Orc Cave

Zenithral tries to embrace his mother. He wished he could heal her tie to Ilmater and her decrepit wings. Was their state the effect of continued unbelief, or the cause of her inability to commune with Ilmater as a child? He decided it didn't matter. What mattered was that she be now free.

(Cure Wounds. She regains 4 hp)

He prepares himself for blackness.

HP 2/105

Zenithral trembles and smiles inside. You wonderful, wild woman. Every inch of him wanted to turn and sprint away. But no...he had to keep helping his mother endure.

(Cure Wounds. Ilmadia regains 6 hp)

HP 14 / 105

Alalla watches, waiting for the next pulse. When the light doesn't build again she sprints over to Halla, praying Erevain is trussed up securely enough. She bends down and puts a hand over the woman's heart.

Torm, reward her bravery. Colour returns to Halla's cheeks and she stirs, but Al doesn't wait to help her get up. She quickly enters the cave, heart in her throat. Come on, you madman of a half-elf...

Al uses Lay on Hands and heals Halla 5 points. She is ready to do the same for Zenithral and Ilmadia.

Alalla stops and stares for a brief moment, but Ilmadia's worried eyes brings her attention back to her friend.

She kneels, giving Ilmadia an appraising look, then takes Zenithral's hand. "Aid your friend's servant, lord," she murmurs. A soft glow, almost completely insignificant compared to the blinding lights shining earlier, flows around their hands, and Zenithral's breathing becomes deeper and steadier.

Zen gains 5hp through Lay on Hands.

Zenithral coughs and his eyes flicker open, dazed. "We're not dead, are we?" Zenithral asks Ilmadia, seeing the spectacle around them. Realizing he probably wouldn't be in so much pain if he were, he sighs. "Mmmm..dang it..." Then he laughs and tries to push himself to his feet, stumbling over to give Halla a warm embrace, regardless of how idiotic she thinks he is.

He then turns back to Ilmadia, appraising her to see if he can see her wings or thread. "I assume it's finished? How...do you feel?"

Now that Zenithral's vision has returned to normal and most of the radiance dissipated, there is no sign of wings or tether. "I don't think I am going to try to move for a while, but..." Ilmadia looks exhausted and on the edge of passing out herself, but still she smiles. Though she has always had genuine smiles for him, Zenithral doesn't think he has ever seen his mother's face so bright. "I feel free."

Ilmadia tucks white hair behind her pointed ear and beams at Zenithral, her eyes full of relief, pride, and gratitude. "You shouldn't have stayed, but... I wouldn't have been able to endure it alone. And not just because of your magic."

Zenithral nods, pure joy filling his heart. THIS is what he was meant to do. Not only had he helped deal a major blow to Belfiet, but he had also helped save his mother. Now he just hoped it would be enough.

He turns to Alalla. "I think we're going to need some rest as well..." he tells her, gesturing to Halla and himself. "I hope my foolhearty behavior wasn't too out of line this time, but I consider this a won battle."

"I'm still not sure what 'this' was, but I'm inclined to trust your judgement." Alalla puts a hand on her hip and looks between the two half-elves, smiling slightly in spite of herself. They both look so happy. She wipes it away. Her husband is still tied up outside. "So? Where do we stand? Where do we go from here?"

Halla puts a weary hand to her head. "I will be fine." The words are short and clipped. "’Tis nothing an hour’s rest cannot fix. I am more concerned about what or who else might have noticed... whatever just happened. That kind of power is bound to draw attention."

Ilmadia gasps quietly as her father embraces her, and then smiles weakly with awkward reciprocation. Decades of wounds did not heal in that flash of light, but they have begun to.

After a brief moment she clears her throat and extricates herself politely. She carefully examines the people that have gathered. Many had been ready to murder each other not too long ago.

"If he cannot be convinced to escape, then I stand with my son," Ilmadia says in response to Alalla's question. "I don't know what power or skill, if any, I have left, but I will use all of it however he asks, and I will tell you what I know.

Shall I begin now? I do agree with my daughter-in-law about this drawing attention, but we will need rest before we can continue." She clasps pale hands together tightly. "I... also want to stay here for as long as I can. Maybe Isair and Madae will return."

Outside the cave, Erevain summons Alalla’s glaive to his bound hands and manages to slice the bindings at his feet. With a whistle on his lips, he begins work on freeing his hands.

Al leans on her glaive. "Well I-" The weapon vanishes, and Alalla falls to the side with a guttural orcish curse. She catches herself from eating cave glass just in time with some ungraceful scrabbling. "Just one moment," she growls, then marches outside muttering more curses.

Reaching Erevain just as his hand bindings fall free, Alalla seizes him by the armour at the back of his neck. She moves to tow the elf towards the cave.

Erevain laughs. "You may be stronger than me, sharuhk, but when we dance I should still be the one leading." He steps in front of her and takes one of her hands in his, then puts another around her waist and attempts to step into a waltz. Alalla’s unyielding stature and deadly glare make him pause. "You’re right! This is no time to dance. Demons could come spilling out of Easthaven at any moment. We should make haste!" He turns to leave.

Al grabs Erevain by his waist, and despite his squirming and struggling, manages to get him over her shoulder. His knees gripped tightly under one arm and his hands flailing uselessly behind her, Alalla hauls her husband to Ilmadia.

"Fix this," she demands.

"As you wish." Ilmadia delivers a full-handed slap to Erevain's rear, breaking the spell.

She gives the elf wearing her husband's armour a thorough look over as Alalla sets him down, a muscle working furiously in the dark woman's jaw. "Have your chains been broken, too?" she asks Erevain.