Crypt of Osorin, epilogue
Log Info
- Title: Crypt of Osorin, epilogue
- Emitter: Culix
- Characters: Knightmare, Paenitia, Aimarra, Glasha
- Place: Crypt of Osorin
- Time: Wednesday, May 26, 2021, 1:34 PM
- Summary: Osorin lies defeated. Aimarra is close to joining him in death. Glasha, seeing the statue of Osorin move, investigates and discovers a strange tome and a secret passage. Sister Paenitia and Dame Betrys the Knightmare render aid to Aimarra, then the Lucht Knight starts packing up the bones. Glasha arrives and shares her discovery. The Knightmare inquires as to why they are robbing the tomb, something she as a Vardaman will oppose. Paenitia explains, somewhat self-servingly, that the Vardaman Temple will want to examine the necromantic bones and its best to bring them all along with their trappings. She also adds that she's robbed poorer rich people and doubts all this wealth was honesty come by. Aimarra is more direct, she almost died, wants to get paid, and doesn't want to leave all the treasure after having done all the work for someone else to waltz in and take. Glasha wants only the book, the alchemical supplies, and a few other things she's found. The Knightmare offers to bring a bunch from a nearby temple. At an impass, Aimarra and Glasha leave together, the Knightmare rides to get archaelogists and Paenitia waits with Ramirez who is carrying all the treasure. Eventualy authorities come, investigate, employ the two Knights as security while they examine the tomb and Aimarra and Glasha are caught up with, offered quarters where the half-orc can copy the book, and payment for their services. Ramirez keeps his Ruby.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Outside -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Glasha 5'8" 100 Lb Half-Orc Female Green-skinned, young lady with bleached hair. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Inside -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Knightmare 6'4" 294 Lb War Golem Female A knightly construct on the hoof bearing heraldry of lost Dragonier. Paenitia 3'0" 34 Lb Halfling Female A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery. Aimarra 5'1" 128 Lb Half-Elf Female Brown hair and eyes, breastplate, leathers, pointed ears. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= All around and Other things -=-=-=-=-=-= Smuldur 3'4" 45 Lb Goblin Male A gently used (cut, scraped, burnt, exploded) gobber. Ramirez, the Ivory Steed Hippogryph Male An ivory peacock-gypsy-andalusian, Paenitia's mount. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the smallest GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Culix 3'2" 36 Lb Goblin Female Beady-eyed goblin female in leathers and hood. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
Outside
Outside- where Glasha and Smuldur had been camping while the Goblin's wounds were too severe for him to continue onwards in the dungeon, their first hint that something is happening is when the statue atop the hill overlooking the crypt begins to rise into the air, slowly rotating in place. As it ascends, it reveals a lectern upon which is a massive tome, bound in leather, and leafed in gold. This hidden room also bears a spiral staircase which investigation will reveal leads back to that central, circular room from which the four corridors branched back underground.
GAME: Glasha casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 6 DC: 16
Glasha stands as things change around her. She looks down at Smuldur and tells Luna, "Watch him, yeah? I'm checking this out." She grabs her axe-staff and walks toward the revealed tome, another thing that seems to have her hypnotized. She speaks out that unpronounceable speech while gesturing in ways that look uncomfortable. She then peers at the tome for several seconds, discerning the potential magic therein or thereupon.
GAME: Glasha rolls Perception: (12)+1: 13
She needs to learn to pick up on your surroundings more...or maybe get glasses. Such a nerd!
This may take some time.
Glasha swallows nervously as she completes her thorough inspection. She takes a few deep breaths and hopes a fireball doesn't destroy the tome as she grips it and pulls it from the lecturn. She looks around at any obvious points a trap might spring for her as she holds her 'prize'.
When Glasha takes the tome from its Lectern... nothing happens. It's a weighty book, and bears a title on the front in an older dialect of tradespeak.
Overall, not bad. Not bad at all. The bigass statue of Osorin rose up, and the plinth it was ontop of turned out to be a secret room, with a lectern- the tome on it- and a spiral staircase down. Stairs that presumably will allow the half-orc to quickly rejoin the party. As she's grabbed the tome and has as yet not been struck by a curse or fire... she'll go back down and try to find everyone else.
Glasha considers the book. She leaves translation for later, as knowledge is one of those things that can be more valuable than gold, and as such, considered part of the treasure. She does, however, put it in her satchel with her other books. "Luna, come," Glasha calls out. "We descend." The raven comes and perches on the specialized top of Glasha's axe-staff. "Be well, Smuldur. I will return as soon as I can." Then she descends the staircase.
Her chosen path will be through the area she tried to imprint the larval insects, past the chest room she didn't get to see, past the spinning death room to rejoining the others.
As Glasha descends back down into the crypt from this secret entrance, she discovers that the wall sconces are all burning brightly, illuminating the crypt. Despite the absense of torches or candles in them. Clearly the work of magic.
<OOC> Culix says, "Oh, except the bugs. Fort save to avoid being nauseated." GAME: Glasha rolls Fort: (19)+4: 23
After being assaulted by bug butt blasts, Glasha finds the group in its current state.
Inside
Meanwhile, inside- the pulling of the lever had triggered the changes above, but Paenitia, Aimarra and Knightmare have been rather too distracted combatting the animated remains of the tomb's owner and elite guards. Now felled, their bones rest once more- Aimarra suffered the worst of it, the ranger struggling to remain conscious, having lost much blood- and still losing it.
As the last of the bones crumble into dust, Aimarra loses her battle with the state of vertical, slumping in relief against the side of a sarcophagus, sliding slowly down against it until she meets the floor, her nicked blade clattering against the stone as she leans her head back, grimacing in pain from multiple deep wounds in sides, shoulders, belly, and legs, her eyes closed. She's conscious, but only just. "Ramirez, good boy!" Paenitia cries joyfully, as her peacock-andalusian knocks the sorcerer bones to pieces. She hastily corrects herself, "Good Man! Man! Yes. It is a tongue slip, I do not demean you. Bring the kit."
The Red Knight scrambles over the sarcophagus and over to Aimarra. Ramirez follows, and she pulls down her healers kit. She stares in the half-elf's eyes, unpacking automatically. "You fight well. We are here, we bring the bandages. Hold on, stay awake and do not move."
Paenitia carefully repositions Aimarra, letting her lie flat with a pad under her head. She starts loosening armour and cleaning the wounds. A glance at the arm with the strange bite, checking that too.
In the wake of the final skeleton's fall, the Knightmare scans her gaze about the area as her mighty destrier angrilly smites the floor with his forehooves. Seeing no more active abominations, the shadows release their hold on the construct, her gleam and hues returning to their proper luster.
A moment after, she slips down from the saddle, patting the side of his neck with, "Well done, old friend!" and steps over to her fallen comrade. She pulls a small red vial from one of her storage compartments at her waist, "Hold, Sister. We may yet be pressed by enemies." She sinks to her haunches beside the pair to present the potion to Aimarra, "Here, comrade, this should help."
GAME: Knightmare used a Potion of Cure Light Wounds. GAME: Knightmare rolls 1d8+1: (6)+1: 7
Aimarra does not resist the red knight as she is pulled into a supine position, although she does look up through glassy eyes at the Lucht. "I - have no intention of doing anything of the kind."
The strange bite appears to be long-healed, but once vicious, extending from elbow to wrist across her left forearm once unwrapped from its cloth bindings. The rest of it is much more worrisome, some of it bone-deep, and she has indeed lost a great deal of blood - and continues to do so, though sluggishly.
When Knightmare moves into view with the potion, she makes an effort to prop herself up on one elbow to take it, letting out a hiss between her teeth.
The Red Knight moves out of the way as the potion is passed, and used. She doesn't pack up her kit yet. "Do you wish more bandaging? We may be at an end. If more foe come, they will while I do this, but if none are approaching the treatment in town is better."
Paenitia looks up at the Knightmare, mask to grim visage, "Dame Betrys, check the room for strange features, then we examine the bones?"
Ramirez meanwhile, examines his ruby, batting it between his talons across the floor.
Knightmare carefully uncorks the vial and nods, her beaming smile as cheerful as ever. She shifts her weight to her one hoof as her counterbalancing tail does it's work, leaning closer to the wounded archer. She cradle's Aimarra's upper shoulders with one hand and brings the potion to her lips with the other with incongruous gentleness.
Her head pivots toward Paenitia on her suggestion and she nods, then looks back to be sure the ption is finally empty and nods again, "As you say, my friend." She rises, then, and starts to make her way about the chamber, still on alert, "Cysgodawyr, be on guard!"
With a flick of an ear and an eager neigh, the horse rears just a bit onto his back hooves.
Morefun!Morefun!Morefun!
The indecision and pain on Aimarra's delicate features is palpable, but once the potion is brought to her lips and consumed, and it has taken effect, she blinks a few times, then nods slowly. "I'm not going to be the reason you and Dame Betrys get caught unawares. I'll manage." The bleeding has stopped, but Paenitia is quite right that a professional healer needs to take her in hand. Very, very slowly, she sits up, and then makes to get to her feet, accepting assistance if it is offered, but managing without it if it is not. "Let's make it worth it. Thank you," she adds to Knightmare, looking up gratefully as she does so.
In the burial chamber, nothing much has changed for the time being. The skeletons are broken to pieces- the guards were equipped with fine chain armor, longswords and steel shields- fine, but unremarkable. The more remarkable of the three is Osorin's skeleton itself. The entire skeleton is intricately decorated, with gold leaf, inlays, gemstones affixed directly to the bone in places. He also has a gold crown on his skull. His ropes are a rich purple and gold silk brocade, though faded and moth-eaten from ages in the crypt. His bony fingers bear rings, specially crafted to fit in the absense of flesh.
It is aparrent that Osorin could not bear to be without his riches, even in death.
Paenitia examines all that is revealed in the skeletons destructions. She quickly packs her kit and places it back on Ramirez's increasingly crowded saddle. Osorin gets a long perusal. "How he attach these? While living he sink the molten gold through his skin to his bones? After death? It is very precise work."
The little Lucht has some blacksmithing and silversmithing experience. Enough to know this is beyond her. She gets some sacks and starts packing up the bones, one set to a bag. "There other bags on Ramirez, for the gear."
"You're welcome." the construct replies in return, but as she begins to examine the walls for more traps, finally has the time and wherewithall to inquire, "What quest brought you into this place?" over her shoulder.
A pause, then a somewhat lower, though no softer, "What are you doing?"
At least she's still smiling.
"I hear that Aimarra and Smuldur go to investigate a tomb, maybe with undead, and come to give my comrades aid." Paenitia explains, packing the sacks. The large bones are easy enough, even the smaller ones. It's the chips and fragments that broken off in battle that are hardest. Small and scattered about the room, they're both hard to find and determine exactly who they belong to.
Unless they're gold or gem encrusted, of course. "I think it like the gnome's castle, perhaps, with trapped time, and what I know will help." The Red Knight explains further, "Now we gather them to take back to Temple to ensure they do not rise again."
The half-orc arrives.
All together now
After being assaulted by bug butt blasts, Glasha finds the group in its current state. Her attention quickly goes to the blood-covered Aimarra. Her initial response is one of shock, but she also sees nobody else is panicking. She still goes to Aimarra. "Perhaps I shouldn't have gone topside with Smuldur. Is there anything I can do for you before I offer lifting and carrying help?"
The riches aren't enough to heal Aimarra's wounds or clear her head, but they sure are pretty. _Whoever said this place was full of wealth was not kidding._ "Don't worry about it, Glasha. I ... I think I'll be all right." That's a load of prideful garbage, and anyone looking at her twice will know it, but she seems determined not to lag behind.
She looks up briefly at Glasha, then picks up a stray gemstone in one blood-soaked hand, the long-healed bite on her forearm plainly visible. Whatever bit her was enormous.
"Yes," she agrees. "I ain't a goody-two-shoes, but some things just don't belong on Ea, and undead are one of them, and I could use the money," she chimes in to Knightmare, leaning again on one of the emptied sarcophagi and watching Paenitia pack sacks, twirling the one gem in her fingers.
"Absolutely agree," Glasha says at Aimarra's statement on the undead. "On the way home, I'll clean and repair your things with magic, if you'll let me. At least you won't have to wear your own blood, yeah?" She turns and looks to those gathering bones. "Okay, what do you need my help with?" she asks.
There is a stillness, almost deathly from the skullfaced construct as she considers the words put before her.
"The stain of undeath must be cleansed, this is true." the Knight begins, turning to more fully face the others, "But the trappings of the interred should remain, as the Grey Lady decreed."
All in all - there's Osorin's skeleton, which is clearly valuable, the sundies found in the mimic room, and the alchemical supplies in the lab which might be valuable. The whole site would also be of interest to historical scholars. There is also the book, though you won't know if it's valuable or to whom without examining it.
The Red Knight halts her bone collecting and stands up, all three feet of her. She rubs at the mustached chin of her mask, a thoughtful-seeming expression, though somewhat mischievious or malicious with the fixed grin. "I am not sure he interr himself according to the Grey Lady's methods. I think he would have stay in the sarcophagus."
"The bones, we must take back to be examined. There alchemcy potions to be look at too. I do not think they will be re-interred here. So we must take the possessions of the bones too. This is not the peaceful tomb."
Paenitia waves her in a way that encompasses the whole area, "so much expense to build this place. An honour to craft here, or the life of a slave? He take it all with him, he bring his followers too? I think so, they come with him."
"Not on your life, my friend." Stung at Knightmare's words, Aimarra straightens, brown eyes flashing. "Screw that. If they were just dead, I'd agree with you. Someone who doesn't let the dead rest in peace, for my lights shouldn't get to rest in peace either, and taking their tomb trappings is compensation for having to put them back where they belong, the arrogant little prick. Besides, I ain't getting myself damn near killed to leave this behind, and if I don't take it, someone who didn't do the work will."
She looks over at Glasha then, and nods. "Don't suppose it'll do a lot of good to clean my clothes on the way home, but if you could clean the armor, I'd appreciate it."
Glasha shakes her head, "My mom was all about the nature gods, and they're usually all about...you know...decomposing and becoming part of nature again. What about the other skeletons here? The ones in that second room we came in. We carting everything back for a non-natural burial?" She looks at the two-quarterling. "If nobody has any issue, I'd like to take the lead scales for my own use, the alchemical supplies to sell at-cost with the Society of Progressive Arcanists, and this book I found upstairs." She pulls the book from her satchel and holds it in her hands, her axe-staff leaning against her collarbone. "The gold and gems are less valuable to me than the knowledge of the things I have mentioned."
GAME: Paenitia rolls knowledge/local: (7)+8: 15 GAME: Aimarra rolls knowledge/local: (5)+5: 10 GAME: Knightmare rolls knowledge/local: (14)+6: 20
There is a museum in one of the towns nearby, though which you cannot recall, who you believe would be interested in the tomb and probably Glasha's book.
How to Make Friends and Influence People, Chapter three, page six:
Get in the way of profit.
Knightmare considers the others in the chamber, bold and brave and true. Their words are not entirely incorrect, but neither are they faultless, "Some compensations are likely possible, having discovered so many souls so abominably sullied." is her counter, "Her church is of keen interest of such travesties and not unkind to they who thwart them."
She turns toward the less familiar soul, "This tomb and it's contents are stained. The Mourners mst come and see that no agency of Undeath is permitted to slip into the world beyond. If coin is your requirement, I am prepared to put it forth to allay conflict, myself."
"Yes." Paenitia says, slumping. She'd forgotten about the skeletons near the entrance. So many of them and such a large battle. "And the dead adventurer outside the first door."
"I do not think the Mourners will want to come, and this Tomb made with much expensive. In Isobar, I have taken more from nobles who have less, who squeeze it first from the common people. I think these riches are not honest come by and should not be honest kept."
'Ruuuaaaaah!' Ramirez misses Isobar.
"And leave it here in case it decides to wake back up from its second dirt nap? No thanks." The edge in Aimarra's tone is laced with pain, but she does lean back against the sarcophagus again, still toying with the one gemstone in her hand, twining it between the fingers of her good hand. "That's fine for the little ones, but Osorin's bones, I'd watch those things until the Basalt Queen's servants can see to it. Not to mention that this place is still damned dangerous." She nods over at Paenitia. "I ain't meaning to disrespect the dead, but I ain't thinking this one deserves respect."
To Glasha, she frowns. "The rest, I ain't mind, but I'd be after knowing what that book's got in it before I let it go."
"Hey," Glasha says, "I'm all for giving these skeletons a Green Word thing. I mean...if I can remember how that goes. Like I said, reclaimed by nature, right? That's all any of us can hope for. Not hoarding the nutrients we died with forever. Kind of unjust to the rest of the world. Knowledge is another point I have to bring up again. Knowledge is either shared or dies. That's not particularly just." She moves to Aimarra. "I am willing to read out what I can translate here, to all of you, as safely as I can. I'll read a page mentally, and if nothing happens to me, I will read it out loud, translating wherever I need to. It's in an old dialect of trade speak, and I am vehement about wanting to keep it if I can."
"There is a town some hours' ride from here called Akimsetr, where there is a museum known for studying the days when Ororin is said to have lived." Knightmare replies, "Their scholars may be able to offer some insight as to who entombed them. Likely too, would such a sizable town have a temple of capable Mourners to come see to this place. Under my protection alone, if need be."
There's another look between the lots of them, and, "I am prepared to hand each of you thirty platinum to abide. With the chance that the Mourners would see fit to reward you further, should their wisdom direct them so."
GAME: Glasha rolls Linguistics: (17)+15: 32
Glasha looks at Knightmare. "See, I feel like we're at a crossroads, here. I really don't want this to come to blows, but I've had plenty of celestials and the spirits of the elemental planes themselves support me in the destruction of this legacy. Osirin did his best to keep worshipers out, and this book, Osirin's autobiography, would do better scribed and studied by genuine historians than stuck on a pedestal you had to trudge through this place and risk death to get to." She shakes her head. "This gold and these gems should never have been locked away by a rich merchant of undeath. They should have, in the worst reasonable case, been passed down to an heir. At this point, with posthumous attempted and possibly successful murder, manslaughter, and creation of undead at some point during his life, I say this man's legacy is best relegated to history books."
There are two obvious options: Loot and Fence, or get the Archeologists and Scholars and Varadmites involved, and get paid by them for the find. Not the only options, of course.
"The Green Word Ritual is the good idea, for normal dead." The Red Knight says, looking over at Glasha, "Not for the undead. The Mourners will want do extra rituals on bones that have walk already, and we do not have a Green Thumb here."
"Do not read the book aloud, it may awaken some new curse." She sounds like she's grinning, her mask at least, is always grinning. "Read in the head, and we see if you go run and scream."
In a more serious tone, she looks at the Knightmare, "Two hour, that will be the time to bandage Aimarra and check Smuldur. I can wait two more, for you to return. We stay and watch the bones so they done rise, I put together the ones in the other room. That will take the rest of time, and we also check there no more beetles hiding."
And perhaps, the quicksilver room once more.
"This, a workable plan?"
"You expect me to take that on faith?" Aimarra stares at Knightmare in disbelief, her usual at-least-reasonable tact eroded as her head swims again. "You're promising someone else's hand, and I'll bet any money you didn't ask first. They'll give us not a damn thing except a thank you and maybe a blessing if we're lucky." She stares at the Vardamen, hard and none-too-kindly, but she falls silent then, assessment passing behind her eyes as she grips the sarcophagus with her free hand, as best she can. "Fine. Long as I'm compensated for this, you do what you want with it," she adds sullenly, and pushes herself with an effort to her feet, moving slowly to pick up her weapons, the sword first and then the bow left by the entrance to the burial chamber. She ignores Paenitia, and shoots only a brief glance at Glasha. "Let me know what you find."
It looks as if she is preparing to leave.
"Hey," Glasha says to Aimarra, following her. "Why don't you come with me. I need to grab some of those previously cursed scales that turned to lead before we go, and I will walk with you to the stairs and make sure nothing molests your exit. Besides, I should get back to Smuldur." She doesn't seem to be taking Knightmare's threat seriously, or at least intends to do what she will without Knightmare's consent.
It seems the Knights are in favor of handing things over to the temple and archaologists, while Aimarra and Glasha are against.
Although, the half-orc only really wants the 'worthless' lead, a book to be copied before returning it, and maybe the alchemical supplies, likely because it's part of a lichification attempt.
The very stuff a vardamite would absolutely want destroyed.
The mortiferous construct continues to stare at the Literate one in wake of her words, tail flicking slightly behind her. After a few moment's, there is the slight dip of her chin and her internal bellows start to work anew, "We are not acquainted, and I will let the suggested threat pass. Once."
The knight looks then to the archer, "I suggest ore is possible, but promise only what is within my power."
There's a look to Paenitia at the last and she nods, "I trust your word." and starts to approach her mount.
There is an Impass, of sorts, and a way forward. Aimarra wants to be compensated and she doesn't care who does it. Glasha wants the scales, the book, and to get out with Smuldur too, it seems like she's protecting him. Paenitia came to assist her friends, but has no qualms about robbing Osorin after seeing the oppulence. She's concerned for her friend's honour. The Knightmare must uphold Vardama's will. Most of the loot is already on Ramirez, and the Knightmare doesn't know what or how much, and if Aimarra and Glasha go, that loot ends up with the Archaelogists unless they very blatantly unload it. Glasha is leaving with Aimarra, the Knightmare is riding to get help.
So both options. Both is good.
"Dame Betrys, Cysgodawyr come through the battle unharmed?" The Red Knight asks suddenly, looking over towards the horse. He looks fine. He and Ramirez are standing close to each other, whickering and flicking tails. Well, only Cysgodawyr. Ramirez's tailflick can clear rooms.
She moves over to visibly check on him, having some experience with equines, having half of one herself. It's more a distraction, something to allow Aimarra and Glasha to get further away.
Most of the treasure was already loaded on Ramirez, before the Knightmare arrived. The Dark Lucht isn't about to disturb or explain those sacks even if it is bloody obvious what some of them contain.
Paenitia looks over the horse's hooves, and higher up, "He seem ok."
Though the finer details of the arrangement would prove to take some time- some more bickering, it is eventually settled that the remains would remain here, under Paenitia's guard, until Knightmare could return with reinforcements from the temple and archeologists to study the site.
Aimarra, Glasha and Smuldur make it out with their sum of the finds, but being on foot, they are slower moving than the others. A messenger sent ahead by the Archeologists guild finds Glasha at the next town- she is offered a sum for the book, the museum intend to transcribe it and put it to print. She will receive a copy, of course, but the original, they insist, must go into safe keeping given its advanced age. Even with protective magics, the danger of it being destroyed in an adventurer's posession is too great.
The Vardamite church offer a paltry bounty for the destruction of the undead present here, while the historians offer a much tidier sum for the significant find- and in thanks for making it safe for their exploration. Paenitia and Knightmare, still being here when they arrive, are even offered opportunity to be retained for a few days, just to make sure they hadn't missed any nasties in their initial exploration.
Glasha responds favorably, but insists she's allowed to copy the book in the archaeologists', or at least the messenger's presence. The contents are what's important to her, not the paper or enchantments. If they don't agree, she will take it back when she's done copying it in Alexandria, but in either case, she won't trust someone else with the knowledge. Apparently, a long feud with the closest guild to your own will sour one to working with other guilds, apparently. However, she makes good on whatever version the Archaeologists' guild agree to, especially if it means Aimarra and Smuldur can rest up a day or two if they choose to wait for her to copy the book verbatum.
The messenger is happy for Glasha to accompany him back to the museum, where she is allowed to perform her transcription- they even have a special workshop, just for transcribing ancient and fragile books, complete with special enchantments to turn the pages so they don't need to touch them with their gross half-human hands.
GAME: Aimarra rolls fortitude: (19)+7: 26
Aimarra is amenable enough to the delay, and remains in the care of the local healer for much of that time, although she does find the energy to replenish her food and potions somewhere during her stay. When she is hale enough to continue, she parts ways with the others, returning to Alexandria with her payment.
Cysgodawyr whickers some as the little Knight checks up on him, but as they are such steadfast companions, he doesn't do anything untoward, though his ears are riding a little flat from the strange tone his partner was using before. He isnt sure what it means. Still, the little Knight's examinations go well, and aside from his fluted barding, he hasn't taken a scratch int he altercation.
Betrys, herself, looks after the others for a moment before approaching Sister Paenitia and gently touching her shoulder, "Thank you for seeing to him. Keep them safe, and I will return swiftly, my friend."
The Dragonieri then puts a hoof in the stirrup and swings up into the saddle to ride out into the windswept ways to retrieve those souls best meant for these conditions with all the speed she can muster.
If she is unhappy by the departures, the Crown Knight says nothing of it, but she has returned with some days of feed for the mounts as well as, well, more companions than it turns out she still has. She does agree to stay to protect those going through the tomb until it is deemed fit for closure, and the Enduring One's work is done....
The Red Knight is gladly retained for the few days, offering her protection and happy enthusiasm and keeps jolly company with the Knightmare. Her ivory steed enjoys the verdant outdoors nearby and the brief novelty of being in a herd of two with the warhorse.
And, Ramirez keeps his ruby. 'Ruaaaaaah!'
