Journey Day 20/3 The Heart

Jyslin rolls K: Nature (1d20+16) and gets 34 (18) Jyslin rolls Survival (1d20+19) and gets 21 (2) Jyslin rolls Perception (1d20+24) and gets 30 (6) Jyslin raises a hand, calling a halt to the progress of the party as they skirt around yet another roving band. The forest has gone dark, and without their innate gifts and shared magics the party would likely be blind. As it is, however, those who have been relying on infravision and scent find themselves cut off: ahead, cool and wet air completely obscures all that lies beyond.

The cloud of moisture would likely be heavy fog, even an obscuring mist with daylight filtering through it. It would be glistening white.

Glistening white air hovering within a bog forest.

That likely explains the long-held name of this piece of jungle.

Neosodos' mindvoice reaches the group without the crooning of his tiny physical voice. << Andie says that we should prepare now. The mist bank here is tied to the Heart; as soon as we pass into it, the coven will know where we are quite precisely. She has also recommended, Jyslin, that you call upon the spell you used against the werehyenas back home, immediately once we break through the grove's outer ring. It will not be as sunlight would, but it will allow all of us to see movement more accurately than infravision can in this chill mist. Scent will be dampened as well, for obvious reasons. >>

Neosodos does not mention that draconic senses will in fact still spot movement and threats through sheer magical will; neither he nor his Little Brother will be able to share that with anyone, after all.

<< The grove includes an outer ring of trees some sixty feet thick. We should reach that ring some thirty feet inside that mist. Beyond that ring lies an open clearing some hundred and twenty feet across, roughly circular. At its heart lies the Heart Tree, and to the north of that lies the Heart Pond. The altar lies in the center of the Pond. The hags will almost certainly be gathered around the altar, and almost assuredly will have guardians surrounding the pond. Andie must reach the altar, and have time to lay hands upon it and release a spell to claim dominion over it, breaking the coven's hold. >>

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Syval halts with the party and takes a vanishingly small sip from his waterskin, wetting his lips before the coming violence as he catches his breath. << Perhaps the order of battle should be Honoria and myself first, >> he suggests over their shared connection. << Once we pass through the mist we can draw away the trolls by keeping to the trees. That will keep us from the hag's sight and so beyond most of their magic and I can weave a ghost sound of all four of us to attract the trolls. Then the rest of you come in and circle through the trees to get near the pool. If there's room Jyslin or I can rush the hags to disrupt their casting and Andie can support however the chaos allows. I have an enlarging spell for myself that will give me a minute of longer reach to keep the trolls at bay, another spectral horse that will last long after this battle is done, and enough Art for one more of either. >>

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Neosodos helps pass this around to everyone. They consider to the best of their ability. << Our time grows short. We have only minutes until the Hour begins. Whatever preparations any intend, do them now. I will call forth a distraction of very temporary rough duplicates to join the two of you. Enough, we can hope, that they will believe you are the whole group at first. >>

Jyslin lays a warrior's blessing of Aid upon both Syval and Honoria, as the lady knight prepares herself.

"Call forth your steed. We will lead it with us until we reach the clearing, and then I can mount." the princess knight recommends to Syval. This will allow that he need not spend even more precious seconds in the midst of danger to release both the mount and the enlargement spell. "My challenge will only protect Syval and I. Good luck to the three of you. Know that if you call, we will be there."

Once the others are ready Neosodos releases an additional spell, creating two more humanoid forms shaped out of magic and some of the muck and mire of the bog. They will not be able to fight, but they can trudge along with the other pair and seem in some small way to be Andie and Jyslin. Neosodos then coats them with a strong illusion's seeming of both women, with a tiny drake upon the Andie-clone's shoulder.

And then the pair can move forward into the mist, almost completely blinded at first by its cool moisture and opaqueness. Only the fact that moments later the entire mist field blazes with silvery light finally breaks this dreary spell of isolation.

But that also awakens keening and roaring howls of rage and fury that seem to be all around the pair and their simulacra companions.

---

The party wizard summons forth a light horse for the lady knight then sheathes himself in an arcane barrier and waits. Only when the doubles are ready does the dragonoid cast his last preparation - and grow bardiche and all to a towering size. "We have a Sister among us and no doubt the favor of Chipira. We would not all of us be here together if we weren't meant to succeed," he encourages with an eager smile that flashes draconic, pointy teeth. "Let's make this battle a story worth telling." Then together with the lady knight he strides into the mist...

Against the howls of the hag's guardians the hulking mage roars back, shouting in his challenge a word of draconic to slip into the air around them sounds for the two duplicates. With the blade of his bardiche set before him, Syval plows through the fog towards whatever comes next.

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Unable to target based on either sight or scent any better than the party can, the trolls howl furiously as they raven about, trying to whip up panic and induce sound. And when Syval shouts back in return, they hone in on that sound and charge. Clawed hands bounce repeatedly off of tree trunks as they advance as quickly as they can, heedless of harm. They're not hard to hear coming, bouncing with meaty thunks off of tree trunks, impaling themselves on limbs, rustling leaves.

Syval and Honoria are forced eventually to engage with the half-seen horde in the mist, still trying to get to the clearing. It's a harrowing sort of fight, barely able to perceive the enemy. But large as he is, Syval can make a stalwart stand, and Honoria forms up at his back, giving sharp, firm orders. They continue to march the way the trolls came, more a slow and lumbering fighting stroll rather than a running fight. They must defend the simulacra and the steed as they forge their progress towards the glen's open clearing. It's a mess, to be sure.

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<OOC> Syval says, "...Oh wow that's a thought. I could have cast Ghost sound 45ft away from us and had them barrel into empty fog while we booked it. Oh well, hindsight is 20/20. That's what a 14 INT buys at the market." <OOC> Syval says, "Ooh thank you! :D" <OOC> Syval says, "(ICly Syval thought they were surrounded and hoped to (a) spook them and (b) draw aggro for Jyslin and Andie following behind.)" <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "You weren't surrounded. But you DID graw aggro. :)"

Syval jabs and sweeps widely with his enlarged bardiche, using the weapon's sheer size like a bladed cane to feel the way ahead of them and trouble trolls that approach from the front. The sheer size of the weredragon gives the lady knight room to guard herself and their charges within the shadow of his weapon and on her sharp clear commands, the same glinting axeblade swings backwards overhead to help with foes at their back. Deadly green arcana arcs in the path of his weapon and explosions of color spark off the mage's robes as troll claws and teeth slash against his barrier, his clothes, and his leathery hide. Not as well armored as lady knight, several strikes draw blood and earn the dragonoid's towering rebuke of a swipe with claws of his own. Here and there the protective screen of his overhead axe swings cease as Syval's forced to fight off trolls against himself before returning to his weapon of choice - and gathering a new wound for his troubles each time. Obscured by the fog and mobbed by the troll horde, the scaled wizard can't keep purely to the civilized pole arts and protect himself at the same time.

Shifting forward and advancing slowly to keep within their self-made clearing of blades, Syval catches a break in the commotion and pauses for a deep breath. Then with the next crash of troll against tree before him, the green weredragon opens his mouth and disgorges his noxious breath weapon in front of them. <OOC> Syval says, "Reminder for us both, the recharge roll for this breath was a 1."

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The acidic cloud of gas is not by itself enough to dispatch these trolls, but it is enough to melt at their flesh and their lungs, hampering them. And best of all its damage is the like that is much, much harder for them to heal. Painful, it also means that damage will not repair itself for days, perhaps even weeks!

Honoria strides purposefully, and she calls out the name of her shield, its glow fierce beneath silvery moonlight illuminating the dense mist. Then a surge of blue-white light surges out from the shield, driving back the trolls that would hamper their progress, allowing the pair to keep up their march, and their charade. It is clear that Honoria is not completely unscathed, but she is not showing nearly the wounds that Syval is, and she seems better able to dispatch those foes that get too close before they get extra chances at her vitals.

As more trolls arrive, it is impossible for either the lady knight or the dragon mage to tell if they are arisen duplicates of chopped off limbs having grown whole new trolls, or if indeed additional forces are arriving to continue harrying them. But finally first Syval and then Honoria manage to stride through and past the last white-cloaked tree, the press of forest all around them giving way to open air, thick still with mist but no longer with obstacles other than their foes. Massive hewing blows lay low their opponents if only for moments, and Honoria whistles sharply, tugging the mystical steed forward even as she vaults up into the saddle. Her sword disappears messily into its scabbard as the short pole is pulled out. With a barked command it becomes the mighty lance in her hands, as she gives out the call, the battle cry: "Humanitas, Selune, and Autreanne!"

And Honoria charges, trusting the instincts of her steed to know where to step, how to step, and readying herself for the impact to come. In the open she can see the looming height of the massive Heart Tree, and knows beyond that lies the pond and surely a huge knot of the enemy. And she makes haste for it as hard as the steed can carry.

Is it any wonder, then, that said enemies buy this entirely, and have not yet realized this is not the whole of the forces arrayed against them?

---

Hewing down the last troll before him Syval's bardiche breaks the treeline with wide grateful swings as the weredragon forces his way into the more open space and finally lets the full reach of his polearm sweep in deadly arcs that leave a ghostly trail of forest-green arcana, turning back to stall the seemingly endless trolls long enough for the lady knight to saddle beside him. "Go Honoria, quickly!" he shouts above the din of battle. Another draconic roar punctuates her battle cry as the summoned horse gallops ahead and the weredragon brings his bloodied bardiche down upon the troll about to swipe her flank in passing. Left alone with the simulacra, Syval smears his sapphire armband with blood as he brushes its edge to draw out more protective magicks and squints grimly at the troll shapes in the fog. His hands shift upon his weapon's haft to take a more defensive stance overlooking the simulacra. Now he needs to buy time for the others to do what they must - and survive. <OOC> Syval says, "Whoop, one too many new lines. Sorry about the formatting."

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The lady knight charges pell-mell ahead towards the massive trunk of the heart tree, prepared to veer around it to reach the pond and the foes she is sure to find there. With her speed of progress, those few trolls she and her mount encounter end up skewered and tossed aside, and still she does not slow her charge. It's a mess.

Syval's roar helps keep most of the trolls still standing focused on him, giving him plenty of targets for his rage and his sweeping bardiche. Of course the figures of the simulacra would be doing a lot to help out if they were real, but as it is their swiping blades pass right through the trolls, their shouted cries summon only harmless sparks of light. Syval could try to keep up with Honoria, but he would be leaving the simulacra behind, and with it much of the illusion their presence was meant to carry off to draw in their enemies and give the rest of their team a chance to be successful.

With the heavy mist there is no way for Syval or Honoria to know that the rest of their party has finally breached the edge of the grove's clearing. With the non-detection spells laid upon them both and the invisibility and pass without trace effects, they leave no evidence at all of their presence. They won't be able to maintain that forever, but the hope is that it will be enough to get them to the Heart Tree, from which distance Andie is hoping she'll be able to make a mad dash - perhaps even a dimensional door - to the tiny island and the altar. Even better if their allies have managed to draw the attention and even presence of the coven away somewhat. For now, Jyslin wraps her arms around Andie and runs swift and sure across the ground, her own senses keenly attuned to this place; it is illuminated in moonlight, and where infravision is useless, low light vision is now ideal here, and to a moonpriestess this place is well lit indeed.

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<OOC> Syval says, "Would you like me to add anything before or after my pose to mesh with those tidy line breaks? I can start prepending that too." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Nah. It's fine. :) *smooches*" <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "But I do appreciate the ask."

It's a sacrifice for the plan they've chosen for Syval to stay behind and the weredragon holds his advance at the same edge of the clear where Honoria left him, using the woods themselves as his unyielding allies to funnel the trolls. The task is taxing even before he spares attention and occasional swings to maim the ones nearest the simulacra, and it's all too fast becoming impossible to distinguish troll from dragon blood splattering his red robes. But stalwart and unshaking in his conviction the mage doesn't back down, and a mix of blade, claws, and even teeth battle back ferociously against the witch's horde. Syval says "Send all the trolls you like! This day belongs to Chipira and the Sisters, and you won't have any of us!" Another deep breath precedes a second spray of acrid green, this time cast point blank upon the troll laid low before him and the wounded at its back. Is it the magic of the Heart Tree at work? The dragon neophyte produced this one more readily than usual. " <OOC> Syval says, "Mush client history as my witness I did not end my pose with a ". I have no clue where that came from." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li huggles. :) Syval rolls Breath Weapon Recharge (1d4+0) and gets 3 (3) <OOC> Syval hugs back and kisses. "I do enjoy pretty pose formatting to. If there's every a style change you'd like just let me know. If I've learned to stop using tabs I think I can learn anything." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "You started with a " and did not prepend with an @emit; so mu* added 'Syval says, ... and then appended " at the end." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Just so you know where it all came from." <OOC> Syval says, "Oh! I am the silly. That was an actual newline not a %r between paragraphs. Thank you."

It's a sacrifice for the plan they've chosen for Syval to stay behind and the weredragon holds his advance at the same edge of the clear where Honoria left him, using the woods themselves as his unyielding allies to funnel the trolls. The task is taxing even before he spares attention and occasional swings to maim the ones nearest the simulacra, and it's all too fast becoming impossible to distinguish troll from dragon blood splattering his red robes. But stalwart and unshaking in his conviction the mage doesn't back down, and a mix of blade, claws, and even teeth battle back ferociously against the witch's horde.

"Send all the trolls you like! This day belongs to Chipira and the Sisters, and you won't have any of us!" Another deep breath precedes a second spray of acrid green, this time cast point blank upon the troll laid low before him and the wounded at its back. Is it the magic of the Heart Tree at work? The dragon neophyte produced this one more readily than usual.

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li makes note to self to use the second version of that pose, not the first; and to edit 'witch's horde' to 'coven's horde' when editing this log for posting. <OOC> Syval says, "Er, thank you. I guess I'm more tired than I thought. ^_^;" <OOC> Syval shares blueberry yogurt. <OOC> Syval will just be grateful Andie didn't hear that. Honoria rolls Charge! To Hit (1d20+26) and gets 46 (20) <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li fistpumps! Honoria rolls Charge! Confirm (1d20+26) and gets 44 (18) <OOC> Syval says, "Go lady knight!" Honoria rolls Charge! Damage (5d8+130) and gets 156 (6,7,6,4,3) <OOC> Syval nearly swallows his tongue. "And now I know who will wear the pants in our relationship. Wow. A +26 5d8+130." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Charging, critical hit, with a lance, and Challenge." <OOC> Syval says, "Wait question: lances do x2 damage when charging and x3 crit, so that's x6 right? That should be 6d8 not 5d8? In case the extra die matters..." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li doesn't multiple them; I hadd the multiples together. I dunno what the RIGHT way to do it is, but that's how I have always done it. Otherwise it just seemed like cheating. So the x3 +x2 = x5. <OOC> Syval says, "Oh yeah Pathfinder has that weird rule about multipliers. Very good catch. That's a minor rule I keep forgetting." It's rather unceremonious indeed, being carted around in Jyslin's arms as the werepriestess sprints across the mist-shrouded open ground, but Andie tolerates this because Jyslin is the one and only person present with the best actualy perception in this place. She knows from experience that the hags can 'sense' things moving in the mist, and can target them to some extent. But even the hags cannot see clearly, cannot identify things well. With the non-detection auras around them the human witch is hoping that the hags will be completely unaware, at least so far, that she and Jyslin are here at all, rather than being the simulacra currently - she hopes - still fighting alongside Syval and Honoria.

With her goddess' divine moonlight radiating through the mist, Jyslin can see here almost as well as most could see in bright daylight. And she knows where lies those who are enemy to her faith in the preservation and protection of mankind: key to avoiding running into them. Invisibility and the non-detection are great, but she has to avoid them hearing her footsteps, and even one quarter elven blood and a lifetime of roamer experience can only do so much. It's a challenge best served with some swerving distance, rather than straight lines of progress.

For her part, Honoria charges around the side of the Heart Tree and aims herself quite directly for the Heart Pond; instinct alone tells her that the enemy will be thick with forces around the pond, and her direct strike will draw down their intense attentions upon her, with no thought at all for the others she can only pray have made it this far. Her ringing cry of challenge has long faded from the moist and chilled air, no echo to be found here, but its challenge is unmistakable, and the thundering of the magical mount's hooves is still quite clear. Despite being largely unable to see Honoria's charge, her targeted foe knows she is coming and is unsurprised. Yet even having some idea what is coming does nothing whatsoever to spare one of the coven of hags standing at the pond's edge to lead the enemy forces, as the princess knight's charge drives her blazing lance right through the hag's defensive barriers and indeed through her entire body with a resounding and thunderous crash which drives the hag into the pond. The shockwave of sound is such that it can even be heard all the way back at the edge of the grove clearing.

There is no way to tell if her target survives the strike, as she is lost with lance still embedded through her. Honoria wheels the horse about and fills the void in those ranks with herself as the lady knight lays about herself with her baraj and shield, taking on the carnage trolls nearby. "Have at thee, foul ones!"

The distant crash of lance and flesh lifts Syval's heart as he continues to battle far behind and he raises his voice to roar once more. It's yet more of his distraction, defiance to the trolls writhing in the haze of his acid breath, and proof he's still alive. Panting and swinging slower now, the weredragon neglects more and more the simulacra in an effort to keep himself standing. A pair of trolls charging him together knock Syval backwards into a tree with a woody crash and his bardiche drops to the ground as he's forced into a melee. Mossy skin and verdant scales entangle in a mass of feral clawing and biting that illuminate the mist with sparks and flashes of fracturing magic.

<OOC> Syval creaks a bit. "I think that's my last pose for the night. My muse is fading."" <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li hugs gently. <OOC> Syval hugs back. "This is good stuff, and whoo Honoria! Thank you for the good RP." <OOC> Syval takes a little afk for some bed prep. <OOC> Syval says, "Ahh, that's better." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "FYI, I have been updating the map tonight." <OOC> Syval says, "Nice. So I see. :)" <OOC> Syval says, "Hehe, red hag. :D" Neosodos rolls Burn! Casting check (1d20+20) and gets 22 (2) <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li hisses. Hag 8 rolls Saving Throw (1d20+12) and gets 27 (15) Honoria continues wheeling around, baraj and shield going in both directions at once as she carves her way to the edge of the Heart Pond.

That sound is close enough that Jyslin knows she has reached their destination even before she reaches the edge herself. She does not hesitate to drop Andie, trusting the witch to take care of her own transportation now as two gleaming blades of silvery light take shape and the former roamer becomes a whirling dervish of devastation upon the trolls she has found, becoming visible even as she is splattered with their blood and her robes spark with their feeble attempts to claw through to reach her flesh.

Dropped, Andie does not take a knee but immediately unleashes the magic she had already tied off, hopping magically from shoreline to island by will and memory alone. With the hags still present she knows she cannot simply claim the icon. But when she lays her hand upon the stone and lets her spell flow it is enough to disrupt the coven's own control, and that at least means they will not be able to summon the very power of the Bog against the party.

And then finally it is time. Neosodos has waited patiently, even as he has felt his mistress risk her life recklessly; listened to his little brother fighting potentially unto his own doom as as a horde of trolls embattle and surround him and keep getting back up despite his best efforts. Now, at last, the Eldritch Wyrm has something to say.

"Burn!"

At that command a pillar of flame erupts in place around the hag closest to him, stretching high up into the night sky, searing flesh from bone and powdering those bones as draconic fury is focused into the spell and infused with the spark of Lathander's own brilliance.

And the greatest power of the coven is broken, as their numbers are reduced from their thirteen by one who shall not recover on this mortal realm, and their link to the altar is disrupted preventing her recall until this battle is well over and decided.

And finally the mist begins to weaken and fade, though the entire glen is still bathed in brilliant silvery light.

As the piercing moonlight breaks through the misty vale the sounds of battle and carnage continue to echo distantly from the far end of the clearing. Entangled in a carnage of mossy skin and scales, Syval savages a troll to the ground and turns upon another, cleaving grim arcs through the fading fog with the green arcana bleeding off his claws and teeth. Tired, injured, and without his polearm, the dragonoid is still more than a match for a single troll. Their line still holds.

With the power of the coven in their numerology broken, with their link to the power of the Heart interrupted, the hags are furious, and they hesitate not at all as the four upon the island unleash that fury as one upon the figure just appearing in their midst. No matter Andie's own power and preparation, there is nothing she can do to somehow escape this unscathed, and a searingly green-gold pall of death falls upon the island and all those within.

A deep and bellowing twin roar of fury sounds as the mists begin to break and fade, and fists the size of massive boulders tear through those wisps to pound on Jyslin like mighty anvils hurled by an enraged and careless god. Strong as the therianthrope priestess may be she is staggered and splattered, driven knee-deep in the sodden ground and her body is broken by the blows, her therianthropic healing doing what little it can to keep her on this side of death's door.

With a renewed cry of "Autreanne!" the lady knight wheels her magical steed once more and charges past further trolls as she aims herself towards the largest foe she can see outlined in the fading mists, hewing at the two-headed bulk of the monger troll as if she might fell the mighty oak of its fury with her blows. Her shield erupts in light as it manages to deflect a powerful curse hurled from the closest of the remaining hags, the spell's landing still sufficient to unseat the lady knight.

So far away from his allies, all alone, the dragonoid wizard fights desperately for his own life as well as his allies. And through his rage and the crest of fear comes a few carefully chosen words of mindpseech: << Drink this, little brother. >> And a mote of golden light shines through the mists as that same glow falls from on high down towards the green-scaled warrior.

Syval drives his claws into a carnage troll's midsection then hunches over to gasp for air, only to roar in pain as the not yet dead creature slashes across his chest, spraying fractured magic from the multitude barriers they pierce. "You will not have us!" he shouts with half-breaths, still defiant in the face of the endless horde. "Syval of Amlar is not bested... by the thrall of hags! Send all your numbers to me, dragon-sired -- a green dragon -- is not bested by trolls!!" Gathering himself, the winded therianthrope shoves the troll mightily away and takes a wild swipe with his free hand, then staggers back against a thick tree. His own wounds are slowly healing but far slower than the hag guardians which even fallen are visibly stitching back together.

The wizard's eyes flash with fury as he catches sight through the thinning mist of another minion preparing to charge in, then a familiar voice jars his focus and the young dragonoid looks up towards the warm light of Lathander illuminating his scales. Opening his mouth to it, Syval chomps the mote of light when it draws near and swallows it whole.

<OOC> Syval has never eaten light before. This is a first! <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "It's glowing. But it's not just light. It's a magical potion. ^_^" The dragonoid is rewarded for his acceptance of chance and fate, as the small glass vial shatters and releases the tingling golden fluid within, a rush of warmth and vitality that carries with it tremendous healing potential, wounds knitting themselves closed completely in seconds. As more wounds are delivered, still the healing rejuvenates and restores for as long as its effects last; even swallowing glass turns into at most a minor inconvenience. <OOC> Syval says, "Oh my what a potion!" <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Syval has just consumed a Potion of Regeneration. For the next 16 rounds he'll be healing 16 hit points per round, up to and including regrowing limbs, healing nerve damage, regrowing eyeballs, etc." <OOC> Syval says, "Phew! That's me at 30 HP then, roughly. Timely deliverance." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Big Brother is handy for those timely interventions. :)" <OOC> Syval says, "Make that about 41 HP. My formula got confused when I pasted it over. The trolls are averaging around 8.5 dmg per round because 37 AC is SO MUCH." <OOC> Syval says, "Oh! But by my count that makes 11 rounds meaning no more Enlarge Person." <OOC> Syval says, "Even more dodge but a little less hitting back." <OOC> Syval says, "Pose goes to the party, I'll react to the potion afterwards. :)" <OOC> Syval says, "And on second thought I'll make that 30 HP. It suits the story better; my math was averages anyway." <OOC> Syval says, "Would you like to pause here for the night?" Jyslin Tigress rolls Leap (1d20+28) and gets 31 (3) Jyslin Tigress rolls Claw #1 (1d20+25) and gets 45 (20) Jyslin Tigress rolls Claw #2 (1d20+25) and gets 30 (5) Jyslin Tigress rolls Bite (1d20+20) and gets 26 (6) Honoria rolls Charge (1d20+20) and gets 25 (5) Honoria rolls Baraj 1st (1d20+23) and gets 38 (15) Honoria rolls Shield 1st (1d20+21) and gets 29 (8) Honoria rolls Baraj 2nd (1d20+18) and gets 37 (19) Honoria rolls Baraj 3rd (1d20+13) and gets 27 (14) Jyslin Tigress rolls Claw #1 confirm (1d20+25) and gets 29 (4) Honoria rolls Baraj 2nd confirm (1d20+18) and gets 32 (14) The battle in and around the Heart Pond is brutal and the damage done is devastating.

The sickly yellow-green billowing cloud of death over the island is pierced by lances of brilliant white-gold light seemingly going in all directions.

Pounded down and breaking beneath the mighty blows of the enraged and agonized monger troll, Jyslin surrenders her blades, allowing them to fall as she calls upon Selune's power and her own blessing, the priestess disappearing into the form of the enormous tigress which roars and leaps upon the foe, tearing with tooth and claw.

Hearing the tiger's cry the lady knight wheels away from the monger troll, leaving the enormous two-headed foe to the priestess as she instead wheels once more, charging in the direction of the blast of the spell she deflected. The horse leaps the edge of the Heart Pond and the lady knight unleashes her martial fury upon the hag with staggering blows.

And in the heart of the conflagaration a small scaled figure lands unerringly upon his beleaguered mistress' shoulder, and his draconic might is added to her own, bolstering the witch as she continues their battle.

Back at the edge of the clearing Syval entangles himself with another troll as a rejuvenating fire floods his body from the god of dawn's magic. Mauled and bitten, his new wounds heal almost as quickly as they appear. Fatigued from the constant crush of battle, his breaths come more steadily and after he sucks in a greedy lungful of air, a green miasma leaks out the edge of his mouth and the dragonoid shows his fangs in a grim smile. Seconds later another caustic cloud assaults the woodland,widening the blackened, dead expanse that is the verdant therianthrope's battleground.

Syval rolls Breath Weapon Recharge (1d4+0) and gets 4 (4) <OOC> Syval says, "Oh whoops, I also shrank this round." <OOC> Syval says, "Eh, artistic license. Leave this pose as-is and I'll deal with it next round." Andie rolls Casting Check: Stormbolts (Fire) (1d20+30) and gets 43 (13) <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "SO glad she is not doubly blessed like Jyslin and Honoria." Andie rolls Damage: Stormbolts (Fire) (16d8+36) and gets 108 (8,5,3,1,8,4,8,3,2,8,1,1,5,8,4,3) <OOC> Syval says, "Witchy 13~" <OOC> Syval says, "And Jyslin is single-blessed correct? Blonde hair but green eyes?" <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Jyslin is doubly-blessed, though she does not look it. Her green eyes are a werekitty thing." <OOC> Syval says, "Ah that overwrote her blessed blue eyes? I would not have guessed that." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Blessed eyes are light grey, or silver." <OOC> Syval says, "Ah so they are. I had "stormy blue-grey" for Honoria and assumed it was the blue aspect." <OOC> Syval says, "Is there a significance then to witch-touched being green eyes and a Child of Selune's eyes turning green? I'm tempted to blame Selune's influence." Hag #1 rolls Saving Throw vs. Stormbolts (fire) (1d20+20) and gets 31 (11) Hag #2 rolls Saving Throw vs. Stormbolts (fire) (1d20+20) and gets 37 (17) Hag #3 rolls Saving Throw vs. Stormbolts (fire) (1d20+20) and gets 33 (13) Hag #4 rolls Saving Throw vs. Stormbolts (fire) (1d20+20) and gets 35 (15) Hag #5 rolls Saving Throw vs. Stormbolts (fire) (1d20+20) and gets 29 (9) Hag #8 rolls Saving Throw vs. Stormbolts (fire) (1d20+20) and gets 25 (5) Hag #9 rolls Saving Throw vs. Stormbolts (fire) (1d20+20) and gets 32 (12) Hag #10 rolls Saving Throw vs. Stormbolts (fire) (1d20+20) and gets 35 (15) Hag #11 rolls Saving Throw vs. Stormbolts (fire) (1d20+20) and gets 32 (12) Hag #12 rolls Saving Throw vs. Stormbolts (fire) (1d20+20) and gets 23 (3) Hag #13 rolls Saving Throw vs. Stormbolts (fire) (1d20+20) and gets 37 (17) <OOC> Syval says, "Oh goodness that was a big AoE. c_c" <OOC> Syval blanches @ saves and hushes up. Neosodos rolls Intimidation (1d20+29) and gets 39 (10) Carnage Troll #1 rolls Will Save vs. Intimidation (1d20+10) and gets 16 (6) Carnage Troll #2 rolls Will Save vs. Intimidation (1d20+10) and gets 25 (15) Carnage Troll #3 rolls Will Save vs. Intimidation (1d20+10) and gets 27 (17) Carnage Troll #9 rolls Will Save vs. Intimidation (1d20+10) and gets 16 (6) Carnage Troll #10 rolls Will Save vs. Intimidation (1d20+10) and gets 30 (20) Rock Troll #1 rolls Will Save vs. Intimidation (1d20+12) and gets 22 (10) Rock Troll #2 rolls Will Save vs. Intimidation (1d20+12) and gets 28 (16) Rock Troll #3 rolls Will Save vs. Intimidation (1d20+12) and gets 19 (7) Rock Troll #4 rolls Will Save vs. Intimidation (1d20+12) and gets 23 (11) Monger Troll rolls Will Save vs. Intimidation (1d20+16) and gets 34 (18) The mists continue to thin as the battle around the Heart Pond rages on. It is thusly not truly visible to the hangs gathered and coordinating as they assault Andie that the human witch was quite near to falling until the touch of her familiar bolstered her strength and vitality, giving her the strength to go on and renewing her defensive barriers.

Andie reaches into the pouch at her waist and grasps the searing stone held there, golden light spilling into the illuminated mist as it burns away. Her stave strikes the ground between her feet, and then the witch herself erupts like a blazing pyre, disappearing completely in cosmic flame.

Bolts of that flame strike outwards, striking very hag still standing on the island around her and around the edge of the pond. The first hag struck in the seconds that unfolds literally explodes as white ash; one is forced to image that her spirit, if it still exists, arrives in its next life still screaming and smoking. Each beam that lances out strikes unerringly and erupts, shrouding the hags in flame and eliciting wailing screams. With the power of their coven already broken most of them are simply snuffed out.

In the end, as the last of the bolts' deadly work is done, the pyre column suffusing from the heart of the Heart Pond's island extinguishes, and Andie falls to her knees amidst the ash piles of the hags. Neosodos lifts his head and booms out in a voice better suited to an enormous wyrm of city size: "Your coven is broken! Flee this place now, or be destroyed without mercy, even unto the seeds of your spawn!"

It is only later that some will realize this message was not delivered audibly at all, but by force of Mindspeech, where no translation could possibly be required. The remaining trolls see, as the fire has seared away most all of the fog that remained around the pond, that their hags are well and truly erased, and that booming command is enough to convince them to flee despite their usually indomitable will in the face of threats. Only the Monger Troll resists, but it soon finds itself beset and alone, as the enormous mystical weretigress rips into it with unabated fury whilst the lady knight has once more wheeled about and is hewing through the creature's legs as if to bring down a towering oak.

The terrible battle nears its end, as the few remaining trolls flee through the trees in search of some other source of food and power that will not erase them from existence. <OOC> Syval gives Neos a berry for being such a good little tac' nuke. <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Heh." <OOC> Syval says, "Did anything catch fire just now?" <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "That's the interesting part: no." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "It's actually in the gosh darned spell description." <OOC> Syval says, "Extra-Divine Fire*. :D" <OOC> Syval says, "(If it's not from Lathander or the Elemental Plane of Fire then it's only sparkling magic fire.)" <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Or from a dragon's breath." <OOC> Syval snap-points. :)

The light and heat of the sudden pyre press through the remains of the fog, illuminating even the far clearing and bringing a singular pause to the blood and gore of trolls and dragon entangled in mortal struggle. Still backed to the tree with gushing wounds as the acid spray of his latest breath fades out, Syval makes no move to drop his guard when the trolls pause and begin to disperse. Dazed by fatigue, adrenaline, and pain, the fanged wizard only stops his instinctive swipes at anything near him when his claws find air and every able troll has fled past him into the trees. Somewhere in the shadow of the witch's fiery reckoning, the wizard's arcana has finally departed, leaving him shrunken to normal size and small beside the retreating green shadows. Movement by his feet summons a magically drawn ball of acid into his clawed hand and Syval smites his last troll, only then stopping to once more catch his breath and sweep his jaggedly alert sandy eyes across the newly exposed clearing.

A hand half-clenches upon air prompting the scaled wizard to look around in confusion before walking from his tree and retrieving his bardiche. Then after looking about himself with mortal paranoia, Syval begins walking into the clearing towards the Heart Tree and the pool beyond it. Almost completely covered on his front in the sanguine grime of battle, his own and the trolls', his robes torn and tattered almost to ruin, and deep wounds still visible despite his startling rapid regeneration, the normally tidy mage looks like an absolute mess, yet his steps are stable. They've won the day and the hags did not take their wizard.

<OOC> Syval is going to smell trolls for a week. <OOC> Syval says, "I now know that there exists a worse smell than troll. Somehow the inside of troll is worse." <OOC> Syval has reaffirmed his reason to prefer his bardiche to his natural weapons. Claws and fangs are so much messier... <OOC> Syval did debate a little letting the party come back to find him rather than going to them. Might have been more cinematic that way. <OOC> Syval says, "Your go in either case." Syval's approach is definitely noticed by those gathered on and around the pond, even in the oppression of darkness. Yet by the hour of the turn, the hold of the coven has been broken and indeed the coven has been quite literally erased. The trolls have been destroyed or driven off.

The enormous tigress paces around the outside of the lake, checking to be absolutely sure nothing is stirring that is not the party. Thankfully her own healing - though not magically augmented like Syval's right now - is working to close her wounds and knit back together the beautiful furry hide.

The lady knight has dismounted the magical construct that was her mount and approaches Syval, her helm's visor raised as she embraces the big green scaly wizard. "I am very glad to see that you survived, Syval." She felt bad leaving him behind, even though that had to have been the plan. Being the plan and sitting well in the heart are not the same thing in the slightest.

Finished, now, Andie has lain her hands upon the tiny wooden altar on the island and completed her own binding to the Heart and its power. Only once that is complete does she slip back through another dimension door to stand on the shore and check on the others. "I too am very glad you are still with us, Syval. Neosodos, you did well in your timing."

The tiny dragon ripples and flaps out his wings, puffing out his chest. << I am very glad my timing was sufficient, Little Brother. I grew quite concerned for you. But at last we have accomplished what we traveled all this way to do. I do hope that means there will be a bit of rest, now? Not more rushing and haring off to madness right away? >> <OOC> Syval says, "Sanity check, those of us with low-light do have moonlight available yes? I thought I recalled silver moonlight when Jyslin was going about earlier." <OOC> Syval also offers late strawberry yogurt dessert. <OOC> Syval says, "FYI it's a whole 5 rounds for me to heal back to full, 7 since the potion took effect." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "So in a minute, you're back to full. As opposed to a couple of hours for Jyslin." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "There is moonlight, enhanced by the spell Jyslin cast. But that spell's effect is not nearly so significant when the mist has burned away. It's still there, definitely, but not for long; she's not that high a level as a priestess." <OOC> Syval says, "Half a minute. And Jyslin's gaining 10-30 HP/m depending on her form, no?" <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "She is." <OOC> Syval says, "Did you mean a couple hours for Honoria to heal then? For Jyslin that'd be enough HP to heal a terrasque."

The affectionate welcome seems to catch Syval by surprise and the dragonoid grunts under his breath before returning the lady knight's hug. Whatever tension he was still holding in his shoulders slackens as relief washes over him and the young wizard smiles in his toothy draconic way. "And I you, Lady Honoria. Chipira was on our side today, as was fated." Despite her armor poking his bare skin in places, he rests briefly in the princess' embrace as his eyes finish surveying the rest of their party, finding everyone present with all their limbs. Once he breaks gratefully away, already looking more himself and less a weredragon on death's door, Jyslin's striped form gets a special look and thankful nod. The roamer's prudence is as always appreciated.

"I might not be here without your help, Elder Brother. You summoned me a peerless draught," he replies to the Eldritch Wyrm with a look towards his witch in suspecting the potion's true origin. As to rest, Syval grins playfully. "For rest, ask your witch. She's paid for this journey; I'll follow if she wishes to hike through the night."

Andie smiles at this. "We have already done just that, and I thank you - all of you - for doing so. With a full day yet until the deadline, we have freed the Heart of White Bog and assured that ascendance of power has not been allowed to threaten much of the easternmost Shaar. I beg each of you to relax and take some measure of ease. I will have rituals to perform here for a few days. I am sure after some sleep and a good meal we can begin discussions of things like payment, future plans, and other possibilities."

Honoria appreciates Syval's giving credit where credit is indeed due. "I should say more than a few of the deities laid their hands upon our path tonight." She glances around at the others, and then collapses her spear and places it back on her belt. "Let us clean ourselves, and then set up camp, yes? Andie, I presume we should do so away from the Heart Tree and the Pond themselves? But close enough?"

Jyslin does come by to snuffle at Syval, clearly pleased to see and sense that he is well and appreciating that he understands and respects her own concerns just now. She stays close for a bit, watching over everyone, but then starts prowling around the outermost ring of the clearing to keep two eyes, two ears and a big tigery nose on matters.

At Honoria's cue, Syval weaves a familiar sign with his hand and banishes the red leftovers from Jyslin's fur as the tigress approaches, then he works on cleaning himself, what's left of his robes, and his bardiche. A willing look is offered to the lady knight and witch, just in case, and the wizard suggests, "Perhaps Jyslin and I can sniff out a less sacred water source for our camp once we've disposed of the bodies. After we've all washed I would enjoy to hear how the four of you made such a blasted mess so quickly."

The Child of Selune, fur, stripes, and all, gets a kind look from the dragonoid though he seems a little unsure of how to respond to her form otherwise. Syval might not have practice with cats.

<OOC> Syval kind of wants to pet but others are watching and also not sure how to pet. <OOC> Syval says, "Anywhere around here I think is a fine spot to pause or fade, your choice. I'm okay to RP smoothly through or slide forward to a convenient social moment." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "We should pause and go to bed." <OOC> Syval hugs. "Thank you for the grand RP session. Now we get to enjoy the wrap-up at our leisure."

Honoria accepts Syval's offer; she is pretty messy after all that fighting. She will still be doing plenty of careful kit repair and maintenance, but this will cut down on the stench of troll, and is appreciated. "I will help the others move the troll bodies." she explains to the lady witch, as Andie sets about to assemble their campsite, including a good fire.

"I have plenty of water available." the witch explains. "I would rather we all stay inside the circle until the rituals are done tomorrow. I realize you will have to take the bodies out. But do not linger, please."

Jyslin and Syval can find a spot a quarter mile away from the clearing, a marshy pit of the bog that will surely swallow up the bodies. It might be best to burn them, but it seems everyone is pretty well burned-out as it were. But they are not getting back up, and that is what is most important.

By the time the others return and are cleaned up, Andie has the campsite set up and a warm stew cooking. Fresh water is available in a few barrels, and she has the satchel open, presenting the open gateway to the basement of her hut in the Dread Bogs.

Other than checking on Andie frequently, Jyslin remains in her four-footed form and continues patrolling the outside ring of the clearing. This leaves Honoria and Syval to get rest as they see fit, which Honoria begins by removing her armor to clean up nicks and scrapes and check on each little piece. "Definitely the most difficult battle since I awakened from the statuette."

Once the bodies are stacked and a semblance of camp is made, Syval ducks into the portal to retrieve his dishes, then fills his mug from a barrel and drinks deeply. The mage is so thirsty he doesn't even flavor it.

"Fwuh! That was a battle that is worth stories," he proclaims as he wipes his chin dry with a scaled forearm. "And we all came out of it alive." The dragonoid wizard sits down heavily with a large, throaty huff. "Wealth and fame to all of you, and if I never see a live troll for the rest of my life I will have seen enough."

Honoria chuckles at this. "No one to see our battle but each other, and none of us bards. I doubt there is much fame coming for this battle, Syval."

Andie sighs. "And it would seem the hags had not yet managed to move themselves in completely. I have found no sign of any treasures of theirs. Though I will have a better idea of that after completing tomorrow's rituals."

The witch watches the tigress pacing around the clearing. "If she would concentrate elsewhere, she might be able to sense something. But she is doing what she thinks is right, and I do not want to lecture her."

Neosodos settles on his mistress' lap and stretches out languidly. << I would very much like a nap. We have a lot of magical working to do tomorrow. >> he comments drolly.

The emerald mage smiles dryly to Honoria, though already his spirit seems lifted from their battle. "I think they may yet find us anyway. Chipira isn't often so direct. The gods reward great deeds in their turn after all; no need to pilfer the rock troll for gems." Lifting the ragged edge of his torn robes, Syval grimaces lightly, no doubt considering his own work to be done in repairing it. Then his brow furrows as Andie's remark pricks his ear. "Do they not travel with it?"

Neosodos receives a soft chuckle from the larger and younger drake but no comment. The Eldritch Wyrm has earned his quiet rest.

"I suspect that whatever their lair was before coming here still holds whatever treasures they were keeping. After all, they do not have a full cauldron, here, and there is no way a food coven of thirteen could function on the small travel cauldron I have found." Andie explains.

"There were thirteen of them!?" Syval blurts in amazement as he sweeps his head between the women. "By the gems which cheat fate, I had expected half a dozen at most. If you four bested thirteen hags with more trolls besides then I deserve little credit for our victory."

Both women who are currently still bipedal and human shake their heads. "Believe me, there's plenty of credit to go around." Honoria insists.

Andie simply shrugs. "It was a very difficult battle, and I had to unleash some of my most powerful magic to best them, even after breaking their connection to the Heart." Though she does not say it, clearly she does what she can to keep her own footprint upon the world to a minimum. The only other times that Andie has unleashed some of her greatest art has been to save Jyslin, and to bring back the dead Cantare braves.

Syval smiles at Honoria's modesty and shakes his head softly before helping himself to another drink. "Still, thirteen hags... their lair must be monstrous." The werewizard pauses, then sighs out his nose as his eyes turn heavily towards their Sister. "Does that not mean we should seek out and purge it so others don't rebuild in their wake?"

Andie sighs. "Someone will have to find it. I suspect their lair is up into the mountains. I will have to find some local resources willing to assist in tracking down that location, once the Heart is secured." Clearly not something she really wants to take on, or even seriously talk about right now.

Honoria speaks up. "I should like to see what has become of Aramis. I will gladly escort you there. Surely there are likely to be some in such a place willing to lend aid to a Sister in need, especially against such a threat as the resurgence of a hag coven?"

"Thank you for the offer, Honoria. I likely will take you up on that after a few days." Andie answers. "And yes, I imagine there are some in and around Aramis who might be willing to help. But I will likely not be telling them my nature. What we found and what we suspect should be enough to engender interest and attention, without any of that."

That said, Andie finishes drinking a bit more water. "I believe I am going to try get some sleep. I do recommend the two of you not stay up all night." And with that the witch scoops up her lap full of tiny wyrm and heads into her tent.

"I had planned to take that path as well, and I think I know enough of them to help in any negotiations," Syval offers up. "In any event our lady knight deserves a chance to visit when we're so close. It may be the one place in the Shaar you have a chance at blending in," he teases lightly to Andie before the witch-touched woman prepares to turn in.

"Take your rest. Jyslin and I will take our customary watches." Raising his mug with a nod, the wizard bids her goodnight. A glance is given to the patrolling tiger in their midst - he hasn't quite lost track of her - but Syval seems to assume her agreement.

The tigress turns, offering a chuff and a nod, wagging her ears as she watches the witch make her way into her tent and bed down for the night. Then she continues her patrol until she has come back around to the north of the Heart Pond. Then she pads softly over and through the tent entrance.

Honoria smiles at this. "I wonder if the people of Aramis still raise fine steeds? I would still like to procure one that is well trained, as your magical creation - most helpful, I assure you, Syval - is not." Of course given what Honoria has been told of the fate of the Shaar since her own time, battle-trained war steeds capable of sustaining beneath her are likely to be rare indeed, especially here on the Eastern part of the Shaar. The Brotherhood of Athena may very well be the only place where such steeds are common, and even there it would take quite a lot to get them to part with one.

The green-scaled mage chuckles kindly and waves off the concern. "No offense taken. It's an apprentice conjuration meant for the fields and trade roads. The Art for a war mount isn't lost I think, but it's certainly a rare spell to weave, as are natural horses which could bear the weight of your arms and armor. All horses of that stock who reach Delzimmer are from the Brotherhood of Athena, and they're a journey far north." Syval helps himself to some of the hot stew then lifts the ladel to offer it to Honoria. "There is a path to there from Aramis, though it's a distance beyond Daer-Calt."

Smiling slyly the young mage adds, "That seems a lavish way to travel compared to flying a dragon, or you could seek out the Hunnuli herd. I do think a couple were quite taken by you." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li hugs. <OOC> Syval hugs back. <3 Honoria accepts some stew and eats slowly, letting her body work on digesting and assimilating the food to aid in her own recovery process; she is, after all, merely human no matter how special or exceptional she may be. "The ... Brotherhood ... of Athena? Not the Sisterhood?" She seems very, very non-plussed by this. A bit of prodding will eventually get her to reveal that there was in fact a cult of Athena in her own time, but that the warriors of great excellence inspired by that cult were led by a sisterhood; while males could be had, the leadership was all female. When Syval explains that so far as he is aware the order has been called the Brotherhood, and largely led by and virtually consisting of almost - if not quite - exclusively males for as much of modern history as he can readily access, Honoria is dumbfounded. And more than a bit upset.

"If Aramis does not still train such steeds, perhaps someone there may still know this more advanced magic?" Honoria inquires. It never even occurs to her to wonder if Andie knows such a spell, though the witch is no longer at the fireside to ask. Perhaps that is it?

Syval smiles gently at the time-displaced princess. "Perhaps. They're a very witch-touched people and with their history, Aramis is a place such Arts could be preserved." The draconic mage stretches his wings out as he eats more of his own stew. It's visible - almost too well with the state of his clothes - that the young therianthrope is better for wear than the lady knight after their long day of riding and battles, and against the dark backdrop of the forest woods his mossy scales glint with a regal sheen in the firelight.

<OOC> Syval, only just passing the Will save to not prestidigitate an arrow towards himself. <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li chuckles. "Do you really think the hunnuli herd will have remained close by to the Bog, after dropping us off?" Honoria questions. "I would have thought they would leave us as rapidly as they had been in the process of leaving when they met us." Not that the lady knight would not love to ask one of the hunnuli to consent to bonding with her. They are, after all, amazing! And they don't mind dragon-scents.

"Your therianthrope nature does have its advantages." Honoria mentions later. She continues working on maintenance of her armor, and once done starts on her sword. Later she actually deploys her lance so that she can take care of that as well. Last of all is her shield; even with the magical cleaning she insists on caring for everything by hand, buffing out scratches and the like.

"It sounds like you intend to visit Aramis after we are done, here. Have you any plans yet beyond that visit?" Honoria inquires. They haven't spent a lot of time really talking about plans beyond reaching this very place and the battle they just finished.

"I think given the wisdom of their lead mare and interest in us, one or two may have stayed behind to learn the outcome of our battle with the coven," Syval reasons. The mage smiles at the compliment he receives and bows his head.

"Well I hope to spend our rest here learning more of that nature. At the very least a dragon should know how to fly, and beyond magical studies, shifting into a full dragon shouldn't be beyond me." Smirking a little he explains, "You'd be harder to carry otherwise."

"And speaking of shifting..." The weredragon pauses in his answer as he sets aside his bowl and shuts his eyes to focus inwards, relaxing the connection to his spark and willing himself back fully into human form.

<OOC> Syval says, "1) How does the heart of the bog feel to me now that the hags no longer control it? 2) Can I still sense it in human form?" <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li hmms. "Yes, the Heart of the Bog feels different now that the hags are no longer in control. That started actually towards th eend of the fight. And it will feel different again when Andie completes the ritual to body to the Heart." Honoria blinks, a bit startled at the turn in that bit of phrase. "Wait ... what?" Where did the idea of Syval carrying Honoria come from? She's not sure, nor does she know how she thinks or feels about that. It's just such a non-sequitor to her. "Your ... your gliding seemed to be going well, before we had to concentrate more on rapid transit than on more training. Hopefully you can find the means to fly." Honoria has no more experience with a dragon therianthrope than anyone else, so she has no idea what is and isn't possible.

Yes. The Eldritch Wyrm really is the expert on such things.

Watching and listening to Syval shifting back is never comfortable, but Honoria has learned to accept it and keep the wincing off her face even if it's not out of her eyes. <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "I imagine that in human form, his sense of the jungle would be muted, but not absent. Just less immediate. Like light through cheesecloth." <OOC> Syval says, "Thank you. It warms his heart to not have lost that completely. :D" <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Basically, now that he is aware of and in contact with his spark, I would think he'd always have that sense. Only something that could mute the spark could mute his awareness entirely." <OOC> Syval says, "Oh, and we're still speaking Maenast right?" <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "SHe's mixing Maenast and Shaaren." <OOC> Syval oddly enjoys that, and the accent still helps.

Syval exhales softly into the humid night air and rolls his shoulders before taking up his utensils again to finish eating. His sandy eyes catch the firelight as he notices the lady knight's gaze and he looks back reassuringly. "I'm sure it looks worse from the outside; shifting doesn't hurt like it did at first." Quirking his brow in puzzlement, the young mage apologizes. "Sorry, was that the wrong word in Maenast? I mean to carry you like a horse."

The lady knight looks on Syval quite questioningly, clearly unsure if she believes him that shifting is not painful; it certainly was before, and it doesn't sound any better now than it did then.

Then comes the non-sequitor, and Honoria considers his clarification, which she does not feel clarifies much of anything. "The word will do for that, yes. But ... why would I ride you, Syval? That does not seem helpful for either of us. A mighty wizard should not be a beast of burden." <OOC> Syval says, "Buh. Client why did you not alert me to this pose? >.<" <OOC> Syval says, "Sorry for the delay. Typing now..." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li cuddleholds.

The young mage chuckles lightly as he explains, "Well I don't believe the others will follow us forever - to Aramis perhaps but to Delzimmer or past Daer-Calt? I'd originally thought we could travel with a caravan to make our way safely back, before I sprouted wings. Flying should be a great deal faster and avoid much of the troubles we've encountered, and it seems senseless if one of us can fly for the other to go about on foot or by horse." Syval smiles confidently as he appraises the lady knight, bereft of her armor but no less imposing for it. The pair are eyelevel seated and if anything, the young Delzmaer is comfortable with that. "I don't have much might as a mage but I'm confident armor and all I could lift you without great difficulty, and with the added strength of my draconic form you might even be light."

Honoria shakes her head. "Strong enough you may be. But large enough, and for long enough?" Though she has seen Syval get large, it does not last very long, certainly not sufficient for hours of travel a day. "And I do not relish treating you - or any draconic being - as a mount. I am untrained, and that would be rude to us both." Honoria won't say 'no'. But she will be sure to voice her concerns. The thought of perhaps catching up with the hunnuli did seem to interest her, though, so she is clearly not entirely against such things.

"So, after Aramis you will return to Delzimmer? I suppose you should resume your arcane lessons, there?" Neither wizard nor anything else herself, Honoria does not understand how his pursuits as a weredragon are different than those as a wizard. "I am hoping to find something in Aramis. Perhaps some message left for me. Something that can show me the path I am now meant to follow when all the world is so changed I can barely recognize it, and it me not at all."

"We shall see how Chipira and Kyreska have decided things between them. I haven't tried to become fully dragon in form yet, but I'm sure it's within my powers somewhere." Raising a free hand, Syval turns it so his fingernails catch the light of the campfire so the lady knight can watch as they scale over and extend into sharp claws for just a second before turning back. "I'm a shapechange wizard and dragon-touched; if any mage can do it, I can. And honestly I would enjoy the challenge," he assures with an easy smile. "I've always been fond of performing great physical feats and the studies of a wizard are far too sedentary for me."

Turning to his pack, the green-haired apprentice pulls out his quill and map scroll to update their progress while talking. "Eventually yes, I'll return to Delzimmer. There are things in the Library of Oghma and in the High College's tomes that may help us, but I think my studies there are near an end." Syval grimaces uncomfortably and scratches at his hair with the quill. "Until I've learned enough to pass the journeyman exam or our path leads there for information, I would prefer to continue our journey together."

"Help us?" Honoria questions curiously. "I must admit, Syval, I really have little idea where I will go or what I will try to do after visiting Aramis. Part of me hopes that going there I will see something, experience something that will give me the insight I lack, a path to follow." A destiny to pursue, perhaps, though she does not say it. "I have not yet really managed to understand myself in the context of this very different time and world."

Syval pulls the small cushioned desk from his bag while listening and sets it upon his lap with a soft clinking as the dry beans inside settle into place. Unfurling the map scroll across it, the wizard pauses and looks up again sympathetically. His hands stop moving as he focuses fully again upon the lady knight. "Well then, let's start simply shall we? After Aramis you're welcome to follow me back to Delzimmer and wherever else our path takes us, and I promise to do whatever I can to help you integrate into the present time. It's only right as the one who summoned you from the statue that I look after you." Dipping his head lightly, the green-haired young therianthrope admits with polite contrition, "And perhaps there is a touch of dragon in me because I think I would like having such a noble princess in my charge, and aiding you as I can."

Syval's sandy eyes hang on Honoria's for another beat, then drop back to his map and implements as he continues in a conversational tone, "Beyond the immediate future, there is the problem of the genies which may be upon us in 3 years' time. As great a local threat as the hag coven was, the signs are missing which say it was our ultimate destiny. I think we're all meant for a larger challenge and that's the largest one a Sister can imagine, so I think absent any other signs, it's safe to assume we are meant for that. Delzimmer has books on geniekind as well as texts on the Great War and history around it; I would say, for now, that could be a good start." <OOC> Syval says, "Ever get where you know what you're trying to say but you only come up with 3 synonyms that don't /quite/ mean what you want?" <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li chuckles. "Sometimes, yes." <OOC> Syval had that a few times here. Sorry for the slow pose. <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li smooch nose. "S'okay. Stuff happens. Though I was close to checking on Discord to be sure you were OK." <OOC> Syval says, "I'll say the pose went through a few drafts between being verbose and to the point. I'm not sure I've completely sorted out Syval's manner of speaking in different companies." <OOC> Syval says, "I am enjoying how his Chipiran faith is developing through play. I think that's getting close to right; it's kind of a mix of INT pattern-recognition and faith. Syval, Honoria, and Jyslin all have untapped potential based on various clues he's picked up, which implies the hag coven was not their ultimate destiny. Next natural guess is the genie apocalypse." <OOC> Syval says, "It sort of weaves his faith with his wizard upbringing." <OOC> Syval says, "You could say there was a background INT check for that last paragraph, in a sense. :)" The lady knight considers this for a bit while she watches Syval working on his desk and the map. "True enough. The djinni peoples, as described, are a great danger. But there are many great dangers. The djinni had nothing at all to do with the destruction of the world I knew. And I worry that I would be of little use in battle against foes such as those." Not that Honoria has any better ideas; she's just being honest.

"Well, after our time here, and then Aramis, if we have no better ideas then I suppose we should try going to your Delzimmer. That, or to one of the other large cities like it. I doubt other small villages are going to be likely to enlighten us much." She seems more than a bit amused by Syval's comments about a dragon wanting to keep a princess. "With Cantare having agreed to let me go, I suppose I no longer have a need to hide myself from the world." That was the reason she was a statuette in the first place, after all.

"That is a relief," Syval responds, and seems to share the lady knight's feeling. "You needn't hide from the tribes at least. Bandits and civilized people will be a different problem I fear. You'll be... valuable to a great many of them and it's not right for a princess to have a commoner's protection of only her own strength of arms. Aramis should be safe for you, as places go. Autreanne's descendants people it and their hospitality is as famous as they are queer. Hopefully by Delzimmer we'll have a solution for you."

Looking back up at Honoria, the wizard watches as the firelight plays in her golden braids and chuckles softly to himself. "Your Shaaren is coming along well in such a short time, and we're near enough to water we could blame your accent on anywhere." Syval's gentle smile slips as his gaze drops to note the damage Honoria is polishing from her armor. "How are your wounds?" he asks with a note of concern.

Honoria peers curiously at the bare-chested human male. "I have difficulty believing mere bandits and the like would pose any threat to me, Syval. And if they do, then they shall face my full fury, and may their gods have mercy upon their souls." Honoria may be an honorable servant of the Mother and Protector of Mankind, but she is no one's punk or victim.

Period.

"I need no protector, common-born or noble. I was born a princess, that much is true. But the city I would have ruled has been dead for longer than most can even imagine." Honoria opines. "I am a lady knight, and I will defend myself and my own honor as any knight would." The way Honoria pronounces this almost evokes images of fields strewn with ruined bodies in her wake.

"My wounds are mostly healed, except for the broken ribs." the knight princess answers honestly. "I should have asked Jyslin to help set the ribs and promote the start of their healing. But she was quite determined in her patrolling, and equally so in accompanying Andie tonight." So the secretly romantic princess kept her mouth shut despite her likely significant discomfort. "It can wait for morning."

Syval lifts a hand tamely and softly nods his head, meaning no offense. "I know your strength of arms well enough, Lady Honoria. I only mean you deserve better. Even a merchant-born knight has footmen, a herald, and lesser guards for themselves. Your skill at arms, your honor, your lineage, and your history all alone deserve as much." The green-haired young man snorts derisively to the side in a rather drakeish gesture. "It galls me to think the middle rungs of the satrapies have more cloud with none of your merits."

Syval pauses for a drink from his water skin, careful not to drip on his map, then reaches out to offer it to Honoria. Opening his hand, the water skin drifts slowly towards her through the night air. "If you can give me clear instructions I can try to help, but at least I'll mention it to her tonight and have her check on you when our watches change. I never learned how to heal..."

Honoria does not argue the point to Syval more than she already has; she has made it clear that she does not feel it is necessary to secure her position or demonstrate the respect to which she is due. She does accept the water skin, nodding her thanks, and leans back stiffly, visibly gritting her jaw as she drinks from it slowly, several times. Then she rights herself, her color slowly returning as the pain eases up, and she closes the waterskin and holds it out to Syval. "Thank you."

As for Jyslin? Honoria says simply, "If you tell her to see me in the morning, that would be welcome. If she has time during her watch, that is acceptable as well, though I will not be able to sleep through that. And she may not have the spells left right now to help. But if she knows of the need, she can make sure to ask Selune for them during prayers." A moment of humor, really.

Syval retrieves his water skin with an uncomfortable look of sympathy at the lady knight's half-hidden pain. "There are non-magic ways of setting bones I would think she knows. Reaching across to the sapphire band on his arm, the draconic mage brushes his finger against its polished blue surface. "Alas my Art can only heal clothes and other objects, nothing alive. And sorry for my appearance," the green-haired young man finally apologies with a politely remorseful smile. He is at least a little self-conscious around the noble-born woman. "I do not have my mending art prepared so my robes will be like this until morning."

Syval retrieves his water skin with an uncomfortable look of sympathy at the lady knight's half-hidden pain. "There are non-magic ways of setting bones I would think she knows." Reaching across to the sapphire band on his arm, the draconic mage brushes his finger against its polished blue surface. "Alas my Art can only heal clothes and other objects, nothing alive. And sorry for my appearance," the green-haired young man finally apologies with a politely remorseful smile. He is at least a little self-conscious around the noble-born woman. "I do not have my mending art prepared so my robes will be like this until morning."

<OOC> Syval adds a missing quote mark. <OOC> Syval takes a moment to be glad he filled in the spell sheet properly enough to realize he has to be choosy about his daily cantrips. Honoria smiles wryly at the young wizard. "Syval, I was a knight. A soldier in a war. Believe you me, I have seen far worse than a half-undressed man whose clothing has been ruined in hard-fought battle. Even so, if you are bothered by it, I have a light blanket in my gear that you could wrap around yourself. I do not wish you to be uncomfortable." It's just that simple for her.

"The non-magical effort will be very painful. Necessary, but painful. These are not the first ribs I have broken and needed to have healed." Honoria explains. "To me, it has been only two tendays or so since the last time." Which means the last time was mere days before she was bound into the statue, given how long she has been out of it.

It's an admission of time that draws pause from the young wizard, even though he knew intellectually how time had passed for the lady knight. "You must have come directly from battle then... from one fight to the next," he realizes quietly. His map forgotten, Syval takes a moment to gather his thoughts, then offers, "I hope you can enjoy a measure of the peace in our time, and city life. There are plenty of attractions in Aramis and Delzimmer both."

It's a help perhaps that the small table is covering the young man's lap as he shrugs off his robes and removes the badly damaged undershirt beneath, leaving the muscular wizard completely bare from the waist up but more comfortable. He looks if anything a little leaner than when they set off; he's been eating enough from his large share to keep up but not to excess.

"If physical contests are to your tastes such things are still alive and well. Maybe city life has made me soft but I do try to keep my clothes on in high company. Wrestling is one of few times I don't -- exceptions are made for women of course," the wizard adds quickly.

<OOC> Syval facerubs a bit. "Hrmph. I can't say my muse is completely with me tonight. I'm having difficulty keeping a whole pose in mind at a time." <OOC> Syval says, "Sorry if anything comes off stilted or jumpy." <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li nuzzles. "Should we pause for tonight? It's your call." <OOC> Syval says, "Given that took me 20 minutes to come up with we probably should, at least on my side. I've still got a little to do before bed regardless though so I can hang around." "It was a war, Syval." Honoria reminds. "That is how war is. It was perhaps two days prior that I was healed from broken ribs, before the ritual was completed, and I was bound into the statue."

The princess knight smiles. "I do not often wrestle, though of course I can. My own contests tend to be of more supposedly noble pursuits. Jousting, horse races, what we called barrel races. And grand melees." But for the first time Syval will see Honoria actually blush, as he speaks of the fact that of course exceptions to his rule of clothing are made for time with women.

That, at least, was a topic not discussed with a princess knight, even in wartime, at least not by a man. But Honoria does not complain or chastise Syval. She leaves him free to say what he thinks; she just cannot stop her own reaction to it. <OOC> Syval says, "You would probably win more wrestling topless too, just saying you don't have to. O:)" <OOC> Jhiao Ting Li chortles.

Syval shakes his head in disbelief. "That is difficult to imagine, honestly, conflicts with such intensity. Monsters raid or come like a landslide then end, and the biggest conflicts of Delzimmer are street fights and burned buildings. Nothing so large." Noticing the bit of reddish tint to the fair woman's face, the young wizard realizes he may have overstepped and coughs lightly into his hand. "*Ahem*... That at least hasn't changed greatly in our time, though no one contests with armor on horseback; horse archery is still practiced widely. Wrestling is well enough regarded among men of all classes, but in any garb I've only seen satrap guardswomen partake..."

A smile does slip out as he adds, "We could turn a fun profit in a fighting circle, though... perhaps not in Delzimmer. I have a reputation with very short odds." Honoria merely shrugs and nods. "You have mentioned so before." she explains, proving she has been paying attention. She does understand that such massive scale warfare is frankly unheard-of in current times. She is not sure how to take that; it seems a good thing to her, considering the harm she saw visited upon all sides in the war she fought. But she had no choice then but to fight it.

"Mmm. Yes. Such armor as mine was quite rare even in my time." Honoria admits. "I am not much of an archer, but I am not incompetent. I simply do not have my own bow. Such was not my place." she admits. If she had needed a bow, she would have asked for one. But she had the weapons she needed to hand, and she was the best at using them.

"Most often, our contests would be lone individuals, either one on one, or many all against each other. Rarely were there teams." Honoria admits. But she can understand that her own capabilities would be unexpected in this timeframe, and could very well win by sheer surprise, not just her outright ability.

And as a warrior in actual war, Honoria sees nothing wrong with winning by virtual also of the opponent's ignorance. She would never lie, but if they do not think to ask, that is their stupidity. <OOC> Syval, now trying not to think too much about Honoria in a fighting circle.

"The two of us together could handle a group of good size," Syval opines, "but individual is most common now as well." The green-haired Delzmaer leans over his map table with interest and asks, "Speaking of battles, do tell me the story of how you and the others killed so many of the hags and trolls. I couldn't see the melee through all the fog."