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[Jon Potter]

Ayremac’s thoughts wandered briefly as the group pondered their options.

How things had changed in his life. When he thought back… to Arland, his former self, the human who strived to achieve respect in the world of politics in his small community did not even seem like him. It was a completely different person who walked home at night to his wife and family. At that time, his faith was something he used to meet more people in the community. It was an obligation, a part of his routine. Even his own angelic blood was something he thought of as a small piece of his mother inside him… not something that was within his power to tap into, but simply a part of his history that made him who he was.

Now, floating in another dimension, Ayremac... Ayremac the Warrior of Umba, the Holy Warrior of Umba, the faithful follower of his Justiciar, student of his church, and worshipper of Umba... felt as if he had finally come into his own.

He was no longer numb to his heritage and the divinity of the Gods around him. He was no longer feeling the searing, blinding pain of loss. He was no longer unsure of his capabilities amongst trail-tested adventurers.

Ayremac was ready to be strong for those around him, strong for those who would perish in a world where Aphyx was powerful, strong for those who would take the Walk of One Hundred Days. He had seen many things on the trail, and could feel Umba’s wisdom guiding him to make decisions that would allow him to work with this team better than he had the last. He needed them to achieve his goals, and although he could not forsake his faith, he would not expect others to tip-toe around it.

Ayremac caught himself… this was not the time for this sort of reflection. He made a mental note to pray on this later, but now…

“Maleko, Del… What do you propose?" he asked his companions. "Do you think we should charge in? Challenge the leader? Or search the outside for other entries?”

"There are no other entries," Grandfather Plaque reminded.

"The idea of challenging Gisir Okemocik is interesting," Del said, thinking aloud. He and Ayremac shared a glance and the holy warrior nodded.

“Yes, interesting… Could we use a duel as a distraction?" Ayremac considered. "What do we know of how these duels take place?”

"I don't think there's any formality to it," Maleko said. "But if you challenge the leader to a duel he'd be honor-bound to accept. If he did not he'd lose face in front of his troops and likely end up shipped back to the Lich-Queen on Tu'narath, the githyanki capital. Not a pleasant fate, let me tell you. The Queen Vlaakith sucks the life from any who fail to-" Cerakean shoved him in the shoulder, cutting his recitation short and earning herself a startled look.

"Save the lecture for after we rescue angel eyes' friends," the hobgoblin growled, cocking a thumb at Ayremac.

"So we're going to challenge the leader of this place to single combat?" Ixin asked, looking around at the assembled faces.

"I say we go in with lots of bravado and claim the right to challenge the leader, yes," Ayremac said with a nod and a grin. Cerrakean laughed.

"Yeah!" nothing can go wrong with that plan," she scoffed.