Yasha wrinkled her nose as she opened yet another sarcophagus. Raiding what should be the final resting place of the dead was one of those parts of adventuring that she didn't think she would ever get used to. Of course, the fact that these particular dead weren't resting that well made it an unfortunate necessity. She paused briefly to identify the creature within. It was another of the vampiric cult priests; one of the many that had attacked once she and her companions had found their way into this gruesome inner sanctum. She pulled another splintered, makeshift stake from her belt and, with a short prayer for the person this creature had once been, put a final end to its undead existence. Then she laid the lid down carefully once more.

"Still no sign of the head priest." Frustrated, she put her hand son her hips and looked around at her companions. "This makes no sense. He should have fled to some coffin somewhere after we defeated him upstairs, but we've run out of coffins."

"We will find him," Valen replied grimly, eyeing the dark antechamber.

Nathyrra slid her short swords into their sheaths. "Perhaps, but we should find how they made those legions of bone golems we have been fighting. If we destroy that, then we will cripple their alliance value to the Valsharess," A hint of impatience entered her voice as she continued. "That should be our focus, not finding the head priest of this cult. "

Frowning, the paladin fingered Duty's hilt. Though Nathyrra was technically correct, it chaffed at her to even consider leaving the undead priest in power over the villagers. She felt keenly the foulness that filled the temple, separate from the smell of death and sulfur that hung in the air. Unable to shake a growing feeling of gloom and dread as they had journeyed deeper into the cult's lair, a resolution had grown in her heart that the cult had to be brought low and its power utterly dispersed. Just ending their production of undead was no longer enough. Still, she did not want to look like she had forgotten The Seer's need either.

Yasha was still considering her reply when Enserric spoke up, his voice full of haughty mischief. "Perhaps she merely wants revenge for him ordering her stripped when she was first brought in."

Nathyrra raised her eyebrows, an arch tone of amusement entering her voice. "Is that so?"

"Aye," he replied as Yasha twisted to scowl at the hilt poking over her shoulder. "I was there. I heard it all. It could be he planned to dress her in one of those flimsy white gowns and offer her as a virgin sacrifice."

Yasha felt her jaw drop. Her mortified mind floundered for some snappy reply, but every time she started to respond she realized it would only put her in a worse position, resulting in only strangled noises of protest leaving her throat. Finally, she gave up and snapped her mouth shut. Ignoring both Nathyrra's amused look and Valen's startled one, Yasha shrugged her shoulders, turned on her heel and marched back out into the main room, her face burning. "Enserric," she growled, her head down, "are you familiar with the bag of holding in the bottom of my pack?"

There was a short silence from the blade before he replied. "Yes."

"Keep it in mind, because there is room for you in there, and the idea gets more and more tempting." She forced her head back up, well aware despite her embarrassment that sulking in such a place could cost her life. There really was no need, she was sure, to make eye contact with any of her companions for a while however.

Once they were on the move again, Nathyrra melted into the shadows on their flank, a habit Yasha found unnerving. It was not that she distrusted the drow, really, but the paladin would have preferred to know where she was while they were moving through hostile territory. It also reminded her rather uncomfortably that the drow had, up until recently, been an assassin. Stalking through an undead filled, foul smelling, evil laden temple being mocked by her own weaponry was bad enough without adding that to the mix.

"This stinks," she grumbled to herself.

Beside her, Deekin lifted his muzzle and sniffed the air dramatically. "Deekin notice that, too." He looked around conspiratorially before peering up at her and whispering, "Smells like bad eggs. Worse than the old boss. Think Valen ate something bad?"

Yasha snorted, amused despite herself. She looked quickly, embarrassed, to see if the tiefling had overheard, but when it seemed obvious that he had not, she gave the kobold an embarrassed grin, which was answered by a mischievously toothy one. Shaking her head, Yasha led on into yet another wing of the inner sanctum. This one seemed to be a prison area of some sort, eerily lit by a hellish red glow from the far end. It was hotter here, and the smell of sulfur grew stronger as well. Most of the cells were empty, however, and it was only after they had passed several rows of dank and empty cells did they find any with occupants.

Squinting through the bars through the strange light, Yasha was the first to notice the bodies. She held the furiously blazing Duty up, hoping to use the holy flames to light the cell better. Even then it was hard to make out the details of the two figures, or even to tell if they were alive. Yasha paused only a few moments before bracing herself and raising Duty at the cell door.

"What are you doing?" Nathyrra hissed, stepping from the shadows.

Yasha blinked at her, trying to hide her surprise at the drow's sudden appearance. She gestured at the cell with Duty. "Another one of my rather straight-forward methods of opening doors."

"One I'm very familiar with," Enserric commented acidly.

Nathyrra looked at the paladin, her lips parted in obvious exasperation. "Why?"

"Why? Why what? Oh. Why do I want to get in?" Yasha paused, tilting he head at the drow before using Duty once more to gesture at the still figures within the cell. "I wanted to check on them."

Nathyrra looked between the paladin and the dark cell repeatedly before shaking her head and motioning Yasha back with a graceful sweep of her arm. "Allow me, then," she said brusquely. Hands working quickly, she pulled a small item out of some hiding place at her belt. It looked like a small, unremarkable stone, but when she tapped it gently against the cell door, the locked clicked obediently open. Yasha remained silent as Nathyrra replaced the stone. She wasn't terribly happy considering what other uses the stone might have been put to in the past, but it was best not to bring that up.

Enserric broke the silence. "Well, that could have saved me quite a few dents while we were in the Undermountain."

Sighing, Yasha rolled her eyes before giving the sword a sour look and forcing herself to nod politely to the drow. "Thank you, Nathyrra."

Nathyrra nodded slightly in return, then moved out of Yasha's way as the paladin inched towards the two bodies cautiously. She'd been jumped by apparent corpses before, especially in places where the undead had power. Neither moved as she approached, however, and she finally knelt beside one and gently turned it on its back.

She winced as she first saw the creature's face. Though the figure was humanoid, its head and shoulders were canine, but that wasn't what brought bile to the back of her throat. The creature, whatever it used to be, was a dried husk, it's lips pulled back from its teeth in a final, pained snarl. It looked like it had been completely drained of blood. She forced herself to continue to examine the creature, despite her distaste. There was something odd about the creature; something that filled her with pity and sadness for seeing it come to such a state. It was awkward trying to examine it with Duty's blade being the only real light, however, so she called Deekin over and had him use his light stone so she could see better.

"This is not like any gnoll I've ever seen. Nor any lycanthrope," she said quietly.

Deekin nodded, frowning down at the figure thoughtfully. "Deekin doesn't think it's either of those, boss."

"They are hound archons," Valen said quietly from the cell door.

"How do you…?" she started to ask, but the question died on her lips as she turned and saw the pained look on Valen's face. His jaw clenched as he looked down at the figure before her, then he looked backed down the hall, avoiding her eyes.

"I've encountered them before," he said simply.

"Ah." She frowned down at the archon, searching through the memories of all of the planar studies Master Drogan had her do over the years. His teaching focus had been on those creatures he felt it was likely she would face as a foe, however, and this creature, even in death, didn't feel like a foe. She leaned close to Deekin.

"Do you know what a hound archon is?" she whispered.

"Deekin pretty sure is a kind of angel, boss," he whispered back.

She nodded, and considered the creature sadly. Pulling her gauntlet off, she hesitantly felt its neck and chest for signs of a pulse of breathing. She sighed as she felt none, though she wasn't even certain that angels breathed or had a heartbeat. "But, shouldn't it have…have returned to the heavens when it died?"

"Deekin thinks it depends on what kind of magic brought it here."

"Yes," Enserric replied, "with some summoning spells, their forms are dispersed when they would be killed, and they are sent back to their home plane. Other spells, however, make temporary bodies for them here, and this body remains on this plane when they die." He paused. "Yasha, the creature is dead. There is nothing you can do."

"I know that," she snapped. Bowing her head, she took a deep breath, but the fetid air did nothing to calm her frustration. "But why would the vampires have just left them here?"

"Maybe they haven't had time to clean up? I remember one time the kobold chief left.…"

"That's alright, Deekin," Yasha interrupted, grimacing. "I don't need to know."

The two archons might have died very recently. It was, truly, no use wishing she had arrived sooner, but that didn't keep her from doing so. She stood, frowning down at the archons' bodies, wondering if there would be any point in giving them a burial, as their spirits would have already moved on. Finally, she said a short prayer for them, apologizing for not making it in time, and hoping that their pain was quite over. Then she saluted once with Duty, and left the cell.

She stalked to the end of the dungeon hall, towards the room where the light and smell was strongest. Hesitating, she glanced around the huge open area. The room was nothing more than a platform suspended over a gurgling lava pool. It was filled with strange contraptions and wizards' worktables. A form lay spread-eagled on a pentagram in the center of the floor. She winced when she saw the great white wings. Another angel had met their doom at the hands of the vampire cult.

Then the figure moved and groaned.

She was undeniably still feeling guilty when she entered the workshop. That was the only excuse she could offer for how she charged into the room, intent only on the angelic form trapped within. She turned on Valen angrily when he grabbed her arm and snatched her backwards. She only had the briefest of moments to notice that was not meeting her glare, but was he was instead focused intently over her shoulder. She turned, instinct taking over, but it was too late. Though it missed its target in the base of her skull, the blade still sank deeply under her armor and into her shoulder. She staggered as the blade jerked out as quickly as it had sliced in, her knees buckling under the sudden pain. Valen pushed by her, yelling a battle cry.

Gritting her teeth, Yasha struggled to stay on her feet and turn to meet her assailant. She caught only a small glimpse of him before he disappeared from her sight, though whether it was a magical ability of his or just the red haze that blurred her vision, she wasn't sure. She forced herself into a defensive stance, closing her eyes in hopes that her other senses might help her when her sight had failed. She didn't take time to rationalize what made her sense the next blow coming, but when her instincts cried out to dodge it, she responded. Every nerve in her left arm screeched in protest when she tried to lift her shield to block the strike, however, and as she struggled with its sudden weight the enemy's blade skimmed off the top of her shield and blurred past her face.

A new burning pain sliced across her cheek as he withdrew his blade. She saw a brief glint of fangs in his taunting smile, then a shadow from the flickering light of the lava danced across her vision, and he was gone again. Yasha clenched her jaw against her frustration and pain. She could be frightened later. Right now she, quite literally, had a vampire out for her blood.

Yasha closed her eyes again. Her paladin sense shrieked in her head, pulling the hairs on the back of her neck up. She tried to focus it, past the underlying sense of evil in the temple and beyond a mere sense of the vampire's presence, to try and pinpoint his position with that and her ears as her guides. She's been forced to do it before to save her life in the Shadow Plane. A flicker of fevered memories threatened her concentration then, of glowing red eyes in the darkness and near invisible claws against her skin. She gripped Duty tighter, pulling on the cool, holy magic from the blade to help her focus.

The paladin strained her senses. He was close, but where? The burbling of lava, the clank of Valen's armor as he shifted, and even the protesting sound of Deekin loading his crossbow seemed loud in her ears. Her muscles trembled with battle readiness, dulling the pain but pushing against the stillness. Still she searched. Finally, she was able to focus on the mobile source of dark necromancy in the room. She faced it, tense, and opened her eyes. She saw Valen, and felt a moment of confusion. Then she realized.

"Valen! Beware!" Her cry came mere moments before the vampire struck. She charged forward even as the tiefling staggered back, his hastily raised weapon only partially deflecting the crippling strike aimed under his left arm. Pulling on the magical strength of her gauntlets, Yasha put full force into her swing. The vampire jumped back, snarling. Despite the renewed stab of pain in her shoulder, the paladin pulled Duty back again and redirected the momentum straight into a backhanded swipe. She slashed again and again. Her shield arm grew numb from the throbbing pain, but she ignored defense, pushing her undead foe back step by step from Duty's fury. She couldn't land a blow, but neither did he seem to have a chance to disappear once more. His eyes glinted hungrily, as her sword arm trembled and her strokes became uneven. She was too close for Deekin to risk a shot. Valen had not joined her. She feared for him, briefly, but her hesitation only invited a counter-stroke from the vampire that she was barely able to fend off. She realized too late that the parry had left her left side open, as she could no longer raise her shield to defend it. His vicious look of triumph turned unexpectedly to pained surprise. Desperation crossed his features, just as he melted into a cloud of smoke. As it cleared, Yasha saw Nathyrra through the dispersing figure, pulling back her sword from its lethal strike.

The drow saluted her briefly. "Thank you for keeping him distracted until I could get a good opening," she said, her red eyes glinting.

Yasha let out an explosive breath of relief and slumped against a nearby worktable. "Glad I could help," she replied dryly, sheathing Duty. The vampire's mist surged out of the room and disappeared into the darkness of the hallway they had entered by. "Looks like we'll have to track another one back to its coffin."

She was further relieved when she heard Valen's voice. "Is your wound serious?"

An attempted to roll her left shoulder sent another fiery stab of pain through her. "I'll live." She turned to peer at him, still keeping her weight on the table. "What about you?"

"He pulled back his strike when you attacked," he replied, examining the slice on side. Then he looked up at her and smiled briefly. "I'll live."

"Yasha nodded, then pushed herself off of the table. "Good."

She walked slowly back towards the center of the room, and approached the figure that had led her to dash into the trap. The woman was strikingly beautiful despite countless scars. Her tattered wings were blackened with mold and dirt, but some of their pristine glory shone through yet. A tube, filled with dark red fluid, ran from the crook of her elbow to a strange panel nearby. Yasha suddenly had no doubt as to the fate of the two archons they had encountered earlier. The angels emerald green eyes were piercing when she met Yasha's gaze. Her voice was strong and fierce despite her obvious pain. "Free me!"

Yasha nodded, and looked back at Valen. The tiefling was already examining the strange panel the tube led to.

While he examined the control panel, Yasha knelt beside the angel. She eyed the tube, afraid to touch it without knowing what she was doing for fear of causing more damage. She felt the green gaze on her still and looked back at the prisoner's face. "Who are you?"

"I am," she paused, pained. "I was called Lavoera, a hospitaler from the Outer Planes... Now I languish here: forgotten, abandoned, and left for dead."

Yasha blinked, confused. She had assumed correctly this creature was some sort of angel, but what was a hospitaler? After having to admit that she couldn't even identify the hound archons, she decided that it was something she could research at some other time.

"How did you end up here?" Yasha asked instead. Nathyrra and Deekin joined the paladin as she listened to the angel explain having been sent on some vague mission find someone she didn't know how to find and warn them about being guided by some vague force of evil. She wrinkled her nose and frowned. If all angels' missions were handled like that, it was little wonder most people didn't believe the gods had much interest in their lives. The messengers probably all got lost. Yasha sharpened her gaze on the angel, however, when she confirmed that her blood, and the blood of other celestials, was being used to animate bone golems.

Nathyrra's voice rang with excitement. "This must be how the Valsharess is gathering the undead hordes for her army. We have to find a way to free this creature and stop this."

Yasha nodded. "I agree. Valen?"

"I have this control nearly figure out, I believe. Here." He pushed some button, and then pulled down a lever on the panel. The woman's rigid posture softened and a faint red glow seemed to drain out of the air around her. Yasha started to help her up and winced as the pain hit her once more. Nathyrra and Deekin helped the angel sit instead. She awkwardly stretched out her wings a couple of times, then offered them all a wan smile. Her voice was sincerely grateful but full of sadness when she spoke.

"Thank you. I know I've made a mess of the whole thing but at least I'm not being held captive anymore. I don't know how I'm going to explain this to my superiors..."

Yasha frowned her. It hardly seemed fair for her to blame herself, as her mission was hardly well defined or planned in Yasha's opinion. Besides, the sight of a saddened angel was heart-rending. "Come now," she said, offering as much of an encouraging smile as she could muster. "It's not so bad."

"No? It's pretty bad... But I'm still here, right?" Her face brightened slightly. "I'm still on the Material Plane. My superiors didn't say my mission had to be done right away. There's still time, isn't there?"

It was not so difficult to smile, now, with the angel's face brightening. "How are you feeling?"

"Me?" She chuckled briefly then struggled to stand. Staggering, she caught herself before toppling over, using poor Deekin's head to stabilize herself. "Whoa.… Sorry. A little woozy, there. I don't think I'll be flying anytime soon. But it's... well it's better than it was, don't you think?"

Yasha nodded and looked down. Beside her, Valen knelt and pressed a small, uncapped vial of healing into her hand. She grinned gratefully at him and drank deeply of the liquid. She watched the angel get her bearings a bit, confidence and power returning by the moment now that she was free. "What do you intend to do now?" Yasha finally asked, pushing herself to stand again as well.

"Why, complete my mission of course." She replied brightly. "I'm supposed to find someone and give them a message... I'm not really sure who I'm supposed to find but... Well, things have a way of working themselves out. Serendipity, right?"

Yasha tilted her head in acknowledgement, enjoying that fact that such movement no longer caused great pain. Perhaps she should have a bit more faith, though it might be a bit unfair to compare her faith to an angel's. She weighed her next words in her mind for a bit, before finally decided the need was great enough. "I could use your help."

She half expected to be rebuffed, for the angel did have a pre-existing mission of her own. Her face brightened even more, however, when she replied. "Really? I'd... I'd love to. I mean, this person I was supposed to meet, they could be anywhere, right? After all, I have to start somewhere and it might as well be by returning a favor. What do you need?"

"There's a rebellion against the drow," Yasha explained hesitantly, "and the rebel camp needs your protection."

"The drow? The vampires were using my blood to fashion golems for the drow army! Won't they be surprised to meet me on the fields of battle." Yasha smiled at the sudden exuberance the woman had. It was certainly not the paladin's imagination, as her wings seemed to mend and brightened before Yasha's eyes as well. She was about to tell the angel where the Seer's camp was when she closed her eyes and started turning her head back and forth. "Rebels, rebels, rebels... Got it!" She face upwards and pointed in what Yasha figured was probably the right general direction.

"Okay, on my way!" she said, disappearing in a shower of brilliant light. Yasha pursed her lips at the spot where the angel had once stood. Perhaps she had been unfair in thinking her superiors, whoever they are, had been lax in giving her information. It seemed this angel didn't wait long for explanations.

"She will be quite useful against the army of the Valsharess," Nathyrra commented dryly, "assuming she manages to find our camp."

Valen crossed his arms and pursed his lips. "The Seer's army is a rag-tag mix of outcasts and misfits." He looked at Yasha, mischief in his eyes despite the straight face. "I think that deva will fit in quite well."

Yasha shook her head at her companions, and stretched her arms. The pain in her shoulder was down to a twinge. "We have accomplished our main goal. However, I hope you won't mind if we finish cleaning this place up before we leave." She paused, and peered back at the crimson stain on her back. "Well, after I clean my armor."

There were no objections.