Well, that checks out, because it's also bigger than them. 

Lusilla gets some nasty wounds, ducking between this guy's axes and crusaders that were definitely about to die. Fluids that are even more emphatically than blood supposed to end up spattered around end up doing so. But you know what?

Grease. Grease is what. 

Whump. 

The minotaur is straightforward, if not easy, enough to put down, once it's already on the ground. And it seems to have been the cultists' last hurrah; taking it out doesn't mark the end of the battle, but the cultist efforts past that point are rather more ragged, and the assault breaks off after not too much longer. 

At which point there's little left to do but see to the healing of everyone who hasn't actually died yet. Most of the wounded have already been stabilized, but Lusilla can hand out Resistances to anyone who needs them, and she's continually grateful that whatever weird sorcerer variant she is is one that can do healing. 

Channels are more efficient. 

YEAH SHE'S ALSO REALLY GRATEFUL TO HAVE DAERAN AROUND, THAT'S 100% A THING. 

Irabeth and Anevia can be as annoyed with him as they want, Lusilla is hardly going to begrudge them that--but she wasn't around while he was ostentatiously refusing to pitch in; and right now, he's doing so. She's allowed to just like him, actually. 

After awhile, when everyone is as healed as they're gonna get and it's only up to time whether anyone caught anything from a demon's claws, Anevia firmly but gently shoos her off to bed, because Lusilla has reached a point of anxious fussing without actually accomplishing anything that Anevia has seen before. 

Thaaaaaat's fair. (Yawn.)

More dreams, of both the magic-message and weirdly consistent varieties. 

There's other work to be done in the morning. For example, Lusilla is, actually, the only one who can move the minotaur's corpse in one piece, and chopping it into pieces small enough for everyone else to move would be more, and messy, work.

...Lusilla wishes she knew his name. He's dead, and she didn't personally land the killing blow or anything, but she was certainly involved in the process of killing him, and while she really doesn't regret it--it was really unambiguously self-defense--it still bothers her that she doesn't have a name to mourn him by, or anything.

Not that she has names for any of the other demons, or the human cultists. 

Man, war sucks.  

Seelah swings by after awhile, once the minotaur is disposed of and some other miscellaneous heavy lifting has been accomplished. "Hey." 

"Hi!" Lusilla is sufficiently between things that she can hop down and give Seelah a hug.

Which is good, because Lusilla can really use a hug right now, after last night. 

Hug! 

"Anevia suggested we go out and see if the cultists left anything interesting behind at the Tower of Estrod, before they have a chance to re-occupy the place." 

"Ooh, that's a good idea. You already asked anyone else to come yet?"

"Nah." She wrinkles her nose. "You should be the one to ask Daeran, not me." 

Snort. "You're not wrong." 

Lusilla asks Daeran, and he says yes, on the grounds that he as always prefers to spend less rather than more time hanging around paladins. She gathers up a handful of others, and then they set out. 

Fortunately, none of the others is Camellia, because they end up having to kill some more wildlife on the way down to the Tower of Estrod, and nobody objects to Lusilla caching it to bring to Neathholm later. 

Seelah is kind of excited to see the Tower of Estrod! Specifically those weird spectral vision things of famous heroes, that she missed out on last time, if they're still there. 

When they get to the tower, the phantasms are still present, but mostly just standing there; they don't have nearly as much novel behavior to display as earlier. 

Oh well. Still cool. Especially the Yaniel one. 

When they step into the room beyond the hall with the phantasms in it, where the cult leaders were forming their plans last time, a tiefling with a painful-looking brand on his bare chest looks up. 

"Hey! Stop! Who are you? Crusaders! Well, well, well! I was looking to add a couple more crusader heads to my collection and all!" 

"Why just assume we're crusaders though? Where'd you get that idea, huh? I mean, do we look like crusaders?"

"Um..." 

"...Well, it's not like there aren't cultists goin' around dressed like crusaders or nothin'."

"Yeah, but they're generally worse at it."