She sighs, dusts herself off with prestidigitation, and casts dancing lights.

It's dirty and rocky, covered with debris. She can still hear the sounds of battle distantly from overhead; doesn't sound like it's going well for anyone. There's also the sound of voices coming from That Way, too quiet to make out the words.

She tries not to think too hard about the battle - she can't help anyone there. 

She'll move towards the sounds of voices, lights orbiting her head, trying to avoid making too much noise as she goes. (Her chest hurts, but she doesn't seem to be bleeding or anything, and if Heal couldn't fix it, she doesn't have any better plan than "hope it gets better".)

"All right, I - think -"

People! She picks up the pace a bit, calling out to them. "Hello?" 

She's a big paladin, Garundi, with fancy armor and the sunburst sword on her shield and on an amulet hanging from her belt. "Hey! Can you lend a hand! There's someone down there!" Beneath these rocks.

(Sunburst sword, that's... Iomedae, good.)

She hurries over to help! She has only average strength, but hopefully working together, they can figure something out.

It's not hard as long as you work together!

An injured woman. From her bow and leather armor she's an adventurer, and from the fact that she can, with great difficulty, still stand in spite of formerly being covered with rocks suggests she's not bad at being one. "Thanks for the help," Anevia says. "Get a cure, either of you? I think my leg's broken."

"Wish I did," Seelah says.

Oh that looks painful. She winces sympathetically.

"I have a wand for cure light, let me dig it out."

She removes her shortbow, digs into her pack, and pulls out her trusty healing stick. 

Cure Light Wounds!

That doesn't get all her health back, but it gets some. "Thanks. Anevia, with the Eagle Watch." She can put a bit more weight on her leg, at least.

"Seelah! Paladin of Iomedae."

She passes the wand to her off-hand to offer handshakes, smiling at them both. "I'm Venn, a song-sorceress from Absalom. A blessing to meet you both, though I wish it were under better circumstances."

"Don't we all. I was expecting to fight at the Wound, but not quite this fast!"

Absalom's a long way away, but you meet all kinds of people at the Wound.

(Venn will wait for one of them to ask about it instead of volunteering how she got here - she'd like to build rapport before making implausible claims, even if they are also true.)

She looks at Anevia's leg with some concern. "...how bad is it? I could spare another Cure."

"I'm fine as long as I don't get into hand-to-hand," Anevia says. "If I do and they're good, I'm dead. Do you know what's down here?"

Seelah shakes her head.

Venn shakes her head as well. "I haven't seen anything besides the two of you." 

"Let's take it slow and see what we run into? I have Grease, and a song to make hitting things easier." 

She slots her wand into her belt for easier access, just in case, and restraps her backpack.

"Got it. Well, goddess's favor and we'll be out soon." Seelah has a sword and shield and armor and is prepared to go first. "And I can get a smite in if we see a demon, but only once today."

"I can shoot," Anevia says, "though 'Beth's the real adventurer."

"I'll stick by Anevia; if anything comes for us, I'm alright with a rapier."

She draws her bow and nods at Seelah. "Lead the way, and let me know where you want my lights." 

"Not much of a leader," Seelah says, scratching her head. "Guess in front?" Then she squares her shoulders and starts moving. 

...fair enough! In that case, she'll see about directing the party by moving her lights out in the way she wants them to go. 

"So who's 'Beth?" she asks Anevia curiously, as they start walking.

"My wife." Anevia is Used To The Inevitable Response. "Irabeth. She's a paladin of Iomedae, too, up there." If she's still alive. (Anevia really, really hopes she's still alive. There's no one like her in all the world - priorities.)

(At the mention of "wife" she gets an approving smile and a nod - maybe it's not a big deal, wherever she's from?)

"Ah, that's twice as many Paladins of Iomedae as I've met in my whole life! Though of course she's much more popular around here than back home, or so I've heard..."

Venn is charming and great at pretending to be calm under pressure and is happy to keep making light conversation with the two of them until they run into something more pressing! She has to recast dancing lights every minute, but she can do that while walking just fine.

More pressing thing: Giant bugs!

When the centipede comes charging at Seelah she has her shield braced and out and it tries to bite through wood, and then she's whacking it with her sword, blade sometimes skittering off the carapace, sometimes finding a vulnerability.

She draws her bow, but before she notches her first arrow she starts singing, in a language neither Anevia and Seelah know.

The sound of her voice fills them both with supernatural courage and sureness, making it easier for them to strike true and strike hard. 

And guided by that song, Anevia puts two good arrows into it and it stops actively moving.

Seelah hits it a couple more times on reflex before she realizes it's dead, then throws the body back with a shove of her shield. 

"Whew! That sure was something."

Venn doesn't stop singing right away, but the magic fades out of the song as soon as the bug falls. She finishes the verse and then puts her bow down.

Then she claps her hands and smiles happily at them both. "And nobody got hurt! Good work, both of you."

"Nope! That's why I go first."

She nods happily.  

Time for more follow the dancing lights?

Yup! Hey, there's some voices -

- (A split-second calculation, a split second to think of a lie)

- "Come help! I think he's dying!" The voice is aristocratic and haughty, but with all the tension you'd expect with a dying man.

- Come on! Let's help!

Um!

She hurries behind Seelah, glancing back to make sure Anevia is okay. 

Anevia can catch up.

There's a dead elf on the ground, covered in blood - must've hit an artery - and a living half-elf standing over him. The survivor has a sword and chainmail and is almost as bloody, too, possibly because she's trying to keep pressure on one of the many wounds covering his body and it's really not working.

He looks mauled.

"I tried a cure, but I think he's gone," she says.

Venn rushes forward and then - stops, her stomach churning.

She doesn't really know much about healing, but she's not an idiot. There's blood everywhere, and the man isn't breathing. 

"What happened to him?" She doesn't bother trying to keep the horror out of her voice. It's not her first time seeing a dead body, of course but she's never seen a freshly-mauled corpse like this, and she is really not enjoying it.

"Demons," says the half-elf. "It must have been the demons who attacked him."

"Damn," Seelah says. She hasn't seen anything like this since she left Geb. Does she know any prayers that are right for this? "Inheritor, watch over this man's soul," she says. 

Venn knows a few things about demons! She crouches down, peering curiously at the wounds.

...she has no idea what kind of demon caused them. Welp.

She closes the corpse's eyes, murmurs a prayer to Shelyn, and turns to look at the half-elf.

"Thank you for trying to save him," she says, softly but earnestly.

"I did my best." Her heart's still beating fast. "We should be careful; the demons who did it might still be around."

"Right." Peer peer peer. "I'm Seelah, I'm a paladin."

"Anevia, with the Eagle Watch."

(...Huh.)

"I'm Venn, a song-sorceress. Honored to meet you, though of course I wish it could have been in better circumstances." 

(She will noooot offer to shake hands. On account of the blood.) 

"Camellia," she says. Now that the rush is fading she's returning to a purer aristocratic hauteur. "I speak with the spirits of Sarkoris." And I'm richer than you. "Can you Presdigitate?" 

(...Huh.)

She raises an eyebrow at that pronounced shift back into aristocratic tone. Is this really the time for that? 

"I can, yes! When the threat of demons is less imminent I would be happy to assist you."

She casts dancing lights and moves them out into the darkness.

Camellia sniffs. Clearly these people just don't know who's important.

...Venn is deeply confused by her priorities but will diplomatically move on from that, without commenting or giving anyone a weird look. 

She attempts to diffuse the mild awkwardness by changing the subject!

Does anyone in the group speak a sign language? (look, look, look around for demons)

The Eagle Watch has a simple one...

There are more giant bugs of various types. They kill them. Camellia turns out to be competent at stabbing things, even if she's disdainful of the bugs as being worth her time. 

There are not more demons, but it isn't that long before they find themselves in a new part of the caverns, one that looks somewhat less natural and more man-made, nor until they can hear the sounds of an argument.

(Venn mostly sings, in the fights; when she does get a chance to fire an arrow or two, it's clear she's nothing special with a bow.)

She peers curiously at the walls, pointing out the change to the others, and cups her ears when the argument becomes audible. 

"No, I won't just give up! It's got to be around there somewhere!" she can hear someone proclaim.

"And I said - "

"Wenduag!"

More people! Not speaking Abyssal! She calls out.

"Hello?" 

He's a lizard-elf-goat-person! Aside from being a lizard-elf-goat-person and probably needing to eat more he looks fine. He has a bow and a quiver of arrows and no other weapons or armor.

She, meanwhile, is almost invisible in the poorly-lit caves, her blue skin almost fading into the pattern of shadows. She's a spider-cat-person? She has a bow and quiver, like her friend, but unlike him she has armor.

"Lann, what is -" she spots the party. "Who are you?"

Oh wow, she's never seen anyone like either of them! Cool. 

"I'm Venn! I fell down into these caverns from the surface. How about you?"

(Her body language and tone are curious and friendly.)

"I'm Lann, and this is Wenduag." 

Wenduag regards them with not particularly concealed hostility as they introduce themselves.

Sometimes people aren't very friendly! She smiles anyways. 

"So what is it you're looking for, anyways? Maybe we could work together."

"An angel's sword."

"Lann not getting himself killed," she hisses at him.

"An angel's sword certainly seems like it'd be useful during a demon attack!"

She looks at Wenduag curiously. "Oh?" Do you think the sword is going to hurt him, or are you just worried about what he'll do when he has it?

"- The demons are attacking?" Lann says.

(...Huh. Guess they haven't seen any demons down here..)

Her face hardens. "A demon lord and his underlings attacked during the wardstone festival. They killed Terendelev and split the ground open - that's how the four of us ended up down here."

She looks around. "If there is an angel's sword down here, right now would be an excellent time for it to turn up."

"Yeah, you bet it would!" He gives a told-you-so look to Wenduag. 

"Even if what the surfacer is saying is true, that there's demons up there won't make it easier to get through the Shield Maze!"

Headtilt. "Shield Maze?" The sword is supposed to be here, so it's probably about something else...

"There were earthquakes and a bunch of the kids thought it was a sign to try to get to the surface. But the only way there is through the Shield Maze, which is as dangerous as it gets. Chief Sull doesn't want to go after them -"

"Because we'd all die."

"- We can't leave them to die! They're kids, Wenduag!"

(Seelah nods firmly.)

"Lann thinks that if he can find an angel's sword nobody could ever turn up before, he could get more people killed."

Vann nods thoughtfully. "If the only way to the surface is through the Shield Maze, then we need to head that way anyways. Let's see if we can find the sword first, though..."

She turns to Lann. "Where have you looked already?"

Wenduag looks murderous.

He gives her a yes-excellent look. "We just did back here. This whole area's a new section..."

"Okay, let's spread out and look!"

She's going to take this chance to prestidigitate Camellia's armor clean, along with anyone else who wants the same. 

Then she'll start looking near Wendaug, and attempt to strike up a quiet conversation.

"I want us all to get through this alive. Who are you worried about Lann getting killed, if not just himself?"

"Everyone," she hisses when Lann's out of the way. "He thinks he's some sort of crusader. If he can find the sword he'll wave it under Sull's nose and demand he takes the whole tribe into the Maze, and they'll all throw their lives away trying to save some young fools who are dead already."

Camellia appreciates it. She abhors looking like a butcher.

Ok, yeah, taking a large group through a dangerous area does sound like a great way to get people killed!

She casts message on Wendaug so they can keep talking while they search.

"You're right; that is a terrible idea. I'll talk him out of it. It might have been his best chance of getting through the Maze before we showed up, but a smaller and more experienced group has a much better chance at getting through. If the rest of the tribe wants to come to the surface, we can run rope down the chasm we fell into once we make it up there - that'll be much safer."  

She continues picking through the rubble. Angel sword, angel sword, where are you... 

Wenduag nods, apparently mollified.

There's lots of rubble here. The worked stone looks like an old crusader shrine, but it's been wrecked by the Deskari-induced earthquakes. None of Venn's companions can find it anywhere, though they all do look.

... Hey, what's that shining behind that lump of rock - 

Oh! She reaches out to touch it - 

Her chest is bleeding as the wound Terendelev healed tears open again, blood staining her shirt.

She is the Angel Lariel and he is dying, and his crusaders are dying around him. It wasn't even demons who'd done it; it was the angel's own men. Why? What spells had been cast, what lies spoken, to make them so throw their afterlives away? The betrayers are lurking out of range of his truesight. Even now, it is fear that drives them, fear more than any hope...

(The thoughts are very clear in her mind, as if she was thinking them herself. Is she Venn or Lariel?) 

There is one crusader dying by his side. She'll meet his friends in Heaven, tonight, but for himself he is spent, his power and his magic depleted, his flaming sword barely guttering. But he still has a few last moments left, here in these caverns beneath the city, and every moment is a chance to do what's right -

Augh - it hurts so much - both the pain and the knowledge that they've been betrayed by their allies, knowing that she'll die without knowing why... 

 but the pain isn't what matters, right now,

every moment is a chance to do what's right

she pushes herself up and then leans towards her dying ally. Her magic spent, she does what she can to tend to the wounds with her hands, despite the horrible pain she's in. She sings softly, to hold her composure, an angelsong of hope and light and tomorrow. 

And the wound fades and the woman wakes, and then blanches in fear.

It's an alien thought to Lariel, but it is an alien sensation; a feeling of the world warping around him. It is a Power gathering, and though Lariel is a Power, too, he is far lesser. The horror can only be seen in shadow, and then an outline - and then nothing but a nightmare. The mere sound of it pierces through flesh and bone like a heated spear; a rustling, rasping noise of insects and clicking metal. The traitors are prostrate and the creature approaches, giant and monstrous and the connection struggles - what Lariel sees is almost impossible for mortals to comprehend, and the [sight/sensation/translation] is itself a new agony -

Deskari... no...

"Run..." she croaks to her former allies, because it's the only chance they have, and then she's shouting, tears streaming down her face, the pain and horror overwhelming, 

"Run! Run until your legs give out! You mustn't give in! You can't let the Abyss claim you!" 

They remain prostrate in horror and worship, as Deskari moves unnaturally fast, lifting Lariel by his throat to stare him eye to eye -

"Where is your goddess now, angel? Where her proud herald, where her great hosts? How is it that she leaves you here, to die in the dark?" Deskari is not speaking to him, Deskari is speaking to be heard. His voice is not one; it is a young man's confident shout and an old man's quavering voice and a new mother and a warrior and more besides, every one of them speaking slightly off the others and all of them formed of the rustling of myriad myriads of insects.

(Lariel's sword is still in his hand.)

She grips the sword tightly, and tries to push as much of her power, her essence, her very self into it, and 

if they see that even He can be hurt, maybe, maybe then - 

she takes the last of her strength and swings

The blow sears Deskari's flesh and the sound of the blow is a discordant shrieking and grinding as Deskari's armor plates warp and shift together, his form twisting to cover the injury. The more noise of it is enough to make the last crusader (trying to run, now) vomit, as the cultists stare in horror. Deskari hurls Lariel aside and raises his scythe in both hands for the killing blow. 

Lariel stabs his sword deep into the rock, burying it there up to the hilt with all the power invested in it, that someone (some hero) may some day draw it from there again, and with his last words says -

(The vision is fading as Riftcarver falls)

"We'll never stop fighting you. A-and someday we'll wi-"

The vision breaks and she's back in the physical world again, the wound in her chest closing without even a scar. The only evidence it was there is the blood staining her shirt.

The sword - the soul of the sword - is in her hand. She can call it whenever she needs it.

"... You all right, Venn?" She was just glowing.

She gasps, eyes incredibly wide. "I - Lariel - "

- acting on instinct, she raises her hand high and reaches, calling out to the soul she knows is there.

The magic sword glows, bathing everyone in the group with the warm light of heaven, lending fortitude to their weary bodies and conviction to their hearts.

(The effect, sufficiently experienced adventurers will notice, is about the same as a Virtue cantrip.)

Awed at the feeling, she does her best to sing the angelsong from the ?flashback?

When she finishes what she remembers, she takes a deep breath. "Deskari. Deskari killed Lariel, right here. And he left the last specks of his power in his sword, hoping someone would claim it, some day..."

(her voice is thick with emotions; grief, and pride, and wonder,)

Seelah listens to the angel-song, joy on her face.

It is making her feel things and she does not like it.

Birds chirping.

There's awe and wonder on Lann's face. "The light of heaven. We all saw it."

(If Venn notices a difference in how her companions react, she doesn't let it show.)

She smiles at them. "Ok! Sword found." 

Then she turns to Lann and Wenduag. "How far are we from the Shield Maze?" 

"About twenty sangs. We'll want to go back to the tribe first, though." He grins. "This is a sign from Heaven. When Chief Sull sees it -"

He breaks off because Wenduag is glaring at him. 

Venn smiles. "Stopping back at the tribe first makes sense! Let's you and I chat along the way - there's a lot I'd like to learn about what things are like down here, and of course about the Shield Mage specifically..."

(She catches Wenduag's eyes for a moment, but doesn't bother saying anything beyond the implied trust me, I'll handle it)

Wenduag doesn't trust shit.

"I'll be glad to." 

Better the singing girl than Camellia. These people smell even worse than commoners usually do.

As they walk, Venn asks him a wide variety of questions ('what is life like down here, how big is your tribe, what kind of contact do you have with the outside world, how much of the Shield Maze have you mapped out and what did you find'), nodding thoughtfully at the answers and adding her own commentary.

They pause for a bit as group stops to make short work of another pair of giant bugs; Lann and Wendaug get their first taste of song-sorcery.

"How many people in the tribe are about as skilled in battle as you or Wendaug?"

"We're the two best hunters in the tribe." It's easy to believe, watching how fast and accurately they shoot.

She nods. "...based on what you've told me of the dangers of the Shield Maze, it seems to me that it would be safer and wiser to clear it out with a small team of skilled adventurers" (she gestures at the party) "and only bring the tribe to the surface once we're sure it's safe. A large group can be a liability against dangerous foes, even if their hearts are strong, and if we go slowly enough to keep the entire tribe protected, I worry we'd be too late to save the children." 

(Wenduag might be right about the kids already being dead. But they don't know, and Venn doesn't want the bravery they showed to be rewarded with death.)

Lann can't argue with this, but - "Well, of course we want to start with just the hunters! But the more archers we have the better."

She shakes her head, frowning. "In many situations, yes, but - demons are very dangerous. Do the other hunters have cold iron arrows? Without them, it's all but impossible for an ordinary archer to wound even a weak demon." 

She pulls an arrow out of her quiver and hands it to him to inspect. "I have only a very few, myself - enough to share with this group, if we're lucky, but definitely not enough for anyone else." 

"We have a few iron arrows," he says, looking at it carefully, "but we don't have that." He doesn't like this, but he really can't deny her point.

She can tell he's sad about it. "I'm sorry - it's a credit to you and your people that you would brave something this dangerous to aid the city. We'll be sure get everyone topside as soon as we've made sure it's safe, and we'll all be better off for it."

She glances around, curious to see if any of the others were listening / reacting.

Lann nods. He's glad to hear she has his back.

Seelah thought it was a private conversation and was avoiding it.

Wenduag was watching from a distance but trying to avoid looking like it.

Who, Anevia, eavesdropping? Definitely not.

Why would Camellia bother?

Venn nods slightly at Wenduag, and then catches Anevia's eyes and smiles. 

After the next encounter with giant bugs (there's enough of them that Venn needs to use a Grease to split them up in addition to her song, and Seelah ends up taking a hit before they all drop), she finds herself walking next to Anevia.

"Hey." Anevia's friendly, but it doesn't stop her from being the hardest person in the group to get a good read on.

Venn is loving the challenge, honestly! People she can't really read are interesting, and if they're friendly at the same time that's even better. (She does not make it hard to read that she's enjoying herself, when chatting with people.)

"Hey," she replies agreeably, and then (both because she's actually very curious and because it seems like an interesting thing to ask) follows up with "so is it broadly known in Kenebras that there's people living in these caverns? That these caverns exist?"

"Everyone knows we've got Darklands connections somewhere. Most cities do if you go down far enough. And there's stories that way back when some of the crusaders got lost in them and their descendants are still lurking down there - but I thought they were just tavern stories. They never included that the 'monsters' were friendly."

She nods. "Huh. Absalom has some really huge understructures connected to the sewers there. I've only been down once or twice, but the scale of it was humbling, and I've heard many tales about the strange things that live down there." 

She glances around tactfully, and then casts message targeting Anevia and whispers: "What do you make of them?"

And once it's clear the underground people are distracted, "I trust him. I don't trust her. He's young, but he means well. We're not her people and we're not her." 

She knows not to nod while using message, and instead whispers (as she looks around, perhaps for even more giant bugs) "Yeah, Lann seems like a good kid. Wenduag..." Sigh.

"I'll see if I can get a better read on her once we stop for a rest. It'd be nice if we could rely on her; she's very good with that bow of hers."

Normal volume. "You wouldn't happen to be carrying any cold iron arrows yourself, would you?"

"Three," she admits. "Only had one quiver with me when I fell." 

She nods. Not amazing, but three is more than none, and she's not faring much better.

"I've only got five. Hopefully we can find a few more." The loot situation hasn't been super promising so far; maybe the Shield Maze will have better pickings.

Over the course of the trip to Neathholm, they find fairly little loot by adventurer standards. The neathers are happy enough about their haul of carapace and lizard scales (the bits of bug armor can be used to tip arrows, the scales sewn or glued to leather to add a little more protection).

Since Venn is talking to everyone at every opportunity, she can pick up that Lann's chief interest in life is getting to the surface that she can go crusade, that Seelah came from halfway across the world (all the way from Garund!) to go to the Worldwound because this is where the demons needed fighting, that Anevia is much more used to demon cults than she is to shooting bugs and that Camellia has very little adventuring experience, possibly none, and in spite of her snobbery is really enthusiastic about getting the chance to actually put her monster-stabbing skills to the test.

Neathholm is a tiny fishing village, and aside from the fact that it's pitch black and everyone in the city has a distinct combination of humanoid parts, animal parts and growths, not a very unusual tiny fishing village. There are a couple guards who wave to Lann and Wenduag when they come in and exchange a couple words with them "- What, more surfacers?"

"More surfacers," says a Lann who might have pretty good self-control but is meeting lots of cool foreign crusaders! And, to Venn, "You should meet Chief Sull and Dyra before we do anything, especially if you have any surfacer coins..."

She'll smile and greet people that Lann introduces her to, of course.

She knows and expects to talk to the Chief, but "who's Dyra?"

"She's our cleric!" He waves over to a woman with a facial tumor, a twisted leg and a really big smile eagerly looking at everything the foreigners are doing. She's got a key on a string 'round her neck.

Ooooh, a Cleric of Abadar! Venn introduces herself as a song-sorceress adventurer. She's curious what Dyra's selling!

Dyra is selling channels and spells and scrolls and potions and scavenged items, and buying gold and interesting coins and arrows with metal heads and various crafting ingredients she can resell and mysterious surfacer things she's never heard of and will some day figure out a purpose for!

(Lann will try to hurry them along before they can get too into conversation, they shouldn't disrespect Chief Sull by keeping him waiting.)

Oh! She doesn't want to keep Chief Sull waiting, of course.

She tells Dyra she'll be back soon, and then follows Lann to meet the Chief. 

Chief Sull is an old man, old and near-blind, peering at her only with great difficulty. His chest rattles with every breath he takes, and his voice is slightly slurred. "Uplanders. The end times are on us indeed..." 

"We found the angel's sword!" Lann says.

Cara bows deeply, hands clasped together. "Greetings, Chief Sull."

Does he look like he has something to say, or should she keep going?

"Hmmph. Well, you're polite, at leasht." He peers at her. "What'sh thish about a sword? Doeshn't sheem likely." Chief Sull has seen many things happen, very few of them good.

She nods. "Today has been filled with unlikely happenings, most of them far less fortunate than finding Lariel's sword was. It gave me a vision and bound itself to me, when I touched it, and now I can do this."

She steps well out of slicing range (to avoid giving the wrong impression!), and 'draws' the sword, holding it high above her head as light and warmth radiate off it.

"Amazing," he says. Even he can see the light.

"And she volunteered to help us in the Shield Maze!"

Wenduag is watching Venn with narrow eyes.

Venn nods. "I plan on leading a small group of skilled fighters through the Shield Maze; we need to return to the surface to help the city in the fight against the demons. Lann mentioned that your people might wish to help as well; we'd be happy to either send word back through the Shield Maze, once it's been cleared out, or send rope down the chasm we fell into, whichever seems safer and easier."

(She notices Wenduag watching, but doesn't break eye contact with Chief Sull. They'll talk later.)

"We'll want everyone we can who can fight," says Lann, "at least anyone who can help -"

"Sho it'sh ash Lann wants," he said. "We'll return to the surface." He looks at Venn again. "Just a little group, you say? How many will you need other than you uplanders?" They're crusaders, yes, and they need to die for the angels eventually, but there's death and there's death.

"I'll take Lann and Wenduag, if they'll come - they've both proven their skills in battle, and we have experience working together."

She'll bring up the cold iron if the Chief pushes, but she doesn't really expect him to.

Okay, good, fine.

Lann nods firmly. "Of course we'll come."

She smiles. "Thank you. I'm certain your aid will prove invaluable." 

"Oooh, how many of those arrows do you have, and what would you like for them?" 

"Twenty-two," says Dyra, "and I want coins!" Money is the greatest invention!

Ah, Abadarians. She smiles. "The City at The Center of the World, Absalom, has a market district bigger than the entire city above us. It's called the Coins, and they say that you can buy anything there, if it's sold at all..." 

Venn usually finds it a bit exhausting to interact with the kinds of nobles who expect to be treated like an archmage in a party of swordsmen, but Camellia has been risking her life fighting alongside Venn, which makes it easier to tolerate.

She'll pop in to see if the woman wants to chat about anything. (If the vibes seem right, she'll ask about Horgus, who just promised her a quite compelling sum of money if Venn gets him back to the surface.)

Camellia is a shaman in a party of warriors, actually. It's really quite similar. "This is a filthy collection of hovels in a mosquito-filled swamp," she tells Venn pleasantly, "full of the most grotesque and inbred ruffians you can find. Other than that, all is well." 

Maybe being a song-sorceress instills you with a much better understanding of how important your stabbyfriends are! Maybe Venn just isn't a bitch.

She laughs in a way that's just barely clockable as not very genuine. "Gods willing we'll be out of here ere morrow, though I fear the surface may be in dire straits..." 

She makes polite conversation for a bit, and excuses herself as soon as she can without snubbing Camellia. 

Oh, Camellia is quite used to being snubbed. Nonetheless. 

"- I've always wanted to back to the surface. I still dream of the blue, you know over us - and it's a chance to get back to what we should be doing and fighting for what's right." Lann is SO GLAD to have someone he can talk to about this.

He's wanted to do more, all his life. Venn can absolutely relate. "Lann - I'm thankful to whatever twist of luck or Fate that brought us together, in the city's hour of need."

She dips her head slightly in respect. "It will be an honor to push back the demons with you and your people under the blue sky." Her smile and voice are warm and uplifting, a mundane reminder of the magic in her songs. 

"And hopefully we'll still be tolerable when it rains." 

"We can only hope," she agrees, laughing delightedly. (Ah, she loves it when people have a sense of humor...)

Wenduag sharpens arrows when she has nothing else to do. It's better than talking, honing the arrows with a decent knife and a whetstone, turning each one's bone head into a new tool to use. It'll be broken if it hits bone, but if it hits hard enough that'll do.

Venn has a habit of humming when she's approaching someone she wants to talk to who's busy doing something else - it lets them know she's there, and it lets her read their reaction to noticing her before they start talking, which can be quite valuable, at times.