Aubrey the Demented/Malformed |
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The smugglers hammer the last nail in the crate holding Camlo. A couple of them heft it up and head to the back of the warehouse. Out through a back door and down some rickety steps, they reach a short jetty, slippery with algae. Bumping gently against it is a skiff, tied to post, and they manoeuvre the crate into it. “Don’t drop it!” snarls the half-orc, “If he drowns we don’t get paid.”
With Camlo safely stowed four of the smugglers, including their leader, climb in to man the oars. They push off and begin rowing strongly away from shore, seemingly headed for the middle of the bay. At this time of the morning there are lots of other small craft milling around, and larger ships stand at anchor further out. The crew continue to pull at the oars, heading for deeper water. The Irespan arches overhead, casting a dark shadow. The ancient Thassilonian monument glowers at the ocean, its pilings of inky black stone challenging the power of the elements.
After about a quarter-of-an-hour an hour of rowing, the boat if well away from the shore and the bustle of the port. The half-orc calls a stop and they ship oars. “This should be the place.” There is a brief wait.
Suddenly there is a thud and a man suddenly appears in the bottom of the skiff. He falls to his knees to steady himself as the boat rocks from side-to-side. There is much swearing and cursing from the crew as he straightens up, wiping his trousers in irritation where they have got wet from the water in the bottom of the hull. “Shut it!” he snarls, “You think it’s easy jumping into a moving boat? S%*%, this has ruined this outfit.”
“F&!~ing mage! Sod your outfit! You nearly sank us!” replies the half-orc.
“F+%~ off, yourself. You’re getting paid, aren’t you. Is this him?” The new arrival, a human dressed in a rich maroon brocade coat of a fashionable cut, nods towards the crate.
“Yeah. He’s all yours.”
“Yeah, I know.” The mage leans over and places his palm on the crate. With a brief genuflection he, the crate and its contents suddenly vanish.
Scryers:
Aubrey the Demented/Malformed |
Camlo:
Camlo can hear the exchange in the boat, muffled through the walls of the crate. He then feels a stomach-lurching sensation, as if he is falling, and the sounds of the seas and the rocking of the boat abruptly cease. There is a ripping sound and the top of the crate is suddenly torn off, and rough hands reach in to grab him and haul him out. He sees the faces of a few thugs he doesn’t recognise, and one he wishes he didn’t: Marl, the Black Mark’s pet wizard. It was his voice, he realises, he heard in the boat.
He is in some chamber made of blocks of a dull black stone. The air is cool and still and the only light is provided by lanterns. He doesn’t recognise the place, although he assumes this is the Black Mark’s hideout, known only to his closest allies (which Camlo never was, even on a good day).
Marl gives his usual punch-able smirk. “Hello, Camlo. Nice to be back?”
Alwyn Agnarrson |
Scryers:
He stops pacing. "Vethran, what spell did he cast to get off the boat? If it is one with limited range, we can narrow down the search area considerably. He must have been in visual range in order to magically appear in the boat like that - that's not a long-range teleport spell. You, genius", he snarls at the Hellknight signifier, "keep focusing on the rowboat. Someone told them where to meet up with the wizard, and we might find out who by listening in. We're too heavily armoured to just 'port into the boat, so we'll need to wait until they hit the shore. Camlo should be OK for a while, if the Mark wants him to die slowly. Still, we shouldn't dawdle."
Vethran Tallomane |
Alwyn Agnarrson |
Scryers:
Vethran Tallomane |
Sefayll Valerian |
Aubrey the Demented/Malformed |
Camlo:
DC 10 History check.
They move from the ordinary corridor where they landed on to a wide landing. Broad steps lead up and down. The light from the torches cannot penetrate the gloom in these open spaces, leaving most of the area pooled in darkness. More of the reliefs cover the walls and crawl across the ceilings - cities crumbling, mountains crashing down, tidal waves sweeping people to oblivion. And, repeated as a motif, a seven-pointed star.
"Up here." Marl leads them up the stairs.
Illes Elandru |
Scryers:
Illes practically growls in frustration. "At this point our only solid lead is knowing what that guy who took Camlo looked like. Can you scry him Vethran?"
I wouldn't say these are good plans, but it is the only thing I can think of from my angle.
1) Scent. Do we have access to it? Probably useless, but if we could catch Camlo's scent from where they DDoored ashore it might be something. But inside a box it would be crazy difficult.
2) We D-Door in. I use disguise other on myself to take the appearance of the guy who DDoored out with Camlo. I bumble around pretending to be him for a while hoping to run into someone who knows him well enough to act as a lead and use suggestion or charm monster to find out more.
However- if you are sure that he must be in a pillar of the Irespan we may need to be taking a more direct approach. But is there any reason that we thought that other than one pillar happens to be in range? Many, many buildings and structures must be in range, right? Do we have anything at all pointing us in that direction other than it makes an iconic bad guy lair?
Vethran Tallomane |
Aubrey the Demented/Malformed |
Camlo:
They emerge in a large room. Shadows seem deeper and darker, like black curtains blocking off the further parts of the chamber. But the basic plan is clear enough. A long rectangular space stretches ahead, with a raised walkway down the middle leading to a dias. In the sunken portions to either side, assorted cutthroats, killer and murderers have assembled: the Black Mark's men, his band of spies, assassins and informants, the Company of Shadows. Some smile unpleasantly as Camlo is brought in, others scowl while many stare blankly, the humanity having drained out of them a long time ago. He recognises a few, but none greet him. The room is oddly silent, anticipation in the air.
At the far end of the room, on the dias, stands a statue in black marble. It is a humanoid figure, wreathed in long robes that conceal its sex, the features within the hood invisible in the dark. (Knowledge (Religion) check.) Below the statue stands a group of people, with whom Camlo is all too familiar.
A dwarf in heavy armour glowers, hands resting on the pommel of the massive hammer he is leaning on. This is Grugnar, notorious for his sensitivity to every slight and his willingness to retaliate with deadly force. Exiled from Janderhoff, he has been the Black Mark's ever-present bodyguard for many years. A strikingly attractive woman is with him, her long raven-black hair artfully styled and her dress clinging to her curves so effectively that, even in this moment of mortal terror, Camlo can't help but notice. Karlissa, the Black Mark's lover and the person from whom Camlo ill-advisedly stole and thereby landed himself in this mess, smiles in predatory fashion as Camlo is brought before her. Very little is known about where she came from, but she and the Black mark have become inseparable.
Between these two is a small, slender human man dressed in a sombre, close-fitting suit of dark material. His hand rests casually on the grip of the rapier at his side, the scabbard richly jewelled. His receding brown har is cropped very short and his pale eyes glitter as he watches impassively as Camlo is dragged along the walkway. He opens his mouth the speak in a surprisingly deep, refined voice.
"Camlo," says the Black Mark, "How lovely to see you once again."
Camlo Zenovia |
"Thassilonian? Is that expensive?"
Knowledge Religion: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Perception, just in case: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (3) + 14 = 17
Camlo stands, shifting his weight uncomfortably, wondering when the cavalry is going to arrive, and getting the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that it isn't.
"Ah, errr, yeah, it's a bit sooner than I'd ahh, hoped."
Vethran Tallomane |
Aubrey the Demented/Malformed |
Sefayll:
Scryers:
Camlo:
Sefayll Valerian |
Aubrey the Demented/Malformed |
Sefayll:
Scryer:
The signifier summons up an image of the top of the pylon. Waves crash against the black masonry. On the side can be seen the remains of a statue, mostly eroded away but which gives the pile of jutting masonry the name of "The Maiden". It is a famous landmark, in the harbour, but no one has ever identified a way into it.
Let me know when you want to teleport.
Sefayll Valerian |
Fatespinner RPG Superstar 2013 Top 32 |
Alwyn Agnarrson |
Scryers:
This is when I cast Bull's Strength on Hudak. Other buffs can wait until we get inside.
Vethran Tallomane |
Sefayll Valerian |
She turns to the signifier maintaining the image in the scrying device. "When we are gone, report in and let them know we need a squad mobilized to the area of the Maiden as soon as possible. It is unlikely that they will arrive soon enough to give the game away."
Caster Level Check: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25
I'm making my comments to the junior signifier with the assumption that they are 'in the know' already. My weekend was no better than my week - my spell list remains unresolved, but I have a mental list of what was going onto it. My gear has been mostly drawn up, but is not in her sheet yet, either. Seems like nothing in my life is getting completed lately.
Aubrey the Demented/Malformed |
Scryers:
Sefayll:
Aubrey the Demented/Malformed |
Camlo:
"Brothers! Camlo has returned to us. Our prodigal sneak thief is once more held to our bosom. The most accomplished burglar in Magnimar has come back to his friends. How we have missed him.
"But we all know that this is a bitter-sweet moment. For Camlio betrayed us. He stole from us, his own brothers. This cannot be allowed to fester. Camlo must pay the penalty, so we can all move on. But how should he pay?"
"Burn him!" shouts a voice from below.
"Use the flames to temper his soul, from base metal to the hardest adamantine? Hmm... Perhaps..." The Black Mark taps his lips thoughtfully.
"Scourge him!" cries another.
"The purifying lash? To peel away the unclean layers, and reveal his true self in the sight of our lord?" replies the Black Mark, his hand indicating the statue behind him. "It would be fitting, I suppose. But pedestrian."
"My love," purrs Karlissa, placing a slim white hand upon his shoulder. "Perhaps he should commune with the night creatures, to truly understand his folly?"
"The night creatures? Yes... Yes, that would seem to be the best approach. What do you say, brothers?"
There are general shouts of approval. But a Varisian woman pushes herself to the front of the group. Camlo recognises her - the Sczarni woman from the river inn. "You said you would give him to me!" she yells.
Camlo Zenovia |
"But.... B... Bu...." Camlo tries in vain to interrupt the Mark's rhetoric and protest his innocence, but can't make any headway against the crowd. The mention of Night creatures captures his attention for a moment, but then is lost as the women start to fight over him.... that has never happened before....
Any knowledge checks to work out what the hell he's on about? Not that I'll pass them, but it's worth a try....
Sefayll Valerian |
Sefayll Valerian |
Alwyn Agnarrson |
Scryers:
We'll tie a rope around Hudak's waist and then lower him down. No need to take risks, especially if mistakes will spill you into the harbour.
Sefayll Valerian |