Chapter 1.7: A Reflection of Angels

“Life”, he sighs as the padlock falls on the ground. The key disappears into thin air, together with the other locked chests.
Oslando stands up again and looks down at the chest. His companions gather around, curious what the unlocked box is hiding. They all see a bright and deep blue wand with six wide white stripes around it. It’s two feet long and has a knobbly end but a smooth beginning, making it easy to hold.
Lyssa takes it out, just able to wrap her hand around it. “What is this curious treasure?”, she asks, tilting her hand and turning the stave around.
(Religion 15)
With one quick look at it, Alexander knows exactly what she’s holding. “It’s a wand of healing. In the beginning of our civilizations, healing powers were preserved for those speaking for the gods: clerics, monks, paladins, all those kinds of do-gooders. As corruption didn’t exclude these weaklings in its all-consuming grasp, they became greedy. They started selling these wands to the people, earning money on their poorly treated diseases. The white stripes mark the charges of the wand. After depletion, they are pretty worthless, encouraging the mob to keep spending money they don’t have.”
Bruq looks at him with a cheeky smile. “I know you could do it”, he smirks. “You spoke five whole sentences without being a total dick to us!” All but one laugh out loud.

“You’re going to hold on to it?” Oslando observes the dangling rod on the left side of her belt, recounting the six white stripes and deducing the six charges of healing they have to spend.
“Maybe it’s wise for me to keep it, because you’re probably at the front line of battle, together with Bruq. While Mero and Alex cast spells, I have my hands free for healing, since my voice is my weapon.”
He agrees with her practical logics and walks to the door.
“Don’t use abbreviations of my name as if we are on a friendly basis.”
Bruq smiles to himself as Alexander says this, realizing the cleric’s helpful attitude couldn’t last forever.
“And what makes you think I’m not at the front line? I’m a warpriest. I bash skulls in myself instead of praying my enemies will die. It gets the job done faster.”
“Good point, Alexander”, the satyr says and he looks over at Oslando, whose hand wraps around the handle of the door. “No traps, right?”, he asks anxiously, stopping the half-elf’s motion.
(Perception 18)
He observes the handle and the post, but he sees nothing to worry about. “Don’t think so. Everything looks normal.” He opens it slowly and stops when it’s ajar. They hold their breath, but everything is silent at the other side. He opens it completely and steps in.

It’s a kitchen. Sitting on a chair, upper body on the table with arms spread out, they see the same thing as when they entered the church; another dead acolyte. The same kind of red crystal has pierced the backside of his robe, penetrating its way into his organs.
“Unfortunate”, the cleric mumbles. The bits of food on his plate have gone bad and grey mold has covered more than half of it. Many of the drawers are halfway open and cutlery, pans and plates are scattered around, as if they were thrown around in frustration during a quest to find something.
“What a mess”, the captain says with a sigh. “Don’t think to we have much to do here.” She moves to the next door, followed by Merodius, while the others stop next to the corpse.
(Perception 16)
“Also dead, without a doubt.” The half-elf wipes his hand clean against his pants. “No point in using the wand, I presume?”
The priest shakes his head. “No. Healing and resurrection are very different from one another. One reverses damage, the other reverses death.”
“Indeed”, the puppet says. “It’s evocation versus necromancy. Completely different.”
(Perception 13)
As the sorcerer wants to continue his explanation, he stops talking and raises his hand. “Stay quiet”, he says with a hushed tone. “I can hear something behind the door.”

(Stealth 19)
Lyssa carefully opens the door. They can hear two voices speak, one male and one female.
“I think I have nearly cracked the secret of the mirror, master”, a woman's voice echoes throughout the main hall of the church. “Although its use is clear, we seem to be missing the five stones to make it fully function. With some more time I think I can manipulate the blood crystals to fit the cavities.”
Bruq switches to his bow and walks up to the door.
(Investigation 4)
“I don’t know where they are exactly, but let’s use the element of surprise with our ranged weapons.” He opens the door a bit further and makes a step out of the room.
“Do you think I have time to spare, Rowynna? Do you think the angels aren’t planning the retrieval of their stolen relic? The answer is no. I need results.”
“But I have warded the church against angels, master. They can’t …”
“I know they can’t!” His voice thunders throughout the halls and startles the mysterious woman. “But angels have henchmen as well! They just rattle up whatever idiot will accept their “noble and worthy quest” and send them this way. We need to get back up.”
Lyssa draws her blunderbuss, Alexander a light crossbow and Merodius a slingshot.
“I’ll try to get a visual on them”, Bruq says, his bow at the ready. “If they spot me, we can all just start shooting immediately.”
They agree and the satyr leaves the room first, back against the wall, and peeks around the corner.