"Well currently, demon bits, lacquered box parts and a symbol on the floor. All of that in a two bit pleasure house. I smell cinnamon and something foul at the same time."
"Well currently, demon bits, lacquered box parts and
a symbol on the floor. All of that in a two bit pleasure house. I smell
cinnamon and something foul at the same time."
Her lips upturned at one corner. “Taken together, all is out of place. If this place is so often accompanied by foot traffic, people that would complain about such a smell, why would our opponent pick this establishment? The combination of smells…” Olivia stopped short of mentioning what had gone on outside. The paladin had to be sure it wasn’t something specific to her own…situation.
Instead, she continued adding in the evidence. “Then the demon…these daggers which seem to link seemingly unconnected peoples…then the addition of this Lamech figure Mal’undil mentioned.”
She was going to continue when Fir’umil came into the room.
”… At least your presence here has a purpose. Perhaps mine is to at
least remind you that your narrow focus may have been too so.”
Fir’umil smiled broadly, eyes narrowed and searching. “Should we survive this day, cousin, I may have a better inkling as to your true purpose here than you would care to know.”
The wizard refocused on the task at hand. For the time being, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about a knife in the back from Karthan. Should the morning come and they still walked the world, then Fir’umil had an important decision to make. These daggers and this room were another in a long line of indications that he couldn’t continue alone; no matter his feelings of their capabilities…or lack thereof. Mal’undil, the monk, the paladin, now his cousins…he would have need of the all.
“You two,” he waved a hand towards the paladin and his other cousin as he stepped into the room, his tone as gentle as he could muster but still laced with impatience. “Gather up what you’ve discovered and let’s return to the half-elf. We don’t have time for lessons in deductive reasoning.”
The latter comment was for Olivia Duneheim particularly. The woman could be so vexing sometimes when it came to her methods of reasoning out a scene. He stooped down slowly, bending at the knees so the wave of dizziness from Karthan’s efforts to render him unconscious didn’t send him to the floor. Gingerly he gathered up some of the frosted dust that was part of the circle and placed them into an empty vile. Perhaps later he would have time to look deeper into its makeup.
Then he looked at the center of the drawn symbol. He stepped into the circle.
“Careful, wizard,” Olivia warned.
“Stop wasting my time, Chaplain-Protector. The magic that was here has fulfilled its purpose.” He glared towards Zandra. “No thanks to my cousin’s impetuous attack.”
As he knelt down, he saw that Zandra had been going through some papers and scrolls on the desk. He reached into the folds of his robes and produced a scroll case. “Here,” He handed the item to Zandra. “Place those documents in here and seal the case tightly. It will prevent anything from being activated should there be any traps within the writing.”
He didn’t wait for a response but instead focused on the floor at the center of the circle. There was a design frost-burned into the wood…a cog…a circle…two lines making archs…
Spellcraft Check
…part of the cube that had been there…no, not a design, part of the inner workings of the cube that worked in conjunction with the spell traps…he didn’t know the spells in detail, but had experienced them in the past.
“Something mechanical, something cold, to draw upon the Void…” He recited to himself.
“Come,” he announced, standing up a little too fast and being rewarded with the room spinning slightly. He closed his eyes and refocused, then thumped his staff upon the wood floor. “Let us depart, our dawdling is only adding to the problem.”
"What part are you playing in this cousin, I know you have plans. Why don't you speak of them so none of us may have regrets born from miscommunication."
“Stop wasting my time, Chaplain-Protector. The magic that was here has fulfilled its purpose.” He glared towards Zandra. “No thanks to my cousin’s impetuous attack.”
"Fir'umil, you are welcome to take action more quickly next time, or am I misunderstanding you that you thought Olivia would let you cavort with demons in her presence. I for one am glad the homunculus did not have a chance to act. Not to mention its creator could cast spells through it. Since you have not advanced far enough in your own studies to create a homunculus I would say it resented a serious threat."
Karthan senses
Zandra senses
"You will try my patience then, won't you?" It was less a question than a point of fact. Fir kept his eyes focused on the window, if he looked at Zandra at that moment, he"d have flown into a rage. "I too, for lack of a better term would call the creature a homunculus."
Olivia let go a sigh. She knew where he was going with his next words.
Good, at least someone in this room was using their brains besides me! he thought.
"When in all your studies did you read, my dear cousin, that a homunculus could speak?" He leaned upon his staff and used all his will to keep his patience...what little remained. "These things behave similarly, but are not linked, nor created. They are summoned, then bartered with for a service. His may very well have been to sit upon that trap box." He waved to Olivia, beckoning her to continue lest he raise his voice.
"I acted in response to your attack, Zandra. These creatures, they do not let up once engaged,but they have shown a willingness to betray those in their circles..." Olivia looked apologetically towards Zandra. "I called out a challenge in order to keep focus off of Fir'umil."
The wizard ground his teeth. "The opportunity to cavort as you so naively stated may very well have yielded information behind who had resided in this room. It was not through this dead creature that our unseen enemy had cast his spell seeking to see into my mind, but thru this locus point." Fir'umil pointed at the circle.
"As for my plans, Karthan..." He clinched a fist, uncomfortable in admitting the next few words. "I am not at liberty to discuss them, af least not until we've been able to vouch safe your quality."
The paladin stepped forward. "What he says is true. I wouldn't be here otherwise...his manner not withstanding. Your aid is appreciated, but Fir and I must be sure where this case leads...and should we survive, we can discuss bringing you in on the larger picture. But, by Iomedae, I feel your presence in this city, at this time...it's not coincidence."
"Indeed," the wizard rasped. Fir'umil waited, something he despised to do.
"Then I would say in this case it is on you both to decide quickly of our quality for keeping us in the dark yet brining us along will only cause problems. For instance if a door opens and there is a demon sitting inside I am of a mind to attack it because I know its quality and it is evil and debased. The fact that there are known events that are part of an ongoing investigation and running into strange creatures was not unexpected might have tempered our actions."
"And Olivia I think you are right, our being here is not an accident, we were prepared and sent, some of us against our will, to be here. The only one of us who came here on his own accord, Hal'dorel,is notibly absent among us. If the blessing of the Elven Court is not enough for you both, then perhaps Zandra and I should retire to Caleb's home and let our betters continue on. But I add that we would not even be in this room were it not for Zandra."
Fir’umil felt undeterred and angry. His blood boiled with the impertinence exhibited by his cousin. Being fresh from the wishes of the Court, both Karthan and Zandra should be well versed in protocol. As much as Fir despised it, a variation (and more restrictive) of that same protocol now ruled his life.
He was about to speak when he felt his throat was going to betray him. A swift reach into the folds of his robes and he produced his tincture, breathed in and pointed towards the doorway. “Why don’t you return to the Scroll at once and rid us of your insufferable brinksmanship?”
“Fir’umil!” Olivia stepped forward, placing a hand on the wizard in warning. “That was unnecessary.”
Jerking himself from her touch, he glared at the paladin so she could share in his anger. “These are not slope-foreheaded, Cro-Magnons from the north! Where on Golarion have they been taught to shoot first and assess later?”
Olivia placed herself in front of the wizard and held him fast with a glare of her own. “You were not so different before coming into their service.” She folded her arms and set her stance. “Tell them, Fir’umil Osseus. Think on Karthan’s words, they make sense. The more they know the more effective they will be in the coming fight.”
He gripped his staff with both hands, tempted to leave right then and there and proceed alone. But the Chaplain-Protector was making sense…far too much for a human. Fir’umil glanced over her shoulder to where Karthan stood. Then back to Olivia. Grudgingly he nodded.
“Step inside and close the door behind you, we will need the privacy.” he gestured to Karthan to step into the room. Then he reached towards the window with his staff and closed the drapes. Olivia’s glow crystal lit the room well, even with the heavy curtains drawn.
Once all were focused, he spoke. “My father is dead.”
The words still were sharp in his chest. They still drew the same pain. But that didn’t make them any less true. Fir’umil saw Olivia, her eyes focused on his…was that pity? He ground his teeth and continued.
“I was led to believe that he was still alive, having been kidnapped by Drow fleshwarpers for whatever deranged reasons only our dark brothers know. But that was not the case, at least behind the scenes.
“When I approached the Elders for assistance in reclaiming my father, someone had spoken to them first and given them reason to deny my request. This was done with full knowledge of my nature and how that nature would eventually drive me to Absalom and Tabir the Grey.
“The group that convinced the Elders into this action knew my nature because Tabir the Grey knew my nature. My father and the old wizard were longstanding friends. They’d spend many years researching and pushing the limits of what magic meant in a world slowly tearing itself apart. It was because of his friendship with Tabir that my father was taken...and later killed.”
Fir’umil lowered his head, hands still gripping his staff. The anger that had suffused his body was all but gone now. “So I made it to Absalom, acquitted myself well within the Arcanamirium and found myself serving the needs of Tabir the Grey. He eventually revealed my father’s fate.” He paused long enough to swallow another drop of the soothing medicine for his throat. “Since that time, I’ve been working for the Arcanamirium investigating whatever they see fit to assign to me. I received word last night that the disappearances the Temple of Iomedae was investigating would lead to something of interest.”
Olivia added. “This is more than has been shared with Mal and Caleb and Lau. But that was at the behest of those who guide us. The common thread in all we do seems to be the odd bits of magic or alchemy that has not been seen before.”
Fir’umil sniffed at her words. “There are larger matters behind our efforts, but they have yet to be revealed to Olivia and myself. I stay on at the Arcanamirium because I wish to know more about the world my father did not share with me while he was alive.”
Seeing that her brother was agitated, perhaps rightfully so by Fir'umil's usual abrasive and dismissive personality Zandra decided that she needed to intervine as Olivia had. Karthan and Fir'umil were too similar in their stubborness.
"Insufferable brinksmanship indeed." I suggest you look into a mirror of your life cousin.
Karthan had all, but had it with the wizard. He was abrasive, ungrateful, and enjoyed grandstanding at others expense. Those symbols across his body were something that the hunter would have to investigate. He knew Fir'umil had told him only enough, he was still holding things back.
"Karthan, please at least meet our cousin halfway. His burden is great and we do not know ourselves what all has transpired since he left our shores. If he was our enemy Hal'dorel would not have set sail with him in search of his life answers. Let us learn from one another and grow from it."
"So be it. . . . Olivia, besides there being magic involved your church must have some stake in this. I don't believe every missing person is afforded an investigation by your order and slavery is not a new concept to this city. Can you shed any more light on the issue?"
"Perhaps we should return to meet with the others and continue this somewhere else?"
"No, let her answer, if the others and even Caleb have been left out of the loop it must have been for a reason." Karthan's face was impassive as his eyes searched Olivia's face.
"There's a man from the Order who gives me my assignments. They vary from day to day. Some, like this latest assignment, starts off mundane enough. A murder, a robbery, sometimes missing persons." She shrugged and looked at the symbol on the floor. "But like as not, the missions usually turn out like this. Something bigger lurking beneath."
"This is why I choose the honor of becoming a Chaplain-Protector instead of joining my father in the north for the Crusades. We are doing good in Absalom, otherwise I wouldn't be here. More importantly, my Order wouldn't be here."
Olivia pointed respectfully to the wizard. "On occasion my path crosses Fir'umil's. Not always." Olivia smiled. "I follow where the cases take me, I've been given an unusual level of autonomy. As I think the Arcanarium has given your cousin. Such latitude is not given lightly by the people we serve. We serve a common good, Fir'umil and I, even it he'd prefer not to admit it."
She stopped and waited, seeing if Karthan had anymore questions. The paladin was eager to go, but she could understand the curiosity.
"Very well, lets withdraw from here if there is nothing further to be gained. I believe Fir'umil knows more, but this place has eyes and ears. I will assume what we have learned here is not to be discussed freely."
Sense motive
Zandra looks back and forth between the members of the party. In a genuine manner she moves towards Fir'umil and places a hand on his arm. "It saddens me to hear that our uncle has passed, but at least we no longer have to fear for his suffering at the hands of the Drow. Karthan had hoped to lend his skill at arms to your quest and to exact his own satisfaction, for now at least that seems to have been put off, but who knows where these events may lead us. Tread lightly on our family relationships though cousin for you may find unexpected support and comfort there."
"Well then, shall we go?"
The wizard studied Karthan’s face, a new appreciation for the ranger growing in his mind. So this is what it would be like to argue with myself? “Yes, Karthan, to address your statement, I do know more.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, the next coming out just loud enough to be heard. “I will pay dearly for what I’ve disclosed up to this point. These are not all my secrets to tell. I fear our Chaplain-Protector will face like-wise the venom of her Order.”
Fir’umil looked down to his other cousin and frowned. This was the second time in as many days that she’d touched him. In both cases, he hadn’t liked it. That was not his preferred method of interaction. Point of fact, he preferred no interaction if he could help it; physical or not. More often than not those interactions ended up with him being impatient and a little angry. Of course that lead him to the current situation. There was no denying that providence played a role in bringing his cousins to Absalom. But it was a small role. Knowing now how his father had set things in motion resulting in Fir’umil being associated with Tabir…and all the rest.
“Let us go. Zandra, if you would be so kind as to satisfy my first request to bundle the scrolls and vellum on the desk into that scroll case, I would appreciate it.” He extricated himself from Zandra’s touch and strode towards the door, staff thumping along the wooden floor. As he walked, he reminded himself he would have to give his druid cousin a bit more credit for her words and thoughts. She could be devious even when attempting to use her smile and demeanor as a soothing balm.
Once everyone was clear of the room, Fir’umil used a small bit of wax and affixed a tack to the underside of the door handle. “Perhaps someone of value will attempt to return to the room. If he or she leaves behind a little blood, I may be able to learn something about them.”
The four made their way downstairs. Fir’umil noticed the odd attendant flinch at the sight of Zandra, a sense of trepidation in the way he chewed at his lower lip. The wizard shrugged it off and continued out the door to reunite with Mal’undil and Lau.
“What’s keeping them?”
“Patience, Mal’undil.” Lau’s voice held no trace of his earlier brush with the dagger. It was as though nothing had happened.
But Mal remembered it and didn’t like it. Less for the fact that more of those daggers had been found and all of them connected with someone on Olivia’s list. There were at least a dozen other times where the Temple had sent the paladin over to Caleb, entreating for the assistance of Mal and Lau, only to have something deeper rear its ugly head like a viper hiding in a cluster of rocks.
Okay, maybe not a dozen, but enough times that made coincidence too farfetched even for charmed life of Caleb the Scroll. Mal didn’t like coincidences…except when they resulted in winning at cards or something else pleasant.
“Here they come, my friend.”
The half-elf looked up from where he was checking the barding on one of the Rook’s axe beaks. The four were returning, no worse than when they’d departed. “Get Gertrude up, Lau.”
The monk bowed and saw to the camel. Mal’undil waved Olivia over to hand her the reigns to the axe beak. “For you, courtesy of Sebastian, who insisted that you pay a fee so you wouldn’t feel in his debt.”
“Thoughtful of the old bloodsucker,” Olivia grasped the reins and proceeded to check the beast herself.
“Took your time, eh?” Mal asked the wizard.
“There appears to have been meat to Zandra’s astute observation of the window. Some good information was acquired.” Fir’umil paused, looking over the animals. “Is Karthan’s the only horse?”
“Not that it matters, but yes.” Mal felt a bit impatient and redirected the wizard back to the topic. “What did you discover?”
“Hmm?” Was he really that preoccupied with the riding animals? Fir shook his head in disappointment. “A demon, most likely a chaotic derivation of an Imp or homunculus. A ritual circle in the room, designed with…clerical magic I should think by the flavor of the traps left behind.”
“Traps?”
“Yes. I would say the ritual symbol was a connection of some sort to the person who designed it.” Fir’s eyes focused on Karthan’s horse then he turned to the ranger. “I wonder if I might trouble you for a ride to our next destination. I’d prefer not to have to expend my spells needlessly.”
“Wait a tick,” Mal stepped forward, tempted to grab the wizard by the robes if necessary. “What are we dealing with here?”
Fir’umil sighed, the cantankerous elf actually sighed like it was a bother! “I would say that our unknown enemy used that room as a look out or a base of operations at some point. What did he look like, cousin? Wasn’t he scarred on one side of the face, one eye clouded over?”
That held him up short. “Lamech.”
Fir’umil nodded, as though he knew as much. “I think he’ll know we’re coming.”
“Then let’s not disappoint him.” Mal’undil took the reins for his camel from Lau and mounted up, the monk climbing up behind him. He saw that Karthan and Zandra had more to say, but they held their peace for the moment.
----
They arrived at the north side of Copperwood in the late afternoon. Most of the day laborers were in the process of returning from Absalom, heading into a small apartment or some other hovel as the sun descended in the east. The road the followed lead towards the edge of town, ending in a curve and a row of dilapidated, one-story houses. One of those homes held Lamech.
“He’s at the end of Gilford Street, right at the corner where Mill Street begins.” He brought the group to a stop in front of a small inn called Kidgington’s. An establishment with a stable to leave the mounts and proceed on foot. Before she could ask, Mal motioned to Thorandil. “The tiger comes with us.”
He knelt down and unrolled a small scroll, a drawn map of the area Sebastian had provided when Mal had asked for the use of mounts. “I’m open to any tactical advice for the offing.”
"Well I am down on spells, but I still have my weapons and Thor."
"If this cleric is the locus for our troubles thus far, he is powerful, I would keep him at range, but I doubt he will easily come into the open. Cousin, are there any rules of engagement that you can propose?"
"The most covered approach would be from the east on Mill St along the north side of the buildings."
"Mal'undil, you seem to know the most about this man. What can you tell us about him?"
The half-elf frowned. Why would Karthan ask the wizard for tactical information?
“If there are more people in the home than just this Lamech, then we should attempt to keep one of them alive.” The elf shrugged, hands gripping his staff. “If this Lamech is alone, I’m not sure if he’ll surrender given what we can surmise about the man.”
Mal folded his arms across his chest, the small map of the environs fluttering in the breeze. “And just what do we surmise about him?”
“You’ve made it known that he is a follower of Norgorber?”
Uh,oh, Fir’umil was getting that tone he gets when he concludes he’s right before the rest of the group. “That was his fancy when he brought Emilura on board his operation.”
“I think this has gone past just a cult for the idiot Gray Master. As I mentioned earlier, the magics involved had the distinctive flavor of Chaos, and in skillful enough levels that the normal morons who follow Norgorber could not possibly have conjured them.” Fir’umil gestured absently towards Olivia. “Check with the paladin if you don’t believe me.”
“So if he doesn’t follow the Skinsaw cult, then what?” Mal’undil was intrigued; less by the wizard’s vehemence but more that Olivia was nodding agreement over the wizard’s shoulder.
“Take your pick of the lot, but don’t underestimate his power.” He indicated the other two elves and Olivia. “Whoever the cleric was, they had power enough to conjure attacks through a ritual symbol to attack me directly. Most likely from a great distance…probably from the house we intend to enter.”
Mal’undil thought on his words, eyes focusing on the ground as he thought of the home that lay to the north of their position. Something just didn’t jive in his head. “I don’t get what Lamech got into. Despite his scars, the cloudy eye, he’s always had a personality that drew people in.” The half-elf made a gesture to simulate the words. “I think that’s how he rose so quickly in the business.”
“Slavery.” Lau mentioned the word as a reminder. What was on the monk’s mind?
Mal’undil shelved the question and continued. If Lau wanted to share, he’d speak up in his own time. “Among other things. Lamech cultivated quite a following as both a risk taker, and a man willing to hire the lowest of the low to get the job done. Knee breakers for the guilds when they had labor disputes, even replacement slave labor for the workers who wouldn’t break.”
“That doesn’t make him a cultist.” Olivia responded.
“No, but I’ve heard tell that his business goes up during the time the Black Mask begins selling skinsaw outfits. Lamech recruited right out of their shop so he’d have access to the cruelest and the morally depraved.” Mal considered more of Zandra’s question, focusing on what he could add to the list of information. “He’s ruthless, cunning and willing to go further than most I’d wager in a straight up fight. Somehow, I don’t think he’d be one to give up, especially if he’s gone off the deep end as Fir’umil implies.”
Okay, there it was. He’d get his wish to see the bastard dead for Emilura…but based on what Fir’umil had said, that could be easier said than done.
“Then my recommendation is that he dies.” Fir’umil looked disappointed at the pronouncement. “I will do my best to learn what I can about his operation from what is left. But if you have an opportunity to subdue him, then by all means take it.”
Mal gestured back towards the map, gathering the group together. “Some of us will take Karthan’s advice and approach along Mill Street. He may know we’re coming, but even a few seconds of surprise can make the difference in a scrap.”
“Some of us?” Olivia asked.
“As I said, he’s expecting us. So we give him what he expects. Karthan, Zandra, Thor & Lau will approach along Mill Street as quiet as possible. The rest of us will approach from the south.” He made a straight line in the air. “Right to the front door.”
“Wonderful.”
“Don’t be so dark, Fir’umil. I intend on being the one to knock on the door.” A crooked grin played across the half-elf’s lips. “Remember that time in Westerhold with that group out of Riddleport?”
“I do have something similar prepared.” Fir’umil acknowledged. “But that all but guarantees the house will burn to the ground.”
“If things go south quickly, then that’s what we’ll have to do.” He turned to Olivia. “String up your bow, be prepared for healing where it’s needed.”
He turned to the elves and Lau and Thorandir. “You four, get in behind the house, keep hidden. If we have folks rabbiting out the back, you take them down. If they start attacking out the front, you should have an angle on them. We’ll give you a head start before moving in on the house.”
He paused to see if there were any questions.
Stealth Karthan
Stealth Zandra and Thor
perception Karthan
perception Zandra
scent Thor
Karthan, Zandra, Thor and Lau headed east, linking up with Mill St to head north and end-around towards Lamech’s house. The going was made easier the closer they got to the location. It seemed that the housing became more and more run down with less and less people.
Those that did spy them didn’t seem to care much, even with the tiger in their midst. For some reason the denizens they did see were as apathetic and rundown as their homes. The four headed between houses as they rounded Mill St, ducking into the shadows cast by the late day’s light. With the marine layer coming in from the bay, there were dark areas aplenty.
They skirted the dilapidated houses, all devoid of occupants at this point, leaving behind the hard packed thoroughfare for the more muddy remains of the previous day’s rains. It was slow going and as they came closer to Lamech’s house every one of them began feeling a twinge in their bellies, like an ethereal fist closing over their stomachs.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…” Lau muttered quietly. He pulled his pair of javelins as he moved deftly across the muddy ground.
Thorandil responded instinctively to the ominous feeling descending upon them. As he stepped, his tremendous paws flexed to the point his claws would pop out, his maw pulled back to reveal pale white canines ready to maul the source.
They were within four houses of the location, coming up short as Karthan held up a fist to call a halt. Everyone froze, even Thorandil remained silent as they searched the area in front of them and listened for signs.
A mist was descending from the marine layer. Not thick enough to impede line of sight, but it seemed to amplify the feeling of doom. There was no mistake, it was coming from up ahead…the subtle prodding at their instincts telling them they should be leaving.
Karthan pointed to his ear, then a swift gesture towards where Lamech’s house. Zandra nodded, having heard it too. Music…a lute being plucked through a somber tune…it carried across the light mist. Karthan motioned for them to move forward, hand low and palm down. We’re close…stay low and quiet. the gesture reminded them.
They cleared the next house, checking the street to their left to make sure no one was watching…nothing, they moved. The music was grew as they approached, the feeling in their guts growing stronger. They could hear lyrics now, a gravelly and melancholy voice coming in over the somber notes.
”You know he got the cure
You know he went astray
He used to stay awake
To drive the dreams he had away
He wanted to believe
In the hands of love”
The group approached the next house, the mud at their feet slowing their progress. The mist coiled about them, moisture brushing the backs of their necks like a dead hand.
”His head felt heavy
As he cut across the land
A dog started crying
Like a broken hearted man
At the howling wind
At the howling wind”
They paused at the back of the house, listening, searching…no movement. Karthan and Zandra saw Lamech’s place, one house over from their position. The windows of the place were smudged with grime, but they could see soft candle light coming from the interior. A small ledge of dirt was at the back of the house, possibly a place to hide if they crouched really low.
They could just make out the front of the house’s corner, not the actual front. There was light coming from the porch…that’s where the music was coming from too. Under the music, Karthan and Zandra could hear a creaking of wood, back and forth, back and forth. The singing continued.
He went deeper into black
Deeper into white
Could see the stars shining
Like nails in the night
He felt the healing
Healing, healing
Healing hands of love
Like the stars shining down
From above”
Last house ahead, they made their move. Three of the four stopped there, a clear view of Lamech’s house, still unable to see the front, but they could just make out the street leading from the south. The fourth, Karthan, continued forward and headed to the house directly behind Lamech’s. The back was clear, he had a clear path…but he missed a step, a section of mud caught his left foot and his forward motion powered him through the impediment. But the sound of his foot leaving the grasping mud caused a sickening slurping sound that carried into the night.
Karthan made it to the house behind Lamech’s, ducking behind the corner and freezing. He could see the others from their hiding place behind the adjacent house. Zandra’s eyes were big in the night, two beacons of worry.
All was silent...
…even the music, but the creaking of the wood, back and forth, back and forth continued. They collectively held their breaths, not daring to look around the corners of the houses they hid behind.
Then the music continued.
”Hand in the pocket
Finger on the steel
The dagger weighing heavy
In his heart he could feel
The beating, beating,
Beating oh my love
So the hands that build
Can also pull down
The hands of love…”
The strumming on the lute ended with a flourish and a voice spoke. “I see the old Feyd before me, cleaned and renewed.” It was the voice of the singer, gravely and somber.
Zandra and Karthan dared to peek around their respective corners. Karthan couldn’t see the front of the house, but he noticed the light in the house through the grimy windows in the back shifted; a shadow moving in the interior. The elves knocked arrows while Lau readied his first javelin.
Zandra could just see around the edge of the front of the house. Olivia was standing there, resplendent in her armor, bow knocked, cape riding on a gentle breeze John Woo-style. From the druid’s angle, she couldn’t see anyone else.
“I see the youngling grown into a minstrel,” It was Mal’undil’s voice, cocksure and clear. The half-elf and the wizard were further around the corner of the house outside of Zandra’s line of sight.
“I also see two of your friends.” A pause by the unseen singer. “I wonder, where are the others?”
“The Arcanamarium, delivering some interesting weapons we found.” The bluff was so convincing even Zandra and the others thought that was where they were at the moment.
The sound of a door opening slowly on rusted and worn hinges…the front door. Heavy booted steps on the porch. If only they could see the front!!
“Shame the rest them aren’t here to enjoy my company, Mal’undil. I have such sights to share.” A new voice, whispering and echoing along the failing light of the afternoon. The sound drifted upon those same currents of read they’d been experiencing on approach.
“How’s the eye, Lamech?” Mal’undil, tone harsh and threatening.
“Judge for yourself!”
Zandra saw Olivia tense, bringing up her bow, but then she saw Mal’undil stagger backwards and hit the ground, a glass dagger hilt protruding from his chest.
“Fir’umil…” Mal gritted out, hands grasping at the glass dagger.
”Ignis vox!!” Fir’umil’s voice in the language of magic, the last syllable drawn out until it took on a life of its own and roared.
Flames burst around the corner of the house like a terribly burning wave, the grimy windows of the small house brightened with renewed light then shattered outward fire licking at the misty night air. The rear door flew open, a thin figure sent backwards as flames pushed her from the house. Her body hit the ground 15 feet from Karthan and Zandra, skin blistering and much of her clothing burning. A kukri landed a few feet from her hand.
Through the blistering face, they recognized the Varisian dancer form the Toiling Gent as she cried out in agony, body already convulsing with waves of pain.
Karthan regarded the burning woman with no emotion showing on his face. She was in the Rooks employ and now she turns up here. Interesting, was she for or against him. No matter, the hunt has begun and main quarry has shown himself, no time to waste.
Karthan goes west on the map to get a shot at the porches southwest corner.
Init
Zandra pitied the burned woman, but with only one spell left she could not spare to use it on her and the burns were so horrifying the spell would only serve to cause her to suffer longer. She thought momentarily of putting an arrow into her to end that suffering, but chose to let nature run its course. If Lamech is killed or captured quickly then maybe I can aid her, but for now I must consider her my enemy and she would offer me little if any consideration in return . . . I really hope the Rook isn't using us like pawns, if so he made a masterful move that we are actualizing.
Zandra and Thor hold tight covering the doorway waiting for a more clear reason to act.
Now THAT! Smells good! Oh, I do hope no one is reading my mind right now, but with all those sashes, jewelry and bits of flair, she sure does make a fancy feast. . . Okay something should happen soon . . . There goes cub Karthan, fire still burning in the front, yes . . . Meat good! fire bad! Patience old cat, patience.
Thor is prepared, but has an aloof look to him as he scans the area.
Init
Lamech's Group
Lau
Mal'undil
Olivia
Fir'umil
Lamech's Group 19
Thor 16
Mal'undil 11
Fir'umil 11
Zandra 10
Karthan 9
Lau 9
Olivia 6
Mal'undil is down, a glass dagger hilt protruding from his chest. Fir'umil is squared off, staff held at his side and facing two opponents as though he'd just finished shouting at them. Next to the prone Mal, Olivia looks to be moving to cover the half-elf with her body, her bow drawn.
Opposite them, two humans. One is recognizable as the bard called Agidor from the Toiling Gent. There are bits of flame on his clothing, skin boiling up in sections, but he looks way better than the Varisian dancer you saw earlier.
The second human must be Lamech. He's dressed in black robes with strange symbols upon the garb that are almost sickening to see. His garb also has spots of little flames, but again he doesn't look as bad as the dancing girl.
Lamech places a hand to his chest, grasping a medallion hung on what could be a platinum chain. He speaks two words in a tongue foreign to Karthan. "Oicifda nist, meelduhl!"
The dagger in Mal'undil's chest glows with a purple and blue light, the half-elf arches his back and kicks out his feet against the ground in pain. Spell Damage to Mal
Agidor the BardQuick Draws a flight dagger and sends it at Fir'umil Attack Roll The dagger is deflected away as a ephemeral shield materializes and fades away.
At the Rear of the House Zandra and Lau and Thor see a figure stumble from the house through the rear door. He's burned, but not nearly as bad as the woman on the ground. He looks like the drummer from the Toiling Gent. In his hands he carries an iron and wood cube from a heavy handle. The box is roughly 2 feet cubed. Something within is gibbering and clawing at the wood sides. The drummer shakes off his damage and place his back to the corner of the back of the house, eyeballing the street, hands fumbling at the latch on the box.
The Varisian dancer is writhing on the ground in pain.
Thor saw the weasel man prey with the cage box. The time was now. Springing into action the tiger bounded twice in a blur leading with his maw and fore claws outstretched as he closed on his prey whose turning his back on him triggered his predatory urge. The not yet mature great cat slammed home on the man his head and fore claws finding their mark holding him fast while his rear claws came up and kicked at the mans abdomen in a tremendous raking action. The feeling of his prey buckling under him he let out a celebratory guttural roar.
Bite
Claw
Claw confirm
claw
Both foreclaws hit rake with rear claws
rear claw
rear claw
Bite
Claw
Claw
Rake
Rake
The drummer is caught flat-footed (AC 12). Thorendel tears into him with abandon, gore stripping away from the human in ribbons.
The drummer collapses, bowels expelling from his abdomen, neck and shoulder nearly chewed through. The box flings from his hands, hitting the ground. Whatever is gibbering and gnashing and clawing inside becomes enraged.
Random Direction (8-point compass)
Percentage Chance Box opens (20% or under)
The box remains closed, coming to a stop at the side of the house, leading towards the street. 15 ft from Zandra.
Mal'undil Rolls Fortitude (DC 18)
Mal's seizure ceases, the glow from the dagger diminishes. He leans on his hip, a quick drawn flight dagger in his hand and he throws it at Lamech.
Thrown Dagger Hits!
Damage
Fir'umil sets his footing and looks as if he were about to bellow a full-bodied shout at Lamech and Agidor. Gouts of flame erupt from his mouth in a roar and shriek. Hitting the two out front of the house and bursting into the small building again.
Second Round of Spell Damage (Reflex for Half)
Lamech's Reflex Save
Agidor's Reflex Save
rapid shot 1
rapid shot 2
Damage
Karthan loses his first arrow at Lamech which flies true quickly followed up by a second that for whatever reason did not release smoothly from from the string and flies wide.
Karthan momentarily loses his composure and hisses through his teeth in disgust, then steels himself and reaches for another swan fletched arrow from his quiver.
Zandra wanted to summon her screaming eagle, but her last spell was a healing spell. She needed to retain it, but she knew she would regret not using it if in hindsight she could have ended the fight without further injury or even a death amongst her companions. She had her bow nocked and ready and briefly covered the burnt dancer with her arrowhead. Again she thought of shooting her to free Lau and herself up to address the threat at the front, but the memory of the halfling stayed her hand. The glass daggers somehow controlled their victims. The halfling wanted, pleaded for her to help him with it. Now Mal was impaled with one . . . "No regrets."
Zandra released the life energy mana and drew it back to herself as Anima. "Celestial Eagle return to me strike true!"
The celestial eagle was soaring over the plains of Elysium holy infused feathers basking in the rays of the sun. He heard the young ones call. His crown feathers ruffled, she was not his enemy, but she was not righteous, but he could not resist her call. . .
The eagle ripped into existence tearing through the planes or existence from Elisysim and into the prime material. Below him he senesed the taint of evil and chaos, he felt the evil in his gizzard and bile rose in his craw. The young one has great need, I will smite this evil! The eagle tucked his wings and dove holy energy gathering in his beak and talons.
beak
talon
talon
beak
talon
talon
Both talons strike true doing 8 physical and 2 holy damage if Lamech is evil.
Lamech flings up his arms, quick to defend his one remaining good eye. The medallion once in his grasp falls to hang against his neck upon the platinum chain. Blood flies from the wounds inflicted by the flying beast's talons, (in slow motion) the scattering drops of blood steams in mid air at the goodness of the beast coming in contact with one so foul.
His other hand, clinches something tightly in a closed fist. Lamech attempts a summoning of his own...
Lau moves towards the front corner of the house, skirting the banded iron and wood box as the unseen creature struggled within it. His concern is for his friend, laying prone with one of those cursed daggers in his chest. The monk sees Agidor the Bard and Lamech on other side of him being assaulted by an Eagle. Lau launches his first javelin at Agidor.
Javelin Attack Critical Threat
Confirm Critical Critical Miss
Javelin Damage
The monk positions himself for engagement with Agidor.
Olivia was torn, she saw her friend go down, knew the level of danger in the glass dagger in his chest, but her instincts were to press the attack on Lamech.
Iomedae, help me to lay low this new evil!! she prayed, drawing back her bow and loosing an arrow at Lamech.
Smite Evil against Lamech (+2 attack, +3 damage and a +2 AC vs Lamech)
Longbow Shot Hit!!
Damage
The paladin drops her bow and moves to pull her shield and sword as she steps directly between Lamech and Mal'undil.
Lamech's Turn
Staggering under the concentrated barrage, the vile cleric's right hand warms, wax spilling between his clinched fingers as he works a summoning.
Concentration Check Failed!!
His wounds are too great! Lamech tries to mutter the incantation to summon a creature to his aide, but as quickly as the wax in his hand warms, it cools and the spell fails. Lamech cries out in frustration as he continues to beat at the Celestial Eagle causing him dismay.
Agidor the Bard's Turn
The minstrel feels compelled to run to his master's side, but he must face the new threat. He turns to find the wretched monk having been the one to throw a javelin at him! The filty half-elf had lied!!
He quick draws a dagger and launches at his new foe.
Dagger Throw Miss!!
The minstrel puts a hand to his belt to grasp another dagger, vexed at his errant throw.
The Box
The gibbering and yammering creature within the box continues to claw at its prison, the cage jarring to and fro under its thrashings.
Unseen Creature Attack Miss!!!
Varisian Dancer
The girl joins her drumming commrade in the great beyond, expiring at her turn. Her struggles cease for all eternity.
Fresh from the kill Thor bounds around the corner after Lau who was obviously looking for the next kill. Stupid bird! the regal cat miffed, Always summons that damn bird! Ah fresh meat drawing iron tooth, puuuuuuufect!" Thor springs on the minstrel.
Bite
claw
claw
rear
rear
bites
claw
claw
claw
claw
Lau sidesteps as the tiger goes bounding around the corner, a gutteral roar-fueled attack upon the Bard. Arterial spray from the neck and the groin area sprays across the big cat's snowy grey fur, bloody trophies upon his chest and sides.
Agidor breathes his last before he falls to the ground, freshly drawn flight dagger clattering at his side.
His dagger wriggles loose from Lamech and returns to Mal's hand (free action to catch). Mal'undil tries to stand, rolling forward to his knees, but the pain is still gripping his body. He drops his weapon, trying to stay upright.
The half-elf looks down at his chest, the glass dagger pulsates dimly with a sickly-purple light then begins to flicker in and out of existence. Each time it returns, it causes fresh pain to the wound. He falls to his side, looking up through a haze of fresh agony to see the wizard in his vision.
"Fir'umil...help me." He grits out.
Glass Dagger Damage
Fortitude Check to Half Miss!!
Mal'undil falls unconsciousness due to his wounds.
Fir'umil drops his spell, knowing that another gout of flame would possibly hit the tiger, the eagle and Lau.
"Fir'umil...help me." Mal'undil calls in agony.
The elf looks over to see the rogue's eyes roll up and close, the glass dagger flickering in and out of existence in his chest. He resolved to try and learn the spell, perhaps a hope of countering whatever was occurring...
He turned his attention away from Lamech, kneeling down at Mal'undil's side.
Perception to Hear
Spellcraft Check
The elf's eyes grew wide in horror, looking from the dagger to the cleric and back to the dagger. "Press the fight! Kill Lamech now!" he called out, voice cracking and sending him into a coughing fit over the unconscious form of the half-elf.
Willpower Check for Fir'umil Failed!!
Between coughs, the wizard begins trembling with fear, attempting to crawl into a ball within himself to hide from what he's just seen.
Zandra's heart froze, Mal was down and dying and she had let her life saving spell go. She rushed to Mal's side to see what could be done for him using her knowledge alone.