A burning holy light beat its angered heart upon the desecrated Temple of the Sun’s Grace. The desecrated murals and stained brass linings shine anew with renewed vigor. A searing flame, not of indiscriminate tongues that leaves ashes but of a purificatory bellow of a power once thought lost now emerging to retake its rightful place. A fire that wards off those it considers its charges, but an infernal lash to those of its enemies.
“There shall be no forgivess!” Tutoria chastised all wickedness in her path. Ferally possessed by her faith as she tossed and turned everyone and anything on her path.
The young Paladin saw the holy siteof her Goddess be turned into a hideous parody of its mecca. The Temple was aspired to be a sanctuary that granted succor to all folks who seeked its compassion. From those of weakened faith, of those wayward pilgrims seeking inspiration and of those curious courts of gentiles, the Temple of the Sun’s Grace was opened to them all. To bear witness of Demons who sloughed themselves in its now polluted embrace whilst cruelly cracking the wills of those Mortal Souls, souls of Juvenile Spirits, the very epitome of snuffing away innocence away? The Paladin could only unleash her disgust.
“Stop her! S-S-top her!” Bogros the Satrap of Spoilation ordered his peons from his palanquin, a repurposed pulpit enchanted to carry his languid size.
Tutoria leaped into the fray, burning away the filth the Xoveronic Demons had proliferated upon their superfluous occupation with vengeful skill with the slash of her flaming blades.
“Whoever kills the birdie lady gets triple the Rations!” a Gargoyle tossed a pile of crude weapons and scraps of defiled food upon several of the Marauder’s many puerile thralls much to his frustration as the children froze fearfully after witnessing such a dazzling display of martial prowess from Tutoria.
“Fine! Maybe I if kill one of you… the rest of your snots will obey me!” the Gargoyle grabbed hold of one of the fearful children and held his cruel claws up high as the children cries raptured the monster for the readying atrocity…
The swift slash of Tutoria’s blade however, stopped the Gargoyle from laying another finger. It mewled to the ground before the Paladin just as quickly finished the monster off, sending it back whatever Hell’s it came from.
The children huddled together fearfully shaking upon the sight of Tutoria’s emblazoned form. Their dirtied bodies weakened through years of scavenging and abuse from the world around them. They looked at her… nay at the filthy food that was tossed so callously aside that she stood between them from.
Just as her Faith was Fire, so was Sarenrae’s Compassion. A soft smile loomed from the Aasimar’s lips kneeling to grab the spoiled food. It reeked of refuse, mold and flies upon the touch of her mailed gloves. Fighting back the guts of her tested fortitude, Tutoria retrieved her newly acquired Anointed Waterskin. Tilting the container gently on the rancid foodstuff with its holy water, the demonic taint dissipated. Now behold upon her now miracle-borne hands a fluffy piece of Flatbread, freshly baked from a sunny oven.
“Here.” Tutoria held out the piece of bread. Slowly inching herself towards the feral children who hesitantly looked at her. Such a Generosity, such Compassion was virtually inconceivable to their erring souls.
Then the one child that the Paladin had saved from being turned into a cruel example stepped forth. He took the piece of bread from her hands and lightly nibbled his yellowed teeth upon the bread. As his tongue met the bread’s leavened flesh and swallowed down into his throat. A ray of delight emerged from his eyes. He happily chowed down upon the bread with ingenuous haste. Being born upon the cruel life of the cold-dark world. It was if the very gates of Heaven descended upon his poor body to grant him what his weathered soul had been denied for all his life: Succor.
Seeing their fellow feral child happily eating the food encouraged them to approach the Paladin as their dirtied hands reached out for nourishment.
“There is plenty of that where it comes from.” Tutoria smiled as she turned around to consecrate the spoiled food with her Waterskin. She broke the purified bread and shared it amongst the children who happily ate their fill. Tutoria’s heart warmed to be the giver of compassion to these poor souls who doted upon her armored visage no longer of fear but of requited adulation.
“You! What have you done to my food!? My army!?” Bogros yelled down from his lofted safety above.
“They are no longer yours Demon!” Tutoria huddled the children behind her to protect them.
“I will tear you to pieces! And drain your blood for wine!” Bogros vengefully stomped the arm of his palanquin, his gargantuan strength splintering it.
[-]
(Fight through the Temple whilst Navideh shows a surprising display of battle prowess for the more overly protective David to witness with her Guiding Star Starknife)
“They are throwing… Shit at us?” David hid below a tall pillar as he and the Sarenites broke through the inner barricades of the Temple.
The Filth Drinkers redressed the sudden breakthrough of their initial defenses as the Crusaders pushed them deeper and deeper into the desiccated sanctums. The fighting dithered into gripping hand-to-hand combat and the tossing and turning of all grabbable objects amongst their foes. At first it became rocks and other small furnishings until the Demons sordidly began to throw their unholy excrement towards the pure-whitened robes of their hated adversaries.
“Do not dally to long in its stench! You might lose your stomach.” Tomos plugged one of his nostrils as he inhaled from the other, a small pial from his pouch. He then passed the container to David as he urged him to follow suit.
The pial’s liquid evershifts of a pallete of many colors yet emitted a extrinsic scent upon his nose.
“Gah… fucking hell… what is in this?!” David gagged.
“Panacea made from a sewer monster. I need you to focus outlander!” Tomos answered as he passed the pial to the other Sarenite Fighters with them. “We need to find my sister.”
With the sickening skirmishes that the Filth Drinkers had desperately assailed them with counteracted, the fighting soon shifted towards the Sarenite’s favor. Pushing the Demons back until they are just short of the inner most sanctums of the Temple of the Dawn’s Grace. Before them was a hall that seeped with polluted water through the bottom of their doors.
“Purge everyone of these Demons from the Temple!” High Priestess Kamala ordered. “Do not allow anymore of these servants of Xoveron to pollute the Ablution Chambers any longer!”
“A-Blue… Excuse me?” Merizi questioned.
“Ritual Washing.” Tomos guffed. “Nobody likes a smelly pilgrim. E-Even if they travelled a thousand miles here.” The Aasimar Alchemist druly gagged.
“Be careful, this is where the real fight starts.” David ordered his fellow friends as he stacked behind one of the doors.
He knew that the Filth Drinkers are cornered like rats escaping their Exterminator now that the Sarenites have begun their full sweep of their Temples. But if there’s one thing he knew about cornered rats, is that when they see no hope of escape, they will start to enact the unthinkable. He has to hurry, less the Satrap of Spoilation attempts to do such an act to snatch victory from the jaws of his humiliating defeat.
“Staahh---ooop hiiieeemmm!!!!” Bogros yelled from behind the door just as David and his companions breached through.
An electrical current zapped around the Veteran Ranger, a lightning quick magical force lassoing around his waist. Knocking him off his feet. Gravity had turned against him as he met face to face with the hideous visage of the Temple’s reprogrammed Warding Rune and the Toad-like Hezrou Demon, Bogros the Satrap of Spoilation. The villainous despoiler had dragged him deep into the very heart of the Temple. And also, the very cancer that threatens to devour Katheer.
Before David lays a towering statue of Sarenrae. It was heavily defaced through a bedraggling construction of wood, mud and other vile adhesions to revise the angelic woman into the winged enrapture of Xoveron, the Lord of Gargoyles and Ruins. At the base of the statue lay the source of all of the maddening anguish Golden Katheer was forced to endure. A cerulean serration that fissures reality around it:
A Nethysian Wound
He attempted to wriggle out of its entangling grapple by shooting the Magical Creature with his rifle but Bogrus clamped him down by thrusting his slime-coated dagger onto his abdomen. The shock of such pain disarmed and weakened him as he clutched his wound. Taking advantage, the Filth Drinker’s Leader pulled away Saint Habir’s Staff from his back.
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“I do not know you… but I knew of the former owner of magical staff you wield!” Bogros held the Rod of Cancellation on his putrid paws. His disgusting grime slowly cracking the staff with his decadent touch. “When I am done with you… I will tear this wound wide open. And all Golarion will be despoiled by my Master’s Rancor!” the Hezrou cackled.
With the callous wave of his magically casted arm, he ordered the Living Rune to finish David off.
“Outlander!” yelled Tutoria’s voice from beneath the darkness. Like single burning shooting star, the Neophyte Paladin charged into the fray.
She slashed her way through the Living Rune and Bogrus, each an arm off from them that held David and the Staff of Habir successively.
“You!” Bogros scowled at the interloper who dared to interrupt him in his hour of victory.
“Minions! Minions! Father needs you!” he cried for help… but only a disappointingly miniscule number of thralls came to his aid. “Wha--- Where are they?! I commanded Legions! Not this paltry company?” he yelled at the Paladin.
“Liberated thee from the chains that bound your unscrupulous allies unto thee Demon! You will no longer further enthrall those of lesser fortunes unto your cruel whims!” Tutoria held out her flaming scimitar, bright as the morning dawn towards the Hezrou.
“This is the Healing Flame’s sanctuary! Even if you defile her holiest temples, she smiles upon those who kept her faith alive. We will not allow you to taint this sacred place any longer!” High Priestess Kamala lead her Mujahadin to lend their aid to Tutoria. Their hearts rekindled with a burning hope by the valorous aspect displayed by the Neophyte Paladin.
It was if Sarenrae herself had come down upon their hour of need.
The Sarenites charged forth, clashing away Bogrus and his remaining Demonic brethren as the Satrap of Spoilation pulled himself back behind his Host to lick his severed arm.
“We are both Heaven’s servants regardless where you come from Outlander.” Tutoria turned to the wounded Ranger David. Handing off the Staff of Habir onto his hands. “I need you at full fitness.” She looked down upon David’s wound superciliously.
“You think I ain’t trying?” David turned his head away as he spat out his own blood.
“Lack ye faith?” Tutoria paid no heed to the old man’s disgruntling cough’s as she gently glided her hands unto David’s Wound. “Have some of mine.” A small flame flickered from the Paladin’s hands as she lay her Aasimar palms onto the putrefying wound of David created by the Hezrou.
David shivered his teeth as he readied to take in some bitter combat medicine into his having grown rather haphazardly accustomed to Stimpacks and Buff-Out to ease whatever attritions the Ranger endures. Yet as the flames touched his body, instead of a searing heat, he felt a warmful… if not motherly touch that gently expelled all injury away.
“H-Hey? You… H-how?” he looked onto his healed body with amazement.
“Only we together can save Katheer, Outlander.” Tutoria answered. “Now on your feet! I need you to use Staff on the Wound. I will hold them off.” She readies her fiery scimitar.
David stood up and grabbed hold of the Staff.
“You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. David…” The Ranger muttered to himself as he stared down upon the Nethysian Wound.
The extra-dimensional tear on the fabric of reality bleed raw magics from its leaks like a broken glowing azure Neon Light. It sat at the foot of the deface Sarenite Statue made in the image of the Lord of Gargoyles whose blackened wings heralding the end of all civilizations amidst its realized flight. Echoes of the Abyss whispered temptations and vile truths amongst David’s ears as he steadied his heart and set the Rod of Cancellation down upon the temple grounds. The Ritual to heal the wound begins.
It was all or nothing.
“You idiots! Do not let that humie close the Wound!” Bogrus rallied his minions.
The Demons roared in rapturous unison as they flood with every shrivels of their inhumanity towards the Mortals. The Sarenites and the Rangers stoodfast against them as the now cornered Demons fought with greater ferocity as their eyes aimed towards the wound.
One Demon managed to break through the defenses and with their accursed magicks, they casted a vile cantrip that disrupted the Ritual as the Wound began to slowly inflate.
“Call for Reinforcements!” the horned infernal shouted.
Several red and devilishly-like demons emerged from the wound to flank coalition of Sarenites and Desert Rangers. Aiming their spears at David who couldn’t let go of the Staff less the Ritual be fully stopped, dooming them all.
But just as the Demons inched their weapons towards him, a glinting star ripped across from his left against the monsters. Their heads and bodies bisected from each other as they fall dead onto the ground before dissipating back to whence what warped space they came from. Turning around, David saw the Bard Navideh receiving from her hands a star-shaped oversized shuriken caught mid-air like a mere frisbee to her. She smiles and nods along with her faithful blue butterfly fluttering along. Her Faith a beacon of light in this slowly encroaching darkness around them.
“¡Tócate los cojones!” Raul Tejada cussed as he reloaded his revolvers. “Do any of you guys hiding any other fantasias powers that we can use right now?! Cuz’ Puta Madre! We can use more right now!” he cocks the hammer of his gun and fan fired rapidly at the imminent horde.
“Playtime is over now! I am going to have to finish this myself!” the Satrap of Spoilation put his hoof down. He heaved away his own thralls and Mortals alike so that he can end this annoyance once and for all.
“No further Demon!” Tutoria blazingly stood in his between him and the Wound. At the Darkests of Hours, she will not be found wanting. For it shall erupt the Brightest of Light.
The Hezrou’s gargantuan size was of a Gorilla enraged that his territory had been breached by interlopers. Bogrus screamed and flailed his bullish arms wide at Tutoria who used her superior agility to weave around his barbarous attacks. He let out a gaseous stream from his orifices to befuddle his foe as his eyes emblazoned with murder. Force now into the defensive, the burn-bright Neophyte did not take heed of her footing as she tripped upon a few piles of loose rubble. Her serrated scimitar falling away the light of her angelic flames slowly flickering to the edge of wretched tribulation.
“Now I will snuff out this little angel of hope of right here and now!” Bogrus let out a great guffaw.
“That stench!” Tomos sickeningly cussed. Using the cloth under his shemagh to cover his nose and mouth
“A sword! I need a sword!” Tutoria screeched desperately amidst the haze as she crawled away in search for a weapon. But was grabbed hold by Bogrus who opened his large and disgusting maw. Reeking of digestive juices and the scat remains of mortal he cannibalized upon the gaps of his many teeth. With the flames dying down within the Aasimar’s body, it was safe enough for the Demon to grapple her with just one hand of his humongous claws.
Even with the fumes and his mask covering his ears, the Junior Ranger Tomos knew that his twin sibling was in grave danger. Picking up from his pocket was perhaps the one long shotted hope he got. The Flare Gun that David had plucked off from the trap earlier on approach to the Temple. It still had its singular round of ammunition awaiting to be unleashed. He wanted to learn more of this weapon’s fascinating alchemical compositions but he would not compromise his dearly beloved sister for his own curiosity.
“Sis!” Tomos cried as he aimed the Flare Gun at the Satrap of Spoilation and pulled the trigger.
Like a shooting star, it burned across the hallway like a Single Burning Light filled with the crusading zeal of its owner. The Flare landed upon Bogrus’ mouth, searing the Hezrou Demon tongue as it erupts into flames. He let go of the Paladin as he desperately grips his now inflamed mouth.
“Fire! Fire! Quench this Fire inside me!” the Hezrou cried for his remaining Thralls to his aid.
“Here.” Tutoria caught her breath before smirking slyly at the Demon. “Have some Water!” she grabbed hold of her Consecrated Waterskin and splattered the Demon’s glutinous mouth.
The Holy Water the container housed seared the infernal outsider’s mouth much worse than what a single burning flare could.
He screeched and kicked childishly in pain forgetting his infernal anger upon the imminent threat of the Wound closing than his own selfish cries for relief. An opportunity that gave David the few precious seconds he needed.
“Fuck. Off.” David gritted his teeth as the Staff of Habir’s anti-magical energies closed the Nethysian Wound.
But not before a vortex of energy began to siphon away the remaining Demons back into the wound as they were forcibly banished away back to the very Abyss they came.
“Curse you! Curse you Rangers!” Bogrus yelled as his body dissipated into evil lights as it was vacuumed away to the Nethysian Wound.
The extra-dimensional tear fully closed as the deface Statue of Sarenrae drama cogently shook off its demonic wolf’s clothing to reveal her old but true Golden Angelic self. Before unleashing a holy flash of light to signify its purity within the Temple of the Dawn’s Grace.
“Praiseth be!” Tutoria sang ardently as the flames that blessed her body blazed even brighter.
As the flash dimmed down, to the amazement of the Sarenites and Rangers, the filth that littered the temple became cleansed with one searing wave of light from the miraculously restored Sarenite Statue. It could not necessarily ‘heal’ the rubble from the deface land marks but with the Demonic Taint fully purged, there now arise what was thought lost in ever since the cataclysm: Hope. The Hope to Rebuild.
As if the add more to this retributive catharsis, the Acidic Storm clouds that had battered Katheer for countless moons had also dissipated away. Letting out what was five years of absence, the golden glow of the sun. Now its warm rays shining down on the damaged but still standing city.
“Praiseth be indeed! Dawn has returned to Katheer!” High Priestess Kamala raised her arms in jubilation. Her fellow Mujahadins following her in elation.
“It is over… It is finally over…” Tutoria knelt letting go of the Flare Gun and took a deep breath. “Benificient Dawnflower, I have walked through the shadows of the Valley of Evil… and I am found… unmarred.” She gave thanks as her body cools from the burning passion her fiery smites had tolled unto her tired body.
“Sister…” Tomos approached his twin.
“Please brother… allow me to my meditations…” Tutoria huffed meekly as her body limply loosens.
“No not that… it’s just… your… uhm… back is…” Tomos gulped awkwardly eyeing his brightly flickering sister.
“Your shirt is still on fire.” Isaiah bluntly pointed out.
The Paladin’s eyes widened as she smelled the the ash and searing lick of the flames that somehow remained in her attached to her after her fiery display earlier. She leaped up and ran out of the Temple diving wildly to the nearby Azure Canal to quench the fire.
“Wait sis no!” Tomos reached out his hands from the bridge just short of him grabbing his sister. “You don’t know how to swim!”
“Relax Land Lubba… I’ma gonna gett’er.” Merizi dropped her Piercing Wind Jezail and dived from the bridge into the Canal. “I ain’t letting you drown!”
She effortlessly grabbed the sinking Tutoria and dragged her to the banks with her Azarketi’s affinity with all things aquatic.
“Blech! That water filter better work soon. I rather die of thirst than swim in their again.” Merizi coughed away the still somewhat dirty water that the dilapidated Azure Canal still contained.
Tutoria coughed water from her lungs before finally drawing a calm breath once again. Her passion may had subsided now within her, but deep inside, she knows that burning fire would once again erupt when the darkest hours happen forth again.
“So that’s what swimming feels like?” Tutoria breathed through her nostrils before cracking a wide grin. “Let’s do that again!”
“Oh, come on sis!” Tomos pulled several pink and jade strands of his hair.
“Maybe next time… you ought to learn how to swim.” David shrugged.
“Eheyo… I volunteer.” Merizi smiled, joining in on the cheer.
A smile escaped the former Pirate’s lips.