Vark dances amongst the ragged foes, deflecting their blows with supernatural skill. As Pathmaker knocks aside another strike, Vark spins back and extends a hand to Thurston with a mischievous grin. “Grab on, trust me.” Clouds are already gathering around the pair as the paladin nods and takes Vark’s hand. With a deafening boom the two vanish, leaving the enemies near them to be blasted with concussive thunder. They reappear on the other side of them and Vark hungrily presses the assault with a crackling fist full of lightning. His target sways from the previous impact and luckily dips just out of reach. As Vark misses, the blue lightning flares red for a moment and he growls.

Val laughs in the faces of the enemies as their weapons fail to penetrate her defenses, but as the cultist begins to chant a spell she whips her head around towards him. With a grunt, she thrusts Rook out and slams the head of the hammer into his chest, knocking the wind out of them and bruising their ribs! Before the cultist can recover, she whips Rook up in a downward swing and with another sickening crunch, she obliterates their head in a shower of blood, bone, and brain matter! One eyeball flies out and sticks to the armor of one of the other cultists. The body collapses with a wet thud as the black sparks kick up along the shaft of Rook. There was no more chances for the rest. She would finish them all here and now, even if they ran... They had their chance.

The bandit facing Bründir and Aiden catches the Norscan's blade on his own and strike back with his own precise strike, nimbly dancing to avoid the shocks arcing from Aiden's weapon.

Vark too is struck twice by a bandit's mace and Valaith suffers a bloody gash to her neck from a thrusting spear. 

"It is not boasting my friend " says Thurston smashing the skull of the enemy in front of him to pieces. "It's that they all are already dead. It's just they are so stupid to realize it. You got this?" he says To Vark looking at the remaining cultist atop the pyramid. He then jumps down and smash one the enemies that surrounds Val in the hip as he falls. Either it was stupid has he said or the desperation gave him strength, but he didn't fall. Instead he turned towards the norscan raising his weapon.

Bründir turns to the bandit making himself a thorn in his and Aiden's sides. A quick bump of his shield, and the dwarf sets his enemy back enough to swing between the two and put the man between Thor's fury and Moradin's champion.

Stuck between the men, the bandit begins to turn back to the priest who had just projected lightning through an ally. A flash of steel brought his guard up and his attention back to the dwarf, however. "Aiden, yer up! Eyes this way, lad. I'm still 'ere."

Using Bründir's taunts as a distraction, Aiden conjures a spectral hammer -- a near-perfect realization of Rikkazarik. The floating weapon responds to Aiden's commands and smashes the bandit over the head, giving Aiden an opening to drive his sword across the man's armor. 

Vark is rocked by the thug’s mace, but he stands strong and spits back an infernal retort. Searing red glyphs appear around the man before circling and locking in like crosshairs. Vark wastes no time in plunging a lightning sheathed hand through the sigil, connecting with the man’s stomach and pumping him full of painful volts. The thug attempts to pull back but in his fury Vark grabs tighter. The blue lightning shifts ruby red and continues to wrack the thug even as the red veins burn painfully up Vark’s forearm. When he finally releases, the enemy’s abdomen can be seen swelling up with blood and fluid as his muscles deteriorate from the shock.

Val looks up with a grin as Thurston suddenly appears beside her with a heavy impact. "Thurston! You try to take my kills!" She laughs suddenly with a bloodlust as she whirls Rook about with a skill that only one of her tribe could ever match. The massive hammer whooshes through the air from the incredible speed at which it's swung in a horizontal attack! The head smashes into the face of the first cultist, ripping flesh and crushing bone, as several teeth scattering... as the weapon continues it's impressive momentum into the neck of another cultist and snapping their neck, instantly dropping them to the ground like a boned fish. As the black sparks pop and sizzle up Rook, she turns to stare at the last cultist. "You are a fool to stand before the might of the Acharnost. No one can stand against us!"

Only three of the Morrigan's followers remain and they flail wildly at Aiden, Valaith and Vark, barely scratching their foes even as some of their number bleed out.

Thurston hits the remaining foe between him and Val in the shoulder, breaking it, making him drop his weapon. He spins and swings Rikkazarik in an upright arc, hitting the man in the lower jaw and throwing him up and away. The former follower of the Morrigan is dead before hitting the ground again. 

"Not stealing but share!" replies Thurston with a grin "Since when you are greedy?" he says laughing and looking around to see if even more of those idiots still have fight on them. He wasn't on the best of moods, but now that the fight seems to be finally on their side and fighting alongside her is clearly improving it. 

The bandit stuck between Aiden and Bründir wheels around, now caught between three attacks and panicking. Bründir delivers a powerful cut that re-centers the man's focus on the dwarf, "Lad, look at me! Oi! Look 'ere!" A breath of clarity keeps his attention as the dwarf speaks, "You ****s had a chance an' passed on it. Now there's hell t'pay fer it."

Aiden's hammer smashes the bandit around the skull once more, and the man turns to face Aiden. Their blades clash once with a screech of steel, and Aiden feints low, then takes the bandit's arm as he moves to block. Before the bandit can even scream, Aiden charges in and pushes his blade straight through the bandit's chest, ending any such outburst before it could begin. He pulls his sword free, the metal slick with blood, and nods to Bründir. "Well fought," he says, his normally lilting accent rough and low from exertion.

Vark dodges and deflects the dying man’s attacks, using Pathmaker’s shaft as a shield. Another feeble strike comes for him and with ease he knocks the thug’s mace down, avoiding the strike and leaving the man wide open. Now Vark charges up his hand once more as he raises it and with one swift, dismissive motion he backhands his foe. There is a static pop as the slap connects and the man falls with a singed imprint of Vark’s hand on his face. Trails of red miasma drift from the man to reinvigorate the warlock as he turns to the others. “That’s all of them right?”

Bründir's shoulders sag under the weight of Karakalad's stout plates and his arm hang limp for a moment. Surveying the area, he sees several still covering by the entry stairs, and Vark dispatching the last of the resistance. The fierce display actually brought a smile when the dwarf remembered Vark as the hesitant Sorcerer who barely conjured Fog and sparks just months ago. Aiden's conpliment reach through his helmet as he turned to see the warrior-priest accompanied by a spectral hammer, "Did well, yerself. We made a good team there."

Bründir then turns to those surrendered near the outskirts, "Come forward, hands shown an' weapons gone!"

A dozen men (and a few women) step fowards, blades, axes and bows strewn on the ground around them and their empty hands in front. Most bow their heads or otherwise avoid eye contact.

Aiden sheaths his sword and moves over to the group of surrendered beings. He searches with magically heightened senses, feeling out for any other-worldly presences. But aside from a haze of fiendish, foul-smelling energy in the air, nothing peaks his interest with those senses. His keen blue eyes scan their faces, searching for something -- something other than shame or defiance.

He found it in a shifty-looking forest gnome that keeps side-eyeing him. Not quite what he was hoping for, but different enough to be useful. "You," Aiden says, wagging a finger at the gnome, "Come with me." 

Drawing the gnome out of earshot of the others, he looks keenly down at the being. "You obviously have something to say. Say it," he says.

Before Aiden goes and get the gnome. Thurston sees him looking around and the cultists.

"You know Aiden" he says at his side, in a normal tone of voice, but in the normally loud Thurston it sounds like low voice. "It looks like demons, tastes like demons and smells like demons... I'll bet this cretins where in league with demos. We should make sure none of them are still infected."

He closes his eyes and let's Thor power run through him, enhancing his senses to detect that kind of presences.

"This ones seems to be clean" he says to his friend after a few seconds, just before the cleric goes and grab the gnome.

"You beat them," the gnomes observes, with a nod of respect. He glances past Aiden, giving each member of the Acharnost an appraising look. "What follows will be chaos - it's always the way. I expect that the looting has already begun. My name is Brock. Spare me and I can help you. I can show you where the sisters kept their treasures."

"Spare you?" says Thurston looming over the gnome "So you can go and join another band of thieves and prey on the travelers and caravans? No. You've sealed your destiny when you choose to join the Sisters. All of you did." 

"Thurston, please," Aiden says, patting the air in a placating gesture. "Alright, Brock. Why do you know where the sisters kept their treasure? Why did they trust you with this knowledge?"