The Dark Lord Morgoth's Path of Damnation (Inactive)

Game Master Lieutenant Paladine

The Way of the Wicked, with Mythic. Because it wasn't badass enough.


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Fallen Ainur Ex-Angel 15/ Evil Overlord 20

The way of the wicked is a series of choices not frequently visited by our protagonists. Yet there is another path, a greater path, one that is even less frequented. This is the Path of Damnation. Watch as our villains slowly become empowered by Asmodeus to crush the disciples of Mitra and overthrow Talingarde.
When we last saw our heroes, they had escaped from the dreaded Branderscar Prison, which did not live up to its terrible reputation. Then, our rapscallions crossed the moors, battling guard patrols, Lashtongue the Fey Toad, and navigating a trap-strewn chasm to find and restore a three thousand year old temple of Asmodeus. There they earned the Blessing of Asmodeus, and gained a Mythic Tier.
Having survived the trials of the Temple, our heroes are travelling to a mysterious location, where they will meet their mysterious benefactor, and truly start their journey down the Path of Damnation...

The manor house sits atop one of the many rolling hills that dot these moors, the only sign of it being something more is the lantern in the second floor window, the sign you were told to look for. It seems this is the manor of the mysterious individual who engineered your escape from the prison.

At the door of the manor house, you are met by the same woman that pulled aside Semirhage. She no longer looks as if she is destined for a funeral, but is instead garbed in a diaphanous white gown, giving her an almost angelic appearance. However, as soon as she speaks you are dissuaded of that notion.

“Dearest, you took long enough,” she says pitilessly.
“We were beginning to wonder if you’d ever make it. Oh, and you brought friends. The master commands all of you to appear before him but before that, you must be made presentable. Slaves!”

She claps her hands. A dozen young attractive men and women all wearing very traditional servant’s livery appear quickly, their heads bowed.

“These people are our guests,” she commands imperiously. “See them to their rooms. I want them cleaned, dressed and refreshed. Quickly.”

There is something in that last word that sounds like a threat. Certainly the slaves take it that way, hustling to perform their duties.

Sense Motive DC 15:

The slaves are as addled and enchanted as the sergeant was.


Male Tiefling Wizard 7 (HP: 33/44 | AC: 17 T:13 FF: 14 | F:+3 R:+5 W:+5 | Init +3 Per +9)
Effects:
Mage Armor (6 hours)

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

Edward stands quietly as the mysterious woman speaks, silently evaluating the situation, the surroundings, and their host.
This woman is powerful, with her control over others' free will. Yet even she has a master - I only wonder what power he commands.


Female Drow Ninja 6, (HP: 51 | AC:21 T:15 FF:16 | F:+5 R:+11 W:+4 | SR:12 | Init +5 Per +13 | Ki: 3/5)
Bonus:
+2 saves vs. Enchantments. Immunity to sleep.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Vyllaria senses the woman's strong control over her servants may be more than mere forbearance, but rather magical manipulation.
It may suit this enchanter of wills to have servants who mindlessly carry out her tasks, but only the ultimately cowardly and socially repulsive hide behind such devices. When I achieve my glory, it will be through proof of my dominance over the lesser beings of this world. All shall love me or fear me, and will gladly obey or perish.

But she keeps her reverie short. Her keen eyes and sharp mind quickly begins taking in the rest of her surroundings. Vyllaria glances around the room for house emblems, symbols of allegiance, anything that might give her a clue as to who or what is the master of this house.
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
K(Local): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15


Male Dampir (Moroi-Born) 7 Antipaladin (HP: 60/60 | AC: 21+3=24 (23 if Shield) FF: 20 (22) T: 11 | F:+10 R:+7 W:+10 | Init:+1)
Auras:
Cowardice

'She is hot. Look at all the slaves, they are hot! But just the women. Maybe... do I like men? Answer that question latter, quick say something normal.'

"Thank you for your help... ah, my lady. I confesses that I do not know your or your master's name. Is there a title that I can address you and your master by? I do not wish to be rude."

'Yeah that was normal-ish. Good job Mordy.'

Mordekai crosses his right arm over his body an bows to their hostess and repositions his stolen monocle with his left hand. His feet are firmly together. It is a correct gentleman's bow. Always expect that the unknown person is a noblemen and act accordingly.


Female Aasimar Sorcerer 1 | Oracle 1 | Mystic Theurge 4 (HP: 35/40 | AC:23 T:16 FF:17 | F:+6 R:+9 W:+7 | Init +8 Per +13)
Effects:
None

Semirhage bows to the lady in the ironically divine gown, but speaks to silence the man who has just spoken.

"Mordekai, have patience, for the dark is ever patient in overcoming the light." Turning to the lady, Semirhage says, "I require refreshment as well, if your men are able to provide something suitable, my lady."

Semirhage watches the serving men, noting a rather appealing dark man with broad shoulders and prominent cheek bones.

Sense Motive: 10 + 5 = 15

I find my curiosity piqued by this woman, the power she exerts is simply exhilarating. One day, perhaps even she may be under my power. I will allow these slave men to amuse me later, if the lord permits.


Male Tiefling Wizard 7 (HP: 33/44 | AC: 17 T:13 FF: 14 | F:+3 R:+5 W:+5 | Init +3 Per +9)
Effects:
Mage Armor (6 hours)

Edward raises an eyebrow at Semirhage's request, but still says nothing. He doesn't fully trust their host, nor her motives for the assistance she gave them escaping. Compound that with the fact that because of her actions Edward now owed her a debt, resulting in Edward feeling a rare lack of control. For now he is content to go along with the woman's wishes, waiting to see what knowledge will be shared - and what will not.


Male Dampir (Moroi-Born) 7 Antipaladin (HP: 60/60 | AC: 21+3=24 (23 if Shield) FF: 20 (22) T: 11 | F:+10 R:+7 W:+10 | Init:+1)
Auras:
Cowardice

'Shut up women. Hehehe! You know nothing of the night nor the darkness that it holds. Well maybe you know a little but only a little! Keep your eye on this one Mordy. I do not like her.'

"Dear me, have some patience Demelain. I am sure that the servants will can bring you some water or wood if the lord permits it.

Mordekai chuckles at his own joke but quickly regain his composure. One must have fun but not too much fun. You must understand the player before you begin the game and Mordekai does not understand Demelain. Their fight with words will have to wait, there are are more important players to watch. The wizard and Drow have said nothing and he is bad are reading people. Will they follow the hostess? For now Mordekai will follow the hostess and see what she has in store.

I like the wiz Mordy. Wizards are strong and he is human. The Drow well... we have liked elves and she is close to an elf right? Close enough, just don't ever call her an elf to her face. That would be bad, maybe, test latter.


Fallen Ainur Ex-Angel 15/ Evil Overlord 20

The mysterious woman pauses at the door. ”You wish to know by what manner of address the Master is known? You will address him as ‘Your Grace.’ As to refreshments, they are already waiting in your rooms. Are any of you injured?” The lady looks down at you all, hands clasped precisely at her waist. She sees the blood staining your garments and her beautiful lips curl into a moue of distaste. She claps twice, summoning a handsome slave with fair complexion bearing a platter of six glasses of wine in ornate glass goblets.

Through the door behind her, you can see four servants whisking trays into four rooms. The trays are piled with steaming hot pheasant, green-leafed salads, scalloped potatoes, and crystal decanters filled with cold water, condensation dewing on the sides.
”The servants have prepared rooms for you. Women on the right; men on the left.”


Female Aasimar Sorcerer 1 | Oracle 1 | Mystic Theurge 4 (HP: 35/40 | AC:23 T:16 FF:17 | F:+6 R:+9 W:+7 | Init +8 Per +13)
Effects:
None

Semirhage puts on her most angelic smile and thanks the woman graciously before turning to follow the servants.

On the way to a woman's room Semirhage thinks, 'I suppose we are a rather disgraceful looking group; A change of clothes would certainly be welcome. It is, perhaps, in my best interest to appease this most patronizing woman - at least until I can find out where she gains her power from and take it from her, Lord of Darkness willing.'


Male Dampir (Moroi-Born) 7 Antipaladin (HP: 60/60 | AC: 21+3=24 (23 if Shield) FF: 20 (22) T: 11 | F:+10 R:+7 W:+10 | Init:+1)
Auras:
Cowardice

"Thank you for your concern my lady but we are not injured. We are merely... messy."

Mordekai steps forward and takes one of the wine glasses from the platter and starts walking to to one of the male rooms. He can't wait for a good meal and a bath. A change of clothes wouldn't hurt either. It will also give him a change to put down all the weapon he is carrying. He must look like a bloody walking armoury.

'To bad this is filled with wine and not blood Mordy. Oh, I could go for some blood.'

Mordekai whispers under his breath.
"Quite Reaver, the fun will come latter."


Female Drow Ninja 6, (HP: 51 | AC:21 T:15 FF:16 | F:+5 R:+11 W:+4 | SR:12 | Init +5 Per +13 | Ki: 3/5)
Bonus:
+2 saves vs. Enchantments. Immunity to sleep.

Vyllaria thanks the mysterious mistress of the house before following one of the servants to her room. "Your master has our gratitude for his most gracious accommodations" she tells the woman before she departs.

She takes the first door on the right. Inside she waits for the servant to place the meal and finish whatever other duties it must attend to. Once it has finished she dismisses it and bids it close the door as it leaves.

GM:

As soon as the servant leaves she begins a thorough search of the room, noting any available features.

Vyllaria is looking for absolutely anything of note. Windows, doors, cupboards, other room features, etc. More specifically she analyzes the room for all possible entrances and exits, all possible locations in which to hide one's person, or items of interest, and anything that might even remotely resemble a trap or magical monitoring device, such as crystal balls, reliquary statues, etc. She's going to be taking a decent amount of time to do this so I will take 20 on the check.

Perception= 27

Also I'd appreciate knowing if I actually turn up anything of interest on these checks or if I see absolutely nothing. If nothing else, at least tell me how the room is decorated. I just want some more life in this campaign. Hint Hint: you didn't respond to my earlier check.

In doing so she neglects the steaming hot plate of roast poultry and simmering vegetables so that by the time she is quite satisfied in her search the hot meal has cooled pitifully. She then munches on the salad and tries a spoonful of the potatoes but leaves the pheasant untouched. She downs it all with a glass of water.

I'm hoping the previous was a hint that we should change clothes? And that there are clothes provided for us? I do have a noble's outfit, though i think i took it off the Warden... In any case I put on whatever has been provided.

After changing into more comfortable clothes, Vyllaria sits down on the corner of the bed. Holding her hands out before her in a cupped shape she conjures forth a small ball of glowing light.

Casting my 1/day dancing lights.

She gazes intently into the glowing orb as if pondering some great riddle. She muses to herself, What fickle power this is. 'Magic.' It is a tool used by the weak. It is a curse that our people should have to suffer its constant lure. It has infected our very being, down through our lineage, back through countless generations, to the beginning of history as we know it. It is because of our fascination that we are drawn to it, and thus we are lured like moths to a flame, brought down into our weakness by this petty manifestation of will. The noble families will follow blindly anyone who can wield the sorcery of the ancients - the powers of the forgotten fey - passed down through blood from one generation of rulers to the next. They do not see that power is to be taken by force, not granted through random fluke or chance. But I will prove them wrong. I will accomplish the impossible and earn the Drow their place upon the surface once more. But I do it not for the family that begot me, for my mother who birthed me, nor my father who quite frankly is little more than a trophy in my mother's house. I do this for myself. My lineage will be the lineage of the reclaimers, and my family will be the first family in the dynasty of the great Drow surface empire.

A brief flutter in the curtains startles Vyllaria and she snaps her hands shut, extinguishing the orb of light. But she sees it was no more than a draft catching the cloth and so she relaxes. She then gets up and goes to see where her companions are at, and whether it is time for them to meet the master of this house.


Fallen Ainur Ex-Angel 15/ Evil Overlord 20

Mordekai takes a sip of wine, and spits it out as painful energy burns his lips and tongue. This wine is obviously laced with healing draught, which should have been clear in retrospect.

Mordekai takes 1 point of injury damage.

At last Tiadora leads you to a beautifully appointed office richly decorated with dark wood and sumptuous brocade tapestry. Sitting in a leather high-backed chair is a devilishly handsome fellow who smiles as you enter.

“I believe you to be the first to ever escape from Branderscar Prison. Well done! Of course, you had help from the outside,” he says with a wicked smile.

“But enough with the pleasantries. You must be curious why I’ve helped you. Rest assured that this is no random act of altruism. I have brought you here for a reason. My name is Cardinal Adrastus Thorn. I am the last high priest of Asmodeus left on the island of Talingarde. Once the Prince of Nessus was rightly revered alongside the other great powers. Now, the king of Talingarde has become a puppet to Mitran fanatics who wish to destroy any religion that does not bow to their insipid sun god. For their blasphemy, I will see the same people who imprisoned and condemned you suffer. I understand what you went through for I have faced it myself.”

With that, he pulls down the sleeve of his robe and reveals his own runic ‘F’ brand.

“I am going to burn Talingarde to the ground and from the ashes I will build a new nation that knows its rightful master. I cannot do this alone. I seek servants worthy of our Infernal Father’s majesty. Have I found them in you?”

He rises and his eyes flash with hellfire and divine purpose.

“Join me! Serve me well in this holy endeavor and I will raise you up in the eyes of gods and men. I will make you princes of the new Talingarde. Today, swear fealty to me and to Asmodeus. Put aside forgiveness and I shall give you vengeance. Put aside mercy and be made powerful. Put aside peace and become my harbingers of war. What say you? Will you swear your allegiance or will you burn with the rest of the blind fools?”


Female Aasimar Sorcerer 1 | Oracle 1 | Mystic Theurge 4 (HP: 35/40 | AC:23 T:16 FF:17 | F:+6 R:+9 W:+7 | Init +8 Per +13)
Effects:
None

Semirhage grins wickedly at the handsome man, "Your cause is in keeping with my very reason for ending up in the Branderscar prison. For, as an ex-priestess of holy Mitra, I apparently cast a 'shadow' upon their wholly monotheistic patriarchy. Little did they know how right there were, for now my blood has consecrated an unholy shrine of Asmodeus. I assure you, Lord Thorn, that in me you will find an ally unsurpassed in devotion to destroying the choke-hold Mitra has over Talingarde. With words and with fire I will scour that insipid faith from this land."

Semirhage kneels before the Lord, swearing a fervent oath, "I swear, before all the gods, my allegiance to Asmodeus. In darkness and fear the full pantheon shall be returned to Talingarde - with the Prince of Nessus as its rightful head."


Male Dampir (Moroi-Born) 7 Antipaladin (HP: 60/60 | AC: 21+3=24 (23 if Shield) FF: 20 (22) T: 11 | F:+10 R:+7 W:+10 | Init:+1)
Auras:
Cowardice

Mordekai now looking all dapper and proper follows Tiadora in to the room. He makes sure he is last in line and turns to Tiadora before he enters the room.

"I understand the idea but I am a dhampir. Please don't lace wine with healing potions. It just utterly ruins the taste."

He drops the empty glass weather or not she moved her hand out to take it and catches it with his other hand before it hits the ground.

"I wouldn't ever be that rude."

He says as with a wink and a smile. He then enters the room.

Really? What is simple for the GM is not so easily understandable for the players.

He leans against one of the back walls and follows the speech by Cardinal Adrastus Thorn. He starts speaking under his breath.

"So do we follow him?"

'I don't know. I wasn't paying attention. To busy focusing on the Drow's but. We can follow for now. Not like we had another plans. Our commander's daughter sure was hot though. Totally worth it.'

With a laugh Mordekai takes a step off of the back wall. The laugh was for how completely crazy this situation is and also for all the unsaid jokes about how fast Semirhage took a knee in front of a man.

"My acceptance speech wont be as grand or full or religious words but it will have it's own charm. Forgiveness is for the weak who leave behind lose ends."

'And for those that give mercy, not us.'

"Mercy is for other's to give, not us. For it was never given and peace?"

'We love war. War. WAR! Ha ha! Let's have so fun Mordy! We are going to paint the town red.'

"We shall be your harbinger's of war and destruction. Lead, My Lord, sorry, Your Grace, and we shall follow.

'You shall have a Reaper but beware. We are not picking with our targets. Why be a prince one you can be a king. Even if one must share the crown.

That was a fun post.


Male Tiefling Wizard 7 (HP: 33/44 | AC: 17 T:13 FF: 14 | F:+3 R:+5 W:+5 | Init +3 Per +9)
Effects:
Mage Armor (6 hours)

Edward enters his room and looks around. He is mildly surprised to find the wine detecting as magical, and does not drink from it. Archaeros hops down his arm and pecks at the salad while Edward tucks into the rest of the meal. Despite the deliciousness of the food, he eats only enough to feel satisfied - there is no telling what will be required later, and Edward wants to be ready.

K(Arcana): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16

-------------------------------------

Walking into the office, Edward feels a prickle of anticipation, as they will finally get to meet the man behind their escape.

Cardinal Thorn wrote:
“But enough with the pleasantries. You must be curious why I’ve helped you. Rest assured that this is no random act of altruism. I have brought you here for a reason. My name is Cardinal Adrastus Thorn. I am the last high priest of Asmodeus left on the island of Talingarde. Once the Prince of Nessus was rightly revered alongside the other great powers. Now, the king of Talingarde has become a puppet to Mitran fanatics who wish to destroy any religion that does not bow to their insipid sun god. For their blasphemy, I will see the same people who imprisoned and condemned you suffer. I understand what you went through for I have faced it myself.”

A little melodramatic, that, but I suppose when you have his sort of power you can afford to be so.

Cardinal Thorn wrote:

“I am going to burn Talingarde to the ground and from the ashes I will build a new nation that knows its rightful master. I cannot do this alone. I seek servants worthy of our Infernal Father’s majesty. Have I found them in you?"

“Join me! Serve me well in this holy endeavor and I will raise you up in the eyes of gods and men. I will make you princes of the new Talingarde. Today, swear fealty to me and to Asmodeus. Put aside forgiveness and I shall give you vengeance. Put aside mercy and be made powerful. Put aside peace and become my harbingers of war. What say you? Will you swear your allegiance or will you burn with the rest of the blind fools?”

Never mind, that was the really melodramatic part. Did he practice this speech beforehand? If it wasn't for the fact that he probably has the power to back up his claims, it would be almost comedic.

As Semirhage and Mordekai speak, Edward ponders the offer. It's far more grand than anything I had planned - I was really only doing things to see how far I could go. But this man - backed by Asmodeus no less - has ambition. With his support, there would be almost no limits to what I could accomplish.

Noticing that Vyllaria has yet to speak, Edward waits. He will see what the dark-skinned elf decides before making his final decision.


Female Drow Ninja 6, (HP: 51 | AC:21 T:15 FF:16 | F:+5 R:+11 W:+4 | SR:12 | Init +5 Per +13 | Ki: 3/5)
Bonus:
+2 saves vs. Enchantments. Immunity to sleep.

Vyllaria tries to listen to The Master's speech, but she quickly becomes bored. Her first impressions are hardly worth celebration. Such, it seems, was the way of nobles of all breeds. Even among the Drow there were many who would bear the pretense of piety to bend others towards some cause or another. Most of the time the cause was rarely one of divine notion, and more often involved an attempt to grab power from one ruling party or another.

In such situations Vyllaria preferred the straight-forward approach. When the peons saw you stand and raise a bloody sword, their leader's blood still steaming on the blade, they would fall away like chaff, or throw themselves at your feet in awe.

Still... the man's intentions aligned with her own. And since Semirhage and Mordekai were fools enough to throw down their peals of commitment so quickly, she decides it would suit best to follow... for now.

Yes she could see it happening, almost as if divine prophecy were revealing itself before her eyes. Asmodeus, prince of darkness, lord over the seven layers of Hell. A tyrant king if ever there was. And who sat upon his doorstep? Who, of his own accord, did battle with the heavenly fiends and kept the celestials at bay? Achaekek, the Mantis God, He Who Walks in Blood. Her patron, since she was but a small girl. And for her insolence she was cast out of her family and sentenced to exile. So it seemed to her then that this cause was fitting. Adrastus Thorn would be raised up like Asmodeus himself, while she played gatekeeper, whether he bid her or not. And those are the worst kinds of enemies, she thought to herself, the ones who make themselves your ally. In her mind it was already decided: Thorn would die, and his soul would go screaming down to Hell, but only after a suitable replacement was found to rule the empire she would build underneath him. A puppet King, for a puppet throne, with a puppet-master to pull the strings...

Vyllaria raises her gaze to meet the speaker's. "As one who has served Asmodeus faithfully, even in the face of persecution and exile, I pledge myself to your allegiance. May the Lord of the Damned smile upon us in this hour and may the fruits of our labour be the heads of all those who oppose us."

Vyllaria speaks with confidence and a certain amount of forbearance. It will only do to show our most confident front before this man. Fool though he may be, he is a man of great power and it would be wise not to cross him until we are certain he speaks with the voice of a herald, or a lunatic. She keeps her eyes fixed upon him the whole while, but at the end of her speech she looks sidelong at the wizard, Emeric. It seems to her that he has yet to speak since entering the manse. What could you possibly be up to Verric? Do you long to fall prostate before this acclaimed servant of evil? I should hardly think so, but then I have no idea what you are thinking. Your thoughts are hard to read, not like the other two. Semirhage is just a fanatic on a power trip, and Mordekai is out for blood; his noble exterior is just his guise to lure in his prey. Useful, yes, but unpredictable. And he appears to have acquired a recent appetite for Drow...


Male Tiefling Wizard 7 (HP: 33/44 | AC: 17 T:13 FF: 14 | F:+3 R:+5 W:+5 | Init +3 Per +9)
Effects:
Mage Armor (6 hours)

Hmm. She's the one I would have pegged as most likely to decline. I wonder what her motive in this is - it isn't something as obvious as for the other two. I don't know if I trust her... but then again, I don't know if I trust anyone in this room.

With these three, all powerful in their own way, backed by Asmodeus and his Cardinal, I could accomplish so much. Trust is a luxury I can wait for. Fear - or at least respect - will work in its place in the meantime.

And in this man's house, surrounded by his servants and escorted by his... associate, I can hardly refuse and expect to leave alive. He never would have confessed what he did if he was going to let us walk.

Edward clears his throat softly. "Your Grace, I accept your offer. I swear fealty to Asmodeus, and to you, his servant." He leaves it at that, making no extraneous claims or promises. After all, Asmodeus is the god of contracts, and words spoken in his name may bind a little stronger than expected.


Male Dampir (Moroi-Born) 7 Antipaladin (HP: 60/60 | AC: 21+3=24 (23 if Shield) FF: 20 (22) T: 11 | F:+10 R:+7 W:+10 | Init:+1)
Auras:
Cowardice

And we all toss our pieces of gold into the pot. Who will walk away with the winnings? This is going to be fun, Mordy. I fear we might have played to much of our hand but where is the fun in being secretive. If you have the Jokers, you play them. Wait a min-newt. That doesn't work with the poker reference I was going for. Dam it. Anyways, at some point we need to figure out the Wizard's 2 cards and the Drow's. If we have the two Jokers, what cards are they hiding. Are we going to figure it out before the River or Flop? Yes, the reference was saved in the end. I am getting good at this whole... thinking... think. Bubbles!"

Mordekai can't help but smile at Reaver's thoughts. As messed up as they were he does speak some truth. No one trusts anyone. We are all playing a game. So who will make the first bold move? Do we start the trusting or wait for someone else? No one can do this alone but can we do it together? These are the questions that weave their way through his mind.


Female Aasimar Sorcerer 1 | Oracle 1 | Mystic Theurge 4 (HP: 35/40 | AC:23 T:16 FF:17 | F:+6 R:+9 W:+7 | Init +8 Per +13)
Effects:
None

Semirhage stands up and, eyes lowered, addresses the lord, "It appears we are all united in this course of action, Cardinal Thorn. We will become the champions of your cause, but know this: from what I have seen of the Mitran holy order, they are no fools when it comes to strength and resilience.

"What manner of plans have you set against the priests? How will we be equipped to face this threat? We have many questions left unanswered, my lord."


Fallen Ainur Ex-Angel 15/ Evil Overlord 20

Cardinal Thorn’s smiles. “Excellent. Let us make it official. Signing in blood is traditional.”

He brings out a quill, a silver ritual knife and two copies of a contract written on some unidentifiable leather and written in dark red ink – the Pact of Thorns.
”There are two copies of this contract; one for you, to remind yourselves of this glorious burden, and the other will be kept safe with me, lest yours be destroyed whilst carrying out Asmodeus’ will…”

K(Arcana) or Craft (Alchemy) DC 17:

The leather is flayed Lemure skin, and the ink is made out of powdered garnet mixed with animal blood.

The Pact of Thorns:

Behold on this day 19 September in the eighth age of this world a perpetual Compact is made between Cardinal Adrastus Thorn (hereafter the Master) and those who would be bound to him as his acolytes (hereafter the Bound). Both the Master and the Bound shall hold fast and true to this Compact through all trial and tribulation. By blood and soul the Bound commit to the Compact and swear that it shall never be undone.

The Bound shall know and understand the Four Loyalties.

The First Loyalty is to their patron and god – mighty Asmodeus, first among the fallen, prince of the nine hells, our father below. They shall do all that can be done to further his worship and his glory.

The Second Loyalty is to their master – He who is called the Cardinal Adrastus Thorn, High Priest of Asmodeus in Talingarde. They shall do the Master no harm and obey his every commandment as long as those commandments do not clash with their First Loyalty.

The Third Loyalty is to their companions – the other Bound who serve alongside them. The Bound shall deal with each other fairly and honorably as long as doing so does not clash with their first or second loyalties. All treasure, wealth and reward garnered in their exploits will be equally shared with all of the Bound who aided in its acquisition.

The Fourth Loyalty is to themselves – for Asmodeus is the Lord of Ambition and all who serve him should strive to become great and powerful in his service as long as doing so does not clash with their first, second or third loyalties. By their weakness, ye shall know the unworthy.

The Bound swear that they cleave to and uphold the Four Loyalties even in the face of death and damnation.

The Master swears that as long as the Four Loyalties are upheld, he shall reward the Bound as they deserve for their deeds.

Thus it is written, and thus it shall be.

We being of sound mind and free will do so swear and let they who violates this Compact know all the wrath of Hell unending.
Signed,

September 19th is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Thought that might be an interesting day to sign such a contract.

Sign here with all the flair you can muster.


Female Aasimar Sorcerer 1 | Oracle 1 | Mystic Theurge 4 (HP: 35/40 | AC:23 T:16 FF:17 | F:+6 R:+9 W:+7 | Init +8 Per +13)
Effects:
None

K Arcana: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

Semirhage steps forward boldly and reads over the Pact of Thorns. It is difficult for her to contain her mirth as she realizes Thorn's most glaring flaw - that the first loyalty is to Asmodeus and not himself. 'Well, this should be simple. One misstep from Cardinal Thorn and I will have every excuse I need to usurp his place as the regent of Asmodeus in these lands. Perhaps I can convince my former prison mates to see things in the same light!' Semirhage's proud laughter at her own cleverness rings within her head as she ponders how to give the lord a good show.

A wicked smile spread across Semirhage's face as, with a flourish, she picks up the ritual knife. The gleaming blade hungrily slashes across the dark skin of her left hand, releasing a spray of bright crimson. Using prestidigitation she sends the shower of blood at the parchment, chillingly forming the name Semirhage Demelain in a neat sanguine scrawl.

Semirhage bows to Cardinal Thorn before returning the somehow still gleaming knife and steps back from the paper, "My pact is sealed."


Male Tiefling Wizard 7 (HP: 33/44 | AC: 17 T:13 FF: 14 | F:+3 R:+5 W:+5 | Init +3 Per +9)
Effects:
Mage Armor (6 hours)

Knowledge(Arcana): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

Edward walks up next. In for an inch, etcetera. Not much of a choice at this point.
Reading over the Pact carefully, he processes the order of the Loyalties. I am contractually obliged to amass as much power as I can. Handy, that.

In constrast to Semirhage's flashy display, Edward simply pricks open a blood vessel and uses the offered quill. In a precise, florid scrawl, he signs Edward Lamoran Verric on both copies. With a mutter and a touch, he too cleans the blade for the next of his new companions. Casting prestidigitation to make the knife clean.


Male Dampir (Moroi-Born) 7 Antipaladin (HP: 60/60 | AC: 21+3=24 (23 if Shield) FF: 20 (22) T: 11 | F:+10 R:+7 W:+10 | Init:+1)
Auras:
Cowardice

Having seen both Edward and Semirhage sign so quickly he walks up next. Mordekai gives it a quick read and sees what everyone else does. He wonders if this contact was created by Asmodeus himself or if Thorn wrote it. Either way, his plans of killing Thorn don't change.

Mordekai picks up the quill and simply signs Mordkai. He stopped for a second to think about putting his last name but signing it would bring back too many bad memories. He takes out a cloth from his pocket and uses that to clean the quill before returning it.

"No fancy cleaning magic for me."

He says as he steps back.


Female Drow Ninja 6, (HP: 51 | AC:21 T:15 FF:16 | F:+5 R:+11 W:+4 | SR:12 | Init +5 Per +13 | Ki: 3/5)
Bonus:
+2 saves vs. Enchantments. Immunity to sleep.

Finally Vyllaria steps forward and reads the contract. She smiles as she notices the one potentially fatal flaw in the contract Andrastus has drawn up, the one that will allow her to remove the inconsequential Thorn once his usefulness is ended.

Then she picks up the dagger and quill. Pricking herself once on her left index finger, she draws forth a drop of blood. Carefully wielding the quill with a swift, fluid grace she signs "Vyllaria Drachyilin" in a neat cursive scrawl on the two copies of the contract, below the names of her compatriots.

Returning the ledger, Vyllaria smiles at Thorn and says, "We who have gathered here bear witness to the work of our lord, Asmodeus, and signing his contract we now gladly bear the mantel of his harbingers. What now would the master bid us do? What great task have you prepared for us, your humble servants, Master Thorn, 'He who speaks for Asmodeus'?

Possibly unnecessary, but I will roll both a diplomacy and bluff check to make sure Andrastus Thorn doesn't catch any hint of our quite obvious (at least among the party) intent to murder his ass at the first available opportunity.
Bluff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14
To clarify, the bluff is to conceal the intent, the diplomacy to to improve relations if he suspects treachery.
Hmm, both decent rolls, but of course its up to you. If you are running this off a script feel free to ignore all that.


Fallen Ainur Ex-Angel 15/ Evil Overlord 20

“Well done. Your first command: prepare yourselves. Stay within the manor. You are still hunted by the Talirean soldiery. In three days we begin your training.”

You are fed, fully rested, bathed and clothed in garments more befitting nobility than prisoners on the lam. For three days you can live a life of luxury and ease in the manor house. Feel free to describe your own personal montages, or collaborate with each other to make one giant montage. Bonus points may be awarded for quality roleplaying.

GM Screen:


You snitch. You just had to look, didn’t you.
Someone, or rather, something is sneaking around.

Stealth: 1d20 + 25 ⇒ (15) + 25 = 40

Tremble in fear, pitiful mortals!

Metagaming will be penalized by a %10 per capita reduction of loot.

And for the paranoid: a DC 40 Perception check!

Hmmm, in review, none of you can make it without expending a use of mythic power, which would be considered metagaming. Have fun!
o_O


Female Aasimar Sorcerer 1 | Oracle 1 | Mystic Theurge 4 (HP: 35/40 | AC:23 T:16 FF:17 | F:+6 R:+9 W:+7 | Init +8 Per +13)
Effects:
None

Semirhage bows to Thorn and heads back to her room to retire for the night. Selecting a deep crimson robe from the closet she instructs a nearby servant youth to fetch hot water for a bath.

Sinking into a warm tub, she commands, "I require my feet scrubbed, they have not seen this much abuse since I was a child." As the warm water and servant boy's soft hands soothe Semirhage she sinks into a deep and restful sleep, dreaming a harem of dark men carried her into bed...

Day 1:

On the first morning of her stay in Thorn's manor a platter of fruit, cheeses and nuts placed at the foot of her bed awakens Semirhage. Judging by the glow from the curtain windows, she slept well into the morning. Eating slowly she ponders how to make the best use of her time in the manor.

Making a decision, Semirhage stands and commands a nearby servant boy, "take me to the wizard Edward's room."

Reaching the door to Edward's room, Semirhage knocks simply, and calls, "Edward, are you in?"

Hearing a knock at the door, Edward closes his new spellbook and clears his throat. ”Come in,” he calls.

Semirhage enters the room, and spots Edward sitting before a closed book - the spellbook he recently acquired. She sashays slowly towards him and says, "Good morning Edward, I see you have settled in to this estate nicely."

”Well, it is a nice enough estate,” Edward replies with a hint of a smile. ”What brings you here today?”

“Curiosity, my friend,” begins Semirhage flirtatiously as she slinks into a nearby chair, “of all the inmates of Branderscar, you have aroused my interest most keenly. What was an academic doing in Branderscar and who hides behind that coy smirk?” It is clear that Semirhage, whether with sincere intent or not, is being overtly flirtatious towards Edward.

Edward cocks an eyebrow. ”To put it simply, I was bored and overconfident - a fairly… volatile combination. An academic, yes… but I have always been less interested in what is offered, and more interested in what is kept just out of reach,” he adds. ”Like yourself, for example.” She is driven by revenge, fervor, and sheer willpower. Powerful, yet dangerous.

Semirhage lets out a ringing laugh, “But Edward, a man need only be bold enough to steal my heart, and not in the way Vyllaria may intend. What would drive you into such boredom that you would… incinerate your prospects of a respectable future? Surely you were talented enough to find profitable work.” Semirhage allows the folds of her dress to shift revealingly as she leans toward Edward. Despite the display, her eyes betray subtle disgust towards Edward’s physique.

Edward leans back, his expression neutral. ”Let us be frank with each other. We are bound by the Third Loyalty, so no need for these silly games. It is not your heart I am after, but the mysteries you carry. I will answer your questions if you answer mine.”
” I have already given an answer to you, so allow me to ask the next question. Do you know Tiadora? She came to visit you at the prison.”

Semirhage gives Edward a deeply penetrating look, then relents sighing, “Sorry, I find it hard to lower my guard, but I will try.” A pained look crosses Semirhage’s face, “I do not know her, though I admit to feeling equal measures of envy and fear towards her. She visited me and I knew from her body language that I was supposed to feign that we were friends. I believe we have a new chance at life due to her intervention, but I cannot forget the hate I bear towards those cretins who follow Mitra, nor can I forgive them for their blindness and hatred. They bestowed upon me curses and called me evil, so I intend to exceed their expectations a thousandfold. If you can aid me in fulfilling my vendetta, you may consider me an ally in truth.”

Edward listens carefully, then nods. ”Very well. In answer to your previous question, I found that a life limited to a ‘respectable future’ was hardly worth living. I am brilliant, always have been. My studies occupied me, but also revealed how much I was missing. For every datum, there was another locked away as forbidden. So much to be learned, so much power that could be found, kept sealed behind the veil of morality or tradition - which are very nearly one and the same. Not content to receive only what dullards thought sufficient, I reached for more. The study of necromancy in particular intrigued me: animating the dead to walk again. The Mitrans care too much for the souls of the departed when they have so much to offer to the living. A brief extension of their stay on the Material Plane is all that is asked, a temporary servitude to benefit the still breathing.

"The small, the stupid, and the close-minded always flock towards those born for greatness, and so it was with me, from my early days of study in philosophy, logic, and rhetoric. It was simple to convince others to do what I wished. I had adoring followers, and it would be criminal not to use that power. My dream of tools that would not question, would not disobey, would not think to plot against me - and how small-minded those plots were - these were born from those days. To have followers who would not quibble amongst themselves, not harming each other’s work - my work - in a sad attempt to curry favour…” Edward grimaces, then sighs.

"I was caught by chance. I had developed a network of spies, though none of them thought of themselves as such. I started a riot, timing critically chosen. The Church and the government were the foes I had selected, for want of a better opponent. I was still reaching, still testing what I could do. It was too far, and when the hammer came down, it unexpectedly found me. I was tried and convicted of sedition in short order.” Edward gives a small shrug.

”Now for my question. When we were presented with Thorn’s offer, we had little choice but to accept. You, however, seemed quite enthusiastic about his proposal. Why?”

Semirhage considers her reply, adjusting her clothing to regain some modesty, “I was, in a time which seems now so far away, a priestess of Mitra himself. I was young, and sought the purity of the faith as well as the respect it would bring my family - who might be considered the very lowest and poorest of the noble class. From these meagre family connections I was spared the worst of the corruption within the mitran church, for those common women who sought to join the faith were… judged most harshly by the upper priesthood. I was entirely disenchanted when I came upon the high priest brutally lashing a young serving boy who had spilled a drop of wine on his robes as the glass was delivered.

"It was then I took a pilgrimage of sorts, but rather than to reaffirm my faith I sought ancient shrines to other deities which have been lost from the pantheon in this land. To be brief, my search revealed that no faith was pure but each brought new aspects of meaning and value. I was cast out of the mitran church after 'desecrating' the holiest sanctum by consecrating the idols of the old faiths, both good and evil, within it. They beat me, shamed me and locked me away, but I will have vengeance through Asmodeus' blessing." Some of the details strike Edward as missing or incorrect, but Semirhage's story, as a whole, rings true.

There is a momentary pause, then Edward speaks again. ”What,” he begins delicately, ”do you think of Cardinal Thorn? He seems a man of great power and means, despite being shunned from society. Tiadora has powerful enchanting abilities, yet she owes her allegiance to Thorn. I feel we are being trapped inside something whose workings we shall not see for a long time.”

Semirhage considers the question carefully, then says, “He is powerful, yes. How else would I to continue to develop my skills? For now, we share a common enemy in the Mitrans and I will make good use of all I can squeeze from him. As for Tiadora, enchantments can be undone or superseded, I have every confidence that in time my abilities will surpass hers. I can practically feel the potential within me, as unstoppable as my vengeance will be my coming to power. While they weave their nets around us I will sharpen my knives to cut away the rope, as I have no doubt you will do as well. I believe I have found what I was looking for Edward, so I will allow you to return to your studies.”

"Before I forget, here is your share of the coin we acquired during our escape." Edward strides over to his bag and draws out a fairly large, jingling sack. Contains 417 gp in various coins. Passing it to Semirhage, Edward gives a small bow. ”We are bound by our ambitions as well as our oath. Let there be no competition between us, but harmony. I feel the other two are more… unstable, perhaps, less capable of seeing the greater picture. It may take both of us to guide them down paths that will further our goals. I hope I can rely on you for that. And please,” he adds, ”if you come across any information about Thorn, Tiadora, or the cause we are now pledged to uphold, share that knowledge with me. We will need every advantage we can get.”

Semirhage holds his gaze for a moment, as if re-evaluating Edward. She then stiffly nods her head, “Of that we can be certain.” After departing Edward’s room, Semirhage lets out a small sigh of relief, “Well, unexpected allies are a rare treat. I will do my best to savour this one before he too betrays me.” I had better prepare for the coming storm, Edward sets a high standard with his studies.

After a few hours alone in her room any nearby observers hear a shout at the servants, “My bedding is singed and the walls here are too acid-stained for my taste. I require a new room for tonight, these accommodations are now entirely unacceptable.”

Day 2:

Semirhage wakes up on the second morning feeling exhausted after yesterday’s training, but contented that a new room had been so quickly prepared for her. Sighing aloud Semirhage thinks, ‘soon there will come a time when such luxury becomes normality for me, but until then I had better get the full enjoyment out of this.’. After lounging around all morning, Semirhage asks one of the servants to find her the dark-skinned, appealing youth.

Mordekai’s interruption occurs here.

Day 3:

On the third day Semirhage awakes to find she is already bored. “I can’t stand being cooped up like this!” she yells at the dark skinned slave lying petrified beside her. Untying him she accuses, “Have you not slept? You poor thing, run and fetch me breakfast. Quickly, I am not in a good mood.” The naked slave runs off quickly, whilst Semirhage cackles and ponders how she could possibly find some fun around this manor. ’That drow sure has a stick up her ass, perhaps I could tempt death herself… that would provide some entertainment.’

While Vyllaria is out strolling, Semirhage, giggling, makes her way down the hallway to Vyllaria’s unnocupied room. Stepping within she notes the condition of Vyllaria’s room.

The room is well kept, in fact it hardly looks like it has been touched since she took up residence. The fire place is cold, the bed sheets are made, and the windows are shut. The only thing that suggests Vyllaria has occupied this room at all is the remains of breakfast still sitting on the mantle, the delicately cured pork loin left completely untouched.

The singular other curiosity is the bust of some prominent figure left on the desk in the corner. No doubt a person of some significance, though she can't recognize who, nor does that truly matter. What is odd is that it appears to have been moved; turned so that it now faces the wall. Seeing this she realizes that what she mistook for another closed window is actually a large ornately framed portrait of Asmodeus himself, which had also been covered by curtains.

Making careful note of what she observes, Semirhage shivers, ‘Vyllaria is clearly cautious, I can see in her minimalistic needs that she tries to reveal nothing of herself to our current lord. She is very cold and calculating, does she even fear Asmodeus’ eyes upon her actions? I can’t help but worry that he will take her lack of trust in him as a small betrayal to her oath. Nevertheless, Vyllaria is herself dangerous, and shows great skill with her weapons. I wonder where she learned such skills, she certainly has left nothing of her past behind. Perhaps my best defense should she betray me is to have her completely underestimate my own abilities.’

Knowing that Vyllaria is no fool and will likely notice that her room has been disturbed, despite Semirhage’s reluctance to touch anything, she decides to hide her spying behind a childish prank. Using prestidigitation Semirhage colours all of Vyllaria’s walls and bedding a childish bright pink, with splashes of blue clouds, yellow stars, and red flowers. ‘That should hold for about an hour,’ Semirhage things, ‘and hopefully distract her from realizing my real motives should she come back soon. I am also curious how she will approach me should she assume the worst’. With a self-assured swagger Semirhage walks out of the room and quickly head back to her own chambers to requisition some gear for herself.

Cut to Vyllaria’s post.

Loot:

Requisition List:
Scrolls:
1x Mount
1x Jump
1x Hold Portal
1x Air Bubble
1x Comprehend Languages
3x Disguise Self
1x Silent Image
1x Erase
1x Touch of the Sea
1x Remove Fear


Female Drow Ninja 6, (HP: 51 | AC:21 T:15 FF:16 | F:+5 R:+11 W:+4 | SR:12 | Init +5 Per +13 | Ki: 3/5)
Bonus:
+2 saves vs. Enchantments. Immunity to sleep.

Vyllaria follows the others out of the chamber and heads back to her room. It is late and the day has been long. She intends to get as much rest as possible before tomorrow begins.

Day 1:

She wakes early the next morning, a combination of wariness and practiced routine arouses her just as the first ray of the sun's light touches the fringes of the heavy samite curtains. She slept the night in her clothes from the previous day, and the dagger she took from Tiadora's veil is still where it lay under her pillow, but now that the new day has dawned she feels it is time to regain some of her lost composure. Searching through the wardrobe she selects a finely woven shirt of black silk and matching pantaloons, which she puts on, using a woven snakeskin belt with a silver buckle to clasp it at the waist.

What disappoints Vyllaria the most is the distinct lack of protective gear present. ”Servant!’ she calls out. In the reflection of the mirror she sees a servant enter the doorway behind her. Is that the same one as showed me to my room yesterday? I shall have to be more careful. Most slaves tend to look the same to me.

Without turning around she says, ”Tell lady Tiadora that I require fresh arms and armor. Finely crafted studded leather, and a pair of short blades should suffice. And dispose of these,” she says, waving to the rusted chain shirt and sword lying on the chair where she deposited them yesterday, ”they are relics unfitting for one of my particular talent.”

The servant mumbles something quickly, gathers up the old rusted gear and then departs.

She examines herself once more in the mirror with a certain dissatisfaction. Retrieving the sharpened gold comb, the one she used to slay the first guard in their glorious escape from Branderscar prison, she does up her hair in a tight bun, pinning it with the pointed handle of the comb. Finally satisfied she nods and turns to the door. Vyllaria has never been one for vanity, but in her line of work she has learned the value of appearances. It tends to work in one's favour if your target assumes you to be only that which you portray, be it the beggar, the clerk, the whore, or the aristocrat.

Vyllaria leaves her room and spends the rest of the morning wandering the halls of the manse. She walks slowly, taking in the detail of her surroundings. While she may be a stone-cold killer, one thing she does have a keen appreciation of is art. It was one of the few things her parents managed to pass on to her during her stubborn adolescent years. But her examination is not just for self indulgence. She is also keenly searching for any signs of hidden rooms or devices. Her experience has taught her that such are often common among the houses of the rich and eccentric.

Taking 20 on a general search of the house. If that's too much to do in a few hours let me know. Perception = 27.
Resolved: I took my inferences from what you posted in the discussion.

She strolls through the kitchen, where she finds a number of servants busy preparing the day's meals. She fishes an apple out of a barrel and continues on her way. The pleasant crunch of the fresh fruit brings a smile to her face. Having been forced to suffer prison gruel for the past number of weeks, the sweet juice of the fruit tastes to her of victory.

She wanders into a long hallway lined with various suits of plate armor. Leaning against the wall between two such statues she continues to munch on the fruit. Then she notices a figure approaching from one end of the hall...

Her conversation with Mordekai happens here...

As Mordekai leaves, Vyllaria is left with some confusion. There is something I do not trust about his openness, she thinks to herself, the most clever of thieves will take from you with an open smile and walk away all the richer. And there's something else, the fact that he said 'We' with such enthusiasm. There is something I am missing here... She broods on that thought for a moment with distaste. Still he has a point. We are stuck here for the next few days, and if we must work together, we may as well take the time to get to know each other.

It is a though that will take some getting used to. She is unaccustomed to working with a team as they tend to create liabilities in her line of work, but something tells her she will need them before this is over. She resolves to speak to Edward on the following morning. No doubt he can be found in the library engrossed in his studies. At least a conversation with him is likely to be informative, if a bit dull.

Vyllaria returns to her room pleased to find that the servant has procured exactly what she asked for. The studded leather is of master craftsmanship, and the swords were produced with belt and scabbards ready. Several daggers were also produced, much to her delight. They are all resting neatly on the chair by her bed.

I shall have need of those later, but for now I need rest. Tomorrow I will seek out the library, and perchance our wizard compatriot.

Day 2:

The next day, after equipping herself and picking over her breakfast, Vyllaria makes for the library.

As the door to the library creaks open, Edward looks up from the tome he is poring over. ”Ah, hello there, Vyllaria.”

”Edward,” Vyllaria replies curtly. She proceeds to busy herself searching for volumes written on Tallingarde noble houses, pretending not to pay the wizard any mind. She is waiting to see if he wishes to talk or if he is simply content to continue his reading.

Edward returns to his books without a second glance at Vyllaria. After several minutes of silence Vyllaria finally broaches conversation.

”I’m curious about you, Edward,” she begins, ”I’d like to know, what makes a man like you tick? Surely wealth and power are simple luxuries anyone could want, but I suspect grander motives.”

Edward looks up from his book. ”I simply wish to fulfill my potential. There is so much to be learned, so much to be done, so much to be mastered… the world is full of opportunity. I try to push the limits of what is possible.”
”From the little I have seen of you, you seem to display a vast array of useful talents. It was your ability to pick the locks holding us in the prison that enabled our escape. I don’t believe anyone else has expressed their thanks for that, so allow me to be the first.”

"Your words are kind, Edward, but if you think flattery will soften me, you are mistaken. Tell me, how difficult was it for you to be trapped in that cell and know that your magic could not save you?” Vyllaria does her best to conceal the coldness in her voice but the menace leaks through unbidden. The fire in her eyes betrays her pleasure in seeing a magician squirm because of her ability to perform where he could not.

”It was a serious problem, that,” Edward admits. ”If it had not been for your help, and that of the Lady Tiadora, it would have ended poorly. You see, the greatest failing of a wizard is that he is only a wizard - the study required to master magic leaves one… deficient in other areas. Thorn has the right of it - we must work together, allowing our strengths to overlap the weaknesses of others. My gifts lie in intelligence and the intricacies of magic. Aside from picking locks, where do your talents lie?”

"In subterfuge and deceit, and the hidden blade," she says with a definitive air. Finally pulling an old tome off the shelf, she settles into an armchair on the near side of the room, and begins thumbing through the pages. "You know what I like about you Edward? You're pragmatic, a realist. Unlike our other companions, you seem to have a firm head on your shoulders. A fact you demonstrated by speaking only little in the presence of our new master. You work in the details and intricacies. And I should think your wealth of knowledge must be nearly inexhaustible. A man like you could go a long way and have the foresight necessary to keep his position. And I admire you for that. But for all your cunning you have a weakness..." she lets the statement hang. In response, Edward only raises an eyebrow expectantly, so she continues. "Your magic, Edward. You are dependant on it. It has become your sword and shield and crutch. And when it fails, you will be left helpless and abandoned to the clutches of this cruel world. Magic is a curse, make no mistake. It will draw you in with the promise of power and then hang you out for the crows."

”You speak with such bitterness. I would have thought an elf would respect the power of magecraft more, with their natural propensity for such arts. You will have to tell me more of your experiences some time, I feel…”
”The magic I command is no wild, uncontrolled force working through me. Rather, it is an extension of my studies, and the next step to master the world around me. I work the unnatural into existence through practice, study, and force of will. I bind magical essences as a science - with predictable results, by repeatable methods. Make no mistake - magic is but a tool, and it is the wielder that makes all the difference.”

”The physical world limits us. A cunning stonemason could build a mighty wall, thick and broad. By shaping the blocks skillfully, he can make boulders launched by massive siege engines bounce off with barely a scratch. However, his work has a limit. A structure of stone can only be so strong - unless magic is invoked. Ordinary stone can be fortified by spells, increasing its strength twofold. It is the natural next step once the limits of physical ingenuity are reached. I study magic for this reason - I wish to perform feats nature cannot permit. I bend and break the rules of the world, for in the cracks lie true potential.”

”While magic is the talent I have practiced the most, it is far from the only skill I have developed. There is a cost in opportunity to everything we do. My studies in magic, your studies in stealth - we have traded away things for the mastery we strive for. Such is life. I am not strong in the ways you are strong, but that does not make me weak. On the contrary, it makes us stronger when we work together, as our weaknesses mesh with each other’s strengths.”

Vyllaria weighs Edward's words with glacial concentration, her expression revealing nothing of her inner thoughts. She waits respectfully until he has finished and then says, "well, at least you see reason, even if our views of magic differ..."

After a moment she says, "I find myself in an uncomfortable position, Edward. Given that we are consigned to work as a team, I feel the need to trust you, at least for the time being. To me, you seem to be the most tolerable character in our rag-tag little group, and I have every reason to believe that your knowledge and intellect will be most useful in the days to come. But also know this, Edward: I know where my faults lie, and I know how to compensate for them, so do not believe for an instant that I am incapable of acting on my own..." With that Vyllaria gets up to leave.

”Oh, I certainly believe you are capable of a great deal of things. Before you leave, I have something for you.” Edward reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small sack of coins, filled with the highest-denomination coins from their escape. ”This is your share of the coin we liberated from Branderscar. There are also some saleable items, but those will have to wait a couple more days.” 417 gp in the bag.
Edward looks deep into Vyllaria’s eyes as she takes the money, and softly closes, ”Vyllaria, if there is anyone here you can trust, it is me.” With that, he returns to his book.

Vyllaria closes the library door behind her, letting out a sigh. She realizes just how stressful her conversation with the wizard was. Thinking about how composed Edward remained through it, she becomes angry with herself - angry that she allowed her distaste for magic to get between her and her objective of learning about Edward's character. That could have gone better. Still, at least I got my point across. Now he knows where we stand.

Realizing she still has the book on Tallingarde family lineages, she heads back to her room to pore over its contents. We have only a day left to be cooped up in this house. Perhaps tomorrow I can explore the grounds and get some fresh air. The notion pleases her, especially since it delays an encounter with the resident fanatic. Vyllaria cringes as she anticipates eventually having to confront Semirhage...

Day 3:

The next day after her morning routine, she decides to take a stroll around the grounds. Heading outside she walks around the gardens. However she quickly discovers that her training will not allow her to simply take a casual stroll, as she begins counting the number of places one might set up an effective ambush, stash a secure dead drop, or hide a body. She grins wickedly as she passes by the pool out back by the hedge maze, as she imagines it filled with ravenous piranhas.

Just then, something catches her eye. A flicker of motion and flash of light from one of the upper windows reflected off the surface of the water. She looks up to the house and sees a curtain flapping in a window. East wing, second floor, three down from the main atrium. Past the sitting room, south side of the hall. That would be on the right... my room? What in oblivion is going on up there!?

Vyllaria rushes back into the house, barreling past several servants carrying platters bearing the mid day meal. Finding the door to her room unlocked and slightly ajar, she opens it cautiously. What greets her is the last thing she expected. The entire room has been turned bright,sparkling pink, like a ballerina’s tutu. Vyllaria stands aghast, unable to comprehend, too stunned to react. Then she clenches her fists and storms out in search of Semirhage. There’s only one b**** in this group crazy enough to even attempt something like this. And when I find her, there will be hell to pay...

After forcing her location from a passing servant (who nearly defecated in his trousers when he beheld Vyllaria’s wrathful approach) Vyllaria bursts into Semirhage’s room and demands, ”What have you done with my room?”

Vyllaria observes Semirhage’s room to be in a minor state of mess, with the scars of various battle magics marring the walls. However, her immediate vicinity is almost gaudy in its pampered excess; a nearly nude servant is standing off to one side holding a bushel of grapes as Semirhage seems to meditate on a plush sofa. If Vyllaria is paying very close attention she can see a faint settling of dust around the sofa as if its occupant had just sat down in a great rush of silken gown.

Without so much as a flinch, Semirhage maintains her meditative stance with eyes closed. “The Lady Demelain has asked that she not be disturbed in her time of commune with Asmodeus,” the servant croaks, not sure which woman to fear more.

If it is possible for a face to display both befuddlement and contempt, Vyllaria’s does so right then. She is playing me, she realizes, somehow she has found a weakness and used it against me. I should have been more cautious. I should have expected this. Well, I’ll not have myself made a fool of. I’ll not play to her tune. I’ll show her that I have the right to demand respect.

”I have every respect for your devoted meditation and conference with our lord Asmodeus,” she says, ignoring the petrified servant, “but I would never be so unwise as to break what compact has been signed in his name. Are we not bound to each other by writ and blood? And yet here you have found, in your leisure, some way to incite my wrath. I would like to know why?” An awkward silence fills the room for a moment, ”Are we not to work as a team, Semirhage?”

Semirhage allows her face to crack into a severe grin, “I assure you Vyllaria, I have only our best interests at heart. I have more respect than you may assume for your talent and focus, but I find your personality to be decidedly lacking in… facets. Somewhat haughtily Semirhage adds, “the challenges we face cannot be overcome by closing ourselves off from the world we seek to overturn, no matter your subtlety and calculations there will be times where you need to react in ways which may never have occurred to you before. You may think me petty and childish, for indeed I can be that, but your display here shows me that you are volatile and rash when surprised. I think you could gain much from being more adaptive, never mind gaining a sense of humour.

“As for my oaths, you can be assured that their bindings will hold me more strongly than they do you. This is not mere boast, but an integral part of the revelations I have received from the divine. The first covenant I swore was before them, and it binds me still - though its purpose I have twisted.”

Vyllaria has to think a moment about her answer. It appears I might have misjudged Semirhage. She is certainly perceptive. I shall have to be careful how I approach dealing with her.

"Forgive me if I do not seem entirely assured of your 'noble' intentions, but know that I take the oaths we swore seriously, even if I choose to read between the lines. You know of what I speak. Our first loyalty is to our lord Asmodeus, the puppet Thorn falls second. Certainly you must see how this will play out. Sooner or later the puppet will need to be replaced, and when that time comes, let us pray that we are fitting instruments of the divine to carry out that missive.

”In light of that, I have not been idle. I have spent the majority of my time studying our master. Did you know that we are not the only guests he entertains? I caught only but a glimpse of several figures - four of them I should think - in the west wing. I was not permitted to investigate further as Tiadora showed up exactly then to usher me away. My conclusion? The house is being watched, in one way or another. That is why I have taken the precautions I have with my room."

Vyllaria takes a moment to regard the furnishings of Semirhage's room with greater acuity. She notes the opulence with which Semirhage has bedecked herself. She notes the constant presence of the servants she keeps about. And she notes the various ornate portraits, most of which seem to have been used as target practice. "I take it this notion of secrecy has not occurred to you?" she asks, pointedly. "You do realize Thorn could have easily hidden any number of surveillance charms around this room. Statues and portraits are the most common, something about the presence of eyes makes it easier for spell casters to use them as Scrying outlets. No doubt his servants too are an exploitable source of information. Their brains are obviously addled by magical enchantments; it would be easy to pry their memories from them with the proper spells..."

Semirhage gives Vyllaria a pitying look, and speaks as if talking to a child, “Sweet Vyllaria, your concern is touching, yet I need nothing of your advice or paranoia. This would hardly be a game worth playing if we were the only pieces on the board. However, I may still find a use for you.” Semirhage stands in a long fluid motion and steps quickly to Vyllaria’s side. Clasping her in a violently passionate embrace, Semirhage whispers softly, “Do not think me so naive, I have given them nothing, friend.” Vyllaria stiffens. It suddenly dawns on her that the servant has been standing by the couch this whole time, well within earshot of very thing she has said. Then she connects what Semirhage said and blushes, embarrassed by her carelessness. Thankfully her dark skin hides it. Semirhage steps back and adopts a look of disgust, yet winks at Vyllaria, “Or perhaps not, your bones are far too prominent, has Tiadora not been feeding you well? If you are done wasting my time, you may leave.”

Vyllaria regards Semirhage icily for a moment, then inclines her head stiffly in acknowledgement. "The diet you humans take is less to my liking than I would readily admit. I will rest easier when we are free to leave this place." Separating herself from Semirhage she adds, "You want me on your side, Semirhage. I came here to tell you that. Now that I have, I will remove myself from your presence. I only pray that you think more carefully of how you deal with your allies in the future."

With that she stalks out of the room. Her brief conversation with Semirhage has left her frustrated, and she has developed a twitch. I was right about one thing, she muses, the sooner we are free to leave this place, the sooner I will feel more myself again. I have a present urge to kill something and I doubt out master would take it kindly if I were dispose of one of his servants. I need a distraction...

She decides to head for the armory. Once there she finds an oil cloth and whetstone and begins examining her daggers one by one. Their craftsmanship is certainly excellent, but she decides to see if she can hone the blades any better. Gently working the stone against the blade she lulls herself into a sort of trance and allows her mind to relax.

Suddenly the stone slips and clips the blade sending a shard of metal flying. In frustration Vyllaria hurls the dagger at the wall. It strikes a wooden beam and embeds itself to the hilt. Realizing what a foolish action that was she tries to remove the dagger. It is stuck fast and though she fights with it, it will not budge. She clicks her tongue in annoyance and leaves the dagger where it is, taking a replacement off the shelf instead. Then she takes the rest of her gear and leaves.

Day 3, conclusion:

She does not return to her room. Instead she finds a staircase leading to the upper balcony. From there she climbs the latticework of the building's exterior to the roof. Finding a spot on the western end that is somewhat out of the wind, she sits and collects herself.

Several hours pass. Eventually from within the house she hears the sounds of the servants bringing around the evening's meal. She doesn't bother to get up, she just sits there, watching the wind stir the leaves in the trees; watches at it turns the forest at the bottom of the hill into a living sea of green and gold. Eventually the sun approaches the horizon, bathing the clouds in a soft magenta before slowly sinking from view.

It's only been a few days since Branderscar, she thinks to herself, and yet it feels like that was ages ago. Somehow, though I have lived for a hundred years, that event has marked itself as it's own chapter in my life, and I will never be able to forget it. Seeing the parapets blazing should have been enough, yet the ghost of that place still lingers. Perhaps it is a reminder, a reminder of the failure before that brought it about. If I do not change, I will be doomed to repeat the same mistakes again...

Slowly the moon rises over the trees - a great white orb rising out of a sea of foliage. From her vantage point she watches its slow and somewhat haunting ascension, as it rises to take it's place in the night sky. Cupping her hands she pulls forth a small ball of light from within her self. She feels the tingling of the power being drawn trough her fingers, a sensation she felt akin to conjuring forth a portion of her very soul. The pale, source-less ball of light mimics the moon's glow.

Just as the moon's light is a reflection of the sun, this light is but a reflection of the power within me. Blessing or curse, I'm not sure that I know anymore. Things change. Perhaps I am the one who needs to change now. I've spent the last seven years on my own, pursuing my mission, only to end up in prison, bound to hang. Maybe I need these new allies more than I realize.

Somewhere in the distance she hears an owl hoot, once, twice. A chorus of frogs has started up from the pond by the hedge maze, though their voices come and go, hushed by the gentle sighing of the wind.

I wasn't in control of myself when I spoke to Semirhage. Instead I made a fool of myself. I allowed my petty judgement of her character to cloud my vision and let my anger steer my words. Even she must have a part to play in the days to come. I have to allow myself to see that. Hmm, Edward said something much the same when I spoke to him yesterday, and I still walked out on him like I knew better. Even Mordekai showed his foresight when he took the trouble to seek me out just to have a conversation.

It seems I am no better than mother after all. No matter how hard I try I still end up making enemies of those who care for me. I'm sorry brothers, I have failed you again. But I promise you once more, I will overcome my weakness and avenge you...

The light in her hands eventually flickers and dies, leaving her in the gloomy half-light cast by the moon. A little while later she picks herself up and makes her way back to her room. The climb back to the balcony is only marginally more difficult in the moonlight and she takes care to make as little noise as possible as she returns, though she doesn't see anyone as she does so. She finds her room and once inside is relieved to see that the furnishings have returned to their normal colours. Without even removing her weapons she falls onto the bedding and immediately drifts off to sleep.


Male Dampir (Moroi-Born) 7 Antipaladin (HP: 60/60 | AC: 21+3=24 (23 if Shield) FF: 20 (22) T: 11 | F:+10 R:+7 W:+10 | Init:+1)
Auras:
Cowardice

Mordekai bows to Thorn and walks out of the room. Three days stuck here with nothing to do.

‘I am sure that I can find some way to pass the time’.

Day 1:

Mordekai knows what he should do, but actually doing it is... uncomfortable. The real question is which one to start with?

’Start with the hot one!’

No. Mordekai thinks

’I call vote, all in favor rise! Woot! 2 votes means a majority. To the evil elf-ish lady.’

Mordekai look down at his pants and understands that he has been out voted. Control was not in Reaver’s vocabulary. Sleep now and tomorrow try to find the Drow. So after a good nights sleep and raiding the kitchen for breakfast Mordekai sets off the find the assassin. If she was a professional assassin, like he thinks, where would she be? Rule one: know the environment. That means it is time for Mordekai to wander the house and hopefully stumble upon her. Not a great plan but simple enough to follow. This also served his desire to explore too. After a couple of hours he finally finds the women in a hallway lined with plate armor. A fitting meeting point.

”Ah, there you are Vyllaria. I have been looking for you."

"Have you now?" Vyllaria cocks an eyebrow, "well, it seems you have found me. What's on your mind?" Vyllaria takes another bite of apple.

"Hell, how do I start this? Where are my words when I need them. Wait, I know how to start. Do you know how I found you? I merely asked myself 'what would a professional do?'"

"I'm intrigued, Mordekai. Very well, tell me: what do you think a professional-" and here she waves her hand in a general indication of herself- "-would do?"

"Well, the first thing a professional does when they enter a new place is look for exits in case you need to leave quickly or more importantly quietly. 'Know your environment and always have an escape plan.' Professionals have rules and standards, and for that they have my respect. I don’t know much about being a professional but I do know this. What is of equal importance to knowing your environment? Know your target. Your mark, the one who will not be breathing at the end of the night. Let me tell you something about myself. I am not a professional. I am a mad man with a silver tongue who dresses nicer than most. You can’t trust me to be a professional but you can trust me not to back stab you. I want this quest to work. I want this group to survive and more importantly complete it’s goal. We can not complete our goal if we all are expecting knives to puncture our spine. I will not betray you. It serves no purpose for me other than bloodlust, and that I usually save for my enemies. In return I expect the same respect that I show to you. And this is the important part. I won’t find one of your knives in my spine. We don’t murder each other, seems simple enough. Should go without saying but with me it is always best to be clear. So, Drow assassin, do we have an understanding?”

Mordekai extends his hand and doesn’t try to hide his psychopathic smile.

”Assassin? Ha!” Vyllaria chuckles to herself, ignoring the outstretched hand for now. ”For all your charm, Mordekai, you still lack in subtlety. You label me as one who enjoys nothing more than to kill for coin or trinkets. I am nothing so crass nor inconsiderate, and I can assure you that I am far more deadly for it.” to emphasize her point, Vyllaria places the finished apple core in Mordekai’s open hand.

Without waiting for a reply she continues, ”You wish to gain my trust Mordekai, is that it? Then I will need to get to know you, and as a gesture of good faith, allow me to tell you a bit about myself.

”You either have access to some very well kept secrets, or you have had previous encounters with my kind to know that I am one of the Drow. It is not without reason that those born of the surface world know naught of our existence. It has been that way for millennia unnumbered, but that way is about to change. I am one of the advance guard - the infiltrators of my people. I was sent to the above world to learn what I could of the rulers of this region, this Tallingarde, and to undermine its political structure where I could, to make ready for the coming invasion. I was chosen for this duty because of my skills,” Vyllaria flashes a set of perfect white teeth at Mordekai after she says this, “...but also, it seems, because I was a disgrace to my family. They wished to be rid of me, and so gave me this assignment so as to be done away with me... They very nearly got what they wished for, had not Lady Tiadora come to our cell less than a fortnight ago.”

”Now what of you, my pale-skinned friend? What makes you so eager to join the pact we have engaged in with this Andrastus Thorn? You were a soldier were you not? Disgraced for treason and desertion, I believe. And yet I can tell you yourself are something more than human, hmmm?” She lets the last sentence hang, waiting for his reply.

Mordekai laughs as he eats the rest of the apple core left in his hand. No point in letting it go to waste. This Drow is good at speaking and she has revealed much about herself. It is only fair that he gives her a little information too.

”Do you think that assasin’s only kill for money? Ha, there are many that are motivated by ideals and not cash. Those are often far deadlier. As for me being subtle what is the point when we are all friends? We have all joined this pact. We are all bound together. You want to know why I choose to join? My dear, it is because WE want to see it burn. I want to see my CO burn, I want to see his daughter burn, I want to see every noble house that I ever played dress up for burn. My reason is simple but motivation complex. Or at least, I like to think it is. Before I speak more, we have a question. Tell me what do you think I am?”

"I would surmise from your pale complexion and adverse reaction to our host's wine that your blood is tainted with the curse of the grave," she states, matter-of-factly, "and judging by your prominently pointed incisors, I would wager your blood is linked with the stalkers of the night, namely the vampires. How far off am I?"

”Stalker of the night. Hahahaha. It has been a long time since I heard that term. Please, they are nothing more than stalkers of ballrooms and young women. My father was the monster you speak of. He was quite the man. Took me on all kinds of adventures, bathed me in my mother’s blood. You know a good family man. Tell me was your father a rotten bastard too? Many who under take our kind of work have family issues. I wonder who scorned that Aasimar. I bet that is quite the tale.”

"Hmph," Vyllaria snorts, "father was little more than a dog on a leash, kept around solely for the purpose of breeding. Still, I suppose I should be grateful to him. After all, he's part of the reason why I am here today." The way she drifts off at the end suggests she is not talking about simple parentage.

However she quickly moves on from that memory. "Mother was the head of our house," she says, with growing disdain, "as has always been the way of my people. She was as cold-hearted and ruthless a b**** as ever there was. Her word was law, and all those who disobeyed were... removed. I needn't tell you how much I loathed her, suffice to say I was not the most rebellious of my sisters, but I was the most disappointing."

”Loved ones can create wounds that last almost forever.” Mordekai says as he rubs his ring finger. ”I got what I wanted out of this conversation and maybe more. I thank thee for thy honesty.” He says with a bow and walks away before any other memories could creep to the surface. Reaver suppresses them, no point in thinking about the past.

Day 2:

Day 2 begins and another talk must be had. If nothing else Mordekai wants to find out a little bit more information about his group and the let’s not kill each other speech is a good way to start. Who to talk to today? The talk with the Drow went well so why not talk to the other female. To Semirhage! She has been spending the majority of time in her room so Moderkai start his search there. It is still morning but she should be up. He heard singing not that long ago and he doesn’t think that she can sing in her sleep. Mordekai just goes and knocks on her door.

”Semirhage, may I come in? There is a matter I wish to talk about.”

Hearing noises within, but no direct response Mordekai decides to just enter the room. Within he sees Semirhage riding on the back of a naked slave, giggling wickedly. Sweat glistens as the slave struggles to keep up the gruelling pace as Semirhage demands more speed.

Startled by the appearance of Mordekai at her doorway, Semirhage falls off the back of the slave. She picks herself up nonchalantly and smooths out the folds of her dress. With a small cough, she addresses him, "welcome to my chambers Mordekai, you have caught me in the middle of... mounted combat training. To what do I owe this unexpected... pleasure?"

”HAHAHAHAHA! Well I did have a nice speech planned but this is just too funny. Just give me a sec… Hehe... okay I am better. Believe it or not but this is the second time I have walked in on someone undergoing mounted combat training. You think I would have learned to wait before entering. Well, no matter we all have tastes. Back to the reason that I came here. We both know there are two different types of people in this world. Those that rule and those that get ruled. Case in point what you were just doing. There is a third option for those of us that just don’t care. You want to rule. Your ambition is what I find most interesting about you. We both know that that contract is full of holes so I am here to make one thing clear. I will not betray you. You want to climb to the top, I will not get in your way. Hell I will probably be the one helping you. I am here just so I can watch this island burn and have some fun along the way. A simple understanding is all I ask, don’t kill each other. Understand Semirhage?”

Semirhage struggles to keep a neutral face to hide her embarrassment. 'At least no one is likely to take Mordekai at his word.'

"Very well, but you must understand that killing is the least amusing way to rid myself of threats. Since you wish to hear it, I swear to never use weapons nor the arcane to harm you, Mordekai. My words, however, shall be free to mock and deride you so long as you are deserving of it. You speak to me of ambition? You cannot begin to imagine the plans I have to reshape these lands, under my authority. All I ask of you, dear Mordekai, is to be worthy of my attention; I am easily bored and do not suffer fools lightly. Semirhage gives Mordekai a flat stare, communicating with little subtlety that he is on shaky footing in her eyes. It is clear she does not take the giving of oaths as lightly as her pandering towards Thorn might suggest, and that Mordekai has asked much more of her than he suspected.

”Deserving to be mocked? My dear we all deserve it for we are all fools that think we have reshape the world to meet our needs. However, I look forward to seeing how the land looks under your rule or maybe Thorn’s. We owe him our allegiance do we not? While killing is not the most amusing way to get rid of a threat it is the simplest and often the quickest.” Mordekai meets Semirhage’s flat stare with a playful smile. ”Relax that look of yours, Simer. Don’t you trust me? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I will leave you to your combat training. Just one more thing; never trust a mad man who just wants to see the world burn. I look forward to having another talk. This one went so well. Till next time.” Semirhage lets out a dismissive snort, thinking ‘well indeed...’ as Mordekai bows and walks out the door. He got more than he wanted out of that conversation.

Day 3:

Day 3. Last of day of this stupid waiting game that Thorn is playing. Not that some day of rest weren’t welcomed but being forced to rest is never comfortable. Two down and one to go. Off to the wizard. This should be a simple talk. Mordekai has only heard him speak like 4 words. Maybe he is still in his room. Mordekai gets his breakfast and some extra and heads to the wizards room. Why not show up with a little bit of food? Break the ice with something. Moderkai heads over to Edward’s room and knocks on the door.

”Edward, are you in? It seems as if I have filled my breakfast plate to the point that I can’t eat it all. Care to join me for a meal?”

Edward looks up from the desk where he has been preparing to copy spells between his spellbooks. Ah, the dhampir. It would be good to see what motivates him, and how he can be best used.
”Come in, Mordekai. I would be delighted.”

Mordekai enters with a plate full of food. ”It seems like my eyes were bigger than my stomach today and I thought to myself who haven’t I talked to yet? Why, the answer is you. Shall we eat first then talk or talk then eat? Makes no difference to me?”

”Let us break our fast first. I thank you for bringing this - I might have forgotten, otherwise. I’m planning on spending the day copying spells from this new book to my old one, and I tend to get fairly caught up in my work.” Edward accepts the food offered him, feeding some fruit to Archaeros.

”What is your birds name? Is is a very beautiful…. thrush, I think. Too often we try to imitate nature’s natural beauty and fail. I can’t count the number of times I have seen noble women try to look like a bird or men try to look like a lion. Fools, the lot of them.”

”This is Archaeros. He is indeed a thrush, good eye. αρχαιeros, χαιρετήσει τη νέα μου σύντροφος.” Edward speaks in a mellifluous, almost sing-song language. Archaeros flutters to Edward’s outstretched finger, which he holds between him and Mordekai.
”Θα είναι περίεργο, αλλά εγώ σας χαιρετώ σε ειρήνη.” chirps the bird to Mordekai in the same language.
Edward gives Archaeros a gentle, scolding tap on the head and a wry grin. ”He says… greetings.”
” I believe your sentiment to be true - there is little worse than poor imitation. It shows a lack of skill and taste by the imitator, and debases the one imitated.”

”Ha, I like your bird even though I am guessing his greeting was less than civil. I am enjoying this conversation, and I wish to continue it past my next point but I must bring up the reason why I am here. I think you are a reasonable man so I will just say it straight. I won’t betray you, Edward. It makes no sense and it only only undermines my position as well. I don’t kill you, you don’t kill me. A simple understanding between friends. Please don’t take offense at me asking.”

Edward raises his eyebrows at the bizarre non-sequitur. ”Refreshing as that is to hear you explicitly state, I figured our Third Loyalty all but precluded that. Speaking of…” Edward strides over to his pack and pulls out a jingling bag. ”Here is your share of the coin we acquired during our escape. There are also some valuable items that we can divide once they are sold.” 417 gp in assorted coins.
”Now,” he continues, hands folded, ”is there a specific reason you decided this was important to tell me?”

Mordekai reaches over, takes the money and puts it in his pocket. No need to count it now, would be to rude. ”Ah yes the third loyalty. There is a saying that holds true throughout the many nobles that I have meet. Oaths are made to be broken but your word is not. Contracts are broken or ignored in business deals, marriages terminated because of a new young nobility coming of age and people simply lying.” Mordekai starts itching his ring finger but he stops himself and continues. ”Once you flat out ask them a question and there are no grand speeches or signatures, that holds weight. That contract was a deal with something else saying that I will be loyal to you. I am here talking to you. Not the higher ranking official trying to make the kids play nice. Actions you choose to take hold weight, unlike those forced upon you. That I why I am here Edward. Oath’s and contracts have been polluted to the point of being meaningless. Look and you will find a loophole that also you to do whatever you want in a contract. Also, do you actually trust anyone? In our group we have an assassin, a power hungry woman, a mad man and you. We are all crazy and someone needs to start building some trust.”

Edward mulls this over quietly. He recognizes that Mordekai’s objections are not idle conjecture, but pries no further. ”I appreciate you being forthright. I can promise you the same - I will not try to have you killed, by my hand or another. I do disagree with you on the strength of the contract we just signed, however. Do you know much of Asmodeus?”
Edward continues, answering his rhetorical question. ”He commands the armies of Hell, order perfected. He is one of the wisest and most powerful beings in the universe. He is the god of contracts, and this one was signed in his name, under the direction of his high priest. With the attention he has already given us, I feel divine eyes are watching us. That is one oath I would fear to break.”
”As for my trust? It cannot have been earned in the short time we have known each other. Semirhage is fanatical, inflamed with revenge, and has powerful magic coursing through her veins. Vyllaria is secretive, untrusting, and deadly. As for you, you offhandedly label yourself mad. No, trust is not yet earned. However, it is borrowed with our contract, until the time it is replaced with the real thing. We have begun to build our trust now. This is good. What would you like to further discuss?”

”I knew you would be the sensible one. I am glad that you share some of the same feeling that I do. I would like to further discuss how you ended up in that jail cell. The others, myself included, are not subtle. It is understandable how we ended up caught but how did you end up in there? I have also forgotten your charge so that would have answered some of my questions.”

”Sedition is what they brought me in for. I have always made the accumulation of knowledge my goal, and to that end I had a wide network of associates feeding me information about anything and everything. I felt I had no limits, completely safe in the web I had woven. I pushed the limits farther and farther, until I suddenly found the line a few paces behind me, so to speak. I used my contacts to rally a riot against the government-run church, as I felt no other opponent would have the resources to challenge me. A sudden run of bad luck later, and I am tried and convicted for instigating sedition.”
”What of yourself?”

”Scooping out my Commanding Officer’s eyes with a fork. Yeah, that will get one charged with desertion. I should probably explain. You know what I am and that has a certain draw for some noble families. There are many humans that want to get ahead of other noble families. They think that outliving the competition is a simple solution because they think it works that way. I was serving a tour with the military for something to do for a couple of years. There I meet my CO’s daughter and I think we actual loved each other at the start. Skip ahead a couple of years and a very expensive ring and we are on are way to get married until another family came up with a better offer. Turns out she loved money more than me and left me standing there. Well, I wasn’t going to let the after party go to waste and it was on their tab so me and the guests had fun. Right when I am in the middle of eating the wedding cake, she bursts in with her father, angry that we still had the party. She starts yelling while I just ignored her and kept eating. She said something that got me angry, I said somethings that got her angry, we had a verbal fight. I apparently insulted their family honor so her dad pulls out a sword. So I stabbed my fork into his eyes and removed them. Since he was a political officer wasn’t really part of the actual army but the legion for rich young nobles to say that they have served and I didn’t actual fill out the paperwork for the day off, I get charged with desertion. They also never found any of the other bodies so no murder charges. Rivers are great that is all I can say. She never could swim. I will admit that they rocks were over kill but I didn’t want her coming back up. It is kinda a funny story looking back on it. Ah, the love that was never meant to be. We all have stories of that. Anything else you wanted to know?”

Edward is quiet after Mordekai’s story. ”It is a sad tale,” he finally says to break the silence. ”You have my sympathy for the fall you’ve had.”

”Thanks Edward. I really did love her. Ah well, if I keep talking about this I am going to get depressed.”

Taking the hint, Edward changes the topic. ”Tell me, what skills and talents do you possess? If we are to work together, we must know each other’s strengths and weaknesses. I myself have studied many topics, magic foremost among them. I can be convincing when I must, and have a wide variety of knowledge at my disposal.”

”Skills and talents? Well I love to talk so I have gotten quite good at it. I am not very knowledgeable in most fields, however I have found that my strength gets me through most situations that I can’t talk my way out of. I also have a very low option of any life and I will kill for pure pleasure. Once I cared about what others thought but lately I can’t say I do. Only so long a beast can play dress up.”

Dangerous, this one. Not controlled like Vyllaria, not ambitious like Semirhage. This man is a killer, plain and simple. Always good to have one of those, I suppose.
”One final question, if you will. Why did you accept Thorn’s contract?”

”Because he wants to tear down the old system. Sometimes I just want to sit back and watch something burn. That and he did save us from being killed so we do owe him something. We have never felt apart of something greater than ourselves. It is nice to have comrades even if they are forced. Friends are important when you live as long as we can. I am not that old and even I already know this. My father told me of the loneliness that I would feel once I have lost a love. My mother tried to stake him and nearly killed me after I was born; my first bath was in her blood. Sharing a goal and a purpose with others is a nice feeling. That is why we chose to accept the contract.”

Edward notices something strange in Mordekai’s speech. Odd, that ‘we’ seems out of place, yet I’m certain it wasn’t a slip - he did that once before. ”When you say ‘we chose’,” Edward inquires delicately, ”of whom do you speak?”
Is he working for another, or with outside help? This could be worrisome.

”We? You want to know who we are? Very well since we all are all friends here I will show you. Ready, Reaver?” Mordekai loses the spark of intelligence in his eyes, his muscles rapidly tense and relax making his motiotion jerky. It looks like a child unable to control a puppet. Final a voice rings out. The pitch if higher and comes out at a much faster speed. ”Ello, Wiz.” The body get up and start trying to dance. ”It has been a while since Mordy left me play puppet master. Mordy is always in control ever since we stole the body from him. He leads and I follow but sometimes I have my fun too. I want a hug.” The body flies across the room and gabs Edward. After a few painful seconds later Reaver finally lets go. He stands Edward up puts his hand on his shoulders and just laughs. ”Promised not to kill you, I did. BUBBLES!” Reaver starts making popping sounds with his mouth.

By the heavens… Edward is momentarily speechless. He blinks, then finds his voice. ”Greetings. You are… within Mordekai? What do I address you as?”

”Mordy calls me Reaver. He gave me my name, he did. Am I within? No not within, more beside or behind. We are similar but he came second and I third. Mordy is the puppet master but I help him pull the strings.” The body makes a mocking motion like it is playing the piano. Reaver start chanting a tune, somewhat in step with the motions. His voice sounds like it is mocking a child. Mimicking something it doesn’t understand.

”Fascinating. You say Mordekai is second, and you are third. Who was first, and are there more of you?”

The body stops playing the piano and the spark of intelligence returns to the eyes. The voice drops back down in pitch and the movements no longer look like a puppets. ”I will answer that.” says Mordekai. ”Reaver usually puts his own spin on the story and I would prefer something closer to the truth was heard. Our mother was human and she gave her son the name Colin. A couple of days after we were born she started hating us. Fearing that we were a monster. She also loved Father at some point but, well…. Anyways she tried to kill us but Father stopped her. I think that is when I was created. I my memories start with Colin’s but I don’t think I was here from the start, just a feeling. As time progressed Colin started to fear me and himself. He saw us as the monster that Mother did. One day at school we were sick, like normal child. There was a older child there and he starting beating Colin. He must have saw him as an easy target. We are only half-vampire so we aged relatively like the other human children. When Colin came home Father was so angry that he didn’t do anything but Colin said that violence wouldn’t solve anything. A couple of more days of beating later and then Father made his move. When Colin was sleeping he talked to me. Not Colin. I always thought that I was a tiny part of something incomplete, not whole. Something that shouldn’t be there because that is what Colin thought of me. Father sat down beside our bed and told me to protect him. Me, he wasn’t talking to Colin but me. It was then that I realized I had a right to be alive. I was worth something and I had a propose. Next day, the beat starts again and I started begging Colin to fight back. No he said. He just curled up into a ball and took it. I remeber the other kids just standing there laughing at us. We were still very young the other kids we like 9 years old at the time. Final the bully punched Colin head so hard that he blacked out. I called for him to move and that is when I moved his hand. I made a fist. if I could do that what else could I move? I moved his feet and stood up. The bully looked surprised and made a grand speak about how he was going to put us down. He came at us but I was stronger. Final the strength that I was given was put to use. One punch hit him and he screamed and I felt a blood lust like never before. I date this as the birth of Reaver. That fight and the enjoyment that I felt was like nothing that I have ever felt before. It was.. grand. I put the bully down and when I laid him out and looked into his eyes I saw fear. He was weak and put me down to feel strong. I made sure that everyone know how weak he was. That night Colin shut himself in his room and didn’t come out. Finally when he fell asleep Father came in and said Good job, Mordekai. I now had a name. Reaver evolved form that feeling of bloodlust and I eventually named him. As for others… hard to say. I think there are only three of us but who knows. Maybe other will come out in time. That explains our start but the story does continue. Would you like to hear more? We could talk about the ‘death’ of Colin.”

Edward is slightly relieved at Mordekai’s revelation that he has multiple personalities, rather than being possessed. ”If you would like to continue, please do.”

Mordekai starts to wander around the room. Moving seems to help him tell the story. ”Well, our aging quickly slowed down when we started becoming teenagers. As what little human friends we had began to age and grow up we were not. This created a deep depression within Colin. He stopped socializing and at some points even eating. This recessionof Colin was a good thing for me. As he pulled back and withdrew, I pushed forward and took control. I never fought him for control, that is an important point. I could only act when he stopped caring or let me. As what little human friends we had began to live out their lives and we seemed stuck, his depression grew into anger. He became mad at himself. He hated me and Reaver. Soon after that he began cutting himself or other various self harm techniques. However, as the son of my Father we still had to attend parties and other gatherings. Our friends’ weddings and eventually their children’s weddings were celebrated that we were expected at. Colin stayed home but I went out. Soon the nobles began to understand the difference between Mordekai and Colin. Colin would go at the beginning of the party and talk to no one. Those that did come over began asking him when I was going to show up. That was the final nail in Colin’s coffin. He was so mad one night that he finally tried to end it all but I stopped him. It was the first time that I fought him for control but I had help. Reaver was becoming quite the force and he? Actually, just as an aside, I have no idea what gender Reaver considers itself.” Mordekai stops moving and look like he is deep in thought. ”Apparently neither does Reaver and he doesn’t care so I will just refer to him as a he. Sorry, his thoughts sometimes pop into my head. Anyways, in the struggle for control I won. We then pushed Colin down deep, very deep. I don’t even know what he is thinking and I don’t care. He no longer has any control of the body that once belonged to him. Thus his death. I suppose that is a good summary of our life. I skipped a bunch of murders by both me and Colin. He became quite violent in his depression. That wasn’t only me. What about you Edward, what was your childhood like? I wish to know how you become a wizard. Where does your magic come from?”

”It comes from years of study. From learning patterns and rituals, from experimenting and practicing.” Edward talks almost automatically, his mind processing Mordekai’s story and its implications. ”I studied all sorts of things from a young age, and magic soon took priority. It was a direct link from knowledge to power.” Edward once again focuses his attention on the conversation, mental deliberations complete for now. ”It is a fascinating process, actually. Magical secrets have been discovered, by myself or others, and the precise methodology is inscribed magically in spellbooks, such as this one.” Edward gestures to the open book on his desk. ”The writing itself is magical, allowing it to truly convey the intricacies of wizardry beyond regular language. I follow the steps as I have done before, leaving but a trigger remaining. It takes significant time to fully cast a spell, you see. By preparing it ahead of time, all that remains is a final incantation, a gesture, and occasionally a material catalyst. The magical energies I have bound are released, and the spell is cast. Ripped from the cracks in the rules of the world. That’s where my magic originates.
“You’ve given me much to think upon. We will have to speak again, but I really must return to my work. Copying arcane writings is time-consuming, and I wish to have this completed before the day is finished.”
Edward rises, Archaeros returning to his shoulder once again. ”I thank you for your thoughtfulness with the food, and your candour. I look forward to working with you.”

”As I with you. Good day Edward and Archaeros.” Mordekai bows then the leaves the room taking the empty tray of food with him. He wonders if he revealed too much about himself. He was definitely more open than he was with the others but that might not be a bad thing. The others weren’t interested in him much anyways. The assassin was young and closed minded but she is a product of her people. Simer, well you need to prove yourself interesting before she will ask. Either way, Mordekai believes that he has found an ally in the wizard. His bird might take more time to win over though.


Male Tiefling Wizard 7 (HP: 33/44 | AC: 17 T:13 FF: 14 | F:+3 R:+5 W:+5 | Init +3 Per +9)
Effects:
Mage Armor (6 hours)

With a respectful nod, Edward retires to the room allotted him.

First Day:

For most of the first day Edward remains in his room, studying his new spellbook. There are many spells in it that he has not cast before, so he reads carefully through each page. Taking note of the previous owner’s notation, he weighs the value of their effects carefully. Many of the spells seem useful, and there are few that he had in his old spellbook.
Late in the morning, a knock on the door distracts Edward from his study. ”Come in,” he calls, recognizing Semirhage’s voice in the hall.

They speak of their crimes and history, and their ambitions. Edward finds that Semirhage is a passionate woman, filled with plans of vengeance and lust for power. He tries to impress on her that he can be trusted, and that the two of them should work together. Edward also pays Semirhage her share of the money that was taken from Branderscar prison.

Conversation Transcript

As the door closes, Edward replays the conversation in his mind, analyzing it while the words are still fresh in his mind. She is a fellow manipulator, that is clear. I think I gave her enough to allow her to trust me. She should see the similarities, yet not perceive me as a threat. Though she seems to forget that our allegiance is to Thorn before each other…

Later, once Edward is given his old spellbook by Tiadora, he requests some magical ink. He plans to copy the spells between the two books, allowing him to use the new, fancy one as a backup.

Second Day:

The second day, Edward leaves his room, looking for the mansion’s library. While on his hunt, he catches a glimpse of four people he does not recognize, not dressed in the livery of servants. Tiadora’s presence is unexpected, as is her reaction of shooing Edward away. With a whisper, Edward asks Archaeros to carefully take a look around and see what is happening.

Stealth: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (15) + 18 = 33
Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29

As the tiny thrush flies away, Edward continues his hunt for the library. Once he finds it, he searches for books on Asmodeus, the history of the Asmodean church in Talingarde, and magic. He is paging through a lengthy volume when Vyllaria opens the library’s door and slips in.

The conversation with Vyllaria does not go quite as well as the one with Semirhage. She seems less willing to share information, and seems to have a deep distrust of magic. Edward takes the aggressive questioning of Vyllaria in stride, and adopts a gracious posture in an attempt to gain trust. Rather than attempting to impress her, he realizes that Vyllaria is proud of her own skills, and praises them. He suggests that working as a team will allow them to be more effective, and makes sure to give Vyllaria her full share of the money from the Branderscar escape. Above all else, in his conversation he tries to impress upon her that he is trustworthy.

Conversation Transcript

After Vyllaria leaves, her book still clutched in her hand, Edward thinks back. She is a professional, proud in her abilities and with a strange hatred of magic. Full of secrets, she is. I wonder…

Edward puts aside his book and hunts quickly through the library for a book detailing dark-skinned, white-haired elves. Her colouring is curious. While I know elves sometimes adapt to their surroundings, I have never seen one adjust to that magnitude. For that matter, where would she come from, to look like that?

Let me know if I find anything about Drow. If you want a skill check of some sort, just ask.

The rest of the day is spent in the library, as Edward is quickly absorbed into his reading. He barely remembers to break for food, mostly due to Archaeros’s return. I presume he does return.

Final Day:

Edward wakes early, and after quick ablutions begins preparing to copy spells between his spellbooks. He is in the process of readying the magical ink Tiadora supplied him when a knock sounds at the door. It seems today Mordekai wishes to speak with Edward, and Edward is glad to oblige.

Their conversation begins pleasant enough, and Edward introduces Archaeros to Mordekai. With niceties out of the way, Mordekai bluntly changes topics to a promise not to kill Edward. The discussion only becomes stranger after that. They share information of their crimes, which confirms Edwards’s suspicion that Mordekai is a killer. The most startling twist is when Mordekai reveals he has multiple personalities. While the Mordekai personality is dominant, there is a second personality named ‘Reaver’, who seems quite unstable. There is yet another revelation when Mordekai explains that he was not always the dominant personality, but arose during childhood. Asked about his own childhood and his study of magic, Edward gives a simple answer about the power of magic and study, and explains how his magic works. Edward ends the conversation with the excuse of needing to start copying his spellbooks, but also because he needs some more time to process the information.

Conversation Transcript

Mordekai seems very open, sharing the amount that he did. Honest too. Balancing out that fact, he shows little true remorse over the men he has killed. I think he can be a very useful tool. With the trust we seem to have developed, I have little worry about him betraying me. He is not secretive like the others, and Mordekai seems to be solidly in control of his actions. I have a feeling we will get along nicely.

Edward shifts his focus to his spellbooks, laboriously copying the magical instructions. Over the next twelve hours, he manages to complete his task. Calling for a quick meal once he finishes, he goes to bed feeling ready for the trials to come.


Fallen Ainur Ex-Angel 15/ Evil Overlord 20

Vallyria:

You manage to catch a glimpse of three humans and a half-elf who are staying in another wing.
When you try to approach, Tiadora stops you, stating that ”This wing is off limits. Please return to your wing.” From what you did see before Tiadora barred your path, you can tell that the four are similarly equipped as your party.
Later, when you attempt to go down a flight of stairs beneath the wine cellar, Tiadora appears again, repeating her command to leave the area, this time adding ”It is not time yet.”
You return to your room, thwarted and frustrated.

Edward:

Archaeros returns on the third day, with no memory except waking half a day’s flight from the manor. This is very disturbing, and the pair of you feel violated.

The fourth day dawns without much fanfare. It is only after supper that the four of you are met with a summons to Cardinal Thorn’s chambers. As you enter the room, you find him silhouetted at the window, edged in the light of the setting sun, drinking from a silver goblet. As you approach, he turns around, a smooth smile stretching across his face.

“Have you enjoyed your gifts? The iron circlets allow you to move amongst your enemies as one of them. The silver amulets will remind you of your true loyalties. And the other items – well, you need them now.

“You have done well to escape from Branderscar and to accept my offer. However, you are still not ready for my service. Tiadora will lead you to the basement of this domicile. There you will find nine chambers each more dangerous than the last. Somewhere hidden within these chambers is a pendant of silver and sapphire. Recover the pendant and bring it to me. Let nothing and no one stand in your way.”

The graying Cardinal looks out of the manor house window and across the grey moor. “It’s almost dusk. You have until dusk tomorrow to bring me my prize. Do not fail me.”

Cardinal Thorn takes a seat at his desk. Tiadora arrives right on cue. “This way,” is all she says.

Tiadora leads you through the house and down to the wine cellar, to a set of stairs. “Below you will find the Nine Lessons.” She leaves without any further explanation.


Male Tiefling Wizard 7 (HP: 33/44 | AC: 17 T:13 FF: 14 | F:+3 R:+5 W:+5 | Init +3 Per +9)
Effects:
Mage Armor (6 hours)

Edward glances around at his allies and tilts his head towards the stairs. "Shall we proceed?" He waits until the others go, and follows last.


Male Dampir (Moroi-Born) 7 Antipaladin (HP: 60/60 | AC: 21+3=24 (23 if Shield) FF: 20 (22) T: 11 | F:+10 R:+7 W:+10 | Init:+1)
Auras:
Cowardice

Mordkeai notices Edward's reluctance to go down the stairs. "Edward, what is the matter? Don't want to go first?" Mordekai draws his shield and longsword and starts awaking down the stairs. "Only 9 right? How hard can it be?"

"Dibs on going first! We called it, not that anyone else can here me. I suddenly feel very alone."


Female Aasimar Sorcerer 1 | Oracle 1 | Mystic Theurge 4 (HP: 35/40 | AC:23 T:16 FF:17 | F:+6 R:+9 W:+7 | Init +8 Per +13)
Effects:
None

Semirhage grins at the challenges ahead, "Don't run ahead and steal all the fun Mordekai!. She follows closely behind Mordekai with the words of a Bane spell upon her lips and her dark-vision piercing the gloom below.

Semirhage is readying to cast Bane should she detect any movement or enemies at the bottom of the stairs. The DC of her Bane is 20 vs Will.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22


Male Tiefling Wizard 7 (HP: 33/44 | AC: 17 T:13 FF: 14 | F:+3 R:+5 W:+5 | Init +3 Per +9)
Effects:
Mage Armor (6 hours)

As the first two gleefully delve into the Nine Lessons, Edward nods at Vyllaria. "I doubt this will be as pleasant as those two seem to anticipate. You seem considerably more... stable than they are. Let's try to keep them from doing anything foolish, hm?"


Female Drow Ninja 6, (HP: 51 | AC:21 T:15 FF:16 | F:+5 R:+11 W:+4 | SR:12 | Init +5 Per +13 | Ki: 3/5)
Bonus:
+2 saves vs. Enchantments. Immunity to sleep.

Vyllaria nods in acknowledgement."I heartily agree," she says, then she proceeds down the stairs following the others before they get out of sight. She draws one of her twin swords, and keeps a wary eye open to her surroundings as she goes.

perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20 vs. traps: 20 + 1 = 21


Male Dampir (Moroi-Born) 7 Antipaladin (HP: 60/60 | AC: 21+3=24 (23 if Shield) FF: 20 (22) T: 11 | F:+10 R:+7 W:+10 | Init:+1)
Auras:
Cowardice

Mordekai leans back and wishers to Semirhage.
"I have the sudden urge to trip the Wizard and then we will see who is stable. Ah, let him moan. He is just scared of the dark because he can't see in it." Mordekai chuckles. "By the way, how much do you want to bet that the other 4 are also done here. I am guessing that trail number 9 is to kill them. Did you get a good look at them?"
He keeps going down the stairs, shield at the ready.

Perception: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 = 4
Might as well roll too even though this is one of the few characters that I have played that doesn't have perception. Everyone else has it so we will be fine.


Male Tiefling Wizard 7 (HP: 33/44 | AC: 17 T:13 FF: 14 | F:+3 R:+5 W:+5 | Init +3 Per +9)
Effects:
Mage Armor (6 hours)

The plan was to say that after the two of you were out of earshot...

Edward steps down last, taking a look around as he does so. What's the lighting like? I'm the only one without darkvision, so I need to know if I should pull out a torch.


Female Drow Ninja 6, (HP: 51 | AC:21 T:15 FF:16 | F:+5 R:+11 W:+4 | SR:12 | Init +5 Per +13 | Ki: 3/5)
Bonus:
+2 saves vs. Enchantments. Immunity to sleep.

Overhearing Mordekai's remark Vyllaria replies, "I don't think Thorn would try to have us killed so early in our contract. It makes little sense, he stands to gain nothing from doing so when we already represent a significant investment. Though I admit I have the same suspicions about what awaits us further below. Unfortunately I can tell you little about the other guests Thorn currently entertains. I saw them only from a distance and did not get a very good look at them. If I had to take a wager, I'd say Thorn fancies he might pit us against out equals, but I have yet to meet anyone who could challenge me so..."

"...I make a point of removing them," she adds, under her breath, so that only she can hear. With that she allows her mind to ponder what possible scenarios Thorn will have prepared for them.

@Edward, You are not the only one lacking Darkvision. I had to trade that away so I wouldn't be constantly blinded outdoors.


Fallen Ainur Ex-Angel 15/ Evil Overlord 20

A set of stone stairs leads down, through an archway and into an unfurnished chamber beyond. Inscribed upon the archway in the common tongue is: “Deception is a tool. Self-deception is death. Deceive always thy enemy but never thyself.” The room beyond is lit by a small oil lantern hanging from the center of the chamber.
There is a doorway on the east wall.

Perception DC 20:

There are three important things to note in this room.

Firstly, in front of the doorway is a spiked pit trap.

Secondly, a secret door hidden in the north wall conceals a small niche.

Inside that niche is a small pedestal that holds a jewel that glows with pale blue light. It is cold to the touch.
There is another inscription: “Thou hast seen through deception to uncover a useful tool.”

And finally:
The south wall also conceals a secret door. This door leads to a passage to the next chamber.

Basically, I want to see if Morty sets off the trap. Vallyria and Semirhage have already passed their checks.


Female Aasimar Sorcerer 1 | Oracle 1 | Mystic Theurge 4 (HP: 35/40 | AC:23 T:16 FF:17 | F:+6 R:+9 W:+7 | Init +8 Per +13)
Effects:
None

Semirhage flinches as she sees a pit trap at the base of the stairs, "Careful Mordekai!" she quickly stammers, "trap at the bottom of the stairs, do you see the pitfall?"

Looking over her shoulder she calls to Vyllaria, "Pit trap ahead, do you know how to dismantle it, Vyllaria?"


Male Dampir (Moroi-Born) 7 Antipaladin (HP: 60/60 | AC: 21+3=24 (23 if Shield) FF: 20 (22) T: 11 | F:+10 R:+7 W:+10 | Init:+1)
Auras:
Cowardice

Mordekai stops and doesn't walk to the bottom of the stairs. "Much thanks, Semirhage. This is why friends are so great to have. We cover each other's weakness. What else do you see that
I have missed."

Nice try GM, we aren't going to let each other get hurt. I am not even going to bother rolling in the future. Since I can't make a perception check I will wait for someone else to solve the room. I won't cheat in the future. My bad.


Male Tiefling Wizard 7 (HP: 33/44 | AC: 17 T:13 FF: 14 | F:+3 R:+5 W:+5 | Init +3 Per +9)
Effects:
Mage Armor (6 hours)

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

"'Deception is a tool.' I wonder..."
Edward casts a quick detect magic spell under his breath, then focuses on the trap.
Round 1: Any magic auras there? Presence or lack only.


Thrush Familiar (HP: 17/17 | AC:19 T:16 FF:17 | F:+0 R:+4 W:+7 | Init +2 Per +14)

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13

Archaeros flies over the trap and lands on the oil lantern to get a different view of the danger.


Female Drow Ninja 6, (HP: 51 | AC:21 T:15 FF:16 | F:+5 R:+11 W:+4 | SR:12 | Init +5 Per +13 | Ki: 3/5)
Bonus:
+2 saves vs. Enchantments. Immunity to sleep.

Vyllaria pats Mordekai on the shoulder and takes the opportunity to make a witty remark. "Well for one thing, your shoes are untied,"Bluff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26 With that she sidesteps the Damphir and makes her way around the spiked pit and into the room.
Acrobatics: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20 Unsure of dimensions of pit. Rolled acro to avoid falling in if necessary.

Assuming Vyllaria makes it around the trap...
Stepping into the chamber Vyllaria heads towards the hidden alcove she spotted from the doorway. Sliding the loose paneling away she uncovers a niche, wherein a glowing blue jewel rests atop a small pedestil. "Edward," she calls out, "I think you should come take a look at this."

She immediately begins searching the pedestil for signs of any triggers that might be activated by removing the gem. As she does, she notices the engraving on the base of the pedestil: "Thou hast seen through deception to uncover a useful tool." She remains wary not to disturb the gem for the moment.
Perception: 1d20 + 7 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 7 + 1 = 17


Fallen Ainur Ex-Angel 15/ Evil Overlord 20

I may have been unclear. The room is a thirty by thirty foot square, with a door on the east wall (I apologize, I was reading something else while writing that, and didn't look at the map to confirm.). The trap is directly in front of the door, the idea being that anyone who opens it will fall into the pit (because the door doesn't actually open). There is no need to go around the trap. Man, I should have thought of this earlier. Well, I'll have plenty of tries. At least eight more. MwuahahAHAHAHAHAAAA!

Now, to finish the room and move on to the next. (The south secret door leads to the next room.) The Appraise check is to identify the gem found in the secret alcove.

The next room is also 30x30.

Appraise DC 15:

This ‘jewel’ is a cleverly crafted bit of sealed quartz. Inside the quartz is alchemist’s ice. If thrown the jewel breaks and explodes exactly as alchemist’s fire but instead inflicts cold damage.

The short passage from the north ends in a wooden door with another inscription: “Following the herd is for fools. Fear not their icy derision. Instead, fear only thy Infernal Lord.”
Inside the stone chamber, there are four doors – each facing a cardinal direction. The entire chamber seems strangely cold. The ground is dirty and dusty. No one seems to have approached the western door. This room is also lit with a small oil lantern that hangs from the ceiling. There is a small amount of frost on the lantern’s glass panes. The eastern and southern doors are plain wooden doors.

Perception DC 10:

At least a dozen individuals have walked to the south and east doors.


Survival DC 10:

At least a dozen individuals have walked to the south and east doors.

The western door is covered in a strange pulsating violet mold.

K(Dungeoneering) DC 15:

This mold feeds on warmth and is the source of the strange temperature drop. Fire brought close to the mold causes it to instantly double in size, growing out into the room, expanding its zone of effect. Cold damage of any sort will destroy it.

This one requires another perception check.

Perception DC 20:

The two wooden doors look like they are trapped.


Male Tiefling Wizard 7 (HP: 33/44 | AC: 17 T:13 FF: 14 | F:+3 R:+5 W:+5 | Init +3 Per +9)
Effects:
Mage Armor (6 hours)

Edward walks over to the archway where Vyllaria is standing, ignoring the door with the trap.

Appraise: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
"I think the gem is safe enough to remove. It's a worthless gemstone, but it looks like it contains alchemist's ice. If you throw this at something, the outer crystal will break and a freezing blast will erupt."
He plucks it from its stand and places it in a pouch at his waist.

Perception 1: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

Survival: 1d20 ⇒ 6

Untrained in K(Dungeoneering), so I can't make that check.

Perception 2: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

As Edward walks into the next room, he notes the inscription over the door. Quickly putting two and two together when he sees the area, he comments,
"Well, this seems plain enough. Anyone know what the mold is? If we are to not 'follow the herd', we should try that door."

"Besides," he continues as he walks over to the east and south doors, confirming his niggling suspicion, "these other two seem to be trapped."


Female Drow Ninja 6, (HP: 51 | AC:21 T:15 FF:16 | F:+5 R:+11 W:+4 | SR:12 | Init +5 Per +13 | Ki: 3/5)
Bonus:
+2 saves vs. Enchantments. Immunity to sleep.

Bunch o' rolls...
perception 1: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12
survival: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
Also can't make K(dungeoneering). Don't worry, its probably an identification check, which means its probably trying to kill us.
perception 2: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

Vyllaria spots the cryptic message on the archway. Well that's maddeningly unhelpful. I see three doors and one of them is covered in glowing fungus. Probably don't want to touch that. Still...

She can identify that at least a dozen people have passed through this room previously. It seems Thorn has a bit of a hobby, capturing adventurers and forcing them to run his own private gauntlet. He certainly has a sick sense of humour, though I'd probably do the same thing if I was bored and had an excess of wealth and power... However that train of thought isn't getting me anywhere. Edward has the right of it, we must try the western door.

"Perhaps if I had spent my youth studying magical fungi I might have an answer for you, Edward," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Sadly, I did not. And yet through the moss infested door it seems we must go."

She stops to ponder how best to proceed, then she remembers the lantern. "Does anyone have a jar of oil, or perhaps a flask of alchemist's fire? I have half a mind to burn the moss off the door and be done with it."


Female Aasimar Sorcerer 1 | Oracle 1 | Mystic Theurge 4 (HP: 35/40 | AC:23 T:16 FF:17 | F:+6 R:+9 W:+7 | Init +8 Per +13)
Effects:
None

Semirhage ponders aloud, "An ice crystal which is supposed to be a useful tool? I can hardly see any use for that when I could simply burn the mold to the ground."

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24
Survival: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

Semirhage considers Edward's theory, and finds it sound. "Yes, Edward, I agree it is through this door we must proceed, but what of the admonition to not fear the cold? The two must be connected. I would be wary to bring heat to this room, so why not 'fight fire with fire' as the say?" Semirhage giggles at her own joke and says to Edward, "Let us see if our new-found tool will be of any use against that fungus before I try to roast it."


Male Tiefling Wizard 7 (HP: 33/44 | AC: 17 T:13 FF: 14 | F:+3 R:+5 W:+5 | Init +3 Per +9)
Effects:
Mage Armor (6 hours)

Edward reaches into his pouch and holds up the crystal, eyeing it once again. "Perhaps... though it can only be used once. Perhaps we can simply scrape the mold off of the door, and save the alchemist's ice for later?"


Female Aasimar Sorcerer 1 | Oracle 1 | Mystic Theurge 4 (HP: 35/40 | AC:23 T:16 FF:17 | F:+6 R:+9 W:+7 | Init +8 Per +13)
Effects:
None

Semirhage nods, "An excellent suggestion, allow me to give an attempt."

Semirhage studies the mold and how it is growing along the door.

Trying to gain insight into how the mold is attached to the door:
Kn(Dungeoneering): 1d20 ⇒ 8

Semirhage draws her longspear and attempts to hack away the mold from the door at its base.

Standing 10 feet from the mold.
Attack: 1d20 ⇒ 16
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 6

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