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Grimnir grabs ahold of one of his acidic flasks and hurls it at the mass of Red spiders.It looks to have great effect as a large portion of the spiders melt away.
Grinner rushes from the swarm and readies a massive fireball to burn the whole place down over a few spiders. A fireball in a residential district nonetheless.
Completely overwhelmed Reigan rushes inside one of the buildings where a young girl screams and rushes into her fathers arms. A blond haired older woman grabs a pot from the stove and begins to yell profanities at him, pointing to the door.
Gerard is able to fend of the poison and spiders crawling all over him. As does Terry.
Terry (37/43; -1 Cha)- 2 fort saves
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Spider Swarm (red -2)
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Grimnir (61/64)
Grinner (39/45)- ready fireball
Reigan (27/36)
Gerard (29/38)
Gerard pulls his Flask of alchemist's fire and readies to throw it next round.
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Gerard grabs an alchemist's fire and readies it as the four swarms rush in at all of the fresh flesh to tear apart.
The thousands of spiders bite every inch that they can, thugh not before Grinner releases his spell.
The fireball erupts and splashes all across the narrow alley. With little room to expand the blast blows out every window in the vicinity. Glass shatters in at family all around as panicked residents shakily peek out from their holes in their homes.
The alley around seems to shimmer slightly as it regains a bit of its color. Langston's increasingly violent thrashing stops. Immediately the color begins to drain from his body. Shaken by the haunt’s manifestation, distraught over Langston’s death, and grateful for the your protection, the other addicts submit to whatever questioning present, including their true association with Frell Tann.
Reynaldo and Nomi shakily crawl out from their hiding spots.
Frell lived with us in the alley until just a few weeks ago when he was hired by “some gang” that “looted an old temple or something.”
The last time we saw him he took us to the Night Market Fountain. Using some of his new money he bought some of the Shiver for everyone here. Nomi says solemnly as she looks over at Langston's corpse.
Frell traded a set of fine silverware engraved with the initials
“J.W.,” a “fancy gold brooch like a butterfly,” a mummified imp corpse, a “weird silver key,” and “a blue parakeet. in a bronze cag —that one he nicked from someone’s porch.”
Reynaldo interrupts Nomi. “He didn’t trade that big book, though. He thought he could get more from the book dealers or that lady who interprets dreams. Madam..... Madam Carrington”
I don't know who the dealer was since buying Shiver doesn't work like that but it was probably Greeley's crew.
Terry (19/43; -1 Cha)
Grimnir (43/64)
Grinner (21/45)
Reigan (27/36)
Gerard (11/38)
First things first. This time I'm going to remember to us a charmed life for a +2.
Terry was ready for the explosion and managed to get a barrel or something between him and the fireball at an opportune moment.
"Like sunbathing in the desert. Better than the spiders."
He listens to the answers and he perks right up when an old temple is mentioned.
Reflex
"Can anyone heal our wounds? This fire has left me a slight bit charred," Gerard grumbles. He doesn't even thank the addicts for information.
After getting healed and out of earshot, he talks to the others. "Well, they seemed full of information. An old temple, several items that could be cursed, and an old tome that was taken to a Madame Carington. Oh, and also the name of a crew...Greeley's. I say we take the book investigation first. Then we can go to the market and look for the other items, and finally we can put the pressure on the Greeley's. Everyone clear or object?"
"Can anyone heal our wounds? This fire has left me a slight bit charred,"
"Not me, though we have enough time to visit a temple if you have the money to pay them, which I don't. I guess its too early to ask for pay from the 'roll.
“He didn’t trade that big book, though. He thought he could get more from the book dealers or that lady who interprets dreams. Madam..... Madam Carrington”
"A book from an old temple, huh? I don't suppose all this nastiness with walking corpses, wierd spiders, and the rest of it began around then, did it?"
Grinner looks at the carnage, and the residents looking at him. Sheepishly, he says, "Sorry for all that, but I don't think you all wanted fatal spider infestations."
He gathers up anyone affected and begins healing.
"Seems like we have more leads to follow."
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Grinner heals the group as they head off towards Madam Carrington's place to do a bit of an investigation about the mysterious book.
Below a sign depicting a faded crescent moon, a cracked glass door opens into a waiting room adorned in once-fine appointments, now worn and faded by age.
Madame Carrington’s abode is little more than a 5-footby- 20-foot waiting room with several shabby chairs, and a single door leading into Carrington’s chamber beyond.
Carrington’s assistant is Maynard Colville, a quiet-voiced yet unyielding personality with a wispy mustache and an ill-fitting suit too small even for his tiny frame. Looking up as you enter he smiles.
Do you have an appointment?
Terry (43/43; -1 Cha)
Grimnir (64/64)
Grinner (45/45)
Reigan (36/36)
Gerard (38/38)
As the loud explosion rocks the alley way, Reigan braces the door, but tiny spider bodies fly through the broken window in massive numbers. "Err... Sorry, sir. Trying to not die to the swarming spiders outside!" he says apologetically. "Sounds like someone took care of them, though!" he says with a chipper tone as he tries to exeunt, but he is dragged back inside.
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Reigan catches up to the group as they make their way to Carrington's, though he is a gold coin lighter and sporting a nice bump on his head. Gently massaging the protusion, he gives a quick bow to Colville. "We were hoping to speak to the Madam about her recent run-in with a now deceased patron. We believe that he sold religious tome to her a few days ago and we are trying to figure out the cause of his death." he starts. "The poor sod was from a nobility branch line..." he adds with a forced smile.
Shrugging, Reigan places his hand crossbow into the cabinet and waits near the door, not really trying to pay attention to Colville's actions, though he is sure he'd be interested in the books.
Gerard placed what weapons he carried in the box. Madame didn't realize that he had her right where he wanted her, if it came down to it.
"Oh, this old thing?" Grinner places his spear in the cabinet.
Trying to be a good patron, he quickly says, "We appreciate you doing this for us." He passes the time taking inventory of all his alchemical remedies and knick knacks.
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With all of your weapons securely stowed he stands and ushers you into a dimly lit 20-foot-by-20-foot room beyond. Carrington’s chamber features a half-dozen wooden folding chairs, Carrington’s large quilted couch, and six potted (thus stationary) and well-fed xtabay plants. Nearby, a low table holds an automatic writing planchette atop large sheets of paper, a battered talking board, and an assortment of candles.
Madame Carrington, a middle aged human woman, lays across the couch. She is dressed in a black mourning dress, several decades out of fashion and her face is frozen in a grim rictus. Her eyes reveal a min full of smoldering dignity.
She stares at you with painful eyes as the writing planchette suddenly jerks to life. Letter by letter it glides across the paper.
“You come to question the living or the dead?”
"Perhaps both. Living first, though. We need to speak with you about a time you might have recently come in possession of. And then we might need to speak to the dead man who brought it here."
I really don;t like leaving my rapier behind, but sleight of hand might not be enough to trick a psychic. Best to just play it safe!
"Be careful with 'Final Rest', will you? I get separation anxiety."
by his gestures it is obvious he is referring to the blade.
Grimnir frowns and strokes his beard.
"We're meanin' tae ask about th' book first," he says in response to the query about the dead.
"I assume you don't get many shiver addicts offering you mystical cursed books that often, do you? Tell us about the book first."
Grinner watches her carefully to determine if she is truthful in her statements.
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Grinner watches the woman's movements to tell if she is simply telling he truth. This proves easier said than done as she is not physically speaking or moving any any way.
Frell Tann sought me out several days ago. Tried to sell me a large journal of the faith of Desna, and a key of precious metal, but his price was too exorbitant, so he sought another purchaser.
“His soul was stolen by the cult’s crooked witch, who seeks the key.”
"Perfect. I appreciate the information. What cult and who is thknows witch are the next questions that pop to mind. And then after you tell us what you know, I think talking to the boy, Frell would be our best course."
Heal
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"Perfect. I appreciate the information. What cult and who is thknows witch are the next questions that pop to mind. And then after you tell us what you know, I think talking to the boy, Frell would be our best course."
The cult are the spider’s poisonous webs that have ensnared the slumbering minds of the lucid. The Night Market's foul dreaming drug is at fault.
I suspected the drug was behind at least some of this.
"Yes but what cult? A name or address or something would be appreciated."
Reigan, content to listen as he scans the room, meander around and picks up a shiny bauble on a nearby table. Listening to each cryptic message, he tries to determine the problem plaguing the woman, but is at a loss.
Finally deciding to speak, he sets down the trinket and look at her directly. "Perhaps there is something that we can help you with and you can provide us with a name or location?" he asks with a slight bow. "We are quite adept at such things."
"Aye...maybe a trade is in order," Grimnir says to support Reigan.
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There is little you can do to help me. She answers to Reigan in his quest for some sort of a trade.
The Brotherhood of the Spider seeks to disrupt the dreams.
With that her planchette falls from the table and ceases to move further. A small groan escapes her unmoving dry lips as she continues to stare onwards at you.
"Is that it? Do we get to ask questions from Frell too? She sure does not look well. How long has she been like this?"
She directs her question to the man that took the weapons.
"Mi lady, could you be a little more specific? I don't quite understand what you mean." *Ribbit*
"Anyone care to check for a pulse? Perhaps this ones time has come. At least she gave us good Information before she passed.". The others get the feeling Gerard is either uncaring or just trying to be professional, or both.
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Hearing the commotion Maynard whisks back into the room. He carefully picks the planchette back up and sets it on the table. Moving over he very carefully readjusts Madam Carrington into a more comfortable position before approaching Gerard.
"I do apologize. The Madam is exhausted and will need a bit of time to rest. Might I schedule you in for a later time?"
"She doesnae look so good," Grimnir says. "Guess we're dain here."
"I have some healing capability. Perhaps I can help her, although if it's something other than wounds it may have to wait until I can commune with the spirits again."
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The servant looks a bit amused at Grinner. I am afraid your healing will have little effect here. You see, the Madam has a degenerative muscle disease that has left her wholly paralyzed. She can't even speak a word. Using her board and speaking with the dead takes a bit out of her. She will be alright, just needs a right bit of rest is all.
Reigan, looking oddly at the paralyzed person, wonders about the veracity of such claims, however he has nothing else to go on.
"Fine. We should head to the Night Market." he says definitively. "She mentioned it and the people in the alley mentioned it."
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Reigan will try to gather information on the Market and any underworld dealings to try and find the right connection there.
Good idea. Terry will also use his skills to try and track down where Greely is currently located.
Gerard nods. "To the Night Market then. Maybe Greeley's crew works out of there," he suggests.
Grimnir helps gather information about where Greely might be, but ends up with another tankard of ale instead.
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Reigan recalls a small bit about the Night Market. The Night Market is so-named not because of any unusual operating hours, but because its location in the shadows of the Old Wall means it sees very little sunlight. Known for its famous “Red Oliphaunt” landmark—the fading remnants of an old, massive signboard—this thriving market provides Bridgefront’s citizens with an open venue for the barter-and-trade system that exists in the absence of much coin-based wealth. Dozens of merchants set up here regularly in both permanent stalls, in temporary tents, or on plain rugs. Alongside mundane goods, secondhand supplies, household items, and plenty of food carts, the market is rife with drug dealers, fortune-tellers, psychics, and seers.
The remainder of the group wanders around the area for several hours asking about Greeley and the Brotherhood of the Spider. More than once eyes are turned and doors are slammed shut as noone wants to seem to talk about them, whether they don't know or out of fear it is difficult to discern.
After roughly four hours of getting little to no answers Grimnir stops in at a local run-down pub and finds a grimy tankard of stale ale as night begins to fall. Bringing up a bit more of the conversation Grimnir overhears a small bit of useful information. Greeley seems working out of a small shack near the Breakwater Pier. (Area E). Supposedly he is supplying and creating Shiver by means of the shack one man whispers as he claims to have hauled some of it away for him.
"Sounds like we know our next destination, then, unless any of you need to pick up supplies here at the market. If not, let's get to business."
"No business from me until the 'roll pays out. Let's head out. Night time may be more dangerous, but it could also be more suitable for what we have in mind."
Namely spying, though with the way we've been spreading names around they have to know we're coming eventually.
Grinner grabs his spear as he leaves and reminds others to do the same. "Let's light up the night."
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Leaving the inn the sun has just recently set as the narrow streets are lined with plentiful lights and just as many shadows. Heading out right away the group makes north for the Breakwater Pier. The pier looks to have quite a few people milling about. A few low level shiver dealers and many addicts are littered all about the long pier along with dozens of shacks. It would take all night to investigate each and every one of them.