After they had acquired their rooms , Xanos gathered a wash tub, a tray, a bottle of distilled spirits and laid out a very finely made chirurgery kit.
He looked around the room at the Knot of Nessus. "I have asked for your attendance to aid me with an operation. My left hand must be cut off."
Albrέkt looks at the kit, then nods toward his own war-scythe;
"Old Vun. I kan remove dein hand... Schnell und easy..."
"I assume some deeper purpose than the surface level stupidity? I can stanch the bleeding after it is cut, unless that would interfere with your plans. After I will be going scouting, I want to find a place where secret messages can be passed between the knots if we need to."
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"It needs to be done carefully." Xanos said to Albrekt. He tapped on the broad manacle encasing his wrist. "These are unbreakable, so far as I can tell. Hitting it rather than my wrist would likely damage your weapon. The bone saw is more precise."
"As for the reason, you will see shortly."
He tied a tourniquet above his elbow and twisted the bar until circulation was completely cut off. He arranged the saw and gave the two ends to Vank, directing Albrekt to hold his hand down. He put a leather scrap between his teeth and nodded.
It was over quickly. The chain of the saw tore through flesh with brutal efficiency. Xanos barely moved. He was clearly in pain, every muscle strained and taut, but he did not cry out or pull away.
When it was done he let the wrist stump drain for a few moments. The blood flow was light and poured rather than pumped. He inspected it clinically and pulled the manacle off. No longer held in place by his hand, it slid free trailing old blood and strings of necrotic ooze.
The flesh beneath was putrid. A wound of some kind in the center of the forearm, previously covered by the manacle, was shades of white, black and purple. It looked as thought he skin had swelled and tried to grow over the wound, but it had festered. It tripped foul smelling puss now that it was no longer confined.
Xanos ignored the foulness of it, rinsing it with water and pulling away dead tissue until the wound was exposed. Carefully, he made incisions with a scalpel and then dug into the wound with a pair of medical pliers.
He pulled free a metal spike more than two inches long and dropped it in the tray with a clank. Involuntarily, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"This was how they captured me. I was in the midst of a ritual engaging in an important negotiation, traveling in spirit to a distant plane, not within my own body. Mitra witch hunters pushed the nails in without disturbing my projection and sealed the manacles around my wrists. When my spirit returned, I was trapped and powerless."
"Because of this tiny sliver of metal, my command of magic was locked away. All my former sorcerous might, gone. All for the want of a nail."
"They did not consider that magic was not what makes me what I am, nor that there are other ways of accessing the arcane."
He touched his severed hand where it lay on the table and it twitched, coming shakily to life and rolling over to push itself up on it's fingers like a spider.
Albrέkt watches the ritual take shape with fascinated eyes.
As the necromancer's severed paw twitches and jerks into undeath, the vampire smiles;
"Der transition. Truly wunderschön izit nicht?..."
Janos carefully bandaged his wrist stump. He was exhausted. He hated the limitations of his body, but his endurance was spent. It would take some time to recover from the ravages of the infection.
He drank some kind of medicinal tea and lay back on the bed.
"I need to rest." he said like he hated himself for the words he was saying. "Wake me should you need my council."
Albrέkt dutifully nods as Xanos sought rest.
The massive wretch reverently backs out from the necromancer's room casting one final look toward the disembodied hand standing vigil o'er its master.
"Wunderbar."
Turning to Vank and Haruk, the towering vampyr grins;
"I go to hunt und feed... and learn too of zhis place..."
As he leaves the inn Albrέkt assumes the form of Dosten, the barbaric member of the 7th Knot.
Vhat sveet music vil I make zhis eve? I vunder...
Smiling to himself he moves into the streets of the Farholde seeking both information and to feed.
Albrέkt will seek to move away from their base, perhaps head to another inn or tavern where he can ply a local or two for information (at the cost of ales or such).
He is particularly curious about the abbey and if there are any orphanages or asylums in the locality.
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The city has a large orphanage. It was founded by Baron Vandermir (the same Baron you had dinner with). It teems with children of all ages, is well maintained and overseen by its headmaster, Bergill Mott
The Abbey of Saint Cynthia-Celeste: Saint Cynthia-Celeste was a powerful cleric of Mitra who frequently ventured into the north. Her greatest achievement was single-handedly defeating a powerful
ice devil known only as Skathyl. Unfortunately, the saint herself was dealt a mortal blow in the fight and was brought back here by her distraught devotees. Her incorruptible body lies enshrined in a perpetually guarded sarcophagus looking as if she died yesterday.
The Order is well regarded throughout Farholde thanks to their many good works. Led by the Abbess Temperance Avigail, the sisters are quick to offer aid. There are more than 300 nuns in the abbey and owing to their founder being a devil-hunter, every sister of the abbey receives some basic military training. With the garrison having left to help with the war against the bugbear army, they are probably the most dangerous force in the city.
Still wearing the skin of Dosten, the vampyr eyes up potential victims for feeding amongst any drunkards, destitute or the like...
As he hunts Albrέkt mulls the knowledge he has gleaned, weighing how (and if) he should share with his fellow Knotten.
Of the orphanage (larder) he immediately see's an opportunity to gain entry using the name of Mott.
I kan only prezume zhat Schulleiter Mott ist related to der dear departed Kaptain Mott of Talingarde...
Haruk's first order of business is to summon an imp to perform a Communion. He'll ask the following three questions first, with the other three dependent on their answers:
1) Is the Horn defended by forces of good?
2) Can Cardinal Thorn be trusted?
3) Are the Cocytian Knot intending to betray us?
Haruk's first order of business is to summon an imp to perform a Communion. He'll ask the following three questions first, with the other three dependent on their answers:
1) Is the Horn defended by forces of good?
2) Can Cardinal Thorn be trusted?
3) Are the Cocytian Knot intending to betray us?
Haruk receives the following replies:
1: Unknown, but possible.
2: In all things. Obey him.
3. Unclear.
If they are related, it is distantly so.
The city has a grand old cemetery with plenty of ancestral crypts, which might serve your purposes.
Albrέkt takes in a tour of the cemetery as he mulls his next move and next meal.
Conscious that the dawn comes ever closer, the brute searches for a suitable crypt among the mausoleums...
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The cemetery is pretty well kept and you imagine that the Sisters of Saint Cynthia-Celeste probably devote time to its upkeep. The crypts are all locked tight, but you do notice that some of the locks are poorer condition than others, suggesting they haven't been opened in a while. They are all easily accessed, but will need to be broken into, without a key.
In your survey you see that the two largest crypts belong to the Vandermir family (the Baron you met) and the Welshire family (the Duke, currently away fighting the war). All the crypts are marked with the family names, so you could find out more about them, if you so choose.
Albrekt reasons that the grander family crypts are more likely to be tended to, than some of the those older and less used.
He focusses on the families whose crypts are in poorer condition in the first instance, and will attempt to find out more on those names.
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After the communion is complete, Haruk will wander into town, and find a good inn/tavern, preferably upscale, or close enough. He'll buy a few rounds of drinks for anybody that seems agreeable or talkative, and slowly tease out any information about the Horn.
Asking around, you find a number of people who have heard of the horn. Most agree that it lies close to the town, in a great stone spire. The problem is that within a few days travel of Farholde there are at least a hundred stone spires any of which might contain the Horn. Another thing that comes to light during your conversations is another man had been asking around about the Horn recently. He had been staying at “The Wandering Friar” inn in the Newchurch district. Apparently the man was a scholar investigating the Horn for a book. Several of the locals mention that they haven't seen in a while, but he would be the man to talk to.
Depending on the time of day once his investigations are complete, Haruk will either return to the inn where the Knot is staying, or go and seek out this 'scholar of the Horn'.
Haruk returns to report on the results of his investigation (see spoiler). With little else to go on, the knot decides to head to The Wandering Friar in search of more information.
A few inquiries with the innkeep are greeted with a sour face, "Aye, I know the one you speak of. Went by the name Aiden Kael. He paid in advance and was a quiet enough sort when he was about. Been gone some three weeks now. He's overdue on his account and if he don't show soon, I'm going to pitch all his junk in the midden."
"That's unfortunate, we're friends of his, trying to find him. He's supposed to have some information for us. Would you mind if we looked through his room?" Haruk asks, with sincere politeness.
"Your his friends? That's great! Tell you what, if you settle up his bill and clear out his junk, I'll let you into his room right now."
He pulls out a ledger and flips through it until he finds the account, "Let's see here....25 gold will settle everything up nicely."
Having returned from his crypt hunting Albrέkt is no longer wearing the form of Dosten, having now assumed a form of an old magister.
At the innkeeper's request he nods and smiles wryly;
"Of korse. He vas such a good man."
The vampyr hands over the 25 gold, and bids the innkeep lead them to Kael's room.
The innkeep brightens at the show of coin. He counts them carefully and then draws a line on his ledger. "Excellent. If you will follow me, please." He grabs a set of keys and leads you upstairs. Finding the correct door, he opens it for you and leaves you to your cleaning. "Please just close the door when you are done."
The room is mostly bare. A few articles of clothing are strewn about and the bed is unmade. On a small desk is a map of the region. On the map there are several small Xs around the city and one area that has been circled several times.
Haruk searches the room, looking for anything useful. He'll toss the bag of coins to Albrekt "I'm guessing this should more than make up for what you just paid to get us in here"
The vampyr-in-elderly-skin smiles as he takes the coin;
"Ja. Vhat else kan you disern?"
"Nothing magickal, but this map is interesting" He'll gesture the others over to the desk. "He likely found something important, which is the circle. The Xs could be a few locations of less import."
In their rooms nearby, Xanos slumbered lightly, hating every minute of it. His hand wandered away.
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The hand skittered down the hall keeping to shadows and under furniture until it found the open door where Xanos' companions were rifling through things.
It leaped onto the bed and then to the bedpost like a spider, sitting still as though watching.
Albrέkt sheds the facade of the old man, leaning in to eye the map with his devilish companion.
"Der Horn perhapzh? Ve schud investigate zhem all. Ja?"
As the appearance of Xanos' hand, the vampyr wretch cracks a jagged tooth smile;
"Truly wunderschön..."
Haruk studies the map for a few quiet moments, pondering their best course of action. "My personal suggestion is to look into these other spots first, see what they are. Could be nothing, but if they are something I would prefer to know what."
Albrέkt nods in agreement, his face drawn and pale... his features more feral;
"Ja. You schud der map to Xanos. Plan our kourse of action... I must feed..."
The towering vampyr licks the air, then smiles and points toward the necrotic hand;
"I zhink perhapz Xanos already knows?"
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The hand balanced on the stump of it's wrist and made a circle with it's index finger and thumb.
With a nod to the hand and the infernal sorcerer, the undead wretch shifts to the door and assumes the form of the old magister he wore earlier.
The lanky wizard hobbles out leaning heavily on his "staff", as he leaves the inn he acknowledges the innkeep in his quiet, weak voice;
"Danke."
Once out onto the street, the old man smiles and slowly makes his way toward the cemetery...
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From her perch on top of a particularly large mausoleum Sariana watches as an old man makes his way amongst the gravestones. His appearence changes, but this is the scent. Having tracked the scent across town for the last two nights Sariana is certain of it.
Leaping lightly down from the mausoleum she lands quietly in front of him, a dark silhouette cut precisely out of an even darker sky. "Wo wohnen sie, Grossvater? Her tone is clear and unaccented, although the honorific is laden with irony.
Albrekt steps slowly backward eying this shadowy newcomer, whose question as an undertone of derision.
"Pleaze. I am just un old man, vischiting my family grave. I haf no koin nor valuables...
He leans heavily on his staff;
"Your vurds... tongue is nott known to me. Do you schpeak zhe Kommon tongue?"
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Though bowed, the old man's stance has shifted to one a man at arms would take in combat...
The "old man" speaks slowly;
"Opa Briarwood at your zervice my dear."
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"Please, Opa. Your bluff may fool the living - but we are not living are we? I find lies tiresome and I have no skill in it, therefore the truth. I was sent here by a significant churchman to aid his servants in their endeavors, and you dearest opa know something about it."
Easily reading the shift of the old man into combat stance Sariana bares her teeth, exposing pointed fangs. "Defend yourself!"
Her strike hits with considerable force, blunted only by the fact that the blow was delivered with an open palm - obviously not intended to do any real harm.
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The old man stumbles backward under the force of the blow... then begins to laugh - a dry, empty sound.
"Bravo Fraulein. You are stronger zhan you look... but I do nicht play."
As he shifts forward the visage of the aged scholar fades, replaced with a towering wretch encased in baroque armour. In mailed hands he no longer holds the crooked walking staff now a great blade is gripped in its place.
Albrέkt bears his jagged fangs in a hissed reply;
"You are Unvergänglich. For zhat alone you have mein attention. Of vich Kirche do you schpeak? Der Blassen Prinzessin? Or Der infernalisch Asmodean?"
Unvergänglich: Deathless
Kirche - Church
infernalisch - infernal
The pale warrior maintains a guarded stance as he watches the lithe woman and awaits her reply...
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"Ich spreche auf Kardinal Thorn" Sariana replies, sidestepping lightly around Opa who, as she had suspected was far more than he seemed.
"I care not for his Kirche, the regeln of Hell do not interest me. I owe him a debt. It will be repaid, that is all."
Seeing the armored figure tracking her movements with ease Sariana stops, places her palms together and bows briefly, acknowledging a worthy opponent. "You are a worthy foe Krieger, my respect to you. Now - have I found the ones I seek or must we fight truly?"
Ich spreche auf = I speak of
Krieger = warrior
regeln = rules
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Molasbar pushes himself up from the floor, replacing the floor plank and covering the hole that allowed him to eavesdrop on the Baron and his conversation with the newcomers. He grimaced and brooded, deep in thought as he made his way out of the attic and into the main part of the Baron's mansion. A quick whisper of a spell rendered him unseen long enough to silently drop down into the pantry and out into the kitchen unnoticed. He made his way outside to where Rose waited.
"Hello, Rose. The meeting is over and it certainly didn't last long. As we suspected, the Baron was not receptive to their ask. But I don't think they were deterred at all. I believe they will advance, regardless of the Baron's disposition."
The hulking vampyr lowers his blade and returns her bow as is customary when meeting another of their... ilk.
As he mulls her words the armoured wretch once again hacks a rasping laugh;
"Würdiger feind? In der Tat, solange ich einen solchen Kampf wünschte, um zu dauern!"
He then introduces himself formally, head raised in arrogant pride;
"I am Albrέkt. I serve Der Kardinal und his Nessian Knotten for her."
As his voice calms he nods sharply once again;
"Ja. Ve are those who you seek..."
Würdiger feind = Worthy foe
In der Tat, solange ich einen solchen Kampf wünschte, um zu dauern! = Indeed for as long as I wished such a combat to last!
Ein Unheiligen Krieger des Blassen Prinzessin = An Unholy Warrior of the Pallid Princess.
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Sariana nods sharply. "Then I must meet your 'knot'. Discuss what the next moves are. Herr Kardinal did not tell me anything." Her smile becomes slightly more feral. "But we must eat first, no?"
Following Sariana shows Albrekt a new way of feeding. Instead of draining a person Sariana moves carefully around town, picking on isolated individuals and leaving them unconscious with a precise blow. She then exposes the victims chest, driving two nails beneath the skin and inhaling a fine mist of pale red. Each time she leaves the person alive.
Once both vampires have fed Sariana looks up at her hulking companion, face perfectly clean and unmarred by blood. "So, der knotten?"