[indent][sub][sub][sub][h3][color=silver]   C o m b o   w i t h   [i][b]c o r n e r e d b l i s s[/b][/i][/color]
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A metallic clatter marked the final deathrattle of the incursion, an inert blade crashing to the wet stone at Solglia's feet. Yvah turned quick in her stance, snapping her gaze all around the room until it was clear to her that the hostility had passed. Her chest caved slightly as she sighed with relief. Nearly everyone stood, but to her side lay the bleeding body of a deathly pale elf. Another sacrifice for these aquatic cultists, it seemed. It almost looked as if they had came too late and done too little to save him, given a tense moment where she watched if his slowing breath would cease even after the bandages. They didn't, thankfully, and kicked back into full action again after another of the slated sacrifices poured a magically shimmering poultice down his gullet. 

Again, Yvah turned, this time to Araerys. The bard seemed in dire straits indeed. With some effort, Yvah bounded over the tainted river, feet and palms planting on either side of the ruined corpse of the lesser dragonkin. Standing straight, with a flick of her tail, she wiped the grime of the floor off of her hands. Instead of a look of minor disgust at the mess of the place, she look concerned at Ary. Leaning from side to side, her eyes easily catching the torchlight as they flick around over the half-elf’s form, she inspects the extent of the damage. “Are you going to be well?”

Araerys, so very relieved that the fight was finally finished, resheathed her rapier in order to place her hands over her knees and double over as exhaustion finally sank into her body. While definitely better off than the unconscious fellow who looked to be a new member of their party, the bard was very much looking forward to a rest of any sort. She watched as a few of her party members tended to the male’s health, only tearing her squinted eyes away from them as Yvah approached. “Ah, yes, I think?” she replied, straightening up from her half-crouch to as best a standstill as she could. “Better ‘n that guy, fer sure. But a bit of a sit down wouldn’t be unwelcome.” She nodded her head at the feline in turn: “Are you doin’ okay?”

“I can still…” Yvah started to cough, covering her mouth to hack into her hand. A couple small spots of red dotted her palm when she pulled it away. She sighed, some grief tinging her belaboured exhalation. It seemed she wasn’t so used to seeing blood on her hands anymore. Looking back to Araerys, with some disappointment in her voice, she said, “I can still fight.” 

The bard’s eyebrows furrowed together in concern, assuming that what she saw in her hand was not a pleasant sight. Her reply urged an involuntary scoff and a dismissive wave of Ary’s hand, though the half-elf did take a quick scan of their surroundings for any further signs of danger. It seemed they were in the clear for the time being, but these sewers had already proved nasty at every turn, and it wouldn’t do well to let the guards down just yet. Still, she said, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, there. Just get yer breath back.”

Given a moment to breathe, Yvah set out within this main antechamber. Pacing around the walls, searching for things of interest, she eventually made her way to one of the twin ceremonial pillars. Examining the column that the pale elf was bound to, Yvah found little of note, but could tell that something must’ve been important there. She just didn’t know what to look for. “Ay!” she called, “If either of you acolytes wants to take a look, I think there should be something here!” 

Ary made her way over, wincing a little at the wound in her side now that the majority of the adrenaline had worn off, and took a peek at the throne. After a few moments of poking at it, it came to her attention that the seat could be lifted. “It looks like I can open this,” she said to Yvah, reaching out to do just that. 

The cat monk turned from her examination of the ceremonial pillar toward the sound of Ary’s voice. Yvah had seen the throne there before, but didn’t think of it as much other than a fancy chair until the bard started prying at the seat. She trotted over, pulling her tools from her billowing clothes, and knelt before the throne. With a handpick, she start pulling up at any structure of the thing until she saw movement. Cautiously, she held the secret compartment open just enough to slide the pick inside, and felt around for any mechanism that could be a trap. All she found were the hinges at the back, and she pulled the seat open freely. 

Yvah had only seen some teasing glints within the forbidden storage, but as the hinges made their dim squeal in protest of her plundering her eyes sparkled nearly as much of the fistfuls of gems inside. Stacks of coin all in a neat pile to a side, with vials and dusty parchments to its flank, and gems of many sorts and colors dotted atop it all. The thieving feline seemed almost giddy compared to the gloom cast over her throughout this cathedral delve. Furred fingers made quick work stashing the jewels in the same pouch as the others, similarly making no attempts to hide it. However, the coinage was in a rather heavy abundance, and she wasn’t inclined to carry it all with her. 

Yvah turned within her crouch toward the party and waved her arm as the other held the distended cloth pouch aloft. “We just found the tithe, boys and girls!” 

>Religion of 10 to examine the pillars
>Help action to Araerys, resulting in an Investigation of 14 on the throne. 
>Short rest Hit Dice roll yields +6 to hp.