Dion Arc: Part 2 (6) Report

The next day, the party developed their plan: They would march north with their forces and fight their way to the Cathedral of Joren. Rudimentary perhaps, but simplicity has its value. This plan in mind, the party moved northward toward the docks and cathedral, inside the Grestosi controlled area. Keeping their eyes open after their previous run-ins with enemy troops, the party was able to spot figures taking position along the road heading north. They were the size of regular men, but looked different than other enemies they had fought, clad in armor and robes of a dark crimson, with emblems of fire and death upon their armor. They were, unmistakably, cultists of Dion, sent to the frontlines to destroy any wayward Astorian or Vestidian troops. Luckily, the party managed to get the jump on them, and were able to take position on the street in a shield wall.   Taking their position, the party waited for the battle to begin. Solomon also moved to the flanks among the building to replicate the strategy that worked so well against the Grestosi where casters would be stationed in the windows so that they may shoot down onto enemy troops. While he did this, the enemy caught sight of the party and began to advance down the street toward them. The foremost of the enemy troops were dressed in robes, with a crimson red breastplate as their most significant defense. They dashed forward, and in a great barrage launched four fireballs that grew larger as they passed through the air, one for each of the casters. They arced through the silent air as a comet may move through the night sky, and barreled down with arcane fury. The more heavily armed warriors of Dion came up just behind them to protect them.   The Astorian infantry did its best to move out of the way of the fire, but many of them were either trapped within the shield wall or too stunned by the fireballs to move in time. Crashing to the ground, the plumes of fire consumed seven or eight of the troops instantly, torching them to a point of being unrecognizable. The others were either not hit at all or managed to move out of the way of the worse of the fire. This includes some members of the party, who due to a mixture of Ravyn's counter spells and luck managed to survive the first bombardments with minimal damage. After the fire was launched, the cultist warriors charged forth. That was when the pain began. Ralof and Logen were both seriously wounded in the ensuing melee, and the Astorian soldiers suffered greatly. By the end of the fighting, over half their number had been lost. Ralof had been grievously wounded by a cultist who used a broken sword to stab deep into his chest. Despite, the damage an losses, the party was victorious.   The victory of the party in this battle unfortunately did not set them on the path to defeating Hrodvaldr and the Grestosi. Lieutenant Hyatt and his Astorians had only 18 men left under his command, hardly enough to defend a position, and certainly not enough to take one. Ralof, Logen, and Ravyn were all so spent that moving forward would be suicide. They had to form a plan, one that used their minds rather than just charging headlong at the problem with swords drawn. Using the gauntlets of Sinestra, the party hoped to disguise themselves as cultists and sneak into the Cathedral and assassinate King Othger and Hrodvaldr without much resistance. Luckily for them, Ectival was able to successfully assist in this task, making their chances that much greater.   Moving north, the party managed to talk its way through the cultists who were defending the streets and barricades, and looting the city for all it was worth. It was a dangerous task, since detection would have meant certain death. They managed to weed out some information while they were talking their way through the lines, namely that Lord Hrodvaldr and King Othger were still present at the Cathedral of Joren. That in turn meant that the artifact was still in the city.   After a good bit of walking the party broke out of the thick tangle of city streets and into the cathedral plaza. Once it would have been one of the most beautiful spots in Varikon, where people would meet and chat near the fountains, speakers would enthrall the masses with their debates and sermons, and the religious services would pour out from the valuing church itself. Now it is merely a shadow of its former glory. Grestosi warriors and cultists of Dion make their camps throughout the plaza, leaving piles of broken and burned goods behind, and even greater mounds of goods meant to be taken back to Grestovich. The Cathedral of Joren stood in the center of the plaza, towering over the buildings that ringed around it. It's walls stand more than twenty strides high, and its buttresses flare out like many stone arms, and it was crowned by a smooth, rounded roof, like bread rising in a pan. Padding their way forward, the party slipped into the open doors of the cathedral, weary of anything that might give them away.   Inside the building was in rough shape, though better than the rest of the city around it. The pews and chairs, once holding hundreds of Lysander's faithful, now lay in broken piles and stacks along the walls. The treasures of the church, and many there are, were set in the middle of the room so they could be loaded onto the boats and sent back to Grestovich to enrich their king. Overseeing this was King Othger and Lord Hrodvaldr, prophet of Dion. The former was dressed in mail with a tabard of white and light blue emblazoned with the bear paw and sword of Grestovich. His head rested lazily on his hand, causing his billowing moustache to flop down over his hand, he is otherwise bald and crowned with the ancient crown of Agmundr. The latter is towering man, standing at over seven feet tall, and encased in dark crimson plate armor. It is slashed, dented, and blemished from years of use, but the sigil of the bear holding a sword is still visible amongst the chiseled plumes of fire. He wear a dark fur cloak, wild and ragged, matching perfectly with his hair and beard which are both wild and ragged in equal measure.   As the party approached, it seems as though the pair were in deep conversation. Only a few phrases could be made out from where they were standing, things such as 'the prisoners have spoken'; 'we know the location, and 'leave with haste'. Shortly after, Hrodvaldr turned and left the building, passing by the party on his way out. Intrigued, the party approached King Othger to attempt to learn what had been said. Due to his silver tongue, Solomon managed to draw out that the cultists of Dion had indeed learned the location of the artifact of Imzeral, after brutally torturing the followers they captured. They learned that Calder Thorne and the surviving cultists of Imzeral were still alive somewhere beneath the cathedral. Finally, they learned the reason as to why Othger and Hrodvaldr were in human form rather than bear form, that Dion had used his power to correct the magic that had cursed them some 2,000 years ago. It is very limited as to who can be cured, but the King and the prophet have the ability to switch between the forms of being a bear and being a man.   Frustrated in their attempt to gain the artifact of Dion by Hrodvaldr's sudden departure, the party was left only with their objective to save Calder Thorne and the other Imzeral cultists. To their knowledge, they were being kept in the catacombs beneath the cathedral, left alone with nothing but the dark for company. The party developed a plan of how to rescue them: They would pose as guards being sent down to collect the prisoners for execution. Once they got the prisoners they would lead them outside for supposed execution, then quickly slip away with them once they were out of danger. It was a solid plan, certainly one with more thought than just cutting their way to the cathedral to save them. With that they descended into the pitch darkness, so dark that Solomon had to use his minion, a cunning raccoon, to lead the way through the dark. Winding through the darkness they went, passing by the tombs of the long dead, subterranean chapels, and other places. It was in these dank recesses that the party found their most unfortunate query. Locked away among the ancient crypt, given light from only a single torch, were the emaciated forms of Calder Thorne and the few surviving followers. He explained that Hrodvaldr had been brutally torturing them, killing one of their number every time they refused to give him information until it became too much to handle. That is when he finally broke and relinquished the location of the artifact, which he had learned the location of through his research.   Emerging from the darkness the party reentered the cathedral, bringing the followers of Imzeral in tow. The king as well as the other guards believed their ruse that they were just dealing with the now useless prisoners, so they had little trouble making it back outside. Once free of any prying eyes, the party began to move northward towards the wharfs to make their escape, but unfortunately they were being followed. A cultist from the cathedral had been dispatched to make sure they properly did the job. Nonchalantly, the party continued with their task, moving to an alley in the wharf area to stage their execution. Ralof brought his sword back to strike down one of the cultists, but at the last moment turned about and cleaved right into the chest of the watching cultist, killing him instantly. That was seemingly the end of that problem. Once he had been dealt with, the party moved onto the docks and among the boats, attempting to find one that could bring them to safety. What was available was a small cargo vessel, which was less than ideal, but the most they could ask for at the time. Piling onto the boat, the party and surviving Imzeral followers finally had time to take a breath and make a plan.