The gravity of being overwhelmed weighs on Bründir, and his face makes a visible change, "How fast can we get outta there? Flyin's all well n' good, but we can't get ev'ryone out without a few trips."

"I will stay here" Nakia interjects. "And would appreciate some company. If I were Marcellus, I would be considering a similar course of action to you. We need to be ready to cut off any sabotage." 

Matteo looks around the table, "Jex would suggest no noise until the assassination is done, as Vark suggests, this could make everyone more aware. Any fire, lightening or armoured clanking should be in response to hearing an alarm raised. I will help Vark take Val and Didymus into the camp, though I have no stomach for killing a man in his sleep, I will trust them to make their own judgement."

"So... maybe anyone who can't be sneaky or fly should stay here," Vark turns to the dwarven bard. "I'm sorry Bründir, but Nakia is right. I wouldn't be surprised if Marcellus has the ability to scry on us, if he sees us leaving Sheercleft wide open he might try something. So you and Seid could stay here with Nakia to defend the town; Me, Didymus, Val and Matteo will go for the wizard; and Aiden and Thurston can wait for our cue to fly over and drop thunder and lightning on their seige equipment. Does that sound like a good plan?"

Bründir slumps over a map before him at Vark's plan, "Sure, yeah, I'll stay 'ere, wavin' ma pecker in th' wind at ghosts till ye get back from yer fun. Best be sure when Marcellus gets 'ere, I'm putting Dumdrengi up 'is arse 'fore any o'ye say 'go'."

"We've put some guards to look for possible sabotage already" points Thurston "But as many eyes on this as possible will be good. Then we have a plan. No sound until the deed is done. Then...." a thunder sounds in the sky outdoors and the paladin smirks. 

Four days have passed since the return of the half-elf formerly known as Jex, when the Acharnost mount up and ride out south-east down Quenlan pass to ambush Sir Marcellus and his entourage. Based on the report from Ix's kobold scouts, the oncoming army is expected to be roughly ten or eleven leagues from Sheercleft when the Acharnost reach it. Fortunately, the goatkin and steam gnomes that lurk in the narrow pass give the band of heavily armed and armoured warriors a wide berth as they travel. Without delays, the horses make good time and Ix's estimate proves correct.

The dusk sky is tinged orange and pink over the mountaintops when Valaith's nose begins to twitch to the acrid scent on the wind. The army can be heard before it is seen, boots pounding the earth as they march.

Vark notices how shaggy his hair has grown as the wind whips through it, tousling his red streaked locks and tugging at his father's royal blue cloak which is clasped around his shoulders. Toivoa carries him swiftly through the narrow mountain pass alongside his companions towards the grim task they face. A whole army lies ahead of them, and the enormity of the challenge has set Vark's heart thudding nearly as hard as the groups' hoof falls the entire way. The mage brings Toivoa to a stop as Val signals that she's caught wind of something, and soon the sounds of their enemies approaching reaches Vark as well. He reaches out one hand and there is a flash of red as Pathmaker materializes, coalescing from lightning that pours out of Vark's ruby veins. His signature spear has been strangely absent this entire time, and as it finally appears it is clear why.

It's early, an hour or so before the Acharnost are meant to ride out down Quenlan pass. Vark sits in the center of the library, Seid watching curiously nearby. A circle of glowing red symbols is projected around him from the runestone in his hands, and on the ground before him lies Pathmaker.

"It'll probably mean I won't be able to access some of the codex's more advanced features, but it should make Pathmaker more effective in combat." he explains as he continues the ritual, allowing the magic spear to attune to the magic of the runestone. The spear begins to float as it's own arcane matrix begins to synchronize with the frequency emitted by the ruby, hovering just a few inches off the floor. At this moment Vark sets the codex on top of the spear, right at the junction where the blade and shaft meet the sculpted wings. Vark holds his hands above this point and with visible effort on his face begins to push downwards. Red sparks arc out as the ruby seems to melt down and across Pathmaker's surface, devouring the steel and leaving fractals of glowing red in its wake. Sharp, geometric shapes replace the soft, swooping contours of the wings. The blade is rendered faintly translucent as the steel is transmuted into deep red crystal, impossibly thin and razor sharp. Pathmaker is transformed before their eyes, and as Vark rises off the floor his runestone weapon floats up to meet his hand. 

"Uhm... should we hide and wait for them to make camp?" he asks looking around at the others, particularly Matteo. This had been his specialty after all.

Matteo nods. "Hide and wait."

He has been silent all trip, his face grimacing, almost in pain. Every now and then he jumps as though startled and looks around at everybody. Amid the memories of his recent trio, another voice echoes in his head, calling him back from the memories, Nakia 

'they need you Jex, now especially, and he demands your devotion, shuffle off this strange facade and embrace the god of death.'

Now, Matteo can feel Jex at the back of his mind again, whispering instructions and pushing for control.

Aiden watches Matteo's anxious twitches through the trip, perplexed. What could have happened to the assassin to make him so jumpy? The half-elf had nerves of steel -- or at least, he had pretended to. 

The cleric shakes his head. There were more important things to worry about, like the approaching army. "How do you plan to get to this wizard?" Aiden asks. "Any number of things could go wrong while sneaking through an army."

“Well, if Matteo is okay with it he could help get us in and be a lookout.” he looks at Matteo for affirmation as he says this. “And I can make Val and myself invisible, and Didymus is good at illusions. He could disguise himself as one of the soldiers and make a distraction if we do get caught.” Again as he offers this idea, he turns to Didymus in the hopes that the devil is down for this plan.

Didymus turns on the spot and disappears. Behind Thurston an enourmous gnoll grows up out of the shadows, looming over even the towering Norscan.

Thurston turns, surprised by the growling gnoll. He holds his hand though, but looks the disguised demon direct deep into the eye. 

"I got your stench fiend. " he says, surprisingly low for his normal volumen of voice. It is unclear if it is due to the proximity of the army of the hard time the Norscan is having dealing with Didymus. "Be sure to stay away from anyone who may have skills similar to mine. " 

He doesn't move away, forcing the imposing gnoll to move around him. When Didymus is crossing his side he adds, almost whispering. 

"Betray us. Harm the boy... and I'll send you to Muspel... "

At this point the tense exchanges between Thurston and Didymus no longer fill him with anxiety, and after a few minutes more talking of strategy the Acharnost decide to fall back for now, staying within earshot of the approaching army until the footfalls stop. Once dusk begins to fall and the sounds of Marcellus' forces halt, Sheercleft's advance party stops as well and finds a comfortable spot to wait for night. 

Vark excuses himself from the others, finding a large rock to sit behind and meditate. He places the crystalline form of Pathmaker across his lap and closes his eyes. It's just like before in the Ruby Vault when he channeled power from the towering crystals there, except now the energy seems to come from the runestone itself. Vark knows better than that though. This power belongs to Matthew. The crimson pulses of energy that flow into him from the weapon feel like searing fire, hell fire. His heartbeat whips into a feverish pace, and does not slow down over the course of the next two hours while he channels. At last when it feels that his body can take no more he opens his eyes and disconnects, standing shakily and catching his breath. It's dark now. It's time. 

The Acharnost conceal themselves in the pass to wait for the army to move by them, but there is meagre cover to be found on the mountainside. Jex is all but invisible beneath his elven cloak, but Aiden and Valaith can do little more than get close to the ground amongst the rocks. Didymus simply vanishes from sight, while Thurston seems to have somehow managed to find a hidden spot on the cliffside below the road. Even Vark behind his rock higher up the mountain overlooking the road is not quite as well hidden as he might have hoped, due to the crimson glow emanating from the warlock throughout his meditation.

Several minutes later, the Cambrian army draws near. First, come the cavalry with Sir Marcellus riding amongst them, then the infantry and the archers march on by. The catapults are drawn in the middle of the army, followed by what appear to be peasant levies, driven to war by the hungry gnolls gnashing at their heels as they march. As they pass Aiden and Valaith's hiding place, one of the gnolls sniffs the air, before turning to converse with one of his comrades, who does the same. Several of the hyena-like beastkin break ranks and begin searching for the source of the smell.

Thurston, hide behind a great rock, peaks as the cavalry comes and he finally gets the first glimpse of their enemy. Sir Marcellus. That mad man, driven by a zelaous believe in their corrupted masters. He could pose as a pius, rightful possessor of the high moral ground. But he was but another bully. Another pitiful men thinking higher of himself due to the little power he has managed to achieve, and as it happened with him, not by his own merit but thanks to others. He was but a puppet in the hands of the Maginobi. But all of that didn't make him less dangerous. 

The army at his disposal was a real threat to Sheercleft and its good people. The Norscan was no stranger to war and confrontations, but the idea of seeing Sheercleft people suffering again made him sick. If that bully were brave enough he will accept his challenge of a single combat... but he will not do that, hiding his cowardice behind a faked superiority. And... if he killed the bastard in single combat Val would be pissed... she wanted a piece of the fun too. 

Looking away from Sir Marcellus, as the army continues to advance, he looks towards the gnolls. The other great menance of a too large list to his taste. The vicious beasts didn't dissapointed him. Large, brute, ravish... once unleashed they will be a dangerous foe... little they knew that the stout folk of Sheercleft were waiting for them and their ravenous hunger will met their sharp weapons. Either case it will be a massacre. 

He looks to the two gnolls that breach formation to look for the smell of Valaith and Aiden. Thurston grabs Rikkazarik's and put it at his belt. 

"Not yet my friend " he whispers to the hammer that seems to crack a little bit of electricity when he leaves it at his belt "This two need to be disposed in silence... " 

Aiden grimaces at the gnolls turn toward he and Thurston. Damn animals and their sense of smell. I should have thought of that. Aiden looks up at the faint red glow. C'mon, Vark. Pull your nose out of the codex and notice them...

Taking matters into his own hands, Aiden quickly flares his power. The call of a raven sounds directly in Vark's right ear. Wake up!

Vark jumps as the sudden caw yanks him from his meditation. He scrambles to his feet and pokes his head out from behind the rock only to see a pack of gnolls bearing down on their position. This will quickly become a worst case scenario if they aren’t able to dispatch the beastkin quickly and quietly, and with Matteo abstaining from assassination it seems unlikely that the rest pf the thunderous Acharnost can do that.

Maybe if we can hold them magically, the others can take them out. He whispers to the wind, and the breeze carries the message to Aiden. Without waiting for a response Vark moves within range and extends his ruby veined hand. He mutters a low infernal incantation and spectral red chains momentarily appear around two of the gnolls and attempt to bind them.

The other members of the pack that has broken off from the rear of the gnoll force react with alarm when they see their comrades bound in Vark's infernal chains. Their surprise only grows when they realise that their shouts of warning are producing no sound at all. Besides Vark, the half-orc hears Didymus incanting words in infernal. The devil has one hand outstretched towards the group of gnolls from Vark's hiding place higher on the slopes.

Val rushes forward as the gnolls spot the group, Larkin flashing into existence alongside her as her breath forms a cold vapor while the icy rage of her homeland settles over her. Rook swings once, a spray of skull fragments and brain matter as a gnoll’s head explodes, she carries the momentum of the swing into a second blow as another of the creature’s skull crunches and collapses from the blow. No primal screams this time, just an icy silent death among them. 

As Matteo takes his hiding spot, he watches with horror as the gnolls approach. Not because he fears the beasts, but because of the decision that was now coming. He can feel the voice in the back of his head, more urgently now.

Let me out, let me protect my friends.

His own desire to see no harm done, conflicting with his oath to no longer me the bringer of death. Nakias words before he left, demanding his servitude to the dark god Jex had served.

He grits his teeth and grips his staff tight, standing up he springs across the rough terrain as light and silently as a feather, using the final step to spring up and crash the staff into the back of one of the beasts head. Matteo rolls aside, his cloak blending with the rocks as the gnoll slumps to the ground