Neile squeezes Ulfr's hand and looks up at him with hopeful eyes. "We're gonna get out of here, right?" she asks quietly.
Ulfr smiles. Definitely. He says with complete confidence.
The hours pass as stories are passed back and forth. You learn that Anevia is married to Irabeth Tirablade who exposed a traitor in the crusader ranks last year. She relates tales of her travels and how Irabeth helped her out in a difficult spot. Aravashnial is a wizard of some skill with a special interest in conjuration. Most of his tales are from his apprenticeship and are quite funny, though he seems to avoid Anevia altogether and does his best to not anger Horgus. Horgus, however, is gruff, taciturn, and surly throughout the entire time you are traveling.
About eight hours after you start, everyone, especially Anevia and Aravashnial, is exhausted from the arduous trek in the Underdark. You find a defensible cave to camp in for the night as some dried mushrooms that Aravashnial confirms can be used as firewood. The air is cold and still, and the looming rock above you weighs down on the very soul.
Ulfr keeps a steady rhythm as the group walks. It's not loud enough to interfere with conversation or stories, but it's there. It keeps everyone in step and keeps them all going just a little farther.
In general he just keeps everyone talking. He relishes stories and even tells a few ancient Sarkoran parables himself, but he mainly acts to keep everyone engaged.
As he beds down, he plays one final song on his large, hollow club using two smaller clubs. It is good entertainment and inspiring. It tugs at your tired bones and lights a fire in your blood.
Ulfr definitely feels worse for the wear the next morning, although not too terribly bad.
Rakeesh trudges along, nearly indefatigable, though sweating more than he is accustomed to in the dank caverns, and in the throws of sickness. After midday, though, his fever breaks and he begins to feel much better.
Once the mushroom stalks are well aflame, Rakeesh spends a long time staring into the heart of the fire. The ghouls and their priest are dead. Vengeance has been served. The flames crackle on without response.
Karas stays near Ulfr and Neille keeping pace and responding when asked but mostly seems lost in his thoughts.
The scene of the past days played in his head again. It was still hard to accept but the rythm kept his feet moving in time. She's gone but never forgottem. You're only forgotten when noone speaks your name. I will never let her be forgotten and the Storm King will pay dearly. Even if I have to dredge the Abyss to end his miserable existence.
He snapped from his thoughts as they began to make camp and gathered the mushroom wood for the fire. He ate a bit of dried meat from his pack before sleeping and hoping the worst of it was over only to know it wasn't.
Neile tilts her head at Anevia's story, a look of utmost puzzlement on her face. "Does it get confusing?" she asks. "When you meet new people, do they call you 'Mrs. and Mrs. Tirablade'? How do they know which Mrs. is which? D'you think she's okay up there?" Her confused expression crumbles into sorrow, and she strokes Gail's feathers for comfort.
She giggles at most of Aravashnial's tales, poking him in the shoulder. "You're funny when you're not being so serious," she grins. "Have to stay smiling!"
She engages little with Horgus, for fear of Slaver's voice whispering in her ear again.
Every now and then, in a moment of silence, she recounts a short memory - of gnolls tearing someone apart in Katapesh, or of a good hunt and a long winter's sleep, speaking as if from her own experience.
As the group beds down, she again offers Anevia her blanket - "Not much, but it'll keep you soft and warm" - and curls up under her heavy coat, next to Tehina this time. "'M jus' gonna sleep here, 'f that's 'kay with you," she mumbles, not waiting for a response before slipping into fitful slumber.
Bimbur listens to the stories with interest, and seems somewhat concerned at Anevia's story.
"I assume were there is one traitor, there may be more. The Crusaders may be infiltrated.'
While listening to the tales, Tchriash tries to determine why Aravashnial is avoiding Anevia and trying hard not to anger Horgus.
After everyone seems to be settling, she looks about one more time making sure they're not followed.
"I think the worst of it has passed," Rakeesh says in his convalescence. "Although you look like another day's rest wouldn't hurt," he says to Ulfr.
"I will take the first watch. I have... more... than just infirmities of the body to work through." Rakeesh draws his sword, spinning it into a guard, and moves towards the cavern entrance. After he moves out of range of the torchlight, the sounds of the blade slicing through the air as Rakeesh shadow-spars filter back into the cave.
Karas eats and lays out his bedroll feeling somewhat better. "Wake me for the second watch. some quiet time to think will be nice I think."
Ulfr volunteers for third watch and wakes Nelie to accompany him.
Tchirash will take the last watch. If someone pairs up, she will also do her prayers during that time.
Bimbur takes middle watch for dark vision to be useful.
You find yourself in a dark room, the only light from two glowing coals that seem to stare through you.
"Hello Rakeesh," a deep rumbling voice says, coming from the same direction as the coals, which you notice are eyes, "even you should have noticed my absence today, so tell me, what have you to say for yourself?"
The "night" passes slowly, and without trouble. Both Anevia and Aravashnial are beginning to look better, although both still have their more crippling injuries. Sadly, no breakfast awaits this morning.
Ulfr feels cool that "morning", but seeks out Nelie at her time of... meditation. Will you guide me in the song of your spirits, Little One?
Bimbur takes out a spicy sandwich and begins to eat breakfast quietly.
Karas quietly watches on his shift with bimbur. He clutches the scale while thinking to himself.
Come morning he asks Bimbur while chewing on more dried meat, "You came from a monastery right? How does that meditation stuff work?"
Bimbur shakes his head sadly. "Not much to do, but study and think about things. One of the monks called it a voluntary prison."
Then Bimbur brightens up. "But then they let me shoot a bow. Now being slow doesn't mean so much when you can shoot an arrow where you want it."
Karas looks a bit confused, "I see. But I know what involuntary prison is like so I don't know how to compare it. I was just wondering if that meditation stuff could help me gain some clarity or something."
Neile's sitting against the cavern wall, huddled under her coat when Ulfr approaches, like a child reading under her blankets with a sunrod. She pokes her head out, glaring at him. "Shhhhhh," she whispers, scowling. Then, gentler, "Under here. No singing. But you can listen." With that, she throws the coat over his head as well.
What follows is a lot of awkward, incoherent muttering, fidgeting (including accidentally elbowing Ulfr in the head once or twice) and long pauses - hardly singing the song of her spirits. At one point, she whimpers, clutching her knees to her chest and burying her face between them. Her shoulders shake as she clenches her fists, long, bony claws growing from her knuckles. When she throws off her coat and pulls it on normally, the claws remain; she turns them over, looking at them in the eerie fungus light.
"Look, Scaly-Man!" she calls, grinning her usual lopsided grin at Karas. "They're like yours!" Looking back up at Ulfr as she wakes her pets, she adds, "This is Bear's way of helping. Slaver shows me where to hit people to hurt them, which is useful. People don't look at you so funny when you don't have claws." She counts off on her claws as she continues. "There's also Shaman, he's really wise. He doesn't talk much, though. Then there's Prince; he's funny! And- and Killer." She swallows hard, looking at the ground. "Killer's scary. But Bear is nice. He's old, but he cares. And this is how he helps. He's also good at breaking stuff. Today, with him helping, I'll be good at breaking stuff, too."
Ulfr inspects the claws without the slightest awkwardness. He isn't sure exactly what he just experienced, but it's effects were obvious. The girl just needed some lessons is all. These are well made, little one. Several of my tribe could manifest claws as well, though they tended to resemble eagle talons and not persist as yours do. May you use them well.
Hearing Karas and Bimbur talk about meditation Tehina can't help but comment, "Meditation does not require monastery's or much study. All you need to do is pull your focus inward, centre yourself. An easy way to try is to find yourself a quiet place, sit down, close your eyes and focus completely on your breathing or your heartbeat."
places her hands on her stomach and closes her eyes, "You should try to breath through your belly and keep a stead pace."
Tchirash takes the last watch, letting everyone else sleep. At the end of the watch, she rouses everyone. "Time to be moving, we've a city to get to."
Karas nods to Tehina, "I'll give that a try next time we camp I suppose."
Karas then gives Neille a confused look before smiling, "They sure are." He says ruffling her hair.
He then packs up and makes ready to move on.
The feelings are vague, but there are distinct feelings that you can match to each of the spirits she mentions. Slaver feels like hatred and self-aggrandizement. Killer like despair and a longing to cause fear in others. The Prince like mischief and cunning wit. The shaman feels like sitting in front of a campfire, listening to the songs of your ancestors and learning the wisdom of your elders.
But it is Bear that is most startling. A sense of ancient wisdom and memory fills you when you feel Bear about. You can't be certain, but this might be one of the ancient spirits of Sarkois you seek.
During the seance, you feel as if there's a connection to Ulfr through Shaman and Bear, as if something about the man rouses long held memories of a time before the Demons.
"Stay near this one," Shaman murmurs, "he is of the old blood."
"Agreed," Bear grumbles softly, "perhaps when you have gained more control over the power you wield, we can be a boon to both of you."
As the group moves through the caverns, Aravashnial speaks up.
"Um, Neile, was it? Can you tell me more about how you contact those spirits of yours? Maybe even when it started, if that's not too much trouble."
"What's there to know," Horgus grumbles just loudly enough to be heard, "she's a freak!"
"Shall I tell you the story of 'Nameless'?" Rakeesh replies. "I was shackled and diseased and dying, outnumbered and outmatched... Even with all of my tremendous strength, I could not bring my fist to bear against that abomination. Yet, I destroyed him. I brought vengeance upon him!"
"What more could I have done?"
Rakeesh continues to sleep fitfully late into the morning, seemingly deaf to the sounds of the rest stirring...
The eyes flare with holy fire, briefly letting you glimpse his face.
This is indeed Ragathiel, and he is not happy.
"You spoke as if you had given up, offering to lead those abominations to slaughter and feast upon those that remain in Kenebres," the Empyreal Lord says simply, "You may have sown the discord that lead to it, but it was not by your hand Torag's fallen priest met his doom."
The eyes narrow.
"So tell me, my foolish servant, did you truly mean to join them if you had not been given salvation by your comrades?"
Karas glared at Horgus, "We're all freaks Gwerm. some just show it better on the outside. I doubt you're free of any claim to that word."
"I've seen noble. You're hardly doing the title justice."
Ulfr gasps as he comes out from Nelie's little dream. He stares for a moment, then says, You are truly blessed, little one. The Spirits are strong with you. Whether for good or ill is unimportant. A truly gifted seer possesses shades of both.
To Horgus, he piggy backs on Karas's insult.
In the lands of my youth, the spirits are not domant, as they are in places where man has heaped up mountains and conquered the fields. In the land of my youth, you are the freak.
"He's not that old," Neile mutters to her 'friends'. "Not like you. But... if you say so. Memories mingling, times changing..." She shrugs, helping Twitch back into her tattered scarf. "Come on, you crazy kids," she chuckles, lifting her hat and shaking gail out of her hair. "Can't hide there!" When Karas ruffles her hair, she giggles, squirming away from the touch like a child. "Not so big, though. You're a lot lot bigger."
She continues to stick close to Ulfr as the group continues on, pondering Bear and Shaman's words. When Aravashnial asks his question, she turns to look at him, walking backwards as she ponders an answer, but Horgus' interruption makes her slam her mouth shut, swallowing hard in shame.
"They said the same thing, you know," she says quietly. "I was happy with my friends, until They told me I was a Freak, a Liability, that I was Dangerous. That was when I ran, and I never stopped running, never stopped hiding. I'm one of the many, the few. The lonely lost who linger in the lives you leave behind, we find our way alone on the roads and in the streets and we roam and weep and sleep alone. We hide because of people like you, people who brush us away, dismiss us, because we're Different, we're Wrong, we're Freaks!" She stamps one foot and turns back to face the front, staring ahead with a stony expression as she continues. "She was a scared little girl, not sure what was wrong with her, until she ran. Then she had nobody to help, and she despaired, shared her pain with no-one. Nobody helped, nobody cared, nobody saw. She waited and she watched and she hoped but nobody noticed, so she never got better, if there was any chance of it in the first place. She's cold, and she's hungry, and she's alone and scared, because she's a Freak. But she has company. Oh yes," she whispers, "lots of company. Because they never sleep, do they? The dead don't need to sleep."
Taking a deep, shaky breath, she adds to Aravashnial, "Eight winters passed in silence, then the whispers began. Soft at first, but louder as the nights grew longer. I talk to them all the time, and they talk to me. Not talking to myself, there's always someone to listen. There's five. All are different. They all help. But Slaver was the first. He used to hurt people, when he was alive. But now that I'm alive and he's not, he tries to make me hurt people, instead. He helps me use my fists, a walking weapon. When I hit someone, he knows where to hit them again to make them hurt even more. He's cruel, and he shows me scary things, scary memories of what he did to people... but the streets are rough, and he helps me be rougher."
Tchirash wheels on Horgus, "She's no freak. She's more aware, maybe than any of us. And...she's one of the only things that stood between you and being a feast for those ghouls. I would think twice about getting on her bad side, lest you find that protection waning. Not even half your age, and she's thrown herself into combat, for your sake. You may wish to take that into consideration when addressing her, or talking ill about her in the future."
"You spoke as if you had given up, offering to lead those abominations to slaughter and feast upon those that remain in Kenebres," the Empyreal Lord says simply.
"I spoke because no other weapon was afforded me! And I sundered my enemies more completely with my tongue, than I was able to manage with my sword."
"You may have sown the discord that lead to it, but it was not by your hand Torag's fallen priest met his doom."
"Those creatures were slaves to the will of Nameless for years beyond counting. How many more decades, centuries, eons might he have ruled? No, it was not my own hand that leveled the killing blow, but even you must admit it was by my will that he is destroyed."
Rakeesh chances a look into the eyes. "We were routed. My companions were chained to the wall around me. The others fled... a broken woman, a blind elf, and a rancorous nobleman - following a novice mage and a mind-splintered waif. I had every reason to lose hope, to surrender. And yet, I set upon my enemies, broke their lines, and destroyed their leader."
"I do not know who or what that creature was, that appeared with my allies. I do not know why she fought on our side, or why she vanished into the darkness after the last ghoul fell. I confess, I had put no thought to being rescued by mysterious apparitions with enormous swords."
The eyes narrow. "So tell me, my foolish servant, did you truly mean to join them if you had not been given salvation by your comrades?"
Rakeesh shouts. "I personally felled two of the abhorrent things, turned their general, and unseated their lord. Even if that wanderer had never appeared, they would all have lay dead at my feet before long. What greater bane could I have inflicted on them?"
"It seems I misjudged you, Rakeesh," Ragathiel says, a hint of mirth edging his words, "It is not often a mortal will stand to an Empyreal Lord, mush less one who had so recently found himself a subject of that Lord's displeasure."
Smoky red light begins to glow from braziers in the large hall. The light shines on Rakeesh and his lord. Ragathiel reaches out and hauls the paladin to his feet.
"A cunning tongue and a sharp mind are devestating weapons, and you did plant the seeds of discord among them, but those are dangerous weapons to your allies as well. Consider what might have happened if one of them had thought you had given in to despair," he says, much more seriously this time, "you are a one of the holy warriors blessed with divine power. Here in these lands infected by the Abyss, people look to you for leadership, strength, and courage. Show them that they do not look in vain, my servant. Do not forget that your words have an effect on more than just those you wish them to."
Ragathiel places a hand on Rakeesh's forehead. Divine fire once more flows through you.
"Turn your enemies against each other, but never give up. Never surrender. Spit defiance until the bitter end. This is what it means to serve me."
With that, you find yourself awake, your connection restored, and a little of what was taken from you given back.
Bimbur readies his equipment and takes the lead again. Content to be the first in and the last out.
Monks are always faithful -- Semper Fidelis
Rakeesh wakes suddenly to find his companions already dressed, armed, and ready to move. Have I diminished so much that I am almost forgotten?
He stands to find several of his allies aggressively surrounding Horgus. "What has happened?" he asks the others. Even though the air in the cavern hangs perfectly still, Rakeesh's limp, gray hair stirs as though caught in a breeze. "We've only just gained our freedom and regained our health. Now is not the time to tear ourselves apart."
"He called me a freak," Neile mutters sullenly, kicking at a pebble and not making eye contact with anyone. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can hurt forever." She pulls her coat tightly around herself, blinking rapidly and keeping her eyes on the ground. "She never wanted it, never asked for it, but it came anyway and she can't get rid of it, so she tries to help, and only ends up hurt."
She glances at Rakeesh, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, before frowning and tilting her head to the side. She pulls at his arm, half-leading, half-dragging him to stand next to Tchirash, where she stares at them both, tilting her head to the other side. She looks from one to the other, eyes wide and owl-like. "You're like her," she says finally. "She shines more brightly, but you're..." She falters, struggling for words. "She's the sun, the stars, the light that warms always. You're... you're embers under coal. Just need to breathe more." Curiosity apparently overcoming her despair, she grins, clapping her hands together twice. "See, I told you!"
"Nobody is tearing anything apart, Rakeesh. While you were sleeping, we were readying ourselves, and Horgus made unfair comments about Neile. I was just calmly reminding him that she was one of the few of us here that are protecting him, and should be afforded more respect. She smiles at Horgus, "I'm sure it is just the pressure of being caught down here. It makes us all forget ourselves and strike out at allies, but rest assured, we will see you out of this, and to your home."
She walks the few steps to Neile and places a hand on her shoulder giving a light squeeze, "High praise indeed, and I will try to live up to them. She smiles at the waif, "I will find it easier if I can rely on your spirits and your wisdom."
She looks back at the rest of them, "Are we ready to find a way out of this place?"
Once she gets an affirmative, she'll lead the way out.
Rakeesh's hair whips away from his face as if pulled by a full gale. "Beware your tongue, Lord Horgus. I know first hand how powerful the right words can be."
Rakeesh looks down at his gaunt hands and grey pallor. "The fire is gone, child. Even the embers have expired. All that remains is ash." His hair settles back flat, though occasionally a strand will float away on an unknown breeze. "Perhaps something can rekindle it... in time."
Neile giggles, clutching Tchirash's hand briefly. "It's hard to miss. Too bright to look at, too bright to look away. Not old enough to be wise, but old enough to help!"
Looking at Rakeesh again, she shakes her head. "Nonono. It's there. Just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there. I can see it, though. See it here, and here." She points to her eyes, then to her heart, smiling.
"Gotta get out. There's a big big sky up there, waiting for us."
Horgus grumbles, but doesn't seem to say anything else on the matter. Another hour or so passes with Anevia and Aravashnial talking to everyone, trying to learn more about each of you.
It's difficult to tell in the dark, but it seems that you are slowly heading up. However, this is spoiled by the feeling you get as you enter another network of tunnels and caves.
Spent 20 years from age 6 to 26 in a cage in a dark room alone except for rotating guards that never spoke to him.
(Feel free to read my background in my profile. I actually liked writing it for once lol.)
Distantly related to Terendelev.
+2 stone
Neile has little more to tell of herself. She giggles when asked where she's from - "From here, silly!" After a moment, she adds, "Well, not here. Up there," pointing to the cavern ceiling.
As Ulfr tells his tales of Sarkoris, she listens raptly, hoping Bear and Shaman are listening as well. At one point, she reaches for his sleeve, before attempting to curl her small, bird-boned fingers through his, sticking close to the big man the whole while.