In which we achieve a victory, of sorts.

Pausing only to do a bit of first aid on the worst of our injuries, mainly on Wind who had evidently been hit hard by the swamp creatures, we set off in pursuit of Barithia, heading back the way that we had come, towards Bel.
 
The going was tough. We were hurrying as much as we could, but the terrain was very difficult underfoot and it was more than a bit of a slog. Without Enessa to guide us it would have been far harder, but even as it was, the swampy ground sucked at our boots, and the thin branches seemed to whip at our faces as we pushed our way through, trying to follow Barithia’s path as directly as possible. Since she was able to pass straight through obstacles on our plane - trees and ditches and suchlike - we had our work cut out not to fall behind completely. Even as it was, she gradually pulled ahead, and after an hour or so, Zeni’s magic faded and we lost all sight of her. She had seemed to be heading for Bel though, so we continued on that path as fast as we were reasonably able to go.
 
It was suggested that some of the speedier party members might try to move ahead, attempting to reach Bel before Barithia did, but it was decided that this, even if possible, which it may not even have been, was not a good idea. Arin spoke eloquently about the unpleasantness of facing the hag alone, and so we decided that sticking together would be the best plan.
 
As we made our way through the gloomy late afternoon shadows, a few times I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye. A humanoid figure, standing by the path and watching us silently. As soon as I turned my head to look at it fully, it was gone. It was incredibly creepy, and I let the others know what I had seen. I tried to use divine sense to locate any unholy creatures that might be lurking - another banshee for instance, but I found nothing.
 
A few minutes later, Arin gave a shout - he had seen it too now. He described it as a tall female figure, and said that it seemed somehow to be waiting with an air of impatience. Arin called out to it, in common, ‘You there! Why do you follow us?’, but got no response beyond the shrieking of the birds and the wind in the trees. Raphael called out something in Sylvan as well. Nothing seemed to happen for a moment, but then a very strange look came over Raphael’s face. I couldn’t tell if he had seen something out of place, or if some thought had just occurred to him, but it made him go rather green about the gills. I was on the point of putting my hand on my sword, ready to face whatever threat he had spotted, when he said quickly ‘Let’s keep moving, we have to get to Bel’, and so we set off again, picking our way carefully over the slippery ground.
 
It was only moments later however, when I turned back to make sure that everyone was okay, and I saw Raphael on his knees in the mud, face pale and set with nerves. I hoped very much that he was not feeling ill again - we would be hard pressed to deal with that under current circumstances, but he pushed himself quickly back onto his feet and carried on. I followed, keeping an eye out for the mysterious figure as best I could, but I did not see her again. Raphael believes that she was only ever a trick of the light, but I don’t think so. Something unknown was watching us out there, and that remains a cause for concern.
 
As we walked, Raphael said that he had remembered something which might be of use. A hag, he said, carried with her something on her person which facilitated her movement between the planes. If that thing was removed from her possession then she would be unable to vanish, and would be forced to engage with us, one way or the other. Unfortunately he could remember nothing else about this object, which he thought was called a ‘heartstone’ - what it might look like, or how large it was, or anything really. Still, if we found the opportunity to take it somehow, perhaps it would be helpful.
 
We also discussed our tactics as we walked. Barithia would arrive at Bel at least some minutes ahead of us, maybe as much as half an hour, and so she would have time to rally the villagers to her defence, should she choose that path. She clearly had them under some sort of charm, so it would presumably be easy for her to convince them that we posed a danger. I tried to emphasise how important it was that we did not harm them, even if they actively attacked us - they were innocent victims in this after all - but I hoped that it would not come to that. Back at her house, Barithia had said that she wanted to keep these people safe, and I really did not think that she would deliberately endanger them in any confrontation. Slightly to my surprise, one of the strongest voices in support of making sure that the villagers came to no harm was Enessa’s. I would, if I am honest, perhaps have expected her to be most concerned about her own safety, and perhaps that of Ussi, but I would have been doing her a real injustice in thinking so. Not only did she speak up strongly for the safety of the villagers in our discussion, but later, when Raphael and I attempted to reason with Barithia again, she stood with us bravely, potentially putting herself in harm’s way to do so. For Raphael and I, it is our duty as sworn paladins to take such risks, after all, but she did it freely, and from her own heart.
 
We reached the edge of the trees just to the north of Bel, and Wind and Sabali crept forward to see if they could see anything of what was happening in the village. They are both very light-footed in normal circumstances, but the journey through the swamp had taken its toll on us all, and they were spotted just as they stepped between the outermost buildings of the settlement. Sabali stepped forward, talking quickly and trying to provide a distraction for Wind to slip away and back to the group. As soon as she told us what had happened, we started walking toward the village. There was no more time for stalling, they knew that we were here, and so the less we seemed to be trying to hide, the better. As we did so, Raphael explained again to Wind about the heartstone and asked whether she thought that she might be able to use her skills to essentially pick Barithia’s pockets. I cautioned her not to try it too soon - if we were to have any chance to talking, or of drawing Barithia out, away from the villagers, then someone getting caught sneaking was the last thing that we needed.
 
Raphael, Enessa, and I led the way as we walked into the centre of Bel, our weapons stowed and trying to present as peaceable a face as possible. There was no sign of Barithia, but many of the villagers were out of their houses, staring at us with flat and hostile eyes. Oteas, the old woman who had asked me to pray for those killed by the gnolls, approached us angrily, demanding to know why we had come back. Raphael tried to smooth things over, reminding her that just the night before we had all been drinking and laughing together. She looked confused for a moment, but then tilted her head, as if listening to something which only she could hear. ‘You tried to kill Barithia!’ she said, with certainty. Raphael offered gently to tell her our side of the story, and she repeated her charge, asking us whether or not it was true. I replied that we had offered no harm to Barithia until she had attacked us, and Raphael reminded her that we had fought last night to defend Bel from the banshee. That banshee was closely connected to Barithia, he explained. She looked very conflicted and unhappy at that, and I desperately hoped that the charm would not prove powerful enough to compel her to place herself in harm’s way if, as seemed likely, it came to a fight. If Barithia tried to use these people as shields, it could get very ugly indeed.
 
Raphael then raised his voice and said loudly ‘If Barithia is here, why won’t she speak with us?’, and from the other side of the village he received a prompt answer.
 
Barithia, in her human form now, and seemingly back on the material plane, stepped out of one of the little houses, and stood on the narrow wooden walkway which crossed the water. ‘Here I am’ she said, tension making her voice hard, ‘what do you want from me?’. Raphael spoke first, in common, charging her with the truth of what had happened at our last meeting, and asking her again to free the people of Drynna from the curse which she had laid upon them. Brandishing the papers which we had taken from her house, he confronted her with the evidence of the harm which she had done to Drynna, and also to the people here, offering to share that evidence with them if she did not co-operate with us in solving the problems which had been created. His arguments were cogent, and well phrased, but this was always going to be difficult
 
Baraithia looked very troubled at his words, and I saw fear flicker across her face at the sight of the papers. The tone of Raphael’s voice was firm, perhaps even somewhat harsh - I think that he too was feeling the effect of our frantic dash back through the swamp - and I tried my best to soften our position a little. We had also learned from the journal, I said, that she and her sisters had struggled hard to avoid this fate, and that she should be proud of that, and not give up the fight. Whatever was happening now could still be stopped.
 
At that, she seemed to break down, and put her hands to her head as if it pained her. I was doing my best to empathise with her struggle, to judge the words that might reach her through the madness, and draw her back. Perhaps that openness is what made me vulnerable. Then again, I too was exhausted after the day’s travails, and perhaps that was enough on its own.
 
Barithia began to mutter under her breath, and to flick her fingers as if casting some sort of spell. The next thing I knew, my mind had become….woolly. Raphael and Enessa were both staring at me in a very disconcerting way, but I couldn’t see what the problem might be. I looked at Barithia, and I found a piercing sympathy for her first and foremost in my mind. We had been cruel to disturb her peace, cruel to tax her with the consequences of her actions in Drynna, and what were we trying to do now? I honestly could not remember. Surely there was no need for hard words? All this could be worked out easily enough. I knew in the back of my mind that I was missing something, but it simply slipped past my conscious thoughts when I tried to focus on it.
 
Raphael then switched to sylvan, and if anything, his tone became even harder. Barithia looked shocked by what he was saying, her face crumpled and miserable. Her form began to flicker between human and hag as her control apparently weakened. Raphael pressed his point, speaking quickly now, still in sylvan, and gesturing back towards the path down which we had come. She cried out at that, her voice anguished, and she spoke in common. ‘Just leave me alone, what do you want from me?’
 
At that, Enessa, who had been silent up to this point spoke up, not loudly but with an intensity which commanded attention. ‘I too, know what it is to be the other here.’ she began, ‘It is never easy, but we do not have to be the monsters that they paint us as, we have a choice’. Her eyes were fixed on Barithia as she spoke, and the emotion was thick in her voice. I could see that she was speaking from experience, and I wondered what price her own heritage had exacted. I knew that drow were often regarded with suspicion and dislike in many quarters, dismissed as cruel followers of Lolth, and for all Enessa’s mixed parentage, her drow inheritance was by far the more visible element. Had she herself been seen as a monster? It was an uncomfortable thought, but I had to admit that it could be the case. That would certainly give her an insight into Barithia’s pain in a way that I, my features stamped from birth with an angel’s golden mark, could never match. Enessa had spoken proudly and defiantly, but I knew it still must have cost her something. It was generous of her to do it, and I silently blessed her for it, and prayed that it would be enough to draw Barithia back from the brink.
 
Barrithia gave Enessa a long look, considering, and I thought that perhaps I could see some of the tension easing from her face, but then she turned back to face Raphael. Replying to his sylvan speech in common, she then said something very odd indeed. ‘You threaten me with Queen Mab, and then you expect me to speak with you!’ she said, bitterness overflowing in her voice. Now, at the time, I focused only on the word threat - in my befuddled state, it made me both sad and angry, on her behalf. Why would Raphael be threatening Barithia? Poor, kind, suffering Barithia, who wanted nothing more than to be left in peace! I knew that something was wrong with that picture, but again, it slipped past me when I tried to pin it down. The charm which she had laid on me was a powerful one and I could not shake it off.
 
Now though, looking back on it with the benefit of hindsight, the part of that which seems strangest is not the talk of threats, but the mention of ‘Queen Mab’. Who or what is she? And why should Barithia fear her? This was not at all the conversation that I had anticipated we would have, or that we had discussed on the journey. Could Zeni have been right about the use of sylvan being about more than simple convenience? I really hope not, but it was, now that I reflect on it, a very odd thing to say.
 
The conversation continued for another few moments, with everyone professing that they did not want a conflict, but the fragile bridges of trust that we had been struggling to build with Barithia were just not strong enough to stand against the waves of pain and fear that she seemed to be experiencing. Her capacity to reason had clearly been tenuous for some time, and this situation, with all its pressures, was simply too much for her. With a shriek, she allowed her human form to drop completely and it was now very clear indeed that she intended to fight.
 
Mind you, still charmed, I found it impossible to believe that she truly meant us harm. This misunderstanding would all be sorted out soon, I had no doubt.
 
I heard Orlando firing Bayou, but thankfully (as I saw it at the time) the shot went wide. To my surprise, none of the villagers reacted at all. They stood silently, apparently in some sort of catatonic state, limbs still and eyes unblinking. If they stayed that way, perhaps we could avoid any harm befalling them, as long as we were careful.
 
Raphael pulled at my arm, urging me to snap out of it and come with him to confront the hag. At the time, this seemed nothing other than annoying - it was just like him to be so bossy - first he was haranguing Barithia, and now he was telling me what to do as well. I glared at him and shook his hand angrily from my arm. He nodded grimly at that, and let go, turning away and running towards Barithia, pushing past unmoving villagers as he went. Once he got close though, instead of attacking her, he seemed to be simply staring at her. Absently, I looked at her too, and I recalled distantly that at one point I had found her bluish skin and strangely textured hair unpleasant to look at, even horrifying, but now I just couldn’t see what the problem might have been.
 
I saw Sabali making his way forward to stand on her other side, shoving aside villagers who hardly seemed to notice his passage. A couple more ranged attacks hit the water, or the wood of the walkway, but did nothing but make Barithia angrier. She clawed then at Raphael, drawing blood from long scratches on his face and neck. It was clearly an accident, my unwilling mind insisted.
 
I decided that it would be best if I could get between Barithia and my friends, before any harm could come to anyone, but there was no space on the walkway for me. With an effort of will, I allowed the warmth which I had felt in my shoulder blades for the past week, to blossom into wings. I flew low over the water and hovered by the side of the path, a rich golden light reflecting off the brown and murky swamp, and bathing the whole scene in a gentle radiance. Something in the back of my mind was shouting for my attention, but the surface of my thoughts was smooth. We were all friends here, and nothing bad would happen, I was confident. Looking back now, it terrifies me, the degree to which that warm and comfortable assurance crippled my ability to act.
 
Arin was holding his holy symbol, eyes closed and praying fervently. Barithia gasped, dark lines opening on her arm and energy seeming to bleed from it. Could the two be connected? Surely not, I thought.
 
Raphael’s eyes had seemed to fix on something which was hanging from Barithia’s belt, and then I saw him signal to Sabali. What Sabali did in response was very surprising indeed. It seemed almost to be a sort of display - he moved quickly from one dramatic pose to the next, at one point even standing on his hands. Barithia seemed to pay no real mind to this, but perhaps it captured more of her attention than it had seemed to, because when Raphael reached out to snatch the pouch from her belt, she did not react quickly enough. He drew back his arm and flung the pouch far out over the water, and when it hit, it sank quickly and without trace. Barithia screamed at that, and it was an awful tearing sound of loss and fear.
 
Very worried now about the unpleasant turn which events were taking, I raised my hand in benediction and cast a prayer of protection on Raphael. It did no good - she launched a series of three small but very dangerous magical strikes against him. The protective spell hung in the air, but these missiles somehow bypassed it and hit him full in the chest. He dropped heavily, the untouched protection prayer settling on his unmoving body. Barithia looked down at him with rage in her eyes.
 
A little way away, Zeni was holding her hand up and seemed to be brandishing something. It looked a bit, although not all that much, like the pouch which Raphael had taken from Barithia’s belt, and I guessed that it was an illusion intended to make Barithia think that she had retrieved the object. It was a clever plan, and a bold one, but unfortunately she hadn’t had a close enough look at the pouch to create a very convincing replica, and I don’t think that Barithia was fooled.
 
Enessa and Orlando were still shooting from the bank, firing as quickly as they could. Those hits which did get through seemed to do surprisingly little damage to Barithia, but every small bit of damage was helping. Not that I saw it that way at the time of course.
 
Barithia looked over at them, confusion, fear and anger mixed in her eyes, and Orlando, lowering Bayou for a moment, made one last, brave, attempt to save the situation. ‘Miss Barithia,’ he began, his courtesy holding of course, even in the midst of battle ‘you had no choice but to be born a monster, but it is your choice if you die as one’. His voice was sad, almost gentle, but his words were powerful, and they cut right to the rotten heart of things. Barithia’s face was a picture of despair - she knew that the choice had been there, and she had tried very hard to make it - we had read that in her scribbled journal - but over the years her strength had waned, and now she was backed into a corner, her mind lost in rage and sorrow. The choice remained before her, bright and clear as ever, but she had lost the capacity to believe that it was there, and so she could not see it.
 
Sabali struck at her then from the other side, lashing out with his fists and drawing her attention while I brushed the feathers of my wing across Raphael’s prone form, imparting as much celestial energy as I could, and willing him to find the strength to rise. He did so, legs weak and shaking, his face still bleeding heavily, but back on his feet, raising his blade to Barithia, and striking hard. My charmed mind revolted at that, this was not why I had saved him, so that he could do violence! But something deeper in me cheered him on. If this had to be done, and I knew now that it did, then it should be done as quickly and cleanly as possible.
 
I think Barithia sensed that something in me had shifted, because she turned very quickly and tore at me unexpectedly with her claws. With the charm still clouding my mind, I was completely open to her attack, and she did a huge amount of damage. A wave of agony tore through my body, and I cried out with the pain, but that pain also seared through my mind, dispelling the charm, and so I welcomed it eagerly. The wounds on my body were bad, certainly, and I would struggle to endure another hit like that, but my mind was clean again and so I rejoiced.
 
I raised my sword and allowed my wings to expand to their full width. The golden glow reflected in the water grew brighter, and I could feel my hair floating up around my head, the tiny sparks of light no doubt dancing like a halo. I was fully myself again, thank god, and, for once, I allowed the full glory of my blood to sing out without restraint.
 
Looking around with newly clear eyes, I could see Zeni, diamond in hand, shaping her orb spell, spinning it between her hands and then launching a powerful burst of lightning strikes which hit Barithia very hard indeed. She might be able to shrug off a lot of what we could throw at her, but not that, it seemed. Zeni grinned broadly, seeing her handiwork, and I smiled back. It was a job very well done.
 
Wind and Arin were standing close together at the far end of one of the wooden pathways, and he seemed to be speaking to her in great earnest, almost entreating her. Her face was distant and distracted, and she seemed to be taking in none of what he said. I guessed that perhaps she might be suffering from the same charm effect that I had been under, but if Arin was unable to snap her out of it I couldn’t think of anything I would be able to do either. At the end of the conversation, Wind seemed to somehow slip and fall into the water, where she splashed clumsily, and called Arin, who for some reason she blamed, some very impolite names. She seemed to regard the rest of the battle with indifference, and I felt a stab of sympathy for her. Mind magic is a nasty business, doing far more harm in its own way than fire or lightning might do.
 
My attention came back to Barithia as she struck at Sabali with her claws, and he danced back nimbly out of the way. Over her shoulder, on the far bank, I could see Zeni with her hand on Orlando’s shoulder, leaning down to whisper something in his ear. Listening, he raised Bayou, and with pinpoint accuracy he managed to catch Barithia at just the right angle to knock her down. It was a perfect opportunity, and Sabali, Raphael and I were all able to capitalise on it. Raphael struck with his mysterious cold blade, Sabali simply with his fists for the most part, and then I saw my opening. My sword is no magical heirloom, more’s the pity, but as my blade hit home I called on Bahamut to lend his power to my strike. The physical damage from the blow was relatively trivial, but the radiant damage which flowed from both the smite and from my own innate energy did a lot of work. The combined effect of all these attacks was that Barithia was obviously weakened, maybe close to death, and I began to hope that it was nearly over.
 
Desperate now, Barithia struck again at Raphael, and once again he collapsed, the little strength that I had been able to grant him not nearly enough to stave off such a blow. Seeing her opening then, Barithia then tried to flee, jumping off the walkway and into the water. As she did so arrows whistled past her on both sides. I heard her yelling at Wind to search for the pouch which was somewhere lost in the swamp. Wind seemed to make some effort to do so, her mind apparently still swayed, but really it was a hopeless quest.
 
I flew out over the water in pursuit, striking again with my sword and allowing the radiant energy to flow through me and into the blade. It was almost enough, but not quite. To my right, Sabali was watching closely, obviously not wanting to enter the water, but steeling himself to do it if it became necessary. To my left, I could see Arin looking nervously from Barithia to Rapahel’s unmoving body. He was evidently close to the end of his strength, and weighing up how best to use his last reserves of power. Making up his mind, he thrust out his shield, with the holy symbol of Ioun pointing directly at the wounded hag, and began to weave a guiding bolt. It grew in strength as I watched it, three thick strands of azure energy, twisting together and then shooting across the intervening distance in the blink of an eye. The divine power of the bolt did its work very efficiently, leaving very little of Barithia to fall back into the waters of the swamp which she had called home. It was over. Finally.
 
I flew back to where Raphael lay, and channeled the last trickle of power that I could muster into the wounds on his chest. As he opened his eyes, and I could see that he would be alright, I allowed my wings to fade from sight, and the light of my transformation to dim. The early evening seemed very dark to me afterwards, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust.
 
Around us, the villagers were returning to their senses, looking at us nervously, and with varying degrees of hostility. By this time we were all so tired it was hard to string a sentence together, but we offered what explanation and reassurance we could. I’m not sure how the others got on, but Raphael and I spoke with Rithuia, and I think she understood what we were saying.
 
Using a detect magic spell, Zeni managed to find the heartstone, still in its pouch, where Raphael had thrown it. It didn’t look like much to me, but apparently it might have some healing properties which could be useful. I think that Raphael has it stowed somewhere for now.
 
For now, we all need to sleep, but before I do, I will spend some time in prayer for Barithia’s soul. She fell into terrible darkness in her last days and weeks, it is true, but she had tried hard for many years to take another path, despite being born into circumstances so difficult that it is hard to even imagine them. Unlike her poor sister Seleena, whose undead spirit had caused so much trouble, I do not believe that Barithia’s soul will roam unquiet in this place. I very much hope not anyway. I will pray that she finds mercy beyond the veil, and that, if she has no deity of her own to claim her, the Raven Queen will deal with her gently.