Scattered gods

(Ooc: oh man, geometry playing tricks on me. I thought I got the volume right)

After unsuccessfully trying to close the flap over the egg, Fingolin sighs: "Well, this is not shaping up the way I imagined it. Sorry, Tenezzaz, your task just got more difficult. If you're burdened, the second group can carry your backpack. Wait until Kolyyt circles away from us, then go."

"Is anyone fast and stealthy enough to create a distraction somewhere else, so Tennezaz may cross with the egg? I would, but frankly I seem the worst person for the task." Fouder looks up at his more deftly-built companions, then back to his own stocky, short build and clanking armour. 

Arell quickly wriggles out of his shirt and offers it to Fingolin. "Here, would this fit over the top of it? At least the egg would not be visible as clearly from above."

He then moves over to Tennezaz, laying a hand on the man's shoulder. "If you want it, I can ask that you be protected for a while, long enough to make the crossing. I do not know how close we can be as you make your way across, but I can offer that, at least. I can otherwise create a distraction elsewhere, but I cannot say how effective it would be, and while I am fast, I doubt I will be able to outrun that." He says, jerking a thumb towards the sky.

Mechanics:

"Yes," Fouder agrees. "Arell makes a good point. Go forth and go well." He looks to Tennezaz, casting Guidance as he says the final sentence and lays a hand on the tiefling's arm.

"Cleric", Solomon says, addressing Fouder, "perhaps we should return to the bodies of Kolyyt's soldiers, and deliver rites to the bodies?  We can use the rubble to bury them.  We need not be discreet about the work, and surely that will attract our flying friend?  Our companions can make good their escape with the egg, and we can meet with the other's at Arell's shop.  If Kolyyt lingers in this area, we may need to do something to draw him further afield."

"Do you think we will be able to perform the burials quickly enough that we won't cause trouble for ourselves?" Fouder asks. "I don't think we'll be able to take on too many troops ourselves." He strokes at his beard as he thinks. "Okay, let's get to it. We need to give the others as good a chance to escape with the egg as we can." He turns, and starts back towards the discarded bodies of the soldiers.

"I do not intend that we take on any troops, although your vigor is admirable", Solomon says with a rare smile.  "I intend to lure Kolyyt, and no more.  If we do see any troops, we will stay well away."

He turns to the rest of the group.  "If any wish to voice their opposition to my plan, now is the time, what little of it we have."

"Your plan makes sense, Solomon. They should not see you as threats that way, and it might be enough to distract Kotyyl. Be safe, friends." Fingolin turns towards Tenezzaz to see how he fares in his task, ready to jump to his aid if needed.

*Guidance to my ealier stealth roll of of 19 unless you want me to toll again. Guidance: 2)

"If you want to cast the spell then do so but if it would be wiser to save it for a more important time then do not waste it." Tennezaz says as he nods and hands them his pack but does not offer up any of his weapons.

"To save a friend and protect this egg? I may only hope there will not be a moment of more pressing need than this." Arell says with a smile, although he has to fix the smile in place as he lays a hand on Tennezaz's forehead, between the two horns, to complete the protective incantation. He cannot help the small moment of prejudice, but he hopes he hid it well and caused no offense.

"Go, we will be as close as we can be." he finishes, moving into a position where he can watch the Tiefling make the crossing.

Mechanics:

Fouder and Solomon Scurry from corner to corner and alley to alley their way back to the part of town where the soldiers were thunderstruck.  Their heads beaded with sweat and anxiety.  As the begin to sort out the bodies and rubble to perform their ritual.  A shadow eclipses them for a moment.  They look up quickly but whatever it was is already gone.  Taking a moment to listen when all of a sudden Digrrursh!  A man lands on the ground behind them as dirt kicks up into the air.  Glowing radiantly with a silver aura, hammer in hand.  Kolyyt stands before them... not the 15 foot tall hulking celestial from before.  A new form, barely creating 6 feet tall.  A soft face with angelic features.  ”Salutations, What are you doing with my men here?”

Tennanaz Braces for what’s at stake as he begins to sneak out, darting through the first 50 feet.  Halfway through a crash is heard ringing out, sending Ten jumping and the group to hit the deck.  Turns out it was just a cat in a garbage can.  He makes it across to the next part of cover with no trouble.  No soldiers in sight.  The party moves behind him in unison while in the shadows.  The group eventually finds itself in Arell’s old shop.  Display cases busted as glass crunches under your feet.  A small picture frame under some rocks.  Grass has started growing through the cracks in the stones of the floor.  Stairways the lead upstairs and down into a basement.

"Salutations. We are affording them a proper burial," Fouder returns, trying to meet the deva's eyes but feeling intimidated by his glow. "We heard a scuffle outside, and when we came out they had just been left here." He shakes his head. "Poor chaps. At least they died with honour, fighting for their cause. Sadly, some of them have lost their pins..."

Arell's heart breaks as he steps inside his old shop, hearing the familiar creak of the first two floorboards should have lifted his spirits, but seeing the destruction of the rest of his workspace simply crushes him. Fighting back tears, he slowly makes his way over to the picture frame and pulls it out from underneath the rocks. Another devastating blow. The picture of his parents is not even recognizable. The entirety of their upper bodies was simply missing, the layer with paint torn off by either the rocks or the glass, and the rest of it crumpled and cracked.
His shoulders slump as he lets the frame slip out his fingers, giving a small start at the loud crack as it falls to the floor.

"Here, perhaps they did not get to this," he says, his voice broken and defeated as he continues his path towards the counter. He crouches down behind it, and the group hears him curse under his breath. What follows is the sound of shifting wood, another curse, louder this time, and the crack of wood breaking. Arell reappears, his hand bloody with a nasty scrape, but his fingers clutching a few gems and a single pearl carefully held between his finger and thumb. "Most of it is gone, but these were still there. I remember being surprised how deep they had made this compartment when I first bought this place."

He shows a sad smile, and from the furtive glances cast at the stairways it is clear he is torn between wanting to see the rest of his old place and fearing what he might find.

Arell finds the pearl, a diamond worth 100 gold, and a handful of smaller emeralds and rubies that total another 100 gold.

Looking over Arell's findings, Fingolin says: "All that looks useful, a good find." Seeing Arell casting glances at the stairway, "Go on. It might hurt, but it might also be liberating. Remember, you already left this life behind."

Fingolin goes to check the next open area for threats.

Having judged the angle of the sun overhead, Solomon had laid his sword and shield on the ground at an angle that would direct the sunlight reflected off them straight up.  Whether that made any difference in attracting the celestial, he didn't know for sure.  He drops the rock he was carrying by the feet of one of the bodies, and turns to face the celestial, deliberately unarmed.

Silent as Fouder talks, he involuntarily grimaces as the cleric, of all people, tries to lie to a celestial being, and attempts to make it look like the sun is in his eyes instead.  "You are the one they call Kolyyt?", he calls out.  "We have heard of your efforts to bring a measure of peace to the south of Waterdeep, such actions are commendable.  It is a shame though that the centre of this once-proud city does not enjoy such luxuries."  He gestures to the bodies, and to the general direction of the earlier battle.  "My friend here is a cleric, for what it is worth these days, and we intended to bury your men with the appropriate rites.  There are enough hardships to face without the dead rising as well."

Kolyyt walks around and surveys the battlefield.  “Whoever it was, they fought against an enemy with their back to the wall, that kind of feeling makes people desperate.  I’ve learned desperation can cause great deeds... whether they’re good or bad is up to... “ he pauses for a moment before turning back to Fouder and Solomon.  I appreciate your words and the sentiment, days like these, people often forget what it’s like to be civil.  Respect, honor, duty... just like the old days.  I’d be reminded if I did t offer you to come join me.  I feel like you’d fit right in.  There are some benefits... Kolyyt turns around once more.  The angelic physique exposed as he wears a short kilt and nothing else, raises his arms.  His hands glow with radiant light, his eyes open like burning white torches.  As he casts raise dead you watch as each mans wounds are closed and their chests gasp open with air.  They are brought back to life, teetering in the edge of consciousness.  One of the spearmen lifts his head barely and turns to Fouder.  “You...” before passing back out.

Kolyyt turns back to you as his eyes fade to normal, still shining though faintly in the iris’s.  His arms open, a small smile creating in his face.  “You didn’t happen to see what happened hear, I must admit I’m on a bit of a ....wild goose chase it seems.”

Fingolin goes to check the alley in between the fallen tower and the shop, it doesn’t seem to be anyone out right now.  He feels relieved that he doesn’t have to get out from under cover again before going underground.

Fouder's blood runs cold as the soldiers reanimate, and he panics. Necromancy sets him on edge. It is not something anyone just dabbles in. It is an entire school of magic in itself, and it has always made him feel grossly uneasy.

He sighs, the discomfort too much. He needs to be honest. "I do not have it in me to deceive," he says. "I am - was - a man of the Maker. It is always more wise to be honest." He rubs at the back of his neck as he thinks through what to say. "I'm sorry to say that this was us. Your men had us backed into a corner, and we panicked. I did not expect that this would happen. Magic is not what it used to be, these days, and it was more powerful than I intended. Perhaps that did indeed stem from our desperation, as you say." 

He looks to Solomon, then to the Deva. "We felt sorrow about what had happened, which is why we are here to give them a proper burial. Everyone deserves that. So many people have not been afforded that right, with the Sundering."

"But we are not here to fight, and we do not wish to cause further trouble. We are just passing through this town in an attempt to survive."