"Okay," she says, nodding.
Her stomach still twisting uneasily, Cladissa wrings her hands as she feels Cole's gaze bore into her back. She tries to force it aside, to deal with what had just come over her later.
"We are here to arrest Celeena. Could you order the rest of your team out, so we can confront her? I don't want you to lose anyone."
"A powerful sorceress? We will see about that," Argor says as he floats brazenly into the room. He looks at Cladissa with a smirk and asks, "Making friends?"
Cladissa plants her hands on her hips and arches an eyebrow at Argor. "As a matter of fact. I presume you find that acceptable."
"I'm not sure. We're friends, but Celeena paid us 12,000 gold pieces to do this for her. It would damage our reputation if we just left...we'd never work again!"
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Mattera sized up the man, figuring out that Cladissa had used some magical coercion to make him more pliable. The best play is to get him to consider his losses before Cladissa promises him more of their money. He decides on a more gentle tone than he's used to using, but it ends up being a little more menacing than he'd like. "The problem is that you are all in over your heads. If you don't leave, you won't work again for a different reason. She really is looking out for you because what she suggests is your best choice to make."
Cladissa reels at the exorbitant sum these mercenaries were being paid. Then she shakes her head. "Celeena is committing treason as we speak. Your reputation would be hurt regardless. This way, perhaps you can be seen as heroes of Absalom! Isn't there some way you can turn this to your advantage?"
"Well...I guess if you tied us up too, maybe gave us a few knocks we could all get out of this ahead...ish. We'd look dumb for getting our asses kicked, but that's better than abandonin' a job. No one would blame us for losing to the Freaks anyway...that's who y'all are, yeah? My son makes me read him your stories from them Pathfinder Chronicles all the time....Say! Do you think y'all could give me an autograph for him too!? That would be great!"
Nyugusk shakes his head at the odd turn of events. What else has happened to our Cladissa?
When the man asks for an autograph, he shrugs and retrieves a quill from his pack, signing "Nyugusk Newblossom, the Transmogrifying Lotus". After that he ties the man up.
Cladissa smiles and blushes, but again inwardly grates at their group's moniker.
"Ah, how about you tell this to your people downstairs before we tie you up? I'm not sure how they'll react once your bound."
Cladissa plants her hands on her hips and arches an eyebrow at Argor. "As a matter of fact. I presume you find that acceptable."
Argor's lip curls into a knowing grin, "Indeed."
His eyes nearly roll from his head at the show of celebrity the usually reserved "Lotus" displays. And they claim that I am the one full of them self...
"I concur with Cladissa. Make certain the arrangement is agreed upon by the rest of your compatriots, and please, do so subtly so as to not spook our quarry. Can you give us her physical description?"
Janks nods. He goes over to the stairs, "C'mon up boys!" he shouts down. A moment later two more mercenaries come up the steps. "Made us a new deal," he explains to the mercs. "We don't need to fight these folk, we'll just end up dead and they're friendly. They're gonna let us go when they got what they came for, and our reputation stays intact."
The two men look incredulous, but they also look like they recognize the group and don't want to die. They nod, and go along with the plan.
Cladissa plants her hands on her hips and arches an eyebrow at Argor. "As a matter of fact. I presume you find that acceptable."Argor's lip curls into a knowing grin, "Indeed."
His eyes nearly roll from his head at the show of celebrity the usually reserved "Lotus" displays. And they claim that I am the one full of them self...
"I concur with Cladissa. Make certain the arrangement is agreed upon by the rest of your compatriots, and please, do so subtly so as to not spook our quarry. Can you give us her physical description?"
"Well, she's young and Chelaxian. Dark hair, nice set o perky t@*& and a tight ass. Got that noble b!%@%y thing going on...you know, typical sorceress."
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As Nyug ties them up, Mattera explains his intentions to the mercenaries. "I'm exceptionally good at hurting people, so I'll leave what kind of injuries you would like up to you. It's your reputation, so however bad you want them to be, you just let me know. Broken bones, gouges, claw marks, bruises, black eyes, the works, name it and you got it. I'm for not doing it at all, but you're the ones who gotta explain it to any future employers." He hoped that if they did find the twelve thousand gold, that they'd keep it instead of leaving it for these punks. Magic or no, it seemed like they at least knew when to quit. Perhaps they weren't as dumb as they let on.
"What else lies between us and her position, of which you are aware?"
"Not s~&!. We ain't been down past the next level, which is some kinda crypt. Dunno what's down at the bottom, she wouldn't let us follow her."
Cladissa loses her smile during Janks' crass description of Celeena, and lets Argor and Mettera take the lead in questioning. She steps back and quietly thrills in the beating he is about to receive.
::Hrim, perhaps you could take this opportunity to scout the next level and make sure there are no surprises in store for us?:: she suggests telepathically.
She then hangs back, folding her arms and frowning. The enchantment spell had been useful -- extremely so -- but her excitement at placing the man under her thrall was foreign to her. Except it wasn't -- she had felt another being with that same excitement before.
::Alright. ::
Hrim casts Detect Magic near Argor and stealthily flies downstairs to scout.
Argor notes Cladissa's "vested interest" in the handling of the captives. He turns to Mettera and mutters to the man, "Find out if any further barriers remain in our path. Doors, traps, etc."
He then floats over to Cladissa's side and folds his arms behind him. "Things are going well, comparatively speaking. Wouldn't you agree?"
Rutai flits over to Mettera's shoulder, knowing his presence makes the witch uncomfortable, and makes comments and suggestions to the beatings the men receive, finding the whole scene rather humorous.
Cladissa keeps her arms folded across her chest, giving her wings a flap as Argor floats near. Instead of the satisfying rustle of her old feathers, her demonic wings make a leathery sound that makes her skin crawl.
Suppressing a shudder, she gives a sidelong glance to Argor while she watches the treatment of the mercenaries. "I suppose. I wonder, though, how my efforts are being viewed."
Without turning his gaze from their captives, Argor replies, "Quite well, at least as far as I am concerned. You managed to incapacitate what seems to be the last of the resistance between ourselves and Celeena without any blood loss. Well, at least on our end. And such an endeavor should be commended. Especially in the amount of resources it has managed to conserve on our end. If we are truly without further opposition between ourselves and our quarry, I have a way we could slip up to her position and hopefully catch her unawares, perhaps allowing us to take her alive."
"My point exactly. Efficient and effective. Does this concern you? Am I still being judged to see if I am who I say I am? Because if so, I wonder if this causes you doubts."
Argor shakes his head, "I am convinced enough as to your identity. However, I would like to perhaps make a comment, rather, an assessment, that you might find displeasing. But only if you would like to hear it."
She looks at him coldly. "Oh, please. Do continue."
He turns and faces Cladissa and hushes his voice so that only she can hear. "There isn't a person among us, myself especially so, who is not vehement about what has happened to you. It was a deplorable act, and one that I assure you, we will avenge. However, instead of being ashamed of your new form, you should embrace it. I know it is not the form you sought or desired for yourself, but there is no denying the effect it has, as well as the lives it has already saved," he gestures with a nod of his head towards the captives. "Had you not been able to sway those men, as well as the ones above, that would be six more souls to the Boneyard rather than the fight to come."
She recoils and takes several steps away from Argor. She looks at him with a mixture of disgust and outrage. ::Em-- em-- :: she screams into his mind as her mouth works silently.
Her eyes blaze in their black and red pits while her wings flare out in their full demonic glory. Her tail twists and writhes behind her while her shadow on the wall dances and appears to cackle with mad glee.
For a moment her fury seems to be ready to boil over, but she takes several deep breaths and begins to calm down. "You have no clue," she hisses.
Her response being exactly as he expected, he simply folds his arms behind him and again floats around so as to be facing the interrogation and beatings.
::Yes, embrace it. And do not think I have no clue what it is like to be locked into a form not of my choosing. Do you not remember the months I was trapped within a form forcing me to don full clothing, mask, gloves, and heavy robes? Unlike your current state, the monstrosity I was forced to endure served absolutely zero advantage to me whatsoever. Granted, the serum and serum alone did that to me. I acknowledge that your transformation was against your will and under much, much more hideous methods, to which I have already expressed my condolences and aid in seeking retribution. There is little more I, or anyone, can offer in relation to the MEANS by which you reached this form. The past is the past. It cannot be rewritten. However, the pages ahead of you lie empty. You can choose to take up the quill yourself, and take control of what is written, or allow yourself to be tied down to the atrocity you have suffered.::
He turns his head slightly towards the woman, and says aloud, "My council to you, if you recall, has always been one of taking control of your life. Not to allow others to break your self confidence, and to try to boost your self esteem. Granted, we have had our differences and disagreements, but always we have worked together as allies."
His eyes return to the scene before them, and he shakes his head at a snide remark Rutai makes. ::Cladissa, have you not figured it out by now?::
Cladissa puts a hand to her temple as Argor presses, continuing his yammering both mentally and audibly. She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut against him.
::Shut up, shut up!:: she tries to force through as she buries her face in her hands.
When he finally stops, she glares at him. ::No, you need to figure it out! You cannot help with this! You cannot solve this! I don't need retribution; I just want them gone so I can start putting myself right::
She slowly shakes her head as her wings fold back up to their smallest profile. "Can you accept that?" she whispers, her voice hoarse as if she'd been screaming.
"Very well," Argor replies. ::Though, it is unsettling that you save your venom and anger for those trying to provide you aid, and reserve your fear and dread for those who seek to do you ill. But that is the last I shall comment on the matter, as you request.::
Changing the subject, he asks, "On another matter, I have failed you as host in your stay at Verde Heights. I haven't checked in on how your stay has been. Have you found your accommodations acceptable? Have the wait-staff tended to you with respectfully and courteously?"
Cladissa looks at Argor incredulously.
Then the arcanist shifts topics suddenly and though she blinks at the transition, she's not upset about moving on to something else.
She clears her throat. "It's just been the one night. Everything has been fine, though I've had other things on my mind to weigh the accommodations against other experiences."
"Indeed," Argor replies flatly.
"Nevertheless, I will not stand for my friends to have nothing but the finest in treatment and accommodations for their stay. If there is anything you need or desire, simply make it known to my staff and they will see to its fulfillment."
"I have been considering making some improvements to the estate. I am thinking of building a grand spire from the southwest corner, for one."
"All right. Well, let me know when you need us out."
Argor arches an eyebrow at the demoness beside him. "You think it wise for the group to separate at this juncture, given what has transpired?" he asks, his eyes motioning towards Cladissa's body to emphasize his point. He cannot help but let his eyes reflexively linger for a few moments longer than they should, before returning to the conversation. "Your invitations into my estate are, as of the current moment, of an indefinite duration, for the safety of everyone involved. That includes those of us in the primary group, as well as our affiliates, such as the wait-staff at Jabberwocky Lane, lest our enemies attempt to strike out at us through them as well."
Argor glances over his shoulder uncomfortably, before adding, "If you don't mind, I would like to continue the conversation in private..." hoping Cladissa understands his meaning and reopens the telepathic channel.
Her arms fold in front of her again and she stands looking skeptical. ::I haven't forgotten the time you tried to buy Jabberwocky Lane out from under us, then chided us for not being sufficiently grateful for you allowing us to stay there. I was simply concerned we may become a bother::
::What else did you need?::
Argor rolls his eyes, ::I didn't buy it out from under anyone. I bought it to provide us a place of refuge without the Society having their thumb on us. But never mind that, you are welcome to stay as long as you wish or until the threat is eliminated. To that end, what I wanted to discuss was that very threat. Try to maintain a calm expression as I relay this to you, in case we are being observed. I have a theory that the demonic forces we have faced, as well as those of the undead, are linked. To what end, I do not know as of yet, but I intend to find out. In my own experience and information gathering, I have learned that there are far more powerful undead lurking on this island than what we have encountered as a team thus far, and I have no reason to doubt the same is true for the demonic forces that have moved against us. Given the various invasions, infiltrations, and attacks we have faced to date, I fear what their end-game plan could be...::
Cladissa remains still, hips cocked and arms crossed, the only movement is her tail coiling and twisting. Her expression looks unconvinced.
::Or, maybe we've just annoyed a whole bunch of people. Hard to fathom, I know::
"I'll consider it," she says neutrally.
::Alright. ::
Hrim casts Detect Magic near Argor and stealthily flies downstairs to scout.
Hrimnagel floats silently down the stairs, cloaked in his shadows. He feels so lonely he could cry. Nobody notices. At the bottom of the stairs, he enters a large chamber. A perpetual thick gray fog covers the floor of this ancient stone room to a height of six inches. Four alcoves extend from a small circular center. The north and south alcoves are lined with ceremonial slabs on which rest skeletal bodies garbed in old finery, the west alcove contains a spiral staircase that winds down from the room above , and the east alcove contains only a simply wooden door in the east wall. As the gnome takes a look, he sees two mostly skeletal figures stir in the alcoves. One is a warrior in ancient Chelaxian armor with a large flamberge clutched to his chest. The other is a desiccated woman in red and black robes. They are trying to appear still, but are unaware of his presence. As Hrim watches them, he feels a sudden jolt of magical panic in his guts.
The terror settles into him and he knows her to be a terrible foe.
Once Hrim settles down, Cladissa thinks. "I could lend each of you Fortune, which will turn the strands of fate your way. It requires me to cackle madly, which will give away the element of surprise. However, in this case it might be preferable rather than run the risk of falling victim to the fear that Hrim suffered."
Nyugusk nods. "That makes sense."
As Cladissa goes about her preparations, the Transmogrifying Lotus swigs several extracts in a row. As he does, his eyes take on a frosted appearance, his arms grow longer, and he starts to twitch a bit.
Finally he closes his eyes for a moment, attempting to still his mind. I am the Transmogrifying Lotus. A self-perfecting swirl of chymicals rushes through my veins, clarifying my humors. My heart will be still in the face of any supernatural threats. I am the Transmogrifying Lotus.
Argor says, "Allow me to proceed, alone. I have expected undead opposition, given our history, and prepared for such a threat."
He then descends to the next level, and upon laying eyes on robed undead, targets it with his magics first, then the armed one.
__________
It's a curious madness that overtakes Cladissa when she begins cackling to extend her witch's hex. There is no true mirth to it, yet it seizes her entire being and she convulses in the throes of the insane laughter. She gestures to them and points in the direction of the staircases once the hex is levied upon her allies, and she stumbles after them, still laughing.
[dice=Spellcraft]1d20+15
Once Hrim settles down, Cladissa thinks. "I could lend each of you Fortune, which will turn the strands of fate your way. It requires me to cackle madly, which will give away the element of surprise. However, in this case it might be preferable rather than run the risk of falling victim to the fear that Hrim suffered."
Argor flies down the stairs, trying to be stealthy.
Argor flies into the room, keeping along the ceiling and trying to be quiet. He quickly sees the undead in their alcoves and speaks the words of his spell. The robed undead stiffens as it takes effect on her.
The warrior rises from his pedestal, a small axe in his hand. "Interloper!" it hisses, before flinging the axe at Argor.
The throwing axe deflects off the magus's magical shields and pings into the wall.
Seeing the robed figure fall under his command, Argor turns his focus on the remaining undead, taking up a full defensive posture and repeating the words of magic to bind the thing to his will.
Hearing an angry shout and the crash of a weapon hitting the wall, Nyugusk nods to Meterra and says, "Sounds like our cue," and then starts to hustle down the stairs behind Argor.