What's a little girl doing with a spell component pouch? 

Funny enough, not that Kithran would know, but having already been ambushed from above by Morgana earlier that day, yes Aranwen's eyes would be especially on watch of the roof line too while Mosic rested. 

Running would be in line with Aranwen's request of everyone else - to survive 

Re: freeform horror with a D&D [puppet]... 

Morgana pauses and wonders who is talking about her... 

In the unwritten path, a path where Aranwen and the party were successful in reaching and subduing Davena, Aranwen would have asked Ch'dau and the others to stay their blades, so she may have spoken with Davena.

She would have asked her if this was truly what she wanted. To die the pawn of a parasite with no will of her own. Aranwen would have tried to appeal to her - she knew the flame Davena held inside of her, hidden deep beneath detached actions and words. She would have offered Davena to go with her. That even she might yet be saved, somehow, and live the remainder of her years with some level of peace. 

Naive, almost undoubtedly, but it is what Aranwen would have offered to her, having seen the extent of the scars she bore. 

If Davena had refused, Aranwen would have, regretfully, taken her life then. She would've chosen it to be her own hand and blade to do the deed of killing a subdued opponent, knowing that to do such might not have sat well with the others' personal feelings/codes. Aranwen would have been shaken in doing so, but because it was in line with one of her oaths, she would have been okay. 

Yet, as we know, such did not come to pass.

This is what Aranwen was talking about when she told Davena "it didn't have to be this way" 

I know that I'm very happy to have known Aranwen, and that wouldn't have happened if not for this game. It's been a pleasure writing for her, to partake of her journey. However, I can safely say that several years ago I wouldn't have been able to handle it.  

It has been quite a ride. I am glad to have shared this experience with everyone. Though I would also advise against this style of story in the future - it takes very sturdy and devoted players to be willing to write a bad ending without feeling as though the investment was a waste. 

On a related note...

Aranwen has been fighting with survivor's guilt for thirty years before the last - for her to survive now, with all that has happened... That is the last thing she wants.

Yeah... 

... She cannot act on the impulses she feels right now

I did know why Kithran did what she did.

Just as I know what Aranwen would do if she could move... And it is not pretty

I had a feeling I knew what was going to happen. I knew, for one reason or another, it would be Aranwen's last song. Either she failed, in which case she likely wouldn't live to sing again, or she'd be successful, and throw away her sword for the pain and suffering she caused to people following it.

The oath that broke with her heart's blade was the oath that she'd care for Kithran as her own child, however she could even if she was never to admit it for Kithran's comfort. To fill the place of the woman who abandoned her. Even through the haze of stun, she could feel when Kithran stabbed Ch'dau. In that instant, in her heart, she knew there was no way to salvage that oath. She failed to uphold the same oath that Saeriel had made, an oath to protect.

If she should be able to move once more, she will do the only thing she thinks she might yet have a chance to - to strike Davena down, regardless of her own safety. No more song; she lost it, all she has left is the cold steel in her hands.

Too many.

There were just too many.

Aranwen watched as one by one lives were thrown before her blade. Every step she took was at the cost of her own life; for every cultist she cut down, another wounded her. Still she sang. Still she cried. Still she pushed herself onward. All she had, whatever remained of the many, many years she had yet to see, she put it into every step she took.

Then she had a clear view to Davena. Her golden eyes were chilled with cold fury, but Davena raised her hand, having ample time to prepare, and let loose the spell she held.

For a moment, all she knew was darkness, darker than blackest pitch. Aranwen felt her life leaving her body, and fell. It was all she could do to keep herself and the blade she carried from hitting the floor. The sounds of battle faded in her ears, and her vision went cloudy. She heard a gentle breeze through a forest, as if she were half asleep. She felt the sun upon her unmoving body.

And the world came back into focus as she realized the light she felt was brought to her by Cedric. Cedric, who was now far too close for Aranwen's liking.

No. You must survive. You all must survive. Even if I should not.

Aranwen pushed herself to her feet, crying out even as she felt her throat protest, her song echoing in the hall back into her ears.

Sae, please help me.

She fought, and danced, the blade in her hands shining with red from the blood it bore. Finally, finally she reached Davena. Her song stopped.

"It didn't have to be this way."

Aranwen's vocals burst forth anew from her lips, resonating with their own echo as she brought both of her hands upon the hilt of her blade as she slashed with all the strength she could muster. She took no pleasure or satisfaction in seeing the blood drawn from Davena's body. Would that it were enough to fell the woman.

Aranwen's song faltered as she cried out, feeling herself blasted once again by magic. Thankfully, it was not so strong as the first hit she had endured.

Davena's own face was a mixture of shock and fury at having been actually harmed. She wove a spell before Aranwen, and the song faltered on Aranwen's lips.

Everything seemed to happen as if she were watching from afar. She couldn't move, she couldn't feel, her mind a foggy haze as she stared ahead. She watched as Ch'dau came to her aid. She watched as he dealt a grievous wound to Davena. She watched as Kithran ran him through with her old blade.

Her eyes, already distant with the fog of her mind, turned flat. Her oath, unspoken but taken nonetheless, had come undone.

In her hand, the blade of her soul finally succumbed to the damage it had sustained, and shattered, leaving her holding only but the hilt.

Is this... how I die?

Not... not for you...

I kept... that promise... at least...

For what...?

... Nothing.

Perhaps it is a good thing Aranwen is stunned. If she's stunned she can't really feel how complete her failure is. 

Just look at that little troublemaker. Definitely plotting something

I wonder if I might have a streak of narcissism myself for making clips for Morgana's voice

Kithran might finally get to apply that five fingers discount at a clothing and tailoring store  

Both of these faces certainly match up with what I've been visualizing - bonus with Jovovich having short hair in that picture, that's not too dissimilar from how I think of Aranwen's hair. Though Aranwen's might be even a bit more rough and tumble so to speak.

By the way, doing a potentially very interesting collab with Breebles  

That is a very lovely sketch of our trio

Looking dangerous! Also Kithran looking for shinies to pick up, I'm sure.

Afraid I've no voices to provide at this time... Morgana speaking without her sound effect and trying to put together a voice for Spiderlily wouldn't work very well for me; the range of voices I can do is very narrow...

Besides which, it's just a completely normal human. Don't mind the fact that Morgana refers to her by a... strange title on occasion

Glad to help keep you awake

I was debating whether to withold that particular screen or not, but it's already posted so...

At least we learned Spiderlily's name!

Morgana slowly descended down the spiral staircase at the edges of her tower, her eyes distant in thought. A voice behind her gave her pause, "If you know where she is, and she hasn't moved in a while, you could reason that she's with your prey, couldn't you?"

Morganna nodded, looking over her shoulder to the tall, raven haired human woman behind her, "Indeed, Spiderlily; I do suspect as such."

"Then why the hesitation?" Spiderlily replied, lifting a slender finger to her chin as she kept the hem of her embroidered dress held in the other, "This is unusual for you," she mused, giving a sly smile.

Morgana gave a shrug of her shoulders as she continued her descent, "It's an unusual situation. If it were normal, I'd already be handing over the targets. No, these four... their spirits are far stronger than most. They resisted me, and now they are wary. Were I to make a move now, they would know what to do," Morganna shook her head and frowned, "No... if I am to succeed, it must be a move they don't know what to do with. I must be patient. Wait for the opportunity to present itself...

Though, I admit, I do wonder how worthwhile this venture may be. Adedre clearly underestimated them," Morgana added, stepping on to the lower floor hallway, "They also do not flee the city. That tells me that they yet have business there... vengeance, perhaps?"

"Perhaps so."

Morgana fell silent as she continued to walk forward, down another stairwell, and into a household proper. Bits of fabric and skeins of thread littered about every visible corner, but such didn't bother Morgana. She stepped lightly on the clear floor, moving up to a cupboard in her reach. Tightly woven threads unwound themselves at her touch, and she opened the wooden door, withdrawing a single skein from within. The multicoloured thread glowed a faint blue upon the metal spindle.

"What are you planning?" Spiderlily asked, looking over Morgana with idle curiosity.

"I'm not sure yet, my dear A'nia," Morgana replied, the glow of the thread reflecting in her eyes as she turned the skein around in her hands, "Truth be told, I am a bit impatient."

"That one called Aranwen knows your offer. Let it sit in her mind. Let it linger, and she will come to us eventually," Spiderlily cooed, placing a hand on Morgana's shoulder.

"Aranwen?"

Spiderlily and Morgana turned to the owner of the gentle, melodic voice - a red haired Sylvari woman with distant, violet eyes.

"Yes, Sae," Morgana gave a warm smile, "Just wait a little bit longer. You will see Aranwen again soon..."

Just imagining Kithran's face with her not liking hearing Shinara's name here, and can't help but think she looks kind of adorable like that

Nope, Kithran, she's not finished with you yet...

I'm getting some Morgana feels so there may be another look on 'the other side' coming... maybe

“Ah, I see why you were looking for a mask now! And you said you weren’t preparing for a party, Aranwen,”

Aranwen had given Kithran a quisitive glance as she saw how she had scrunched her face slightly, but at mention of Aranwen's search for a mask, Aranwen shook her head, "It wasn't for this. Morgana gets her clients somehow... and I think one of the ways she does it is by having one of her masks act as proxy. I thought, if I could get one of her masks..." she frowned, "Well, I hadn't figured out what I'd do with it. It's not like stabbing it would kill her."

* * *

Kithran nodded, “A little reconnaissance wouldn’t hurt. I know the insides of the manor fairly well, it is the guard outside I am truly wary of.” She looks back up at the bladesinger, “I am sure you were fairly preoccupied before, but can you remember about how many you faced when you stormed through the front gate last night?”

"Not many, at the time I barely saw any. Perhaps a generous count would put it at a dozen on patrol if I were to estimate more than I saw; but then, with what you told me, most of them would have been inside searching for you at the time, so I can't truly be certain of the numbers here," Aranwen replied

* * *

Aranwen couldn't help but giggle at the suggestion of going over the wall, "I apologize," She offered, "It seems I've grown so accustomed to the streets and paths made by people, it didn't even occur to me that such a thing would be possible."

She paused a moment as she considered, "No, we should not split up. Splitting up is what Morgana would want us to do, as we've already seen. She always has another puppet in play; when you think she's made her move, she has something else in play. It's impossible to read her movements with those constructs."

That's why we failed, all those years ago... we didn't know there were more than one, Aranwen grit her teeth.

"I think we must move as quick as we are able; as strange as it sounds, we are most vulnerable outside of Adedre's keep than inside. Outside, Morgana will search for us and try to ambush us again, and we can't be certain of when or where she will strike. If we are inside, yes we deal with Adedre's forces, but those are mostly known, and much preferable to deal with than Morgana. So if we've the means, we should try to scale those walls," Aranwen reasoned, before looking to Ch'dau with a smile, "I never would have thought of such a course of action myself," she admitted.

I read the words but I don't know what they go to

As far as I can tell, it seems like a good strategy with the spells.

I'd vote to put the magic towards buffing the party beforehand. We don't have a grasp of the numbers we face, just the upper bound. It's true that if it was successful Hold would certainly buy us time to make it to the dais, but how easily we'll make it there regardless is a considerable unknown.

Now let's see how the dice fall...

EDIT: insert media didn't work so have a link instead

They arrived at the hall, taking but a glance inside to first get a sense of what they had before them.

"Not much to it," Aranwen whispered, "Some won't get in our way, whether they are incapable of battle and run, or are sided with him. The only way we'll know is by leading the charge. Conserve your strength; let those that flee do so, and only fight those that block our advance. We will need all the strength we have left to deal with the priestess and the devout," she looked from Cedric to Gib to Ch'dau, "Kill her, break their morale, and you must survive."

It wasn't supposed to be like this. She couldn't help but feel that everything had gone so wrong. The only time she felt more uncertain was thirty one years prior. But in the here and now, it didn't matter how sure of herself she was. She looked in the eyes of those three with her, the weathered warrior, the warpriest, and the kind cleric. It didn't matter if they wanted nothing to do with her after this. All that mattered right now was to win, and for them to survive.

"For Kithran."

Entering the hall proper, Aranwen nearly stopped in her tracks as her eyes met Davena's. Her face twisted with emotion, and her hand shook. She knew, but she didn't want it to be true. She even had a suspicion deep in the depths of her fears what dark purpose they had taken Kithran for. Why would the dead crave such a thing as a long forgotten pleasure, unless it was done on purpose? Ever since that fateful night, she knew, deep down. And now, her eyes told her exactly that which she did not want to be the reality, and emotions stormed within her. Disappointment, fury, pleading, disgust, hatred, resignation... Aranwen's face did not stay still, and her lips opened as she drew in a deep breath.

The first chord of her song was deep, almost matching the chanting within the hall, before it lifted into a crescendo as she advanced, blade steadied with the strength of her song. Despite the tears falling from her cold, golden eyes, and the hurricane of emotion inside of her, she sang and moved with a certainty of purpose. The certainty that comes of acting in fulfilment of an oath.

(Aranwen is going to do what she can to draw attention to her advance along one side of the hall, making an otherwise direct line for Davena. She will prioritize cutting down ghouls if they move forward to defend Davena, knowing that she has to kill them to keep her friends safe from their paralysis.

... make safe the path ahead for those who would follow...

If the hall moves in to obscruct her movement, she hopes that it at least results in a clearer path for Ch'dau and the others to have a direct line to the dais)