Shen
As you lay in wait by the tent, eventually you see the figure of Shen approaching. He glances around, eventually making his way over. As he approaches the tent, he peers through the ruined frame of the tent. "Colonel Geoffrey, I am sorry to come so late, but I was, er, concerned. You don't quite seem yourself, were your hurt badly?"
[/dice]
He looks shifty!
[dice=Fort Save for "tea"]1d20 + 1[/dice]
Once finished with them, Dalton turns to Lindale. "What did you think of them? Other than Fenrir being a few buckets short of a barrel, I couldn't really say."
Gabriel looks to the disguised noble and quickly shakes his head, then walks over to Shen and offers his hand to the man. He was visibly relaxing now. The fact that the man came, and seem so genuinely concerned, was enough for Gabriel at least. "Its no worries. We're just glad you came. There's not much that can be done when scouring over this tent but maybe... you can tell us how strong the person who created the scroll was? It'd give us a guess as to what we're facing tomorrow at least. We'll have to be going shortly. Still a lot of things to check before tomorrow..." He groans just a little at the thought, but inwardly thanks Iomedae he didn't have to speak any lies. He was a horrible liar.
Whether or not the man took his hand, the tiefling would turn around and inspect the wreckage, his tail twitching behind him. "They had so much backing them, its clear they wanted Sir Geoffrey out of the way. But how much could they have left after the army's gone through so much of their land and resources? Anything you can tell us about the strength of this caster would be beyond valuable.
Understanding dawns on Shen, and his already pale face gets ghostly white. "You think one of us did it. I'm a suspect, aren't I? That's not even Colonel Geoffrey over there, is it?" He sits down, hands visibly shaking. "You know I had to work extremely hard to get to my position. I wasn't native to Andril, I was born in the North. I had no connections, no people to help boost me up. I still hardly know anybody, and despite Geoffrey barely knowing my name I consider him a close friend." He looks up. "I guess I should have saw this coming. Outsiders are always suspect first. I'm sure you have had to deal with that." He says, looking at Lindale. As the stress of the situation gets to him, he simply sits there, lost in his own thoughts.
Gabriel considers the mans reaction for a moment, then offers him a hand. "We had to be sure. Honestly, almost everyone is a suspect. But I wasn't kidding about what you could do to help either. We need to know how strong this person is, and I'm told you have some... experience with explosives?" He shakes his head slowly, "Colonel Geoffrey was injured. Badly. Someone really wanted him dead. And right now, you can help us, maybe give us a clue as to who that was. Can you, with your experience, tell me anything about the strength of the spell used to take down this tent? Anything else you could think of, looking at it?"
Shen listens carefully to Gabriel, then shudders and takes a deep breath. "Yes, yes you're right. I'm sure I can help." He stands slowly, then walks over to the scorches and starts examining them. After a moment his brow raises, and he casts two small cantrips. After a moment a small humanoid creature with thin, leathery wings, small horns, and a mischievous smile appears. "Yemis, I'm going to need you". After a few minutes of investigating the site, he finally stands up, massing his lower back. Although he still seems a little shaken, he seems in better spirits than before. "I can tell you two things. One is that the manifestation of the fire is only used by humans. You see the double curve patterns on the ends? That is a stylistic flare that Mordenkainen introduced. Another is that despite the intensity of the fireball, it was scribed by a more powerful caster. Normally you completely open the flow of magic during evocation spells, only giving it a purpose and direction. It's release of raw energy and will only create as much power as the caster can demand of it, so when you get to the fringes of the damage you can see it tapering off and subsiding. However, look at these burns. They are completely symmetrical. Whoever made this scroll was holding back, this was a novice spell for them."
He seems to know what he is talking about. Maybe I misjudged him.
Gabriel's tail flickers as he watches the man work, then nods slowly. "Is it typical for a spellcaster to hold back like that when creating a scroll? Was he trying to hide the fact that he was stronger, or was it simply some sort of procedure I don't understand?" The tielfings long ear began twitching with his tail as he glanced at the winged creature. He had no -idea- what it was, but it reminded him of his own horns for a brief moment. He ignored the creature, uncertain of how to deal with it, and instead focused on Shen. He was genuinely impressed that the man could see so much in what looked like rubble and ashes to him. He even says so. "I can't even see half of what your pointing out honestly. Thank you.
"Well when a spellcaster who knows more spells than they can prepare in a day is in the service of many, they often keep scrolls of various types, and of those types of various strengths. It keeps some of the strain off of us, although it is a bit more paperwork. We never know what we might be asked day to day, so some of the less commonly cast spells we have copies of."
That thing though was another matter.
Gabriel nods slowly. It wasn't much, but it was something, and he was certain that someone smarter then him could make use of that information. "Thank you again Shen." He offers his hand to the wizard a second time, this time in gratitude, and tries to look the man in the eye. "I'm sorry about all this, I really am. Thank you for helping. If you can think of anything else, please feel free to try and get in touch with us. You should probably head to bed now. We've all got a long day ahead of us, but unlike me, you're not just a simple grunt." He chuckles at the slightly self depreciating joke, then, whether or not the man took his hand, turns to the others.
When they were done asking questions or saying their piece, if they had any of either, he would speak up again."Come on. We've got to get going." He offers a nod to Shen, then tries to usher the group toward the next trap, hoping that those with sharper eyes then he would make sure they weren't being followed.
Shen smiles weakly, and nods, taking your hand. "If I can think of anything or find out anything I'll ask for you by name, Gabriel. Could you...could you tell Geoffrey I hope he recovers? And I would really like to see him sometime. Not for anything serious, just to talk."
Gabriel nods, "Of course I will Shen. And please, try not to take being a suspect personally. After what happened..." Gabriel shakes his head slowly and gives the mans hand a good, firm, but not hand breaking, shake. "It pained Colonel Geoffrey to think anyone at all might be a traitor. But he's currently healing and this group here is the one running the investigation. And we aren't willing to take any risks when it comes to Sir Geoffrey's life." The tiefling releases the mans hand. "Go get some rest, Sir. You're going to need it tomorrow. And please, be careful. I'll offer a prayer to Iomedae, that she might watch over you in the battle."
Lindale keeps to the shadows as they move towards the tunnel, constantly on the lookout.
Fenrir
It's not long before you hear somebody approach...but the sound is very faint, Lindale just barely picking it up. Eventually you see a tiny figure approaching. It is a tiny monstrosity that has the body of a well-muscled man, a crown of frilled horns, and eyes that glow like rubies. He navigates his way through the dark, mumbling loudly enough to hear "Oh yes, send me, send the slave. Brilliant choice." He walks into the tunnel, then peers around, talking a bit more quietly. "By The First, where is the Colonel?"
Asmodeus . . . a tricksome god always perverting the the holiness of spreading order.
Gabriel was rather surprised when he heard a voice. Almost instinctively he does as Toramin did, though he wasn't sure why he hadn't thought of it before. Perhaps he wasn't as focused as he thought he was. His eyes, the iris colors swirling even faster from one to the next, fall upon the creature walking down the hall as he opens himself the evils of the world. He had no idea what it was, but it appeared to be a devil, and it was most certainly evil. Worse yet, it seemed that they truly did have a traitor in their midst. Gabriel resists the urge to draw the sword until the creature was just a little closer and thanked his goddess that he could see in the dark. With a rasp of steel his blade is torn from it's sheathe and he steps forward into the star light from outside the tunnel. As quickly as he could, he would try and move around the demon to block escape.
The humans should outlaw the use of evil spirits as slaves and minions. Why isn't Gabriel speaking up for "Geoffrey"? Otherwise, how will we know if this particular minion of evil is involved in the assassination attempt?
Bjorkus watches from his cover.
What the hell is that?
"Why is a vile creature like you out and about?" Gabriel asks, looking down at the thing he had moved behind. Whatever it was, it almost made Gabriel feel sick being this close to it. Geoffrey had taught him how to detect evil of course, but the power was so... offensive when it was being used. It was like opening ones very mind to the dark and hateful nature of evil things. He had only ever once seen true evil before. Geoffrey had him practice, once, at a trial for a deserter found out to be a murderer trying to escape. He had spent most of the night throwing up. He levels his sword at the imp... thing, his eyes quite literally flashing with the spell, his irises practically prismatic, reflecting a myriad of lights like a crystal when there was none shining in this dark hall way.
The devil casually turns around as he hears Gabriel. "About time! I need to get back soon, or else Fenrir will..." He trails off as he sees a tiefling, a paladin, holding a sword to him and blocking his escape. It gets silent enough you can hear a pin drop...then the ugly little creature screams like a mutated monster of a little girl and begins running panicked thru-out the cavern. As it runs past he stabs Dalton with a forked, sharp tongue, then he runs directly up the side of the cavern and continues his rampage on the ceiling.
Seeing the little fiend attack the dwarf is all the minotaur needed to see.
Bursting from behind his cover with a roar, the hulking brute rushes towards the conflict.
"What is that thing?" he rumbles.
"This is not a clear sign of guilt, but why did that human think it was a good idea to send an evil spirit. Why even conjure it in a paladin's army?"
Bjorkus stares up at the tiny monster.
"Listen you little s+*+, you come down here right now or I'm gunna bring you down and you won't like what's next", the half-minotaur growls as he cracks his knuckles.
Moving in Geoffrey’s armor is more difficult than Psotheos anticipated. He hopes the awkwardness and slowness he displays makes the disguise more effective. If he has to fight in this armor and with this sword he knows he will be at a severe disadvantage.
In the tunnel, the little monstrosity surprises him and a few others judging by their reactions. Before he can form a convincing sentence to speak, the creature stabs Dalton with its tongue and rampages on the ceiling.
”Will it speak to us?” he says trying to sound like the Colonel. He nearly laughs at Bjorkus’ commands to the monster. ”Is it capable of telling the truth?”
The creature doesn't pause in it's mad rampage around the ceiling, knocking down loose dirt and rocks. "No! You are inferior fleshlings! You can't reach me up here!" The creature stops, then smiles smugly "Hey, you can't reach me up here!" It sits down on the ceiling, then makes an obscene gesture. "Oh I never lie, no-sir-ee, couldn't tell a lie if I wanted to. Don't you know, all devils are angels?" It smiles, a grotesque sight.
Bjorkus issues a bass growl, "This is yer only warnin'."
The creature twirls, facing Bjorkus. It looks ready to give a sharp witted retort, but he gulps before continuing. "O...or what? You gonna shave yourself and drown me in it?" The little monstrosity is clearly not thrilled about having Bjorkus as an enemy.
Bjorkus narrows his gaze and gives an angry snort.
"Or I'm gunna climb up there, grab you, wring yer scrawny little neck, and then use yer broken body to scrub my nuts", the bull says as he jams his weapon into the earth and puts one meaty hand on the wall for a grip.
Toramin turns to one of the foot soldiers. "Please run and fetch an net."
As he sees a body of people mobilizing just to detain him he licks his lips. "Fine, fine! I'll talk. I may be given the stripples by Fenrir, but it's better than dying. Or having that particular pleasantry." He glances at Bjorkus. "I'm not coming down unless I know I'm not gonna get hurt." He sits there with a stubborn expression. There's a pause, then Tiasar begins speaking in infernal. "Y knyzyka, ci dra Jong Knyrra ryzkamv, drod ry ronz ymm ryza dy iy." The creature glances around suspiciously for a moment, then comes down and sits on a rock. "Well, let's talk than."
Bjorkus pulls his weapon free and straps it into its harness. He closes on the fiend and stands so that he looms uncomfortably close to the tiny figure. He glares down at it and gives another angry snort.
"What were you doin' here?" the minotaur rumbles.
The little creature shrinks in the shadow of Bjorkus, glancing at Tiasar, then murmurs. "Fenrir sent me, he wanted to see how Geoffrey was doing. Also to tell him that he believes the explosive is ready for tomorrow." The creature looks like he wants to add on a little flare and obscenities to this, but he glances up at Bjorkus and thinks better of it.
His story checked out, but the bull wasn't satisfied yet. He crouches down until he can see the creature eye to eye. He snorts again sending a cloud of hot breath over it.
"I think you owe the elf an apology."
"Why did he not come himself?"
"Said he was too busy seeing if he poisoned somebody by giving them the wrong thing in some tea." The creature mumbles something that sounds like 'apology' sarcastically, but turns to the plump half elf. "I'm sorry you looked like the easiest target in the room. Tiasar's a binder, the dwarf and the bull could squash me, and your other friend is a traitor to his blood." He casts a hate filled glance at Gabriel before looking back at Dalton. "I am sorry you are so utterly overweight. Completely my fault, oh great one."
Bjorkus cuffs the devil. Hard.
"Did he poison him on purpose?"