Rigor’s gaze falls upon the black longbow that was dropped by a Fist of Bane, from when he fell during the fight where Belmort now stands. He picks it up and assesses it intensely and straps it across his body, then withdraws 20 ft north, and stops just south of Fimrold.
OOC: Thanks to the DM for the PMs on my question about all of the equipment still lying around.
The Night Blade that barely mastered himself enough to surrender the halfling to Casta keeps his curved dagger upraised, never taking his strange red-tinged eyes from the company as he backs toward the southern wall of the great sewer tunnel, half-dragging the other unconscious cultist of Bhaal. He swiftly sheathes his wicked blade, then kneels to take up Yokai's dagger, lying upon the wet flagstones in his empty hand. Testing its weight, and then mimicking the carving of his own face with its blade against the side of the black shroud that masks him, he hauls his burden into the shadows to the west...
The injured, bleeding Necromite torchbearer takes some few steps into the tunnel, painfully reaches down to grasp the fallen Fist of Bane's mace in his empty hand, then shoving it into the belt that secures his tattered raiment, staggers back into the gloom from whence he came.
"Until we meet again, the Gate will fall to darkness and despair; no mortal flesh can save it...or you..."
The massive, scarred Fist of Bane guarding the entrance to the great sewer tunnel grinds his teeth in a maniacal rictus grin to quell his bloodlust. Disciplining himself he violently shoves his black mace into the iron ring at his belt, then strides forward and snatches the mace left behind by another Banite cultist, the one who threw down the weapon to withdraw with the body of Feldinor...the same one now instead with a dark longbow drawn taut and straining to fire into the adventurers' midst. The scarred warrior again falls back to the threshold of the southern tunnel, prepared to violently cover the cultists' withdrawal...
OOC: Good Evening, adventurers! This series of actions among the cultists does skip over Yokai's actions, which are unobserved and dealt with separately, but otherwise enables initiative to pass to Sorore, followed immediately by Casta and then Belmort!
OOC: An updated tactical graphic will immediately follow this, given the movement of Fimrold, Rigor, and Belmort (from his readied action), as well as the enemy. Some of the cultists' focus was on the recovery of some of the weapons that Rigor had previously recognized, all of which I've therefore included, as a result, in this next update.
To those around her, Casta intones quietly. "Retrieve what you can, but don't risk your lives. Bows do cost most."
Then she raises her voice, casting it down the darkened corridor to the far torchlight.
"No. The gate will not despair so long as the vigilant Helm stands watch. Your gods revel in murder and death but they care not whose. They will betray you without thought. When my sword carves your husk, the dead three will cackle and deride you. Your ruin will be your last worship."
Casta continues to carry the now awake Feldinor, not entirely trusting the halfling to resist the gamble presented. She ... she does not share Tymora's views. She slides behind Sorore, giving her less than a nod and immediately lets out a breath of pain. She allows her carriage to reveal her burden and brokenness. Her otherworldly beauty is deeply marred by the grimace of suffering. Failure . a wound much deeper than foul mace can drive it. The air reeks of cooking cabbage.
She stumbles out of the tunnel and into the light beyond the iron gate, leaning heavily on the south wall. She drops bloodied but hale Feldinor between surprised Baldarians where his feet can find purchase.
She glares at the curious folk around her and bites off one curt word. "MOVE!"
-------------------------
Mechanics: Assuming an awake Feldinor now transitions from object to grappled character, Casta's move is halved. Move and Dash straight west (out of the way!) 5 squares and out of the tunnel. End move in open space and drop Feldinor into adjacent open space NW.
OOC: Good Evening, Adventurers...and Happy Birthday, Marines!
OOC: Yokai's concurrent move has been moving well, and Casta's description above covered it better than I could possibly elaborate. I'll simply provide an updated tactical map following this message, given the number of additional movements, and note that initiative...passes to Feldinor!
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"What in the bloody hell happened?! We were winning! I distinctly remembered stabbing that bastard straight in the belly." We will leave out the part where the black fracking claw came out of no where. "Please tell me Casta that you at least picked up my things before dropping me out here on the street...weapon-naked?"
Where...where would I go if I was down there. Exits? .... Destinations? ... Hideouts?
OOC: Game mechanics...I want to use the Search action to "search my mind" based upon my background and familiarity with the less than savory class of the city. then pending the outcome, I will relay that information to Casta and Move 25' in that direction while pulling a dagger as a free interact with object.
"And this is why you always carry back-up daggers." Feldinor will wink at Casta as he moves off in the direction of his investigation check. OOC: Which if the check fails, will be south 25'
Feldinor reflects upon his general knowledge of the sewers and aqueducts beneath Baldur's Gate, which are active and extensive, given the heavy rainfall the city receives, as well as the great crescent upon which the Lower City is built, with all flows draining eventually to the harbor, and thence the river, and thence the sea. Most pipes and channels are small enough to be a tight squeeze for a cat, while others are big enough for a human, some with narrow walkways on one or both sides. Tunnel ceilings are arched and about six feet high. Locked iron gates are meant to bar residents from entering the sewers, but citizens haven't normally feared the sewers as a source of danger in the past, so the locks of these barriers are often rusted into uselessness, and the gates are sometimes lashed open to prevent them from rusting shut.
In all this general knowledge of the vast sewer system of Baldur's Gate, even with Feldinor's background, no revelations emerge regarding exits, which exist multitudes throughout the city, or destinations that would draw the attention of the Cultists of the Dark Three now terrorizing its populace in the midst of the refugee crisis and suffering that have besieged it...
Feldinor draws no revelations on the cultists' destination in the sewers beneath the city, for the moment. As the rogue draws a dagger and begins threading his way south through the growing numbers of concerned travelers peering into the shadowed alley, some now alarmed at the sight of the bared steel in the halfing's hand, the wounded Fist of Bane in the wet tunnels below secures his hold on the fallen blood and filth-smeared Banite. Throwing him heavily over an armored shoulder in a gauntleted iron grasp, longbow held with a nocked arrow in the other, the warrior-cultist trudges west into the gloom of the yawning sewer, after the Necromite and Night Blade before him, with one final hate-filled glance at the remaining adventurers holding their ground in the narrow tunnel.
OOC: Good Afternoon, Adventurers. Back to the game after a major deliverable to the Joint Chiefs of Staff J2F and J28, if those Intelligence staffs have particular meaning to some among us. Major assessments ongoing within the Department, some refreshingly threat-based, rather than political.
OOC: I'll note that initiative, at this juncture, passes to Murdoch, Fimrold, and Rigor in immediate sequence, but will make one additional observation - while you've yet to see the cultists break initiative, clearly suspecting your treachery, none of A Cuspide Corona is required to similarly remain in initiative, if there are other non-combat actions you are considering, which will also serve to speed the initiative cycle and bring it to its conclusion, leading to the tale's continuance! Not encouraging it, necessarily, but worthy of mention!
OOC: Last, a new tactical map will accompany this entry in moments, restoring the broader view and reflecting the movements of Yokai, Feldinor, the cultists, and the throngs of commoners and others upon the streets (who have also been moving in your initiative, if some have not previously noted)!
Rigor logically considers the actions of the enemy, and their advance to recover weapons. Knowing that Belmort has his back, Rigor eases around him and secures the black longbow across his own shoulders. In a calculated risk that doesn’t violate the warning, he holds out empty hands and makes his way to Feldinor’s discarded weapons. Rigor crouches and quickly seizes them both, never taking his eyes off the enemy.
ooc: Thought I would go ahead and describe my move instead of waiting on Fimrold - it shouldn’t conflict. Mechanics are 20’ movement to the south, then with two free hands pick up both collocates weapons at once, one in each hand.
Fimrold exits the tunnel, relishing in the open sky above him. He takes a deep breath of the alley-air and decides the city stink is far preferable to the dank hallway he had briefly endured in the sewers. He flashes a half-hearted smile to Casta before moving towards the street to gather with Feldinor and Yokai.
Mechanics: Move and dash to end turn 5ft NE of Feldinor, squeezing through the crowd on the way.
“Cry for all those who will die for the Dark Three, while the Fist “saves” us from the “threat” beyond, eh, heh, heh…” The torch-bearing cultist of Myrkul ends with a rasping laugh, his voice in obvious pain, as the light of his guttering flame falls back to the west.
The last of them, the hulking cultist of Bane remaining astride the southern opening, finally masters the bloodlust twisting his scarred features and moves backwards in a fighting crouch across the wider tunnel, until he steps over the scattered weaponry of A Cuspide Corona that never found its intended target, striking the far wall. Sliding the dark mace into his belt, his gauntleted hand seizes one weapon among them…Casta’s errant spear…as he finally stands. He thrusts it in mockery as a warning to the last few adventurers opposing him at a distance up the narrow sewer pipe, his urge for violence still overwhelming any vile words he might offer. His head still turned with eyes fixated upon the company, the last Fist of Bane stalks into the western shadows following the Necromite, the sewer tunnel returning to darkness in their wake…
OOC: Good Evening, adventurers! The cultists' actions again run concurrently with Yokai's, now observed by his companions but geographically distant. Initiative therefore picks up with Yokai, Sorore, Casta, and Belmort, and it would appear soon...at last...the prospect of return to the mission at-hand beyond this inconclusive, yet near-deadly, skirmish with the enemy! A tactical map update will follow shortly.
OOC: I think I can come out of initiative at this point, with the cultists' actual departure. I'll go ahead, as I'm sure that I won't conflict with Yokai does for his move. Looking forward to getting back to the narrative!
Sorore quickly lashes her shortbow to her backpack, beneath her Ilmatari greatcloak. She moves with purpose towards the light, drawing her gray hood down to almost completely shadow her startling features and eyes. The unusual cleric of Ilmater then steps through the sewer tunnel into the cool air of the shadowy alley, understanding Fimrold's sentiment completely!
Putting her hand briefly in passing on Casta's shoulder in encouragement, Sorore weaves her way around the corner to the north, and heads to the spot where she saw Belmort throw down his battle axe before dropping into the sewers from above.
"He's probably going to need this," she says, when finally reaching the weapon and picking it up, concealing it as well within her cloak. Sorore then returns to stand to the north of Casta, with the open sewer gate between them, ready for her friends to assemble.
OOC: If it's still there - it wasn't that long down under!
OOC: Good call, Sorore; the battle axe was indeed still there! Also, quite right on no issues with Yokai's move, as he sent me a couple of very descriptive PMs to lay out what he'll be doing, also out of initiative, separate from the company. I'll detail that with this entry...
At a distance to the south, amidst the heavy passage of foot traffic on the fog-slick, sloping cobblestones of the wide street, Yokai becomes partially visible to the first of the other adventurers emerging from the rusting iron gate into the alley. The warlock appears effectively blended within the throng of travelers, many of whom have gone from indifference to avoidance with the end of the faint sounds of conflict, which had initially incited some seconds of near-panic. Still, the streets are on-edge, and the gloom and lingering mist of the shadowed alley is not enough to swallow the pervasive tension.
Yokai’s purpose soon becomes clear, with his approach to and focus upon the thick sewer grate embedded in the stones. The half-elf watches intently, then apparently perceives something in the depths below. Swiftly straightening and turning towards Feldinor, the warlock signs to him using two fingers pointing down in a thrusting motion over the grate he stands astride, then two fingers thrusting to the west. Without another sign or hesitation, Yokai then turns and rushes off to the west himself, soon lost to sight within the late-morning fog and tense masses of a city besieged by dangers without…and within.
OOC: Hail and well-met, adventurers! I hope this finds all of you healthy and staying safe. My own family's plans for Thanksgiving are even today being reconsidered amidst the latest nation-wide coronavirus surge and warnings, so it's certainly been on my mind of late. On the adventure, I'd note that the only likely matters of initiative I see remaining concern Belmort, Murdoch, and Rigor within the tunnel, and whether or not they intend to violate the warnings of the Dead Three Cultists to attempt retrieving the remaining weaponry to the south.
OOC: Beyond that, it would perhaps be time to assemble and focus upon your present circumstances and next steps, and to assess how near you are to leveling, if you remember how the adventure started you as a company! If not there, it's very close. Look forward to your initiative decisions and thoughts!
Casta smiles with the left side of her face, residual pain clear in the wincing left eye as she receives the silent encouragement from Sorore. Suffering enough to baptize us all.
After the uncommon cleric passes, Casta remains on watch outside the grate. She is poised to close the door as soon Belmort, Murdoch and Rigor pass out of the sewer, or re-enter if the situation changes. She listens intently and counts off the seconds. The bright light emanating from the Gauntlet Pendant at her neck softens and dims as she thanks Helm for his presence, even in passing.
At this first moment of pause in the nearly lethal encounter, the inner monologue begins ... the third battle of the day.
"You fool. You could have gotten them all killed, rushing in headlong. Unthinking. Have you learned nothing? And that cute light trick! What were you thinking praying for Helm's blessings and needlessly antagonizing the brutes? You can see in the dark, LAPSU! You should have been killed yourself by rights, acting like that. We were standing down and you felt the need to throw HELM and his gifts at the pitiful dogs. Light of Glory right in the pig's eye!! It's a wonder they didn't tear our your heart and eat it right in the muck."
"SILENCE! I bind thee, doubt-fiend! I shall grapple with thee in due course. Be still and be banished from my heart. I shall notbrook your curses while lives yet stand at the Fugue's door."
To help keep the doubt-fiend at bay, Casta counts the passing seconds out loud. She silently drills an encouragement from her catechism. Exsúrgat Helmes et dissipéntur inimíci ejus: et fúgiant qui odérunt eum a fácie ejus.
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Rigor’s gaze falls upon the black longbow that was dropped by a Fist of Bane, from when he fell during the fight where Belmort now stands. He picks it up and assesses it intensely and straps it across his body, then withdraws 20 ft north, and stops just south of Fimrold.
OOC: Thanks to the DM for the PMs on my question about all of the equipment still lying around.
The Night Blade that barely mastered himself enough to surrender the halfling to Casta keeps his curved dagger upraised, never taking his strange red-tinged eyes from the company as he backs toward the southern wall of the great sewer tunnel, half-dragging the other unconscious cultist of Bhaal. He swiftly sheathes his wicked blade, then kneels to take up Yokai's dagger, lying upon the wet flagstones in his empty hand. Testing its weight, and then mimicking the carving of his own face with its blade against the side of the black shroud that masks him, he hauls his burden into the shadows to the west...
The injured, bleeding Necromite torchbearer takes some few steps into the tunnel, painfully reaches down to grasp the fallen Fist of Bane's mace in his empty hand, then shoving it into the belt that secures his tattered raiment, staggers back into the gloom from whence he came.
"Until we meet again, the Gate will fall to darkness and despair; no mortal flesh can save it...or you..."
The massive, scarred Fist of Bane guarding the entrance to the great sewer tunnel grinds his teeth in a maniacal rictus grin to quell his bloodlust. Disciplining himself he violently shoves his black mace into the iron ring at his belt, then strides forward and snatches the mace left behind by another Banite cultist, the one who threw down the weapon to withdraw with the body of Feldinor...the same one now instead with a dark longbow drawn taut and straining to fire into the adventurers' midst. The scarred warrior again falls back to the threshold of the southern tunnel, prepared to violently cover the cultists' withdrawal...
OOC: Good Evening, adventurers! This series of actions among the cultists does skip over Yokai's actions, which are unobserved and dealt with separately, but otherwise enables initiative to pass to Sorore, followed immediately by Casta and then Belmort!
OOC: An updated tactical graphic will immediately follow this, given the movement of Fimrold, Rigor, and Belmort (from his readied action), as well as the enemy. Some of the cultists' focus was on the recovery of some of the weapons that Rigor had previously recognized, all of which I've therefore included, as a result, in this next update.
Sorore casts Cure Wounds on Feldinor as Casta approaches holding him...
9
She then steps five feet to the west, giving him a place to stand as he revives.
"That is my last of Ilmater's blessings of healing, for now. None of us should further risk our lives cheaply."
OOC: Ok, Feldinor, risking you doing something silly...:)
To those around her, Casta intones quietly. "Retrieve what you can, but don't risk your lives. Bows do cost most."
Then she raises her voice, casting it down the darkened corridor to the far torchlight.
"No. The gate will not despair so long as the vigilant Helm stands watch. Your gods revel in murder and death but they care not whose. They will betray you without thought. When my sword carves your husk, the dead three will cackle and deride you. Your ruin will be your last worship."
Casta continues to carry the now awake Feldinor, not entirely trusting the halfling to resist the gamble presented. She ... she does not share Tymora's views. She slides behind Sorore, giving her less than a nod and immediately lets out a breath of pain. She allows her carriage to reveal her burden and brokenness. Her otherworldly beauty is deeply marred by the grimace of suffering. Failure . a wound much deeper than foul mace can drive it. The air reeks of cooking cabbage.
She stumbles out of the tunnel and into the light beyond the iron gate, leaning heavily on the south wall. She drops bloodied but hale Feldinor between surprised Baldarians where his feet can find purchase.
She glares at the curious folk around her and bites off one curt word. "MOVE!"
-------------------------
Mechanics: Assuming an awake Feldinor now transitions from object to grappled character, Casta's move is halved. Move and Dash straight west (out of the way!) 5 squares and out of the tunnel. End move in open space and drop Feldinor into adjacent open space NW.
Belmort remains at the ready to move in a tactical retreat with the others in the group.
OOC: Good Evening, Adventurers...and Happy Birthday, Marines!
OOC: Yokai's concurrent move has been moving well, and Casta's description above covered it better than I could possibly elaborate. I'll simply provide an updated tactical map following this message, given the number of additional movements, and note that initiative...passes to Feldinor!
"What in the bloody hell happened?! We were winning! I distinctly remembered stabbing that bastard straight in the belly." We will leave out the part where the black fracking claw came out of no where. "Please tell me Casta that you at least picked up my things before dropping me out here on the street...weapon-naked?"
Where...where would I go if I was down there. Exits? .... Destinations? ... Hideouts?
Investigation: 8
OOC: Game mechanics...I want to use the Search action to "search my mind" based upon my background and familiarity with the less than savory class of the city. then pending the outcome, I will relay that information to Casta and Move 25' in that direction while pulling a dagger as a free interact with object.
"And this is why you always carry back-up daggers." Feldinor will wink at Casta as he moves off in the direction of his investigation check. OOC: Which if the check fails, will be south 25'
Feldinor reflects upon his general knowledge of the sewers and aqueducts beneath Baldur's Gate, which are active and extensive, given the heavy rainfall the city receives, as well as the great crescent upon which the Lower City is built, with all flows draining eventually to the harbor, and thence the river, and thence the sea. Most pipes and channels are small enough to be a tight squeeze for a cat, while others are big enough for a human, some with narrow walkways on one or both sides. Tunnel ceilings are arched and about six feet high. Locked iron gates are meant to bar residents from entering the sewers, but citizens haven't normally feared the sewers as a source of danger in the past, so the locks of these barriers are often rusted into uselessness, and the gates are sometimes lashed open to prevent them from rusting shut.
In all this general knowledge of the vast sewer system of Baldur's Gate, even with Feldinor's background, no revelations emerge regarding exits, which exist multitudes throughout the city, or destinations that would draw the attention of the Cultists of the Dark Three now terrorizing its populace in the midst of the refugee crisis and suffering that have besieged it...
Feldinor draws no revelations on the cultists' destination in the sewers beneath the city, for the moment. As the rogue draws a dagger and begins threading his way south through the growing numbers of concerned travelers peering into the shadowed alley, some now alarmed at the sight of the bared steel in the halfing's hand, the wounded Fist of Bane in the wet tunnels below secures his hold on the fallen blood and filth-smeared Banite. Throwing him heavily over an armored shoulder in a gauntleted iron grasp, longbow held with a nocked arrow in the other, the warrior-cultist trudges west into the gloom of the yawning sewer, after the Necromite and Night Blade before him, with one final hate-filled glance at the remaining adventurers holding their ground in the narrow tunnel.
OOC: Good Afternoon, Adventurers. Back to the game after a major deliverable to the Joint Chiefs of Staff J2F and J28, if those Intelligence staffs have particular meaning to some among us. Major assessments ongoing within the Department, some refreshingly threat-based, rather than political.
OOC: I'll note that initiative, at this juncture, passes to Murdoch, Fimrold, and Rigor in immediate sequence, but will make one additional observation - while you've yet to see the cultists break initiative, clearly suspecting your treachery, none of A Cuspide Corona is required to similarly remain in initiative, if there are other non-combat actions you are considering, which will also serve to speed the initiative cycle and bring it to its conclusion, leading to the tale's continuance! Not encouraging it, necessarily, but worthy of mention!
OOC: Last, a new tactical map will accompany this entry in moments, restoring the broader view and reflecting the movements of Yokai, Feldinor, the cultists, and the throngs of commoners and others upon the streets (who have also been moving in your initiative, if some have not previously noted)!
Murdoch let's out a sigh of relief, one that he feels like he's been holding for months...
Mechanically, anomalous breathing patterns aside, he's still ready to shoot if the need should arise.
Rigor logically considers the actions of the enemy, and their advance to recover weapons. Knowing that Belmort has his back, Rigor eases around him and secures the black longbow across his own shoulders. In a calculated risk that doesn’t violate the warning, he holds out empty hands and makes his way to Feldinor’s discarded weapons. Rigor crouches and quickly seizes them both, never taking his eyes off the enemy.
ooc: Thought I would go ahead and describe my move instead of waiting on Fimrold - it shouldn’t conflict. Mechanics are 20’ movement to the south, then with two free hands pick up both collocates weapons at once, one in each hand.
Fimrold exits the tunnel, relishing in the open sky above him. He takes a deep breath of the alley-air and decides the city stink is far preferable to the dank hallway he had briefly endured in the sewers. He flashes a half-hearted smile to Casta before moving towards the street to gather with Feldinor and Yokai.
Mechanics: Move and dash to end turn 5ft NE of Feldinor, squeezing through the crowd on the way.
“Cry for all those who will die for the Dark Three, while the Fist “saves” us from the “threat” beyond, eh, heh, heh…” The torch-bearing cultist of Myrkul ends with a rasping laugh, his voice in obvious pain, as the light of his guttering flame falls back to the west.
The last of them, the hulking cultist of Bane remaining astride the southern opening, finally masters the bloodlust twisting his scarred features and moves backwards in a fighting crouch across the wider tunnel, until he steps over the scattered weaponry of A Cuspide Corona that never found its intended target, striking the far wall. Sliding the dark mace into his belt, his gauntleted hand seizes one weapon among them…Casta’s errant spear…as he finally stands. He thrusts it in mockery as a warning to the last few adventurers opposing him at a distance up the narrow sewer pipe, his urge for violence still overwhelming any vile words he might offer. His head still turned with eyes fixated upon the company, the last Fist of Bane stalks into the western shadows following the Necromite, the sewer tunnel returning to darkness in their wake…
OOC: Good Evening, adventurers! The cultists' actions again run concurrently with Yokai's, now observed by his companions but geographically distant. Initiative therefore picks up with Yokai, Sorore, Casta, and Belmort, and it would appear soon...at last...the prospect of return to the mission at-hand beyond this inconclusive, yet near-deadly, skirmish with the enemy! A tactical map update will follow shortly.
OOC: I think I can come out of initiative at this point, with the cultists' actual departure. I'll go ahead, as I'm sure that I won't conflict with Yokai does for his move. Looking forward to getting back to the narrative!
Sorore quickly lashes her shortbow to her backpack, beneath her Ilmatari greatcloak. She moves with purpose towards the light, drawing her gray hood down to almost completely shadow her startling features and eyes. The unusual cleric of Ilmater then steps through the sewer tunnel into the cool air of the shadowy alley, understanding Fimrold's sentiment completely!
Putting her hand briefly in passing on Casta's shoulder in encouragement, Sorore weaves her way around the corner to the north, and heads to the spot where she saw Belmort throw down his battle axe before dropping into the sewers from above.
"He's probably going to need this," she says, when finally reaching the weapon and picking it up, concealing it as well within her cloak. Sorore then returns to stand to the north of Casta, with the open sewer gate between them, ready for her friends to assemble.
OOC: If it's still there - it wasn't that long down under!
OOC: Good call, Sorore; the battle axe was indeed still there! Also, quite right on no issues with Yokai's move, as he sent me a couple of very descriptive PMs to lay out what he'll be doing, also out of initiative, separate from the company. I'll detail that with this entry...
At a distance to the south, amidst the heavy passage of foot traffic on the fog-slick, sloping cobblestones of the wide street, Yokai becomes partially visible to the first of the other adventurers emerging from the rusting iron gate into the alley. The warlock appears effectively blended within the throng of travelers, many of whom have gone from indifference to avoidance with the end of the faint sounds of conflict, which had initially incited some seconds of near-panic. Still, the streets are on-edge, and the gloom and lingering mist of the shadowed alley is not enough to swallow the pervasive tension.
Yokai’s purpose soon becomes clear, with his approach to and focus upon the thick sewer grate embedded in the stones. The half-elf watches intently, then apparently perceives something in the depths below. Swiftly straightening and turning towards Feldinor, the warlock signs to him using two fingers pointing down in a thrusting motion over the grate he stands astride, then two fingers thrusting to the west. Without another sign or hesitation, Yokai then turns and rushes off to the west himself, soon lost to sight within the late-morning fog and tense masses of a city besieged by dangers without…and within.
OOC: Hail and well-met, adventurers! I hope this finds all of you healthy and staying safe. My own family's plans for Thanksgiving are even today being reconsidered amidst the latest nation-wide coronavirus surge and warnings, so it's certainly been on my mind of late. On the adventure, I'd note that the only likely matters of initiative I see remaining concern Belmort, Murdoch, and Rigor within the tunnel, and whether or not they intend to violate the warnings of the Dead Three Cultists to attempt retrieving the remaining weaponry to the south.
OOC: Beyond that, it would perhaps be time to assemble and focus upon your present circumstances and next steps, and to assess how near you are to leveling, if you remember how the adventure started you as a company! If not there, it's very close. Look forward to your initiative decisions and thoughts!
Casta smiles with the left side of her face, residual pain clear in the wincing left eye as she receives the silent encouragement from Sorore. Suffering enough to baptize us all.
After the uncommon cleric passes, Casta remains on watch outside the grate. She is poised to close the door as soon Belmort, Murdoch and Rigor pass out of the sewer, or re-enter if the situation changes. She listens intently and counts off the seconds. The bright light emanating from the Gauntlet Pendant at her neck softens and dims as she thanks Helm for his presence, even in passing.
At this first moment of pause in the nearly lethal encounter, the inner monologue begins ... the third battle of the day.
"You fool. You could have gotten them all killed, rushing in headlong. Unthinking. Have you learned nothing? And that cute light trick! What were you thinking praying for Helm's blessings and needlessly antagonizing the brutes? You can see in the dark, LAPSU! You should have been killed yourself by rights, acting like that. We were standing down and you felt the need to throw HELM and his gifts at the pitiful dogs. Light of Glory right in the pig's eye!! It's a wonder they didn't tear our your heart and eat it right in the muck."
"SILENCE! I bind thee, doubt-fiend! I shall grapple with thee in due course. Be still and be banished from my heart. I shall not brook your curses while lives yet stand at the Fugue's door."
To help keep the doubt-fiend at bay, Casta counts the passing seconds out loud. She silently drills an encouragement from her catechism. Exsúrgat Helmes et dissipéntur inimíci ejus: et fúgiant qui odérunt eum a fácie ejus.