Grommuk heaves his javelin at one of the goons raining a hail of crossbow bolts down on him. He is sad to see that the javelin shrinks down to normal size as he releases it, only to clatter harmlessly off of the fallen siege tower nowhere near to where the amateur arbalist maintains his perch. Growling at the situation, Grommuk approaches the door of the central tower with rumbling footsteps, ready to take out his anger on the door ahead of him.
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>
>>
Cladissa hustles to get close, so she can assist Grommuk.
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Double move to U14.
Hrimnagel targets the tower guard again, but his arrow deflects off the battlement. He then moves around the rock to follow Gromm and Cladissa.
The guards fire at Grommuk again after seeing what the giant did to their beloved mascot Marrow Chomper. Hrimnagel is also a tempting target, but the boulder is providing him cover. Again, the panic setting in to the unprofessional War Hounders takes its toll. They both miss even the massive form of Grommuk, though he makes no attempt to conceal himself.
Argor withdraws another scroll from the cases at his hip, and recites the magic from its surface. A bolt of red energy surges towards the unwounded guard. It strikes him unerringly, and he cries out.
Grommuk heaves his javelin at one of the goons raining a hail of crossbow bolts down on him. He is sad to see that the javelin shrinks down to normal size as he releases it, only to clatter harmlessly off of the fallen siege tower nowhere near to where the amateur arbalist maintains his perch. Growling at the situation, Grommuk approaches the door of the central tower with rumbling footsteps, ready to take out his anger on the door ahead of him.
Cladissa hustles to get close, so she can assist Grommuk.
Hrimnagel targets the tower guard again, but his arrow deflects off the battlement. He then moves around the rock to follow Gromm and Cladissa.
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A man holding a longbow emerges onto the higher platform. His form is blurry and indistinct, clearly under the effects of some kind of magic. He leans over the edge and launches an arrow at Grommuk. The arrow pierces the chainmail on Grommuk's chest, going into his muscle over an inch deep.
No longer able to see Grommuk, the one of the tower dogs fires his crossbows at Hrimnagel and the other at Argor. Both shots miss badly.
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Hit
Miss
Miss
"Grommuk!" Argor calls out, "Get the door open!"
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Seeing the chance to get inside, Argor rushes forward and into the structure itself, hopefully eliminating the risk of any well aimed arrow penetrating his magical defenses. He moves to the left to make way for the others to enter as well.
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Sighing as he sees it's not going to be as easy as he had hoped to get inside, Argor retrieves the wand at his side, then moves up to and places his back against one of the walls near the doorway.
Cladissa moves forward and throws open the door if she is able to open it. If not, she'll call out to Grommuk, The door's barred! Can you break it down?
Grommuk growls at Nessian's form on the ledge above, and begins howling fury as his forearms rain blows against the door.
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>>
As Grommuk bashes the door, she looks inside (if possible) for any enemies she could hex.
Hrimnagel hustles to the tower wall and targets any archer who can see. His shot doesn't reach the height.
A man holding a longbow emerges onto the higher platform. His form is blurry and indistinct, clearly under the effects of some kind of magic. He leans over the edge and launches an arrow at Grommuk. The arrow pierces the chainmail on Grommuk's chest, going into his muscle over an inch deep.
No longer able to see Grommuk, the one of the tower dogs fires his crossbows at Hrimnagel and the other at Argor. Both shots miss badly.
"Grommuk!" Argor calls out, [/b]"Get the door open!"[/b]
Grommuk growls at Nessian's form on the ledge above, and begins howling fury as his forearms rain blows against the door. Within seconds he has smashed the wooden door into tinder, leaving the doorway to the tower open. There is at least one War Hounder waiting inside the door to stop anyone from getting in.
Seeing the waiting thugs, Argor rushes forward and puts his back to the wall, waiting for someone to clear the way so he can enter the tower.
Cladissa sees the thug waiting inside the door and glares at him menacingly. Her eye flashes with ill intent and the man is suddenly struck with a bout of uncontrollable shaking.
Hrimnagel hustles to the tower wall and targets any archer who can see. His shot doesn't reach the height.
--------------------------------
Nessian leans over his perch and fires another arrow at the juggernaut assaulting his fortress. The gang leader's aim is good, and he sinks the shaft into Grommuk again. The fifteen foot tall orc has shoulders as wide as a cart bed, and arrow impacts the right one. It tunnels through his trapezius, under his clavicle and between his first and second rib to rip a wide gash in the top of his right lung. As his lung fills with blood Grommuk coughs reflexively, spraying red mist all over his chin, and the front of the building. Nessian retreats into the building after firing his arrow.
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Argor activates the wand once again on Grommuk, the dark magics within slowly binding together the orcs wounds.
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Hrimnagel blocks his eyes when he gets sprayed with Grommuk's blood. He returns the shot at Nessian. The arrow buries into his shoulder in sympathetic karma.
Cladissa reloads her crossbow quickly and fires off a shot at the one she can see.
_____________
Nessian leans over his perch and fires another arrow at the juggernaut assaulting his fortress. The gang leader's aim is good, and he sinks the shaft into Grommuk again. The fifteen foot tall orc has shoulders as wide as a cart bed, and arrow impacts the right one. It tunnels through his trapezius, under his clavicle and between his first and second rib to rip a wide gash in the top of his right lung. As his lung fills with blood Grommuk coughs reflexively, spraying red mist all over his chin, and the front of the building. Nessian retreats into the building after firing his arrow.
Argor activates the wand once again on Grommuk, the dark magics within slowly binding together the orc's wounds.
Hrimnagel blocks his eyes when he gets sprayed with Grommuk's blood. He takes a shot at one of the War Hounders in the doorway. The arrow buries into his shoulder in sympathetic karma.
Cladissa reloads her crossbow quickly and fires off a shot at the one she can see. The bolt hits the doorframe and misses.
Grommuk steps forward and punches one massive fist through the doorway, trying to smash one of the war hounders. He howls in rage as his fist connects with nothing but air.
--------------------------------
Nessian moves to the base of the spiral stairs inside the tower, he's swinging a flail and pulling a shield off of his back. "What the f%*+ are you waiting for curs!? ATTACK!!" he screams insanely at the War Hounders.
Driven on by their mad leader, the two War Hounders step up to the doorway. The one in the lead swings his spiked, gauntleted fist at Argor. The wizard's magical armor protects him well though, and the thug's blow does no damage. The other War Hounders appear around the edges of the siege towers, barking and growling like mad dogs.
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Argor smirks as the brute's spiked fist recoils from his magical shielding. That is when he realizes, they are surrounded. With a flick of his finger, an arrow shaped bolt of acid flies into the face of his attacker, who ineffectually swings trying to disrupt the Argor's minor spell.
"Enough of this!" he says, as he draws a scroll from his hip.
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Hrimnagel feels the war hounder behind him. He steps back and shoots an arrow that clips his leg.
Hrimnagel, please try to keep them off me. This spell takes a while to cast, Cladissa implores, while simultaneously stepping to keep the gnome between her and the enemy coming up on the right. Then she starts weaving her hands in complex gestures while producing a live cricket.
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Nessian moves to the base of the spiral stairs inside the tower, he's swinging a flail and pulling a shield off of his back. "What the f~$@ are you waiting for curs!? ATTACK!!" he screams insanely at the War Hounders.
Driven on by their mad leader, the two War Hounders step up to the doorway. The one in the lead swings his spiked, gauntleted fist at Argor. The wizard's magical armor protects him well though, and the thug's blow does no damage. The other War Hounders appear around the edges of the siege towers, barking and growling like mad dogs.
Grommuk roars in his gigantic voice, punching the War Hounder blocking his way into the tower and to Nessian. The man explodes as a fist the size of his torso punches straight through him and into the front of the tower, destroying one of the leather wrapped wooden plates protecting the former siege engine. The War Hounders head goes flying to bounce off the tower and ricochet into Argor's leg before it tumbles to the ground. The deader's legs, now topped only by a severed length of spine and a pile of collapsing innards slump to the ground. The War Hounder in the doorway pisses his breeches, and turns an interesting shade of white under the layer of his friend's blood now coating him.
Argor smirks as the brute's whose spiked fist recoiled from his magical shielding is obliterated. That is until he realizes that they are surrounded. With a flick of his finger, an arrow shaped bolt of acid flies into the face of the War Hounder creeping up on Hrimnagel. The thug already has one of Hrimnagel's arrows sticking out of his shoulder. The acidic arrow melts half the man's face, fusing his eyebrow, eyelids and cheek into one bubbling mass of dripping flesh. The man screams in horrible pain, clutching at his head and twitching about wildly. "Enough of this!" Argor says, as he draws a scroll from his hip.
Hrimnagel hears and sees the War Hounder behind him thrashing in pain. He steps back and shoots an arrow into the man's unruined eye. The thug's screaming stops as he falls over backwards, dead.
"Hrimnagel, please try to keep them off me. This spell takes a while to cast," Cladissa implores. Then she starts weaving her hands in complex gestures while producing a live cricket from a pocket in her clothes. She begins chanting a soft lullaby-like spell.
--------------------------------
Nessian steps up behind the urine and blood soaked War Hounder in the doorway and roughly shoves his shoulder. "ATTACK YOU YELLOW BELLIED B$&#!!" he screams in the man's ear. The War Hounder, presented with insanity to both front and back, screams wordlessly as he steps forward to punch Grommuk with his spiked gauntlet. The height is just right that the man's iron clad fist impacts solidly with Grommuk's genitals, producing a sickening wet crunch. The huge orc coughs, then roars sending another rivulet of blood and saliva streaming down his chin onto his chest.
The other two War Hounders see the carnage being worked on their gang brothers and blanch. They look completely terrified as they turn to sprint away from the Pyramid of the Dog as fast as they can .
Grommuk reaches down and grabs War Hounder who just pummeled his junk's head in both hands. The giant brawler lifts him off the ground, and drives a knee up into his crotch so hard that the man's pelvic bone structure and hips tear free from his legs and into his abdominal cavity. There is a muffled scream and a pop as the man's spinal column erupts out of his back like a tower of children's blocks falling to the floor. The man, is now a foot shorter, and his middrift is a red lumpy mess. Grommuk tosses the dead man over his shoulder like a rag doll.
________________________________
Cladissa tries to block out the carnage occurring around her and focuses on her spell. When the buildup of magical energy is at its peak, she looks around for the largest grouping of enemies and sees that only Nessian remains, about to close with Grommuk. The orc is sporting his usual assortment of near-mortal wounds yet continues to fight unabated.
Stepping directly behind Grommuk, she releases the cloud of soporific energy centered on Nessian, filling the base of the tower.
Hrimnagel sees Grommuk staggered and refuses to let him drop. He darts between his legs and through the doorway. "Gromm, take a breather. Hey Nessian, your dogs are down!"
Seeing the sudden change in their situation, Argor pockets the scroll and calls out as he runs up the stair, "I'll send out the cancel signal, finish off this nuisance!"
__________
Nessian falls asleep from Cladissa's spell.
Grommuk steps into the tower, and stomps on the sleeping gang leader's head, smashing it like a watermelon. The orc reels for a few more seconds, but the regenerative magic continues to work on him and soon his worst wounds are closing.
Argor rushes up the stairs to search for the book. The upper-level of the central siege tower is littered with the various-sized colored lanterns that Nessian has procured to trigger the Silent Tide. There are a wooden desk and a chair. The codebook is hidden inside the workshop desk. A wide opening leads to a siege tower bridge, once used for traversing enemy walls. The bridge extends to the south and is 10 feet long. It's from the bridge that Nessian was shooting arrows down on Grommuk. The broken bridge provides a clear view of the nearby sea, and the bay of Absalom's harbor. As Argor frantically searches through the book he finds the abort code on the last page. As the others pile into the room and Yargos comes sprinting down the beach outside, they can all see a series of rotten, barnacle encrusted masts break the surface of the waves like the fins of so many aberrant sharks. The masts quickly rise higher above the water as they plow towards the Pathfinders, and the city. Argor quickly chants the incantation for his dancing lights cantrip, and waving his hands calls into existence the four blinking red lights of the abort code.
As the lights flash the correct pattern, the top rigging of the ancient Taldan ships erupt from the surf. The ships' riggings are thick with skeletal, undead sailors, who cling to the ropes and wooden beams like demonic, falcata-wielding monkeys. As the abort signal is recognized by the powerful magic responsible for the Silent Tide, the Taldan attack fleet loses its forward momentum. The masts quickly lose height and flounder as the skeletal sailors fall apart before the Pathfinder's eyes. The sailors' bones plunk into the water like a storm of hail as the masts list and fall to the sides. The ancient ships sink back below the waves, and within moments it's as if they were never even there.
Yargos shouts in joy and jumps in the air down on the beach. When he lands he falters, and clutches his hip, groaning in pain. "You did it! God bless you Pathfinders!" he cries up to the four freaks standing on the broken siege tower's bridge.
Hrimnagel watches Grommuk pop Nessian's head with a shrug. Then, in a few minutes watches the undead invasion with saucer-like eyes and smiles when they disappear.
After the brief celebration, Hrimnagel suggests that they escort Yargos and the codebook to the Pathfinders headquarters and take the day off. He asks if anyone has ever heard of swarma. He saw a restaurant serving it a couple blocks from their new home and wanted to try it.
Cladissa winces when Grommuk executes Nessian and turns away. She follows Argor up the steps and wrings her hands as he studies the code book. She pales when she sees the undead naval fleet begin to rise out of the bay.
When Argor signals the proper code, she sighs in giddy relief. The respite is so welcome that she simply embraces the joy of being alive and leaves her doubts and concerns for another day.
At Hrimnagel's suggestion, she realizes she is famished. I don't think I've had it before, but I'll be happy to try. Right now, I think anything would taste great.
She scoops up Cole and carries him out of the Puddles and toward home.
As the mighty undead armada sinks beneath the waves, Argor smirks to himself. He looks over to Cladissa and says jokingly, "I doubt the mighty Aram Zey can say that he bested an entire army with a simple cantrip, could he?"
At Hrimnagel's suggestion, he says, "I, personally, am not hungry. However, I would like the opportunity to study this book, even if for just a moment, before it becomes lost in the library of the Great Hall, another time to become forgotten. I think our efforts in this deserve at least that much. I will meet you all back at the manor. Yargos, you are welcome to accompany me or join them for a meal, whichever you prefer."
Cladissa affords Argor a smile at his boastful joke. No, he can't.
She later looks a bit crestfallen when the wizard declines eating with them. Okay, I guess. See you at the house, then.
About midway through their meal, she starts fidgeting a bit and alternately feels hot and cold. As the events of the past two days catch up to her, it is all she can do to keep from falling asleep in her shwarma. She stands up on her toes and sways a bit, leaving half of her meal unfinished. I think I'm going to go back now and rest, she announces. Thankful Hrimnagel picked a place close to their new home, she unsteadily makes her way back to the manor, finds her room and curls up in her bed, shivering and shaking.
The walk back to the Foreign District is relatively quick and uneventful, though by the time they get back it's mid morning.
The restaurant Hrimnagel saw is right around the corner from the Pathfinder's villa. It's a small hole in the wall type place called Singh's Shawarma. The general decor is Vudran in style, with lots of colored paint, small statues of gods and goddesses and plants decorating the restaurant. They only have seating for around twenty people, and there is only one dish on the menu. The shawarma is succulent and delicious. The Pathfinders can watch the dark skinned, turban wearing, kitchen workers preparing their meal through the open wall into the kitchen. The main feature of the kitchen is a large magically animated spit, with a large chunk of the shawarma meat constantly rotating on it.
Yargos gladly accompanies the Pathfinders to their impromptu breakfast. He was kidnapped during dinner the previous night, and at his age and weight he isn't used to pulling all night adventures or to any excitement really. He finishes three plates of shawarma, babbling the whole time about how awesome the Pathfinders are and how he can't believe they are alive. As they finish their meal he says, "Well, I cannot thank you enough. You have made a friend in Yargos Gill if you ever have need of someone in the Puddles. Good day my friends, may all the gods continue to bless you with good fortune and courage." The old man shakes each of their hands enthusiastically, before departing, waving several times over his shoulder as he goes.
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Okay, it appears the ooc tag no longer works. Great. In the meantime lets just mark OOC text by separating it off to the bottom of our posts under a line of underscores.
Hrimnagel says his good-byes to Yargos and returns to the manor not stopping until he collapses on his bedroll spread on his new bed. Zzzzzz
After scanning the book for several minutes, Argor quickly surmises that it is of little value to historical records aside from providing a unique insight into the military mind of the ancient Taldor war machine.
Rather than waste more time on this matter, he closes the book and slides it aside, then begins looking for some paper and ink to write up a report to return to the Pathfinders. He quickly remembers that their new abode had not been properly stocked, and he sighs to himself frustratedly.
He then gathers up the codebook and walks to the Lodge himself, and seeks out Venture Captain Hestram to make a verbal report. Once he is admitted, he nods his head slightly to the man and then hands him the book they wasted their entire night on.
"Yargos is alive and well, and we recovered that book. It had been taken by a man named Nessian and his group of thugs who were overly fond of mimicking dogs. They had uncovered the hidden potential that the book held: the ability to summon up a secret Taldan invasion force that never was able to launch it's attack. The fleet had been sunk in the harbor, but some sort of magic oath bound them to fulfill their mission should the signal ever be given."
Argor yawns, fighting back the lack of sleep, and continues, "Nessian figured out the code, and used signal lanterns to begin the various attack plans the Taldan warmongers had prepared, but instead of soldiers, it was their undead remains that were undertaking their missions. Fortunately, we were able to put an end to their assault before the fleet could do any real harm to the city. Though, you may want to make sure someone makes their way to the Metro-Cathedral. The final signal Nessian sent out was to strike that temple and stop their morning music ritual, which it would appear they succeeded at."
Another yawn escapes the mage, and he concludes, "Is there anything else, Venture Captain? We have been at this all night, and frankly, could use some sleep..."
__________
The tap of Argor's staff rang out on the near empty street on this early morning in Absalom as he returned to the manor. A lot had transpired over the past day, and there was much to process, even for the wizard's new found mental capacity.
"What is wrong with the fools I've been tasked with. Grommuk I can understand, as his dimwitted existence is only suitable for menial tasks and violence. The svirfneblin, however, I gave some credit for having some higher brain function, but he blatantly disregards or opposes my strategies at every opportunity. At least Cladissa has been able to grasp at least a moderate fraction of what was important in this mission."
As he turns into the gate to the manor, he sighs, "No matter. A few good hours sleep and I will put all this behind me. It's not their fault they do not function at my level. Not everyone was born with my gifts, and I should not fault them for their ineptitude."
When he enters his bedroom and shuts the door, Argor makes his way towards the desk and sets his spellbook on it's surface, then turns and walks towards his bed. Before he makes it, however, he feels a sudden burning under his skin, and before he knows it, his body is wracked with pain like before after the injection.
He cries out in agony, unprepared for the repeat assault, and falls to the floor. His body bends and twists painfully, and the wizard can do nothing but scream and convulse for several moments. The pain soon subsides, however, and the wizard manages to roll over onto his hands and knees.
Argor opens his eyes, and they quickly lock onto his hands, which are now covered in a hard, chitinous substance. He quickly checks his arms and his face, and the realization that his entire body is covered in this...this new surface...sets in. He manages to sit on the edge of the bed before exhaustion and the stress of this new change overtakes his weary body and he passes out.
__________
Another yawn escapes the mage, and he concludes, "Is there anything else, Venture Captain? We have been at this all night, and frankly, could use some sleep..."
"No, that'll be all. You lot did well last night, I'll make sure your report makes it into the Chronicles. Go home and get some rest. We'll call when we have need of you." The massive, bearded captain nods his head in respect to the weary wizard, and detains him no further.
Argos' punctuated screams do little to rouse Cladissa who is going through her own personal metamorphosis. She sleeps fitfully throughout the day and on into the night, tossing and convulsing. Strange dreams and hallucinations assail her, full of twisted visions and phantom images.
In the deepest part of the night, she gets her strangest dream, where she feels as though she had entered the body of her familiar and was seeing through his eyes. In her dream, she slipped out of her window and clambered down into the garden effortlessly, then swiftly scaled the fence. Sleek and silent as a shadow, she prowled the rooftops and alleys with graceful ease. She could see perfectly in the dim streetlights as she padded along, her tail twitching. Several mice and a couple unsuspecting birds fell prey to her nocturnal predations.
The next morning, Cole paws her awake. She pushes herself half up and scratches behind his ears. Busy night last night, huh? she asks him, her dream still fresh in her mind. He meows cryptically. She tilts her head at him, then looks past her cat to the open window in her room. I might need to keep you inside at night, she says as she gets up to close the window. If you eat like that every night, you'll get...
Cladissa trails off as she notices she has crossed the room solely on her toes. She looks down and sees her feet had changed -- becoming elongated and ending in catlike paws. Looking at the rest of her body, she sees the patches of dark fur had spread to nearly all of her skin and was now patterned with even darker stripes that seemed to catch the shadows and blend in with her surroundings. Her fingers now sported small, curved claws that still had signs of dirt, clay and fur in them.
She exchanges a long look at Cole, then promptly faints.
Grommuk spends the majority of the meal in silence except for the bestial slopping and slavering that accompanies any meals the brute consumes—doubly so this occasion, given how hungry he is. He's taken aback a little at Yargos' kind words and emphatic thanks. The orc knows what the man says is true, but he's still too jaded to expect kindness from humans. Even so, as is his way, Grommuk only manages a friendly grunt around his shawarma-stuffed mouth at Yargos' departure. Then his mind returns to their most recent fight. Though many of the details are lost to the usual haze of bloodlust, the satisfying pop of Nessian's head under his foot still remains with him. It brings a smile to the orc's face.
He accompanies Hrimnagel back to the manor and follows suit with the svirfneblin. Exhaustion overtakes him and he slumps over on his bed. It's not quite sized for someone of his proportions, but not enough so to be uncomfortable. Compared to slumming it in The Puddles, it may as well be a palatial suite. Of any changes that take hold he is blissfully unaware.
When Argor comes to his senses, he is greeted with the glaring look of Arctyryx studying his face. "What happened to your face?" the raven inquires.
Reflexively raising a hand to his cheek, he feels the smooth, hard surface of his new skin, and a look of frustration sweeps over him. He sits up, and moves to a mirror on the wall. The sinewy substance that would now classify as Argor's skin is dark grey, and looks similar to that of the carapace of some sort of monster talked about in horror tales.
"Hideous."
Argor then goes through his belongings, and finds the pair of gloves that went with his robes, and slipped them over his hands. He then looks about for another strip of cloth to cover his face, and manages to find a length of black silk that does not prove too difficult to breath through. He then lifts his hood over his head, and looks back to the mirror. While not perfect, his makeshift mask did manage to hide most of his new deformity.
He then moves to his desk and begins reading through his spellbook, performing his morning rituals and memorizations in case the Pathfinders decided to surprise them with another time urgent mission. As he does so, he also makes some further notes on some spells he had been working on.
Argor gathers up his staff, Arctyryx taking his usual perch atop the handle, and Argor quickly leaves the manor, without speaking to anyone. He makes his way to a nearby tailor and pays for her to craft him a proper mask to hide his disfigurement. It covered his entire head, leaving only the area around his eyes to hint at the changes that have overcome him through the night.
Once the majority of his hideousness had been hidden, he makes a few more purchases about town, namely to supply his new room, and then returns. After depositing his purchases in his quarters, Argor returns to the main room and awaits the others, once all have awakened and made their way downstairs, he asks coldly, "If we are going to be residing here long term, I suggest we make some, alterations, to this abode. I know I would like to add a proper library for my arcane studies, as I'm sure Cladissa would be interested in as well. Do any of you have anything you would like to change about this manor?"
He reaches into his robes and removes three bags that he tosses onto the table in front of him, each thud onto the table, producing the telltale sound of jingling coin. "We were rewarded quite handsomely for our services. You can each spend your coin as you see fit, of course. But if anyone would like to make arrangements to improve our living conditions or hire permanent staff, I would be willing to pitch in before I spend my coin on personal pursuits."
_________
Grommuk looks at Argor with glazed over eyes, allowing several seconds of silence before unceremoniously growling "Empty kitchen."
Argor closes his eyes briefly, realizing that he had let it slip his mind the mental faculties of his comrades. "Yes, a well stocked kitchen is something that could be arranged, Grommuk, and is in fact a necessity. Wouldn't you all like well prepared meals available to us at our whim, prepared by well trained cooks and served by competent staff? Frankly, I think Grommuk has a splendid idea in that regard."
"Perhaps if I make the oaf think it was his idea, he will go along with it."
Hrimnagel's breath labored as ran as fast as he could away from the dark fey from the Court of Ether. The memory of his friend slipping from his grasp reopened an old emotional wound. In this dream memory, the pixie arrows deflected off the shadows trailing behind him. This time his route did not stay on the ground, he ran up walls and around ceilings to lose the pursuing fey.
The deep gnome awoke after ten hours soaked in sweat and physically exhausted from virtually running all night. He spent some time trying to feel normal and grooming before heading downstairs.
Hrimnagel listens to the pompous human and replies to his attempt to get Grommuk to agree with him with "What's with the mask?"
Before the human can answer, he pockets his share and says, "I don't need servants or anything special, only some food." By this time, the small thin voice originates from thick shadows that have enveloped the gnome.
Argor balks when the svirfneblin mentions his mask. "It is none of your concern."
Argor rolls his eyes as the gnome slips into the shadows, showing even less interest in the endeavor to improve their living arrangements than Grommuk. He looks to Cladissa and says, "Well, perhaps you would be interested in a separate undertaking that I had in mind...seeing as these two lack the vision to improve their living situation beyond their next meal."
Cladissa had tiptoed downstairs quietly later that morning, wearing a full-length skirt and clutching a shawl around her shoulders. She rather shyly avoided conversation until Argor returned. Her yellow eyes gawked at his new mask as she sat in the corner. When Argor rebuffed Hrimnagel's question, she looked away and drew her legs up under her, keeping them covered by the fabric.
She was staring into space when Argor addresses her directly. She blinks, then looks at him. Um. I guess so. You had mentioned a library?
Argor seems relieved and excited that at least someone is interested in his ideas, and speaks to Cladissa directly.
"Yes, and perhaps even more. You and I both know that Aram Zey is a poor example of a teacher of those capable of the arcane arts. And I have no interest in living in this squalor, despite the fact that it has potential. I was wondering if perhaps you would be interested in founding an organization here in Absalom dedicated to the proper training of those capable of the mystics. It would take some time, and some coin, but could prove to be both profitable, and extremely beneficial to the city itself. Would something like that interest you?"
Without waiting for her response, he continues, growing more excited as he speaks, "We could build all sorts of useful facilities: libraries, laboratories, even scrying and summoning chambers. All of which would be used for the study and mastery of the Arcane, and should the public have a desire to utilize our services, we could provide them at a reasonable price."
Cladissa nods a few times, and occasionally tries to answer only to be talked over as Argor lays out his plans for an Arcanarium. When he finally pauses, she opens her mouth to speak, but her breath catches in her throat. Her eyes widen as she draws back.
You changed more too, didn't you? She clutches at the site of her injection, rubbing phantom pain. How can you be thinking of libraries and labs when this formula isn't done with us? she asks somewhat accusatory. She glances over to look at the reactions of Hrimnagel and Grommuk, and looks to see if they show signs of further changes.