Bink's WotR part 2: The Gray Garrison and beyond!

[DarkOne-Rob]

Spoiler: Sparring, Round 3, Filburn's Status

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Filburn Crow
Male Neutral Good Half-Elf Bladed Arcanist, Level 6, Mythic 1, Init 8, HP 59/59 (36 Nonlethal Damage), Speed 30 ft.
AC 20, Touch 12, Flat-footed 18, CMD 20, Fort 4, Ref 4, Will 5, CMB +8, Base Attack Bonus 3
Black Blade +2 Falcata "Baerlyon, Demon-Foe" +10 (1d8+7, 19-20/x3)
+1 Chain Shirt, +1 Blinding Light Steel Shield (+5 Armor, +2 Shield, +2 Dex, +1 Deflect)
Abilities Str 20, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 13, Wis 10, Cha 9
Condition Arcane Reservoir 6/9 Uses Available
Black Blade Arcane Pool 2/2 Available
Mythic Powers 5/5 Available

"Agh! Good hit," cries Filburn as he falls back. "Morevek, you're in!" says the half-elf as he sheathes his weapon and bows to Grace. "Next round I will prepare before we start...ow..."

Spoiler: Combat Mechanics

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That's enough damage to back off and let the next fighter give it a go. @JWallyR, your turn.

[MuffinMan]

Seeing that Auror-... err, Grace is well underway in her sparring session with Filburn and Morevek, Waylan goes in search of answers. He seeks out the wisest person he knows at the fort - the sage Aravashnial. On gaining an audience with him, he relays his concern. "Master Aravashnial, there seems to be a... problem with Aurora. You see, she doesn't recognize that name at all - she calls herself 'Grace' now and seemingly has no memory her adventures with us or her life before we rescued her. At least her handiness with a blade hasn't left her..." The former woodsman shakes his head. "It's as though there's something... someone else living in Aurora's skin, now. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Could this be some strange side effect of exposure to the Abyss? My heart tells me she means us no harm, yet I cannot but shiver if this were part of some demonic plot... You recall how the sorceress Vorlesh let us go, don't you? By the gods, why would she do such a thing...?"

[JWallyR]

"Agh! Good hit," cries Filburn as he falls back. "Morevek, you're in!" says the half-elf as he sheathes his weapon and bows to Grace. "Next round I will prepare before we start...ow..."

Morevek raises one eyebrow, but nods at Filburn, gliding forward to square against the paladin. He extends the flat of his blade with a modest bow, waiting for her response...

Spoiler: Actions

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Initiative: (1d20+4)[18]

[BelGareth]

Grace lands a solid blow, right in between the armor, and shoulder's, hitting a few ribs, if the dweomer wasn't put on her blade, it would have been fatal for most people, thank Iomedae it wasn't, she felt invigorated, but also a bit sorry, she hadn't meant to hit so hard.

Nodding to Filburn with respect and acknowledgement, she then turns to Morevek "Care to dance?" she says, with a small grin growing on her face.

[Farmerbink]

As Aurora and Morevek begin sparring, one of the squires you know recognize as Irabeth's page arrives. He looks about just a little before deciding on Waylan as the best recipient for his message. He approaches and bows respectfully, before hurriedly relaying: "Mistress Irabeth would like to see you... all, when you are soonest fit and able." He bows again, clearly distracted by the spectacle of swordsmanship taking place in the small arena.

Indeed, more than a few crusaders and soldiers have paused their own exercises or conversations to watch, as the oddly similar warriors display their skill. More than a few times, Morevek evades a blow that it seems he shouldn't have been able to dodge, and Aurora's strength of arm is on full display as she turns aside flurry after flurry. After several minutes, the pair are thoroughly fatigued, beaming champions- both having scored a few blows, but neither being forced to concede. A small round of applause fills the space as the sparring comes to an end, and Waylan spreads the news. Thanks to Elrembriel's magics, the two don't smell like they've just had the exercise of their lives when you arrive in Irabeth's sitting room.

Inside, Queen Galfrey waits, once more surrounded by the advisors and aides you've long since come to recognize. Grace in particular is afforded a subtle nod, though the queen allows context and reputation to be their own introduction.

Once you are seated, she looks at each face in turn, seeming to measure the concerns she finds therein. "Well, heroes? Do we venture on?"

Spoiler: OOC

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A few reminders.
One
Two

[JWallyR]

Morevek clears his throat softly in the pregnant pause that follows the queen's challenging question. "I am hesitant to... probe a wound that can only have begun to heal, but... it seems to this one that Your Majesty's question must... fall more heavily upon some than upon... others."

Morevek's head turns directly toward the paladin who once bore the name 'Aurora'. "Scars... have we all. But those that cannot be seen... sometimes linger longest."

He lapses into silence, but lines of... concern play at the corners of his eyes as he watches Grace.

[MuffinMan]

Waylan stares blankly at the great conference table and his fingers trace the wood grain as the others get settled, seemingly lost in thought. At Morevek's response he stirs, returning his attention to the present. "The raid on Drezen, yes... Well, the mission to retrieve Radiance and... Aurora must be considered a success", he glances apologetically at Grace, "though the demoness' actions still bewilder me... But if Grace feels herself well enough to travel, I see no further reason to delay. I can have Auspice saddled and ready to ride within the hour. What say you, Filburn?" He looks to his most outspoken ally for confirmation.

[BelGareth]

Grace weaved, and bobbed, she grimaced as the lip of the blade grazed off her shoulder, but she countered, and riposted, feinting with a shield jab, and scoring a good hit with her own blade.

They were both worn out, and she felt both exhilarated, and exhausted at the same time, but a good exhausted.

She nodded with respect to her sparring partners, and gathered her gear, following the others, she sat down, and nodded silently back to the Queen.

As the others, clearly were trying to tip toe around a touchy subject, this time she didn't care, it wasn't as annoying as before, maybe the exercise helped? But mostly, it was she had no clue what they were talking about.

"I'm sorry, what am I missing? I have no idea what you are referring to."

[JWallyR]

Morevek's eyes widen, and his mouth opens as though to speak- but no words escape his lips. Blinking his ebony eyes, he turns to Filburn, brows furrowed in consternation.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Filburn takes a deep breath as he tries to gather his thoughts. "Her Majesty has asked us to lead a small strike force deep into the Worldwound and take the stronghold of Drezen back from the demonic hordes. She has volunteered several of her best to help us get there and take the city," he explains. "We were about to go when we learned of your...plight?...in the clutches of that witch. Radiance led us to you, in a sense, and we hoped that you would join us in the venture. The woman you...were?...or resemble...was central to our little band. We hoped to rescue her so she could return and take her place among us again. You don't have to come with us, though, if you still need time to recover..."

[BelGareth]

Ignoring Morevek, she listens to Filburn's explanation, "Oh, I see, that sounds like a good idea, I'm in, when do we go?"

[JWallyR]

Morevek's eyes widen, and the claws on his tail make a chattering clicking sound as the tail itself lashes about the hem of his cloak, revealing the internal turmoil beneath the swordsman's otherwise statue-still stance. He blinks, swallows visibly... and his gaze drifts down to rest upon the floor in the middle of the room.

Click, clack, his clawed tail quietly chitters.

[DarkOne-Rob]

As his twitch goes into overdrive, Filburn takes a deep breath, nods, and then turns to the Queen. "Your Majesty, I think you have our answer," he says through a voice choking with unspoken emotion.

[BelGareth]

Grace frowns at the others, it was obvious they were...holding back? some unseen communication was going back or forth? She couldn't tell if they were concerned for her, or just talking behind her back, either way, it puzzled her, and more importantly, annoyed her, she got control of herself, balling her fists up in her lap, hopefully they would start behaving....she didn't care, she just wanted to get back into combat.

[Farmerbink]

The queen watches dispassionately as the party discusses, explains, and- perhaps more succinctly than might have been expected- accepts. She frowns narrowly, furrowing her brow as she considers, reconsiders, and finally nods in apparent satisfaction at Filburn's assent.

"I will not pretend this course is without peril," she begins, grossly understating the obvious reality. "But I am pleased that we have a full party; a bearer of Radiance, no less." Only briefly, Galfrey glances at Waylan in confusion before turning her gaze upon Grace. "You have perhaps the greatest blessing, and also the burden to go with it, Grace. I pray to the inheritor that she will guide your within her will and bless your arm against the foes that beset us all. Your allies, your friends, will surely need you, long before all is done." The queen holds the paladin's gaze for a few heavy moments before moving onward to include Morevek and Elrembriel. She nods to each in turn.

"Make whatever arrangements you need, and reconvene with masters Kir and Vaenic and mistress Dendiwhar in the square outside. I will be making my own preparations, so if you need anything else of me, this is the time." She spreads her hands open to invite supplication, and falls silent for a moment.

As you depart to your own chambers, she bows her head and intones, "May the will of the Inheritor guide our steps."

[JWallyR]

Morevek inclines his head slightly, in an almost imperceptible nod toward the queen... but he makes no movement toward the doorway. He stands still as a statue, save for the rustle of his cloak due to the unseen stirring of his tail.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Filburn bows and says, "I will go and pack my things. Thank you, your Majesty, and may your path be blessed." He then excuses himself to gather his pack and meet the party as directed.

[Gwynfrid]

Throughout the entire discussion, Elrembriel stays silent, her brow heavy with worry, her mind full of dread. Back to Drezen. Drezen! Her inner dialog turns into a sort of prayer, but not a comforting one. Iomedae, is this the test you have in mind for me? What makes you think I am ready for it? She nods in acquiescence at the Queen's instructions, but mostly because she feels powerless to do anything else.

Dismissed with the others, she bows deeply, before taking her leave to get ready for the road ahead. What more horrors does it have in hold for her and her companions, will be for them to discover. But, as she carefully packs her spellbook, component pouch, and other arcane implements, her mind is full with the terrible memories of her time in the demon-infested city of Drezen.

[MuffinMan]

Waylan bows and makes his own exit. He heads for the stables where he spends the next half-hour getting Auspice saddled and ready to travel. He heads into the square to meet with the others.

[BelGareth]

As Grace watches the others leave, she stays behind, noticing the longer gaze the queen left on her, it felt awkward, and she almost felt embarrassed, but she was resolute in her desire to stay and speak to the senior paladin, she had some...concerns.

As the last of the others left, she stepped up to the queen, somewhat timidly, "Your Majesty...I am not sure if this is permitted, or....well, I have no idea about a lot of things, but whenever you are near, I am reminded of your piety, and mine...." she pauses a moment "Has been lacking of late, not because of failure to want" she quickly adds, "I am....finding I have forgotten, and perhaps...I am in need of some repentance...for my time in...." she trails off, not wanting to finish her statement.

[Farmerbink]

The queen nods, knowingly. "Ours was never the easy path, my dear," she offers, comfortingly. "Know that what defiles us comes from within, however. No demon, witch, or even god can make you unfit. Only by your own choice to deny the calling will you lose your bond with Iomedae, and now her blade. They will not abandon you, lest you chose to deny them." Some time during her brief speech, you find her hand on your shoulder. Though at first it seems uncomfortable, the undeniable bond of shared burden draws you to her.

"Would that I could carry it for you, my friend. Know always that you have my fullest support. Know also, as long as Radiance shines within your grasp, you have that of the Inheritor herself."

[JWallyR]

Morevek, seemingly forgotten as he and Grace alone of their company remain in the makeshift audience chamber, watches the latter approach Queen Galfrey. The concern in his face softens, the pale-skinned swordsman watching in something akin to pity as the paladin he once knew gives voice to her inner doubts. With silent steps, he slips out through the doorway to make his own preparations.

[DarkOne-Rob]

After packing his bags, Filburn makes his way to visit the last Riftwarden, Aravashnial, and see how he is doing. "By now the clerics should have prayed for the magic to restore his eyes...a man of his caliber and with the capacity to turn the tides of battle would have been first in line..." he mutters, half to himself and half in discussion with his Black Blade. He knocks on the door to the old elf's room and waits for a call before entering.

When he sees that Aravashnial still lacks his eyes and is wearing the cloth covering they have seen so often he nearly turns around without speaking. Only with a sever tic and silent rebuke from his weapon turns him around. "Sir, your eyes...why has no one restored your sight, yet? Is there some problem, something preventing the magic from working? We must see to this at once! I am about to leave on a mission from the Queen, but I cannot leave knowing you are still blind!"

[Farmerbink]

Aravashnial is feverishly poring over a strange censer, filled with a heavily-perfumed deep blue liquid on a small desk by the wall. Whatever he sees, or smells or otherwise senses in the liquid is an utter mystery to Filburn, and apparently isn't so urgent that the Riftwarden refuses to interrupt his musings. "Yes, that," the Elf interjects, cutting Filburn off mid sentence. "I have spoken to them, as has Irabeth. Unfortunately, the clerics who survived the onslaught and have returned to us here lack the capability. It is... complicated magic, as I understand, and utterly alien to me as a wizard."

When Filburn returns to his train of thought and mentions the queen, however, something stirs in the Riftwarden. "Of course! Surely Queen Galfrey has her own regiment of clerics! How can I have missed it?" It takes him only a few moments to decant the liquid, which remains oddly opaque through the process, and even less time to convince the blinded wizard to follow Filburn to their gathering point.

---

In the broad avenue that separates Defender’s Heart from the smaller homes and establishments springing to life around it, Queen Galfrey waits, alongside Quednys Orlun and the sisters Tirablade. Horgus Gwerm stands nearby, beside a trio of fine horses yoked to wagons piled high with supplies. Aravashnial steps into the sunny morning beside Filburn, and quickly hurries towards the sound of quiet talking.

“Your highness,” he begins, bowing a little unsteadily. “I must ask for your help. The clerics here, though willing, have told me they are limited in their ability to access the divine. I will admit I don’t precisely understand the issue, but the point remains that they have been unable to restore my sight, but are confident it could be done. Pray, would you… uh…” He stammers for a few moments, struggling to piece the words together in a way that satisfies the combination of his desperate need and his deliberate deference. “Of course, master Aravashnial.” She simply gestures, and a man standing nearby- apparently a guardian of sorts to the queen- nods and steps into a doorway on the street. “Give my man a few minutes to prepare, and he will see to it.” Stammering, Aravashnial bows once more, and backs away, grinning like a schoolboy promised a puppy.

The queen looks up as the rest of your party begins making their way to the street. She smiles knowingly, perhaps appraisingly as you approach. "Welcome, welcome." she hails. "It is for the best, I think, that we were briefly delayed. You see, I was blessed with a series of visions in the night, and am obligated to act upon them." She levels her gaze briefly, but meaningfully upon each of you in turn...

[Gwynfrid]

Intensely uncomfortable under Queen Galfrey's gaze, Elrembriel reflexively takes her hand to her near-white hair, a futile attempt to hide the ugly scar on her cheek.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Filburn watches with some satisfaction as the last Rift Warden walks away to have his eyesight restored. "I am glad I went to see him," he mutters as he turns back to look at the majestic Paladin queen. When her gaze comes upon him he blushes and shows a violent tic towards his black blade. "Shhhhh - I'm trying not to embarrass us..."

[Farmerbink]

After a lengthy pause, of varying degrees of discomfort, Queen Galfrey beckons the heroes to approach in earnest. With a somber expression, she begins speaking, for the moment directing her attention to Morevek. "Things are in motion beyond what I originally understood. Ser Balthissar-" the title seems out of place, but there is no doubt to the queen's deliberate use. "Though my agent failed to acknowledge the significance of his words, upon that day, he conferred upon you the rank of knight. This title grants its bearer permission to lead armies, govern provinces, and comes with noteworthy responsibility. In addition, it makes you eligible for the honors of achievement within the crusade." She raises her hand and opens it, revealing a small pile of military medals, sparkling almost gemlike in the angled morning light.

"First, though it remains but a formality in light of your agreement, I must extend this title to your companions, as well." She turns to Grace. "I pray this will be of comfort to you, though I fear otherwise. My visions, though but fleeting image, have been confirmed true in every case where witnesses could be identified. Time and again, I watched you battle alongside these who would call you companion and friend. I witnessed your own commissioning as knight, your bravery and resolve against the darkness, and your strength of arm in doing them battle." She inclines her head respectfully, in honor of the deeds performed in a life Grace cannot remember. "And so, I confer upon you the medals of clarity¹, of valor², of Command³. Bear them proudly in service to the light." As she says the words, she extends her hand with a small ribbon to affix to Grace's armor. This done, she turns to Elrembriel.

"Young one," she begins, smiling. "Your mettle likewise is noteworthy. I welcome you, Ser Elrembriel, and your expertise against the intrusion. May the people rest easy under your watchful eye." The oddly familiar words now carry their full weight, the significance of which is not lost upon the Elven wizard. "I confer upon you the medals of clarity¹, and of command³. Bear them proudly in service to the light." She inclines her head respectfully, and turns to Waylan.

"Master Henrickson. Your compassion is well known, and will be of great value to the cause of righteousness. I welcome you, Ser Henrickson, and your expertise against the intrusion. May the people rest easy under your watchful eye. For your efforts against the demons, I confer the medals of clarity¹, and of valor². Bear them proudly, in service to the light."

Her attention passes onward to Filburn. "The Crow may be an unattractive emblem, but your actions prove its worth. I welcome you, Ser Crow, and your experience against the intrusion. May the people rest easy under your watchful eye. I have seen your deeds both in visions granted by the Inheritor and in the depths of the abyss itself. For your deeds, I confer the medals of valor², and of agility⁴. Bear them proudly, in service to the light." Finally, she turns back to Morevek.

"Perhaps the most unlikely of developments, but nonetheless deserved. Ser Balthissar, you are already a knight of the 5th crusade. Let us pray you are a knight of the final crusade. In truth, though present, I did not see your actions in the abyss until my dreams last night. Such is your grace and ability with the blade. For your efforts, I confer upon you the medals of valor,² and of agiliy⁴. Bear them proudly, in service to the light."

Spoiler: Knighthood and Medals

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As mentioned in-character, you're all officially knights of the 5th crusade. Irabeth likewise has been commissioned, though the army you will head and the other specialists assisting you have not. It's kind of a big deal, and one I hope none of you would refuse- though it is technically allowed. It would make the medals inaccessible to you, which I would call a poor choice. Further, as knights, you are authorized to place the medals on one another, when the hero in question has completed the requisite achievement. Medals placed without being earned are inert.

The medals are:
1) Clarity: This circular blue medal depicts a pair of feminine gray eyes surrounded by a circular silver lightning bolt. It is awarded to a hero who recovers vital information of great use against the Worldwound and delivers this intelligence to the crusaders. This medal is associated with Intelligence and grants a +2 sacred bonus on saves against insanity or confusion effects.
2) Valor: This medal looks like a demonic skull, the top of which has been pierced by four red-hilted swords. It is awarded to a hero who delivers a death blow to a demon whose CR is at least 1 higher than the hero’s character level. This medal is associated with Strength and grants a +2 sacred bonus to CMD.
3) Command: This circular medal depicts a leering demon head before two crossed swords. It is awarded to a hero who redeems one of the enemy and convinces the redeemed character to join the crusade. This medal is associated with Charisma and grants a +2 sacred bonus on saves against emotion-based effects (including fear effects).
4) Agility: This triangular iron medal shows a demonic face surrounded by three swords. It is awarded to a hero who delivers a death blow to a demon in combat before that demon gets a chance to act in the combat. This medal is associated with Dexterity and grants a +1 sacred bonus on Initiative checks.
5) Spirit: This rectangular medal depicts the symbol of Iomedae on a field of red. It is awarded to a hero who becomes possessed or mentally controlled by a demon but escapes from that control before he is forced to do evil. This medal is associated with Wisdom and grants a +2 sacred bonus on saves against charm and possession effects (including dominate effects). None of you have yet achieved this medal.
and 6) Vigor: This hexagonal medal depicts a white castle on a field of red with gold trim. It is awarded to a hero who is reduced to negative hit points by a demon but survives (or alternately, is restored to life) and rejoins the battle before that demon is defeated. This medal is associated with Constitution and grants a +2 sacred bonus on saves against death effects. Waylan very nearly achieved this medal in this fight, but not quite.

A mythic character who wears all six righteous medals gains one additional use of mythic power per day.

[JWallyR]

"Things are in motion beyond what I originally understood. Ser Balthissar-"

Morevek stiffens, head rising from a deferential nod toward Her Majesty to meet her gaze with widening eyes.

"Though my agent failed to acknowledge the significance of his words, upon that day, he conferred upon you the rank of knight. This title grants its bearer permission to lead armies, govern provinces, and comes with noteworthy responsibility. In addition, it makes you eligible for the honors of achievement within the crusade."

"Perhaps the most unlikely of developments, but nonetheless deserved. Ser Balthissar, you are already a knight of the 5th crusade. Let us pray you are a knight of the final crusade. In truth, though present, I did not see your actions in the abyss until my dreams last night. Such is your grace and ability with the blade. For your efforts, I confer upon you the medals of valor,² and of agility⁴. Bear them proudly, in service to the light."

Morevek bows deeply toward the queen, accepting the medals without a word. His clawed tail curls up beside its master's torso, languidly twirling beside the speechless swordsman.

[Gwynfrid]

"Me? Really? I don't think... Er..." The young elf, flustered, wonders for a moment if there has been an error of some sort. But the Queen looks really dead serious. So the red-faced Elrembriel lets her pin the medals to her cloak. Still dumbfounded, she only remembers to bow when she sees Morevek do so, and quickly takes a few steps back away from the front row as soon as Galfrey moves on to congratulate Waylan.

A knight... I would never have... But the little, shy voice in the back of her mind comes up with a thought entirely new to her. Maybe I'll deserve the other four someday?

[DarkOne-Rob]

As he realizes the Queen is giving out awards, including knighthood, Filburn first calls out, "Attention to award!" in a loud voice, ensuring that all the military within reach of his voice come to attention and recognize the honors being awarded. He pops to attention, his gaze in the middle distance, and waits patiently for the powerful ruler to finish awarding Grace her medals. When Queen Galfrey continues to award more medals his control waivers briefly, until he gasps when she turns to him.

The half-elf is unable to contain his emotion when the Queen addresses him as "Ser Crow," and tears begin to fall from his eyes as he does his best to choke down the feelings threatening to overwhelm him. He finds himself kneeling before her as she finishes and remains there until everyone has received their respective awards. When it is clear she is done Filburn rises and looks to the monarch. When she nods in his direction Filburn yells, "Carry on!" to direct the soldiers to continue with their preparations.

As some cheers ring out and those nearby applaud the party of heroes he excuses himself for a moment to find a relatively private place. There he breaks down into open, joyful weeping, falling to his knees as he quietly speaks. "I only ever wanted to serve a noble knight, never to become one myself...thank the powers of good and righteous battle for this honor. With your help I will prove worthy of this, someday..." His quiet prayers continue for several minutes as the army prepares to march.

For the first time in several days it appears his tic is relieved, as Baerlyon, his Black Blade, ceases with its frequent criticisms and remains silent in the scabbard of the Knight of the Crusade...