod.   "It is a luxury to be cared for, and I thank you."  

Standing, she said,   "There cannot be many left, if they ran when the leader fell. Let us root them out and be done with this evil place."  
Awful
Given whatever succour to their wounds as they can, the four enter the cave. The corpses are left as they are in the desert sun.

Something about it feels - wrong, in the manner of the demons they'd encountered - faint, but lingering, like the smell of rotten food after it was thrown away.

The tunnels are claustrophobic, pressing in on them, and without any light, the party is forced to light lanterns or torches to be able to see at all - except for Joan. The divine spark in her paints the darkness in shades of grey, instead, but even she benefits from the light. Metal scrapes against stone, boots grind against the grit underneath, and your breathing sounds almost deafening in the tight quarters. Finally, the tunnels widens out into a cavern that had obviously been used for residing in.

The cave could have been beautiful, with milky-white sheets of rock draping from the walls and pyrite glinting in the firelight - but the aura of the place and the situation turns it into a monster's den instead. The flickering of the light sends shadows dancing across the crags, turning shapes of the rock into demons and back in the blink of an eye. The lights of your torch reveals crates used as seats around a rocky stump. Clay jars and a couple of glass bottles sit on it, next to a abandoned game of devil hold'em poker, if the pile of copper coins is any indication. Four bedrolls circle a messy clump of wet ash and charcoal that is a extingushed campfire. It still smoulders a little, only recently put out.

There's the sound of dripping water. In one corner of the cavern, some groundspring wells up into a natural basin before dripping out into a calcitic channel running into cracks in the wall. The water is achingly cold to the touch, but seems clear.

Tiny, glass-bodied spiders with odd numbers of legs slowly crawl along the walls.

At the far end of the chamber, two more tunnels lead downwards, the leftmost the most narrow - enough it'd be effort to squeeze through.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  50/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging: No 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Jegger flinches when the metal scrapes against the stone, and quickly clears away from the walls of the cave when they enter the cavern,   Well, now they know for sure their demon is dead and we're giving chase.   He moves to where people had clearly been sitting and sets his torch by the rocky stump. He looks over the scene, and pockets the piles of copper coins,   It ain't weregild but... they can use it all the same back at New Zarian.   He tries the water in the ground spring and, convinced it's clear, drinks from it, drinks from his waterskin until its empty, and refills it there. Splashing some on his face to cool down and remove the grit from traveling and the fight outside, he brings the torch over before the two tunnels,   Which way do you think they went?  
 
 
  
The Hellbug
Ganiz steps carefully as the group descends into the winding tunnels, expecting an ambush to appear from beyond every turn.  Once they arrive at the cavern, he waits, wary, near the entrance until Jegger speaks up--the place has a feeling of wrongness that puts him on edge, despite the younger warrior's seeming confidence.    "I can have a look,"   the innkeep responds,   "but I wouldn't be sure the dead demon is their only one."    As he walks towards the tunnels leading deeper, stops to point out the bedrolls.    "Four bedrolls and four dead cultists.  I don't think the voice we heard from in here was human."  
  "Light, please."    He inspects the tunnels, both the wide and narrow ones, for any sign of a creature, human or not, having passed through them recently.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Survival:  (1d20+8)[ 17 ] 
 
agignac
Joan took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the cavern.   If only evil would choose ugly places to hole up, instead of desecrating natural beauty like this with their stink,   she muttered, mostly to herself.

As Jegger pocketed the coins, Joan took a look at the jars and vials left behind. The cultist had used his captured demons to terrible - nearly fatal - effect. She wanted to be sure none of what remained could be used against them.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the auras around her, trying to determine if any demons were nearby.

 
 Spoiler 
Using Divine sense. I don't know if it would sense something captured in a jar, but worth a shot. Otherwise, any way to figure out what's in them? She doesn't have detect magic.

 Until the end of your next turn, you know the location of any celestial, fiend, or undead within 60 feet of you that is not behind total cover. You know the type (celestial, fiend, or undead) of any being whose presence you sense, but not its identity (the vampire Count Strahd von Zarovich, for instance). Within the same radius, you also detect the presence of any place or object that has been consecrated or desecrated, as with the hallow spell. 
 


 "Light, please." He inspects the tunnels, both the wide and narrow ones, for any sign of a creature, human or not, having passed through them recently. 

So far, Joan had been using her moon-touched warhammer for light, though technically she didn't need it. Her human friends, however, didn't have her advantage. Picking up a fist-sized stone, she held it in her hands a moment until it began to shine with a white light of its own.   "Here,"   she handed it to Ganiz.   "I can only make one at a time, but if you want to toss it down one to see what's there, I can make another after."  
Awful
The water Jegger drinks goes down like blessing, the chill of the deep earth countering the heat of the day. The water is clear, with a faint mineral taste, and the man finds his thirst quenched. With that done, he scrapes up the coins, feeling the weight of copper settle in whatever pouch or pocket he scooped them into.

Too bad for the cultists their game was interrupted; looks like one of them had a straight flush. Well, he wouldn't be a high roller now.
 
Jegger gains 63 copper and 3 silver. 

Ganiz takes a look under the magical and mundane light provided by his allies. The clefts of the paths, left and right, are inspected, but both have seen very recent use - people have been tramping about in this cave for a while, and without the mud and dirt of the surface, there's less to leave tracks. The furrows in the ground make him think things were dragged down the larger passage, but he can't tell how long ago.

For a moment, Joan looks through the world, not just through her eyes, but through the divine spark within. The world is cast in black and white, colour leeched from everything - except one of the jars on the table is awash with muddy, ugly colours she didn't have names for. Looking at it, it's firmly stoppered with lead, a symbol scratched into the top that seems to crawl when not looked at directly.

Not a pretty thing.

It's safe to presume, Joan thinks, that there's a demon sealed in that jar. Maybe it was left behind in the rush.

The other jars are more mundane. Two are just empty, perhaps awaiting filling. One is filled with pickled onions. The last two have the dregs of evil spirits - but the kind that come out of a brewery. The smell of the harsh liquor fills the air as soon as the stopper is pulled out. One of the glass bottles holds water; the other is half-full of wine, presumably belonging to the old man.
agignac
Joan grimaces, then picks up the demon-bottle very carefully. She wraps it with one of the blankets in the cave, then secures it in the center of her pack.  "I must remember not to take any hits in the back"  she murmurs.  "Hopefully the devil with which we have contracted will know how to destroy this without releasing the demon inside." 

Leaving behind the foul smelling liquor and snacks, she joins the others at the cavern. She focuses her sensitivity to fell creatures, hoping it will tell her which tunnel to take.

 
 Spoiler 
I doubt this will work, but another round of divine sense. If it gives us nothing, I vote for the larger tunnel.
 
The Hellbug
Ganiz crouches down and holds the stone towards the floor, then the walls of each of the tunnels, but it's no use, both look equally worn.    "Bad news, couldn't tell you which way they went,"   he announces, standing with a huff,   "both paths are well worn, and even if I knew what I was looking for from our voice in the cave, I wouldn't be able to see it on bare stone.  Only difference is this:"    He points out the furrows in the wider tunnel.   "They dragged something heavy down that way.  If I was still a betting man, I'd have money on them having more down there.  If someone's feeling lucky, though, the decision's theirs."  

He eyes the jar in Joan's hand warily as she slips it into her pack.    "You sure you want to be the one holding onto that?"   he asks,   "not that I'm volunteering, but you tend to be more in the thick of things than most.  You're right--wouldn't want anything cracking it."  
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  50/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging: No 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Jegger holds the torchlight nearby so Ganiz can work. He watches Ganiz and Joan ply their skills to figure out which way to go, and keeps an eye down the tunnels in case anyone, or thing, tries to ambush them.
 
 
  
agignac
 He eyes the jar in Joan's hand warily as she slips it into her pack. "You sure you want to be the one holding onto that?" he asks, "not that I'm volunteering, but you tend to be more in the thick of things than most. You're right--wouldn't want anything cracking it." 

Joan paused, thinking. Ganiz was not wrong. Turning to Rathoran, she said,   "Perhaps it would be safest with you?"  
Kushina43
 "Hm, straight flush. Could've won that pot, ah well, ours now."   Rathoran remarks seeing the cards laid out, letting Jegger take the money.  This attempt at levity didn't quite hide that she was a bit on edge - her grip on her bow and lantern was tight, and while she kept the lantern steady, every movement from out of the group down to the smallest cave spider was otherwise given all her attention.  Her obvious concern was demons - given how little she knows about their variety, a dangerous one could in fact be spider sized for all she knew - but in the back of her mind she felt out of her depth in such a vast cave without Tira to check her blind spot. So even though she'd been listening, when Joan addresses her directly, she flinches a little.


 
 Originally Posted by agignac 
 Turning to Rathoran, she said,   "Perhaps it would be safest with you?"   
 

 "Wha-?  Oh, that jar?  One of the demon containers?  Certainly, I wouldn't mind keeping that safe for you."   She stows her bow to take the demon-filled jar from Joan and put it in her pack safely .  She then points the lantern at the fork ahead, and listening to Ganiz, she gestures at the right tunnel.   "Agreed, no reason to drag something of that size if it leads nowhere.  I also say right." 
Awful
The four edge down the rightward passage. It leads them down, the air getting colder and moister, until they come out into a larger chamber.

It's there they find the bodies.

The chamber is a hollow half-dome, seemingly natural, sagging at one side with the weight of the earth above. Half-burned candles, extingushed now, are mounted on stubs of rock or placed in crevices. The centre of the chamber is scraped flat and smooth to the rock, and then three circles carved like links in a chain into the floor and marked with furrows that form uncomfortable shapes. At the very centre of the circles, sits another jar, uncapped, next to plugs of lead and little brass braizers stained with charcoaly remnants.

Stacked like firewood, a half-dozen bodies of human beings are piled to one side and stripped of anything of value. They're clad in the billowing robes of a desert tribe, now black with ancient dried blood around the throat, hands tied. A quick examination would reveal them as three adult women, one elderly and the others not, and three youths - one female, two male, young enough to have the gangly disproprotions of puberty. Each has had their throat slit. Their eyes, filmy with death, stare blindly at the cave that's become their tomb.

A cold wind, like a breath exhaled, plays around your necks.

On the other side, another few bodies lie, but these are no man or woman. The twisted forms of demons, lifelessly frozen in death so long ago by the sword of the Fool, are laid out. Each is different, a chaotic assortment of limbs and gnarled flesh, mouths drawn back into hateful snarls to reveal jagged, uneven teeth. Even the rock near where they lay seems discoloured, somehow.

Another assortment of lumpen entrances leads to more passages winding their way through the earth, and then-

And then-

You feel it as much as hear it. A woman's voice, accented with the cadence of the desert peoples, husky and soft as if ragged with weeping, whispers in your ear, from the direction of one of the cavern's passages.

 "This way,"  it murmurs, shivering on the edge of hearing.  "This way. Sorrow, sorrow, come the morrow, for murderers and monsters." 
agignac
Joan stared at the demon's bodies for a long moment, and shivered. It seemed unfair that they could lie dead for so long, and still be brought back to life. Was there no permanent death for these abominations?

 Then a voice whispered in her ear, from far away, and she shivered again. Closing her eyes briefly, she whispered a prayer.  "Gods of my father, give us the courage to face what waits below, and the strength to defeat it." 

Straightening her shoulders she strode to the passageway and asked,   "Are we ready?"  
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  50/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging: No 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Like the others, Jegger is taken aback at the sight before them. He stands there, looking in the direction of the sacrificed humans, but eyes out of focus, lost in thought. After a moment, he stirs from his thoughts and looks around, regarding the demon corpses, the jug on the floor, and the circles carved in the cave floor. He tosses the torch down, doffs his shield, and wields the magic axe in two hands. Walking over to where the circles interlink, he begins chopping at the carvings, trying to break their connection with his own cuts into the stone.

In between axe strokes, he says   Maybe... they'll return... after we move on... but it will be... a little harder... to do this.  
 
 
  
The Hellbug
  "Just keep it quick,"   Ganiz replies, shifting the shoulder straps of the lightning projector uneasily,   "remember, we're the ones on the hunt right now."  

He's made a conscious effort to ignore the dead bodies and demon corpses--too close the cultists' planned fate for the residents of New Zarian--but he frowns at the voice, so quiet he's not certain it's not just in his head.    "Anyone else hear that?"  
Kushina43
While Jegger works on disrupting the circles, Rathoran looks at the bodies.  The tremors she'd been holding back intensify and rattle the lantern somewhat - it was that or risk cracking the bow she still held -  her face making it clear this is an expression of anger instead of paranoia.  This wasn't anyone she recognized, personally or via tribal garments, but that they were all so clearly tribesmen made her blood boil - of course they'd start with them, the people out of the way of crowded towns with less structured protection and fewer resources to search for their missing.  No doubt her own tribe could have been targeted and she'd have no way of knowing.   "Those bastards...  Using my people as fuel for these wretched-..  for those  things..! "    She looks over the frozen demon corpses, knowing they lay dormant while the people are gone forever, and holds back the urge to hit them in some way.  The mysterious voice snaps her out of it before she commits to something loud, instantly stancing up for combat, only for nothing to happen yet.


 
 Originally Posted by agignac 
 Straightening her shoulders she strode to the passageway and asked,   "Are we ready?"   
 


 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
 [...]he frowns at the voice, so quiet he's not certain it's not just in his head.    "Anyone else hear that?"   
 

 "Yeah, yes, I certainly heard that, too.."   she takes a breath to calm herself, steadying her nerves for the inevitable conflict ahead, and her scarlet eyes open with fierce determination.   "I have never felt more prepared." 
Awful
Timon's Axe, driven by Jegger's prodigious strength, slams into the stone, each blow raising a shower of sparks and a deafening clang. Any ordinary weapon would have been blunted to uselessness by the abuse, but the enchanted blade of the axe is still razor-sharp when, sweating with the extertion, Jegger checks the edge.

The arcane circle well and ruined for now, the four follow the voice deeper into the belly of the earth. The innocent victims of the demons are once more swallowed by the dark. At each turning and choice, comes the ghostly whisper.

 "This way, this way,"  it caresses the insides of their ears,  "Oh, my husband, my children. What did we do to deserve this?" 

The cave system winds back on itself, it opens into slick caves and steep drops, the roof of the caverns and tunnels pressing down on their heads. Without the voice, it would be nigh impossible to explore at this sort of speed. The various light sources of the party cast indents in the rock in hideous dancing beasts, fading into mundane crags as you get closer.

The air gets colder until your breath mists in front of you. Finally, there's no where else to go.

The cavern is huge, sheets of milky stone draped like curtains across the walls and puddling from stalagtites. More water, perfectly clear, cascades down one wall, covering the floor to an inch's depth of icy liquid - so pure you only can tell it's there from the ripples of your footsteps and the chill through your boots. Pale cave fish, tiny and colourless, sluggishly writhe away from your steps. Stalagmites, as thick as tree trunks, rise like pillars of salt towards the heavens.
 
"I'm impressed,"  rumbles the voice of your quarry, a tombstone grind,  "I expected you to be wandering about these caves for hours."
 
From behind the stone pillars step out five figures. Your lights catch them and send their shadows reeling back across the cavern.

Four of them are clad in the robes of the desert peoples, blue and white and stained with grit and dirt. They clutch at scimitars and are clad over their billowy dress with ancient-looking battered armour, nearly red with rust and accululated grime. Their faces are swaddled in cloth so all you can see is wide, bloodshot eyes in the shadows of their headwrap. They move jerkily, clumsy, irregularly spasming in a clatter of iron, panting and letting out quiet little gurgles.

The fifth is enormous - a full seven and a half feet tall with the bulk to match. He wears very little to hide his muscled physique, only a loincloth and shoulder cloak, ornamented with wide, sharp teeth dangling from the straps. On his bald head, a horned mask of white ivory or alabaster covers his face, entirely smooth and undetailed except for two eye slits and a golden forehead stud, held on somehow with straps. Across one shoulder rests a huge slab of metal in the shape of a sword. It looks more like something torn from a statue than a practical weapon - the blade is clearly broken off at the end, and cracks and chips adorn the long, blunt blade.

 "A minute before we kill each other, then." 

You can't see the figure's eyes in the slots of the mask, but nonetheless, you can tell he's keenly watching you. All the same, his body language is completely unafraid, without even a hint of nervousness.

 
 Spoiler 

 
 

 "I am Kulderath the Undying, warrior-slave of the King. You stink of that devil, but I don't remember you among its servants. What are you? Glint was meant to stop any outsiders from interfering with the work."


  
 Spoiler: OOC 

If you want to roll iniative, you can, and that will end dialogue; Kulderath is aware and watching you, so no surprise round.
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  50/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging: No 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Jegger observes his handiwork and wipes the sweat from his brow. Steadying his breath, he checks the blade of the axe.   Still sharp,   he murmurs. He goes to show the remarkable edge to Joan, but then sees his companions are standing alert, and he then notices the whispering voice. His eyes go wide. The group, determined, continues forward in the direction they are being led.

-------------

As the group gets further in, the air begins to cool considerably, and Jegger welcomes the drop in temperature from the dry desert winds outside. Still, something in the air has him unnerved. Eventually, they reach a cavern with no other exit, and a voice rumbles out. Five figures step out from behind stone columns. His instinct is to grab at Timon's Axe, but the leader continues speaking, and Jegger holds the torch out forward to get a better look. The man... or creature, is massive, at least a foot taller than Jegger, and covered in muscles. The sword it carries, Jegger doesn't think he'd be able to lift in one hand.

 "I am Kulderath the Undying, warrior-slave of the King. You stink of that devil, but I don't remember you among its servants. What are you? Glint was meant to stop any outsiders from interfering with the work." 

Jegger calls out,   Then Glint has failed you, because she scurried off into the desert as we butchered her demon, just like your men did outside these caves.  
 
 
  
The Hellbug
Ganiz shivers at the cold as the group enters the large chamber.  How far down could they be if it's like this against the hot desert sun?  And the water, spread in such a thin layer over the cavern floor?  Ganiz braces himself for the unnatural, and this time, unlike every time he's been surprised by a shadow on the way down, he proven right to have done so.  But the party's company isn't demons.  At least, they aren't like the demons or the cultists they have previously encountered.  They seem to be enemies, though, with the strange mechanical way the desert people move and the voice of the big man clearly being the same as the one that came from the cave earlier.  While that's the case and a significant part of him wants to just get to the violence and be done with it, there may be something to learn here.  The fact that he can 'smell' the devil on themis strange enough, after all.

The innkeep doesn't lower his weapon as he adds to what Jegger has to say.    "You must misremember, then,"   he says doing his best to keep his voice steady.  He pulls back the band of fabric he has been using to hide Mercy's mark.    "Ganiz, if you need a name.  We're here to make sure the things down here stay dead and buried with their King.  This is no place for them."  
Awful
Kulderath makes a strange grating rumbling, and it's only belatedly you realise it's a laugh. It echoes wierdly in the cavern, aching off the pearly white stone flows of ten thousands years of water deposits.

 "I told her relying on one demon was careless even if it weakened the other groups,"  he grinds out.  "But Glint said that these revanchist fools weren't worth a damn, so we had to back them up as much as possible. Seems we were both right."
 
At the sight of the Infinite Mercy's mark, though, his laughter fades. The tone of that gravestone-grind voice shifts - disgust, and disappointment, a little, too.
 "Yeah, there's the stench of it. To bargain yourself to monsters... Pah! Where's your pride?" 
The giant man pauses, then shakes his head.
 "It doesn't matter. Listen, boy. Demons were made without death and a single purpose. If you survive, ask your master this:  why did God create demonkind? " 
agignac
Joan stared at the demon before her, and tediously made her way through her memories, trying to dredge up the name or any information about it.

It spoke with calm intelligence, and that made Joan nervous. Of all the demons she'd fought, she'd never just  chatted  with one. And its talk of other groups - did it just refer to the humans working with the devil, or were there factions amongst the demon cultists as well?

Ganiz and Jegger, both braver than her, seemed unfazed, and traded barbs with this so-called Kulderath. Joan shifted her warhammer from hand to hand, and tested her shield - if they were going to fight, what was the point in all this posturing?
The Hellbug
'Boy' is something Ganiz hasn't been called in a long time, and he's surprised that, even with all his years, it still rankles like a burr in a boot.  As a younger man, he may indeed have jumped at the insult, but this is a servant of the king, his age is a given even ignoring his chosen name.    "Pride like that's bought me nothing but pain, all told,"   the innkeep answers, spurred by this reflection,   "same as demons have.  Neither's worth having around."    The imposing figure's question about demons' purpose does get some rocks rolling, though.  Ganiz has never given God much thought.  Whoever they are, everyone knows they're dead--always have been as far as he's concerned--but, if more academic minds are to be believed, something had to set the Wheel to turning, and Ganiz definitely can't say where demons belong in that.

  "Why didn't you back them up, then?"   he asks after a pause.  Ganiz doesn't know what a revanchist is, but he'd like to think he knows a fool when he sees one.   "We heard you in the canyon up top.  Your chances woulda been better with those cultists than on your own."  
Awful
The giant humanoid gives a loose shrug, rolling his shoulders. One of the desert tribesmen spasms wildly, suddenly, and briefly drops to a knee before standing back up, giving little whimpers. Kulderath eyes it for a second, then seems to dismiss it from his attention and return his unseen gaze to the party. 
"Pride drove the King to master the Wheel and stand astride the world. Sure, it ended bad, but he had a pretty good run of things for a while, huh? Anyway, my plan had been to wait it out here while you stumbled about in  the cave until reinforcements arrived. Then I'd pincer you with these  dregs, wipe the slate."  He jabs an oversize thumb over his shoulder at the twitching desert people.   "'Course, somehow you've found your way here. I  am  curious how you did it. Devilry, I guess."

 He gives another laugh. 

"  Maybe my chances would have been better fighting alongside those stiffs outside, but charging into the path of a lightning bolt didn't seem like a great planand to be honest - I didn't feel like rushing out to save those idiots. This is a fairer fight. Much more fun, so it's worked out in the end. Anyway, the dregs were sloppy work, so we better get this done before they start falling over by themselves. Four proper iron nail warriors and this would already be over."

 He breathes in and out slowly, then slowly lowers the gigantic blunt slabsword into a low guard position.
 
" 'Oh, great sun! Burn fiercely, until the might of your heat has scorched the land, and all know of your terrible majesty!' " 

The cadence of the way he says it makes it clear he's quoting something - perhaps some ancient poet or philospher.  You can't see his face, but the tone of his voice suggests a grin has formed on his hidden features.

 " But know that all your flames must inevitably be swallowed by the horizon, and with their fading comes the unassailable tyranny of dusk.'  
Don't let me down now!"


  
 Spoiler: OOC 

Alright, time for combat!
Roll init!
Kulderath has got 17.
The dreg soldiers got 13.

Kulderath is around 25 feet away, the dregs 30. The dregs are in half-cover from stalagmites, all seeming to be armed with scimitars.
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  50/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging: No 
 Reckless: No 
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Jegger eyes go wide in alarm when the giant man begins to shout, but he quickly regains his composure and snarls,   Kulderath the Undying! We'll make a liar out of you!   With Timon's axe in hand and his shield in the other, he rushes forward.

 
 Spoiler: Initiative 
 (1d20+3)[ 19 ] 
 

 
 
  
agignac
      
 Joan turned her memory back 75 years, to when she was training. One of the clerics, Sister Clara, had spent months researching demons with her, and trying to embed them in Joan's memory. Some of them, the really bad ones, were still known by some today. Sukkallomethe the Sky-drinker, Multitudinous Izerkiki, Yawlorotheid City-eater. Many more that she'd forgotten. Those ones possessed extreme strength and a cruel and terrible intelligence.

But Joan has never heard of a demon like this.

The demon legions of the King were forces of destruction - rage, without mercy. When they didn't kill or destroy, it was because of the magical bindings of the King or his sorcerers that prevented them. You've never heard of one just sort of talking like this, especially as he's not even trying to persuade you away from fighting him or changing your target. While many (if not all) demons can talk, none of them are what you'd call casual conversationalists.

The epithet 'the undying' suggests it's unusual, but from what you've learned, it's true for all of demonkind. All the same, this creature before her is clearly not a mundane human.

Joan finally formed her thoughts into a question and opened her mouth to ask it, but as usual, her wit was too slow. It seemed it was time to fight. 
 
  
 
 Spoiler 

 (1d20-1)[ 4 ] 
 
Kushina43
A conversation with a demon was not within Rathoran's expectations, but what she's heard didn't exactly lessen her anger.  Especially with the grotesque motions of the desert people beside this Kulderath, clearly under some demonic influence.  Their spasms and gurgles had her briefly question whether they were still salvageable, but the bodies in the previous room seemed to suggest they cared not for their victims, and that this could merely be demons puppeting corpses.

As for Kuld himself, Rathoran initially held back to avoid setting anything off, Jegger and Ganiz speaking instead.  The big guy suggests something about the purpose God had in creating demons, but however much this was a world shaking revelation - at least, he made it sound like it was - would be lost on herself of slightly different teachings.    Perhaps that difference is what made the desert tribes enticing targets..   a small part of her muses internally, perhaps without merit, yet successfully rising her temper once more enough to speak.

 "King this, Wheel that, Pride whatever..  You see, big man Kuld, I'm not exactly in this for cosmic balance, to save face, or any grand purpose.  I'm here to keep people  alive .  And this operation you've got here, the mountain of corpses made of  my  people, makes it clear that while  you  are, no one is safe.  Which is why I am ready to do  anything  to put you in the dirt, even work with some devil."  

Kulderath raises his weapon and begins some kind of chant - poetry, maybe? - and Rathoran angrily pulls out her own bow in preparation for the fight, scarlet eyes almost flaring with her temper as she glares at Kulderath.

 "Let's test the real strength of that epithet, Mister  "Undying!" " 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Rolled in Discord, Initiative was  8 
 
Awful
As the Wheel turns, so comes the time for violence.

 It is Jegger and Ganiz's turn. 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Init:
Jegger: 19
Ganiz: 18
Kulderath the Undying: 17
Dregs: 13
Rathoran: 8
Joan: 4

Kulderath is around 25 feet away, the dregs 30. The dregs are in  half-cover from stalagmites, all seeming to be armed with scimitars.
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  50/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless: Yes 
 Wild Surge Effect: 1 

Jegger lets out a warcry and his eyes become inky black pools of darkness. Shadowy tendrils lack out from him as he advances, snaking out towards Kulderath and the dregs. Jegger himself is invigorated by their life force as he engages Kulderath with Timon's Axe.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 1 

  Bonus Action   - Rage
 Wild Surge  - 1 - Shadowy tendrils lash around you. Each creature of your choice that you can see within 30 feet of you must succeed on a Constitution saving throw or take 1d12 necrotic damage. You also gain 1d12 temporary hit points.
Dregs and Kulderath are all within 30ft, so they must make a DC 14 Constitution saving throw or take  (1d12)[ 4 ]  necrotic damage. Jegger gains  (1d12)[ 5 ]  temporary hit points.
  Move   - Move to engage Kulderath
  Action   - Attack
 Attack 1  (Reckless) -  (1d20+7)[ 23 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 18 ] 
 Damage 1  -  (1d8+6)[ 13 ] 
 Extra Attack  (Reckless) -  (1d20+7)[ 21 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 17 ] 
 Damage 2  -  (1d8+6)[ 10 ] 
 

 
 
  
The Hellbug
Ganiz bites his lip and waits, tense and alert, while Rathoran trades words with Kulderath.  He glances at the group's foes, mentally preparing for what he's going to do when the big man draws his sword.  When Rathoran begins to draw an arrow, the innkeep is already in motion.  He agilely weaves through the stalagmites, finds an angle that he can send a single bolt of lightning through two of the dregs, braces, and pulls the lightning projector's trigger.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Cunning action to bonus action dash, move to a spot where I can line up two dregs and action to bring the lightning.  If I've got any extra movement, it's going into distancing, and  I'll use the Skirmisher reaction to leg it if anyone ends their turn next to me.

Damage:  (8d6)[ 4 ][ 3 ][ 3 ][ 4 ][ 3 ][ 6 ][ 2 ][ 1 ](26) 
 
Awful
 The battle is on .

With a flurry of motion, the two sides begin to move, finding positions and preparing weapons to swing. The motion of light sends shadows cavorting in a mad festival across the walls of the cave, and one could almost see the spirits of the dead watching the battle in the frantic twisting of the light and dark.

As Jegger dashes forward, necrotic energy flows forth and steals life for his own. The Axe flashes and sinks into the flesh of Kulderath, and dull red blood wells from the cuts. The giant grunts at the impacts, and then laughs - this time a deep, booming roar that hurls the echo across the chamber.

 "You'll need more than that!" 

With two hands and a roar, the demihuman swings the enormous blunt blade at Jegger. Having left himself open for total offence, Jegger is unable to dodge. The first strike cracks his arm through his shield and knocks it aside as the slabsword hits with tremendous force, leaving him open for the follow-up blow as the sheer force of knocks him back. The demihuman chases, covering the distance in a single long stride as he prepares the next attack. It comes with the force of a meteor. For a moment the world is a blur of movement and pain. The impact has sent you stumbling, ribs cracked if not broken, and intense pain ripples along your left arm whenever you move it. The fingers don't quite grip as they should. You realise your breastplate is deeply dented.

 Jegger takes 45 damage!

"Still standing? Very good!"  he roars joyfully. Deep within the eyeslits of his mask, the tiny dots of eyelights flare with berserk energy.  "Let us kill and be killed!"

 Meanwhile, Ganiz has already made his way forward.

With a hiss -CRACK  Ganiz fires the penultimate lightning bolt from the Projector. One of the jittering dregs catches the lightning bolt fully and spasms, screaming in pain, while another manages to jerk out the way of the worst of it. Ganiz's legs prickle through the water as the powerful electricity disperses.

The two he wounded come at him, blades flashing in the uneven light, their eyes madly wide and full of pain.

The blade of one shrieks off the projector's rod, leaving a bright line on the metal, but the second blow smoothly slices a deep cut on his thigh, just below where the chainmail's protection stops.

 Ganiz takes 9 damage! 

The other one takes only a few steps before he staggers, without even being struck again. He clutches at his head and howls in agony, a high, feral sound.

Another one of the ones behind does the same, scrabbling at his chest. He makes some horrible racking coughs, thin bile dripping through the cough over his mouth.

The fourth one dashes forward, straight for Rathoran, keening.

 "Hur-rryyy,"  he gurgles, even as he does his best to bisect the wanderer.  "Runnnn..." 

Even as he tells Rathoran to flee, he drives his attack home, sending a slice across her stomach in an attempt to spill her guts across the cave. Hot blood blooms from the wound to contrast against the chill of the water.

 Rathoran takes 9 damage!


  
 Spoiler: OOC 

Summary:
Kulderath gets axed, but doesn't seem to mind too much.
Ganiz lightnings two of the dregs. One makes the save, the other doesn't.

Kulderath beats Jegger bloody with a hit and crit, summing  45 bludgeoning damage . Each hit drives Jegger back 5ft, and Kulderath steps forward each time to keep him in range.

The dregs have their turn. Two fail their d20 roll and so do nothing at all.
The remaining two move forward. One moves to Ganiz and attacks twice, hitting once for  9 damage . This probably then triggers Ganiz' scout feature.

The second runs up to Rathoran, and in what must be statistically unlikely, rolls the same hit and damage for  9 damage  to her, too.

It's now  all your turns.  

Kulderath is next to Jegger.
Dreg 1 is quite injured and hasn't moved.
Dreg 2 is somewhat injured and next to Ganiz.
Dreg 3 hasn't moved.
Dreg 4 is next to Rathoran.
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  33/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless:  
 Wild Surge Effect: 1 

Jegger lands two solid blows, but Kulderath doesn't even flinch, taunting the warrior as he brings his own massive sword down onto Jegger. The blow lands harder than any hit Jegger has ever taken, and he barely manages to keep hold of his the axe and stay on his feet. Kulderath shoves him back and lands another hit, driving Jegger back even further. Jegger grits his teeth, tasting blood in his mouth, and strikes back, hoping he and the others can prevail in this dark place.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 2 

Rage Resistance reduces 45 damage to 22, and Jegger had 5 THP, so that's 17 damage, leaving him at 33.

  Action   - Attack Kulderath (not recklessly)
 Attack 1  -  (1d20+7)[ 27 ]   CRIT!! 
 Damage  -  (1d8+6)[ 14 ]  +5 damage from Crit, rolled in Discord
 Extra Attack  -  (1d20+7)[ 23 ] 
 Damage  -  (1d8+6)[ 7 ] 
 

 
 
  
agignac
 " Kill and be killed."   It was clear from Joan's tone that she wasn't just repeating the warrior-slave's words; she was turning them into a vow.

Stepping forward, she held her shield up and swung her warhammer. It's gentle glow in the darkness belied the viciousness of her intended strike. She walloped the demihuman once, calling upon the divinity within her to lend righteousness to her strike. The divine light flared, searing into the demon.

Using her momentum, Joan swung a second time, again connecting with a loud "clang". However, she wasn't hurting it like she wanted to. She'd have to move faster, hit harder, if she wanted to survive this.

 
 Spoiler 

Bonus action - vow of enmity - adv against Kundy.
Action - Two attacks. - two hits as per discord - 24 points of damage
 
The Hellbug
Ganiz wastes no time in slipping away from his attacker.  He had hoped his opening salvo would end this fight before it began, but, seeing the savage beating Jegger is taking, the old warrior revises his strategy.  He takes a brief moment disappear behind a stalagmite, holstering the lightning gun's projector and drawing his sling from his belt.  He glances at his new wound, painful but not much more than that for now, unlucky and lucky both really, as he takes a breath and loads a stone.  Suddenly, having given just enough time to keep his pursuer guessing, he leaps out from his hiding place, hurls a stone at the dreg, and runs towards where Rathoran is fleeing from her own attacker.    "Rathoran, I'm going to need that last shot!"   he shouts above the melee and his own splashing footfalls.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Reaction to run 15 feet then movement to keep going towards wherever Rathoran is ending up.  Bonus action to hide along that way at some point for a tricky ambush, but I already rolled my attack in the Discord and it missed.
 
Kushina43
As unsettling as these demon-possessed people were already, having one urge her to flee as they try to kill her shocks her yet again, her backstep to dodge its swing a half-breath late because of it and opening a gash. She grunts with the pain, though more angry than hurt, and takes a good look at both this person's erratic movements and the two behind who struggled to the point of immobility.  She briefly shuts her eyes and inhales, then in the same breath she steadied herself, she both gave a quiet  "I'm sorry."  and exhaled her zephyr winds, wrapping her arms and legs in that magical whirlwind.


 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "Rathoran, I'm going to need that last shot!"   
 

 "On my way!"  She launches herself away with the winds to find the nearest cover without retaliation, taking care to stay within Ganiz's reach, and after crouching behind a stalagmite on one knee she fires away at the immobile dreg Ganiz had previously zapped, aiming to finish the poor soul before they suffer any longer.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
 Bonus Action: Zephyr Strike
Move:  Out of melee, take cover
Action:  Attack + Extra Attack on Dreg 1, switch to Dreg 2 if Dreg 1 is killed.
Results:
-Attack 1:   19  to hit,  10  piercing damage
-Attack 2:   19  to hit,  7  piercing damage
 
Awful
Rathoran darts away, loosing a pair of arrows into the most injured dreg, and slumped as he is, he doesn't even begin to attempt a dodge before the two arrows strike him. He collapses onto his knees, then crumples on to his face, slowly dying the cold water around him red.

Meanwhile, Ganiz's stone clatters off a stalagmite, leaving a bold scuffmark against the milky stone.

Jegger and Joan together assail Kulderath. Together, they strike at him, hewing into his flesh or bludgeoning him with incandescent divine energy, and the big man takes it without a flinch. Even at vivid red blood drips from the axewounds, he lets loose another roaring laugh.
 "Ahahaha! Keep it up!"  
He counterattacks, the enormous blade swung with disgusting ease to first crash into Jegger, knocking him back again in a welter of sparks and a deafening clang, and then Kulderath simply continues the swing to plough into Joan. Water sprays up from her boots as she's driven back, bones aching with the force of it.

 Jegger takes 23 damage; Joan takes 17, and they're both knocked back 5ft.

 The dregs, meanwhile, are struggling. Only one of them has moved to fight; with Rathoran escaped, the dreg moves back towards Joan and Jegger, swinging wildly. Joan blocks it with her shield, but Jegger, the more battered of the two from the demihuman, feels the scimitar slice into his meat.

 Jegger takes 9 damage. 

The dreg that had previously sliced Ganiz is clutching at his swordhand, screaming through a bitten togue as he seems to wrestle with himself; another one still hasn't moved from his position, coughing violently and twitching.

With a roll of his head, Kulderath looks at them and sighs, bringing down his sword to send up a cloud of water and dust to cover him springing backwards. The slabsword sends up a fierce sleet of water as he drops it heedlessly next to the unmoving dreg.

 "See?"  he rumbles.  "Substandard materials, substandard result. The only thing they're good for..." 
He grabs the dreg around the head with one mighty fist and hauls him upright, drawing back the other. The man screams and clutches at the thick hand closed around his face before Kulderath slams a hand into his chest and grips something. With a grunt and a slick sound of metal and flesh, the dreg screams again, awful and loud, as a long iron nail is pulled from his chest above his heart - along with the handful of robe that had hidden it. The wound sprays blood, bright and aterial, and Kulderath holds up the corpse so the blood coats him in a gory shower. He holds him up for one, three, five seconds, before the spray stops and the dreg is barely twitching.

With a dismissive grunt, Kulderath hurls the body aside and retrieves his blade. Across his bulky body, his wounds have already begun to knit together. He turns to you, baptised in red, a saguine figure, and rolls his shoulders.
 "Now, where were we?" 
 
 Spoiler: Summary: 

The first dreg takes two arrows to the chest and dies.
The second dreg rolls a one and does nothing.
The third dreg rolled a 1, does nothing.
The fourth dreg runs in between Joan and Jegger to attack. He rolls a 10 for Joan and a 20 for  Jegger, striking him for 9 damage.

 Kulderath hits  Jegger for 23  and  Joan for 17 , then moves back and devours dreg 3, healing much of his wounds and killing dreg 3 in the process.

It's now  all your turns.  

Kulderath is further back, next to the corpse of dreg 3.
Dreg 1 is dead.
Dreg 2 is somewhat injured and hasn't moved.
Dreg 3 has been drunk like a juicebox and is dead.
Dreg 4 is in the middle of Joan and Jegger.
 
Kushina43
The bloody shower Kulderath took seemed to recover his strength, which Rathoran takes note of before running out of cover to Ganiz.  She pulls the lightning vial from her pack and sticks it in the projector, hearing it buzz to confirm the loading successful.  "You saw that too, yeah?  Took a literal bloodbath and sealed his damn injuries.  Much as I want to help Jegger and Joan by big game hunting, we'd best get the small fry out fast before he starts doing more of that, yeah?  I'll start by taking pressure off them, I trust your aim and judgement."   Another nod to confirm, then she darts back to the nearest cover before firing two shots at the thrall between the other pair, aiming for the brain and spine hoping to end it swiftly and painlessly.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Move to Ganiz
BA: Reload Lightning Projector
Move to cover again if it's within reach
Action:  Attack + Extra Attack Dreg 4.  Rolled a crit and a 19 to hit via Discord, for  24  and  14  piercing respectively
 
The Hellbug
Ganiz shivers while Rathoran loads up the final vial of lightning, and his gaze stays locked on Joan and Jegger's struggle.  Now that he's stilled, a thought creeps up through the adrenaline.  Something's different this time.  The demons, unnatural as they were, had seemed...alive, at least, for lack of a better word-- violent beyond reason and brought to life by death but living breathing things.  The dregs, now that they're moving, seem closer to corpses dangling on unseen strings even if they bleed like anything else.  Disgust is replaced by dread that grips Ganiz's chest while the holy warriors are battered by the huge,  laughing  man.

  "...that too, yeah...want to help Jegger and Joan...small fry...start by taking pressure off of them, I trust your aim and judgement."  

Ganiz's reserved nod comes late, but, almost in opposition to his own belief, he finds his feet and splits off from the ranger back towards where he had previously fired the weapon.  The dual thunk of a pair of expertly aimed arrows into the other dreg barely registers as he aims the targeting rod with a shaking hand and lets loose another bolt of lightning at Kulderath and his final minion.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Bonus action to dash.  Getting back to where I can hit Kulderath and the final dreg at once and firing.
 That'll be  (8d6)[ 25 ]  lightning damage.
 
agignac
Joan feels a shudder start deep in her soul, radiating outwards until her hammer and shield shake briefly.  "This is why you call yourself undying?"  she asks, her voice thick with revulsion.  "You truly are damned." 

She begins to close the distance towards him, then the room is lit with lightening. Shielding her eyes from it, she waits for the glare to die down, and immediately takes the final few steps to close with the demihuman again.  "Science gives us lightning, but my father will provide the thunder." 

She swings her hammer, once, twice, trying to channel her fear and her fury into strength and precision, so that this particular piece of evil would harry the living no longer.

 
 Spoiler 

Bonus action to cast thunderous smite. If I hit, 2d6 bonus damage, and he's knocked back 10 feet and prone.
attack 1
 (1d20+5)[ 17 ]  (1d20+5)[ 25 ] 
damage  (1d8+4)[ 8 ] 
attack 2
 (1d20+5)[ 8 ]  (1d20+5)[ 12 ] 
damage  (1d8+4)[ 11 ] 
thunder damage  (2d6)[ 5 ] 
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  18/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless:  
 Wild Surge Effect: 1 

As everyone bursts into action around him, Jegger limps after Joan. She summons a power that hits Kulderath with a resounding blow, sending the... man... to the ground. Jegger hacks at Kulderath with desperate fury.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 3 
  Move   - Move to Kulderath
  Attack   w/Advantage -  (1d20+7)[ 23 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 26 ] 
Damage -  (1d8+6)[ 12 ] 
  Extra Attack   w/Advantage -  (1d20+7)[ 8 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 8 ] 
Damage -  (1d8+6)[ 7 ] 
 
 
 
  
Awful
Ganiz aims with a sort of quiet, determined desperation. With a crack of lightning, the final vial is fired. With a smooth motion, Kulderath brings his enormous sword in the way, like a shield, and while his hand blackens and burns, the lightning is conducted away into the water. The dreg isn't so lucky, the bolt sending his limbs spasming and dancing wildly as he collapses, blessedly dead.

The dreg by Jegger and Joan raises his blade to strike at them, but with a whiss-thunk-thunk, a pair of arrows appear in his eye and throat. With a relieved sigh, the man lowers his sword and sways on his feet. He looks in the direction of his killer, then without a word falls back against a stalagmite, the blade clattering from his hand. Rathoran darts away, out of sight, behind a column.

Meanwhile, the two melee champions race forward against Kulderath. With all her righteous wrath, her anger and fear and hatred for the infinite cruelty of demonkind exampled before her, Joan strikes, her hammer singing with the power in it-

-and it crashes against the demihuman with the force of a star, flashing blindingly bright, a roar of thunder hurling itself back and forth through the chamber in a rampage of sound, echoing wildly, and the huge not-man is hurled backwards to crash against stone hard enough to crack it. Never before has she channeled such of her father's power in a single blow, and her very essence roils with it, as if her very soul is a storm, rushing her onwards against the foe.

Jegger moves in, axe flashing, but such was the force of the sacred smite still bouncing in his skull he finds himself staggering, his wounded arm screaming in protest against moving, he finds his limb siezing up and his axe crashes into stone instead of flesh. He manages to keep his grip as Timon's Axe shivers in his fist.

With another roar, still moving, still undying, Kulderath surges to his feet, clawing his way up the rock face with one hand to help him stand. The tremendous thundering blow had struck him in the face, and the flawless porcelain white of it is shattered with a crazy network of cracks. As he rises, a great shard tumbles free, revealing a great fanged maw. He reaches up and forces his jaw back into its socket with a horrendous crunching grind and smiles. It's a stretched wide baring of the teeth, almost ear-to-ear, a grin without an ounce of human limits or reason. Across his huge body, wounds leak vividly red blood, steaming like geysers in the cold air of the cave.
 
"  That burn... the touch of Heaven! I know it well! You're full of surprises!  " 
 
 Spoiler: The Joy of Destruction 

 
 

 "  I'm not damned but blessed! To have one purpose, one need, to fill until the very Wheel is shattered!!   To fight!" 
As he speaks, he swings his great slabsword, but he's a fraction slower than before - enough Joan can bring her shield up in a parry that rattles her bones but lets it shriek off her defence. It's the first time the giant warrior's blows were even slow enough to attempt a defence.
 "Kill!" 
As if spurred by the miss, he brings it into motion again and crashes it into Jegger, sending him reeling back again. His entire frame shudders under the impact. Even the incredibly durable warrior finds he's reaching his limits; battered beyond any other man, Jegger feels the pain in every pore.
 "And die! Over and over!" 
 Jegger takes 21 damage.

"Fight! Kill! Die! Bare your teeth and abandon all reason!! Let us slaughter each other and laugh madly!!"


  
 Spoiler: OOC 

All the dregs are dead!

Kulderath is smited like the smack of God himself, but made his save vs the lightning bolt. The last dreg didn't, though.

He hits Jegger once for 21 damage, but misses Joan.

He's starting to look quite wounded, but he's not done for yet...

 It's all your turns. Fight! Kill! Die!
 
 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  8/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging: Yes 
 Reckless:  
 Wild Surge Effect: 1 

Jegger wobbles as he is knocked back by Kulderath's mighty sword swing. His hearing is getting muffled and his vision is blurry at the edges. He can't feel his limbs, so he looks to one hand and then the other, confirming his axe and shield are still there.

Fight, kill die.

Jegger will do it. But he isn't abandoning reason. He's always been tough, able to withstand what many others couldn't. He might be able to take one more hit from Kulderath, which might allow the others to take the giant cultist down. He can hear Gendo in his thoughts,  This is no time for caution Jegger. 

Surging forward, Jegger leaves himself wide open to attack, aiming for the wounds Joan inflicted on Kulderath with her radiant smite.

 
 Spoiler: Turn 4 
  Move   - Move back to Kulderath
  Action   - Attack Kulderath Recklessly
 Attack 1  -  (1d20+7)[ 26 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 18 ] 
 Damage 1  -  (1d8+6)[ 9 ] 
 Extra Attack  -  (1d20+7)[ 18 ] ,  (1d20+7)[ 16 ] 
 Damage 2  -  (1d8+6)[ 11 ] 
 
 
 
  
Kushina43
With all the thralls killed and no more chances for Kulderath to heal his wounds after Joan's mighty blow, Rathoran looks to the large demon, toothy maw exposed and steaming blood from his growing injuries.  He bounces an attack against Joan's shield but hits Jegger in its follow-through, and in that moment she dashes from her cover and slides on the cave floor while aiming, exhaling to steady her nerves.  While sliding, the zephyr winds swirl up from her legs and around her body, then focus into the arrow moments before firing, the winds guiding the projectile towards Kulderath at incredible speeds.  The blowback from the shot launches her to her previous cover, the winds wrapping her legs yet again as she kneels to fire a second arrow.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Moving between cover while firing the first arrow, getting into cover, then firing the second.
First arrow with advantage rolled 21 to hit, dealt  21  piercing and  7  force.  Second arrow rolled 6 to hit and misses.
 
The Hellbug
That this Kulderath is tough is beyond question, both he and Jegger are fighting well past what Ganiz assumes any mortal could bear, but his quickness in deflecting the loaned weapon's final bolt of lightning practically beggars belief for one with a weapon so large.  Ganiz is still reeling from this when Joan's blessed blow connects.  The innkeep steps back from the sheer sound of her holy mace crashing into the huge not-man, but Kulderath being thrown to the floor and rising, bloody and mad, is the first sign that he may indeed be flagging.  With that in mind, Ganiz raises his sling again and aims for the masked monster's head, adding his meager-seeming contribution to the battle.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Sweet, back to the old standby.  Move, hide in the stalgamites, attack.  Since I've got an ally on Kulderath, it's a sneak attack either way.
Hide:  (1d20+6)[ 15 ] 
Attack with sling:  (1d20+8)[ 11 ]  (1d20+8)[ 24 ] 
Damage:  (1d4)[ 1 ] + (2d6)[ 2 ] +3= 6 
 
agignac
Joan staggers under the force of her own attack, the pure wrath of heaven echoing through the chamber for long seconds. She didn't think she'd ever channeled that much power before. It had drained her, but the fight wasn't over yet. The insane demon was laughing... laughing! Jegger had taken more punishment than she had thought possible, and if they didn't end this soon, the brave fool wasn't going to see the sunlight again.

Gritting her teeth, she advances on the demon, her warhammer raising and falling like a piston. As she swings, she shoulders her shield down and into his knees, trying to drop him to the floor. She didn't know about "over and over," but she was certainly going to try to kill him, and hopefully not die in the process.

 
 Spoiler 

First hit 21 for 10 damage.
2nd hit 19 for 11 damage.
Shove athletics check of 20 to knock prone.
 
Awful
Jegger presses himself to the attack, hewing into the demihuman's body with Timon's Axe, pushing past the pain and resistance of his own body. More steaming red blood gushes forth from the terrible wounds, and Kulderath staggers as the water around his ankles turns increasing red and churned with the violence. He lifts his slabsword to retaliate when a arrow flashes out of the dark with tremendous force, sinking into his shoulder hard enough to project our the other side and sending him twisting with the impact - and Ganiz's slingstone cracks off the tip of one of the mask's horns, just away from a clean impact.

Into this comes Joan again, hammer swinging, and the paladin delivers one, two strikes - and finally crashes into him with her shield, and the demihuman topples away to land in a spray of freezing droplets on his hands and knees. For a second, he stays there, a thin line of blood drooling from his exposed mouth, and it seems like the inhumanly tough creature before you must be done. His muscles bludge, and with a monstrous roar, he tears himself to his feet. One of his arms hangs limp, and with furious strength he swings the slabsword with just a single hand.

Jegger tries to block. He really does. But, where any other man would have already have died, his body finally lets him down. His shield rises, slow, too slow, and the enormous blunt blade of Kulderath's weapon slams into him with irrestistable force. His feet leave the ground, the momentum of the swing carrying the wandering warrior in a spiraling fall that ends with a hard impact with the shallowly-submerged stone of the cavern floor. Next to him, Timon's Axe splashes into the cold water and settles beneath the surface.

 Did you do yer best, boy? Ain't no shame in it if you did. 

The water seeps under his armour. He doesn't feel the cold of it.

 Ain't many heroes unlucky enough to get old, boy. 

 Here in the cave, far beneath the earth, the dark welcomes him with gentle arms.

 Jegger is dying.

 Kulderath howls, a awful sound of triumph. As if drawing strength from Jegger's defeat, with unavoidable momentum, the slabsword hurtles through the air again and Joan finds himself driven back, with the impact, armour freshly dented. She too can feel her body starting to give out in the last quarter, even as her quarry slumps, chuckling through bloody teeth. The statue-belonging weapon the demihuman carries is allowed to slide from a ready position until the cracked tip of it impacts the cavern floor.

 Joan takes 12 damage. 
 "Good fight,"  the being before you rumbles. Even nearly bent double, hacked and bludgeoned, pierced with arrows and scorched by lightning, there's a terrible vitality in the lights of his eyes, a fierce bubbling joy at odds with his damaged body. He pants for breath, great beastly steaming clouds billowing from his mouth like his guts are a furnace.  "Not many have beaten me before."

 Kulderath the Undying draws himself up to his full height, staring down at you all with an unbowed head. He lets out a final bellowing laugh and swings his blade up onto his shoulder, until he was mimicing the position you had first encountered him in.  
"I look forward to our rematch! Come, then!"


  
 Spoiler: OOC 

 Kulderath knocks Jegger to 0 with one attack and hits Joan with another for 12 damage. 
The next hit will almost certainly finish him off.
 
The Hellbug
Kulderath's words are confusing to Ganiz, sounding triumphant even as he appears to be giving up.  Given poor Jegger's state, though, the innkeep doesn't have time to ponder that.  He darts to another stalagmite, drops a stone into his sling, and hurls it towards the monstrous man.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Rolls in the Discord.  Hide, move, attack for 15 damage.
 
agignac
Joan's ribs creak, and for a moment her vision goes blurry. She nearly drops, catching herself with hands on knees, struggling to focus. The water swirls red around her feet, lit by the gentle glow of her hammer. Jegger's blood. Jegger is dying. She can save him, but only if she acts fast.  Time to finish this. 

Pushing herself upright, Joan catches a glimpse of Ganiz. The man, unnaturally stealthy, slips behind a pillar.  Help him, distract him."  Her thoughts were a jumble, blurred by pain and anger and fear.

As the insane demon straightened his broken body for one more swing, Joan forced herself to mirror him. Stepping so that he was forced to turn and face her (putting his back to the adventurer-turned-inkeep-turned-adventurer), Joan forces a smile onto her face. Striking her shield with her hammer, she says,   "Come then, and feel the wrath of heaven."  

The paladin raises her weapon in a stupid, showy, overhand grip. It leaves her flank wide open, and the demon takes the bait. If he strikes her, he'll crush her rib cage and the organs it protects. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a stone fly.
Awful
Kulderath grins wider as he sees Joan take a challenging position. With a rumble of laughter, he trudges forward, bringing back the great slabsword-

And Ganiz hurls a stone from his sling.

Even as the demihuman takes an unsteady step forward, the stone hurtles forth to strike him clean in the mask. The creature stops. His head sways back.

Slowly, the mask falls from his face in pieces. His face is almost human, sharply-boned and a aquiline nose, except from the fanged grin and the red-on-black of his eyes. Only the golden stud in his forehead remains. Very slowly, his head turns to look at Ganiz.
 
"Heh heh... we'll... meet again..." 

His grip slips on the greatsword, and it falls to the cavern floor with a defeaning crash. With a exhaled breath, the giant man falls sideways in a spray of subterreanian water. The lights of his eyes fade slowly and are gone.

Victory is yours.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Combat over!

Well done; it wasn't an easy fight.With that, the first of the groups of demons are destroyed.

 Everyone gains a level.
 
 
 
 
agignac
      
 

Joan barely spared a glance at the demon as he fell. She was already dropping her hammer and her shield, and dropping to her knees beside Jegger.

His body was a ruin - the blunt slabsword having crushed many bones, and she could only assume, internal organs. His eyes were closed, his breath a quiet rasp, barely there.

Joan lifted his head and scooched herself closer so his head was on her marginally-more-comfortable-than-the-stone-floor lap. Placing her fingertips on his temples, she closed her eyes and concentrated on that spark of life within her. This was something that came from herself, not her father, and it was slow to respond. " Come back, strongheart, " she whispered, " wake up. We need you with us. " 
 
  
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  5/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging:  
 Reckless:  
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 
 That doesn't make any sense,  Jegger whines, looking up at Gendo's tall figure, squinting as the man was backlit by the noon sun.

  Jegger, pay attention. Where is the force in the strike?   Gendo holds the training stick out. Jegger points to the tip, the part closest to him.   That's right boy. And if you flinch away, or turn to run, what happens?  
 You hit me with it,  Jegger says, rubbing the bump on his head.

  Right again, I think these lessons might be sinking in!   Gendo grins, but when Jegger doesn't return the smile, he continues,   Ok, now what happens if you come toward me? Come on, get up boy. This time come toward me.  

Jegger stands up, a look of apprehension on his face. Gendo frowns,   Jegger, do you trust me?  
 ... yes Gendo. 
  Then trust me. When I swing at you, come at me. Don't run, come right at me.   Jegger nods and gets into his ready stance. Gendo swings the stick, and Jegger snaps forward, one leg between Gendo's legs to leverage a throw, and Gendo's shirt in Jegger's tiny fists, to propel the man to the ground. Jegger looks up to see a satisfied look on Gendo's face looking down,   Where is the tip of the stick Jegger?  

The boy cranes his neck to see it behind him, where Gendo's strike is frozen in the air.   Now if I want to hit you, I have to swing the stick this way, not the same force right?   He bops the boy a few times. Jegger nods,  No, it's not a good attack position. 

They both relax.   That's right Jegger. Sometimes trying to get away from the danger puts you in more danger. Runnin' from an archer is no good for you. Backin' away from a club or a sword strike might put you right in the path of the sword point. But if you get in, you're inside the danger. It can't get you. YOU become the danger.  
 How do I know when to move in and when to back away? 
  That comes with time boy, and experience. What's important right now is that you know it's an option, that you break free from your normal instincts. You're not some kid who's going to run at first sight of danger Jegger, you're going to be a great warrior. So you have to think like one. You have to know all the options open to you in a fight, because your enemies will be strong, and wily, and sinister.  

Jegger sits for a time,  I hope I get to be as good as you when I'm big Gendo. 
  Ain't many heroes unlucky enough to get old, boy.  
 What?  Jegger turns to regard Gendo but the man is now wearing a mask, with a massive sword resting on his shoulder,   ... Gendo?  
  FEEL THE WRATH OF HEAVEN BOY!  

Jegger is nearly rent in two. He tries to hold the wound but his torso isn't there. He screams but there is water everywhere and he's drowning. He tells his arms to swim up but his body can't move.

 We'll... meet again... 

Everything is cold, and dark. The only thing outside of him is a faint and distant commotion, and then...

 Come back strongheart... 

A light in the dark, he wants to go to it...

 Wake up. We need you with us. 

---------------------------------------------------

   Gendo!   

Jegger's eyes open, and the vision of an angel silhouetted before a halo coalesces into Joan, applying her healing hands to Jegger's wounds.   Joan?   He groans, a wave of pain moving through his body, limbs, and head. He looks to see Kulderath slumped on the floor,   You guys did it.   He manages to smile through his injuries,   I knew you'd win the day.   He slowly struggles to his feat,   How is everyone?   he asks, looking the party over.
 
 
  
agignac
Joan sagged with relief as Jegger groaned and began to wake up. She  chuckled at his humility, which turned into a groan of her own as the laugh hurt her bruised (and likely cracked) ribs.

  "I think we can all take credit for this one,"   she said, pulling her healing potion from her backpack.   "Here, drink this. A badly stubbed toe will put you down again, and I am drained."  

She turned to the others.   "Ganiz? Rathoran? How do you fare?"  

Joan pushed herself to her feet, and hobbled over to the demon's downed form.   "How "undying" do you think he is?"   She looked at her warhammer, then dropped it, and asked to borrow the axe.   "Perhaps this will make it harder for him to come back,"   she says, and she begins to hew at his neck.
The Hellbug
Ganiz loads another stone into his sling and waits for Kulderath to stir again when the huge warrior falls, but his caution proves to be unfounded.  Though there is a finality to the way he had crashed to the ground, Kulderath's final words echo in once in Ganiz's mind.

 "We'll...meet again..." 

The innkeep is slower to Jegger than Joan, but he quickly jogs, splashing through the cold water, to his side, just in time to watch Joan's healing miracle in silent awe.  No less astounding, though, is that the warrior of the Fool still lives.  Ganiz starts to offer a hand but, noting Jegger's condition, instead bends down to get a hold under his shoulder, nodding for Joan or Rathoran to do the same on the other side to help get the big man to his feet.    "Better than both of you,"   he answers to both Jegger and Joan,   "I'll make it back to the surface alright, long as we don't run into the other side of the vise Kulderath was waiting for."    Watching, Joan move to their foe's corpse, he thinks for a moment before continuing, eventually directing a question at Jegger.    "We surprised him.  I'd bet we have some time but not much.  Can you walk?"  
Kushina43
 
 Originally Posted by agignac 
   "Ganiz? Rathoran? How do you fare?"   
 

Rathoran stands from cover to see the demon collapsed, and starts rushing over to Joan and Jegger.  But with the fight over, Rathoran's anger quickly dissipates, and with it her bravado, falling to one knee again before regarding the rest of the party.   "I'll admit, I've.. seen better days.  But I can take care of myself just fine.  You, on the other hand.."   she stops, stumbling over her words as she makes her way to Joan while fishing the healing potion from her bag.   "Er, no, wrong choice of words.  What I'm trying to say is, you need this just as much as he does." 

Once she takes it, Rathoran has another idea and pulls out something else from her component pouch.  She mutters a few words and within her hand sprouts ten large berries, five orange and five bright red.   "Got some magical berries here for a bit more kick, too.  They're no potion, but it'll perk you up and give you a day's energy."   She says that and tosses one of the red berries into her mouth, nodding in approval and gaining the energy to stand, then holds that hand out for everyone else to take what they need of the remaining nine.   "Ah, and in case of your preferences, the red ones are sour and the orange sweet.  They always somehow taste like the edible wild berries I've found in parts of the desert." 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  19/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging:  
 Reckless:  
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Jegger winces as Ganiz helps him to his feet,   I can walk. Maybe run even, if we have to.   He watches Joan go over and take to Kulderath's neck with the axe,   Good idea,   he mumbles.

  Thanks Rathoran,   he says as he takes a handful of berries from her. They're a mix of sweet and sour, and he feels a little rejuvenated by them,   Wow, those hit the spot!  

The water has been tainted by the dredges and Kulderath's blood, as well as some of their own. Jegger looks for anywhere that water might be spilling down and will take some long pulls if he finds a place. At first he shivers from his soaking wet clothes, but the power in the berries helps him warm up a bit.

  Ganiz, do you think his friends are coming from somewhere else in the cave? Or from the same way we came in?  
 
 
  
Awful
Borrowing the axe, Joan takes to hacking at the dead demi-human's neck. Once, twice, thrice, and finally with the supernatural sharpness of Timon's Axe the head comes free from the trunk. It's heavy in her hands, the expression still a sharkstooth grin.

Searching around, Jegger drags his still-aching body to where rivulets of water run down the rock. It's teeth-tinglingly cold, and faintly earthy tasting from the minerals it's flowed through, but it's not got a bunch of corpses in it - which is generally considered a important aspect of sourcing water.
The Hellbug
Ganiz takes one of the berries with a nod, not wishing to deprive any of his more injured companions.  Concerned that his words might be more bravado than his true condition, the innkeep observes Jegger with slightly-suspicious eyes as he finds his feet.  When he feels the berry's miraculous rejuvenation himself, though, Ganiz nods and turns his attention to other things.    "Nowhere else in the cave to come from except that other passage at the cultists' camp,"   he answers, carefully stepping toward one of the dead dregs and peering into the shallow water,   "and it's close enough to the entrance that it doesn't make a difference to us now; all we can do is leave before we get trapped."  

In only moments, Ganiz finds what he's looking for.  He fetches a rag from his pack and wraps it around his hand before crouching down and gingerly reaching with his thus protected hand into the water.  When he stands again with a grunt, the innkeep shows what he's picked up to the rest of the group: the nail Kulderath pulled from the dreg's chest.    "Any of you know what this is?   he asks,   "these...whatever they were: they look like some of yours, Rathoran, but I don't think they were people anymore."  
agignac
Joan stares at the head, gratified that it had come off. She wasn't sure it would.   "Perhaps Infinite Mercy and its followers will know what to do with this."   She wraps her gruesome prize in the demons own cloak, then knots it.

She washes her hands thoroughly in the icy water running down the walls, then removes her helmet and washes her face, scrubbing at her short, sweaty hair with the mineral water. Finally, she slakes her thirst, then shivers.   It'll be hot enough once we're out of here.  

Taking one of Rathoran's mystical berries, she pops it into her mouth and slowly crunches it. The sweetness floods her mouth and she finds herself smiling as she swallows it.

As Ganiz retrieves the nail, Joan nods in appreciation - she hadn't thought to examine it. Looking at it, she searched her memory for any knowledge of this sort of ritual.

 (1d20-1)[ 10 ] 
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  20/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging:  
 Reckless:  
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Jegger takes one more berry from Rathoran,   These are good!  

Seemingly rejuvenated by the berries, Jegger is ready to move on.   Let's head back to their campsite and see which way we should go next.  
 
 
  
Awful
To a sort of vaguely guilty relief, Rathoran can see that the poor dregs lying dead in the cave aren't from her tribe, by the style of the robe and the patterns of the cloth. That being said... She does recognise the patterns; these people were not too far distant from her own.

The nail in Joan's hand is still soiled with tendrils of gore. Looking at it closer, the whole thing - a fat, square-sided thing, narrowing to a surprisingly blunted point - is engraved with thin, neat lines, in a pattern that clearly is a deliberate design. There's not a speck of rust on it, in contrast to the battered and decayed armour the dregs inside and the cultics outside were clad in.

A brief check on another of the dregs reveals a nail in him, too, sunk into the flesh of his chest. At its location, it would surely reach the heart.

This, presumably, is a titular nail of the iron nail warriors mentioned before. Were these wretched souls an attempt to remake whatever the iron nail warriors were, or simply a method of controlling the unwilling?

Joan doesn't know.
agignac
Joan collects the other nails, wraps them up in a bit of cloth, and tucks them carefully away. If nothing else, they wouldn't be used again on the innocent.

Nails and head in hand, she nods to the others and says,   "Let's leave this forlorn cave."  
The Hellbug
Ganiz happily relinquishes the nails to the angel-touched warrior.    "Exactly my thought,"   The innkeep agrees.  He crouches to rinse his hands in the cold water and makes sure the straps on the lightning projector are still well-adjusted as he stands back up.    "I remember the way.  Let's go."  
Kushina43
 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "these...whatever they were: they look like some of yours, Rathoran, but I don't think they were people anymore."   
 

Seeing her compatriots take the berries they wish, and Jegger going to find fresher water, she watches the severing of Kuld's head.  That it takes three or four slices from her is impressive, but the head's grin is unnerving enough to turn her away to Ganiz, when he shows the nail and asks about the dregs. She inspects it but shakes her head, unfamiliar.   "I've no knowledge on this kind of thing, aside from what I've picked up watching them.  But yes, those thralls were definitely of the desert tribes just like the corpses we found earlier." 

A closer look at their garb, less blinded by fury for having defeated Kulderath, reveals the full answer to her just before relaying.
  "They were close - not my tribe, and no one so far I'm personally close to, but one we traded and conversed with somewhat regularly.  Good people, none of which deserved this fate.  And, yes, I surmised as much - if they weren't dead before being turned into these.. thralls, then they effectively were once it took hold, only their vestiges fought against the control."   With everyone preparing to leave, having eaten her berries and collected the nails, Ganiz offers to get them back through the cave system.  Rathoran steps next to him and, putting back up her more casual guise, adds  "Alright, I'll help us out of here, too, I'm pretty good at the geography thing.  With the two of us working together, retracing our steps outta here will be a cinch, and we can continue onward to the next nest.  Preferably we can afford some rest before tackling it - I don't know about you, but even cleared of enemies and naturally protective as a cave can be, I'm not exactly.. comfortable staying put." 
Awful
Somewhat achingly, the group make their way out of the cave, conscious of potential foes even now approaching to cut them off.

They leave the dead behind them, to the dark and the dripping water and step back into the bewildering tunnels - this time without a ghostly guide. Between Rathoran and Ganiz, however, the battered four make their way out. The air in the tunnels seems different, somehow. A taste of grief and anger, noticeable only in absence, has disappated from where it lingered in the stones before.

After an untellable period of time, they come out to a sun low in the sky. The air is warm and dry, smelling like dust and, after hours in the sun, the pungentcy of corpses left in the heat. The servitor cat is sitting, two clay jars next to it, staring stock still into the mouth of the cave as you come out. It appears almost as a sculpture, dusky-furred, and only when you approach does it move. The servitor angles its head, unhinges its jaw like a snake, and swallows the jars one at a time.

Rathoran, particularly, is somewhat reminded of a snake swallowing eggs - and as if summoned by the thought, her own snake descends to coil itself around her, a piece of tattered parchment wrapped in its coils.

The pottery disappears down the not-cat's gullet, the throat of the creature distending horribly, and it turns to look at you no worse the wear for its meal.

  "Be aware more demons approaching approximate ten minutes until arrival at current pace do you intend to fight."   it says, voice high-pitched and unchanging in tone. It stares at you, waiting for your answer.

If you wanted to leave, there's back down the valley as you came, or you could ascend the walls of the gulley here and head off across the hills.
agignac
Joan took a deep breath of the dry desert air, glad to be out of the coolness of the cave and into a more natural environment. Her pleasure quickly vanished as she took note of the servitor, and the clay pots that had materialized in front of him. Before she could express her wonder, it began to open its mouth.

Joan felt her gorge rise as the not-cat began to consume the jar, and she had to turn away. Even the sounds were not pleasant. However, this could be a solution to a problem.   "Rathoran, let me get that other clay pot out of your bag. It seems like we don't have to take it with us after all."  

When the cat gave its dire warning, Joan choked out a laugh that was almost a sob.   "I don't have any more fight left in me. If we withdraw to nurse our wounds, will you be able to find the demons on the morrow?"   she asked their guide.
Awful
  "Assuming no countermeasures are deployed locating demons on the next day can be considered a task with probable chance of success,"   it intones. Its tail flicks, once.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  20/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging:  
 Reckless:  
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Jegger says to the cat servitor,   Do you know Kulderath the Undying? What was he?  
 
 
  
The Hellbug
Ganiz shields his eyes from the sun with his hand and wrinkles his nose at the smell of the dead cultists when the party reemerges from the cave.  However, despite it not being a particularly welcome greeting, he's relieved to leave the cultists' subterranean lair behind him.  Mercy's servitor, however, immediately gives reason for his anxiety to return, and not just from the disturbing display that has Ganiz grimacing in disgust and trying his best not to focus on it.  How had he ever thought that thing was a cat?

  "We can talk on the road,"   Ganiz, in an impatient-fatherly-way, cuts in, though a close observer can see how his eyes cravingly linger for a mere moment on the parchment Tira carries.  The innkeep sizes up the ravine's edges, bites his tongue as he glances at Jegger and his wounds, and hops into action. He slides free of the lightning projector's straps, depositing it on the canyon floor with a grunt of relief, and strides towards the steep incline.    "It's into the hills with us, then,"   he says, flexing his fingers and placing them on his first hand-holds,   "with any luck their trap will miss us entirely."  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Time to climb.  I think Jegger's actually better at this, but he was beaten to a pulp recently so Ganiz is stepping up.

Athletics:  (1d20+7)[ 9 ] 
 
Awful
  "This servitor has encountered thirty-seven entities utilising moniker 'Kulderath' or similar since creation specify entity,"   the cat responds flatly. It stares at Jegger coolly,    "Alternatively express preference for this servitor to go through sequentially for more accurate provision of information."
  

Meanwhile, Ganiz tackles the gulley walls. The craggy rocks are treacherous, and he finds the twenty feet slow going as he's forced to test each tiny outcropping to support his weight, the blackened rocks sharp and slicing fine red lines into his fingers. By the time he's reaching the top, he's sweating with exertion - and as he grips onto a jagged outcropping, his hand slips. It slides along the stone and pain blossoms in his palm, sliced open like he'd dragged it along a razor. His flinch knocks loose rocks away from the cliff face, leaving paler scars in the windblasted surface.

Snatching his hand away, he nearly loses his grip with the other, and when he finally drags himself over the top he's scuffed and his hands bleed from a dozen cuts and slices, almost as tired as having fought a battle - and he should know, with his recent experience.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Ganiz takes 1d4 slicing damage, but he's also marked the cliff where he climbed up, perhaps making it easier for does to find the trail.
 
The Hellbug
  You're too old for this, Ganiz.  

The innkeep winces at his injured hands as he pushes himself to his knees, then his feet, having finally scaled the gulley.

  Just a little longer, one foot in front of the other.  

He's clearly out of breath when he crouches, turns back down to the others, and extends his hand.    "One of you toss me a rope,"   he asks of them, quickly looking around for something to tie it to,   "doable, but not easy.  No time to waste."  
agignac
Joan heaves her rope up the cliff after Ganiz, hoping that he can find something to tie it to her. Every muscle hurts, and her ribs creak with every breath. Hopefully they can avoid having to free-climb in a hurry. Still, better to cut her hands up than have yet another fight on their hands.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  20/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging:  
 Reckless:  
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Jegger turns away from the servitor, annoyed,   That's fine, no need.   He keeps a vigilant eye out for any signs of attacks. Even if the servitor can't lie, all it said was demons are ten minutes away. With axe and shield ready, Jegger stands by as Ganiz works to secure a rope for them.
 
 
  
The Hellbug
Ganiz catches Joan's coiled rope and wastes no time wrapping and tying it around a rock of suitable size to support even Joan and Jegger.  The wounds on his hands sting as he tests his weight against the knot, and he grits his teeth, but the rope holds.  Satisfied, the innkeep tosses the rope back down to his waiting companions and beckons for them to follow his path.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  20/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging:  
 Reckless:  
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Jegger steadies the rope and prepares to assist the others to climb up, waiting to go last. Keeping his eyes alert, he asks the servitor,   Anything other than demons approaching?  
 
 
  
Awful
The party begins hauling themselves up the rope, doing their best not to scrape themselves further against the sharp rock face.

  "This servitor's senses are incapable of detecting the weaker presence of humans at this distance however it is considered likely by this servitor that additional forces will be deployed alongside demonic forces,"   the cat tells Jegger in its awkward intonation.   "Detected enemy forces have increased speed new estimated time of arrival is approximately five minutes this servitor offers to depart to prevent detection of starblood by demonic entities halfbreed starblood insufficient to foster longer range detection."   
agignac
Five minutes? Joan hustled - they needed to get up and out of sight!   "Hurry, hurry!"   To the servitor, she said,   "Yes, off you go! We'll see you tomorrow."  

As soon as the last of them were up, she pulled up the rope, and peeked down the cliff.

 
 Spoiler 
Any sight of anybody yet? Is it safer to duck down and hide, or run? perception  (1d20+4)[ 19 ] 
 
The Hellbug
Ganiz offers a bloody but helpful hand to help pull each of his companions up as they reach the top.  When Jegger is the last one on the canyon floor, though, the innkeep calls out to him to wait.    "Don't forget the lightning projector,"   he warns,   "tie the end of the rope through the straps and we can haul it up after."    Though its useless to him at the moment, the weapon is powered by sorcery, and Ganiz doesn't want to bet against Glint and being able to use it against the demon slayers.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  20/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging:  
 Reckless:  
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Jegger ties the contraption to the end of the rope, then pulls his way up,   I wonder what caused them to pick up the pace,   he pants. Once everything is secured, he takes off with the others.
 
 
  
Awful
With effort, the group gathers at the top of the gulley, projector safely with them.

At Joan's words, the cat nods and runs, smoothly bounding across the rocky soil with easy, rolling speed, until it disappears out of sight behind some boulders. For the moment, the four are alone - well, at least, they think so.

Nothing has yet emerged from the gulley, but the tight turns that funneled the party towards the cave had also let them approach very close before the defenders knew about them and sallied forth. It seems pretty likely that the same will happen here; if you can see them, they'll be close enough to see you.

Similarly, Joan thinks, the nature of the gulley means that there's a limited number of ways for the party to have escaped the jaws of the trap closing in. If they stay around, they'd be betting on the enemy not deciding to search the top of the ridges, which doesn't seem a very sure bet.

Of course, it'd be a good defensive position, if they really wanted to make a go of it and turning the ambush against the demonic cultics - even if the four companions are battered to hell and back.
agignac
Hunched over, Joan catches her breath, then saya,   "Let's take our feline servitor's example, and make trails. I don't think I have another fight in me, not yet, even with high ground."  

Barring argument, Joan ushers the others on ahead, taking up a rearguard position.
Dr.Samurai
      
      Jegger     
 Human Barbarian 
 AC: 20 HP:  20/55  
 PP: 12 PIv: 9 PIs: 12 
 Conditions: -- 
 Raging:  
 Reckless:  
 Wild Surge Effect: -- 

Jegger nods at Joan's suggestion and makes haste with the others, axe and shield in hand in case the demons catch up to them.
 
 
  
The Hellbug
Ganiz falls in the with the rest of them as soon as he's hefted the lightning projector onto his back once more.  He too, is in no hurry to stick around; every step the demon slayer put between them and this place is a good one.    "Rathoran, this is your country.  Lead the way.  Anywhere but here."    The innkeep hasn't forgotten about the snake-delivered note, but it can wait for some distance.
Kushina43
Ascending the cliff face with the party, lightning projector in tow and back on Ganiz, she ruminates on their next destination.  With everyone up and enemies approaching through the gulley, the hills are the only route. Her instinct is to press on, but with Tira's arrival and the letter she brings, and given the condition of the group..


 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "Rathoran, this is your country.  Lead the way.  Anywhere but here."   
 

 "Of course,"  she answers back, urging the group onwards to the hills, hopefully out of sight   "We'll take a route through these hills - it won't the fastest path forward, so prepare yourselves for that, but one that will help us elude these pursuers should they find where we climbed.  After which, we lick our wounds before taking on the next objective."   As the group heads out away from the valley, once she believes some distance has been gained she takes the note off of Tira, who affectionately slithers into a safe spot within her clothing to rest.  She doesn't stop to read the note, at least not yet, continuing to lead the group as fast as they can through her chosen path until she deems it safe.
Awful
As the party flee from the cave, perhaps they look back. In the distance, a tall, spindly figure has unfurled, three times the height of a man, striding forward with impossibly long legs, the black smudge of its distant head bobbing like a bird. Then even it disappears from view as Rathoran leads them down the winding paths of the hills.

It's hot and dusty, which is nothing new to the party. As they get further away, the ground gets less spiky and hostile, returning to the more normal crags and sun-baked stones of the blasted hills, scrub clinging on in corners and crevices. For a while, the four hears the sounds of pursuit - the clattering of uneven footsteps, a trumpeting, outraged call from a monstrous throat; but nothing catches up to them, and the desert woman leads them to safety.

It's to a hollow in the rocks, just as the sun sinks beneath the hills, that they go to. It's a curious little place - a circular scoop out the surface of a hill as if a giant had taken a bowl and removed a portion. As the centre, as out of place as a shark in a bathtub, is a bit of masonry, a jumble of white marble lodged into the ground like a thorn at a jaunty angle. Here, the sides of the bowl would catch any firelight for outside observers.

It's here, when they have a moment to settle, Joan realises the cloak she carries is sopping wet. Inside, the head of Kulderath has begun to liquify, exposed skull spongy soft to the touch, the flesh running like half-melted wax. The teeth seem to grin at the aasimar, but, of course, it's just a head. No life sparks in the wet ruin of the eyes. Only the golden nail, set in the forehead, seems immune to the decay.

Finally, they have a chance to check the note.

It reads, mostly in the mayor's scrawl:


 
 Originally Posted by the note 
 Mercenaries very worrying but better than demons. They can be vicious as devils some of them so be careful. Speaking of strangers some desert tribespeople have come saying there is danger in the desert and looking for safety they are staying in the inn. Aldea is saying it is good business but some of them are sick and the good doctor is busy. Something was following them but it didn't come into the town and ran before it got close. 
 

Below, in different handwriting:

 Ganiz - please be careful. We didn't get a good look at the thing chasing our new guests, but what I did sure wasn't pretty. We'll be fine, but, please, be extra careful. This is getting more complicated than we expected. love, love, love. -A 
agignac
The late afternoon sun beats on Joan, and she feels like she's being cooked alive in her armour. After the chill of the cave, the sun seems especially cruel. She concentrates of following Rathoran, putting one foot in front of the other, and being grateful that they didn't have to fight the tall demon. Yet.

When Rathoran brings them to the bowl-like depression, she sinks to her knees before pulling out her waterskin and taking a few pulls of the warm water. It's then that she notices the state of her bundle.

  "Oh!"   she cries in surprise and disgust. The head is...dissolving? She leaps to her feet and leaves their campsite, not wanting to contaminate it. Several hundred feet away, she examines the remains. Even the skull was soft and spongey. Her gorge rises, and she swallows acid.   "Not fair. You don't get to dissolve and then reappear somewhere else."   However, there was clearly nothing she could do to stop it.

She finally settled on pulling the nail from the head, then covered the rest with rocks as best she could.

Returning to the campsite, Joan saw the others looking at the notes.   "What news from town?"   She idley examined looked at the white marble, wondering what it had once been.
The Hellbug
After the gear's been laid down, Ganiz steps on up to the ridge to get one last cautious look at the shadowed countryside around the camp.  He sees nothing, not one sign of their pursuers.  Thus satisfied, he ambles back down into the basin in no hurry, passing Joan on her way to get rid of Kulderath's head but not catching her purpose.    "No sign of demons; I think we're safe for now.  Well led, Rathoran,"   he reports,   "did you know about this place from before, or is it just a bit of luck?  Hrm"  --he gestures up the bowl towards where Joan has retreated--  "is she okay?"  

________

When Joan gets back, Ganiz has settled down on the ground with the already-read note held loosely in one hand.  Her question interrupts his pensive stare into the lengthening shadows.    "Mmm, some desert folk have arrived looking for shelter,"   he replies,   "chased by something.  Nobody got a good look at it.  Adela's put them up at the inn."    He holds out the note towards the angel-born warrior in case she wants to read it for herself.

The innkeep resumes his stare and is quiet for a minute before he looks back to the rest of the group.    "We should go back,"   he announces suddenly.
Dr.Samurai
Jegger perks up at Ganiz's sudden suggestion.   I didn't get the sense from those mercenaries that we can just choose to... not hunt demons.   He looks at the letter as it is offered to Joan,   Does it say they were actually chased? Gendo and I thought something was watching us on the way to New Zarian. It was spooky at times. But we never did see anything.  
agignac
 
 Originally Posted by Dr.Samurai 
 Jegger perks up at Ganiz's sudden suggestion.   I didn't get the sense from those mercenaries that we can just choose to... not hunt demons.   He looks at the letter as it is offered to Joan,   Does it say they were actually chased? Gendo and I thought something was watching us on the way to New Zarian. It was spooky at times. But we never did see anything.   
 

Joan nodded her agreement.   "I remember that."   It seemed so long ago, but it was only a few days past. Looking at Ganiz, she said,   "I know you are afraid for your family, but I believe we can do more out here to keep them safe. Keep the demons away from town, stop the cultists from raising more."   She paused, then added,  " Also, we took the mercenaries' magical items in exchange for hunting demons. I think they'd object to us taking them with us. " 
The Hellbug
  "Doesn't say,"   Ganiz says as answer to Jegger's question,   "but Adela says she saw something and that even if it wasn't a good look, it was bad news."  
  "And yes,"   he turns his attention on Joan,   "of course I'm afraid for my family.  Maybe that Proxy's right.  Maybe they're still..."  

He stops suddenly, as the word 'safe' seems inappropriate.  When the innkeep continues, he sounds more anxious, and it's clear that he's winding himself up.    "Maybe they won't be hurt as long as the mercenaries still stand.  But what about when the cultists know for sure they're not just fighting the Crossguard Company.  That Glint's already seen us and knows some of what we've done.  What happens then?"  
Dr.Samurai
Ganiz stops suddenly, as the word 'safe' seems inappropriate. When the innkeep continues, he sounds more anxious, and it's clear that he's winding himself up.   "Maybe they won't be hurt as long as the mercenaries still stand. But what about when the cultists know for sure they're not just fighting the Crossguard Company. That Glint's already seen us and knows some of what we've done. What happens then?"  

Jegger looks as if he's about to say something, but then stops. The thought of old Gendo standing on his shaky legs between the townsfolk and some demonic monstrosity plays on his mind. He lets out a breath,   The mercenaries are under the Second Proxy's control, and he answers to Mercy.   Jegger looks down at the sigil on his wrist,   And our pact is with Mercy. And we agreed to root out the demons and their cultists. Sounds like maybe there's a demon lurking around New Zarian...  
agignac
Joan tries to avoid looking at the sigil on her own wrist, and fails to do so.   "Perhaps we can speak to the servitor about this in the morning? We are in no condition to travel tonight. It is possible that the cat can give us more information."   She hoped that her companions' sense of urgency would fade during the night, though she had to admit it was unlikely. They had work to do here, and it was vital to the town, and all towns in the area, that the do it.
The Hellbug
Ganiz nods.    "We can do that,"   he agrees, recognizing that she wants this conversation to end.  There will be more time for it later.  The innkeep gestures out towards where Joan had disposed of the head.    "You okay?"  
agignac
 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
 Ganiz nods.    "We can do that,"   he agrees, recognizing that she wants this conversation to end.  There will be more time for it later.  The innkeep gestures out towards where Joan had disposed of the head.    "You okay?"   
 


Joan looked up, only just realizing that she acted with such haste that the others hadn't seen what she'd seen.   "The undying head - it started to...melt? I had hoped to separate from the body, in case his threat to come back was true. But it is not to be. I buried what's left of it. I think by morning, this will be all that's left."   She took the nail and showed it to the others.

  "Another reason to stay here and keep fighting. If the cult manages to raise him again, we will need to fight him again. I didn't enjoy it enough to want to do it twice."  
The Hellbug
Ganiz leans forward to look at the nail in the paladin's hand and frowns.    "I won't say that's impossible,"   Ganiz answers cynically,   "that wasn't the look of a man who was dying.  I'll tell you this for certain: he knew he was coming back.  Whether or not he's right is, well, we don't know exactly how uncanny he was."  
  "Don't think he was a demon, though, not like the others we've seen.  Something...different...about him.  Mad but not the same."    The innkeep points at the nail but comes no closer to touching it.    "This probably has something to do with it, though.  Like the nails in those dead folks."  
Dr.Samurai
Jegger speaks aloud, but it doesn't seem he's really speaking to any in the group,   His bladework was better than anything I've seen before. Even when I fought defensively, he found a way past my shield and armor. Next time... no caution. It's the only way.  
agignac
Joan couldn't stop a snort of disbelieving laughter.   "Next time? Let us avoid that altogether. If we can stop the cult fanatics from their work, perhaps we can leave the undying in the ground."  

She looked at the nail again.   "I wonder if this nail in particular is important to the process, or if it is symbolic. Tomorrow I will attempt to discern any magic placed upon it."  

Turning her attention back to the strange depression and the stone inside it, she asked,   "Does anybody have an idea about what this may be? It seems to regular to be natural."  
The Hellbug
Ganiz nods along, agreeing with Joan about Jegger's assessment of their foe and with her investigation of the nail, whatever that entails.    "Don't know,"   Ganiz replies concerning the hollow the demon slayers find themselves in,   "I haven't been this far from home since Chloe was born, and I can't say anyone else from New Zarian has either, at least in this direction.  Nothing but desert for, well, a lot longer than anyone has any business going.  It's old, though.  Must be at least from the time of the King."  

As the group settles down, Ganiz takes a seat near the ridge and leans back against his pack, volunteering to take the first watch.
Awful
The white rock artifice sits at the centre of the strange hollow. Inspecting it, it seems to be a sort of white marble, veined with dull blue streaks - the sort of thing that would be used for palaces and temples, and other places of high import. The King mandated all the lynchpins of his reign to be made from the same stone, as examples of his wealth and power.

How it got out here is a mystery - this was certainly no valuable administrative centre to justify to effort to ship it out here, far from any source, and there's no other nearby bits to explain what it might have been.

The nail in Joan's hand gleams the lustre of gold, unstained by gore or the presumable brain matter it had been embedded in. Tiny engravings, almost too small for the eye to see, give it's surface a rough texture.

The four bed down for the night and an uneasy sleep. Only the occasional chirp of am insect breaks the silence, the shadow-shapes of bats flickering across the clear night sky. This far from civilisation, the distant stars are on full display, cold and watchful.

Though they keep watch, nothing comes across them in the night, and the sun treads over the horizon with weary step. With it comes the servitor-cat, padding into the hollow with a silent gait.

It waits while the party prepares for the day, eyeing them silently as it lies curled up on a stone, looking for all the world like an ordinary creature.
agignac
Joan awoke to darkness, though the horizon was beginning to lighten. As Joan watched the stars fade overhead, she was reminded of the Infinite Mercy of the Ruinous Cosmos, and the night sky contained in its hair. In a bid to rid herself of the vision, she closed her eyes, but there the devil remained. Shivering, Joan rolled herself up to her knees, faced the sunrise, and began to meditate and pray.

At least, that was her intent. The devil's mark on her arm seemed to burn in the early morning light, and she felt a shudder of revulsion run through her.

Her whole life, she had considered her purpose to be holy, heaven-mandates. The blood of angels ran through her veins. This didn't make her special, but it gave her purpose. Joan spoke to her father daily; she prayed to him. They had never met, and she had never heard his voice, but his presence was never in doubt - it wasn't even a matter of faith, but a matter of fact. His boons allowed her to do what she did, to smite the unholy, to heal the hurt.

And yet....

The devil was the one who had helped them. Who had given them weapons and guidance, who provided the guide.  Who offered to speak of my father, and my place in this world.  She didn't know what to make of that.

The prayer wouldn't come, and with her troubled mind, Joan knew it wouldn't. She turned her mind to the holy magics she could wield. Every day she prayed for the boons of her father, and for long years, she prayed for the same ones every morning. But today was different. Yesterday she had revealed her true nature to her companions, and they had accepted her. The four of them had made a pact together, and were hunting demons together. They needed to work together, as a team. And that meant altering her plans somewhat. It meant boons to help her friends, not just to harm her enemies.

When she felt ready, Joan rose stiffly to her feet. She ached all over - yesterday's near-fatal battle lingered in her bones and muscles. She began to move through some of the calisthenics she'd learned during her training.  Was that really seventy years ago?  Was she truly almost ninety years old? She wondered at her ability to ignore time for so long. Had she been in denial? And would her age now "catch up to her"? She truly hoped not.

Finally, feeling a bit more limber and less achy, she joined the others in clearing up their campsite in the strange bowl-like depression. Seeing the servitor, she asked,   "Do you know what caused this?"   she gestured around them.   "It seems very out-of-place."  

While she was talking to the cat, she thought of a few more questions.   "Yesterday, The Infinite Mercy of the Ruinous Cosmos told us that a primeval demon was below, in the mines. I don't suppose that was the creature we felled yesterday? Do you know any more information about it, or where to find it? Or how to get to the mines where the shard lays?"  
The Hellbug
Ganiz is up with the dawn and is silent as he offers to break off a piece of hard bread from a loaf in his pack for each of his companions, breakfast.  He hurts all over from yesterday's injuries and exertion--nothing seems to be broken but there are lacerations to re-bandage and the clobbering he received from the many-handed demon at the very least bruised his ribs badly.

As the cat regards the group, Ganiz sits and regards the lightning projector.  Surely, it's a fearsome weapon, one they could let their enemies have any chance of capturing, but without any more elemental vials, it's just dead weight.  A detour to the Crossguard camp might be useful--perhaps the demon slayers' success yesterday would be enough to permit them additional ammunition--but would certainly make it harder for them to return to New Zarian.  New supplies would warrant new results.  The thought of the desert tribespeople, their corpses thralls to cultists, flashes through his head again, though his imagination transplants them to Adela's inn and there are already visitors there and...

The innkeep shakes his head to try to free it of the thought, mostly successfully.  He's just considering the possibility of burying the projector here to be recovered later when Joan poses her questions to the servitor-cat, which he listens to with curiosity.
Awful
The cat regards Joan for a moment, then speaks in its fluting, strange little voice.
  "Answers unknown to this servitor. Wait for communication."  
It freezes, stock-still, and then relaxes. It blinks slowly, and when it opens its eyes again they are a deep molten gold, looking between you with casual confidence. When it talks next, its mouth doesn't move; the air thrums with a familiar power.
    "You've been busy,"     purrs The Infinite Mercy of the Ruinous Cosmos through the cat.     "The servitor tells me you've defeated two groups already. You've exceeded my expectations."    

The cat turns to look at Joan.
    "As for your questions, Joan Brighton, allow me to offer a few answers. I feel confident, firstly, that you did not encounter a primeval demon, as you are alive. I am a devil of the third spoke; after the death of God, I defeated primeval demons in single combat three times and was defeated twice, once requiring salvage and reconstitituion."     It flicks its tail idly.     "This Kulderath creature is interesting. I do have some suppositions. I suspect it is a left-over work of the King. Perhaps one of his studies into the secrets of life and death, and their intersections with demonhood - for demons are neither dead or alive, but nonetheless feed on existence. It might be an ouroboric creature - a chimera of demon and mortal. The demon component is fueled by the mortal component; the demonic elements provides sufficient to render the creature deathless. It most likely reformed from the largest mass. A difficult thing for mortals to deal with."    
    "Do recall,"     it adds dryly,     "Neither the servitor nor I have been close to this Kulderath, so this is a estimation based on your surface thoughts, the name and the nail you possess."    

It begins prowling forward, inspecting the stone at the centre of the strange little bowl scooped from the hill. The voice of the devil continues speaking in your heads, unmuffled by distance.
 
   "The entrance to the mines is at Old Zarian, underneath the camp of the Crossguard. The primeval demon lies in the tunnels below, with the shard. "    

It circles the fragment of marble construction, tail bobbing, and then pushes forward a paw as if forcing a path through water to touch the stone. There's a faint smell of ozone, and the devil looks down at the paw of the servitor-cat.

    "Hmm. Joan,"     it says,     "Touch the stone. Describe what you feel."    
The Hellbug
  "Two groups?"   Ganiz interjects when there's a moment of silence.  He'd been thinking all of them, since they were in the same cave, were together.  The cave looked lived-in, though, so maybe Kulderath and his puppets were from elsewhere.    "How many more does that make it?"  
agignac
 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "Two groups?"   Ganiz interjects when there's a moment of silence.  He'd been thinking all of them, since they were in the same cave, were together.  The cave looked lived-in, though, so maybe Kulderath and his puppets were from elsewhere.    "How many more does that make it?"   
 

Joan looked up in surprise also.   "How do you know they weren't one group?"   she asked.   "One of the magic-wielding humans called down the cave for back-up. We assumed Kulderath was with him."  

 "  Hmm. Joan,  " it says, " Touch the stone. Describe what you feel ." 

Joan had been ruminating on the fact that the devil basically admitted it had sent them on a suicide mission. She was half-way to the stone before she realized she was about to take orders from the devil without question. Had it been less than 24 hours that she'd known of Infinite Mercy of the Ruinous Cosmos? Her first instinct had been to start a fight with it, probably killing herself in the process. And now she was about to touch a stone to satisfy its curiosity.

She didn't have the fortitude to argue or question, however. Instead, she moved forward, and touched the marble stonework.
Dr.Samurai
Jegger's sleep was fitful. Dreams, or nightmares, of New Zarian being overrun by demons and cultists plagued him through the night. He wakes up with the sun, his body sore and aching. He nods at the others and takes a warm pull from his waterskin.   That was not my best sleep ever,   he muses, working a kink out of his neck and shoulder.

The servitor is there, and Joan and Ganiz start asking it questions. Within a moment, the voice of Mercy is speaking through the cat. Jegger is looking away from the group, but listening intently. When there is an opportunity, he speaks up,   There's been a change in circumstances. It's no longer good enough to go after the primeval demon. It will protect New Zarian in the long term, but it sounds like monsters are prowling around there now. We received message that something is stalking the desert around New Zarian and hunting people there. We need to know that New Zarian is safe now, while we secure it's safety in the future. I know Mordere said he can't afford to garrison men there, so what can you offer?  

He turns his gaze to look at the servitor's pupiless orbs of molten gold, hoping he sounds smart, and determined.
Awful
    "My servitors, while indistinct at these distances, read three groups at the beginning of yesterday, not counting the primaeval demon below. Now they can only sense one. Perhaps they'd combined forces in anticipation of your arrival."    
The devil in the cat prowled back to their previous position, sitting on their haunches.

    "There seems to be two main groups among our local foes. Revanchist forces - the humans you killed yesterday would be among those. They mostly want to bring back the old days, when the King ruled, and by extension, they had power as his servants.

The other one is a ritualist they brought in, more studied in sorcerous arts. The Kulderath creature didn't come here with the revanchist group you fought, but the ritualist."    

Joan reaches out to touch the marble. It's cool under her fingers, worn rough by air-borne grit over however many years, but nothing otherwise seems to present itself. It's just... stone.

When Jegger speaks up, the terrible eyes of the devil turn to look at him.

    "At the moment, the primaeval demon is the largest threat to that village you're trying to protect. The best thing you can do for New Zarian is to fufill your side of the contract. The sooner the final outgroup is dealt with, the sooner Mordere can dispatch forces for New Zarian. The enemy will most likely want to preserve the lives there for their own use, anyway, so the likelihood of an all-out assault on it is low."    
agignac
Joan feels the slight grit to the stone through the callouses on her fingertips. Puzzled, she turned to the servitor/devil.   "I do not feel anything. It is simply stone."  
The Hellbug
Ganiz is silent after Infinite Mercy answers the demon slayers' questions, but he resets his priorities.  If they're as quick as yesterday, the last demons can be found and slain swiftly enough to be no further threat to New Zarian.  The Kulderath situation, though, is another story.  If that madman is as indestructible as Mercy guesses he is, he'll continue to be a threat to New Zarian long after every one of them, perhaps even Joan, is long dead.  Then there's whatever lies down below, as well, but one step at a time.
Dr.Samurai
Jegger keeps up the request,   Mercy, it doesn't take an all out assault on New Zarian to lose the people we care about. Something's out there! The whole reason we came upon you and Mordere is because a boy was killed by a demon at New Zarian.  
  Can't you...   he begins to flounder,   Can't you just... I don't know, send the cats? Can't you send the cats to scout around the town and lead whatever's there away? Then when we finish here, we can at least know where to start looking?  
Awful
The devil watches carefully as Joan presses her fingertips to the stone and the lack of anything reacting. The eyes of the devil seem to pierce her through, and the cat seems to smile, as if pleased, remaining silent for a long second.
    "Yes, that fits the information. Good,"     it says at last, the echoing mind-tone somehow picking up an edge of self-satisfaction before it turns to walk away, tail bobbing.

    "The stone itself is of scarce utility. Elements of a ward against my kind lingers in the stone; the carrion remains of a larger spellwork. Yes, I believe this is most likely a fragment of the King's palace."     Perhaps at your looks, it adds,     "It is of less import than you might think. During the final battle between the Fool and the King, great powers were unleashed. Time and space became... fragmented, somewhat, and parts of the palace ended up elsewhere. Most of it is just like this; tattered bits of architecture, scattered across the world without order or meaning."    

Interest in the marble seemingly lost, it sits back down on the blunt tooth of a rocky outcropping. When Jegger speaks up again, it considers him, expression neutral.

    "Oh, but I am bound by the Pact; I must not act without a contract."     Infinite Mercy purrs. It rises and pads a few steps closer to Jegger.     "But as for 'what I can offer' - well, there is quite a lot, should one be willing to pay. Shall we make another bargain, Jegger? Or,"     it muses, as if in thought,     "I could go to the people of New Zarian and offer them the strength to withstand their foes. Learning you've already made an agreement should help encourage them to do the same."    
Dr.Samurai
  Or it muses,   as if in thought,   I could go to the people of New Zarian and offer them the strength to withstand their foes. Learning you've already made an agreement should help encourage them to do the same.  

The verbal jockeying seems to clear Jegger's uncertainty; sparring is something that comes naturally to him.

  If you can grant humans the strength to fight demons, you would have done so already with Mordere and his company, and with us. I'm sure you can make the offer, and you can't lie. But... the devil's in the details, right?

I imagine the cost would be... very high, for something like that. Too high. You make the offer, but it's seldom accepted. Or... you own the person thereafter.  

Jegger looks away from the servitor in thought, then returns its gaze.

  I already agreed to root out the demon-callers and retrieve this artifact. What can I possibly offer you to protect the people of New Zarian?  
The Hellbug
  "Hold on, Jegger,"   Ganiz warns, holding his arm out in a mollifying gesture, as much for himself as for the barbarian--the innkeep is no more immune to the devil's wheedling than anyone else.    "If there's only one more group of demons out there, and we're already hunting them there won't be any need for that."    He leaves out the possibility of their own failure to defeat the cultists, suspecting (with a twist in his stomach) that the devil will call on its own resources and may well go to New Zarian on their own if they fail.

He turns his attention to Infinite Mercy.    "The one remaining group of demons and cultists your servitor mentioned: are they the only group of demons closer to New Zarian than we are right now?  Nothing else?  We kill them and nothing uncanny's left except down below?"  
agignac
The idea of the devil going anywhere near the people of New Zarian made Joan's skin crawl.   "Our thanks, Infinite Mercy of the Ruinous Cosmos. We will protect the town by killing that which troubles it."   Turning to the men, she said,   "Please, no more offers, no more contracts. We are in deep enough."  
Awful
The devil seems in its element, as one might expect, when the mind-voice thrums an answer to Jegger.
    "Oh, have I not already? I have granted you weapons and I have granted you information, both forms of power,"     it says,     "But so far I have not embued your flesh or souls, no.

Mordere can give me nothing. He is mine; body and soul. He has nothing to bargain and so I can offer him nothing. The men under his command... Well, suffice to say the Pact is a very long document, even for we devils, and I cannot offer to Mordere's directly-commanded troops under its rulings under these circumstances."    
    "I could restore the youth of that old man you're fond of, feel him with strength of ten, for instance. Why, I could even snarl his mind so he doesn't realise what you've done, if you'd like. A mere example: I could do otherwise. But as you say - the details. You could offer me yourself, of course, in service or soul. Unless you have some great treasure or knowledge to offer in trade, I suppose.  How much do you value the lives of the people of New Zarian? Consider that, and perhaps you'll find your answer."    

It relaxedly turns to look at Ganiz.

    "My servitors can sense one active demon group between this region and down to New Zarian. Beyond that, there is the primaeval demon in the mines. If they have managed to conceal some from our senses, well, we have seen no sign of them, so chances of that are low."    
    "The choice,"     it says to Joan mildly,    "is always theirs to make."    
Dr.Samurai
Jegger considers what Ganiz says, and the answer that Mercy provides. He tries to think back if he had mentioned Gendo in the devil's presence, or if it could somehow read his thoughts, but everything had seemed to happen so quickly since the conversation at the mercenary camp.

In the end, Ganiz' reasoning compels the young man.

Jegger is in his prime, and has been said to have the strength of 10 men. Kulderath nearly killed him, and would have if not for the others.

Even if Mercy granted Gendo that boon, it might not be enough. It probably wouldn't be enough. Ganiz and Joan were right, better to take down this last group.

  The greatest treasure I have to offer is my humanity, something far beyond the reach of even you, Mercy. We will hunt down the final group.  
agignac
Joan bit her tongue hard enough to taste blood. This devil, even speaking through the servitor, had her reeling. One moment she is touching stones because it told her to, the next minute she is wanting to kick a cat to death. Could she hurt the servitor? Now was not the time to try.

  "Thank you for your answers, "  she said politely, if stiffly, to the servitor.   "I believe we are ready to continue. Let us find this final group, and hopefully ease the danger to your friends and family,"   she continued, talking to the others.
Kushina43
Rathoran was quiet for some time the night before.  She felt the need to think on the situation, and a job well done ending in Kulderath's demise didn't make sleep come any easier.  When it did claim her, she dreamt about much the same - the deal with Mercy, the message from town, the words of Kulderath, the tribe slaughtered and made thralls to his will, and now the proximity of danger to New Zarian and its newest guests.  With the specific tribe unknown, her mind substituted her former tribesmen, under siege by demonic forces, and the group that had formed desperately coming to its aid.  The success of slaying Kulderath, however temporary that may be, was the only thing keeping this disturbing dream of defending New Zarian from becoming a nightmare of slaughter.  A nuzzle on her shoulder from Tira, both in the dream and for real in her sleep, grounded her enough to drift off to what remained of restful slumber.

Rathoran wakes seconds before sunrise.  She's sluggish at first, her wavy black hair left uncharacteristically free from her usual headwear, but seeing everyone up around the same time lights the fire back under her.  Tira flits to her shoulder slowly, evidently having eaten something, and nestles inside her robes to doze off.  The others question the servitor as discussed the night before - revelations of the King's Temple, the two allied groups within the demon's ranks, and the final primaeval defending the last goal - this info causes the group to discuss priorities and ask more of Mercy.  New Zarian is in danger, but Rathoran believes Mercy enough that it may not require immediate defense, something Jegger understandably disagrees with and almost starts offering for their safety which Ganiz thankfully stops before the servitor can offer anything too tempting.

 "Thank you for the confirmation, Infinite Mercy.  With the information provided, we will accomplish our task post-haste.  Let's pack up and move out, people!"   Rathoran tries to end the conversation immediately while tying up her turban, then starts taking down her tent and making other preparations to leave,  very  eager to be done conversing with the servitor and get the job done.
Awful
   "As you wish,"    the devil says, a shrug in its voice.     "Well, I have other things to get back to: do try your best."   

The cat blinked and shook its head, and when it opened its eyes again they were the ordinary placid eyes of the servitor-cat.

  "This servitor will now lead you to the detected group now follow."   it blurts in the rushed way the minor devil(?) has, and without anything more leads you on.

A few hours pass as it leads you south east, skirting around the site of your last battlefield, into a field of boulders, scattered about like the aftermath of a giant's game. The land here is a bit flatter even through its still scrubby hills. Craggy stones project from the earth like the stumps of teeth. There's more life here, it seems. Tiny lizards, clad in jewel-bright scales, bask on the stones and flee at your footfalls. Even some little birds, scraggy and yellow-feathered, scavenge for beetles amid the scrub. Lichen clings to the side of the stones in dessicated fronds.

Along the way, the servitor pauses. For a long moment it is still.

Its ears prick up.

  "Thi-"   it begins before there is a sharp whistling sound. A pair of arrows appear in it, the force of them casting the servitor off its feet, and even as it hits the ground it seems to change, its hide turning to starfield like a lizard shedding its skin. A heartbeat later, the whole thing dissolves away into the air, even the ash fading from sight. The arrows, clean and unmarked, clatter to the ground, but there's no time to gawp like a country boy at his first fair; more are whizzing towards you with vicious speed!

 
 Spoiler: Against Joan 

18,11 hit
Joan takes 9 damage!

16, 7, miss
 


An arrow screeches off her helm before a second punches through her maille into her ribs, drawing a pulse of reddish aasimar blood.

 Joan takes 9 damage! 
 
 Spoiler: Against Jegger 

18, 14, hit
10 damage!

15, 10, miss
 


Similarly, for Jegger, two arrows come like the reaper's grasp; one is stopped dead by the warriors breastplate, the other stopped when it pierces through into his gut like a scorpion's sting.

 Jegger takes 10 damage! 
 
 Spoiler: Against Rathoran 

6, 23, hit
5 damage
 

For the more lightly armoured Rathoran, it seems they only decided to allocate one arrow - and while it sinks into her thigh the arrow itself blocks the wound enough she doesn't exsanguinate from the bleeding.

 Rathoran takes 5 damage! 
 
 Spoiler: Against Ganiz 

13, 8, miss
 


Ganiz alone is saved fully by his armour. It clinks against his own maille, but the old iron does its job; a thump through the padding, but the old innkeep won't be going with the Wheel's turn from something like that.

From sixty feet away, a quartet of figures have appeared on top of the boulders, clad in dusty desert robes, and each holding a shortbow in their hands. Without the vantage points of the boulders, there's no way they'd have the angles to aim at you, but with the advantage of height and surprise they've attacked from a position of safety. They woop warcries, keening, mocking things, but in what must be the most minor of mercies its not the ugly anti-sounds of demons.

Two on the left, two on the right.

A well done ambush, it seems. The servitor is dead - banished - whichever it is, it is gone, and now it is time for humans to die under the merciless sun.

 Roll for initiative! 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

I rolled their stealth against your passive perception, and they got 22, which beats you handily. They beat the servitor's, too.
 
agignac
Joan gasps with the suddenness of the attack. The servitor is gone before she truly understands what is happening. It's not until an arrow scrapes along her ribs that her brain slams into action. She reaches for the warhammer hanging at her hip, gasping in pain - her reflexes are slowed, and she prays that the others will not pay for her inattention with their lives.
Awful
The four figures are already nocking fresh arrows to their bows. Clad in desert-tribe robes, they move with casual confidence as they prepare to fire again.

 It is Ganiz' and Rathoran's turn. 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Init:

Ganiz: 23
 Rath: 19
Ambushers: 14
Jegger: 11
Joan: 6

So Ganiz and Rath will have a turn, then the enemy, then it'll be everyone.

The enemies are around sixty feet away, around ten-fifteen feet up on boulders.
Two are to the left, two to the right.
 
The Hellbug
There's no chance for Ganiz to say anything between when the servitor is skewered and when the arrow thuds into his armor, and by the time he looks again, Infinite Mercy's servant is nothing more than a starscape dissolving into nothing.  The ambushers are clearly here to deal death, and Ganiz is quickly ready to do so in turn.  He draws his bow as he takes cover behind one of the boulders.  The innkeep knocks an arrow and waits one second, then two, giving them long enough to have a reasonable doubt about which side of the boulder he'll attack them from.  Suddenly, he pop's out and fires at one of the two on the left.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Moving to the closest boulder, using bonus action to hide then action to attack!

Hide:  (1d20+6)[ 10 ] 

Attack (w/ advantage if hide succeeds):  (1d20+6)[ 22 ]  (1d20+6)[ 13 ] 
damage:  (1d6+3)[ 4 ] 
sneak attack extra damage:  (2d6)[ 7 ] 
 
Kushina43
The skewered cat was too quick a prelude to respond to - the arrow sinking into Rathoran's thigh stung, but she stays resolute and pulls out her bow to counterattack.  With two varied pitch whistles she urges Tira to fly out, low to the ground, and hide behind a boulder ahead - should be close enough she can strike back soon.  She gets a closer look at her attackers and sees the robes around them - a desert tribe, but based on their cries, ones most certainly alive and well enough to ambush.  Rather than support Ganiz's immediate counterattack, she steps out to try and talk them down, then notices upon closer inspection that their robes match her garb.  Her weapon remains drawn, but the arrow not yet nocked with little intent to do so.. yet.

 "Hey.. Are you by chance of my former tribe?  The name 'Rathoran' ring any bells, for good or ill?  It's been some time since I left, but I wasn't expecting this kind of hostility!"   She tries to laugh it off, ease the tension, then continues,  "Please, for all our sakes, I suggest you stand down.  I'm sure you have your reasons, but if you know who I am, surely you're aware of the anomaly about New Zarian, something I warned could cause problems for us in my final days before exile.  I and the others here have been tasked with dealing with the problem, and have already faced horrors once beyond comprehension to stand here." 

Memories flooding back, she steels herself before the new arrivals to warn them of the danger.   "They're killing and using us, at least a half-dozen bodies from other tribes litter a cave we recently left, and I've found no reason to think you are safe either.  I refuse to add any more myself.. unless absolutely necessary."   She nocks her arrow, thorny essence imbued into the projectile and swirling around the arrowhead like a swarm of insects.   "Please.  Stand down." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Command Tira to move behind the furthest ahead half cover and Dodge along the way, preferably far enough she could reach next turn.

Readying a cast of Spike Growth centered on the boulder of the next one to attack herself or an ally
 
Awful
An arrow flies back towards them from Ganiz, and there's a brief cry where one of the ambushers finds a gash opened up on their arm.

At Rathoran's words, there's a moment where they seem to be ignored, before one of the ambushers in slightly more decorated robes and with a finer bow than the others gives a sharp, stutttering missile, and the other three pause.

He mutters quickly to the person next to him, then stands up fully. Now he's fully standing, you can see the white-red-purple of his clothing more easily, and he tugs down his facial veil to reveal dark skin and a short-shorn black beard. Perhaps in his fourties, his eyes are deep-set in a face made harsh by the desert enviroment.

"Rathoran Dhodom? Is that you, girl?" he calls. He mutters another few words to his companion. So you can easily see, he unnocks the arrow from his bow, holds it up, and slides it back into the quiver. Cautiously, he jumps down from the boulder and approaches, leaving himself just out of reach of a quick charge-and-swing.

"It's I, Yatheri Altiri. Sand and blood, girl, that thing with you was a devil-spawn. I'd hoped you'd gone into the east, away from all this."

You know Yatheri. A skilled and practical man, and a distant  relation - a half-uncle or something like that. You remember he argued  for you at your exile before the elders decided your fate.
Kushina43
Rathoran's thorns fizzle out as she lowers her bow, her scarlet eyes lighting up in recognition.   "Yatheri!  Indeed, it is me..  And, sorry to disappoint, but I couldn't stay out of this mess once I noticed the problem.  You should know how I am, after that Sisl fiasco.  Thanks for standing up for me back then, by the way."   Relief visibly washes over her and she whistles, calling Tira back to perch on her shoulder as she steps forward a bit.

 "You wouldn't believe the manner of monstrosities we've come across since forming this little group."   She hesitates a moment, then adds,  "But that devil-spawn was.. not our current enemy.  It was leading us to a problem that needs solving, that we may soon quell the anomaly about New Zarian- a group of demons with worshippers and thralls.  The cave I mentioned before was the first, a hideout we cleared, and after this second we would be well on our way to rooting out the source."   She looks down and away a moment and considers explaining the situation with Mercy a bit further, but the words don't come to her for some time, hesitant she'd mistakenly implicate themselves as entirely aligned with the devil to someone she looked up to. Instead, she turned the rest of the way back to her comrades and waved as a signal that the danger has passed.
Awful
Yatheri's expresson twists, a look of dismay warring with concern.

"Look, girl," he says slowly, uncertainly, looking for the words. One of his hands tugs at his beard in consternation. "No, not girl. Rathoran. You're a woman grown now, I guess. Look. Things aren't as simple as they seem. These people and their monsters - we're working with them. For now. Won't be for long."
A touch wretchedly, he adds, "It's a matter of honour. The tribe's honour. We made an oath, grisly work or not."
Dr.Samurai
Jegger grimaces as he pulls the arrow out of his breastplate, a sharp pain and blood indicating that it had indeed penetrated,   Wait, you all are working with Infinite Mercy too? Or are you saying you are working with the demon summoners?   He looks to the others, confusion on his face.
agignac
As Rathoran parlayed with her people, Joan took a moment to heal her hurt. Placing her shield-hand over the injury, she concentrated a moment, allowing the light of her father to flow into her skin and knit her flesh. She then reaches a hand over to Jegger, standing next to her, and does the same for him.

 
 Spoiler 
If there's time for 2 actions, then 9 pts to Joan and 10 to Jegger
 


 "Look, girl," he says slowly, uncertainly, looking for the words. One of his hands tugs at his beard in consternation. "No, not girl. Rathoran. You're a woman grown now, I guess. Look. Things aren't as simple as they seem. These people and their monsters - we're working with them. For now. Won't be for long."
A touch wretchedly, he adds, "It's a matter of honour. The tribe's honour. We made an oath, grisly work or not." 

The relief she'd felt vanishes and the back of Joan's neck prickles.   They're working with the demon cultists?!   Her instinct was to attack immediately, but on the other hand, Joan knew a thing or two about oaths. Choosing her words carefully, she says,   "I am Joan Brighton. It has been my honour to fight along Rathoran's side, to destroy the demons that are threatening these lands. It would seem that your purpose is also to protect your people, but you have taken a different route to do so. Would you speak to us of your oath? Perhaps with patience and trust, we can find a way to help each other, rather than do the demons and devils work for them, and kill each other."  

persuasion:
[roll0]
Kushina43
 
 Originally Posted by Awful 
 "Look, girl- No, not girl. Rathoran. You're a woman grown now, I guess. Look. Things aren't as simple as they seem. These people and their monsters - we're working with them. For now. Won't be for long."  A touch wretchedly, he adds, "It's a matter of honour. The tribe's honour. We made an oath, grisly work or not." 
 

 "You're working..  with  them."   It takes a moment for it to sink in.   "Our tribe.. made an oath with the demons."   Thoughts race as to how this could have occurred - perhaps an agreement to avoid the existential threat they posed, perhaps the elders were ahead of the game and wanted to secure the tribe's future in the worst case scenario, it certainly had to have been during her time away, and-

She paused, took a breath, collected herself.  Jegger asks to clarify their allegiance while Joan takes the opportunity to communicate, both filling the awkward gap caused by Rathoran's overthinking.


 
 Originally Posted by agignac 
   "I am Joan Brighton. It has been my honour to fight along Rathoran's side, to destroy the demons that are threatening these lands. It would seem that your purpose is also to protect your people, but you have taken a different route to do so. Would you speak to us of your oath? Perhaps with patience and trust, we can find a way to help each other, rather than do the demons and devils work for them, and kill each other."   
 

 "..  Thank you, Joan, yes, forgive me for that, Yatheri.  Though New Zarian is our group's purpose, I harbor no resentment toward you and the rest of the tribe and would much prefer a way to resolve this conflict peacefully -  As you put it, Joan, this encounter is due to powers proclaimed higher than ourselves, and I will  not  be puppeteered into useless bloodshed."  She puts away her bow and holds out a hand to Yatheri, not necessarily expecting a response to the gesture, just making a show of willing cooperation.

 "We will elaborate on your request, but our oath to the devil likely does not require conflict with you- specifically, our targets are only the demons and their cultists, the condition of our alliance being that the devil and their forces do not bring harm upon New Zarian while we are allied.  With a demon attacking and killing someone in New Zarian just prior to meeting them, it seemed the better option at the time to gain an advantage - the cat was a guide, of sorts."   She withholds the need to retrieve the fragment for the moment, pessimistically expecting that to be a major source of conflict due to its sheer importance, and just wants to be over and done with this before any escalation.
The Hellbug
Ganiz steps out and lowers his bow with the rest, sliding his next arrow back into his quiver, but he doesn't apologize.  He cautiously follows along with the conversation but doesn't yet add anything; Rathoran and Joan seem to have it under control.  He, too, doesn't want to fight anybody, especially Rathoran's folk, for no reason, but if honor binds them to the demons and their summoners, he's afraid bloodshed may be inevitable.  For it's necessity that binds him, his companions, and New Zarian to The Infinite Mercy of the Uncaring Cosmos, a fickler twine than honor but a stronger one, to be sure.  Musing on this, the innkeep wonders if avoiding conflict now may just be laying seeds for more down the road.
Dr.Samurai
Jegger had looped the axe back on his belt to remove the arrow, but now it seemed they may have to fight anyway. The man that knows Rathoran is still too far; he would be able to loose some arrows before they could reach him, not to mention the others with him still up near the boulders.

He keeps the grip on his shield tight, ready to intercept incoming arrows if need be, but hoping they listen to Joan and Rathoran's words.
Awful
Yatheri hesitates, then walks forward and grasps Rathoran's hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze before he lets go and steps back a few paces, sitting down.

"I'm hoping," he says a tad dryly, "You won't stab a man while he's sitting down."

Pulling out a stoppered gourd, he takes a sip and places it in front of him.

"I'd say pleased to meet you, Joan Brighton," he says by reply to her, "But with the situation as it is, I'll just say my thanks for looking after Rathoran. She's a good girl."

He makes the hand-flapping gesture universally recognised as 'sit, sit'.

"Anyway. The oath. There was an oath made, but not to these monsters, exactly. See, maybe... Thirty-five, forty years ago. I was barely a man grown back then. Some of our scouts roamed too far, and found a ruin in the desert. Middle of the Deep Dry, as your kind tend to call it - we roamed further in those days."

He lapses into silence for a moment, his gaze dark. The wind mutters between the boulders, stirring desultory trails of dust.

"Our scouts found a monster. Some old and awful thing. One scout got away, but the monster followed him back - right to our tribe. We tried to fight it, but it was useless. Every night, it came back. Took another. Night after night. Blood on the sand. Fading screams.

We tried everything and nothing worked. We asked the other tribes for help. Dropped our pride and begged them."

His expression twists into sullen anger, like a flame in a slow dance.

"They refused. Didn't want to risk the creature coming after their own once it was done with us. We talked amongst ourselves. We were going to shatter, spread to all the winds, in hope some of us would get away. And then..."

Yatheri picks up the water gourd again, swirls it slowly between his worn and calloused fingers.

"Then a woman showed up. Told us she could help us. She had us lead it back to the ruins it came from, me and any others brave enough to go, and she sealed it in there. Nearly died doing it, too. We were saved.

We made an oath to her then. The tribe owed her our lives - all of them. She said she'd call on us in the future, and then we'd have to help her out.

And just a few months ago, not long after your banishment, Rathoran - she showed up, looking barely a day older to the person I saw in my youth. The blue-eyes woman. She called on that oath, and said:  I rustled up some allies of convenience. For now, we're working with them. It'll be grim work - but what I'm doing will be for the good of all, in the end. "

He looks at you all slowly, panning his red-eyes gaze about.

"So that's that," he says at last. "Never been much of a storyteller. We're honour-bound to help our saviour, and she says: help these men and their monsters."
The Hellbug
  "Hmm,"   Ganiz grunts before finally speaking up,   "this blue-eyed woman: fancy poncho, big hat, not from around here, commands demons?  Name of Glint?"  
Awful
The nomad gives a slow nod.
"Sounds about right, though I'm surprised you met. Those years ago, she'd introduced herself as Glint of Dawn, so the name is close enough."
Dr.Samurai
Jegger perks up,   Our stories aren't the same, but close enough. Monster shows up, kills a boy. We go look for it, and Glint finds us. She even offered help. Not in the same way maybe, weregild, and a promise it wouldn't happen again, but she was there to deal with the monster.

The problem is, Glint was in control of that demon that killed the boy.  

Jegger looks to the others,   What if she was controlling this creature that killed the scouts and their people too?  
agignac
  Glint of Dawn.  

That was an oddly...angelic sounding name. Or devilish. Though perhaps a bit short of a name for either? Though she had no idea if angelic beings were as "honest" as devils were about introducing themselves fully. Joan wishes she'd paid more attention to Glint when they'd met her. Her? It? She'd had her eyes on the canines that had been surrounding them, and hadn't focused on the person. Still, angel or devil, something was different about Glint, if she hadn't aged in all those years.   Then again, I'm much older than I look, too.  

Jegger's words hit Joan like a physical blow.   "That would be very in keeping for a devil - control the situation, stick to the truth, and hope nobody asks the right questions."   Is that what Infinite Mercy of the Ruinous Cosmos was doing? Were they but pawns on the game board, being moved around by beings infinitely patient and much smarter than she was? Almost certainly. But what did that mean for the current situation?

  "It is possible that we're both being manipulated by opposing forces, or even allied ones, who pit us against each other for their amusement. It is entirely possible that you have been tricked into service by this Glint. Equally likely that we have. Though destroying demons is something I - we - would be doing anyway."  

Turning to Rathoran's kin, she said,   "Can you tell us exactly what you have been tasked to do? Perhaps we can yet find a way keep from becoming enemies, killing each other at our master's bidding."  
The Hellbug
Ganiz, frowning at Yatheri's response, shakes his head.    "No, Jegger, I think she was honest about the situation; play with fire and someone gets burned,"   he disagrees,   "Glint didn't want anything except us not being a problem, and she was doing that the easiest way she had: pay 'em off, and if that don't work, kill 'em.  I've seen it before."  

He doesn't go on to editorialize further, waiting to see what the nomad will say to Joan's offer.
Dr.Samurai
Jegger tosses the arrow he pulled out of his gut to the ground near where Yatheri is sitting,   Yeah well, trying to kill me is almost guaranteed to earn you a problem.  
Awful
Yatheri picks up the arrow, carefully inspecting it for damage; finding none, he wipes it clean and tucks it away inside a quiver. His red eyes regard Jegger carefully, old and desert-worn.
"Life is full of problems," he says quietly. "One must struggle against them until they cannot."

He sighs and turns to Joan.
"We swore a blood-debt to her; whatever she asks for it, we are bound to our greatest attempts to achieve, whether she asked us to pluck the moon from the sky or no. For now, she asked us to work with the revanchists and follow their orders: their lord demanded on the death of that other group to hunt down their killers, delay and kill them if possible. We have killed your devil-spawn. As for delay..."

He considers you all thoughtfully.
"Wait but a day before moving against them. I do not know how you may justify it to your devil-master. Perhaps you can say you were uncertain to proceed without it's whispers. Either way, a day's delay is enough to say we obeyed our commands, I think, and satisfy honour enough to allow it."
agignac
Joan opens her mouth to protest, then shuts it again.  Could  they even find the demons again without the servitor? Sure, they could keep walking in the direction the cat had been leading them, but there was no guarantee they'd find them. Instead, maybe they should return to the camp and ask for a new one. It would give them an opportunity to get more ammunition for the lightning weapon, which had proved devastatingly useful.

On the other hand, giving the demons an extra day to do whatever evil they were planning - that could have dire consequences. Her vow was to destroy demons, and those who would help them. Joan felt sympathy for the tribespeople, who may have been tricked into making their deal. However, they had done it of their own free will. Then again, they were Rathoran's people. The type of people they were killing demons to protect.

  It was easier when I was doing this alone.   Not that she would give up her companions for an easier conscience. Hesitantly, she asked,   "Do you know their purpose? Do you know if one day would give them the time they need to complete their evil plans?"  
Awful
The desert nomad gives the starblooded warrior a wan smile.
"Already I skirt against the oath. We cannot be allies; even if no ill-will stands between us."
The Hellbug
Ganiz's thoughtful gaze goes from Yatheri to each of his companions, settling on Rathoran last.  Not one of them looks eager to draw steel.  He scratches an itch above his ear then turns back to the nomads' leader.    "We can do that.  One day,"   he confirms, holding up a single finger,   "if we meet again, I pray it's when this is all done."    The innkeep readjusts the straps on his shoulders, nods respectfully at Yatheri, and prepares to turn away.    "Last chance, anything else?"   he asks his allies, again paying special attention to Rathoran,   "if not, I think we're done here."  
agignac
Joan nods slowly. To avoid bloodshed would be preferable. She hoped that they would not regret this decision later.

She inclined her head to the tribe folk and said,   "I shall pray that we do not meet again."  
Kushina43
A day of delay.  That was the best that could be done.  Rathoran closes her eyes and nods.   "Yes.. I see no better way around the terms, so I'd say it's an agreeable compromise.  One day's delay as a result of this confrontation fulfills both orders."   She looks around at her group, then locks eyes with Yatheri once more.  She places her hands before her, contemplating a deeper bow of appreciation worth his help, but instead gives a short one.   "Once again you've been a big help to me.  I hope to reciprocate one day..  After this forced conflict is behind us." 

She stands to her feet with the rest of the group, turning away with them, then stops and looks over her shoulder at her tribesmen once again.   "Speaking of which, I need to formally thank you for the help.  Not only for this moment, but also for back then. If you're wondering why I haven't already, well.."   She turns a bit more to give a cheeky wink and smile.   "I don't feel like doing that yet!  That'll be after, too, so don't go dying on me until then, Yatheri.  I won't." 

She doesn't wait for a response before turning away to walk with the party.  While the smile fades quickly, the joy that was in her eyes fuels a fire in her following expression.  For as much as this revelation of her tribe's allegiance hurt, this exchange has only further emboldened her desire to save everything.
Dr.Samurai
Jegger stands to leave with the others, but turns back to Yatheri with some parting words,   The demons and cultists you are protecting killed a boy. One of their champions nearly killed me, but for the others, and if they hadn't prevailed against him, he would have killed them and Rathoran too.

Honor can be found in breaking an oath. In fact, sometimes it requires it.  
The Hellbug
  "That's enough,"   Ganiz admonishes, putting his hand on Jegger's shoulder,   "time to go."   The innkeep looks up at the sun and tries to judge the direction that'll be the best way back the Crossguard Company's camp.

______

  "Rathoran,"   he says once the party is well out of eye- and earshot of the nomads,    "normally I'm one to let bygones be bygones--we aren't all what we were."     He pauses, giving time for that to sink in and to let everyone else guess where he's going with this before he continues:   "but, well, here we are.  What's your story?  Why'd they throw you out?"  
Awful
To Jegger, he says:
"An oath you'll break is no oath at all." He smiles, no joy in it, and looks at the barbarian for a moment. "Honour is not to pick and choose what is most salve to the spirit. In this, I suspect, we will find no agreement. Sky watch you all kindly," Yatheri says, rising to his feet.

To Ganiz and Joan he nods in farewell. As Rathoran walks away, his expression deepens, pensive and conflicted, until finally he calls out:

"Rathoran! If you would ever listen to this old man, listen now: stay alive, girl! Flee this place! Once this is done with, I will argue a debt from the tribe for fulfilling the oath in their place - and the price I will ask is to let you return, if you wish it! So live!"

Backing away, he slowly disappears into the shelter of the scattered boulders and is lost to view.

As you head away, back the way you came, the distant figures of the other tribesmen watch you go, still as statues in the desert sun.
Kushina43
 
 Originally Posted by Awful 
 As Rathoran walks away, his expression deepens, pensive and conflicted, until finally he calls out:

"Rathoran! If you would ever listen to this old man, listen now: stay alive, girl! Flee this place! Once this is done with, I will argue a debt from the tribe for fulfilling the oath in their place - and the price I will ask is to let you return, if you wish it! So live!" 
 

Rathoran nods in partial agreement as her only response.  She didn't want to hash anything out or argue about fleeing - they would meet again for that purpose.  She had to have faith in that much.


 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "Rathoran,"   he says once the party is well out of eye- and earshot of the nomads,   "normally I'm one to let bygones be bygones--we aren't all what we were. But, well, here we are.  What's your story?  Why'd they throw you out?"   
 

She lets out a huff, hoping to release some of her tension.  It did not.  But even so, with her tribe now involved and potentially an obstacle, she had to come forward with her story.   "Well, I suppose if it's relevant now."   She concedes, and begins telling of how she was, after much argument, assigned leader of her tribe's preliminary scouting group for the month.  "I always tended to.. chafe with some of the older members, but they couldn't deny my skill from prior accomplishments.  Unfortunately, my skill was all I had."   She, her brother Ravi, and a few others were on their third excursion since she was assigned leader, the previous two having no problems reported.  Yatheri, meanwhile, led the second group made up of veterans that more slowly combed the first's trail.

 "Looking back, the signs were all there.  The unusual dips in the nearby dunes.  The sparse vegetation swarmed by small insects, where normally lizards would disperse them.  But no, all I saw was the caravan - a merchant named Sisl.  We weren't allied or duty bound, but I'd gotten to know him as he frequented us and other tribes, a man who's heart is as big as his deals are shady- a unique combination for a unique man."   She reminisces, speaking fondly of a close friend she hasn't seen in some time.   "Juvenile giant scorpions were assaulting him for his food, so I pivoted and ordered a charge to help him get free...  The damning part was that only three of us eight made it down.  We killed the juveniles easy enough, but only after did I notice I was missing men.  I had the other two guard Sisl as I went back up, and found most of them were being killed by the adults.  My haste had us pass right over their nest." 

She goes silent for almost a full minute as they walk, taking a few breaths to center herself.   "Sorry about that.  Much as I tried, I couldn't save most of them.  Of the five, only Ravi survived, his leg torn off in the battle I missed.  When I saw his injury, I put myself in front of him and attacked the perpetrating scorpion myself.  The only reason we lived was that Tira, more attentive than I, had instead flown back towards the second group when I ordered the charge. With her warning, Yatheri and his veteran group rushed to our aid, making it just in time to save us." 

Another breath.   "And that's the worst part out of the way.  Sisl was safe, Ravi got the care he needed, and.. Then the elders fought with me and over me.  I was to be punished severely for recklessly causing four deaths and endangering more, all while going outside the established boundaries for an outsider.  While not the only one to argue with the elders for my sake, Yatheri was the loudest, and through his word I would avoid imprisonment or possibly execution.  Instead, I got exile." 
agignac
Joan listened to Rathoran's story in silence. It would seem that the desert tribes were a judgmental lot, not quick to forgive. Not quick to break an oath, either.   "I am sorry for the loss of your friends, and the loss of your tribe. I imagine that exile often means death out here."  

After the conversation had petered out, she asked,   "Do we know how to get back to the camp? I am hopelessly turned around."   She had a way to speak directly with the Infinite Mercy of the Ruinous Cosmos, but she didn't want to if she could avoid it.
The Hellbug
Ganiz nods grimly along with Rathoran's story.  He's sympathetic, of course; her situation seems close enough to parallel his own ten years prior.  No, more a mirror than a parallel--she was thrown out from her people after her brush with death while he found his.  Pity's the wrong thing for it, though.  She's made her mistake her own weight to bear and somehow stays cheery besides.  It's more than Ganiz thinks he could manage in her situation, and he inwardly shudders at the thought of having had to recover all those years ago without Adela and the people of New Zarian.

  "Not necessarily,"   Ganiz says to Joan's supposition once the story is over,   "but most would be forced to rely on the generosity of strangers before too long.  And there's not so much to be generous with around these parts--"   the innkeep's mouth twitches   "--you're right about one thing, though: it'd be frightful skilled person makes it on her own out there."  

Unfortunately, though, he's still unsure about the ranger.  He wishes she seemed like she bore some ill-will towards the tribe that threw her out--it would be much more convenient in counting on her loyalty to what their group has set out to do--but he knows he can't hold it against her.

  "So where are you at now, then?"   Ganiz asks, turning a serious gaze on Rathoran,   "I wouldn't think you any worse for taking him up on that.  Don't think we'll get off so easy if we run into them again.  There'll be blood.  We all have to make our peace with that."  
Dr.Samurai
  "That's enough,"   Ganiz admonishes, putting his hand on Jegger's shoulder,   "time to go."  

Jegger shrugs Ganiz's hand off his shoulder and regards the innkeep and Yatheri, before shaking his head and walking away.

______

Jegger keeps quiet in the wake of Rathoran's story. Gendo would have wanted him to save Sisl, were he in Rathoran's position, so he doesn't understand the wrath of the Elders. And it seems like... they had judged her ready to lead. Yet they were so sure she had blundered.

He thinks of Yatheri, who stands thinking he can judge Rathoran, while protecting the demon summoners. Jegger is certain they would have killed Yatheri and his troop had the groups come to blows. Does that make Yatheri worthy of exile?

The innkeep's voice shakes him from his thoughts.

  So where are you at now, then?   Ganiz asks, turning a serious gaze on Rathoran,   I wouldn't think you any worse for taking him up on that. Don't think we'll get off so easy if we run into them again. There'll be blood. We all have to make our peace with that.  
  Let it go Ganiz. She's here, with us.  
The Hellbug
Ganiz shakes his head sharply at Jegger's admonishment.    "Can't do that Jegger, not with a clean conscience,"   he answers, continuing to speak to the ranger,   "listen Rathoran, this ain't his decision or mine: it's yours.  Not everyone gets a choice about everything, and no one else can tell you what's right even when you do.  But no one's gonna take it from you, not when you have it, and not while I'm here.  You're gonna have to live with it either way, but you'll get to know you made it."  

The innkeep puts a hand on his forehead and suddenly looks more tired than anyone here has seen him.    "I've already been there.  With the devil,"   he admits,   "if I thought I could get Adela and Marsau and the girls out I'd already be gone.  But here I am.  Here  we  are.  Demons in front of us and demons behind."  

Ganiz looks up after a moment of silence.    "Doesn't have to be this moment, mind, but there's no running from it."  
Kushina43
 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "So where are you at now, then?  I wouldn't think you any worse for taking him up on that.  Don't think we'll get off so easy if we run into them again.  There'll be blood.  We all have to make our peace with that."   
 


 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "listen Rathoran, this ain't his decision or mine: it's yours.  Not everyone gets a choice about everything, and no one else can tell you what's right even when you do.  But no one's gonna take it from you, not when you have it, and not while I'm here.  You're gonna have to live with it either way, but you'll get to know you made it."  [...]

  "Doesn't have to be this moment, mind, but there's no running from it."   
 


Rathoran sighs, expecting the question and not wanting to voice her answer yet, but obliges.   "No no, I get it, I'd rather clear the air now.  I'm determined to resolve this without harm coming to them, that's true.  But I'm not so naïve to think we can  all  get what we want out of this mess.  If it comes to a fight with them for a chance to save New Zarian and the rest..  I'll stick to my own code and stand with you all.  And if  that  changes for some reason, I won't tiptoe around it."   Tira slithers down her arm and gently wraps around her finger, getting her attention and petting the snake with the other hand.   "Hope that and my actions from here on will be enough to assuage any concerns." 
The Hellbug
  "That's that, then,"   Ganiz says with an acceding nod.  He stands up, stretches his legs, and takes one last swig from his waterskin.    "It can't be too hard,"   the innkeep finally answers Joan,   "plus Tira knows the way.  To New Zarian, at least."  
agignac
  "But we're not going to New Zarian, are we?"   Joan asked.   "I understand you wanting to check up on your family, but surely there's no time to get there and back today. I thought we would head straight to the camp? We can see if they're able to charge our spent lightning cylinders, and get a new servitor."  

She thought a moment, then added,   "Do we tell them about our deal with Rathoran's tribe?   " 
The Hellbug
  "We aren't,"   Ganiz replies,   "but if we can't find our way from here, we definitely can from there.  More than likely won't be a problem, though."    He looks up at the sun's position in the sky and around at the surrounding rock formations.    "And about Rathoran's tribe?  Don't think that'll be necessary."  
Dr.Samurai
  Mercy will know the servitor was killed, so we should plan to tell it something when we get back,   Jegger says.
The Hellbug
Ganiz scratches his beard, considering this for a moment.    "Ambushed by the demons' human servants in the desert so the servitor wouldn't detect them,"   he replies,   "they plucked our eyes, and we were forced to retreat."    The innkeep looks up at Jegger, does everything short of a shrug, and continues hiking.    "Mercy doesn't lie, apparently.  Neither will we.  We're still getting the devil what they want."  
Awful
With agreement made, and naught else to do, the party turns about, beginning the walk back across the unsteady terrain. In the distance, the tribesmen watch them go before sliding out of sight among the stones.

It's past dusk by the time the four have wound their way back to the soldier's encampment, the stubby tombstones of cottages of Old Zarian. The soldiers have lit little fires sixty feet out from their lines, and after some shouting back and forth, a group come forward to lead you back into the camp. This late, little campfires burn through the town where the Crossguard soldiers have camped, many of them just sleeping forms under tent canvas.

Looking tired, the one-armed officer you met before comes out to greet you. A squad of mercenaries remains nearby, in distance to intervene if it became necessary,m but far away enough to pretend to politeness.

 "Hey there,"  says Third-Proxy Tannic, scratching at a cheek now stubbled next to his red-hued goatee.  "Did you finish your tasks? Where's the, you know, cat?"  
The Hellbug
  "Not totally,"   Ganiz replies.  He gives a nod at the nearby mercenaries, a small acknowledgement of their presence.  It's been a long day and he can't wait to get the projector pack off, but he has the patience to at least indulge the Third Proxy's curiosity a small bit.    "Didn't make it.  Dead?  Gone, anyway.  Ambush by the demon's servants.  No demons among them so it couldn't sense them.  A couple arrows and whoosh"  --he accompanies the description of its disappearance with a popping motion from a single hand--  "it was gone.  Up and faded like the night sky at dawn.  Reckon it was showing its true colors at the end.  Any case, there's still one more group of demons out there, to our knowledge."  
Dr.Samurai
Jegger sets his pack down and starts to help Ganiz remove the lightning launcher. He adds to Tanic,   We were hoping to get more ammunition for the launcher as well.  
agignac
Joan wondered how much The Infinite Mercy of the Ruinous Cosmos would know about their half-truths and prevarications. Would the mark it had described on their flesh allow it to know more than it should? What would it do if it found out about their betrayal? She had mixed feelings about it herself.

Grateful that the men were doing the talking, the paladin took off her helmet and scratched at the short, silvery hair until it stuck up in clumps. Her scalp was gritty with salt and sand, parts of her hair glued together with dried blood.

  "If we could rest with you for the night, perhaps get another guide and more lightning, we would be grateful,"   she said.   "We won't abuse your hospitality long, and will be gone in the morning, hopefully to finish the job."  
Awful
At the cat's demise, the officer winces.

 "Well, that ain't good,"  the Proxy says, brows furrowed.  "I think you better talk to the bosses in person. I'll try and rummage you up some more lightning vials, meanwhile. You been getting good use out of it, then?" 

He chatters a bit more as he leads you to the little house that they were using an office. You'd have time to ask him a question or two while you walked.

Inside, the little room Tannic was using for his office is a little different. A circle had been drawn on the floor in chalk, and then mostly erased, so only a few smears in a vague circular shape are left; a few gnarled old tomes are piled next to it. Tannic heads straight past it, knocking on the door to Mordere's office and opening it.

 "The contractors, sir." 

Mordere simply grunts in acknowledgement. He almost looks like he hasn't moved since you saw him, except his pristine white jacket is now neatly hung from a coatrack and he sits in a (white, of course) shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he writes.

Cats are sprawled about the room in the typical feline way, same as last time, none of them immediately Infinite Mercy to your eyes.

Mordere doesn't look up from his paperwork as you're shuffled in, the door shut behind the retreating Tannic, and the silence extends.

Eventually, he simply snaps:
"Well?"
Dr.Samurai
  We need a new cat,   Jegger says matter-of-factly.
Awful
The officer doesn't look up from his paperwork. His pen scratches steadily.
"And why," he says in the same disinterested tone, "should you be granted something you are manifestly incapable of safeguarding?"
Dr.Samurai
Mordere irritates Jegger,   So we can find the last remaining group of demon summoners. What, this is the first cat you've lost?  
agignac
Mordere's attitude begins to annoy Joan.   "We were not led to believe that the servitor was a delicate being that we were being tasked with protecting. Two arrows from ambush took the creature out. If you wish us to find the last group of demons, it will go quicker with a guide. If you don't wish to provide one, then we will head out into the hills and do our best."   She wasn't about to beg this devil-worshipping human for help.
The Hellbug
Ganiz raises his arm about halfway, preparing to intervene and cut Jegger off from further engaging with Mordere's baiting, but suddenly stops when Joan joins in too.  He purses his lips but stays silent--better to present a united front than pursue what he thinks is the best strategy for dealing with the Mordere.  There's already no love lost between the innkeep and the second proxy; he just hopes this friction won't lead to problems down the road.
Awful
For a moment, the movement of his pen stops. The older man regards you, frowning for a moment, then continues writing.
  "How durable did you expect something the size of a cat to be? They are starblooded, not stone."   Mordere says steadily, an edge of contempt in his tone.   "The agreement was made. And our side has been well-kept. It is my understanding that even servitors are in short supply due to the dictates of the Pact of Settlement. I, personally, see no reason to furnish further assistance on ungrateful-"  

There's a thud that shakes the room. Mordere pauses. More thuds, as of something huge coming closer, stopping directly outside the room. There's a moment of silence.

The door opens quickly, violently, slamming open against the wall. Stepping through, the Infinite Mercy of the Ruinous Cosmos has a star-pattened shape dangling from one hand, the vague expressions of dangling limbs and tail. The devil steps past the party, starfield hair swaying with the motion, the bracelets around their wrists and ankles jangling softly, and disappears behind the privacy screens in the corner.

    "Did you know,"     its voice slides into your heads, unmuffled by the screens,     "That you share blood with some of the demon-aligned forces, Rathoran? I am curious if that led to your decision to turn back immediately after losing your guide - for do you not have any tracking skills of your own?"    

There's a strange, wet sound from behind the screen. A sharp retort, like bone breaking, or stone cracking.

    "Furthermore, as a devil of not insignificant power,"     it continues,     "I have the power to create and enforce contracts with mortals. As such, I have a... sense for these things. A sense that has twisted unpleasantly. As if something was done against the agreement we have made."    

Something crunches, as if between great jaws, once, twice, thrice. There is a faint smell of hot copper.

    "This is your chance to explain. What have you done against our pact?"    

Mercy emerges. Within their grip is a reformed cat, held carefully between clawed fingers. The devil perches on the edge of the desk, holding up the servitor for inspection carefully. It pauses.

    "Flawed,"     it says, as if commenting on the weather, and clenches its hands together. The servitor bursts under the pressure, splattering starfield blood over the floor. Mercy lets it drop, the corpse fading away before it even hits the ground.     "The Wheel so often engenders imperfection. I shall reshape it later."    
agignac
Joan's stomach twists at the sounds coming from behind the screen, and she tries not to flinch when the devil destroys its attempted recreation.   Stupid! I should have guessed the servitor would be able to return, and not be actually destroyed.  

Swallowing dryly, she stepped forward, stiffened her spine, and said,   "We did nothing against our pact. We declined to engage in hostilities with humans that had us out-numbered and out-positioned. It is our intention to find the remaining demon or group thereof, and destroy them. If that means fighting the same humans when next we meet, we will do so."  

Joan took a breath, and said,   "The first demon that we killed, before we met you, had a handler. She seemed human, but now it would seem that she, or it, has a longer than normal lifespan. It goes by the name of Glint. Do you know of this entity?"  
Awful
The devil ponders Joan's words for a second. Though it doesn't look any more pleased, the ache of heated-metal smell fades a little.
    "Declined to engage,"     the devil repeats, drawing out the words as if tasting them,     "How fortunate they were of a like mind. Demon-aligned dregs are rarely so kind. But our agreement was for you to destroy the demons  and  their cultists, was it not?"    

At the question about Glint, the devil pauses.
    "Yes,"     it says at last.     "Kill them if you encounter them, without conversation. I will have you rewarded if you do."    
Dr.Samurai
Jegger speaks up,   It would have been nice to know there's another immortal pulling strings out there in the desert, Mercy. We might have expected an encounter like the one with those tribesfolk. They're not cultists, and aren't a part of the agreement.  
The Hellbug
  "But we won't,"   Ganiz adds diplomatically,   "let them stop us again.  We all know the score on that"  --he eyes each of his companions--  "the desert folk, that is.  They're clever and well-informed, though, and know the land better than we do.  It won't be easy."  
  "Shame you didn't get to them first, really,"   he continues, not a hint of irony in his voice even as he glances at Mordere,   "folk'll work with the lowest kinds when they're desperate."  
agignac
 
 Originally Posted by Awful 
 At the question about Glint, the devil pauses.     "Yes,"     it says at last.     "Kill them if you encounter them, without conversation. I will have you rewarded if you do."     
 

Joan nodded slowly. With forced patience, she said,   "Yes, that is our intention. Do you have any information that could help with that task? What sort of being Glint is? Any weakness that would help destroy it?"  
Kushina43
Though the callout was somewhat expected, Rathoran couldn't help give the slightest flinch upon the accusation.  She takes a silent breath to calm herself and formulate a response as the others speak in turn.


 
 Originally Posted by agignac 
   "We did nothing against our pact. We declined to engage in hostilities with humans that had us out-numbered and out-positioned. It is our intention to find the remaining demon or group thereof, and destroy them. If that means fighting the same humans when next we meet, we will do so."   
 


 
 Originally Posted by Dr.Samurai 
   It would have been nice to know there's another immortal pulling strings out there in the desert, Mercy. We might have expected an encounter like the one with those tribesfolk. They're not cultists, and aren't a part of the agreement.   
 


 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "But we won't let them stop us again.  We all know the score on that -- the desert folk, that is.  They're clever and well-informed, though, and know the land better than we do.  It won't be easy."   
 

 "I discovered our relation early into the encounter after the servitor's demise, yes.  And I doubt I could deny to you that it played a part in choosing to discover a solution that both sides agreed upon - our stated goals did not appear to ask for immediate conflict, and when offered I leapt on the interpretation that let us all back off with minimal further combat."   She adds plainly, no desire for the devil to discover exaggeration or falsehood and cause trouble for everyone else.   "But it was also a one-time agreement, both parties fully aware a future meeting in this conflict would end in bloodshed.  Should they oppose us again, Infinite Mercy, do not think I will hesitate to act.  If they alone could sway me, I wouldn't have come back here in the first place." 

While the words are a bit harsher than she really believes in an attempt to placate the devil, the determination in her eyes is genuine.    If I'm going to save as many as possible, I must be willing to make the choice if it comes before another path opens.  

Once the subject of Glint comes up, her usual whimsy alights and she adds  "Oh yeah, Glint.  Any special methods we ought to be aware of to take them down, or is that apparent long life the kind that is useless against an arrow through the eye?" 
Awful
    "The one you called Glint is long-lived, perhaps unaging, but they possess no great powers that would prevent a crushed skull and stopped heart from affecting them any less than an ordinary human. No doubt they will have some tricks, and a surprising grasp of magic, for most mortals - but they are not much of a warrior, as much as my sources of information can tell."     the devil tells you, mental voice ringing in your skulls,     "Knowing of their longevity should not affect your task, and so there was no reason for you to be told. You are not required to talk with the enemy. Only to kill."    

Mordere makes a disgusted sound at Ganiz's statement.
  "They'd have been useful,"   he near-spits.   "And by the sounds of it, less disagreeable. But they're working with demons and their ilk, not to mention-"   
He glances at Mercy, a quick flick of his hard grey eyes.
  "-Not to mention,"   he continues, his voice a gravelly snarl,  "-helping provide sacrifices from other tribes."  
Dr.Samurai
Jegger speaks up, defiant,    We  will determine what is required to fulfill our terms of the pact, Mercy; there are, after all,  two  parties engaged in an agreement here. The tribespeople were bound to honor a pact between them and Glint from many many years back, when she saved them from some monstrous creature. Not cultists or demons, just people bound by a pact, like us. Knowing ahead of time might have helped us navigate that situation, or avoid it completely.

Is there anything else about this situation we need to know, now that we know we're pawns jockeying between two immortals?  

When Mordere speaks, some of the wind is taken out of Jegger's sails,   What do you mean providing sacrifices?  
agignac
 
 Originally Posted by Dr.Samurai 
 When Mordere speaks, some of the wind is taken out of Jegger's sails,   What do you mean providing sacrifices?   
 

Joan looks at her muscly human friend and says,   "I think they mean the ones we fought, the ones with the nails."  

 
 Originally Posted by Awful 
     "The one you called Glint is long-lived, perhaps unaging, but they possess no great powers that would prevent a crushed skull and stopped heart from affecting them any less than an ordinary human. No doubt they will have some tricks, and a surprising grasp of magic, for most mortals - but they are not much of a warrior, as much as my sources of information can tell."     the devil tells you, mental voice ringing in your skulls,     "Knowing of their longevity should not affect your task, and so there was no reason for you to be told. You are not required to talk with the enemy. Only to kill."     
 

The paladin shook her head, the motion making her chainmail tinkle.   "Speak sense. We are not asking for small-talk tips. Knowledge of Glint's abilities will help us kill it."   She bit her tongue, holding back from speaking something more insulting. Instead, she said,   "Is it your intention to provide us with another guide, or shall we leave without one?"  
Awful
Ganiz watches the glance between the Proxy and the devil.
 There's something he doesn't want to say,  the innkeep thinks. Not just information they don't know - but something they actively don't intend to share. Perhaps the devil had warned him off even as he spoke, talking to his mind only.

The devil, for its part, considers Joan for a moment. One slender, black-taloned finger tips on its lips thoughtfully in a copy of a human thinking gesture.

    "Very well, then. The one you call Glint possesses a great deal of magical knowledge, but little specialised towards direct violence. They can evade, teleport, and befuddle, and rely on others to do direct combat when possible, such as that ouroboric creature you encountered."     the devil tells you, mental voice ringing in your skulls,     "They are skilled in ritual - that is, magic that takes a very long time and specialised conditions and materials - so if they can settle in a location for a long time, they could defend it well, given the correct materials - most of which they do not find in the middle of a desert."     The devil smiles at the assimar, a catlike curl of the lips, though their terrible golden eyes do not change.
    "They will also have some resistance to the starflame radiance of my kind. The sort that even now smoulders inside you, Joan."    

The devil continues.
    "Remain here for tonight - the enemy will be forced to act with the majority of their force here destroyed. We shall see how they respond overnight, and that will determine the best path later."    
agignac
Joan bent her head in acknowledgement of the devil's suggestion/invitation. She had to admit, she couldn't think how the information about Glint could be used to their advantage, but more knowledge was always better. After all, in come circles, it was power.

She could think of no further questions to ask, and waited silently to see if her friends had anything to add.
Dr.Samurai
  Do you know where Glint is held up, Mercy?  
Awful
    "No,"     Mercy replies simply.
    "Anything else you wished to ask? If not, you may leave. Your day tomorrow is likely to be busy."    
Dr.Samurai
Jegger looks back and forth between Mordere and Mercy, the arrangement between them and the group rankling the warrior. Finally, he says,   I think that's it for now. But if we think of anything else, we'll come knocking.  
The Hellbug
  "Mmm,"   Ganiz assents with a nod, and, with the others, allows himself to be lead to wherever they'll be staying.

Once they've been delivered and are starting to get comfortable, he glances around for anyone who might overhear.    "We should set a watch,"   the innkeep whispers to his companions,   "there's something those two aren't telling us, and I don't like it.  I won't mind staying up for a while."  
agignac
Joan nodded at Ganiz's suggestion.   "I agree. I do not like it here."  

There was much about this she didn't like. Hated, in fact. A deal with a devil. It still made her skin crawl. She couldn't even look at the mark on her wrist without feeling nauseated. However. There was that little voice whispering in the back of her mind. What if she could learn more about her father, her heritage, from the Infinite Mercy of the Ruinous Cosmos. Would it be worth it? Could knowledge like that actually help her kill demons? Or would just serve to satisfy her own curiosity? Or worse, put her soul in harms way? Did her soul actually matter, compared to her oath of vengeance? Wasn't this the type of thing that devils wanted? To ruin that which was good, using people against themselves?

The paladin shook her head, trying to clear away the myriad of thoughts that chased each other through her mind. She had never been good at philosophy. She preferred her problems to be stand in front of her, so she could smite them with her hammer.   I wish I had never come here.  

But even that was a lie. If she had never come, she would not have met these humans, this small group who had quickly become a team, and even friends. She enjoyed their company, and would not forsake it. Even though it came with its own complications - Rathoran's tribe, Ganiz's family, Jegger's old man. Were those complications affecting her judgement? What if her new friends came between her and her oath?

  Enough!   Joan stood abruptly, saying   "I'm going to see if anybody needs healing. I'll be back soon."  

When Joan returned, she stripped off her armour and knelt at the foot of her cot.   "I will pray while you watch, Ganiz. Then I will relieve you."   Closing her eyes, she clasped her hands before her and prayed to her father.

 
 Spoiler 
Joan will offer cure wounds, lay on hands, or lesser restoration to any troops who need it. Assuming, of course, that none of us need healing first.
 
The Hellbug
  "Mmm,"   the innkeep assents.  As the others make their way towards sleeping, Ganiz makes himself comfortable, leans back against a conveniently-shaped rock, and begins his watch.  He can't quite put a finger on what the mercenary leader or devil could be keeping from them and so patiently discards the thought for now and looks up to gaze at the stars--the only nighttime pastime that has ever worked for him on the road.  They don't bring him any sudden or gratifying insight, but they do keep him awake until he's relieved of his post.
Awful
Finding Tannic, Joan is led to a medical tent, where the most injured of the mercenaries are laid to recover. Under their bandages, they have the ugly wounds of demon-claws or the more conventional punctures of arrow-wounds, and the starblooded paladin spends some time and energy fixing what she can. It seems if the Crossguard Company had magical healing, they've reserved it for those more important than the rank-and-file.

It's a curiously frustrating sensation - as if the pool of energy within her has gotten larger, or rather, as if there is a much greater expanse, just out of reach, and it's like a spigot has been opened up to allow just a bit more of her divine heritage to dip through.

Either way, eventually she returns to the little camp the party has made. The Proxy has loaned you a tent, an almost square thing of battered but tough canvas, to keep off some of the desert chill.

The stars Ganiz gazes upon are far and distant. There's not a cloud to spoil his view

Each of you sleeps, sooner or later. Each has a similar dream.

 You were not, and now you are.

You dream of being hungry. No, not hungry. Empty. Hollowed out. Your flesh, your bones, feel raw and rancid, even the lightest touch of air as salt upon wounds.

This world was not meant for you. It rejects you, shuddering at your touch. It is movement and noise and change and all of it scrapes against your being like broken glass.

Why has this been done to you?

You are so empty you gulp the air, even though it burns against you like acid, like drowning.

This can't be right.

You look upwards, craning your neck up through that turgid poison of the air. There is a shape that is not a shape, the size of the sky, and you hold up a hand to your parent in beseechment.

It looks at you, and in the galaxy-swirl of an eye, you see-

No love
for you
at
all-
 
At this point, you wake up, cold sweat clinging to you like ticks, finding a bitter tear gathered at the corner of your eye. But the feeling fades soon enough, and if further sleep is attempted, you find it assailed by more mundane nightmares instead.

In the morning, a trooper brings you a pail of soldier's porridge - that is, hard tack crumbled and boiled in water, making something almost food, and informa you the Third Proxy wants to see you when you're ready.
The Hellbug
Adrenaline rushes through Ganiz as he awakes, and his hand twitches for his sword...but it's only one of his companions waking him.  It takes him a second to get his bearing again; yes, the Crossguard Company camp, not whatever that horrible other place he had just witnessed--a terrible dream and nothing more.  The innkeep is no stranger to nightmares, but this one was new, and there was something else to it.  He can still almost feel the gaze of whatever that unimaginable thing was--not something he thought his own mind could come up with, at least.  But the sun is rising, and it's time to move.

And he's been ignoring his surroundings, there's someone holding out a warm drink for the innkeep.    "Mmhmm, thanks,"   he says distractedly, finally acknowledging his companion, before getting his things together and preparing for the group's departure.
Dr.Samurai
Jegger wakes up with an impossible sense of pain and longing, and he doesn't move for some time before eventually stirring from his position. The knot in his stomach becomes hunger at some point. He wakes Ganiz, and frowns sympathetically at the innkeep's reaction,   You too?   It seems he wasn't the only one with nightmares. He doesn't say more on it, hoping to distract himself with a meal. But when the food comes, Jegger finds himself without an appetite. He performs some weapon drills, and spars with some of the mercenaries if possible, waiting for the others to finish eating.
agignac
Joan arrived at the tent feeling empty, but unsatisfied. She had begun to doubt their decision to leave the tribes people alone for the day. The soldiers here had been fighting for a long time, that much was clear, and against a common foe. But to be allied with devils!

Joan's heart hurt, her head ached with confusion, and she was sorely in need of comfort and guidance. She prayed and meditated for a few hours before her watch, and it was past midnight before she crawled into her bedroll.

And then she had the most terrible nightmare. She awoke in a sweat, tears in her eyes, throat dry and aching.   Was that a dream of my father? Is that how the angels felt after the death of God?   Joan tried to pray, but she was out of words. Eventually she fell back into a fitful sleep, but woke in the morning feeling unrefreshed.

As she swallowed the familiar, unpalatable breakfast, she spoke of the dream, hesitantly at first, trying to find words that described the sensations. She found she was not surprised to see looks of recognition on the other's faces.   "Do you think it means anything, that we dreamt the same thing? Do you think it was a threat, or a warning?"  



When word came that the Third Proxy wanted to see them, Joan shouldered her bag, picked up her shield and warhammer, and followed their messenger out.
The Hellbug
  "Mmm, yeah,"   Ganiz replies to the barbarian,   "and not like any I had before.  It was...more real?"  

Joan's interest has him recount everything he remembers, and sure enough, it's the same dream.    "Definitely means something,"   Ganiz candidly theorizes,   "no offense meant to any of you, but none of you'd have dreams like me, and that wasn't me.  Could be any one of those things...or something else.  Felt like something being born, something terrible."    He trails off.  The innkeep could speculate more, and he glances uncomfortably at the scrap of cloth covering the devil's mark on his arm suspiciously, but he doesn't feel confident enough to make any further guesses at the moment.

  "Don't even know if it was on purpose, really."  
agignac
 
 Originally Posted by The Hellbug 
   "Mmm, yeah,"   Ganiz replies to the barbarian,   "and not like any I had before.  It was...more real?"  

Joan's interest has him recount everything he remembers, and sure enough, it's the same dream.    "Definitely means something,"   Ganiz candidly theorizes,   "no offense meant to any of you, but none of you'd have dreams like me, and that wasn't me.  Could be any one of those things...or something else.  Felt like something being born, something terrible."    He trails off.  The innkeep could speculate more, and he glances uncomfortably at the scrap of cloth covering the devil's mark on his arm suspiciously, but he doesn't feel confident enough to make any further guesses at the moment.

  "Don't even know if it was on purpose, really."   
 

It took Joan several seconds to fully realize the implications of what Ganiz was suggesting.   "You think it's possible we accidentally witnessed something that just happened? That .... birth....was actually last night?"   The very possibility sent a shiver of fear down her spine, and made her stomach clench around her tasteless breakfast. Turning pale (even for her), Joan carefully put her spoon down.   "I...I...   she stammered a bit, then finally managed,   "I think that would be bad. For everybody. We should go."  
Kushina43
Rathoran awakes from the nightmare with a start, Tira already wrapped around her finger for support.  She lifts that hand to see the flying snake, which calms and grounds her, looking around to see they're all still in the Crossguard camp.

She's first at the porridge, wanting anything in her system before the day starts, and everyone talking about the shared dream she chimes in " "For such a horrid dream to be shared in detail..  Yeah, I can believe it has somehow occurred and been shown to us.  If I had to hazard a guess, it's just another demonic thing to be ready to strike down, shown to dissuade or unnerve."  she steels herself with her interpretation, holding back her equally shared disgust so she does not continue the day on an empty stomach, and is likely the last to head out as a result.
The Hellbug
Ganiz shrugs noncommittally at the rest of the speculation.    "Could ask Tannic,"   he says as he stands,   "if it was something stirring, someone else mighta sensed it.  Might just convince him we're all mad or worse, though."  
  But if it's just us, and it's the demons...    The innkeep flexes his hand anxiously.  Best not even think about it.  He's has already made up his mind not to bring it up to any of the Crossguard soldiers, but he's curious enough not to dissuade any of his companions from doing so.
Awful
Perhaps to your surprise, the commanders of the Crossguard aren't inside the too-large room conjured by the devil. Instead, Tannic, Mordere, and a few men you can assume are sergeants of the company are gathered around a table.a crude map of the local area is drawn on the rough surface with charcoal, the location of various things marked with fat smudgy black crosses.

"-expect something tricksy," Tannic is saying. The one-armed man looks cheerful, gesturing with a small metal rod down to what you figure is Old Zarian.

Mordere gazes down on it, his old, sharp face giving nothing away. A tawny- haired cat is curled around his shoulders like a fur cape, watching with preternatural intelligence.

Seeing you approach, the various gathered men - most of which bear various unfriendly expressions to go along with the X scarred into each - begrudgingly make room for you at the table. Tannic grins.

"Morning! Hope you all slept well - busy day today. Enemies on the move - we figure they probably realised it's all-or-nothing today, so by the sounds of it they spent the night doing their witchcraft and today they're hitting us hard as they can. Probably hoping to break through - or maybe just that enough death will flow down to wake up our sleeper below, in a manner of sayin'."
agignac
 
 Originally Posted by Awful 
 "Morning! Hope you all slept well - busy day today. Enemies on the move - we figure they probably realised it's all-or-nothing today, so by the sounds of it they spent the night doing their witchcraft and today they're hitting us hard as they can. Probably hoping to break through - or maybe just that enough death will flow down to wake up our sleeper below, in a manner of sayin'." 
 

Joan thinks of the dream they shared last night, and shudders. She hopes it's a warning of a future that can yet be avoided, and not an accidental vision of something that had already happened.

Looking at the map, she says,   "Where would you like us? Searching for the final group on our own, or joining forces with you?"  
Awful
"Well, I'd personally say we're stronger together than apart, right? It's what let you pick them off in their groups, after all." Tannic gives you a grin. "Of course, with the light inf projectors, we'll probably be able to fry them as they come in, and they know that - so they've probably got something real tricksy and nasty planned."

He jabs his thumb over his shoulder towards the mostly-sealed mine entrance, a full squad now set around it in guarding.
"A better question might be if you want to try recovering the  object  below before they get here. If you manage, no risk of them getting their grubby hands on it even if they break through somehow. Course, if they lose their chance and can find that out, they might just scatter, and it could leave you with a mighty long chase."

The cat on Mordere's shoulders watches you, but it's eyes lack the molten gold the devil itself displayed. Infinite Mercy themself seems absent, but Mordere himself strikes a tall and sharp figure now you've seen him standing.

Mordere says with graveyard calm,   "You will be held to both aspects of your bargain, regardless."  

Where time had withered the mayor into himself like a drying fruit, the officer of the Crossguard had all softness of shape worn away, until he was all lines and granite expression. A heavy-looking sword is buckled at his waist. Presumably, he's intending to fight.
agignac
Joan thought about Tannic's words. She thought about the dream.   "Perhaps we should try to find the holy object. That way, we can't all be taken out together, leaving them free to search for it."   And with luck and blessing, we can find whatever was birthed last night, if indeed something was, and stop it before it reaches the surface.   "If we need to chase down the remnants later, we shall do so. I, at least, am well-used to that."   She looked to her friends for their thoughts.
Dr.Samurai
Jegger walks over to review the map that Tannic and the others were looking at. He looks up at Joan when she suggests going down into the mine, and he quietly nods his head in agreement.

 
 Spoiler 
Can Jegger make anything out by looking at the map?
 
The Hellbug
  "As if we need reminding..."   Ganiz mutters recalcitrantly at Mordere's words, but all the same he casts the worried look at the map.  Personally, the innkeep would prefer to stay on the surface and deal with the demons and cultists here--if the demon below has laid dormant since the king's death without a problem, it certainly seems like the less pressing issue.  Plus, what he actually cares about isn't underground.  However, between his discomfort with last night's dream and a general sense of the way the wind is blowing, he engages with the current plan.

  "Well that's a thought,"   he adds,   "the other day we chased some of the cultists into some caves out in the desert, caves that didn't seem natural.  Have you all been down into the Old Zarian mines?  How far do they go?"  