Bründir turns to Valaith as the others set off on their errand, "Been a while. We should go meet our new friends down below. Maybe there's a kitchen we can stop at? Food's a good way t'get people friendly an' talkin'." Bründir gathers his own things and gets ready to set off.

Aiden, Thurston and Vark make their way down a flight of stairs that runs parallel to the corridor where the sisters slept. On the northern side of the hallway below, doors open onto the fortress's central courtyard. The wind still whistles eerily between the mountains as the trio step out into the night. All around, the flagstones are strewn with corpses. Clearly the Morrigan's men turned on each other once it became clear that their mistresses had fallen. The tang of iron hangs heavy on the air as Aiden makes his way towards the nearest horse trough. The stone basin is brimming with rainwater after the thunderous storm that had raged as they fought.

Aiden wrinkles his nose at the smell of blood and sick that hangs in the air as he looks down at the moonlight reflecting in the water. "Here goes nothing," he says, and unsheathes the blade. In the direct moonlight, it seems to shine brightly -- even more so than normal steel's reflection. Aiden's eyes raise in astonishment at the sight, and he shoots a quick look at Vark and Thurston, but then returns his attention to the weapon.

"Lady Freya, bless this blade with your power so that we may know your strength and use it in your name," Aiden mutters, and dips the blade into the water. 

A blinding light strikes the three members of the Archarnost, leaving their eyes struck sightless for a few moments. A lilting voice in Aiden's head vocalizes a strange, fading melody that falls, then rises, and then falls again. The brightness in Aiden's eyes flows away with the sound of a babbling brook and he sees, just for a moment, a secluded lake of water clear as finest-cut crystal. Then the lake fades and he draws forth the sword from the trough of rainwater -- now clearly a local far too shabby for such a weapon. The blade glows a pure white. "I...I..." Aiden stammers, almost stating that he doesn't believe it. But he can't not believe it. The proof is there in his hands, glowing as the moon on a clear night. He turns to Vark and Thurston, his eyes wide -- as surprised as the pair have every seen him.

Vark recoils as the gleaming light hits his eyes, but even as his mundane vision is blinded the outline of the arcane matrix now active around the sword can be seen through the searing white. “Aiden you were right!” he says, bouncing supernaturally high as the air around him rushes up along with his excitement. “This  sword is a relic! Here let me- oh I mean, if you don’t mind...” Vark almost seems hesitant to touch the sword out of reverence for the sacred blade. He has Aiden hold the weapon out as he begins scanning the illuminated steel with the ruby light of the codex. A stern hand on his shoulder interrupts him however, as Thurston nods up to something moving along the battlements.

Aiden pulls his shield from around his shoulders and down onto his arm as he watches the movement on the walls. "We have slain many of your comrades today. If you want to meet your maker, by all means, come forward."

When they come out Thurston can smell the blood and gore even with his face covered by the rag. He shakes his head as they see the corpses of the Morrigan's former forces. 

When Aiden bathes the sword into the water and it explodes in bright light he covers his eyes and turns around to protect them and avoid being blinded. He is going to say something to his friend about the sword when he notices movement up in the battlements. Drawing his comrades attention to it he grabs Rikkazarik and prepares to fight. 

Aiden's challenge is met by a hail of crossbow bolts from the battlements on the far side of the courtyard. The archers are shooting from quite a distance and only two strike Aiden's shield. Another two lodge in Thurston's plate, while one more rebounds off of Vark's chain shirt.

Crimson light surges from the ruby up along Vark's veins where it crackles and turns blue as he draws from the relic's power to fuel his own internal stores. "I'm going after them." He utters a primordial word that echoes with faint thunder and blasts off into the air, shooting straight up first before angling towards the archers.

Quickly reloading their crossbows, the men on the walls pepper Vark with another volley of bolts, knocking the sorcerer about as they glance off of his armour.

Aiden glances enviously after Vark as he alights to the air, then turns to Thurston to make a comment about running -- but the winged helmet on Thurston's head catches his eye, and he grunts in frustration. "Try not to kill all of them before I get there," he says, and then begins sprinting across the courtyard, shield raised above his head as if he'd just jumped from a longship on a Breannian shoreline. 

"Can't make any promises my friend " says Thurston starting spinning Rikkazarik " You had your own fun after all, remember?" 

Not knowing how his helmet really works, Thurston just throw Rikkazarik into the air and this time he doesn't let it go, felling that the mighty hammer will lead the way and the magic of the helmet will just kick of and keep him in the air.

Rikkazarik lurches forwards as Thurston throws it, dragging the paladin up off the ground and sending him soaring into the air, entirely without the assistance of the magical helmet.

Vark throws a wild grin back at Thurston as the Norscan takes his first flight. “There ya go!” he shouts before turning back towards the archers and continuing his approach. As he plots his plan of attack, his free hand finds the codex and draws another surge of power from it.

Vark's rocketing flight is met by another massed volley of crossbow bolts. Although none injure the half-orc severely, he finds himself rapidly running out of energy as several solid blows to his chain-clad abdomen knock the wind from his lungs.

Aiden watches Thurston fly up into the air, led by his hammer, and his mood further sours. "Wonderful," the cleric mutters as he continues running.

Vark closes in on the battlement despite the hail of arrows and digs deep into his last bit of dwindling energy. His voice booms out like sudden thunder and the incantation is echoed by the storm now rapidly forming above the bandits. With a swift motion he swipes Pathmaker down through the air before him and again the storm echoes his intent; only this time it's with a brilliant streak of lightning. The discharge sears and scatters three of the enemies and Vark continues flying, now aiming to take cover by hovering above the dark mass of cloud.

The men on the battlements scramble to reload their crossbows. However, with Vark vanishing from sight amongst the clouds, the bandits now aim their weapons at Thurston. Three crossbow bolts clang against the paladin's armour as he streaks through the air, pulled along by the dwarven hammer in his hand, and another whistles over his shoulder, just barely missing the Norscan. Despite the impacts that knock him left and right as he flies, Thurston is too lost in his battlerage to care.

Val watches the others depart, thinking that splitting the group yet again was likely not the smartest of choices, but it would seem the Brundir was intent on going to see the prisoners and she did not want him wandering alone in this place. "Yes, I shall come with as well. I could go for something to eat and drink." As the wander along, quietly for a time, Val suddenly turns to Brundir with a frown. "Why do your people hate mine so much?"

Thurston spins over his axis a little bit at the start of his flight. He was expecting the pull from the helmet not from Rikkazarik itself!  Then the archers shoot at him and he barely notices it, enraged as he was by their stupidity. They didn't want to flee or surrender? Well, they had sealed their destiny. 

Screaming, he soared the sky in direction of the battlement and stretched his arm to give him more impulse forward and up. The pain on his tendons and muscles enraged him more. Not without effort he raised the arm that was holding the mighty hammer to stop his flight and fall in the middle of them. A Lighting came down into Rikkazarik and with a thunderous landing Thurston reached the top of the battlement and hit the ground with the hammer. 

The thunderous wave threw three of the archers away. One of them, fell from the high walls and screamed as he met the ground, thirty feet down, with a thud. 

Thurston stood, slowly, his rage burning on his chest, he looked to the archers. 

"You are in trouble now..." he says and another thunder filled the sky. He started spinning Rikkazarik on his hand ready for battle.

Hearing the thunderous impact of Thurston beneath him, Vark smiles and descends from the clouds. He takes a deep breath in and exhales an infernal curse, reaching out with one ruby claw and marking one of the unlucky souls below. With the same hand he reaches back above him and grabs on to a stray bolt that leaps to meet him before hurling it down like a spear with another deafening CRACK! Again the archers are wracked with searing pain, especially the one who now bears his curse.