To Find a Mourner (Part 9)

When we last left our heroes:

"You heard her." Auranar says, her dark eyes gleaming as magic power surges through her body. "FOREVER." The magic courses to her hand and she feels it darken for the first time. Not light building up but darkness. The darkness of a finger in a box. The darkness of the words that Verna had whispered in the night. The darkness of fear, anger, and sorrow. "FEEL HER PAIN."

The spell surges inside her and she curses the woman with all her might, and she punches the other woman as best she can. She's not a fighter, but there's more in her hand than just the weight of her body.

"Feel all their pain." This is a whisper, but she's got more power to curse with.

In today's episode:

Varyssa did not expect such boldness from the likes of Auranar. Even less expected was competence, much less skill and power. She exclaims in surprise (rather than pain) and takes a step back.

"Why you insolent- ahg!" The shock on her features twists to a grimace that more resembles pain. "You will suffer for that! You are insignificant. You are nothing but..." her ire seems to shift at a thought and scowl twists to a smile that is not soft "... leverage."

"Shk'vaa. Kill them all," she decrees to none in particular. "Save this one." A flick of her wrist points her rapier tip towards Auranar.

GAME: Verna rolls 1d6: (6): 6
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+33: (20)+33: 53
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+33: (3)+33: 36
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+33: (15)+33: 48
GAME: Verna rolls 4d10+11+4d10+11: (16)+11+(25)+11: 63
GAME: Verna rolls 4d10+11: (22)+11: 33

One of the very shiny statues (the one to the left facing from the door) suddenly appears to.. melt?! It's aesthetically-displeasing chest (per Rune) sags and then expands.. and extends. They continue to do so as two long liquid tendrils that reach significantly across the room to slap at Harkashan. The imagery is ... odd, at best, yet hundreds of pounds of metal slamming into one is not... fun.

Varyssa looses a laugh, which is followed by a sudden grimace. Aside from this, she does not appear to do much.

GAME: Telamon casts Haste/Quicken. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26
GAME: Telamon casts Greater Shadow Conjuration. Caster Level: 20 DC: 27

Well, that wasn't unexpected. Unpleasant, but not unexpected. Still, watching a metal golem do a remarkable impression of quicksilver as it pounds on Hark is not much fun. Telamon begins to chant rapidly, spitting out a spell that arcs over to Hark, Aelwyn, and Rune, quickening their movements.

That done, Telamon begins to incant, smoke pouring from his fingertips as a ghostly form appears in the shadows, resolving into a lillend azata that beats her wings and flies upwards. Deliberately, she begins to play on her lyre, the tune filling the hearts of all Telamon's friends with strength and resolve. "You cannot win, Varyssa," Telamon says in a cold tone. "Flee, or proceed on your way to oblivion."

GAME: Simony rolls strength+9: (15)+1+9: 25
GAME: Simony rolls heal: (8)+14: 22

"Sweet, merciful Navos, that is a terrible image!", the Goblin remarks, having gotten to where Verna hangs from the chains, and looked over her shoulder to witness the statue's ... pointed attacks on Harkashan. "Some people have no sense of propriety.'

Quickly looking over Verna, Simony frowns. With a grunt, she attempts to pry open one of the manacles. A look of supreme concentration furrows the Goblin's brow, and slowly the manacle begins to fail. With a tenderness befitting her small size, Simony pulls one of Verna's eyes free.

"Telamon!", she calls out, a tinge of worry in her voice. "Verna... she's been aged. Unnaturally so. She could easily be your grandmother." The Goblin looks at Varyasa, eye narrowing. "SHE... did this."

GAME: Auranar rolls 1d20+8+1+1+1+1+1+1+2: (2)+8+1+1+1+1+1+1+2: 18
GAME: Auranar rolls 1d20+8+1+1+1+1+1+1+2: (4)+8+1+1+1+1+1+1+2: 20
GAME: Auranar rolls Intimidate: (3)+5: 8

Auranar steps back, tears rising to her eyes at Simony's words. Fingers trembling on her bow even as she levels it at the woman who might claim to be Verna's mother but has never actually been worthy of that title. "You-you! YOU LET THAT THING FEED ON HER!" The arrow all but falls from her fingers rather than arcing through the air properly. She can't help but think of all the years lost to them. All the time that has slipped through their fingers and she doesn't know how or if they'll be able to get them back. They have to.

Magic sings through her blood and she forgets her bow in her hands for a moment. An arrow is too good for this woman. "You are going to *pay*."

GAME: Aelwyn rolls acrobatics: (5)+10: 15
GAME: Aelwyn rolls acrobatics: (10)+10: 20
GAME: Aelwyn rolls perform/dance+2: (5)+10+2: 17
GAME: Aelwyn rolls intimidate: (15)+16: 31
GAME: Rune takes ten on acrobatics: (10)+25: 35
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+2+2: (13)+22+2+2: 39
GAME: Rune rolls damage1+1+1d6+8d6: aliased to 1d6+3+1+1d6+8d6: (4)+3+1+(4)+(26): 38

When the statue turns, Aelwyn looks over Harkashan. That was _not_ a nice looking blow - but the big lavastone surely could handle a bit of ugly silvery statue thrown at their way. With the everything now swaying in the air, Aelwyn takes in a deep breath and raises his glaive. "Take heart - for this shan't be nothing but hindrance." He tells the others.

And then he is off running into the mess. Lowering his glaive down to the floor, letting it light flame and sparks. His body sways, and he neatly hops to avoid a slash - and then he slams his blade overhead and down onto the ground, before ascending onto the heights.

Toes hooked onto the polearm, he points at the evil of the day. "One shall be brought down," He seethes, his hand sparking into flames. "And then there shan't be nothing left to mourn - not even the earth shall desire the dust."

If Rune wasn't already horrified by the statue's aesthetically-displeasing chest, the moment that it starts to sag and then extend into long tendrils has her twisting a disgusted expression. "Seriously. That's your kink? What the fuck?"

Of course, she takes matters a bit more seriously when it is her mate who ends up on the receiving end of the attacks that follow. "Hark!" All humor is gone from her face as her pulse kicks up with worry. There is a split second where she nearly gives in to the panic, but the fact that the Makari doesn't seem fully downed is enough to give her the confidence to turn her attention towards the statue.

"Okay, tall dark and ugly. No one messes with my man other than me." Rune rushes forward, dodging around tendrils that are lashing around her, and then moves to flank the golem with Aelwyn on her opposite side. One blade slices out, though it doesn't do quite as much damage as one might expect. Or perhaps exactly as much. Golems are known for being particularly tough to harm.

GAME: Harkashan rolls Cleric+Wisdom: (20)+14+7: 41
GAME: Harkashan casts Heal. Caster Level: 14 DC: 23

Cor'lana's stricken by the appearance of the statue and by the violence happening all around. The revelation that Verna's been artificially aged sits poorly with her. So poorly that something in her gentle violet eyes, glowing softly with spellwork, breaks.

She rages, her scowl like that of--

"No." The word falls from her mouth with the spark of mana, and she sticks her hands out. She draws on powerful magic, her fingers motioning like she has fibers around her hands and she's pulling on them. Finally, the last words fall from her mouth:

"I Wish for Alud'rigan, the Feathered One, to come join us in combat and valor."

A portal opens...

GAME: Ravenstongue casts Wish. Caster Level: 20 DC: 27
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+33: (11)+33: 44
GAME: Verna rolls 4d10+11: (23)+11: 34
GAME: Harkashan rolls Cleric+Wisdom: (3)+14+7: 24
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+8: (10)+8: 18
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+31: (6)+31: 37
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+31: (7)+31: 38

The liquid metal tindrils retract into the shiny Varyaas-golem and its form re-solidifies. It then lifts one fist and the opposite foot: one for the stabbing Rune on one side and the other for the stubborn scaled one that refused to squish.

GAME: Verna rolls 4d10+11: (17)+11: 28
GAME: Verna rolls 4d10+11: (21)+11: 32

Tendrils reach forth, and Harkashan is quick to raise his shield. But he's quickly being slung across the room. Having to dig in his claws. Each strike threatening to break his bones. Metal erupting across his body, bruising his scales and bending metal. Breaking some of those precious lava-stones upon his armor. Harkashan might have roared in pain, but he refuses to give that satisfaction in that moment.

Instead, after spitting out blood, he begins to chant louder. "I'm okay." He calls out to Rune, as he tries to move into position with her. Tendrils still lashing at him. Unable to roll out of their way as he brings his spells to bear. Healing his bones in the midst of being struck. Scales re-knitting as he takes those hits. A wave of divine power ringing out from his very voice!

GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+20: (17)+20: 37
GAME: Verna rolls 1d4+2: (2)+2: 4
GAME: Verna rolls 1d8+2: (1)+2: 3

Varyssa snorts at Auranar. Despite the distraction of the pain, she seems quite confident. Enough that she re-sheathes her rapier as she steps up to Auranar. Not only does she appear genuine in wanting her alive, her disdain continues to be apparent: the swing at Auranar is not even a proper strike and is made with the back of her hand.

Immediately after, she is surprised again by Cor'lana's magic portal. "How dare you?! Not in my demesnes!"

Her other free hand snapdraws the dragonspitter from her belt, aims at her and fires all in one motion.

GAME: Telamon casts Wish. Caster Level: 20 DC: 28

Telamon's expression turns... cold. And terrible. His sister, aged unnaturally. Another slapped. His wife creased with a gunshot. Smoothly, he glides out of Varyssa's reach. His voice takes on a frightening timbre, reverberating. "You were warned."

He draws a prism from his haversack, six inches tall, glistening. Diamond. And he holds it aloft. "I am Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon, and I have a Wish," he thunders, the prism flashing incandescent. "That the days and years stolen from my sister, Verna Lupecyll-Atlon, be returned to her... taken from her hateful captor, Varyssa Calana'el!" Tel's eyes flare with starlight. "I WILL IT TO BE SO."

GAME: Simony casts Stone Shape. Caster Level: 16 DC: 18

The Goblin is giving Verna a professional look-over, her expression grim. Eyeing the manacles remaining on the limp Half-Sil, Simony huffs. "Fine, I shall take everything at once." Her holy symbol, the tilted hourglass of Navos, begins to glow brightly as a pale hand pats at the stone floor. A brief prayer is said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Another pat with her hand, and the stone ripples, beginning to flow like water as the pale woman guides it with her hands. Quickly the wooden poles are pulled free, and with an unladylike grunt from the Goblin, Verna is carried away, chains and wooden poles clattering along behind them.

"I got her free!"

Things like structural integrity or physics can never stand before gobber ingenuity. It is good that Simony is strong, as Verna is apparently not; she was supported by the posts and chains as much or moreso than bound by them. She crumples into Simony's care.

She is weak, frail, and old, still. All regardless of Telamon's considerable power and will. but at least she is somewhat mobile, now.

GAME: Auranar rolls Bluff: (14)+5: 19
GAME: Auranar casts Bestow Curse. Caster Level: 9 DC: 19
GAME: Auranar rolls Will: (17)+11: 28

Auranar's dark eyes are harsh as she strikes back at the woman who had hit her. Such a casual blow means nothing to her. Doesn't slow her down, doesn't even hurt (not yet). "Curse you." The magic boiling inside her flows forth but something happens as it leaves her and it turns. Twists. "Everything you've done will be done unto you, you *bitch*. Every breath stolen, every year taken. Your spell turning can't protect you forever."

She wonders though, where it came from. She hadn't seen it cast... which might mean that someone else did it but... Wouldn't Telamon and Cor'lana see someone else? It doesn't matter. She'll wear the woman down if she has to.

GAME: Aelwyn rolls perform/dance+2: (2)+10+2: 14
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+1+1+2+2: (19)+22+1+1+1+2+2: 48 (THREAT)
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+1+1+2+2: (2)+22+1+1+1+2+2: 31
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+1+1+2+2-2: (10)+22+1+1+1+2+2+-2: 37
GAME: Rune rolls weapon2+1+1+1+2+2-2: (20)+22+1+1+1+2+2+-2: 47 (THREAT)
GAME: Rune rolls weapon2+1+1+1+2+2-2: (14)+22+1+1+1+2+2+-2: 41
GAME: Rune rolls weapon2+1+1+1+2+4-7: (2)+22+1+1+1+2+4+-7: 26
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+1+1+2+4-12: (20)+22+1+1+1+2+4+-12: 39 (THREAT)
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+1+1+2+4-12: (12)+22+1+1+1+2+4+-12: 31
GAME: Rune rolls weapon2+1+1+1+2+4-12: (6)+22+1+1+1+2+4+-12: 25

Aelwyn slides off his polearm, pointing his fingers back towards the other two swarming the golem. "Sail your blades fro openings! Ride the flames that guide me - and let us sink our blades truly in one!" He calls out, once again twirling his blade up in the air and thudding his polearm down in a steady beat.

It was not an attack per say - but he was drumming up the moment to be a dance of his making, even if the gruesome sight continued to unfold and be displayed behind him.

GAME: Harkashan uses an AoO! 0 remaining.
GAME: Aelwyn uses an AoO! 3 remaining.
GAME: Aelwyn uses an AoO! 2 remaining.
GAME: Harkashan rolls Khopesh+2+1+1+1: aliased to weapon1-strength+wisdom+2+1+1+1: (13)+0+-1+7+2+1+1+1: 24
GAME: Rune rolls damage1+damage1+3+3+1d6+8d6: aliased to 1d6+3+1d6+3+3+3+1d6+8d6: (6)+3+(3)+3+3+3+(2)+(31): 54
GAME: Rune rolls damage2+damage2+3+3+1d6+8d6: aliased to 1d6+3+1d6+3+3+3+1d6+8d6: (5)+3+(1)+3+3+3+(5)+(34): 57
GAME: Rune rolls damage1+3+1d6+8d6: aliased to 1d6+3+3+1d6+8d6: (1)+3+3+(5)+(29): 41
GAME: Rune rolls damage1+3+1d6+8d6: aliased to 1d6+3+3+1d6+8d6: (4)+3+3+(2)+(34): 46
GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon11-3+2+1+1+1+2+4: (14)+17+-3+2+1+1+1+2+4: 39
GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon11-3+2+1+1+1+2+4: (9)+17+-3+2+1+1+1+2+4: 34
GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage11+9+1d6+3: aliased to 1d10+6+9+1d6+3: (1)+6+9+(6)+3: 25
GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage11+9+1d6+3: aliased to 1d10+6+9+1d6+3: (3)+6+9+(1)+3: 22

The golem's strike slams into Rune, sending the rogue towards the ground. However, she rolls back to her feet and winces slightly, her hand moving to her side as she grits her teeth. It's obvious that she's taken a hard hit, but it isn't enough to take her out of the fight, not by a long shot.

"I'm with you, Aelwyn. Let's do this." The rogue slashes forward with her weapons, moving in time with the Makari in a dance of death. Where she strikes, he strikes, finding weak points in the defenses of the golem. At the end of the flurry, the rogue is panting for breath, but her expression is one of fierce joy at sharing the moment with Aelwyn. "Fuck yeah!" She calls out, grinning like a mad fool.

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+15: (9)+15: 24
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Hideous Laughter. Caster Level: 20 DC: 22
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+32: (2)+32: 34
GAME: Harkashan casts Destruction. Caster Level: 14 DC: 24

Harkashan tries his best, reaching out to the statue in the midst of one of its attacks. He's seeming to be getting better at anticipating its movements. In that moment, touching it, he tries to destroy the life within the statue. But it seems that he cannot overcome the resistance upon the construct, and the spell fizzles.

A man steps through the portal. Almost everyone here has met him before, and all have heard of him before in some shape or form. Yet he's dressed differently than normal. His long black hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail, and he's dressed from head-to-toe in a strange set of armor. A longsword, beautiful and gleaming, is in one of his black taloned hands. "I _was_ in the middle of a date," he says with a mildly begrudging tone.

"A date? Dressed like that?" Lana says, before she shakes her head. "Can you help my friends to the south with that golem?"

Grandfather might have a response, but his violet eyes fall onto Varyssa--and Auranar, who is trying her hardest to throttle Varyssa--and he growls. "No," he says, storming over with an inhuman swiftness. He reaches out with his taloned hand and goes to grasp his clawed hand around the woman's neck, but she's slippery, dodging out of the grasp nimbly.

Seeing this, Cor'lana murmurs a spell, knowing that spell-turning is a factor at hand here. The spell takes no hold on Varyssa. Instead, Cor'lana spots something, and her eyes go wide. "She's got a necklace! It's absorbing magic! The gem looks like it's duller now, though!"

The shiny golem looks far less shiny and far less like Varyssa... and more like a Yuletide ham shredded at a gobber family gathering. It lowers to one knee and ripples and then... a surge of magic bursts forth from it. From this, two things occur: first, much of its tattered form mends itself making it look much nearer to its original form; second, the edge of the wave just reaches Varyssa, who then moves, and rapidly so.

She darts past The Feathered One to the one that summoned him. Into HER DEMENSES. "How dare you, you insignificant worm!" She once again uses her hand, though this time it is balled into a fist, while the other discards the pistol to be raised with it.

GAME: Telamon rolls detectBS: aliased to sense motive: (13)+29: 42
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+29: (13)+29: 42
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+22: (20)+22: 42
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+22: (18)+22: 40
GAME: Verna rolls 1d4+10d6: (2)+(33): 35
GAME: Verna rolls 1d4: (2): 2
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Fortitude: (1)+13: 14 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Fortitude: (9)+13: 22
GAME: Verna rolls 2d6: (5): 5

One might think Varyssa would punch Cor'lana in the face, as much as so many want to do the same to her, but no. Instead, she bobs and weaves enough that even Telamon, the husband, becomes something of a distraction for Cor'lana. Then she strikes, stepping close to jab two knuckles forcibly into the lower lumbar reason into a nerve cluster. Which Cor'lana has not had moved. In addition to the significant pain, Cor'lana finds her legs, arms, and most all else suddenly decide to complain and cease to function.

GAME: Telamon casts Suffocation/Quicken. Caster Level: 20 DC: 28
GAME: Telamon casts Suffocation/Persistent. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26

Telamon's eyes widen in anger and fear as Lana is felled by Varyssa's blows. The rage flowing through him is a cold thing, and suddenly killing magic is washing out of him, lashing at Varyssa as he snarls, "Grandfather, go for her necklace! That's what's deflecting our spells!" The suffocating spells beat at Varyssa's defenses, seeking her breath, as he steps forward to cover Lana's body.

GAME: Simony rolls heal: (5)+14: 19
GAME: Simony rolls heal: (12)+14: 26
GAME: Simony casts Blessing of Fervor. Caster Level: 16 DC: 19
GAME: Auranar rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (5)+15: 20

Verna is carefully laid out upon the ground, the chains and wooden poles arranged before her, hopefully providing a modicum of protection. Simony sighs, again checking the woman out, feeling for a fever, peeling back her eyelids to check pupil dilation. A frown forms on the Goblin's face as she stands.

Striding resolutely to the continuing scuffle near the dais, she lifts a hand to her holy symbol, her voice rising in prayer.

Holy Raven, Keeper of all Knowledge, aid my companions in their struggle. Guide their hand, and bolster their courage."

As the light fades, she yells out, "Stop trying to spell her, and JUST HIT HER!"

GAME: Auranar rolls CMB+1+1+1+2: (3)+5+1+1+1+2: 13
GAME: Auranar rolls CMB+1+1+1+2: (8)+5+1+1+1+2: 18

Realizing that the necklace is the source of their inability to harm the woman, Auranar goes for an old trick, but not a bad one. She tries to yank the chain off of the other woman's neck but the effort is ineffective and she's left grasping only air. "Grandfather, would you mind helping me by *throttling* this woman?" Auranar growls angrily.

GAME: Aelwyn rolls perform/dance+2: (16)+10+2: 28
GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon11-3+2+1+1+1+2+4+2: (20)+17+-3+2+1+1+1+2+4+2: 47 (THREAT)
GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon11-3+2+1+1+1+2+4+2: (5)+17+-3+2+1+1+1+2+4+2: 32
GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon11-3+2+1+1+1+2+4+2: (10)+17+-3+2+1+1+1+2+4+2: 37
GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon11-3+2+1+1+1+2+4+2-5: (3)+17+-3+2+1+1+1+2+4+2+-5: 25
GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon11-3+2+1+1+1+2+4+2-10: (2)+17+-3+2+1+1+1+2+4+2+-10: 19
GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+1+1+2+4: (15)+22+1+1+1+2+4: 46
GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage11+9+1d6+3: aliased to 1d10+6+9+1d6+3: (6)+6+9+(1)+3: 25
GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage11+9+3: aliased to 1d10+6+9+3: (10)+6+9+3: 28
GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage11+9+3: aliased to 1d10+6+9+3: (1)+6+9+3: 19
GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage11+9+3: aliased to 1d10+6+9+3: (7)+6+9+3: 25
GAME: Rune rolls damage1+3+1d6+8d6: aliased to 1d6+3+3+1d6+8d6: (5)+3+3+(5)+(29): 45
GAME: Rune takes ten on Disable Device+7: (10)+32+7: 49

There's a maniacal, lictorish grin returned to Rune - or joyful, it is hard to tell with makari - and he lets out a rumbling laugh. "Now this is the true dance of the blade!" He calls out as his blade seems to flow in sync with Rune's. It looked like a dance - because that is what it was, a choreography of destruction.

Then there is a sudden crack. His blade embeds itself into the thing's side - and then disappears, leaving its mark running as cracks across the surface. And as the golem then finally cedes its claim to animation, Aelwyn slings his blade back over his shoulder. "Ha, this one always knew this one's blade knew its Twin." He flickers his tongue - and then turns around to face the rest of the scene.

"See, I told you we'd dance together. Maybe not quite the way you intended, but..." Rune smirks, obviously amused by the interplay and the way that her skills pair with the Makari's own. When the golem falls, she's quick to appraise the situation, realizing that the others have the Charneth woman in hand. This is their fight, anyways.

Instead, her gaze focuses onto Verna. Rather than announcing her intention, she just motions with her head so that Harkashan and Aelwyn can see her path. Then, she races at speed to the side of the ancient looking woman. "I've got you. Give me just a minute and I'll have these off."

Tools are pulled out, and Rune starts to work on Verna's other wrist, keeping an eye on the fight, incase something turns towards her unexpectedly.

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+15+2: (13)+15+2: 30
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+20: (15)+20: 35
GAME: Verna rolls 1d100: (21): 21
GAME: Verna rolls 1d4+2: (3)+2: 5
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+20: (1)+20: 21 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+15: (15)+15: 30
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+15+2+10: (14)+15+2+10: 41
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d8+12+10+2+1d6 bleed: (1)+12+10+2+(2 bleed): 27
GAME: Harkashan rolls 9d6: (38): 38

With Cor'lana paralyzed on the floor, her eyes looking up at nothing, Alud'rigan becomes a veritable storm. "_You_ will not touch my family," the Feathered One declares in all of the anger that he has in his body. Dangerously he lashes out with the blade, aiming for Varyssa's necklace on the first attempt but being distracted by Varyssa's fist lashing out at him--which draws no blood, but apparently serves as fine enough distraction that he misses his second swing as well.

The third, however, hits--

Agony wracks Alud'rigan's face as Varyssa has used her acrobatic prowess to divert the attack into his beloved grandson-in-law. "Telamon," he says softly, before rage contorts on his face again. "Get yourself and Cor'lana out of the melee. I will handle this. _Please_." There's an plea--he doesn't want to do that again, ever.

GAME: Harkashan casts Joyful Rapture. Caster Level: 14 DC: 23

Harkashan is having a rough time still. Watching everyone hurting, and feeling like he's not able to contribute the way some of his allies are. With that necklace stopping him from interceding in any way and harming the villainous lady of this demesne, he instead turns to healing those who can make that difference.

But there, at the corner of his gaze, also lies Verna. Crumpled. Broken in spirit and physical. He grimaces at the whole sight. That anger from earlier still heavy and carried deep within him. Yet, he draws out something very different from those feelings.

"Verna! We're all here for you! Your wife is here! The Death Singing Dragon still has need of you. Awaken!" As a beautiful pearlescent-rainbow light flashes out from his remaining Lavastones upon his armor, ringing out in a glittering sound. Livening up the place, and encouraging her and his allies.

GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+15: (11)+15: 26

Varyssa tsks at the swordplay mockingly. "You seem out of practice, Feathered One. Fair form, wrong target." She takes a step back from the Lupecyll-Atlon clan pile, though her eyes linger on the most recent (and dramatically) arriving uninvited guest. "Alud'rigan... I have heard your name before. You should take your family while they can still go, and leave mine with me. While you still can."

From the corner of the floor, Verna stirs; not much more than lifting her head to see what is happening, but it is some invigoration from Harkashan's inspirational words and magic. "..Aura..." It may be the first time she's consciously realized she, and they, are here.

Meanwhile, Varyssa's eyes then shift from The Feather One to the recently-bleeding Telamon and then to Auranar (she could eye Cor'lana, but why?). "Leave her to me. Do you think you are the only ones present with allies and boons? You are mistaken."

One empty hand reaches behind her back, into the dim of her own shadow. When her hand returns, it is not empty and she is armed with a sword. One that most of the Lupecyll-Atlons know of. One that Alud'rigan would likely recognize. One that Cor'lana herself carried for a time.

And Verna's happy feeling evaporates.

GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+Sorcerer+9: (9)+20+9: 38
GAME: Telamon casts Telekinetic Sphere. Caster Level: 20 DC: 27

The sword-slash hurts, but what hurts Telamon more is the horrified look on Grandfather's face. He knows it's not Alud'rigan's fault, and he can't help but try to lighten the blow. "Easy, Grandfather, you're going to let the wine out." Then Harkashan's magical healing washes over him, knitting his wounds. "You are -not- going to win this, you bitch--"

And then he sees that sword come out. His mind races. How? Why? Those thoughts are discarded as irrelevant at this point -- now he has to protect Lana, and himself. "Dimma sa, ellag namsita gur irhandi!" he chants, and a shimmering bubble wraps around himself and his wife. As the two float away from the brawl, he shouts to the others. "Beware! That's Mortal Dread, a true-death weapon!" He grits his teeth. "As if this couldn't get more complicated..."

GAME: Simony rolls knowledge/arcana: (4)+10: 14
GAME: Simony rolls knowledge/arcana: (3)+10+5: 18
GAME: Simony casts Fire Storm. Caster Level: 16 DC: 23
GAME: Simony rolls 16d6: (63): 63
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+21: (12)+21: 33
GAME: Auranar rolls CMB+1+1+1+2+2: (13)+5+1+1+1+2+2: 25

Simony stands there for long moments, watching the confused and painful looking scuffle at close quarters. She flinches visibly at Telamon's wound, and looks grateful at his speedy healing provided by Harkashan. Rune's busy freeing Verna. Aelwyn's dancing.

Her hammer is pulled free as she moved a little closer, but is held at her side.

"Grandfather, with the utmost respect, I ask you to step away. This weapon will harm your kind two-fold." Still, her eyes darted back and forth, and upon Telamon's warning, she stares at Varyssa. "So far, you've targeted her. What if... what if you just target the ground she's standing on?!" The little holy symbol glows, and the Goblin prays for a pillar of fire to smite her foe.

Navos grants her prayer, and for a few moments, the space around Varyssa is filled with roaring fire.

And when it sputters out, the woman... IS SEEMINGLY UNHARMED!

"This... bitch here..."

GAME: Auranar rolls CMB+1+1+1+2+2: (19)+5+1+1+1+2+2: 31

"Grandfather, all of you stay back until I have her pinned!" Auranar won't risk a blow from her bow falling upon one of her allies, won't risk her grandfather being harmed by that weapon. Her dark eyes narrow and she reaches out, wrestling with Varyssa for dominance. Somehow, by the grace of the gods she manages to do it. Getting her hands around the woman's throat and she almost cheers with her victory as she squeezes. Suffocating the woman whose done such harm to her wife and so many, many others. "This, is the end for you." She hisses into Varyssa's ear.

GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon11+-3+2+1+1+1+2+2: (12)+17++-3+2+1+1+1+2+2: 35
GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage11+9+1d6+3+2: aliased to 1d10+6+9+1d6+3+2: (9)+6+9+(6)+3+2: 35

The others were out there to help Verna. There is some kind of kerfuffle going on with the witch of the week. Fire - plenty of fire. Aelwyn rolls his glaive around himself and then rushes forth, his feet light due to strange elation that had overwhelmed him. As he makes a wide circle, he hoists up his finger and points it at Varyssa. "You will fall." He flatly states.

The burning glaive swings out in a wide arc. Heaving his chest, the Dragoon slices across the air, slicing into its intended victim.

"And all shall cheer for it." He rumbles as he straightens his blade.

Rune is close enough to hear that uttered word from Verna's lips. Close enough to offer words of support, "She's here. We're all here. Just hang on. We're going to get you out of here." The wrist manacle is tossed to the side.

Then, the rogue looks up to see the weapon that appears in the hands of Varyssa. It is enough to bring a cold feeling to the pit of her stomach. She presses her lips together, then forces her eyes to look away. She would have to trust that her friends can handle the situation.

Instead, Rune shifts to freeing one of Verna's ankles, the picks grinding against the metal of the lock, "Come on come on, faster damnit."

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+20+10+2: (2)+20+10+2: 34
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+20+10+2: (12)+20+10+2: 44
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+15+10+2: (19)+15+10+2: 46
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+15+10+2+4: (11)+15+10+2+4: 42
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d8+12+10+2: (7)+12+10+2: 31
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d6: (3): 3
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d8+12+10+2+1d6 bleed: (6)+12+10+2+(3 bleed): 33
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d8+12+10+2+1d6 bleed: (7)+12+10+2+(5 bleed): 36

Alud'rigan chuckles gently the moment he sees the blade and everyone's reaction to it. "I should have known Her Majesty would be involved--although I hardly think she meant for you to use this against me, considering my history with her. Or maybe she did."

His violet eyes move to Auranar, and he shakes his head, smiling sadly at her. "My beloved rose," he says, "I have lived a long life. If I am to die here, then I am to die here--"

But then comes the unnatural speed as he raises up his blade. "But I will not die without a fight. Be a dear and keep her _still_." The last word is purred as Alud'rigan then delivers two solid strikes into Varyssa's form, and while the third coincides with a flash from Varyssa's bracelet--

The mul'niessa woman has a whole arm. And then it is only half. Below the elbow, the detached limb, holding Mortal Dread, falls to the floor. And Alud'rigan leans in closer to Varyssa, wanting the woman to see only his violet eyes as the breath is slipping from her windpipe. "I do think I am beginning to shake the _rust_ off, my dear enemy." He smiles, but malice radiates from every curve of his smile.

As the battle turns and a hand gets sliced off, Harkashan moves towards the Blade immediately. There's no like, cool dodge-roll. There is no flair. He just picks it up, and then runs off as quickly as his body allows him, until he finds himself next to Verna. Kneeling down next to her.

"Give me a bit, and I'll get you feeling all better again. Can't have you looking like this when your wife is ready." He glances her over. "Can't help with the clothing though. I don't know fashion very well."

GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+29: (12)+29: 41

The prior periodic pain (care of Auranar) was tolerated. This time, there is a scream. Two, in fact: one as she is slashed and another as she is dismembered. She does manage, if WEE MOMENT TOO LATE, to extricate herself from Auranar. She then cradles her bleeding stub to hastily stumble her way towards the small double doors to the east, leaving a trail of blood as she does so. For once, there is no smirk on her lips and no derision in her eyes. Instead, teeth are gritted in agony and there is ...fear. She looks at the others, though her rather frantic words are not directed to them. "I call our bargain due!"

A heartbeat passes.

The doors to the east open enough to reveal a short hallway as a man enters the room. A man with utterly black complexion and clothing to match. Yet still impeccably dressed, even moreso than Telamon and Varyssa (though perhaps neither would acknowledge it).

"I regret the interruption," Captain Doyle excuses himself. "I will not hinder you for long. I am here simply to reclaim Her Majesty's property."

GAME: Telamon rolls detectBS: aliased to sense motive: (18)+29: 47

Once again: unexpected but not unsurprising. Although Telamon really is inclined to ask -why- the bitch has the weapon... but, eh, not worth the effort. So he dismisses the sphere, lowering himself down and cradling Lana in his lap. "Easy, love. Just breathe. We'll get through this."

He looks at Harkashan, and tells him, "Hark, do exactly as I say. Hand the blade over to Captain Doyle. Do not speak -- even in jest. We are merely returning Her Majesty's property, nothing more, and we are not making any claims." Tel takes a deep breath, glaring at Varyssa.

GAME: Harkashan rolls Sense Motive: (9)+24: 33

Auranar looks at the Captain and frowns at him. The seriousness on her face not to be taken lightly. "Is Varyssa Calana'el among that which you intend to claim as Her Majesty's property, and if so, will she remain in Faerie from this time forward?" She needs to know the answer to the question.

"Yeah, her arm's off!", the Goblin cheers, having watched Grandfather fight with interest. As Captain Doyle appears through a pair of side doors, Simony sighs. She slowly makes her way to Telamon and Cor'lana, "Is she alright, Tel? What's she hit with?" Simony begins to inspect the couple, her holy symbol glowing as she channels the divine power of her God.

"Got it." Working with speed, Rune throws off the last of the ankle shackles and then grabs her tools, shoving them into her belt unceremoniously. Once all of Verna's limbs have been freed, she reaches over and slings one of the woman's arms over her shoulder, using her weight to heft the woman up onto her feet. "Lean on me. I've got you."

That's when she looks over to Harkashan, perhaps trying to figure out if he knows what could be going on with the aged woman. However, it looks as if his attention needs to be set elsewhere. So, Rune holds on to Verna with one arm, trying to keep the woman upright, but her eyes are darting between individuals. Watchful and wary.

GAME: Harkashan casts Regenerate. Caster Level: 14 DC: 24

When Telamon speaks to him, Harkashan nods his head. Fully prepared to give the blade away. He remains quiet on that matter as promised. It took him a moment. Making certain that Telamon wasn't under some kind of spell or domination. After all, Harkashan isn't familiar with this 'Doyle'. Of course, neither is Harkashan the type to quip or make light of a situation such as this.

Instead, he turns to Verna during this process, and prepares to start regenerating her body proper. "This will take me a bit. So make sure nothing comes my way and interrupts this." He does rumble to Rune. Drawing protective divine powers over her body and working on particular missing bodyparts and other aches and ails...

Alud'rigan watches the woman rush, and it seems the appearance of Captain Doyle is what prevents him from taking advantage of the moment. "Darkness!" he calls out in a jovial voice. It appears this is a friendly moniker for the Captain, and mirth burns in the Feathered One's eyes. "It has been... centuries. Far too long."

He walks, blade in hand but pointed down to the floor, looming a few steps away from Varyssa. "I think Her Majesty has better taste in people than this woman," he comments. "I have some first-hand experience with such." Here he smiles at Doyle. "That night was one I will always remember."

Despite Lana's paralysis, one can practically sense her discomfort with the conversational topic radiating off of her body.

Even relegated to mostly kneeling on the floor, arm cradled against her torso while the hand tries to staunch the flow of blood from her stump, Varyssa's fear seems to have flagged with Doyle's arrival. Auranar's question provokes a disdainful snort from her, though Doyle accepts the blade from Harksashan before she comments further. After peeling off the clutching forearm to toss aside, he respectfully stows the weapon on his person. "Yes, she is. Per her arrangement with Her Majesty. Hold no concern of her return. I will hinder you no longer." Doyle turns smartly on his heels and casually reaches down to clutch a handful of Varyssa's braids before stepping off to drag her behind like a piece of meat.

"What?! I am no one's property! I-" whatever is in Doyle's gaze down to her cuts off her protests immediately. He does not break stride as he continues back out the door to the hallway, though a few steps later he comments over his shoulder, "It appears that someone began the process of her new experiences to come. This would please Her Majesty, I think." He says nothing more before they move into the hall, the doors closing on a quiet whimper.

Auranar's bow falls out of her fingers and she rushes immediately toward Verna. Every instinct she has, has been screaming for her to do this from the very beginning and... She's crying. Crying like a child. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She hovers near Verna, but doesn't dare risk interrupting her wife's healing for the embrace that she craves. The lines on the other woman's face break her heart in ways she can't even conceive of. She falls to her knees then. "I"m so sorry."

Telamon blinks slowly, as Doyle drags Varyssa off. "Wow," he says after a long moment. "What an amazing disaster of a deal." Still supporting Lana, waiting for the paralysis to fade, he looks over to Verna and Auranar, and where Hark is working. "Aura, we'll fix it. I don't care how long it takes, we -will- restore her." He offers a reassuring smile. "Verna helped cure a curse on me a while back. How could I do anything less than help her?"

GAME: Simony rolls Sense motive: (14)+5: 19

While Rune may not follow everything that happens, it's enough when the woman is pulled away and they are left alone in the throne-room. She knows what is coming next, because it is exactly what she would do given Auranar's situation. So, when the woman drops to her knees, Rune follows, helping to lower Verna next to her.

She doesn't know the right words to offer comfort, so instead, Rune reaches out to try to lay a hand on Auranar's shoulder. "Be with her, that's what matters right now."

And with that, the rogue will ease back, trying to leave room for those who are far more magically inclined to help figure out what is going on, and how best to aid Verna.

"Mmm, not even a hello nor a goodbye. She really does have him on a tight timetable these days," Alud'rigan comments with almost a sad expression. He sighs softly, and he puts the blade away on his swordbelt. "Well, to more important matters."

He looks down the way at Lana and Telamon, but finally, Cor'lana moves again, breathing deeply and looking up at Telamon. "I could have done without the implication you and the Captain know each other intimately, Grandfather," she says, before rising to her feet. Her lips press together as she hears Auranar crying. Any other commentary slips immediately from her mind as she walks--slowly at first--to Auranar's side.

But it's Grandfather who closes the gap first, in all of his unnatural speed, appearing by Auranar's side and embracing her tightly. "I know, my little rose," he says softly. "I know. You did beautifully. I've got you. We've got her. Our family is _safe_." The last word is firm.

Simony watches as Varyssa is literally dragged way by the hair. As the door closes, she murmurs, "Another lesson on why you shouldn't deal with the Fae so carelessly." She nods to Telamon. "Hark and I will assist. I need to pray for different spells, but I think there's something we can do. She will have the care of at least two temples, and I have no doubt we can bring the other temples into assisting as well. She's been drained.. aged in some manner. It feels... like necromancy of some sort."

Her gaze goes to Grandfather, and then Cor'lana, and then back to Grandfather. "You're swordsmanship is exceptionally... sharp."

The Goblin rubs at her face then, peering at the far wall.

"What's the deal with that dress?" She slowly gets to her feet, and heads over towards it.

Verna, on the other hand (or with her other hand) has limited qualms given about regrowing fingers. Especially when Auranar is involved. She readily lowers (gravity is helpful) and switches from leaning on Rune to holding Auranar. Harkashan and/or Rune might have to help keep the hand-in-healing still, but it is easily done with the frail woman.

It matters not, as she still has a perfectly good arm to wrap around her wife; a full hand to hold her cheek. "Aura," the word is loosed softly through upturned, if wrinkled, lips. "Please, do not cry, love." She is still a bit hoarse, and keeps her words brief. "I would only ever see you smile."

-End