“Argh… goinn’ur ‘un outta’ere?” Isaiah clarified.

“Wait for nightfall and let’s gun for Katheer. Maybe get something out of this looting shit while we’re at it for the road.” David answered.

Isaiah nodded as he grabbed hold of his new axe and together, they climbed upstairs. Conveniently, they found their weapons and David’s Pip-Boy still untouched on the same chest that he saw where the Sarenites had confiscated them too.

“What we dealing with now boy?” David checked his Pip-Boy as he ordered Isaiah to peek at the door.

“Looks like the party ended as soon as it started.” Isaiah scouted quietly from the door.

The Nethysian Marauders had finished off the last of the defenders whilst they carried anything of practical value onto carts pulled by oxen-built beasts. Carts upon carts of precious foodstuffs, weapons, tools and all sorts of practicals are being stacked on mounds of loot for these rapacious folks. The rest were being put to the torch, sometimes quite literally by their literal hands, spouting fire forth onto the decrepit Monastery Fortress with their wild magicks. If these Raiders can just leave anytime sooner or at least not bother looking for two missing brethren of theirs, David and Isaiah should be able to flee out of the Castle without being accosted by them, now that they have fattened themselves with the Fortress’ plunder.

“Let me go!” a familiarly rash female voice cried forth from amidst the ashes.

It was the two birdie twins that had interrogated them earlier. Tutoria and Tomos. The young girl was being held against her arms by magically conjured chains that bound their feet and hands.

“I thought I told you to kill all of the Paladins!” a dignified looking member of Witnesses of the Dead God reprimanded his subordinate cultists. He drew his sword, still fresh with the blood of the Sarenites he had massacred in the Fortress, readying to taste blood once again.

“Boss! don’t you see what we’re having here?” the raider who held the hapless Paladin behind her caressed the woman’s body ghoulishly with a sagacious eye. “This Sarenite and her stupid twin are Aasimars! Plumekith to be exact! Very rare!”

“Go on…” his superior stayed his blade and began to observe the twins and listened to his subordinate’s words.

“This bitch here… will make a fine slave… I am talking about thousands, maybe tens of thousands worth to the right buyer. Young, blonde, and look at her eyes!” She grabbed hold of her chin to help exemplify Tutoria’s exotic features to the marauder leader. But the Aasimar wouldn’t be so humiliated so easily by him. She bit her captors’ fingers, drawing blood.

“Feisty are you!” the marauder tossed Tutoria to the ground and pummeled her defenseless form with two wide slaps. “I think you need to learn some manners!”

“Sister no!” Tomos, whilst bruised and bleeding still with bloodshot eyes pleaded. “Take me instead! Don’t hurt her!”

“Brother!” Tutoria gasped for air as she looked at her twin.

“Fuckin’ slavers.” Isaiah seethed with anger. “We gotta help’em.”

“No, we have to get our asses out of here.” David attempted to overrule him as he re-attached his Pip-Boy onto his forearm.

“For fuck sake Dave! I thought Rangers are meant to help people!” Isaiah argued back.

“But we also have to play it smart, Ice. We’re surrounded by people who can shoot flames out of their asses. Let’s just get our asses out of here. They can distract them for us while we make our escape.” David rebutted.

Isaiah inhaled deeply and seethed with steam. Conflict between his heart and his head contested for control of his next action in that one second. Morals of rescuing these people and the Pragmatism of running away now while the Bandits havent discovered them, are tussled until one ultimately prevailed.

“Fuck you Dave!” Isaiah rebuked his superior. He kicked the door leading to the outside and brandished his Crossbow toward the Nethysian Witness Cultists. “Eat lead!”

The First bolt of the Steeletown-borne had let loose, hitting toward the throat of the Nethysian villain who held the Aasimar Twins through his enchantment spell, freeing the siblings from their magical bonds.

“Kill him!” the Raid Leader ordered his men.

But Isaiah’s fire stole the initiative, the Raiders were still drunk from their victory, not expecting that there were still those few embers that could still singe them. The marauders still heavily outnumber them however, 10 to 1. They drew their weapons and readied their spells to bring down this raging beast so that they may enjoy their ill-gotten gains. But Isaiah cared not of the odds. In his heart, he can feel the legacy of the Rangers before him, his idols, his role models, and his Heroes standing shoulder to shoulder with him as he made his valorous charge against those malefactors.

“May his still gaze oust you!” a Nethysian raised his hands into the air, turning the very air black with frightful shadows before dispersing forth towards Isaiah.

The Rookie soon found himself being perniciously besieged by his own dark thoughts, his insecurities, HIS FEARS. A momentary pause to his rapturous rampage. Dying alone, never seeing his Colorado and his mother again, or worst of all…

“No!” he purged himself of these doubts. Purging them all from his head with his renewed vigor to rescue and protect the innocent.

“Damnit kid watch yourself!” David ran out of the door and opened fire with his Semi-Automatic Rifle. Kneeling down by a half wall he aimed towards the Nethysian Cultists who were climbing down the palisades of the Fortress whilst Isaiah dealt with the Cultists on the ground.

His aim was true, one shot and one kill of his rifle brought down the still bewildered raiders. But alas they continue to flood them from all angles.

Around the corner of his right eye, one Nethysian readied his magic wand and unleashed a magical trio of arcane energies that spiraled like glinting stars from above.

“Shit!” David cussed as he ducked down to his cover just barely in time as those magical missiles darted to his position, kicking the dirt and dust onto him.

“Outlander!” Tomos along with his sister crawled towards David’s position, the Plumekith having taken with him his satchel, and his sister’s sword from their captors.

“Get down kids!” David pressed them until their bodies were kissing the sooty ground as he blindly fired two shots of his rifle towards the enemy who scrambled for cover.

“Here! Here!” Tomos scrambled for his satchel, on his hands came a singular glass poultice that he stirred gently before he threw it to the ground.

An implosion of coughing smoke filled the air as David’s eyes were reduced to tears as he tried to rub out these alien chemicals from his dark brown eyes.

“Come!” Tomos grabbed hold of him as the trio used the concealing smoke to reposition towards a much sturdier cover where they could hide. The same concoction that had irritated their eyes hurt much more against their pseudo-cyclopean foes. Their singular eyes rendered them stunned with debilitating blindness.

“The hell was that?!” David glared at Tomos as he reloaded his Rifle.

“A smoke bomb I worked on!” Tomos smiled upon his little creation’s success whilst he splashed some water onto his eyes, then to David and Tutoria to wipe off the bomb’s stinging curse.

“You need to work on it more! It’s like staring at the sun for too long… and we’re Sarenites.” Tutoria reprimanded her.

“At least we can still get out of this, sis.” Her brother reassured her. “Outlander…”

“David.” The Ranger gave his name. “Less talking, more killing.”

“Sister. Now is the time.” Tomos handed over Tutoria’s sword to her.

“Kill… Kill… Them?” Tutoria swallowed her throat. A cold sweat fell down her feathered forehead as she looked at David and her brother.

The Veteran Ranger knew that look in the girl’s eye. It was that one fleeting chance of remaining humanity that separated the greens from the regulars. A sink or swim, a life-or-death, a rite of passage where the soldier was given the choice to pull the trigger, or for the Paladin’s case, the moment where she must take a life or be taken.

“We have to Sis!” Tomos cried. “Y-You… trained for this!”

“Trained… Trained… Trained…” the Paladin’s breathing spurred in erratically as her eyes glowed with temper. She pulled her curved saber from its scabbard and she rushed into the fray with eyes blinded in ire.

Despite all of her mantra, all of her anger and wicked grippings of her blade. She swung her saber wildly across her waist, relying on the full dervish of her sword to sweep through the Nethysians without little care for her own regard. Such frenzy, the marauders were adept of weathering such a storm, strafing away from overhead assault harmlessly. Tutoria was less akin to a vengeance-gripped crusader and more of a storm-flared child.

“She’s going to get herself killed.” David leaped out of the Cover and gave chase.

“Bu—what about me?” Tomos asked him.

“You wanna live, kid? Help my boy over there kill these assholes. And then let’s talk?” David ordered pointing towards Isaiah just as he gave chase to Tutoria.

“Stop her!” one Nethysian cried as he thrust his spear towards the berserking Paladin.

It was a direct hit! The piercing attack punched through her golden-colored chest plate and drew blood.

For most folks, this would have been the end to such fury. But the Aasimar only turned her gaze towards the one who dared to strike her. Her glowing blue eyes shaking in fury as if the mere attack only seemed to enrage her more.

“You idiot! Don’t damage her like that!” his fellow Cultist condemned him.

David came to Tutoria’s side, cursing himself that he should have joined the fray sooner. Firing his rifle on two marauders, quickly dispatching them. A third one however, attempted to chop down David with his sword but he parried him with his rifle before kicking him away to finish him off with another quick crack of his gun towards his chest. He knew the shot was fatal, striking at the marauder’s heart by the very profuse blood loss that now erupted from his entry wound just as the bandit collapsed to the ground.

“Retreat!” the Cultist Raid Leader rallied his men. Raising his quarterstaff high to manifest the magical winds surrounding him and what remains of his vagabond thugs.

“You won’t get away!” Tutoria held her saber in two hands and charged forth again.

“Dammit kid you’re just letting yourself at’em.” David gave chase to the tempestuous girl.

The Paladin whirred herself against the marauders. A storm in human form, but only in a storm the size of a human. Her dance was a show, but not of a dance that could leave anyone captive to its grace. The marauders took advantage of her lack of technique and where she couldn’t feasibly parry away their attacks, they struck her, piercing her body with their spears and axes. Yet despite her injuries, her rage remained resolute. As if her body was just as iron-hearted as her impassioned assault.

David, Isaiah and Tomos meanwhile had to compensate for the Paladin’s lack of accuracy. Easily sweeping them off with their weapons. It did not take long until all of the Nethysian Raiders who came out of the Fortress’ courtyard lay dead before them.

“Purge the Evil! Slay the Corrupt! Burn the wicked! Why have you denied me this glory!” Tutoria turned around and fumed towards David, her blade clean of the blood of those infidels who dared defiled this holy place. Yet her blue robes, beneath her golden cuirass, began to leak her Aasimar blood and unto the floor.

“Lady! You are bleeding right now, do not move please!” David holstered his rifle and raised his hands slowly to calm her down.

Enraged, but still acknowledging her current disposition, Tutoria held her right hand towards the wounds on her body, laying them just an inch short of touching her numerous wounds. Golden energies began to enrapture her body as the wound began to miraculously close, healing her.

“Sister, I am glad you are safe!” Tomos ran past David and hugged his sibling tenderly, sharing a tearful relief that they are at the end of the day safe and together.

“I know… but… our… our home!” Tutoria let go of her brother and lamented over the now ruined fortress. “They stormed our walls, penetrated our sanctuaries, massacred our brothers… our sisters… and… and… Sun and Fury! The Anchorite!” the Paladin rushed into the desecrated Abbey with her brother and the two former prisoners chasing after her.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

If the exterior of the Fortress Monastery prefaced what depravity the Nethysians were capable of doing, hell hath fury when you delve deeper into the defiled sanctums of the Sarenite Monastery. Corpses of those faithful and the flocks they had sworn themselves to protect lay brutalized and mutilated across the blue tiles of the sacred site. Altars defiled with blood, manned pews frozen into chantries of silenced despair of those who prayed in vain for salvation and riches kidnaped from their once revered pedestal greeted the distraught four to their absolute horror.

A horrid and cruel sight to behold.

The centerpiece of this gallery of atrocities was namely within the central shrine to Sarenrae herself, her giant Holy Icon, with its warmly regal embrace lay toppled to the floor replaced with a blood-stained writing to symbolize in all earnest the monastery’s fall from grace.

“The Gods abandoned us!” Tutoria quoted the vandalism on those sacred marble walls. “No… No… this… there is still… hope!” she denied her grief.

“The Anchorite…” Tomos gasped as he pointed towards a pool of blood that came from behind the altar.

Dreadfully, the twins quavered their way around the Altar and froze before loosing their tears upon the source of the blood. A fatherly bearded man in resplendent robes lay dead, his hands clutching his Sarenite Crucifix on his breast as multiple stabbing wounds gushed forth blood that stained the Monastery’s floor. He had died swiftly, but his faith still remained.

“Lord almighty…” David was at a loss of words of what he bore witness. The same can be said for Isaiah too.

“He wasn’t just our Anchorite…” Tomos shook his head as he clutched the corpse's body, holding onto what faint traces of warmth Ebrahim had left before it faded away. Yet through his grief, Tomos eyes caught a suspicion.

“Where are his keys?!” Tomos shrieked. “The keys to the vault?”

Tutoria also noticed her brother’s castings.

“Out of my way!” Tutoria stood up and pushed the Rangers away. “The Vault… the Vault… the Vault!”

“Tomos this place has a vault?” David asked.

“It is where we keep our most sacred treasures. Come.” Tomos beckoned them along. “They better not have plundered it too!”

The Rangers followed the twins along, journeying deeper into the defiled monastery. The deeper they ventured however, any hopes of the Vault that which these Sarenite Apostles had hoped lay incorrupt faded with each step closer. Descending down a flight of stairs, the four entered into a Catacombs that too was not spared by the Cult’s ransacking. Tombstones, mausoleums and even burial urns lay open with their desiccated remains coating the ground in their ashes and dust as Tutoria and Tomos led the Rangers into the Vault.

And the door was wide open.

“They took them… they took them all.” Tutoria collapsed to the floor, her heart shattered as her faith quavered into pieces. “All of our sacred relics… the Sandstorm… he has them now…”

The Vault was empty outside of the fallen key that once belonged to the Anchorite Ebrahim and the many emptied shelves that would have housed the Monastery’s prized treasures on.

“What kind of stuff you keepin’ in’ere?” Isaiah asked.

“Several Books and Scrolls mostly… the Light and Truth… Healing Treatises…” Tomos answered in place of her catatonic sister. “But our most prized relic however…”

The male Aasimar dropped into a cold sweat as he guided the Rangers to a long golden-hued pillow that sat atop a table.

“Habir’s Rod.” Tutoria muttered. “The Sandstorm took the Rod!”

“You’re failing me here…” David scratched his head confusingly, wiping off the dust from his hat away.

“You really aren’t from around here, aren’t you?” Tomos turned to David. “Habir’s Rod of Cancellation. Once wielded by a Saint of this very Monastery to fight evil Spirits, Demons and Witches.

“With the Staff in his possession, he can become all powerful!” Tutoria wailed.

“Not until he attunes it Sister.” Tomos reminded her.

“Being a Nethysian, he should have no problem corrupting that Staff with his chaotic touch!” Tutoria snapped back.

“A Rod of Cancellation? Like… Magic Cancellation or something? Stops magic from going nuts?” David inquired.

“Yes, the Rod can be used to dispel almost any magic, disenchant any incantations or… knowing him… use it to siphon the loose magics that are spread out across the world to make him all powerful.” Tomos explained.

Isaiah tapped on David’s shoulder, his eyes percolating upon hearing about what this Rod is capable of.

“We coul’ use somethin’ like that.” He whispered to his ear.

Yet the Aasimar’s Ears were even sharper. Tomos’ sharp blue eyes darted piercingly towards these uncouth outlanders.

“How… DARE YOU!” Tomos condemned them.

First, they come to this Monastery oh so suspiciously just before a devastating raid that had practically wiped this sacred place off the face of Golarion and now they continue to desecrate Sarenrae’s name in vain further even after they had gutted her sanctuary off its treasures and guardians. These Outsiders knew nothing of their sanctities! For once, he and his contrapositive sister Tutoria were in unison over one thing.

And it was these Rangers who were ignorant philistines!

Tomos was just one moment short of fully unleashing his anger, the same as his sister now synchronically felt to rebuke these Outlanders for their incurious and selfish ways. But then he took a closer look at David’s annoyingly azure butterfly that always seemed to hover around him and Isaiah despite its companion’s chagrin. In his time living in his native land, he had never seen such a delicate yet regal creature before. Its wings shimmering not of its crystalline refraction of the faint candle lights from the catacombs, but as brilliant as the stars that dotted the night’s sky.

Tomos reached out his hand towards the Butterfly and the insect gently landed on his fingers. It’s playful flutters of its night-blue wings were comforted by the Aasimar’s presence despite all of the travesties it encountered. It was almost as if, silently, this little one was vouching for the good character of these vagabonds by its loyalty to stick around David despite his aversion to it.

“Blue Butterfly… Starry wings…Queen of the Stars… Desna!? Are you two Desnans?” Tomos asked the Rangers.

David and Isaiah were caught off guard by Tomos sudden swing of his mood. At first, they were readying to just dally here any longer run out of this Monastery and leave the Twins to fend for themselves in the Wasteland but when their ears caught the Aasimar say the name of their so called ‘Commissioner’, they opened their eyes and looked onto the Aasimar.

“I… uh… we have only been her Agents for like…” David lisped to explain their mission to Tomos.

“As soon as we got our asses ‘ere.” Isaiah cut to the chase. “Desna got us to help her out ‘mend the world’ by fixing all these ‘Wounds o’ Nethys’ or some shit. We kinda uh… thought that since this ‘Staff of Cancellation’ of yours could help… do all that ‘mending’… that and meeting some ‘Spherewalker’ man-person in Katheer too on our way.” He explained.

“You don’t act like Desnans.” Tutoria crossed her arms capriciously. Looking down head to toe and nodded disapprovingly at their get up.

“Well, I am sorry … but by the way she and all those Elysium Gods told me how to get our asses to Katheer right now until you Bird-Brains locked us up!” David snickered.

“Blasphemy! You lie!” Tutoria yelled, pulling out her sword.

“Sister no! Stop!” Tomos grabbed hold of her arm. “Please listen to me once!”

The Paladin paused, relaxing her muscles just slightly to allow her brother to speak, but it would take one wrong move from either Tomos or the Rangers part to have her descend back to her bloodthirsty stupor from earlier.

“If you at least focus more on your studies and less on beating the straw out of those practice dummies all day you would know of Desna more often. The Song of Spheres… that’s what’s her name right? She may not be as… rigorous as our Goddess Sarenrae, but as her friend, she and her followers they do what they know is the greater good…even if it may look… ‘eccentric’. By the Heavens Tutoria, we had a Spherewalker come here a week ago on her way to Katheer.”

“Wait, my Desna and your Sarenrae… are friends?” David furrowed. “And a Spherewalker came here earlier too?”

“It is a long story, some say Sarenrae and Desna are close friends who had helped each other out whenever they could, others say it is much more than that, but yes! Any friend of Desna is a friend of Sarenrae.” Tomos explained. “I can’t believe I was so blinded by my ignorance to not notice that Butterfly that flew around you.”

“You still don’t act like someone who follows the Great Dreamer though.” Tutoria shook her head.

“That loony broad set me up with that… AACHOO!!!” David sneezed as the butterfly hovered around him once again. “Set me up with that… butterfly and I can’t shake it off. She had me and my friend dump us here so we can find this Spherewalker who’s at Katheer. But you said it’s all just mud there.”

“They say amongst her followers, ‘You can never get lost chasing butterflies’… or in this case… the butterflies chase you.” Tomos snidely remarked amongst David’s amusing chagrins against the butterfly. “The Goddess Desna may have dropped you here to meet us. If you haven’t been here, me and my sister would have been slaves to the Sandstorms or much worse.”

“As for your destination Katheer though, I mean… it’s not… that bad there... my brother and I know there are some people who still live inside the old Capital after the Cataclysm. If I recall from what she said, those who still dwell within Katheer’s ruins had a small aquifer that was built out of city’s old aqueducts to keep the place running just a little bit but that’s all I have heard from them. It’s what keeps those folks alright despite the years.” Tutoria laid out her thoughts.

“Still, most people don’t go there. The place is practically falling apart.” Tomos added. “But that didn’t stop our Spherewalker.”

“Do you at least remember her name?” David pressed.

“I am afraid not. But I cannot forget about what she looks like. She held on her back Mandolin and her purple headscarf around her top. She stood out amidst all the other rabble we saw pass the Monastery.” Tomos shared.

“A Mando—what?” David questioned the first detail.

“A kind of string instrument. Like a large lute.” Tomos explained whilst he demonstrated himself playing said instrument by twirling his fingers around and moving his hands up and down like one would play any stringed instrument.

“A kind of Guitar then? I see.” David confirmed his visual description of the Spherewalker.

“Is that how you call them? Okay…” the Aasimar carried on.

Find a woman who carries around a big instrument on her back with a purple scarf. Shouldn’t be too hard, assuming she loves to play it often. Most folks don’t lug around with such a heavy object on their back that isn’t some kind of weapon unless it is part of their profession, and David has to say, this Spherewalker Desna had sent them to must be either brave, foolish or very talented to have herself that Mandolin with her. The annoying little shit that was the Butterfly the Goddess gave him notwithstanding to help out.

“Well, that’s a somethin’… and I thought we gotta just book the hell outta’ere.” Isaiah leaned over the Vault’s wall.

“I heard that too!” Tomos reprimanded him. “But do tell me more… of your mission for Desna? Just so I know more of why you are in such a rush to go there in the first place?”

“Well… to start it, me and my friend here got plucked off from our world by Desna after some Cataclysm struck down here.” David inhaled deeply. “This may sound insane but what else is crazier than now? But my world… somehow got forcibly fused with your world. And that’s why we ended up here.”

“Wee-Help ferm’ pur-tee’ Butterfly Lady too.” Isaiah let out a bucktooth smile.

Tutoria and Tomos stepped back from the rangers and whispered amongst themselves as they gave wary glances to the Rangers. A nervous sweat fell down before both parties as the silence awed above them.

“So those rumors are true? There are more Outsiders coming to Golarion?” Tutoria answered.

“A ‘Conjunction’ as those passersby say.” Tomos added. “I just thought those were all just tall tales until now… then again… look at those.” He remarked quite tensely on David’s Gun and Isaiah’s Crossbow.

“So, there are people who have seen people like me too? What do they say about them?” David asked.

“I wasn’t able to learn so much, since it was Anchorite Ebrahim who typically greets travellers… if they weren’t captured by our Outriders beforehand. But they wore strange clothes and wielded weapons that clapped off a hundred thunderstorms… just like your stave there. I know that there are some of those folks who fit such descriptions amongst the Zho Mountains east of here.” Tomos explained, his eyes still curiously gazing upon David’s rifle.

“It’s a gun. It’s called a gun.” David answered.

“Oh, a firearm? Just like what they would make from Dongun? That’s interesting.” Tomos caressed his cheek, his eyes still glued towards David’s rifle, of which the Ranger holstered it away wanting to return to the conversation.

Those strange words again flew across David in a flurry: Dongun, Plains of Peresh, Zho Mountains and Anchorite. They’re enough to strain his old head of what he needed to keep track. Where could he get a nice whiff in a time like this?

“Desna assigned us to help ‘mend’ the world or so she and her God friends in Elysium fix this damn mess. We would have been off to Katheer right now if you hadn’t locked our asses up earlier.” David continued.

“Bang bang leadin’ to anotha’ a-and here we are!” Isaiah stretched his arms and yawned.

“So this Rod thing of yours? When my friend here told me ‘we could use something like that’ he thought we could use it to fix some of the magical ‘Wounds’ of Nethys that had spread about this world so we can help Desna fuel her magic spell.”

“The Gods, they haven’t forsaken us?” Tutoria’s posture relaxed as she sheathed her saber. A faint ember of hope reignited in her Paladin Heart. “This is… this is…”

“Interesting… very interesting…” Tomos gave a sanguine smirk. “This makes the most sense of all… but you still haven’t said how are you going to fix the Nethysian Wounds that litter our world right now.”

“Oh, that’s why we need to get to Katheer to meet the Spherewalker. She is supposed to help us. That and maybe the Rod too can help us close those Wounds.”

The Aasimar glanced again at the Rangers, further surveying what they had learned of them so far. The twins have to say, this conversation of theirs under more dire circumstances had produced far more palatable fruits of information.

“The Rod is gone unfortunately, but the Sandstorm and his band of marauders shouldn’t have journeyed far on their horses… but since it is about to be dark, they should not have gone far before they are forced to make up camp.” Tomos, in a cooperative tone, expounded to the Rangers.

“Either way, this Sandstorm fellow is gonna be worse off for everyone in this place with the Rod of Cancellation in his possession. We got to get it away from him.”

“Indeed.” Tomos nodded. “We must stop him together. And avenge this travesty.”

“Brother! Are we really going to trust these Outlanders?” Tutoria protested.

“Yes, and I know, sister. But it does not matter!” Tomos hailed. “They may not be of this world but they have Desna’s favor. She may not be as upstanding as Sarenrae, but Desna, just like her, accepts those who are capable of great good, flaws and all.” he awkwardly grinned his teeth towards them in a haphazard attempt to amend this fractious crossover.

“Don’t make me regret this…” the Paladin palmed her hand into her face.

“What other choice do we have, Sister? Let the Sandstorm eat all the magic until he becomes all powerful? We can’t let him get away with destroying the Monastery.

“No…” Tutoria pulled her hair, ruffling several of her feathers in anguish. “He… he should not have gone far not when he carried almost all of the Monastery’s sacred treasures with him.”

“So yer telling me we got a chance?” David nodded, a fortuitous smile escaped his lips.

“I saw him and his Wagons flee. Before me and my sister were captured, I saw him stack those wagons fat with everything he managed to take from our Monastery. He should not have been able to go far with such a haul.” Tomos informed them.

“The horses those Bandits had kept when they stayed behind. We can use them to pursue him.” Tutoria added.

“Well? What’re we waitin’ fe’r?” Isaiah eagerly grabbed hold of his Crossbow readily. “Let’s kill some real bad guys.”

“It's not like we got much of a choice here… alright prisoners…” Tutoria sighed.

“We have a name.” David rectified the Paladin.

“What are your names by the way?” Tomos asked them.

“I’m David. The big toothed man next to me, his name is Isaiah.” The Ranger gave out his and his partner’s name. His soft smile escaped his lips as the four, of two different worlds joined talents together as they made their way outside.

Their target: the Sandstorm.

It seems their lucky stars are now turning around on the Rangers on Golarion finally.