Having nothing to do, and with the keys being nowhere in sight, Lex retrieved some rope from his bag and tied the two cutthroats together, securing their hands behind their backs and making two connected loops around each one's neck. Judging by his nonchalant approach, he found nothing particularly jarring about restraining these two in public. As he completed the neck-bindings, which were admittedly somewhat tricky, some chatter caught his attention, mainly the tavernmaster dispensing orders, apparently at the rest of the inn's guests and after that... An offer for a drink? It seemed like the feline and the halfbreed had taken initiative, if the mention of his recent struggles was any indication. Yet, he noticed that mere moments later, the tiefling had procured keys to their rooms. Seeing the elf and Arthera withdraw, he briefly gave Araerys a vacant look before dragging the two bound thugs to the nearest room, leaving his mug where it lay.

Moments later, the sound of Lex's slow, thumping steps grew louder as he approached the counter, his hammer still firmly in hand. He took a moment to consider his surroundings and slowly took a seat on a stool close to the other two, with highly ungraceful movements that made it seem as if the man was quite unaccustomed to the current situation. Grabbing the mug, he examined it for a second and took a long, drawn-out swig, before addressing Yvah. "Nearly died." he said while staring at the opposing wall, having recalled the statement she made not too long ago. His monotone voice made it hard to tell, but it seemed like a crude attempt at jesting. Twisting on his stool with a clatter, he peered around the room once more, inspecting the numerous patrons, and shortly thereafter returned to his drink, downing another mouthful effortlessly.

The party separated into their two rooms, the prisoners kept with Lex and Ulor, tossed in a heap on the floor. Despite it being around noontime, the exertion of the previous battle was enough to send everyone straight to slumber. No one heard when the mystic woman slipped out the doors, nor when the prisoners loosed their poorly-tied bonds and disappeared into the city streets.

The evening approached, and the group awoke as the tavern began to increase in volume, the late supper crowd filling its tables. Meditations and prayers were had, spells were prepared, and the group set out on their way, feeling fully rested, if not a bit perturbed at their fewer numbers.

Following Yvah and Ary through the streets, the group had an opportunity to explain the circumstances to their new party member in whatever detail they felt sufficient. They approached the address provided, but the doors were shut and the lights were low. Perhaps this was the wrong place? The cathedral loomed before them, seemingly nondescript on the outside without as much as a holy symbol on the door. As they stood in front of the building, quiet chantong could be heard from within, proving that it was not as empty as it first swemed.

Daisy was too uneasy to sleep. She had someone ruining her playtime by wanting to kill people. Thankfully, the rest of the group had the good sense to keep them alive to play another day. Before she could even watch them run off and enjoy their freedom before the group would inevitably run into them again, Daisy had the opportunity to watch the largest source of her consternation leave like the group had had a horrendous one night stand. Which she was sure the rest of the group had had before, obviously. Especially Ulor. Okay, so no one in the group had probably experienced that but the new girl. She'd worry about her later, though.

Once she'd adequately rested (if one can call 8 hours of listening to gossip "rest"...well, she could. She was sure she wasn't the only one), Daisy took a moment of her time to regale the nearest relatively attractive tiefling of either sex with a seductive song -- what she expected to be seductive for this crowd, anyway -- about the group's exploits earlier in the day, referring to them as "the Daisy Chain" since "as you can probably tell, I'm the leader. Francisca do Melithet re Narikonis mi Vas Qilaashelrii fa Predzi so Soriel la Blackheart, but beautiful people like you can call me Daisy. But I've spent enough time with these rough and manly types down here. I've got a delicate flower upstairs, and I need to see if I'm any closer to getting into those petals today. Wood elves, amirite?"

(Mentioned: @Mistiel)

Combo post with @corneredbliss

---

All too absentminded at this point, Yvah had not thought to check the boards before trotting off their rooms. Perhaps it was the aching wound she just recovered from, or it was the drinks swirling through her head in a haze. One more pint of the stuff and Yvah would’ve been too far gone to find the room pointed out to her. And while it would’ve been entertaining to all to see just how terribly she handled her intoxicants, she felt it was best to leave it and fall face-first into bed.

The feline moved up into the second level of the inn and the half-elf followed behind, already being lulled into relaxation by the ale. In her exhaustion, her feet moved of their own accord into the room, and almost in a daze she made sure to wrap her wounds before anything else, not wanting to stain the sheets with blood and have a whole fuss about it when they woke. When it was finished, the lure of sleep was getting to be too much, and Araerys relieved herself of her belongings, depositing them onto the floor beside the vacant bed: fiddle, pack, kick off the boots, sink into the cushion - Ahhh. Almost immediately she fell into slumber, only vaguely aware of the cat somewhere near her.

Yvah’s senses came back to her in meditation. Lively conversations echoed through the halls, one of which sounded like the sleepless flower she had come to enjoy. This contrasted the relative silence in the room, as her bunkmate was quick to bandage up and Yvah herself was quick to fall unconscious. Her awareness grew keen in her meditation like a whetstone for the senses. When they had grown sharp enough that she could feel the inner power being drawn from her breath, she darted suddenly from her rest. She sprang up in little, jaunty steps, suddenly filled with life and vigor.

Eventually, Araerys woke feeling refreshed and in a similar, albeit slightly less springy, fashion to Yvah’s, gathered her things and followed the cat back down to the bar to wait for the rest of their party to arrive before setting the lead. Both of them knew their way around town as intimately as one would prowling or carousing in the streets for most of their lives. They did not take the party through only the main roads, instead veering off into sidepaths and shortcuts. Both for the sake of saving time and to move through the city rarely seen. During the trip, Yvah did her best to make Ary feel welcome and to bring her up to speed on the party’s current mission.

“And there were all these shambling fish people and one big shark ogre thing that smashed his way through a crowd of them to get to us,” she explained, “There was a big, spooky castle out in the middle of the bay,” she continued, “Arthera gave the letter to the guard. It was a lot more convincing than the imaginary paper,” she snickered, “We were walking over to this address and then we heard this big commotion. And then you ran right into us!”

Being one that was absolutely tickled by stories, Araerys listened with rapt attention as Yvah recounted their journey to Bourgund thus far. She enjoyed the girl’s enthusiasm and was more than happy to be included in this new adventure, despite the troubles she’d put them through in the first few minutes of meeting her. Admittedly, she still wasn’t sure of the rest of the group’s sentiments towards her, and realized with a little jolt that introductions still hadn’t been properly made. With a slightly lowered voice, simply so as not to be rude, she leaned into her companion and said, “Huh, in my hurry to sleep I seem to have forgotten to introduce myself... Do you think it the right time to-”

Quickly, Yvah turned heel to face her team mates, likely halting them with a jolt and a couple bumped shoulders. “This is Araerys!” she yelled into the alley, “We’re calling her Ary, say hallo!” She turned to her bardic companion with a dumb, misunderstanding grin.

The half-breed blinked in confusion at the abrupt - and rather loud - presentation. It had taken her completely by surprise, and left her with a reflection of the feline’s expression, only without the grin. Funny as it was, she wasn’t sure if that was the best way to go about it; but at least it was over with now. Ary let out a half-amused, half-embarrassed chuckle as she lifted a hand and wiggled her fingers a little in greeting. “Hello, all,” she sang in a similar tone, addressing whoever decided to acknowledge her or reciprocate the introduction with a nod of her head. When it was over, she took up her stride again, and when she leaned over to Yvah this time, she jokingly nudged the girl’s bicep with her elbow. “You and your cheek will get me in trouble one day, I already know it,” she grumbled, though she flashed a cheerful smile, with an air as if the two had been friends for ages.

They were nearing the church, and it occurred to Araerys that they hadn’t discussed the strategy for whatever it was they were supposed to be doing there. Or if they had, she wasn’t in on it, and for the sake of safety, it was probably good that they all be on the same page. This wasn’t her adventure directly, and would have hated to step on anyone’s toes so soon after doing so a first time; so out of her own curiosity, she glanced back at the group over her shoulder and addressed them all once more. “So. Once at the church, what’s your plan?”

They rounded one more corner, and the church stood over them all in full view, as imposing and grandiose as any cathedral was. Yvah placed her hands at her hips, standing still in a wide stance, and scrunched up her face in a contemplative manner. “They sound busy and loud. And you two look quick and quiet,” she motioned toward to both elves, “Wanna sneak in? Could split off and look for a side entrance, then regroup and all waltz in there.”

Ary nodded her head in agreement, thinking it probably the best way anyway. She looked toward Ceria and waited for her response, as well as the rest of the group’s.

[Mentioned @Mistiel]

Ceria took one look at the daunting cathedral with the ominous chanting coming from within and nodded confidently. Yesterday she had slept like the dead for ten hours straight and had more energy than she had thought possible. It was mildly surprising how she had been able to instantly fall asleep over the yapping of loud, usually feminine, voices from downstairs. "Sure! I'll go first, you hang back here." She attempted to enter the building through the front door as inconspicuous and quietly as possible.

Once the all too tiresome business of obtaining chamber keys from the garrulous tiefling, who, while eager to familiarise with the party's cat-like guide, apparently had enough good sense left in him not to defer it any further, had finally been brought to overdue completion, Ulor followed Talionis and his load into one of the inn's dusty, but surprisingly spacious rooms. It would be well for him not to stray far from their captives, seeing as none of the others seemed to be equally aware of the value of the secret knowledge this wrinkled wretch doubtless held. If not else, the warrior could be relied upon to keep watch over them out of his ingrained sense of duty, and besides, he was probably the one it was currently safest to rest in the same room with, if previous observations were of any indication.

As the scoundrels were roughly deposited in a corner, he stooped down to examine them, or, rather, the less well-preserved of the two from close by. A curious creature indeed. Just as he did not seem to have ever heard of anything similar to what it had conjured, so he could not recall having at any time come upon mentions of such a being. It was a wonder that it should have been able to run as briskly as it did, considering its apparent age. But, surely, all would become clear once it would reveal its nature. Concerning which matter... Ulor whispered the elder words of a brief incantation, repeatedly passing his hand over the prisoner's head. For an instant, bright sparks crackled over the parched grey skin, faint hints of a strange smell hovering in the air. Distasteful though many would have considered their methods, the inquisitions of the Order were known to be often effective, and it was surprising how many things a novice could see before his probation was over. It was singular what the mere sight of flames could wreak in a bound prisoner in certain circumstances, and Ulor saw with some satisfaction that such tools as necessary were well within his reach.

He was therefore all the more irritated when, upon awakening hours later, he discovered that the villains had made their escape. In hindsight, those knots had seemed suspiciously loose, but, for all he had known, they might have been supposed to look like that. Bothersome it was that the answer to that troubling mystery should have eluded him, his personal vicinity notwithstanding. The matter was not improved by the slight headache which followed having slept without the Octopus's mental link. He truly should hasten with the summoning - it would not grow any worse than this, but it was of little relief against the nuisance. Well, if not else the more tangible pangs in his shoulder had subsided as a result of the somewhat crude bandaging he had applied to it, and the strength of his spellwork was renewed. Whatever challenges the rest of the day had to offer, he was ready.

On their way to the cathedral where the rite promised by the doomsayer was to take place, the feline was spontaneously struck by the idea to introduce the cause of the previous scuffle, who for some reason continued to follow, or rather lead them about (where had the other one gone, now that he thought of it?). All things considered, it might have been practical to exchange names at this point. "Ulor. That will suffice." he hoarsely replied, focusing his gaze on the halfbreed for the moment it took him to speak it; after which it wandered off again, now drawn by the temple's uncharacteristically featureless entrance. Strange. Either this was not established as the place of worship of any single cult, or else... Ah, something was underway after all, judging by the sounds that could be heard from within.

For a moment, Ulor considered simply walking trough the front door and attempting to pass for an adherent. However, he checked himself upon considering those within might have taken measures just to prevent such an infiltration. It was besides just as well that some of the others had taken initiative in beginning to more subtly creep into the building. "Yes, you go forth and see what there is." he nodded at the inquiry, "Then the bulk of us shall follow."

Araerys's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the elven girl heading straight toward the front door and, not wanting her to march right into the void without some sort of support, pointed in her direction. "Uhhh... I'll go have a look with Ceria," she murmured hurriedly to the rest of the group, and to Yvah, she added, "Go on along the sides. We'll meet you inside. Give us a holler if we're needed."

With a final nod to them all, she strode up to the doors and slipped through them, coming to a stop beside Ceria just inside of the threshold. The church was large, but was only occupied by a few bodies so far, including theirs. The strangers were at the very front of the room, near the alter, and had yet to notice their new guests. Not wanting to speak and call attention, Ary lightly nudged her companion's bicep with her elbow and pointed up at the front with a puzzled expression. From what Ary could see, there looked to be a few amphibious humanoids, an actual human, and a tiny red drake. All attention was being focused on the alter, but the woman wasn't yet able to make out what it was that was so important on it outside of the fact that it seemed to be some sort of statuette.

The room was filled with their chanting, and though Araerys couldn't understand the language, it sounded strangely familiar. Again, she glanced at Ceria, unsure of what the next move would be. While she normally would have sauntered up to the party ahead of them and pretended to be some mother in distress looking for solace in a church, she thought it best to sit tight and wait for further instructions now that there was a whole group to think about.

[Mentioned: @Mistiel]

Ceria took a quick step backward as her head craned up and up and up. "Wow," she mouthed inaudibly, taking in the incredible vaulted ceiling done in a Gothic architecture - though Ceria didn't particularly care or know about architecture, she had a couple bits of random "useless knowledge" from her far traveled adventures. As she stepped back, she felt someone touch her arm. "Daisy I swear to any gods above, if you don't stop touching me...!" she hissed in a whisper, whirling on the assailant. Ceria blinked when she realized it was just the half-elf and her expression softened considerably.

"Oh sorry," she muttered, blushing crimson and momentarily looking down. After shaking her head clear once more, she followed Araerys's gaze up toward the altar. Ceria ducked and skittered over behind one of the rearmost pews, to the right of the main aisle. She peeked over the top, looking very much like part ninja or a short curious kiddo....if said kiddo had a near-perfectly formed, graceful nose and a lethal bow strapped to their back. Yes, ninja was definitely the better way to describe her current state.

Suddenly it struck her: they were chanting in Sahuagin, and somehow Araerys knew that she would be able to understand what they were saying if they could just get closer into range-

"Daisy I swear to any gods above, if you don't stop touching me...!" Ceria's outburst, whispered or not, definitely disturbed the silence in the echoey space. Once again taken by surprise at her wildly nonchalant actions, Araerys's eyes widened at her as they did when the girl darted off towards the front door, before snapping back towards the front of the church. She supposed the nudge would've jolted anyone in such a quiet space, but the reaction was not fit for the situation. This was not to plan, but there was nothing they could do to rewind the moment.

Quickly, Araerys followed the elf down behind the pew, and when she peeked her head above their cover, Ary promptly grabbed her arm gently - but firmly - and pulled her back down, holding a finger to her lips with a stern expression. They needed to get closer, but she was worried that Ceria's whisper might have disrupted events enough that they would come investigating. They might already be glancing this way, and Ceria's head popping out from the pew was not going to help things. She released her companion's arm and made sure to emphasize the finger to her lips before returning her attention to the company at the front, straining her ears to hear if they had perhaps left their posts to have a look, or simply continued on with their ritual.

It was not long before Lex decided to withdraw for a time. Leaving a nearly finished cup back, he sluggishly moved into the room in which he had left the tied prisoners, barely even noticing Ulor's presence. He sat with a heavy thump upon the nearest bed, and, for the first time in recent memory, removed his armor, revealing simple and heavily worn britches and a short, equally ragged tunic underneath. Still seated and with his hammer in hand, he stood guard, ensuring the two thugs would not wake up or attempt to loosen their restraints. But, it seemed that as time went on, a heavy weariness finally took over, possibly the accumulated strain from their encounter at the damned village had finally brought the paladin low. His heavy-eyed glare began to fail, as Lex nodded off and prodded himself back to awareness. Finally, at his last few waking, albeit delirious moments, his tired mind perceived -or so it thought- an uncanny sight. A flaming sigil hovered inches away from one of the miscreants' head, yet, to the paladin's perplexity, it was mighty familiar. Too far gone to discern if such a sight was dream or reality, he leaned on his hammer and fell asleep to the smell of burning skin.

And when he awoke, the two were gone. Bolting upright, his expression darkened, his fingers clenched, and a vague snarl escaped him. The rest of his stay in the Kobold was spent frozen in front the loose bindings that held the brigands together. Thankfully, the paladin did not have enough time to dwell on the matter, as it appeared that it was the time for the group to move.

The walk towards the cathedral had barely calmed the man down, if his constantly shaking fist was to be taken as evidence. Only when Yvah introduced the halfbreed giddily did Lex snap out of his contemplation and once again paid heed to his surroundings. A stony nod of acknowledgement was offered at the new addition, and Lex carried on his march. When the party finally found themselves before the cathedral's immense facade, it was decided that some reconnaissance was in order. Although somewhat hazardous, potential insight on what went on inside could be needed, and if an attack was to take place, only a half-open door separated whatever adversaries dwelling within from Lex's hammer. And so, while the more stealthy were inspecting the cathedral from inside, Lex's eyes sparked with the light of heated metal, carefully examining the building's exterior for any signs of malignant tampering.

The cathedral was larger than the group had expected. The nondescript building loomed before them in the evening sky, its architecture imposing against the starlit backdrop. As Ceria and Ary entered the front door in silence, the sahuagin ahead did not seem to notice. There were two fish-like women chanting at the altar, their song in hushed tones and in a language the group didn't know, but somehow sounded familiar. A man dressed in combat gear leaned lazily against a pillar, seemingly bored with the goings-on, and behind him rested a tiny scarlet-colored drake curled up on the dais, intently watching the progress at the altar.

The two allies sneaked forward, but at Ceria's harsh whisper, the chanting halted for a moment. "ЩНАГ ИФІꙀѮ ІИГѮRRЧРГꙀ ФЧR ЩФRꙀНІР?" the first voice sounded, resonating with the sounds of the foreign tongue. Somehow, the words seemed understandable to those who listened despite the language being foreign. The sahuagin motioned to the human who leaned against the pillar, pointing towards the back of the hall. With a sigh, the man stood up from the pillar and began to approach, scanning the area for intruders. It's only a matter of time before he reaches Ary and Ceria.

What do you do?

Ceria silently bit back a curse as a man she hadn't noticed before walked back from the altar at the command of the two watery ladies. Not checking to see if Araerys would follow her lead, the elf mentally reminded herself that even though the dark spots to her right looked bright as daylight to her, that the human approaching them would have considerably more trouble. Unless he was adept at this sort of thing, which Ceria immediately brushed that unpleasant thought from her mind and focused on the task at hand.

Creeping out of the pew and into the side aisle, the elf soft-footed it in a half-crouch up to the nearest, darkened pew available. Once behind the raised panel making up the end of the pew, Ceria decided it would be best to lie prone and tuck her arms and legs in straight rather than risk any part of her body peeking out on either side of the pew. She belatedly realized Araerys had virtually no room to hide except lay right on top of her belly to back. Gritting her teeth, she (the full-blooded elf) steeled herself both physically and mentally to remain still and quiet.

A perfect representation of Yvah's thoughts was emoted with her just her hand as Ceria darted off on her own toward the church. Instinctively, her hand outstretched forward, as if to catch the elf by the scruff. Yvah's mouth opened as her fingers curled, her index finger pointed out in an ignored interjection. That, too, begrudgingly retracted as Yvah stood there for a moment of pause. Her wrist spun around and her thumb extended upward in belated, conflicted approval, the cheery facade returning once control of the situation had been fully taken from her.

Shrugging off the abrupt change of plan, Yvah pressed on alone. In a fluid motion, Yvah stepped into the dim light of night and shifted into a four-legged prowl. Her shoulders seemed to stretch backward to accommodate for the stance, tail outstretched and swaying with her stride. Quickly and carefully, she skulked by the leftside wall of the cathedral. About halfway alongside it, she arched upward, her head darting up to view the nearby window. A candle, but nothing of note. She pulled her head low again and moved below the view of the windows.

A corner was turned. Nobody around. Yvah effortlessly hopped over the railing to the veranda at the backside corner of the church. Her eyes and ears darted to her left, where a stone gazebo lay. Nobody. To her right was another window, through which she peered quickly. Past it lay a study of sorts, with nobody inside. Ahead of her and to the right was a backdoor to the study and beyond that the wall swelled in a semicircular shape that blocked her vision into the other side of the building. As time fell upon her, her companions chances for danger increased. Yvah had no time to dally.

Slipping in front of the doorframe, Yvah pressed her palm into the knob, but failed to turn it. It hitched against a lock with a dull click. Her hand slipped into the billowing folds of her clothing to pull some fine metal tools from a small, cylindrical pack strapped to the small of her back. She put them to the lock, where their movements served to cause some noise despite her best efforts. A moment of metal grinding against metal was followed by a sharp click. The tools were threaded back into their home as Yvah pulled the door open. The thin sheen of yellow light slipping past the cracks widened into her narrow gaze as she peered through the opening doorway.

Not even a minute after she'd told Ceria to keep quiet, the girl proceeded to move from beside her. It was with great willpower that she didn't immediately burst with frustration. Araerys didn't have to wonder too long what she had in mind, and soon watched (with wild levels of incomprehension) as the full blood moved to the side of their pew and lay down on her stomach, like a plank of wood.

Ary had to force herself out of blinking stupidly at the girl; she had to do something to distract the approaching human - and quickly. She crept towards Ceria, just close enough that she would be able to keep an eye on her, before using both hands to make a few forceful gestures.

Immediately, from the left-most side and the furthest pew to the front of the church, came a scuffling noise, as if footsteps were creeping somewhere along over there. The desired effect was to have him think the two of them were on the other side of the church - far enough from their current position to give them time to sneak away or, if they were lucky, have them think the noises were a result of the wind.

The elf Daisy had an appreciation for seemed to be drawing attention to herself with her noises, and that would certainly not do for the sylvan being, especially since the ranger would be for her eyes only eventually, bound to her through music and dance, and through oaths to her patron and other archfey. But for now...the best she could do was get the heathen away from her, which she could do with but a thought.

She looked at the man, then where her forest flower had been hiding, then back to the man. She thought of the sound of scuffling clothes and shoes, and projected it into his mind, coming from the opposite direction as the two fey-descendants and moving farther to the (whatever direction left on the map is. West?)

Sounds emanated from all around the cathedral, echoing in the mind of the thuggish human and in reality as well. "ꙀРLIГ ЧР!" cried the sahuagin who seemed in charge, and immediately, each of the four aisles had one of the people patrolling it. The drake soared into the air in the cathedral ceiling scanning the far right aisle, while the priestess and her acolyte took the rightmost two aisles.

"Door's ajar!" the thug called out as he rushed past the aisles. "Someone's in here! Stay alert!"

"An elf cowers over here," called the drake, its voice like what one would expect a flickering candle to sound like. "Spies are not welcome in our house!"

19. Ary - @corneredbliss
17. Daisy - @Ermine
16. Drake - flying
15. Ulor - @Oraculum
15. Acolyte - no armor
13. Ceria - @Mistiel
12. Lex - @Turbowraith
11. Thug - leather armor
5. Priestess - no armor
4. Yvah - @Ms Ravenwinter

And because everything that could possibly go wrong should and must go wrong, the company in the church began their search party through the aisles. A sinking feeling plopped itself in the pit of Araerys's stomach as the drake soon found Ceria, prone and completely vulnerable beside the pew. By some miracle, the human had completely slipped past her, so she was safe, for the moment. She knew she needed to do something to help the elven girl, but not wanting a repeat of their last combat so soon, she wasn't too keen on attacking it right away. Additionally, there was a burning curiosity to find out what it was that they were chanting at on the altar.

Caught in a moment of split decision, Ary followed her initial instinct and repeated the hand gestures she employed only moments ago. By her will, a distracting pop! resounded from just behind the drake, hopefully making him jolt and look away, even if only for a few moments. It should be enough of a distraction to give Ceria time to react, and enough cover for her to sneak further up the aisle. She didn't wait to see it's reaction, however, and immediately began to make her way towards the alter. She was careful to try and be as stealthy as possible, though in her curiosity and spiked adrenaline, she wasn't really sure how loud she was being.

Daisy was left with no choice when Ceria's location was announced, but also unable to reach the drake. She'd have to dispatch the thug in her way first. It wouldn't be easy, she was sure. But it would keep at least one of them off of her, and the elf would be just as good against the drake as she herself would, if not better. But now wasn't the time for words like she'd planned.

First, she locked her eyes on the thug and spat on the ground as she chanted rhythmically and conducted an invisible orchestra with her wand. In the remaining moment, she flung open the door and loosed a bolt from her crossbow at the man. Unfortunately, doors are heavy, and moving one while firing a crossbow is a bit of a hindrance to aim.

As Ary snuck around the pew, she accidentally bumped into the corner, causing a loud scuffing sound of her own as the pew scraped along the ground. The thug turned around just in time to see her scamper off, and swung his mace towards her, but it smashed into the wooden pew, causing splinters to go flying. His movement was just enough for Daisy's crossbow bolt to completely miss him, embedding itself into the wall on the far side.

The drake, still focused on the elf before him, dove down and struck her with his tail, then whipped around to bite her, both attacks easily finding their mark on the prone ranger. It then darted away, back up into the air towards the open doors. "Don't let them get away!" it cried out to its allies.

>Mechanics: The thug uses his Attack of Opportunity on Ary, but misses. Ceria takes 8 piercing damage and 5 fire damage from the bite, as well as 6 piercing damage from the tail. She must make a CON save, which she passes with an 18 for no effect.

>Mentioned: @corneredbliss, @Mistiel

>Next: @Oraculum

Not long had passed since half of the party had quietly - at least, such had been their intent - crept its way into the great building, and already the sounds of a commotion were heard from within its walls. Briefly shaking his head, Ulor muttered under his breath something about "inexperience", or perhaps "incompetence" or even "indifference"; by all accounts, something beginning with "in" and ending in "ence". It was certainly less intelligible than the final words of his muffled appraisal, which were distinctively "these people". What exactly these people were doing was unclear, considering he did not have even the narrowest view of the interior from his angle, but clearly the infiltration had not been as subtle as it should have.

This was further confirmed when the green imp swung open the cathedral door, hurling a curse and an arrow in sequence at something behind it. Now that the wooden panels between Ulor and the space within were gone, he could see a section of its inner recesses (rather well-furnished, from what could be observed) and a winged reptilian creature hovering inside. A drake in a city temple? This was surely growing progressively more odd.

However, his present position was still not such as to allow him to properly see what else there was inside the temple. With a step, he brought himself within the extension of the doorframe, even as he produced the crystalline orb from his backpack. In faith, he had expected the cathedral to host a rather large gathering in occasion of the supposed ritual, but, considering there appeared to have been no more than three people and the drake present, such was apparently not the case.

Whatever their numbers, though, the cultists' belligerence at the intrusion was not diminished in the least, if the creature's hollow growling was any proof. As such, it were best to expediently reduce them to a harmless condition. Ulor's voice rose in a rhythmic guttural chant, dread arcane formulae humming in the evening air, while his right hand oscillated in keeping with its time. Diaphanous angular shadows coiled around the drake, and a bolt of wraith-fire sprang to crackling life from his fingers, blazing towards the blur of crimson scales.