Dain and Magill search the rooftops at the base of the square tower then head up the stairs to help Silas look around at the parapets where the hellhounds recently resided.
"Mmmm...I'm all for getting some rest. It probably wouldn't hurt to see what's in the central tower first, though. That's where you first saw the goat-headed demon, right Silas?"
Velika pouts, "That fight wasn't even long enough for a decent song!" She follows the rest of them around the space, looking for something interesting.
Velika keeps muttering to herself. "Maybe in a round? With a mighty swing ... with a might thrust ... he slashed the beast ... he pierced the beast ..."
The hell hounds don't seem to have been guarding anything except maybe the approaches to the round tower. There is nothing else of any value up here.
"Well, we can leave and rest. I'm not opposed to that, but we ought to consider visiting the Bladechapel and the Knights of the Pale. They were supposed to have cleaned this place out. Instead, there was a Rhodintor hiding up here. That was the goat-headed thing. It's known as the 'Lesser of the Galchutt', whoever the hell they are. I figure the Knights of the Pale might know, both because they were supposed to have killed all the demons here and because they know more about demons that probably anyone else in the city." He pauses. "Hey, maybe the ghost was a member of the Knights? Maybe he died here fighting the demons and his spirit is trapped here."
"I think going there in the morning would be good. They might know who the knight is and that might make it easier to lay him to rest. Although they may not like that we were in here as well if we are finding stuff they supposedly killed off years ago." Silas gathers his rope and begins heading down towards the front.
Dain scrunches up his face doubtfully, "Hmmm...I don't think...no. The journal makes mention of the ghost being present in the guard tower early on, at least two years before the Knights of the Pale showed up and cleaned the house out. Or...mostly cleaned the place out, anyway. So he isn't a Knight of the Pale. Or...ahh...at least probably not...certainly not one of the knights who fought the chaos cult and their demons. I suppose he could have been a knight who died here fighting a different battle - before the chaos cult's clairsentient brothel and madame moved in and started keeping journals."
Dain seemingly gets lost in a train of thought as he absent-mindedly scratches Magill behind one ear. Several minutes later he says, "Hopefully Brother Thisk will be able to tell us something more about Taunell tomorrow."
The eerie voice says "I must feed!" right into your ears, making you jump. Where is it coming from?
You make it to the front gate, which is not blocked. If you leave, where do you go? If you stay, what do you do?
"On our way out, I'd like to take another look at the statue."
Velika will look over the statue (without touching it at this time) and will also examine the two halves of the spiral contrivance.
If their mechanics are not obvious, she will spend some time trying to figure out how they might work, theoretically in conjunction with the statue. Any required research can hopefully done in the comfort of her home.
Something is very different about the statue. In its belly a secret compartment is now revealed, exposing a round depression. Velika notices that this depression is the exact size of the Spiral Contrivance, were the two halves of that artifact to be joined once again.
Tilver inspects the new opening, remembering not to touch the statue. "Well, that's interesting. It would seem to solve the immediate question about the statue, but who knows what this does when the contrivance is put in?"
He looks at the others. "But I think these are questions best answered tomorrow. Let's all head home and have a good night's sleep. Tomorrow, we can meet at the Bladechapel to ask the Knights what they know. Then we'll return to explore the tower, speak to the ghost again, and then figure out what this does."
Second
So you all go to your scattered homes. Who's got the Spiral Contrivance halves?
Okay! Everyone goes home. It's a short walk for Velika, who lives in Oldtown, but a very long walk for Dain, who lives clear out on the far side of town in the Warrens. Holys heads for Rivergate, Silas to the Ghostly Minstrel and Tilver home to his wife in North Market.
Dain, Holys and Tilver make it home without incident. Each of you please describe your walk and your home. What's it like? Do you meet friends? Lovers? Rivals? Who are they? Do you have a dog? Is there a squeaky step on the landing?
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Two men approach Silas on a quiet street in Midtown. One is a big bruiser with a long and foreign-looking polearm. He's human...mostly, but with something else in his ancestry. Something big. The other man is neatly dressed and apparently unarmed. He has a long, thin smoking pipe in his hands, the smoke still curling from it. "Somebody wants to talk to you," he says. "You're going to want to take time for the meeting." He gestures to a nearby dark and narrow alleyway.
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Velika walks up the two flights of stairs to her apartment, opens her front door, failing to notice that the lock has been broken. She is therefor utterly surprised when two thugs jump out at her from the shadows of her own parlor! It takes her a few moments to recognize them as ratlings.
Surprise Round
One of the two attackers manages to stab Velika hard beneath the ribs, drawing blood. It squeals in ratlike delight!
Velika retreats defensively heading back to the street.
Silas grits his teeth to prevent a yawn and then follows to see what they want with him.
Tilver enters the City Watch Station just as a wealthy, young man is exiting. He grimaces as Tilver passes, obviously annoyed at the Delver's presence. Inside, Tilver finds the Station bustling. A guardsman was leading two halflings in chains towards the back; a pair of Sisters of Silence stood near their eunuch as he gave a statement to a clerk; a lizardfolk was pacing around the waiting room; and two human guards were taking a break, drinking coffee. Tilver catches the eye of a Dwarven guardsman he recognized, who leans over to shout through a doorway. "Evie! Your delver fiancé is here! You'd better get out while you can. Smell's like he's got dinner too."
He points to a bench, indicating for Tilver to sit. "If she gets caught up in another report, I'll pay you for half that pie. Barely had time for a few bites of lunch myself. I'm starving. What's your name again? Tobon?"
"Tilver, sir." He scans the dwarf's uniform. "Inspector...Flagstone?" He sits and leans his longspear up against the wall.
The dwarf nods. He takes a report from a passing clerk, looks it over and signs it.
Then he comes out to speak to Tilver. "Hallion Flagstone. Most people 'round here call me Halley." He looks Tilver over. "Well, seems like you're not one of those green delvers who barely know the right end of a sword. Had my fill 'o those schoolboys. Good to see Evie has some taste."
A slim blonde comes rushing out of the back office, carrying a sheaf of reports. "Tilver! What are you doing here? Just one minute and I'll be ready!" She drops the reports off at multiple desks and then ducks into a room to grab her cloak and bag. As she heads back to the front, a guard begins yelling at her about some detail.
Inspector Flagstone cuts him off. "Jensen, let her go! The girl has a date. If you can't read it, get Keller to sound out the words for you!" He smirks at Tilver. "Go ahead, get out of here before someone else calls for her." He nods to Evie. "See you tomorrow, Evelyn."
Evie and Tilver rush out of the Station and walk towards the flat she shares with a friend. She hugs his arm as they walk. "I didn't expect you tonight! I thought you were still busy at that abandoned house. How's Velika? Ugh, it never stopped today. And Captain Andres yelled at us for losing a report. We still have no idea where it went." She sighs and then the smell of the mince pie finally registers. "Oh, that smells so good! Is that lamb?"
Tilver nods. "Yep, from a shop in midtown. I have it on good authority they are one of the best. I got a spice bread too. We'll see how it compares to Tavoh's. Velika is good. She found some weird chaos key. The house is spooky, got a ghost and everything. We're still not sure what's going on, but we're going to try and consult with the Pale Knights tomorrow." He left out the part about fighting for their life against the Rhodintor. Some things she didn't need to know.
"Well, come on. I'm starving! Flora won't be back until late. I think she's picking up an extra shift at the hospital." She unlocks the door and heads inside, kicking off her boots.
Tilver grabs her around the waist. "So we have the place to ourselves?" He grins and kisses her.
Evie laughs. "Yes, but food first! I'm not letting that pie get cold!"
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Velika must retreat down the stairs (difficult terrain), and does so with the two slavering ratlings right on her diminutive backside. Velika bursts out into the street screaming bloody murder, but the only pedestrians are a young mother and her two little girls. The woman clutches her daughters to her and shrinks against the wall.
The street is a narrow alley not far from the intersection of Eliphast Road and Dust Street, about halfway between the Clock Tower and the Delver's Guild Library. The ratlings rush her...
______________________________________________________________
The two men walk into the alley with Silas, one in front and one behind. There in the shadows he perceives a tall thin man with pale skin and bright eyes. He wears a neat suit of fashionable clothes and, like his subordinate, sports a long thin clay pipe. Silas can feel a sense of real presence about this man.
"You're the Dallimothan, Silas," says the man, without preamble. "The one they call the Dragoncat. I'd like to discuss a business proposition with you."
Silas takes a moment to try and remember what the man looks and smells like for future reference and then says, "I would be willing to discuss this proposition. But I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage as I do not know you and you seem to know quite a bit about me."
Dain walks back with Silas and Tilver along Emperor's Road, then Center Street. They part ways with Silas as he continues on towards Delver's Square, while Dain and Tilver turn south into Longbottom. When Tilver stops for pies, Dain continues south until he hits Iron Street, which he then follows all the way back to the Warrens. As he walks he occasionally speaks to Magill or greets the random city spirits he passes, while ignoring any strange looks or comments from the city's more commonplace pedestrians.
As he reaches Old Sea Road - the accepted border of his home district - Dain passes three of the City Watch, staring across the street nervously. Hmmmph...that's the closest they'll come to helping anyone in the Warrens. He shuffles past them and crosses the street. As he enters the twisting alleyways, he passes a group of four watchful toughs - Balacazar's men. Dain meets the eyes of one of the toughs, who stares for a moment, then nods. Dain smiles and nods back at him. Nemides. I healed him up after he took a half foot of steel in the gut from some rival gang and his mates left him bleeding on the street. Well, at least I won't have to worry about being hassled on my way home tonight.
A half a block later and he approached his shack. It looked like someone had left several flower blossoms in front of his door, and...is that a chair? Sure enough, a well constructed wooden chair stood, snug up against his front door. He admired the stout craftsmanship. Looks like Terrille's work. I told her she didn't need to repay me. She'll have enough trouble keeping her sister and her new niece fed. Still, it looks like it will be more comfortable than anything else he owned.
Dain carries the chair inside. He sits down to try it out, and before he knows it, slips into sleep.
Velika will run northeast toward the main road, continuing to yell for guards. If the ratmen look like they will choose to harass anyone else rather than follow her, she will stop and change tactics.
The ratlings balk at chasing Velika into a well-lit road. They hiss at her and retreat towards her apartment block before blending into the shadows and disappearing.
There are voices ahead and Velika makes for them, a quartet of clerks from some business or government office coming home after a late shift. They spot the bleeding gnome and instinctively swerve away. One, however, a serious-looking young human male stops and looks her over. "Are you alright, Little Mistress? Are you hurt?"
__________________________________________________________
The slender man with the pipe steps forward. Silas can see that his skin is pale and flawless as if shaped of fine porcelain. His lank blond hair hangs to his shoulders and his eyes are an arresting shade of ice-blue.
"Who I am doesn't matter," he says, stepping much closer to Silas than most humans are comfortable with. "What matters is that you listen. You're a Delver. That costs money. I just so happen to represent some very wealthy patrons who would be pleased to fund a serious delving expedition."
As the ratmen fade away, Velika scans the shadows trying to keep them in sight,
but as is so often the case, her mind refuses to focus on the task. Instead, it starts to compose the beginnings of a play where the wise heroine retreats from overwhelming forces, concern for her companions driving her to seek them out in case they were also under attack.
She turns at the voice of the the young man who offers her help and looks him over consideringly. Should he be a hero in this tale? Assist her in finding her friends? Give her aid in tending her wounds? No ... the heroine should carry on alone for a little longer.
She smiles up at the man, "Oh, thank you! I was beset by a ruffian in that alley, but he appears to have fled." She points back to the alley she emerged from. "Or at least, I hope that's true because there was a woman and her children in there! If you have any assistance to offer, could you check on them? My wound is not as serious as it looks and I'm not far from a friend's."
Having deflected the young man's concern, Velika hopes he will become the hero in a different tale. She heads for the Ghostly Minstrel in Delver's square, staying on well lit and populated Emperor's Road to Center Street. When she is a short distance away from the group of clerks she uses her best sleight of hand to surreptitiously use her wand of healing on herself.
The young clerk nods gravely and with some courage goes to check the ally. Velika is gone when he gets back.
Several minutes later, she is heading down the slope from Oldtown to Midtown, her wounds healed and the blood mostly disguised by her cloak. Just one more figure in the tens of thousands that throng the streets of Ptolus.
Silas nods, "My group and I might be available to help with finding something sought by these patrons. What item would we be looking for and where would we be going?"
"You mistake me," says the pale-skinned man to Silas. "Your adventures are no concern of mine. It is you who are interested in delving. My friends would simply be willing to fund your expeditions. They seek nothing from your underground forays."
"What they would like is a friend in House Dallimothan. Just a friendly ear. No more than that."
Silas nods and then says, "I see."
Silas looks at the man and shrugs after a moment, "To be honest, I think your Patrons would be better suited to look elsewhere. I am not fond of the cities politics and have little to offer your Patrons when it comes to most of House Dallimothan."
Silas gives a grin showing off his inhuman countenance, "Not everyone in the House is fond of my branch of the family tree. Still, I am a friendly sort and would not turn away a mutual friendship. But if the goal is to simply offer me funds for some future unspecified favors I cannot promise it will be so smooth for them and so I would need to refuse. I prefer to avoid unsavory politics and things that feel...wrong. And on occasion, I can be rather stubborn about that. If all they want is a friend, then that I can accept willingly."
"Favors are always unspecified," says the pale man. "Otherwise they'd be contracts. We want to do a favor for you so you'll be able to do a favor for us some day. That is how friendships start, I believe."
"At this time I have no need of any favors. But if you wish to keep in touch we can perhaps aid provide favors for each other in the future."
"You will regret this choice, Silas Silvermane. The people I work for don't take kindly to being told no. They can get rather obstinate about it. These are people you don't get to refuse."
He taps the ashes out of his pipe and nods to the two thugs, who move away from you down the alley.
"Rethink your choice of friends, Silas. Soon." With that the man fades back into the shadows and is gone.
The next day you are all assembled once again in Oldtown outside the gates of Pythoness House. You see no signs that anyone else has entered the place since you left.
On his way from the Warrens to Pythoness House, Dain would swing by the St Gustov's to see if Brother Thisk had a chance to learn anything about the ghost.
Dain finds Brother Fabitor assisting a trio of stout-looking dwarven delvers with their injuries. After some prayers for their health, he bids them good fortune in the name of Lothian and then they proceed to the Ghostly Minstrel to spend their loot gotten from below the city, in Ghul's Labyrinth if the dwarves are to be believed.
"Oh, hello Dain," he says. "I've got something for you. Come on in."
Inside the chapel's tiny rectory, Brother Fabitor gently lays aside his clerical garb and puts an old book on the table. "I found this in the Cathedral's records. It seems that your 'Pythoness House' once belonged to a noble family by the name of Kollotis. One hundred ninety years ago it was attacked by brigands seeking to steal the Kollotis family jewels. It seems that among the dead was a young Lothianite priest by the name of Taunell."
"Much later, when the house had become known for prostitution and supposed prophecy, devotees of a cult known as the Crimson Coil took over and used the house for some sort of terrible ritual...the details are glossed over here... to further some dark agenda called 'The Night of Dissolution.' Sounds ominous. Anyway, three years ago the Knights of the Pale raided the house, killing or driving off cultists and demons. To keep the survivors from returning, they used a powerful ritual spell to deny entrance to any chaos cultists."
"As for this Taunell, his remains are very likely still in Pythoness House. I think he may be your ghost. This book tells me that Taunell was a devoted follower of Lothian and died defending the house of his hosts. If his heart has not turned utterly to evil it may still be possible to reason with his ghost. Remind him of who he was and it may be that he will let you pass. But to truly do a good deed you must try to free Taunell from his attachment to the house. I do not know how to do this - you will have to seek for clues."
"I do not think you should fight him, even if you could. He let you retreat the first time, so he is not wholly evil. Remember that when you face him again."
Tilver arrives at the Bladechapel early, munching on a scone. He carries his longspear over his shoulder, ignoring the looks of people as he passes by.
Silas arrives at the chapel and nods to Tilver and scans the area to see if anyone is watching them as they wait for the rest to arrive. "Good morning. It was nice to sleep some where outside of that place."
Conveniently located in Oldtown a few blocks from Pythoness House, adjacent to both the Pale Tower and the Citadel of the Golden Cross, the Bladechapel is a two-story manor house that is really more of a miniature fortress. Its thick walls, high windows and frowning battlements would be easy to defend.
At the gate stands an impressively muscled human male garbed in the livery of the Knights of the Pale. His long blond mustaches droops below his chin. An equally impressive silver-hafted battleaxe of dwarven design hangs from his belt. His demeanor is calm but his eyes are alert.
"Good morrow," he says. "You're delvers or my eyes are getting old. What can I do for you?"
Tilver bows his head respectfully. "Sir, you are correct. Currently, we are exploring the old Pythoness House, following up on some stories. Since the Knights were one of the last to scour the old house for demons, we would like to speak to you about some of the things we've encountered in there. Would you mind us coming in to discuss the topic?"
"We would be interested in speaking to someone who took part on the actual attack on the cult as well. If you were not there perhaps you can direct us to one of your brethren who participated on the raid upon the cult at the Pythoness House. It would be interesting to hear what they witnessed and what actions they took to cleanse the place." Silas adds in when Tilver finishes explaining why they are here.
"Pythoness House, eh? I think I heard something about that a while back. Before my time, I guess. Well, I guess you'd better come in. I'll see if Lady Hillerchaun is seeing guests. I'm Dartalius Estalon, by the way."
Dartalius leads you across the Bladechapel's courtyard and into a well-appointed sitting room decorated with some two dozen fancy edged weapons from across the known world. "Make yourselves comfortable," he says. "I'll be back."
"Good to meet you, Dartalius. I'm Tilver Arnholm. Yes, we can wait. Hopefully, Lady Hillerchaun can speak to us." He smiles as the man leaves.
Tilver turns his attention to the various blades. "Well, I suppose it is known as the 'Bladechapel'"
Thanks to his detour to stop at St Gustav's, Dain is the last of the group to reach the Bladechapel - arriving just in time to follow Dartalius into the sitting room.
As they wait, Dain relates to the others what Brother Fabitor was able to learn about the ghost - Taunell.
"His tormented soul has been stuck there for...mmm...nearly 200 years. After we've finished our..ahh...mission and found the All-key, I would like to try and figure out how we can lay his spirit to rest."
As the group waits, Velika wanders the room, admiring the rich furnishings and quietly singing snatches of a fairly common bard's song about the Brothers of the Heart. She nods at Dain, indicating her agreement.
The Knights of the Pale are a small order dedicated to combating supernatural threats, particularly demons and spellcasters. Although not an official organization of the Church of Lothian, they focus their whole organization on the veneration of Lothianite saints. Their leader, Dierna Hillerchaun, bases the order out of her home, a manor in Oldtown called the Bladechapel. The knights work with the Keepers of the Veil and the angelic Malkuth.
The symbol of the Knights of the Pale is a sword thrust into a blue vortex.
Dierna Hillerchaun is a powerful paladin of Lothian, the founder of the Knights of the Pale and one of the Twelve Commanders who advise Commissar Urnst on the governance of Ptolus. She amassed a large fortune four years ago as one of the early delvers in the Dungeon and was a founding member of the Delver’s Guild.
Aside from Dierna, the most famous Knights of the Pale include Zophas Adhar, a male aasimar paladin/Knight of the Pale and member of the
Runewardens adventuring company, and the adventuring duo “Prince” Ironheart and Brig Stoneheart.
After a few minutes alone in the parlor, the team is joined by a well-dressed halfling. "Good morning Lady, Gentlemen. I'm Stillis. Lady Hillerchaun is indisposed at the moment, but desires you to be welcome to her home and bids me to aid you if I may. But first, have you had..."
At that moment, two extraordinary persons burst breathlessly into the room. The first is a massive figure, fully eight feet tall and nearly as wide, with the proportions of a dwarf but twice as big. A huge greatasxe hangs at his back. The other is seemingly a man made of metal, or a man whose skin has been coated entirely with metal.
"Stillis! Where is Dierna? There's a demon on a tower in Dweomer Street and it's terrorizing everyone below!"
The street has become host to a number of towers and rather large homes,
many prominently bearing the unique arcane mark that represents each
inhabitant as surely as a coat of arms represents a noble house. Most homes are converted to house a laboratory or workshop as well as living quarters. Not surprisingly, Dweomer Street also hosts a number of shops that sell spell components, alchemical substances, laboratory equipment and specialized tools, raw materials for magic item creation, and
other unique items that a wizard or sorcerer might need. There’s
even a mage-focused bar and eatery called the Pointy Hat, so named because of the habit (long out of fashion) of old-school wizards to wear tall, pointed hats with moons and stars on them.
Stillis rolls his eyes. "Of course there is. Right, excuse me," he says to you. "You're welcome to wait here." He rushes out to find Lady Hillerchaun while the giant dwarf and metal man regard you with impatience.
Silas frowns and looks at the strange pair, "What kind of demon? is it throwing spells into the streets?"