It had been an hour, maybe more before their ranger returned with the herbs requested, at least, some of them anyhow. Mae'rel didn't know exactly what she was going to be able to do against this affliction with things that only treated your standard fungal infection, but she hoped that she could buy time if nothing else, and so that was exactly what she moved to do.

Approaching Ruadhiri, she gave a subtle nod of her masked face. It was poor bedside manner, in many's eyes, to hide your face from someone you were tending to. And yet, it was both part of her identity as a healer, her anonymity, her vow to keep the good she did associated not just with Lady Lysora, but with the concept of empathy as a whole. When people thought of Mae'rels deeds, she didn't want their thoughts to be of her. Master Ignacio always said that if that was the case, you had failed. That by keeping yourself as simply a messenger of good, others would pass that same good along.

When their horned warrior prepared himself, Mae'rel applied a slight numbing agent, a remedy of some non-local herbs, which she always kept a bottle of. It was almost like a gel, as opposed to a thick plant concoction. Of course, once she pressed the heated blade against his itching wound, it did very little to help the pain, a hiss immediate, and steam shooting from the wound with a wretched smell. After properly cauterizing the area, she applied salt directly after, which would make the pain even worse, before finally applying the now orange poultice, made with the herbs that their Ranger had brought forth.

It would be difficult to tell immediately whether there was any relief. It could take minutes. Hours. It could even take days to see if it stopped or lessened. But if it took that long to see any improvement, that did mean that, at the least, it had prevented it from worsening.

The only other solution Mae'rel could propose was a fabled plant. Aranthea's Heart. A powerful healing flower, unassuming, made from the essence of one of the Blue Lady's very own servants, after she had passed. The flower wasn't quite mythical in rarity, but Mae'rel had never seen one in the wild herself. However, Master Ignacio allegedly had used some when he couldn't procure anymore miracles for Coria, to ease the illness on some of the many poor in those wretched slums. If nothing else, in some cases, it eased their passing.

She would look for it, where she could. And a description of it to their ranger wouldn't go amiss either.

(OOC: I have no dialogue brain right now so, Mae'rel will provide a description of the plant to Rosariel and Isilmewen. )

Mae'rel had dealt with fungal infections in the past. While it was true that a Cure Wounds spell did not heal these 'infections', getting rid of them was often quite simple. A combination of local herbs, salt, and heat would do the trick almost always, and when it did not, Master Ignacio used a greater miracle in order to cure them. Fungus were fascinating at the least, more similar to animals then they were to most plants, but they functioned different from both. She had always been interested in them, as many types were useful in healing, or at least, in health. Something like this though, she had never seen before. Most fungus couldn't survive in the body and if they could, the immune system kept them at bay, and a quick fever would kill them.

She contemplated her options. The location meant that, even desperate, amputation wouldn't work. The nearest cleric which could heal something like this also was likely too far if it was to keep progressing. The thought of a fully-controlled barbaric bull didn't exactly sit well either.. The best bet would be to cauterize the wound aggressively, and admittedly, painfully. Follow up with a generous application of salt, and a medical poulitice made from local plants. Keeping him in the sun or heat as much as possible after that would hopefully reduce the effects, slow the growth, or even kill the fungus until they could reach a cleric, if they hadn't been able to fully handle it.

"Madam Isilmewen. I do not know these lands as you do, but if I'm to slow this growth, I will need plants. I'm not certain, as I said, of what grows here, but I first will need either garlic, 'Ignixavo', or Shineleaves as a base. I'll also need common river moss, 'Eyndra' , 'Feyilux', and 'Naelinda'. If some of those aren't local, I can provide substitutes. Is this in your skillset to find?"

(OOC: Assuming our fair lady will find them, Mae'rel will provide substitutes if some of them aren't local.)

"My thanks. Ruadhiri, I'll need to cauterize the wound in order to slow, possibly even kill the fungus, then salt it. I'm not certain, your people have the phrase, but 'putting salt in a wound' is based in truth. This will hurt, though I trust your strength will not be thrwarted by myself and a bit of heat?" She offered a gentle laugh, the first she had actually made since she had joined this group, at least in their presence, hoping to bring the mood up.

(OOC: Assuming Ruadhiri accepts)

"Very well. Here, I'll attend to Madam Arathea. In the meanwhile, I suggest you should prepare. When our Ranger returns, we'll purge that blight from your wounds." Mae'rel vowed, before deciding it would be worthwhile to check in on their bladesinger, who was likely struggling still with her own wounds, which were also no doubt, difficult to heal.

"Your skill with a blade is quite something, Madam Arathea." She started, before contemplating her words, deciding that was perhaps not the best route of conversation. "I'm not sure.. if they have time for such things in the Royal Houses, but.. something that often helps me clear my mind is to look up at the Heavens. The stars. To think back on the good I have accomplished, rather then to think on my failures."

Mae'rel did not know the true, most deep value that a Bladesinger's legendary weapon meant to them. No one could quite understand this, even native Syls, she imagined. A bond so unimaginable, training so deep, only other Bladesingers could sympathize, and she imagined from what Arathea had told her, that most would not being willing to sympathize. Arathea was a noble, which meant the blade she bore was likely an heirloom, or very expensive, more than likely both.

The Blue Lady did not just specialize in healing the wounds of the flesh, though. Monks of her order also traveled and helped to heal the grief that the many peoples of the realm felt. A lost family member, friend, or even a pet, Mae'rel had many times consoled and eased the pain of people who felt the pain caused by Death. Never before had she healed a wound like this though. The pain Arathea must have felt, it caused a stinging within Mae'rels heart, but she decided she would do her best to provide a console. No words would be able to heal the wound their Singer had felt, but perhaps, an action.

Taking steps away from the group, Mae'rel took a deep breath in as she approached the Blade which lay on the ground. Retrieving a cloth from her bag, the Monk leaned down, before going to her knees, gently slipping the cloth beneath the blade. She wrapped it tightly, knotting it so that the sword would be fully covered. 

She stood once more, her hands gently gripping the cloth covering the blade. Mae'rel approached the Bladesinger, and spook, her voice gentle. "I know not words to ease your pain, Madam Arathea. For I fear there are none. Though I believe this blade still has many stories. A piece of history for your noble origin. You may not feel fit to bare this blade, but I feel, the last honor you may do this blade, is to return it to your people."

She did not offer Arathea the blade necessarily, more so presented it to her. The Monk did not know if she had just committed an act of heresy greater than the Bladesinger by letting the weapon touch the ground, or if she had offered the greatest honor the blade could now receive. And regardless of that, that was not what she was most concerned with.

Instead, the Monk just simply hoped to offer Arathea comfort. She simply felt that was best obtained via an honoring of the sword.

Mae'rel found her way between the swipes of the abominations, rather effortlessly, considering they were unaware of her presence thanks to Her Lady's cloak. The battle became chaos practically as soon as it started, the Bull charging into the monsters and furiously battling them, and the Bladesigner joining him. Behind lines, their Ranger found ways to make sure her arrows soared true, striking the man behind these monsters, and Dak was.. he was Dak, though he seemed to struggle to keep track of the Hermit at first. An orb of fire into the battlefield, no doubt the work of their Mage, scorched towards the man and his monsters, and she watched a faint blue glow wash over their foes, the work of The Huntress, no doubt.

Quickly the monsters and the Hermit showed the Monk they meant harm, it didn't take long for both the Bladesinger and the Barbarian to be injured severely, and so Mae'rel placed her hand onto Ruadhiri. Warm crimson seeped into her hands, the dark red soaking into their skins, and she muttered a prayer. Soon, she felt the flesh begin to join, the tissue begin to heal with a faint glow, and a melching sound that always accompanied it. The bull would no doubt feel as if he had flees after such an injury, but she was sure he would have preferred such itching to death. Just as she finished the spell, Mae'rel sought to back up, narrowly avoiding the rage-filled elbow that Ruadhiri pulled back as he viciously wailed into the abominations.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud buzzing toward them, and somehow, Mae'rel had missed the entry of three dog sized wasps into the battle. Three wasps came blitzing towards them, one of them splitting for Arathea, and the other two maintaining towards her and Ruadhiri. She took a step to avoid the beast targetting her, and thankfully, her Lady protected her, as for a moment, the monstrous insect seemed confused when she disappeared from it's view. As for Ruadhiri, though, the massive stinger pierced him, and not only was it like a sword, it was still a stinger. Undoubtedly inflicted by a venom, Mae'rel knew she would have to tend to that area after the battle, but unfortunately, her spells were for healing wounds and slowing poisons, there was nothing she could do to outright cure a venom such as that one, and slowing it would only delay the inevitable.

Mae'rel sought to seal the wounds of Ruadhiri again, knowing that the Bladesinger was struggling deeply, she internally declared this would be her last time, as she desperately needed to focus on Arathea. She quietly found Rosariel at her side, aiding her, and with that, most of Ruadhiri's wounds were sealed.

Unfortunately, that was when she heard the screeching. All she could muster was "Owlbears, from the treeline!"

Priority 1. is to cure light wounds on Arathea, then heal people who can benefit to the fullest (meaning little/no HP from the heal would be wasted, no using it on papercuts) for the rest of this sequence.

Priority 2, assuming people get stable enough (as in, no one is moderate health or lower) she can step away, is to cast Aid on our bull man to support him a little better.

Priority 3, if somehow heals and aid are finished, is to move in pursuit of the man, if he hasn't already been stopped/gotten away

I'll go ahead and make a fun post now

And it was true. Mae'rel never did negiotate quite as well, or speak as good, as she could heal. Even beyond The Blue Lady's blessing, Mae'rel was quite skilled, more than even an average healer without miracles, in healing wounds. Herb ointments, grafting, surgical workings, and suturing all being skills she used throughout her time assisting Master Ignacio, but he was the one who did any speaking to political figures or even the religious ones who were members of their church. She was, in a way, charismatic, but truly she was only appealing to those who understood her more, otherwise she often provoked, as she did just now. The old man seemed to take her words offensively, though if he was supporting inherently evil creatures, such as undead and owlbears, she wasn't sure she would have done things differently, even given a do-over.

(OOC: Casting sanctuary on self ASAP, hopefully before full combat breaks out)

Retrieving a small silver mirror from her bag, Mae'rel grasped the rose around her neck, and it's thornless stem, before uttering a quiet prayer as she passed the hand clasping the symbol in front of her face, and once her hand had passed infront of the mirror, she disappeared from view, at least to the creatures who were none the wiser. After that, she took a moment to actually analyze the situation. The ravens seemed to be with the man, at least to some extent, so it was possible they were a threat. As for the undead.. he clearly controlled them, though they were admittedly strange, different from normal stories she'd heard. This was her first time confronting such a threat, so she supposed that stories perhaps had just simplified the undead, but she'd never heard of fungus being involved. Master Ignacio would have been most intrigued by such creatures, after all, in his early days, he was an adventurer before a Monk, and so he had seen many things, including undead.

The man was obviously the largest threat, due to his loose mind, and his powerful magic, it was clear that it would be difficult to end the battle without pacifying him. She worried about the fungus covering the undead, if it possessed poison, or would allow the undead to pass it, which would be worse still. As such, she decided she would support the two fighters once again, as a spectre along the frontlines, unnoticed by any who did not sense her presence, and that she would trust her warriors to snuff out those who were aware of her interference.

So she prepared herself for chaos to begin, keeping an eye up and her hands ready to seal the wounds of her comrades.

Mae'rel had many times traveled the forest in her journey alongside Ignacio, but never had she traveled the forest and ended up in a place like this. The grove itself, while beautiful, hinted something was a bit wrong. Adoran's servants always guarded sacred groves as she'd heard, but they were beautiful, they were grand, filled with flowers and life. Instead it seemed like this grove wasn't even quite alive, like it was on it's last leg and grasping. Ravens were a bird associated with disease, after all, and death, and it seemed fitting that such a group of animals were the only noticeable life, outside the plants and the man.

The man himself was the biggest problem, more so than the state of the grove or anything else. If he had been nurturing owlbears and called them sacred, it was clear his mind had long since departed, and he was beyond any reason or healing. His appearance was rugged, and Mae'rel was under the impression he had long since abandoned society and tried to make himself one with nature. Perhaps in some ways, he had succeeded, thought it most certainly cost him.

He claimed himself a servant of Adoran by wearing that necklace, as judging by it's structure, it seemed something more than just anyone would wear, and his words reinforced this further, yet, she struggled to believe he was a servant. If nothing else, she struggled to believe he still was indeed a servant. His necklace was twisted and corrupted, not just worn down by time, it looked as if it at been mutilated, but how exactly that had happened? She wasn't quite sure. What she was sure of, though, was that this didn't look to be going in the correct direction. 

The Monk decided she would try to de-escalate the situation, and so she spoke to her colleagues, keeping her voice hushed, "This man seems unwell. I do not know what he wants, or who he is, but he seems to serve, or rather, served the Keeper of Seasons. His necklace is not right, it should not be ravaged as it has been, and this grove is not right either."

And then, the monk made herself known to the man, offering a bow. "My apologies. I am a servant of the Blue Lady, and I take it you serve Keeper Adoran?" 

(OOC: Assuming he confirms, read further down for if he denies/does not answer)

"We did not seek to disturb your grove" Mae'rel continued, "We only sought answers to the strange behavior of the Owlbears within the area. I sincerely apologize for any disturbance caused." She halted, hoping the man would explain the strange circumstances without her prompting further.

(OOC: ALTERNATE DIALOGUE if he denies/does not answer)

"Regardless of who you serve, even if yourself only." The monk paused, contemplating her next words, "We did not mean to intrude upon your privacy, and I apologize for any disruptions we may have caused. I ask only if you know anything of the owlbears which live nearby."

The conversation the clergy gathered from eavesdropping, even if unintentional, did not please her at all. Sylvari traveling into an Owlbear den made her think a couple things, but she still gave them the benefit of the doubt, hoping for an explanation. Sylvari openly traveling alongside the most vicious of creatures had far little explanation. Mae'rel was left with but one conclusion to draw, this person, whoever they were, was a wizard, who was almost certainly practicing magic in a way that was unfavorable to others. It seemed they had created these owlbears on purpose if they traveled into their nest, and alongside them.

The night was uneventful. Though she unconsciously found her way to the bladesinger once more by the campfire, offering a couple words. It was best if she formed an alliance with her allies, after all. "So what do you think, Madam Arathea? Surely this individual's intentions must be.. subpar to travel alongside an owlbear on purpose. At the least.. they're foolish and lucky. At the most.. they're breeding vicious beasts for some unclear reason."

[tag Arathea]

Mae'rel was no stranger to ravens and other black-feathered birds. Ravens were often treated as wicked, evil creatures, but the Monk knew better. Ravens were actually quite smart, cooperative, and compassionate creatures, as far as creatures went. She had a pet raven at a point, if it could even be called a pet. Though she had to admit, the behavior of this raven was strange, even for an intelligent bird. This failed to account for the bird's enormous size, and while it wasn't quite unnatural perhaps by a mage's definition, Mae'rel figured there must have been some tampering due to it's size.

"I’d suggest we proceed as if whatever we’re hunting knows we’re here… I’m no tactician, but we’re in unknown territory facing an unknown foe.” “Perhaps let the Cid scout this time.” The Mage said, and Mae'rel found herself agreeing with a silent nod. Her experience was limited, but she knew at this point, something was certainly off, between the Raven, the tracks, and the Owlbears.

Hm hm hm. Big bird, but not magical eh? Sounds like a wizard training a VICIOUS ATTACK BIRD!! I'll have mae'rels post up soon

Once Arathea had finished her explanation, Mae'rel offered a smile. "Thank you for all your explanations, Madam Arathea, though I must admit I still have a few questions, I suppose it's only fair you ask a few in return?" 

"What brought you to the Blue Lady if I may ask darling? You must share a devotion close in depth to my own, I am curious of your story." The Bladesinger questioned, and Mae'rel supposed she could offer an answer, though for now, she would keep the full details limited.

"When I was a young girl, plague came down on my town. Viciously. My family, what little I had, was destroyed, and I was left to die, as the clergy would rather have healed the rich. I met a man, who aided me and guided me. He was part of an order of Monks, like myself, who were sworn to help those not as fortunate. We often work closely with the Clergy of Falloes if we see them for that reason. Anyhow, he traveled alone, but he was looking for an apprentice, and so I joined him after he had showed me the way of Lysora. She was there, and so was he, for me, when I had no one else, when it was all gone." Mae'rel paused, hesitating for a moment, "And admittedly, I've committed many sins in my life. My Lady offered me forgiveness. A new beginning. So I took it to serve her."

The cave stunk, viciously. At first, her lavender mask prevented the disgusting smell from being so unbearable but now it induced gags. It reminded her of the cleanup duty she used to have back at home. Bodies sometimes didn't smell too bad, they were fresh, stiff, and troublesome to move, but often, it was days or even weeks after death, and she would find herself reeking no matter how hard she scrubbed. She still disgusted herself, the fact that she could ever hurt other people, even take their own lives, and yet, The Blue Lady would be benevolent enough to give her another chance. She would never question her Goddess. And yet, sometimes she wondered if she deserved that chance.

In sort, the stink of death was not a welcome familiarity. 

As they reached the core of the cave, Mae'rel found herself avoiding the various bones which were certainly human or demi-human, instead leaving that particular duty to those who were less disturbed by such a thing. That said, she found it peculiar that there were no young in the cave at all. She didn't know much about Owlbears, but she thought they reproduced often enough they should have found something, especially for this many, when they normally travelled mostly alone according to legend she'd heard. Four Owlbears and no young was strange.. and then she saw the footprints.

“Someone bred these creatures, and claimed their eggs.” their ranger stated. "Is it possible this could have been for wealth? Do Owlbears have any kind of valuable hide, or something the rich may view as a luxury?" Mae'rel inquired, hoping to understand the motivation of this clearly deluded Sylvari responsible for this.

Working on my post now. Expect it up by tonight.

Seeing her Bofir ally being torn into by the vicious beasts, and the Bladesinger face extreme challenges, Mae'rel debated internally for a moment, before charging forth, no longer able to delay herself. The healer was faced with steep resistance, the cave being drenched in slick red metal, which coated seemingly every surface of the floor and the webs, which themselves made it extremely difficult to move forth, nearly catching her at several points. The Monk finally almost lost her footing for good when she tripped on a stump of Owlbear flesh, which made her realize just how massive and dense these beasts were. If she had to guess, they were no less than a ton a piece, and that was being generous on the weight of these massive creatures. She evaded both friendly fury, and the beast's beak as she sought to reach her comrade, and finally, she evaded a swipe from the massive claws of the monster, before laying hands on her ally, which she hoped would not turn too fiercely on her.

Narrowly avoiding a strike from the Owlbear's massive set of claws, Mae'rel reached out to Arathea and uttered the words, "Let my Lady nourish you, my friend. Your body is strong once again.", seeking to identify herself as an ally so as to avoid any instinctive swing in her direction. On the bright side, she was not struck intentionally, but on the downside, the Owlbear continued to rip into her ally, making it very difficult for her to sustain the warrior, even if she was strong, and Mae'rel herself a powerful cleric. Lady Lysora's magic was powerful yes, but it was not meant for a priest of her renown to use as a way to outpace a vicious beast's hunger.

Stepping back now, Mae'rel sought to reach the Bofir who she saw was being ripped apart by the Owlbears in a way that made it very difficult to reach her. As she began to make for Ruadhiri, she stopped when she saw The Huntress lay her hands on the Bofir, instead deciding to focus on keeping the Bladesinger alive despite the dire condition she was in. The Owlbear was unrelenting, crushing Arathea, and Mae'rel heard the crack of bones and saw blood seep viciously from open wounds. In a controlled environment, one she was used to, healing these wounds was slow, elegant, so as to not induce pain or rapid symptoms, but in an environment like this? There was no time, and so Mae'rel channeled The Blue Lady once more, and mended Arathea's wounds, and under her hands, she felt the bones crack and mend themselves, a feeling that made her stomach stir.

Finally an arrow soared through the air, and Mae'rel realized as Arathea hit the ground, that the battle was over. She stepped back, looking at the damage that had been done. Quickly she noticed the Bofir, and while his rage would be terrifying to most, Mae'rel was more concerned about what it would do to him, his anger, it wasn't natural. Perhaps he was afflicted with a great wound, mental, or perhaps he was much a beast himself, and his anger was just that, unnatural in the way of beast. But regardless, Mae'rel sought to help. That said, she didn't want to distract the Huntress, or interrupt her efforts, once she had begun trying to calm the man, and so, she instead turned to Arathea, offering a small bow when she thanked The Monk.

"Of course, my friend. The Blue Lady shall always mend you; as her hand, it is my duty. You need not thank me, I only ask you to include her in your prayers." Mae'rel responded, her voice soft as ever, despite the foul stench of the cave that seeped into her tastebuds, and the hastened breathing between her words.


Soon enough, Mae'rel found herself back at the Bladesinger's side, after the unusually polite warrior offered her thanks not just to her Clerics, but the rest of the party for their support. Mae'rel didn't have much adventuring experience, but she was certain this was odd, that this wasn't normal, and in Her Lady's name, even the other warrior of their party didn't do these things. She had heard whispers of the Bladesingers, but Mae'rel didn't grow up in The Empire, and spoke Sylvari, this was true, but she wasn't as educated on the culture. Finally, she decided she would inquire more, and so as the Ranger and Huntress discussed what to do with the bodies of these creatures, Mae'rel spoke to the Bladesinger.

"Forgive me for my ignorance, Madam Arathea. I must admit though, I am curious. I was not raised in the lands of The Empire, though my accent I'm sure betrays this, and as such, I am not very familiar with your type of warrior creed. You never part ways with your blade, you dance through a battle instead of using more brute methods, and even under extreme agony, such as facing that monster's claws, you keep an unquestionable level head. I must ask, Madam Arathea, why do you do these things? And why have you chosen the path of such a creed?"

Post is coming up! Let me ask Octavia and Arathea for a little bit of collab writing potential before I do though, I'd like to start a small interaction since I've MAINLY just followed along.

Hello hello! I'll be getting my post up either sometime this afternoon or tomorrow morning, but welcome to our game! If you want to go back and slot in any interaction so it doesn't seem like Isilmewen had just been quiet the entire time or had unspecified unremarkable dialogue, I'd be happy to make a couple posts for some kind of past interaction or something.

Glad to have you on board!!

Mae'rel is just gonna 

1. Back up from the frontline, Bless assuming most of the party isn't in melee range when she goes to cast it
2. Get ready to heal. If no healing is needed in turn 2, she's gonna sanctuary herself, but ONLY if no healing is needed.
3. More healing, which will certainly be needed by now.

Got my post up. My spell list lacks many options for this situation and besides, 3 owlbears will do a lot of damage, so Mae'rel will focus on healing for the most part.

As soon as she heard the screeches, Mae'rel called upon the Blue Lady for her blessing, ignoring all other stimuli as the owlbears charged forth. She spoke to her Goddess, and asked for her shield and sword on both herself, and all of her comrades, at least the ones she could affect, and she gripped her pendant as she did, ushering prayer as light came to it.

( OOC: As mentioned in the post in Q&A, first action is a bless cast. ASSUMING IT IS NOT INTERRUPTED/PREVENTED!! )

Once she had called upon Lysora's aid and been given it, as the rest of the party has, Mae'rel took a moment to analyze the situation. Both of their fighters quickly moved to engage in melee, and it did cause a bit of issues with the light, as it waved frantically and sometimes extinguished briefly when it was embedded in beast flesh. Speaking of beasts, the Monk took a moment to identify the creatures, and as the stench and droppings had confirmed, this was an Owlbear den, and these were in fact, the residents. On the plus side, it meant they weren't creatures they had no familiarity with, as they'd at least fought one now. On the downside, three vicious owlbears were ready to tear the party apart.

( OOC: Assuming she isn't and melee and can get back safely, or has the conditions to disengage safely )

Mae'rel fell into a defense position, trying to allow anyone past her who needed to be, and otherwise attempting to get away from the combat as it unfolded, at least enough away that she could avoid being torn apart again. It was an unpleasant feeling, and the itchiness and pain still hadn't completely subsided, even after a long night's rest. Once she had disengaged from the frontline, she watched the battle, ready to assist anyone who needed it, and mend any wound. She announced this, making sure to communicate, especially since the beasts wouldn't understand

"I'll keep our warriors up the best I can with my blessings! Focus targets!"

( OOC: She will cast healing on anyone who needs it. If a round goes by somehow with no characters at moderate or worse HP level, she'll self-cast sanctuary. )

They both cost an action, but remember, we're doing multiple rounds of actions in each post so it doesn't slog.

Doin' my post now.

Mae'rel is gonna do her typical BUT first she's going to call out and put a bless on the party. Since we're in single file and not all in melee right now, hopefully this blesses most of us. After that she's gonna just try to fall to the backline and heal people, she will not be using a sanctuary this go around.

I am going to ask if she can make a check to identify the beasts or get a better look at em?

So sorry about the delay, I have a big problem with RPs where I FORGET IM IN ONE. I'll set my daily reminder to make sure I post, it will not happen again!

It's mainly just filler but I made sure to respond to interactions and prompt a little RP, it's hardly worth the wait but it's something!

Chess, I'm really sorry to hear that. I have a friend who's doing a bunch of job searching right now, it's super stressful. I hope you can find something good soon!

The Cleric was truthfully still a bit sore even after that healing. It was primarily a mental thing, as her body was healed almost to its full, and yet, she still felt as though she vaguely ached—Phantom pain. She had heard about it but considering she had never received healing herself, she didn't know quite what to expect. Frequently if one was fighting or their mind was elsewhere when they took the wound, their mind would allow the healing to its full, but if all they had to focus on was the pain, then a piece of it seemed to retain it. It caused her to walk a bit strange, as if her flesh was still open to the wind. More immediately, it made sitting down at the campfire after they had finished their scouting noticeably painful, though this was kept from the group via silence, and the Dove's protection of her features.

She had to admit, they had traveled at a greater pace than she thought they would with a group of this size. Mae're had neglected consideration of the fact these people were either soldiers or adventurers in some way or the other, so it did make sense. Still, she had trouble keeping pace at first, so used to walking slower, but she figured she would get past that with a bit of time. The Cleric opted to listen to the Bofir's story, making some internal notes as she was vastly unfamiliar with the culture of such creatures. She had heard many stories, and if she had to guess, this wasn't the first time it was told. With these sorts of stories, each time the monster's claws became sharper, or the storm the protagonist faced even more harsh, the wounds more grave, and so on. She concluded that there was likely some legitimate history in the story, though the fine details were greatly exacerbated. "Although I'd love to hear it, I doubt any of you have a more epic story."

"You would be correct, Bófear, I have no tales so grand. Though I've seen plenty of interesting things on my travels, most of my tales come from the mouth of others, and I believe they're just tavern-talk. That said, I have seen a few things more fascinating than an owlbear in the past. I believe they would hardly be of interests to you, though, as those stories lack.. well, a value of an Epic, as you said."

Mae'rel's stories mainly included scholars, secrets, and hidden caves, that sort of thing, and even most of those were still the gossip of a tavern rather than her own words. That said, she was interrupted when she saw the scandal unfold between the Huntress and their mage, and at first she moved to intervene, before stopping herself, seeing it had already been resolved quite quickly. The Mage spit venom at the Huntress, something she didn't particularly approve of, and she parted her lips to speak, but decided not to, as the Huntress was grown enough to defend herself from nothing but an insult, after all.

When the morning came the Monk was up at the light's first ray, speaking to her Goddess and asking for her guidance once more as she performed daily prayers. She did note that the Huntress steered clear of the Mage still, and decided she would approach her to offer some words of comfort after she bestowed the light upon the Bofir's selected weapon.

"Do not let her sour your kindness, Madam Rosariel. She seems uncustomed to such a group, she may warm with time. For now, let us be grateful the confrontation ended when it did, and that your companion is safe, yes?"

Turning her attention back to the group, Mae'rel began her own chant, and spoke once more, now not directed at a single individual.

"I feel it's best if we have more than one light spell. Madam Arathea, I believe you would be best suited for this?"

(OOC: If she agrees or has no protest, Mae'rel will cast light on Arathea's sword.)

When she had first charged forward and began calling out to the Blue Lady to conceal her from those that would seek to do her harm, Mae'rel expected that she would complete the casting before the Owlbear had made that ground against her, or that the warriors could distract it. She was wrong. Just before the Syl's patron could reach her, she felt another hand wrap around her, though this one was very physical, and very violent, if you could even call it a hand. A vicious claw, well, more than just one, would be a far better way to describe it, and it tore into her with no remorse. Searing pain filled her body, particularly her right arm where the beast had torn into her, but she maintained her focus as she watched into the mirror, and in a moment, she watched herself disappear from the silver frame, and the spell had been completed.

"Hells, that hurt.." The monk muttered to herself as she quickly made her distance, the party coming to her aid as they engaged the wicked beast. "Watch the claws! I've personally confirmed, they are QUITE painful!" She shouted now as she pressed her other hand to her right arm, pulling it back and observing the blood. Stinging pain confirmed the wound wasn't shallow, not to mention her robes that were quickly becoming more similar to that of a worshipper of Shinara in color.  She found it in herself to calm her mind, even despite the fiery pain that seared through her body, and she focused instead on alleviating it. Once again, Mae'rel called out to her Goddess as she closed her eyes, blocking out the sounds of the beast's awful screeches, and she instead focused on her heartbeat as she placed her hand once more upon her arm. She felt her heartbeat return to normal, and the wounds beneath her hands seal, the blood drying with haste on her arm, but there was further wounding still, in fact, relatively significant wounding, still.

She opened her eyes and kept an eye about as she moved slightly closer to the combat once more, watching for the beast wounding anyone. The monk saw the beast attempt to strike their Bladesinger, but she was practically a weapon wielded by the wind itself, and even though the creature was fierce, fast, she was both, and she was more, nearly dodging it's attacks completely. Ruadhri was quite fierce, seeming to think of nothing but battle as he tore into the creature, his rage and fury unending. Before Mae'rel had to move to assist anyone further though, the beast fell still with one final strike from the Bladesong, and so she allowed herself a moment to relax, taking a seat as she inhaled deeply. The bull made sure the creature was dead, no doubt, continuing his assault even after it's death, and so Mae'rel had no concern it would get back up. Her eyes closed for a moment when she heard the voice of Rosariel, prompting her awareness once more.

“Mae’rel, my apologies for not coming sooner. You should leave the one on one fighting to the fighters, yes?” Rosariel tried to offer a smile, but her concern couldn’t help but seep through, “Can I help you? I know you are a talented healer, I can offer my assistance as well if you need it.”

"My apologies, Madam Rosariel. I meant not to engage the Owlbear, only to provide aid to our blades. Diola lle, for your offer of aid, though the Blue Lady shall seal my wounds. I don't believe anyone else was struck, but is Madam Arathea alright?" Mae'rel listened to the concern in her fellow Priestess's voice, which was mildly visible on her face. "And, while we are on the manner, you are unaffected by the beast's claws, though I still shall ask, are you alright? I gather you've faced far more fearsome opponents in worse circumstances, but I still must inquire."

(OOC: Assuming positive response BUT I will edit as needed. Also, she's casting Cure Light Wounds on herself here)

The priestess nodded as she took a moment to focus on her own wounds, sealing them once more, she felt the pain leave her body yet again. She came to her feat again, allowing a small bow to Rosariel. "May you remain well, then. A battle like this is not of my expertise, and I will admit, I find myself slightly shaken. Shall we rejoin the others?"

Forgot to get my post down last night before hitting the bed. Let me finish up my school, then I'll make some tweaks and post it. Sorry!

The Journey had been uneventful so far, filled with peaceful forests and flatlands and a variety of scenery. It reminded Mae'rel of the travel she often took on alongside Ignacio, except this time she was in the company of a small fellowship. From their travels so far, Mae'rel had gathered a few things about a few different people. The Bladesinger knew her way around more than a blade, she was good company and interesting indeed. The bull.. was a bull, though friendly then she might have expected at first. Rosariel was nice enough, even if a bit awkward. The other few though? She hadn't quite drawn full conclusions yet, though she did note the Cidal seemed to be a bit of a troublemaker.

Of course, things changed when a monster jumped out at them and came at them as if it intended to made the group it's next meal. Immediately she could identify it was an Owlbear, thanks to the voice she heard declaring such, and the plenty of bedtime stories about this sort of creature. Some kind of experiment gone wrong, no doubt, Owlbears were cruel creatures. Everything wrong with bears and owls, and seemingly neither of the creature's good traits.

Mae'rel calmly collected herself, taking a deep breath and muttering a few words. She grasped the rose emblem around her neck into her left hand, and retrieved a small mirror with the other. Looking at her masked face through the mirror, she completed the spell by angling the mirror with her emblem, and she became but a blur to the monster, if the spell worked properly.

She calmly stepped away, enough to give the warriors their room, and she waited to make her next move.

@breebles Sorry! I thought you changed that spell up. In that case, yeah, let's get Aid on our Bull Man instead.