Guionne reels from this attack, staggering forward to get away from the blackness. "You know nothing, mortal! Your time is coming! My master stands poised to take all reality under his thumb, once we win the artifact and bring Tiamat under our thumb. Without Bahamut to oppose us, it is only a matter of time until we defeat the dragon-goddess ourselves and ascend to the top of the order! I..."



In a flurry of blazing brilliance, Martha utterly destroys Guionne, who explodes in a burst of brimstone smoke.

At this very moment, an army of angels appears on the horizon, lances of brilliant light striking the remaining devils. The assassin devils try to make a run for it but are hunted down by a batch of angels with true sight, piercing their veils of invisibility and smiting them.

The party recognizes the angel at the head of the army--it is none other than Mayaheine, exarch of Pelor, riding golden wings. She alights next to the party and nods at the soaked group.

"Greetings, agents of Bahamut. I see you have succeeded at your errand. Would you hear counsel from an ally?"

An army of thousands of angels creates a perimeter around the party; their faces smile benignly on the small group of rather powerful mortals.

Yep, you win.

"Undersell!? How rude! Its Underhill! I come from a long line of..." Of course, the wall goes down at that point and Gromley can see the hordes of angles and lack of devils. Not to mention a big blast mark when Guionne once stood. "...ah. Never mind then." He sighed, and quickly adjusted the pillows on his floating disk of force and waved at the more attractive female angels.

Zog's face breaks into a broad smile as Guionne dies and his wall of fire drops away. He moves over to Martha, smiling at her. "Very well done." He nods at Darratheir. "Very impressive indeed." He grins at Harald, Sonliin and Gromley, and finally walks over next to Agon. "A retinue worthy of your company, archmage. Very, very good."



Zog turns to Mayaheine and bows deeply. "Greetings, mighty paladin of old. It is an honor to meet you. We would be very pleased to hear your counsel, as long as it does not involve handing over a hard-won artifact to you. We have an errand on behalf of a dear friend and peer to your Lord that we would see done. If you mean to help us with that task, then we would be quite grateful."

"Darn!  Ah never really got a chance tae gie the big lad a goood batterin'."

Harald strolled over to join the others.

"Right!  Where's this Tiamat bitch then?"

With destruction of the horde of devils, Sonliin looked around at the legion of angels that showed up. "They never listen, do they?" he asked to the four winds shaking his head. Not seeing any new foes and things seem to be secured, he waved his hand over himself and looked like he had not seen any of the battle.

"Greetings Mayaheine, exarch of Pelor. I would hear counsel from an ally, more so if it involved a few drinks at the nearest tavern." he said "The fights lately have left us a bit parched."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:01, Tue 07 June 2016.

A thousand angels gasp. "Language!" several of them whisper.

---

Mayaheine acknowledges Zog and Sonliin. "Well met, Servant of Good of the Many Faces and Paladin of Blessed Ioun. Come, we will bear you to a place with rich drink."

And, true to their words, each of the party is offered to be borne aloft by four attractive angels of the opposite sex to proceed to Mayaheine's drinking hall.

Giving everyone else a chance to react.

Martha endures being carried by four young, hunky angels by scowling. Before the 'assault' (as she insists on describing the airborne trip) she had taken Darra aside. 'Keep the artefact close', she whispered. 'I do not trust these sunny smiling pretty things, any more than I trusted the horde of devils.'

The army of evil defeated, Darratheir didn't took the time to rest. He nodded to Zog in silence when he made a compliment and before the angles arrived, he shut a bit away from the rest of the group. He then set ablaze a small torch that he had first coated with a powder giving a black tint to the flame. Torch in one hand, he finally extinguished it with his other bare hand while muttering some words, the pain being a way to remind him many have suffered and many other will suffered again if he doesn't act against evil forces.

When Martha came to him, he had put the torch away in his bag but his hand was still painful. He nodded to the woman when she talked about the artifact. "Don't worry about that. I will let nobody get the Arrow. And the Arrow wouldn't allow me to do so anyway." He looked at the spear and back at Martha. "I don't know why but she chose me and now, we are linked together."

After that, he let the angels conduct him to the new place where they were awaited.

Harald glowered at the female angels carrying him.

" Ah'd hae preferred if ye had beards an' were a wee bit shorter" he grumped.  "Still, if ye are takin' me tae where Ah can get a drink, Ah'll let ye's aff."

Gromley enjoys the four ladies taking him away, although they do seem a bit...grabby. His glowing construct familiar Baldrick grumbles to itself, following along and dragging the floating disk with it via its telekinetic abilities.

Sonliin enjoyed the ride to the tavern. "Now that we are here, what do you propose?" he asked Mayaheine as he took a large drink of mead to take the taste of brimstone from his mouth.

The angels carrying Martha seem mildly amused by her discomfort, showing perhaps more sense of humor than one might have given them credit for.



The angels bearing Darratheir make no attempt whatsoever to touch the artifact. If anything, they seem inclined to stay away from it in mild awe.



The angels look at each other, and in an instant they all seem to have shrunk a foot and have beards. They beam beatifically at the dwarf.



This is, frankly, all in Gromley's imagination. Any odd grabbing probably comes from the angels' human-sized hands rather than any intent, as the angels are, frankly, uninterested in such matters. They are, after all, angels.



Mayaheine invites you in to a private room where you are given fantastic drinks. She recommends the mead, which is otherworldly, but the ale is also exceptional and the wine top-notch.

Once you have had a chance to recover, she nods. "We would aid you in bringing Bahamut back. My mistress and the other gods in conference with her are in agreement that you are pursuing a worthy line of work. To that end, we have been sent to fetch someone important."

She nods and the angels guarding the door bring in a familiar face--the angelic being Amyria who met you in Sigil earlier. Message 10 on this thread: link to a message in this game Amyria looks absolutely terrible, as if something were wearing her down, which is particularly disconcerting in an angel.

There is something strangely familiar in her eye....

Anyone trained in Arcana or Religion, make a roll along with your reaction(s) to the above.

'Oh my poor child!' Martha rushes forward and takes the poorly angel Amyria in her arms, all thought of her 'violation' by the heavenly hunks forgotten (thought frankly that was the four sherries).

'What are they doing to you! You need a holiday' she announces, irrate. 'This is no joke. You could do yourself real damage with all this divine stressing. Sit down here, beside me, and tell me all about it.'

Martha is really concerned for this poor angel, who had obviously not taken her advice to take better care of herself earlier. She has no intention of allowing more harm to come to this vulnerable creature. 'Get her a glass of water and plain rice cake' she orders the four divine adonises from earlier.

She looks deeply into her eyes, purring maternal soothing things and stroking her hair, trying to see what really troubles Amyria (rolled a 41 religion)

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
22:49, Today: Martha rolled 39 using 1d20+23 with rolls of 16.  Religion Check: what's up with Amyria.
22:50, Today: Martha rolled 2 using 1d6 with rolls of 2.  Memory of 1000 lifetimes.

---

Agon also refused to be impressed by the angelic transport.  The will of the gods had grown weak. They had not seen Tiamat's plot, and now in the aftermath they were letting enemy agents through their planar boundaries.  It was up to mortals to restore balance to the cosmos.  Agon's disgruntled torment was evident to others. He was a thundercloud in a robe and pointy hat.

He sipped at a small glass of mead. Some things were still the best in the cosmos, even now. When Amyria entered he studied her intently: something might be drawing off divine power from all over.

OOC: Arcana +51

Harald chuckled when the angels carrying him changed form.

"Aye!  That's mair like it, ma bonny freends."

Once in the tavern he bowed and politely said farewell to his bearers and turned his attention to the ale.

"Aaaah!"  He took a long draught, the foam gathering in his beard and a beatific smile spread across his rosy cheeks.

"Ah'll tell ye noo.  That wiz near as guid as the best dwarven ale ever."

There was a slight glint in his eye with hinted at perhaps a tiny exaggeration.

His look darkened when Amyria was brought in but he said nothing when Martha rushed to comfort the new arrival.

Sonliin looked closely at Amyria and seeing her features look even worse. "You stated that you has seen yourself "pierced through with an arrow of bone wrapped with sinew and flesh and adorned with burning runes," has those dreams changed now that the arrow has been recovered?" he asked, something coming to his mind. "I am not sure but could it be that Bahamut put some of his essence in you before he departed?"

---

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)

OOC:45 for religion, 36 for arcana
22:04, Today: Sonliin rolled 45 using 1d20+26 with rolls of 19.  religion.
22:03, Today: Sonliin rolled 36 using 1d20+26 with rolls of 10.  Arcana.

---

Darratheir appreciated that none of the angels seemed to show interest in the Arrow of Fate. It allowed him to rest a bit during the transportation but he nonetheless stood vigilant.

Once they arrived in the private room, he took a random drink that was served to him and he listened to Mayaheine, nodding in agreement from time to time. Then, when the other anger appeared, the Dragonborn seemed less concerned by the rest of the group as he hadn't met her earlier. He let his companions attend to her while emptying his drink. All the time, he would keep the Arrow of Fate firmly in one of his hand.

Zog had said nothing when borne by the angels; he had to admit that this was not a bad way to get around, though. The angels had a good balance of firm and gentle in their bearing, which was certainly not unpleasant.

He drank little at the tavern, concentrating more on weaving stories for the entertainment of the others and questions to their immortal hostess, the likes of whom he did not get to sup often, to say the least.

When Amyria is brought in, Zog springs up and moves over to Agon. "That look in her eye...Agon, analysis?"

Martha and Sonliin recognize the sure sign of a possession in Amyria. There are, contrary to superstitions, various kinds of possession, and this appears to be a benign one, where the being in question is quiescent in the host. Sonliin, for his part, is certain that a good being possesses Amyria, and a powerful one at that, though in an oddly weak way.

Agon, though, is learned beyond what ever most mortals could ever hope to be. He recognizes all this and makes a very important conclusion: a piece of Bahamut lives in Amyria.

As if to confirm this, the Arrow of Fate levitates itself out of Darratheir's holster and rotates itself, transforming back into an arrow. It swivels and points at Amyria, whose eyes go wide at seeing it. She staggers over to it and takes it in her hand. She collapses! A moment later, she recovers.

Amyria blinks and gasps and shudders. She pulls herself to her feet and looks at you. A moment passes before she says, “The visions are correct. Bahamut lives. Celestia. We . . . must . . . answers there.” She collapses once again.

'I think we should do an exorcism', Martha proposes, taking the Bone Arrow out of Amyria's unconscious hand and passing it back to Darratheir while carefully cradling her head and ensuring she is comfortable.

Agon has a thought on that.

"I am not sure about an exorcism at this time." Sonliin said "We do not want to destroy it so his spirit would need to flow into a willing host I would think. It is an area that I have not had to deal with, mostly the destroying part. Also, from her statement, it appears that we will need to take Amyria to the Plane of Celestia, first."

It made sense that the fragment of Bahamut would want to return to Celestia.  "It would take more magic than I have on hand to thwart the nature of the gods." Agon said. "To release the fragment here would be disastrous, the pattern binding what remains of Bahamut would be destroyed.  We should journey to Celestia, to find a place of power there. Mayaheine, do you know the fastest path?"

A Martha took the arrow to hand it to Darratheir, he nodded the head in return. He then stood ready to help if that was needed. If someone had to carry Amyria's unconscious body, he could do it with ease.

Mayaheine nods. "I agree with Sonliin and Agon. You should proceed in all haste to Celestia."

"We do have a teleportation circle linked to Celestia here in the capital. If you would proceed there and perform the ritual, Agon, we can get you on your way straightaway."

First, though, Mayaheine brings you all to an ancient place, a temple of Pelor where she offers you each a drink from a fountain there. Each of you feels amazingly restored. You each are considered to have taken an Extended Rest.

She then has you borne to the teleportation circle, where Agon is easily able to cast the ritual and port you all to Celestia...

Continued in Chapter 4!