Ianez Gastnicht |
Ianez stares off into the darkness, thinking. "The Library was originally built by a Pharasmin order, before it passed to its present owners; its location may be buried in Temple records somewhere. If Sabina knows nothing of it, we should start there." He gives a hollow chuckle. "A little time in a scriptorium, while the world burns beneath the weight of the Pallid Princess!"
Ianez Gastnicht |
Taken aback for a moment, Ianez quickly recovers. "I was not thinking to rely on Pharasma Herself, but on the bibliophilia of Her followers. Still, if you can guide us to the Library, that would be most helpful. Though it occurs to me to wonder--who are you?"
Gaston Blackacre |
As they watch the exchange with the talking jewelry, Gaston places a hand on Quinn's shoulder as well. He grumbles to the cop, We will do what must be done. Who knows what that dwarf is up to? Good or ill, we shall soon see Hergelund's true colors.
If the man only knew what it is like to choose sides in Galt...
Network |
"Who was I is the question," the voice from the glowing pendant corrects. "I want to help you. Hareton tries to bring me back, but can't. I'm no longer...myself...anymore. Things go disastrously." The voice fades out, comes in again. "This communication is unreliable. I'm trying to pull together enough strands of 'I' long enough to help you. In life, I had a disreputable cousin who dealt with the assassins of Norberger. Anaphexia you said, right? He tried to hide it from me, but I found a map in one of his books. I had aunt walk me past there one day on our morning constitutional. I was always a curious, young lady. Oh! That was a lot to remember."
The voice describes a route to the Library of Anaphexia. It is located on the outskirts of town.
"I was always a curious, young lady..." the voice repeats, turning this thought over in its...mind? "The night I went walking with Hareton, it was curiosity that got me killed."
"I was...I was..." Silence. It seems the pendant may have gone dead. But then, the voice says, "I'm sorry. I come and go."
"My name was Olivia."
La Siréene |
La Siréene listens quietly and with interest as the voice speaks, apparently using the pendant as a focus. When the voice identifies itself as Olivia, La Siréene speaks.
"A man named Hareton Grey loved a lady named Olivia, who wore this pendant during her life. We are headed towards his location. We have not discussed what we will do there, but it’s - regrettably - possible that this night will end with murder. Please, tell us what you know. The time is desperate - any information might help."
What has Hareton’s obsession wrought?
Network |
In response to La Siréene's prompt, the pendant flares blue again, "You must...library...secrets...traps there..." The pendant goes dark. It lasts for minutes, and the silence stretches out becoming loud in your ears. It looks like it won't reveal anything else. Just when you lose hope it will broadcast anything again, it glows blue once more.
"...worse...more later..." The pendant goes dark. Rain blows in through the broken window.
Network |
Realizing there's nothing more you can do for Agnes, and Olivia has nothing more to say...at least for now, your party makes its way from 37 Clank Street. The cover of night is your dark friend. It protects from dangers all around.
Back into the rain, sheltering yourselves the best you can...the chupacabras and werebats are occupied, ripping morsels of sinew off of unfortunates that they scavenge in the street. The chupacabras' movements are reptilian, the werebats oddly half-human...it's too much gratuitous evil to face. The night has brought too much already. You hunker down and speed onward, guided by the archaeologist's notes.
Your path sends you splashing over cobblestones, back past the shop of Madam Madchën Sabina.
Make a Perception check (-4 penalty for the rain, and additional -1 penalty for Caromarc and +1 bonus for La Siréene (-1 resurrection penalty +2 eye-scope.)
Network |
You don't see anything out of the ordinary.
Kwanjan Quinn |
Did the figure see us? If not then Quinn will follow it bringing MM and Gaston along.
Quinn points to Gaston and Mechanical Manservant, using what looks like to be military hand signals, instructing the two to follow behind him.
Then Quinn points to Sandru, using the same hand signals, instructing to stay wth the girl.
Quinn takes off, using the rain as cover, in pursuit of the hooded figure. He makes sure that Gaston and MM are right behind him.
Network |
You can make a Stealth check to remain unseen, but if you're pursuing at normal speed, then the mysterious figure sees you.
The cloaked figure speeds down the alley, and at the end of it makes a hard left. The figure looks back over their shoulder a couple of times. They make several more twists and turns through a maze of back-alleys and dead-ends. Soaked rubbish, squeaking rats.. Before long, you emerge onto a main thoroughfare.
Make a Survival check to track the person.
Gaston Blackacre |
Blackacre will be following Quinn at whatever speed the policeman is going
Question - are we close enough that casting Blackacre's bloodhound spell would work?
Gaston Blackacre |
As they continue their pursuit, Blackacre puts his left hand to his spell pouch and mutters a few vaguely canine sounds.
casting bloodhound
stealth: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18
survival (untrained, including bloodhound bonus): 1d20 + 2 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 2 + 4 = 18
Network |
The wide street leaves you feeling suddenly exposed. Its emptiness echoes back...too loud...overloading your keen senses.
Kwanjan Quinn |
On rare occassions the monk has given up. This is such an occassion. The group is split up and their strengths divided. It is time to regroup.
"Gaston, let's head back to the others."
The monk begins to head back at a light pace saying "Call it intuition or just plain old prejudice, I don't trust that drow witch."
Gaston Blackacre |
Blackacre curses at having lost their quarry.
I agree with Quinn. I don't trust a slave-owning drow shopkeeper with all manner of wares. Not that I would not shop there - I just would not trust her.
Madchën Sabina |
The tall, pretentious drow woman, who opened the door last time, lifts the latch and admits you into the antechamber. The music in the shop isn't playing, and it is quiet. She distributes the aerosol canisters so you can spray your shoes and walk easily on the cobwebbed floor. Once you reach the main part of the shop, you're left to wait for several minutes before your hostess finally appears.
Madchën sidles out from the back of the shop. "ยินดีต้อนรับกลับ เพื่อน. How was your party?"