Knowing better than openly reveal her disdain for the Asmodeans, Fate has remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout these proceedings. As if to make up for the lack of audacious proclamations and orders, she has taken up even more imperious gestures and body language, standing behind the others with her arms crossed, giving-off a stoic inscrutability only enhanced by her mask and hood, as though she was some driving force behind this party.
However, her facade is not particularly effective, and her behavior reads more as impatience and frustration. As Fate walks behind Sarcon, she mutters under her breath, "Hmph. Devil-worshipers."
Victor, after having clumsily tumbled off his steed, crumbling into a pile on the ground and having taken care of his sore, nearly wounded legs legs, returns to the other less-than-morally-ambiguous individuals. Seemingly just in time as his sudden coughing fit might suffer to tone out Fate’s less than stellar performance in the diplomatic area. After having apologized profoundly for his bad health to the greeter he resigns himself to total silence.
His facial features doesn't seem to betray any thoughts upon the manner of the villager's worship.
Crystal hears the Doc trying to converse and sighs. Her plan had been to engage the villagers after they had entered the hall. She shrugs, coming back over and immersing herself back into the conversation.
"Yes, tell us more of this priest and why he has remained hidden these past few years, please."
As Victor and Victoria remain silent and Crystal joins the good doctor in diplomatic fact-finding, Sarcon approaches the door to the hall, eager and muscly. He tries the door and finds it not readily opened. He makes a dramatic gesture of producing his crowbar and shouts at the door "I shall not be denied!" Just before he wedges his crowbar into the doorframe, a cultist opens the door from the inside. "Oh." she says simply, her robes somewhat bloodied near where she carries a ceremonial dagger. She rushes past the imposing Sarcon as he stands momentarily bewildered, coming to grips with the revelation that the door opens the other way.
The cultist before Crystal and the doctor responds. "We don't eat with outsiders, not 'til they've paid dues to Asmodeus anyway. As for the wanderer, once he saved us and taught us some about Asmodeus, he built this hall with some strange manner of creatures. Locked himself inside. We do offer animals at the hall, but I can't say if he takes them or not. Not sure what his secret is, but even when we was with us he didn't seem to eat much. All that to say he said he had to fulfill his contract, and we haven't heard from him since."
Curious, Crystal cocks her head. "What manner of creatures helped the wanderer? What did they look like?"
She notes the door opening and the cultist exiting. So apparently the villagers actually went inside. Perhaps it would be quite simple, then.
"Can't say I ever got a good look at them. Wore large cloths, like curtains or sheets. Mostly came out at night. Strange sounds, that I remember."
"I think it's perhaps time to pay homage to my Prince." She smiles charmingly to the cultist before going to join Sarcon.
Sarcon enters, Crystal following shortly. The hall is simple enough, an interior composed of wood and decorated with animal horns and pentagrams. Beyond the small common room, a red curtain serves as a partition to some inner area. The curtain splits in the middle with a sign hung above that reads "Cast Down your Eyes in Reverence". A cultist stands near the door, washing his hands in a basin of what appears to be blood. "Welcome to the temple. Our lord Asmodeus judges our offering. You must wait to approach the altar."
Crystal's nose flares at the order, but she otherwise remains calm, nodding her assent to the cultist. She holds out a hand to halt Sarcon, figuring he would try to bull right through.
Victor pauses just behind Sarcon and with a waft of his hand he pulls out a diminutive notebook bound in black leather, the moment after a feather pen and a large ink flask join the notebook. Victor merrily begins recording the events as they transpires, especially noting down the after prayer ritual of washing your hands in vitae.
“A refreshing breath of religion, disciple. One does wonder why that regiment of paladins bearing the marks and symbols Iomedae is heading in this certain direction. When we were headed here, they seemed rather aggressive and spoke loudly about a target in this very area. Perhaps you might wish to prepare your defences near the southern part of the town?”
Crystal resists the urge to slap her forehead as the necromancer starts spouting nonsense, assuredly trying to draw the cultists away from the building and the party. She instead stands there and says nothing, watching with amusement to see how this plays out.
"Oh no!" she says and rushes out, leaving Sarcon's words hanging in the air. Outside, some commotion is heard.
Good ending or not, the distraction had drawn the cultist away. She nods at Sarcon to meat shield his way through the entry way. Crystal will follow close behind, pulling her bow out and nocking an arrow. Just in case.
Sarcon enters the inner area of the hall and finds a 5ft wide pentagram table standing before a statue of a man with cloven hooves. The man looks down upon the table, whereupon lies a lump of slowly burning cloth that smells of burnt hair and seared flesh.
Crystal will examine the burnt cloth, eyebrow arching at the smell.
Next the statue:
Finally the table itself:
As Sarcon examines the statue, he notices a subtle door in the front of it, just large enough for a man to squeeze through. However, whatever chamber may lie inside was clearly no bigger than a small closet, and certainly no living quarters.
The cloth, upon quick inspection, appears to have been a cultist robe.
Crystal watches Sarcon in consternation, as he almost seems to be arguing with the charred piece of clothing. She looks around the rest of the room out of curiosity.
Fate looks around the room as well.
And she notices absolutely nothing except the obvious information.
"Vell, vell. It seems that someone vas cooking in here."
Doc, having finished his conversation, follows the others into the tent, thingie...
Inside as Victor chases out the cultist, he chimes in carefull now. I do believe we want to be on good terms with them when we depart.
Also, Crystal. This is your territory. Is it acceptable by you to do this to a temple of your own?
Regardless. Doc then takes out an extract of Reduce person, drinks it then attempts to follow Sarcon.
Crystal waits to see what happens to Sarcon and the Doc as they go through the door. If nothing in particular happens, she will follow.
Sarcon attempts to take the cloth and put it out, then don the once-robes. While he does so, he notices that what used to be wrapped in it appears much like a cooked humanoid.
Crystal notices the table has a post at each corner of the pentagram, but she's not sure what they might be for.
Crystal looks at the posts curiously. She would assume they would be used as anchors to use rope to secure whatever...sacrifice happened to be in the pentagram, but she hasn't noticed any rope or restraining devices. She snorts in amusement and disgust as Sarcon dumps the charred 'humanoid' out of the robes and puts them on.
She will go up to the table, examining the posts more closely.
Sarcon finds himself unable to force the door open.
Crystal notes nothing in particular about the posts. Each one appears about half a foot long and serves no obvious purpose. They are, however, unusual for such an altar.
Sarcon finds what looks like a socket, perhaps a form of keyhole, but he doesn't see anything that would fit into it.
Sarcon is unable to find a key. He takes several moments to heave and pry at the door, but is unable to budge it.
Crystal ponders a moment, then starts testing the posts, to see if any come out of the table.
Hmmm. Lets see if anything can be done about this lock.
"Hold a moment, good Doctor."
She was sure this place would open its secrets for her, a follower of the Prince, if only she was persistent enough.
Crystal finds nothing amiss with the posts, nor any moving parts. The offering continues to burn slowly in the center of the table.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Crystal will turn her attention to the offering itself, taking a closer look.
Sargon begins to feel warm and fuzzy. Then hot and sticky. Then, he begins to cook.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Sarcon jumps off the table before he starts to cook, clearly agrivated at this point, he makes for the door.
"That does it! I'm going to find me that girl that ran out and have here explain this to me."
Sarcon looked around for the girls that left the building, asking people where the girl with the fancy knife got to.
Crystal smiles a little at the challenge, her brow furrowing in concentration. She grabs a post, exerting pressure, seeing if the post is a means to perhaps rotate the table itself.
Sarcon runs outside and spots the cultists bustling around, seeing a group of a few women huddling near one of the huts. One of them appears to have fresh blood on her hands.
Crystal finds the posts, and indeed the table itself, immobile.
Brow knitting further, Crystal decides to go back to the beginning. She washes her hands in the basin of blood, then casts down her eyes at the red-curtained entryway to the inner sanctum, as she was instructed to do to begin with.
Well. I am at a loss. The only thing i can think of is that we need to make a "propper offering" and maybe that might change something? Crystal, i shall defer to your expertise on what a propper offering might be?
Oh. I also believe that Sarcon just raan out the door while still wearing th burnt offerings clothes. We may soon have a problem on our hands...