Sword in the Well
Nibiru is a ruins, most of the place has been burned to the ground of recent, and the few homes and shops that are left are ramshackle at best. Though it does look like some restoration efforts have been made. Still, the townsfolk remain. They haven't given up hope in spite of the recent bout of hardship that they've had. They stop what they're doing as you pass by to give you suspicious and unpleasant looks. They don't seen to want you here. Most of the people you pass seem to have injuries, others look sick. None of them look as though they could put up a decent fight if it came to it. Maybe that's why you're getting the looks. They know an armed force when they see one.
You don't make it quite all the way through the town when you're stopped by an elderly man with dust and ash on his clothes. "What do you want here." He demands more than asks, his blue eyes hard and tired things.
Telamon steps forward, his eyes gentle. His expression is not stern, nor disdainful, but warm despite the chill in the air. "We are here to help, sir. There are certain things that must be done, but we wish no harm on you, or yours, or to the town." He spreads his hands. "Be at peace. I seek nothing but to set things right."
There's been nothing but a droning pang of anxiety sweltering in the pit of Aryia's stomach. Each step towards Nibiru agitating it further. Lips dry and chapped, she's doing her best to keep the quaver out of her breath
And then they find that ruined town. Remembering the crows overhead that just expired without reason. Now more dots were connected. And how she wished those dots connected in some other manner. Letting the others do the talking, she picks at her fingers for a moment before taking a shaky breath In. Then a slow one Out.
She twists her neck with a satisfying crack.
This was Seyardu's first time being in the town, and her knowledge was second hand of the place, as little as it was. That did not stop her from feeling a pang of sympathy for the many they passed by, though she dared not to stop to help them at the moment. They had an important task, and lingering could prove more dangerous than the aid offered.
The man confronting them makes her stop, but she allows the others with more knowledge of the goings on to speak for the time being, in case there was anything to be said of their goals.
Verna might be able to offer some validity to their presence, given her position as a Mourner. Alternatively, her presence is not likely to put the injured, ill, or infirm at ease by the same. "It is as he states," she confirms Telamon's statement. "We bring no ill will nor intent to you, this town, nor its residents. We hold reason to believe that our duties here shall likely improve matters for the same."
Jinks offers a disarming and friendly smile with any who bother to look low enough and make eye contact with him. He's armed, surely, but a pleasant little illusory lie deceives the naked eye and the gnome looks for all the world like an overly-adorned dandy in a voluminous, plum-colored winter coat. He's anxious, too, surely (there was that warning about the boyfriend with the exploding heart and a druid-cum-dragon), but does a better job hiding it than the mul'niessa.
Speaking (not exactly) of, he double-times to keep pace with the pugilist and nudges her hip to get her attention. "Remember what they say: 'all's well that ends in a well.'" Then he falls back into a more relaxed pace towards the rear of their procession and produces his flask for a good, long drink. <handspeech>
GAME: Jinks rolls Perception: (11)+12: 23 GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (9)+28: 37 GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (19)+8: 27 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20: (18): 18 GAME: Verna rolls perception: (18)+28: 46 GAME: Seyardu rolls perception: (1)+7: 8 (EPIC FAIL)
Telamon doesn't lose his charming smile, though he's -pretty- certain the old man's going to be a hard sell. "We can't do that, sir. Look... I appreciate that you're ill-disposed towards strangers, adventurers, ne'er-do-wells, and possibly jugglers, but we really do have business here, and..." He pauses, his expression changing slightly. "...Sir, are you having a... what the oruch call a 'grand brawl' in your town square? Because it sounds like it."
GAME: Telamon rolls diplomacy+3: (7)+10+3: 20
Aryia glances off to the side to where the gentleman looks, her taking a moment to nervously chuckle to Jinks' joke. Though, her anxious vigilance making her parse things more than she should. She wasn't listening to the man, to be frank, she didn't care.
Her face blanches some. "... fucking fuck, shit's going down. Center of town is where-!" She doesn't elaborate anything further on that point, should they still be watched. "Keep the kid safe, come on!"
She sidesteps the man to start jogging that way. <Handspeech>
Verna may only be half sildanyari, but that is enough heritage to have her ears be keen even if they do not appear as sharp as others'. She promptly frowns at the sounds which the man dismisses. "When there is violence and death, the urgency of others in immediate dire need takes precedence..." That is all she offers as she hastily moves after Aryia for the town center.
Seyardu was about to refute herself when they were asked to leave, only to find that there was something concerned to others. She blinks, and nods to them, before joining them in sprinting to the town center. "Stay close, do not let anyone be caught unaware." She warns.
"... hard to tell who enjoys juggling; it's often a toss-up," Jinks asides to Hotaru, doing his best to keep at the prescient's side. There's a shrug, "Coyote laughs." His onyx-black eyes squint subtly around the same time the others react to the sounds of a fracas. There's a rearranging of a few benign items over and beneath his coat and he's securing a buckler onto his forearm and unslinging a bow from beneath the obfuscations generated by his hairpin.
"No shortage of capable healers in this group, tallman," adds the minstrel to Telamon's soothing words. "And we'd be happy to mend what ails your constituents once we've resolved more pressing matters..." A big, warm smile is equal parts 'you're welcome,' 'sorry,' and 'best not to get in the way of the punchy lady.' The jewelry he wears glitters all over his face, hands, and trunk.
Jinks makes a point to stick with their little oracle tagalong for the time being.
It's not difficult to get past the elderly man. Though he does make a grab for Aryia that misses her nimble form. You rush past him to the city center. He sighs and looks at Telamon and Jinks before finally and somewhat reluctantly nodding. "Suppose there's no stopping you." He grumbles.
The prophet giggles at Jink's joke, he's still young enough to find such things funny. Plus he's lived in Charn his whole life. Jokes are precious little in captivity. He follows in the wake of everyone else. After all, he's the one that needs to go _into_ the well.
You reach the well quickly enough, and on the edge sits the same unfamiliar woman you encountered before. She's cleaning her nails out as she sits there, her eyes flickering up as you come running up. People are dead and dying around her. She shakes her head at you and slowly rises to her feet with grace that is oh-so familiar. "Is this what you want Aryia?"
GAME: Aryia spends ONE use of STUNNING FIST. GAME: Aryia rolls punch: aliased to weapon0+2: (17)+18+2: 37 GAME: Aryia rolls crunch: aliased to 2d8+strength+2: (7)+3+2: 12 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+22: (14)+22: 36
Aryia ignores the man grabbing for her, her shooting him a nervous yet challenging glare as him. Her foot steps brisk as the others hurry towards the center of town.
She comes to a stop. Gaze sweeps from one end of the carnage, to the other end of the death.
An eye twitches. Anxiety bleeds away. There was no more preparing. The time was now.
The question was answered in the most Aryia way possible. "Fuck. You," she jabs a finger at her.
Bright light sheds from her hands.
And said hand crosses the distance to give the preening copy a flashbang of a haymaker. <Handspeech>
GAME: Jinks spends ONE use of BARDIC PERFORMANCE. GAME: Jinks casts Haste. Caster Level: 12 DC: 20 GAME: Telamon casts Unseen Servant. Caster Level: 4 DC: 17 GAME: Verna casts Destruction. Caster Level: 18 DC: 24 GAME: Verna casts Finger of Death. Caster Level: 19 DC: 25 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+19+4+2: (20)+19+4+2: 45 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+20+4+2: (1)+20+4+2: 27 (EPIC FAIL)
Jinks' eyes only go slightly-wider at the sight of the simulacrum casually leaning among the scattered casualties and corpses. This is what they came for after all. The little gnome sucks in a deep breath and settles on a tune he'd picked up from a certain unlucky Tsura sorceress on one of their shared misadventures. His tenor belts out, unusually throaty and rough, and pulses through the Hymn to bolster his allies, drawing the world into a sharper focus.
Meanwhile, his free hand waves through the air, tracing over invisible stands of the Weave to find the silvery thread draped between the closer members of the group. His pointer-finger loops, twisting in the thread before he begins to tap out the accelerando that seems to slow the world for all but Aryia.
"When I was younger, I lived in fear That incarceration of some kind is near..."
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+22: (17)+22: 39 GAME: Verna rolls 10d6: (39): 39
Verna knows this thing is not Aryia's sister. It is a copy; a thing. Soulless entities are anathema to The Gray Harpist and should be removed. As well, it was created by magic. Magic can be unmade. Thus Verna seeks to do both. For both reasons. At the same time.
Her left hand clasps the scales at her neck to raise them, whilst her right makes precise gestures of the arcane. Incantations blend with beseechment before the potent magics of both intertwine as they are unleashed upon the facsimile...
... which proves to be exceedingly well made and resistant, yet portions are unraveled, evaporated.
GAME: Seyardu casts Righteous Might. Caster Level: 12 DC: 21 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+24: (13)+24: 37 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+24: (10)+24: 34 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+24: (3)+24: 27 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+24: (10)+24: 34 GAME: Aftershock rolls 2d10+7: (13)+7: 20 GAME: Aftershock rolls 2d10+7: (13)+7: 20 GAME: Aftershock rolls 2d10+7: (17)+7: 24
The person in front of them was not Aya, or at least, another copy of her. And one that had caused many deaths at their hand. The silver makari grows in size, much larger, towering over the others, and empowered by Jinks' magic, able to move at a frightening pace for one so large. They bring their polearm to strike, only to find it hitting air. This does not stop them from glaring down at the faux-aya though.
"This is growing tiring. But if you keep showing up, we will continue to put you down."
The false Aya disappears from in front of Aryia, a step into darkness and then she's hitting Aryia - hard. The third blow misses by inches, but the others... The beating is brutal. No mercy flickers in the eyes of the false Aya. Not a single iota of remorse or hesitation. She smiles cruelly at Seyardu, unafraid.
Back by Telamon and Jinks the 'real' Aya appears, picking up Hotaru by the throat so that the prophet begins immediately to turn red. "D-n't. K-ll!" He tries to speak through the pain but he's just an innocent boy. The 'real' Aya smiles at Jinks.
"You can prevent the future if you know it. All of this could have been avoided, if he'd just done the proper thing and died. A stain on the floor quickly forgotten rather than all of... this." She waves a hand at the bodies laying around on the ground. The dead and dying.
GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL. GAME: Aryia rolls punch+3: aliased to weapon0+2+3: (14)+18+2+3: 37 GAME: Aryia rolls crunch+3: aliased to 2d8+strength+2+3: (5)+3+2+3: 13 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+22: (7)+22: 29 GAME: Jinks casts Break Enchantment. Caster Level: 12 DC: 21 GAME: Jinks spends ONE use of BARDIC PERFORMANCE. GAME: Telamon rolls bluff: (1)+13: 14 (EPIC FAIL)
Aryia is ready to get her ass handed to her, she pulls in close, trying to dodge as best she can but instead gritting her teeth as the blows rock her bones. She coughs up some life ichor, her resolve emboldened as her friend arrives. She cocks a fist back-
And hears.
Her.
She looks back, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest, but fear catches up with it. "Keep this bitch busy!" she gestures to Seyardu before crouching down and... vanishes in an after image.
She appears next to Aya, feet sliding along the ground to a stop. Dust kicking up in a plume. "-Y-!" she hisses, coughing more. "Drop him!"
A fist lances out, and finds purchase. Pulled slightly, as requested. And needed. They needed this body.
But it dawns on her. She hit her.
After all this time, she managed to hit her. "See how far I've come," she motions to the puppet. Shaking. Nervous. <Handspeech>
"I checked my head, induct' with rules I nearly became a gods damned fool,"
The Tsura song continues, the gypsy tune at odds with the refined dandy conjuring them. The notes are thick with the Hymn and continue to work their magic-- in spite of Jinks nearly choking on his tongue when the second 'Aya' appears within spitting distance.
Ringed fingers dart into one of the many pouches on the minstrel's belt, finding the one stamped with the Abjuration rune and 'IV,' plucking it free. His solid-black eyes scan over the runes as he works the intent into his melody, bending the magics through the Weave and drawing on the enhancements in the undercoat he's wearing.
Hotaru slips out of Aya's grasp, an impossible, tight barrier threading gossamer torrents of energy about the entirety of his person.
Jinks sports a wide, smug smile.
Telamon is, frankly, flabbergasted when this Aya person pops out of thin air to grab Hotaru. She wasn't supposed to show up until after they'd taken out her avatar! He scrambles back a few feet, at a loss for words. Fighting her's not a great option, especially since Aryia only -just- landed a hit on her. Maybe he could distract her? He says the first words that pop into his head: "Archmage Mikilos! You're just in time!" ... She'll never buy that. He gestures for Hotaru to run behind him, figuring he can be a last line of defense. Hopefully that won't be the case.
GAME: Verna casts Dimensional Anchor. Caster Level: 19 DC: 21 GAME: Verna casts Destruction. Caster Level: 18 DC: 24 GAME: Verna rolls ranged+3+1: (5)+11+3+1: 20 GAME: Verna rolls ranged+3+1: (19)+11+3+1: 34 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+19+4: (12)+19+4: 35 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+19+4: (12)+19+4: 35 GAME: Verna rolls 10d6: (39): 39
Well, it seems that no one told this other, different, presumed original Aya that the plan was for her to arrive AFTER the simulacrum was destroyed. Vern scowls as her attention is now split. They cannot allow her to harm Hotaru, nor vanish with him. Neither can they allow the simulAyacrum to continue pummeling Aryia. Verna is well aware of how that stings.
She makes a hasty step back from any/all mul'niessan monks before a rod appears in her hand. It accelerates the conjuring of a green ray that is flung at the latter Aya ... and actually strikes! "She cannot flee!" she calls before turning her focus to the facsimile.
Once more, she attempts to unravel it per Vardama's will and aid. Once more, she marginally succeeds, removing more from the !Aya.
GAME: Seyardu rolls 1d20+15+4: (14)+15+4: 33 GAME: Seyardu rolls 1d20+15+4: (18)+15+4: 37 GAME: Seyardu rolls 1d20+10+4: (6)+10+4: 20 GAME: Jinks casts Gallant Inspiration. Caster Level: 12 DC: 19 GAME: Jinks rolls 2d4: (2): 2 GAME: Seyardu rolls 1d10 + 6 +2 +9: (1)+6+2+9: 18 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+24: (2)+24: 26
Seyardu was big, and imposing, but Aya was, even in a shadow of herself, incredibly hard to hit. It was only by the nature of the sheer size of her weapon and self that she was able to bring the polearm down and smash her in a shoulder as she attempted to dodge out of the way of the other blows.
Hotaru lands safely on his feet and smiles widely at Jinks before turning his eyes on Aryia. "Put that necklace around her neck! Then get away from her as fast as you can!" He turns at this and - runs - blasting past the fake!Aya who tries to grab him but fails in her efforts thanks to Jink's spell. Down the well he goes, jumpin in like it's not a hundred feet or so down. "AAAAAH!"
The real Aya's eyes widen at the words, and she tires to grab ahold of Aryia, but her hands are shaking so badly that she can't get a good grasp on her nimble sister.
GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+17+10+1: (4)+17+10+1: 32 GAME: Mikilos casts Grasping Hand. Caster Level: 17 DC: 28 GAME: Aryia rolls grapple+3: aliased to : (4)+18+2+2+3: 29 GAME: Aryia rolls grapple+3: aliased to : (11)+18+2+2+3: 36
Mikilos is tall, but not overly imposing. He does however stretch out a hand to the real Aya. And I do mean STRETCH, the elf's hand swelling to ten feet long and detaching as it tries to grab the spry lady. While it fails to get a grip, it does keep between her and the caster, offering a bit of cover.
GAME: Jinks rolls weapon11+3+1-2: (14)+18+3+1+-2: 34 GAME: Jinks rolls weapon11+3+1-2: (19)+18+3+1+-2: 39 GAME: Jinks rolls weapon11+3+1-2: (4)+18+3+1+-2: 24 GAME: Jinks rolls weapon11+3+1-2: (19)+18+3+1+-2: 39
Aryia girds herself as she readies for an onslaught. A beating. Even death. But then..
Hotaru mentions the- Wait, how did he know about..!
Right! Emboldened, she turns to find Aya lunging for her. And if she were less hardened, less sure of herself. Less her. She'd be caught.
But she grabs her old mentor's wrists, and wrenches them out of the way. "N- y-u d-n't!" she hisses in a songful tongue, yet understood by all. She tries to go for her own grab, but it was her sister after all, and she couldn't get purchase. <Celestial/Tongues>
GAME: Jinks casts Gallant Inspiration. Caster Level: 12 DC: 19 GAME: Jinks rolls 2d4: (5): 5 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4+5+3+4: (4)+5+3+4: 16 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4+5+3+4: (3)+5+3+4: 15 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4+5+3+4: (2)+5+3+4: 14 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4+5+3+4: (1)+5+3+4: 13
Doing his best to keep track of matters, Jinks plows his way into the second verse of his song, skirting the melee behind him and hopping one long step closer to the simulacram looming over the wall.
"But I heard voices, not in the head Out in the air they called ahead..."
The gnome lifts his etched recurve as the etched runes come to life, alternating between a silvery- and cool blue hue. He drops the scroll at his feet, slapping back his coat as gnimble fingers dart between the quiver at his hip at the taut string. A barrage of tiny missiles whistle staccato through the air, a pair finding home in manufactured flesh before two more of the remain three hit. The last blasts through the false-mul' and the whole thing comes apart as slush and stinking, acrid ooze.
GAME: Aryia rolls wisdom: (20)+5: 25
Suddenly, Mikilos has entered the fray. Telamon's jaw sags open -- he didn't think it would -actually happen-. He shakes off his confusion as Hotaru rockets past the faux Aya, and into the well. "By the gods!" he sputters as the boy simply leaps in. When Jinks's fusillade puts paid to the construct, Telamon sprints over, hurriedly pulling a coil of spidersilk rope and starting to play it down the well. "Hotaru, can you hear me -- what the..." He keeps playing out the rope on reflex, as he sees a blazing light in the well like a small sun.
GAME: Verna casts Chains of Light. Caster Level: 18 DC: 23 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+22: (17)+22: 39
Verna is surprised when Jinks' arrows complete the task of removing the facsimile. She is even more surprised when Hotaru runs and leaps into the well. Two blinks and a double-take are all that she can spare, along with a "Tend to him!" to the passing Telemon as he runs to the well after.
Aryia is still engaged with the other Aya, to be taken intact. As a Mourner in service to the Goddess of the Dead and a Necromancer, Verna's magical options for ALIVE are somewhat limited. Doubting that Aryia would appreciate bolts of life-draining (but nonlethal) negative energy flung past her, she instead conjures silver-glowing chains from her Mistress' Hall. Which the Aya-thing adeptly and nimbly avoids.
GAME: Seyardu rolls cmb +2: (5)+11+2: 18 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+24: (12)+24: 36 GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+17+10+1: (6)+17+10+1: 34
Things were better, and worse, as while Seyardu was busy with dealing with the now melted simulacrum, the child they were there with had jumped into a well. Others seemed to have that checked over for the time being, and Aryia seemed to be up to something or other. The large makari strides over to where the monk was, and grasps her back, trying to shove them into place as they fought every moment of the way.
The 'real' Aya tries to get the upper hand on Ayria, but it's not so easy now that her young pupil has grown in skill. They wrestle back and forth, but neither of them has gotten the upper hand yet.
Mikilos redirects the giant Hand, corralling more than grabbing. The wizard himself heads for the well, uncertain of the bright light that 'wells' from within.
GAME: Aryia rolls punch+3+4: aliased to weapon0+2+3+4: (19)+18+2+3+4: 46 GAME: Aryia rolls crunch+3: aliased to 2d8+strength+2+3: (4)+3+2+3: 12
Aryia bobs and weaves, all the training they had together, none of it coming to light as each grab and parry was new and threatening.
But she saw those trembling hands. The desperation. Was it to stop her? Or was it to let her go.
The mute has an epiphany. Clarity in the chaos.
She she rips free the necklace hidden under her shirt, a shining, brilliant blue crystal affixed to the end of it, glinting in the sun.
The loop spins around her fingers, the gem jutting out of her clenched fist. She watches another lunge. Another opening. She takes a breath In
Aryia shoots her free hand forward, grabbing Aya by the jaw, and pulls her in to clonk her forehead against hers.
"A-Aya," she whispers, so close, it could be heard.
And finally. The bated breath Out she's been waiting for so long.
"I love you."
>Thud.<
Her crystal laden hand is jammed firmly against her sister's chest.
And that's all it takes.
She suddenly drop kicks her old mentor away and pops back up onto her feet. Gesturing widely to the air as she breaks into a dead sprint, "RUN RUN RUN!" <Handspeech>
And after a moment of the warning being heeded; the body detonates in an huge burst of fire and nefarious energies behind them, spreading heat and dread in all direction.
Through the flash of flames and darkness there's a flash of white light from the well which forms a bubble around Telamon and Mikilos as Hotaru exits the well with what seems to be a small star in his hands.
Telamon flinches away from the detonation, as Aya explodes. But then... nothing. He pauses, looking at the bubble, and then he sees Hotaru calmly rising out of the well. For a moment he seems at a loss for words, before he finally says shakily, "Let's... let's not do that again, shall we?" Before his knees give out and he just -sits- down with his back to the well.
Mikilos blinks, and not just from the light, squinting at the... whatever it is... in the prophet's hands. "And some point, someone needs to explain to me all the steps to this that I've missed."
Looking left and right, Jinks slowly eases out of his wide stance and heaves a heavy sigh. The Hymn leaves with the lyrics, sliding once more into the background of everyday life. A column of light to one side, an explosion of dark to the other...
"Nothing like a bit of fireworks at the end of a performance," the bard observes, replacing the bow in its harness and collecting his dropped scroll.
"Mayor Tallman!" the gnome calls out to the old fellow who'd correctly guessed the adventurers would bring nothing but trouble upon their arrival. He makes a rallying gesture with his ring-laden fingers and then waves them over. "Gather up your wounded and we'll see to them."
It is not terribly surprising to Verna that her magic had, overall, ... less than the desired effect. Still, Aryia deserves her freedom from HIS machinations, and Aryia was of unfathomable help to Verna's own recent release from the same. Thus, seeing Seyardu join the fray, she is prepared to do the same, regardless of risk to face...
Only for both of them to suddenly bolt away from the Aya-thing before she can do so.
Change of plan. Inversion, in fact. She turns to put some distance for herself before the sudden eruption of hellfire. She is thrown from her feet (or perhaps reflexively dove?) and left blinking afterwards even as her head pans to look to the others. Verna can only nod once to Telamon in agreement.
Seyardu did have a slight remembrance of what Hotaru had said.
What she did not expect was the necklace to be put on so violently. With that happening, and Aryyia immediately running away, Seyardu turns and follows as quickly as she is able, just barely managing to exit in a lumbering sprint that lands them barely out of range. She turns around, and sighs, seeing the others okay near the well. "Yes, any wounded, we will tend to as quickly as we can."
Aryia picks herself up to a crouch off the ground as the dust settles from the explosion, her squinting against the light that Hotaru wields. He was okay. Her friends were... okay.
A shudder leaves her, a cough of blood, hands trembling as... as...
"---!" she cries something unintelligible and garbled, stumbling to her knees before she scrabbles fully to run over to ground zero of the spontaneous conflagration.
Aya is kneeling in the street. Staring at her hands. Wordless. Speechless. Her eyes are her eyes again. No sign of demon horns. No sign of... anything but herself.
Hotaru climbs over the edge of the well and lands on the ground with a smile. "She's herself once again... Well nearly. The evil in her heart and her mind will linger until she can be Atoned of what she's done. Assuming she chooses that path." Hotaru pockets the small star. "As for this... It's a shard of Animus. I will return it to its rightful place when we return to Alexandria so that you can smuggle me out of here."
Mikilos frowns mildly at the Star Shard, but holds off on his curiosity. "Where is it you wish to go? Between flying, teleportation, and shifting planes, I can take you most places in the universe." The wizard glances to the injured, but that's one area is magic is poorly suited for.
After a few minutes to get his composure back, Telamon manages to get to his feet, directing his unseen servant to help with moving people into position for Jinks and Verna to cast spells. It's slow work, but not thankless; it's what heroes do, after all. He leaves the restored Aya to Aryia, only commenting to Hotaru, "You could've told us -before- you leaped into the well, you know..."
GAME: Seyardu rolls 6d6: (30): 30 GAME: Seyardu rolls 6d6: (27): 27 GAME: Seyardu rolls 6d6: (25): 25
Seyardu stops, and catches her breath as the magic wears off, and she returns to her normal size of below average height. It takes a moment of looking around before she moves to join the others in tending to the wounded. She takes her holy symbol, and holds it aloft, suffusing the area and people with divine healing energies.
"I know it is important, but if Aya is in no immediate danger, I need to ensure that none are dying here." She states to Aryia. "And, I agree with Telamon. At least let us know before you do something dangerous such as that."
Yes, the injured! Jinks' call returns Verna's cognizance to the here and now. Incidentally, it is also less painful than a concussion. She regains her feet and moves to assist in the gathering of the injured, to follow with the healing of said wounded en mass. The treatment is most efficient in this manner.
She also makes note of the kneeling figure left in the fiery wake. Verna cannot give a certain prognosis at present, but optimistically accepts the lack of active attempted murder as a strong sign, even before Hotaru's explanation. Given that Verna rather recently went through a similar cleansing, herself, she knows full well that it is a resolvable matter. In a pause between treatments, she offers to Aryia a single brief gesture of communication.
A thumb up.
People were talking. Mumbles and murmurs as the words go in out ear and out the other as Aryia's feet hammer against the ground.
The hammering turns to taps. And the taps to tip toes.
Gleaming, glowing gaze looks down at Aya, her sister. She trembles. She shakes. The healing washing over her doing nothing to abate it, even Jinks method of reassurance is just glanced to.
Then there's a blur of movement as the pupil cracks a fist across her mentor's face. "A FUCKING LETTER?! /REALLY/?!" she all but screeches with her hands.
Then, she crumples to her knees, openly wails, and pulls the undemoned Aya into an overdue embrace. <Handspeech>
-End