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ylvathrall's Wrath of the Righteous [IC]

Mavris comes over to aid the blind elf, pulling his arm over her shoulder while speaking to the woman, "And if not his cane, then I'll carry you if I have to. I assure you, no one is getting left behind to the demons. The both of you just focus on gathering whatever strength you can manage." She assess the entire group, counting the number of faces but noticing Renee isn't to be found among them. She tries not to dwell on it too much. From what her darkvision can make out so far, there doesn't seem to be body.

Yes, she's probably up there with the half-orc right now, helping to protect Kenabres. Just like she would've wanted.

She lets that calming thought remain in her head while bringing the blind elf over to Kasumi, "Do you mind taking over for me with him? I'll volunteer for taking point while we find our way out of these goddess-forsaken caverns."
 
Nodding, Kasumi does her best to help support the elf in Mavris' stead, unable to just not take him as he's handed over. She didn't seem particularly perturbed by his wound, but she did look at him pitifully, and scowl at Ludovic as he offered to execute the human. "I...probably should scout ahead. I am not very sneaky, but I am faster than most." Of course, she was about as observant as a deaf bat, but that never stopped her. "But she is right, no one is going to be left behind. I will help get everyone somewhere safe."
 
A groan from the rubble marks the awakening of a sixth survivor. It takes a few seconds for her to unbury herself from the heap of shingles she'd apparently ridden down, but she has it mostly done on her own before anyone can get close enough. Sharp ears, delicate bones, taller and lighter than most of others—the elven blood is hard to miss. But she doesn't have quite the otherworldly quality that marks their new friend with no eyeballs. A mutt then.

"By the gods..." she croaks once she gets a good view of where they are. It's a very particular view, lying on her back on a heap of shattered terra cotta, gazing up into an eternity of darkness. But it's an informative one. "I'm buried. No, we are? Were there voices...? Hello?" The shingles clatter as she works her way off them, and a bit more when she has to go back for her satchel—the strap had been cut through, apparently. And little surprise. The woman has enough slashes all over, she smells bloody, though none seem to be deep enough to interfere with her movements. She goes gingerly, though, especially until she manages to fish out a flint and a candle. It'll take her a bit to light it, but even the first few sparks bring a smile to her face when she sees the others standing. Redhead, looks like.

"Oh thank heavens. This would be so much worse alone. Do any of you know how the battle is going, above? They've never made it this close before, and even the emergency drills were never—Mother Sun!" She'd been continuing to strike the flint as she went, and only just succeeded in lighting her candle. Which, of course, means she only just saw the condition of the two most wounded. She nearly puts the flame out again in her rush to get over to them.
 
Kyrnse is able to identify the break as a bad fracture to the lower leg. It will require a splint to walk at all, even with the cane, and even so, the human woman will be reduced to a hobbled pace. But despite her best efforts, she can't figure out how to make a splint that will work for a break in that particular location, especially with how limited the materials available are - it will have to be constructed out of the rubble that fell with you.

As for the elf, his eyes are burned out entirely, and there are bad burns across his face. Fixing his vision is something that would require powerful healing magic, far beyond her reach, and infection is a very real concern. But he's in no immediate danger.

"If I die, I die on my feet," the hobbled woman says. "My name is Anevia, by the way. Anevia Tirabade. Don't think we've - agh - met." She takes the cane and stands, but will clearly be unable to walk without falling, even with its support.

"Aravashnial," the elf says. "And no, you won't be scouting ahead. I need you to be my eyes." This is directed at Kasumi, in an imperious tone, like the idea of her disobeying simply doesn't occur to him at all.
 
Pursing her lips at the elf's tone, the tiefling is clearly displeased, but compassion for his condition wins out over indignation at his presumption of authority in the end. "I will help how I can, but if there is a danger ahead, you will be safer staying back while I deal with the problem," she explains gently. Glancing toward Anevia, having no medical training whatsoever, there's little that she can offer to help, not having much on her, but as introductions are made, she gives her name without stopping to think about whether or not she should. "Onishi Kasumi...I visited Kenabres once, a couple of years ago, but I do not think I met any of you?" Even as she says it, however, she looks curiously towards Mavris, as if uncertain.
 
Mavris turns back to all of them and nods. "Mavris Vorn. Honored to fight by your side."

The tiefling eyes Kasumi, eyebrows furrowing as she tries to recall a mental image. She eyes the more subtle details of Kasumi: the shape of her face, her hair, her weapon, her tone of voice. "You remind me of someone I used to know." Mavris points to the katana strapped to the infernal's person, "She was a master of that very weapon you have there, taking great pride in her mastery of it."

As she gets a better look at Ludovic and Kyrnse, her tongue clicks with realization, "I definitely remember you two, though. Ludovic Dragos," she then nods to the cleric, "and Kyrnse Veratuunen." Heard about the both of you through my father's work. The thing's you two've done for the practices of planar research and divine healing is incredible! My father would be overjoyed if he were here now."
 
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Hearing Mavris' comments about her katana, Kasumi glances down toward it as it hits her, "Oh! I think we did meet, when I was here last...I look a little different now though," she comments without elaborating on it too much, though her formerly black hair and golden eyes, now white and blood red respectively were the most obvious visual changes. "It...is complicated. And part of why I came back to the city. But we will talk later, taking care of these two is more important, so how do I help?" Obviously, she didn't consider being Aravashniel's seeing eye dog to be all she could contribute to the cause, even if it was a fitting role for the wolf-eared girl.
 
Kyrnse frowns at that, mostly out of ruffled modesty, but there's a suspicious edge to it. "Thank you, ah, Mavris. But I think you've gotten me confused for my mentor. I'm barely initiated, I'm afraid. And that," she continues, turning her attention back to the injured. Her tone goes regretful at an astonishing pace. "—is going to make this difficult. I can't make either of you whole again. I'm so sorry. But I'll make sure you get out of this pit and into the care of someone who can. I promise!"

After that, though, she stops, and the way she looks back and forth between them is clearly distressed. "Ohhh, I hate triage," the girl mutters to herself. It's a lot easier to hear in the relative silence of the cavern than perhaps she realized. She looks startled at her own voice, at least. "But we need to make haste. No one's getting better if we're stuck in this hole. Bite this."

Before Anevia can even make sense of the handkerchief abruptly thrust into her hands, Kyrnse has dropped to her knees and grasped the woman's injured leg. It'd be a stretch to say she sets the bone, but she does at least straighten the pieces a bit with that sharp tug, an instant before her murmured prayer becomes a rush of warmth and fuses things together again.
 
Anevia doesn't seem confused, at all, by the handkerchief. She instantly pops it into her mouth and bites down, and she...doesn't scream as the bones shift into something closer to place. The pain has to be immense, but she doesn't scream, only a muffled grunt coming from her mouth. As the healing warmth rushes through her mangled leg, torn flesh heals and bones fuse somewhat. The leg still looks rather misshapen, but when she takes a tentative step on it with the cane, she manages to hold her weight up.

She spits the handkerchief out and nods to Kyrnse. "Thank you," she says, and there's a depth of...sincerity in her voice that Kyrnse has rarely heard with those words. "Still hurts, but I should be able to limp out of here. It's not mended enough to scout ahead safely, or I'd volunteer. 'S what I do. But I can at least take over as Aravashniel's eyes. Here." She gently nudges Kasumi aside and steps up, leaning on the cane and the elf to keep her balance. "Lessgo."

Looking around the cavern, you see a handful of scattered silver scales, each the size of a grown man's palm - or the smallest, tenderest scales of an ancient silver dragon. Each of you sees one, and each one vibrates, urging you closer, calling to you on a base level.

When you touch the scale, you feel a deep thrumming in your bones. It speaks of power, of sudden violence, and of battle undertaken to defend the innocent - but there's a shadow in it. A glimmer of roiling darkness, a scent of burning hair, a taste of rotting blood. You understand, instinctively, that the scale can be used to align your weapons with sacred law, though it will only function a few times per day before it has to recharge its potent magics.

When you touch the scale, you feel a deep thrumming in your bones. It speaks of disguise, of inflitration, and of secret efforts to shield the innocent - but there's a shadow in it. A glimmer of roiling darkness, a scent of burning hair, a taste of rotting blood. You understand, instinctively, that the scale can be used to shift your bodily form, though it will only function a few times per day before it has to recharge its potent magics.

When you touch the scale, you feel a deep thrumming in your bones. It speaks of flight, of soaring, and of looking down upon the liars and thieves from a distance great enough that they can be seen as innocents - but there's a shadow in it. A glimmer of roiling darkness, a scent of burning hair, a taste of rotting blood. You understand, instinctively, that the scale can be used to lift yourself up on a pillar of cloud, though it will only function a few times per day before it has to recharge its potent magics.

When you touch the scale, you feel a deep thrumming in your bones. It speaks of protection, of shelter, and of guiding the innocent to safety - but there's a shadow in it. A glimmer of roiling darkness, a scent of burning hair, a taste of rotting blood. You understand, instinctively, that the scale can be used to shelter yourself from the cold and the thunder, though it will only function a few times per day before it has to recharge its potent magics.
 
"I thank you for the flattery Ms. Vorn, but my contributions are hardly something to write into the history books. I would be happy to continue this conversation once the hostilities have ceased, at which point I believe I offered you a drink to celebrate your victory over the Amaud daughter."

After pocketing the scale, and with everyone seemingly settled for the moment, Ludovic will gesture to the tunnel he spotted. "Ms. Onishi, if you would be so kind as to lead the way."
 
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Kyrnse only fretfully withdraws from Aravishniel, despite her inability to really treat his wounds under the current circumstances. She actually stumbles across Terendelev's scale in the midst of anxiously casting about for a distraction. And that gets a clearly pained cry out of her before she manages to tamp the reaction down. Bit of a soft touch, apparently.

"Ah, yes. Yes. We should get a move on. This would be a very bad time to dawdle. The invasion is guaranteed to agitate the mongrels, even if the demons don't come down here and try to rally them. I'd press ahead, but..." Kyrnse nods at the candle she holds, still the only light source down here.
 
Moving forward, the tunnel twists and turns and slopes up and down. There are two branches off of it, but one is collapsed, and the other turns out to just be a pocket that doesn't go anywhere.

Following the path, you reach a larger, open cavern. Twenty feet up on a ledge to the side is another body, a crusader, with a heavy pack. The rock is slick leading up to it, but conceivably climbable. Above, there's a crevice leading upwards, but it's closed off just like the one you fell through - it doesn't reach the surface, it seems.
 
"A drink we'll definitely be having." She says firmly. "All of us!"

Mavris clutches the white scale in her hand and though she shudders at the visceral mental images it gives her, but she manages to pin down her fear and speaks, "Even in death, Terendelev watches over us all."

As the group reaches the cavern, Mavris eyes the heavy pack on the fallen crusader's body. "I'll get it. Hopefully the fallen might have some medicine that could spare Anevia some pain."She stows away her weapon and shield, and leaps right at the wall with a running start, hoping to have her fingers find purchase on any crags that might be embedded into the rock.

The tiefling attempts to ascend the rock, eager to check the pack's contents, but the moment she does so, she slips and plummets right down to the ground, landing flat on her rear. Her cheeks are flush with embarrassment as she regards the rest of her companions.
 
Kasumi felt drawn to one scale in particular, closing her fist around it as best she could as she brought it to her chest to offer a silent prayer for the dragon's soul to Shelyn before she realized what the scale was capable of. And in that moment of revelation, she did the only thing that seemed reasonable at the time and did her best to affix the scale to her saya with the cord on the scabbard before moving forward to scout ahead. Unfortunately, she didn't spot anything of note before noticing the crusader body up on a ledge, but Mavris makes an effort to climb before she even has a chance to open her mouth. Though it ends poorly enough that Kasumi has to stifle a laugh, not wanting to seem rude.

"I am not very good at scaling cliffs, but I will try as well."

Luckily, the tiefling makes it a fair bit higher off the ground than Mavris did...unluckily, she thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye and reached for it instead of the next hand hold and promptly lost her balance, falling backward and off the ledge in the process, and where Mavris landed on her ass, Kasumi landed on her back, suffering a light blow to the head as light fades from her eyes again and she blacks out.
 
Mavris looks on with horror as the wolf-eared infernal lies there unresponsive and she hurriedly crawls over to her and places a hand on Kasumi's forehead. A divine aura surges from the tiefling and into Kasumi's body she speaks out a prayer, "Goddess, I plead for your aid. Reach down from the heavens and reinvigorate this embattled soul!"

[Mavris uses Spontaneous Casting to heal Kasumi for 7 HP!]
 
Kyrnse sighs and indulges in a few seconds of massaging her forehead before stepping up to the rock. "You might have asked," she says, resting a hand on the pouch she'd tucked the dragonscale into. The incantation that comes next sounds a bit like gibberish, being recited in gnomish. And it is totally unnecessary, for that matter, but there are procedures for this sort of thing. Surely.

Mist gathers around the half-elf's ankles and she immediately begins to rise into the air, occasionally grabbing at a passing spur of rock to adjust her distance to the slope.
 
Blinking her eyes open, Kasumi's ears go flat as she looks around sheepishly, blushing in intense embarrassment as she brings a hand up to rub at the back of her head feeling mortified at how much of a liability she just made herself appear to be. "Ahh...thank you...I must have slipped and fallen farther than I thought..."
 
"Don't worry about it. We're just glad you're safe." She then turns to respond to Kyrnse, "We were getting around to --"

Mavris' jaw opens wide when she sees the half elf cleric floating upward as if she were some sort of seraphim. Or a saint. "By Terendelev's wingspan! So this is the power of the Sarenraean faith!"
 
"Underside of the neck, I think," Kyrnse called down. "The wing scales are a lot stiffer." There's something more, but only mumbled to herself as she leans in to take a look at the casualty.
 
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The crusader is very, very dead, open gashes all along his body and a broken neck. There's nothing you can do for him.

Inside the pack, you see several things. Caltrops and rations are the most obvious, followed by two flasks of oil and a small quiver of arrows. Buried under it all, you spot two sturdy glass flasks.

Masterwork backpack, one unit.
Caltrops, one unit.
Trail rations, ten units.
Oil, two units.
Arrows, twelve.
Potions, two.
 
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