Mephiston sighs and rolls his eyes. "Faust, take the wand and go heal the Pharasman before he gets himself killed." He feels a slight tug at his bandoleer as the invisible imp does just that and a few moments later Azulth feels several of his wounds starting to close. Mephiston himself leaps from the darkness shifting past the assassins with little trouble and then slamming his large black mace down at the man between him and Azulth.
Just as quickly as her spell had sapped the life energy from the assassin, the man spun around and severed her from the magic and nearly took her life. The wave of healing from where Ahto and Tosguld were, and the assassin stumbling to the floor was was a welcome turn of events, but the danger was not over. Focusing as hard as she could to channel her magic again, she sent a blue bolt of electrical energy into her weapon and then she attacked the nearest assassin. She was eager to deal out some vengeance.
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+
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Intensified Shocking Grasp DC 16
CRITICAL CONFIRM
Status effects
Shielded +4 AC
Grazed -1 attacks, saves, skill checks
+3 to hit targets with metal armor (not included in rolls)
Azulth's still quick movements once again surprise the assassins as he attacks. He cuts into the first as he moves right past him to attack Tosguld, and then shifts quickly to the side and slices deeply into the chest and shoulders of the assassin that wounded him; two of his cuts miss by a narrow margin but the other two begin to bleed heavily into his clothes, albeit the red cloth makes it hard to tell just how badly he was injured. Still, despite staggering a bit he raises his sword for another blow against the inquisitor before he topples to the ground, with Ahto's dagger protruding from the back of the man's neck. Variel's shot flies through the crowd and hits the other assassin in the shoulder, and he stumbles back a few steps. Varrren and Pyrrha make quick work of the other remaining assailant, and between his subtle jabs and her sweeping strikes he goes down and crumbles into the same odd flaky substance. Now devoid of backup, the final assassin raises his blade in a defensive posture as the group closes in around him.
"Bloody criminals!" Tosguld launches two jabs in quick succession at the final assassin.
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If the assassin is still alive after that, Edward takes a quick five foot step away from him and tries a good old fashioned DC 16 Hold Person on him.
It's worth a shot.
Tosguld comes at him with his fists up, coming at the assassin as he reels backward. Both punches connect with his chest and face, leaving the assassin with a busted lip and hacking cough as he struggles to recover. Edrward's spell begins to lock his joints into place but the assassin struggles against it and fights off the spell, before launching into another attack on Tosguld. Despite his heavy wounds, the assassin still stabs and slices with an unhinged ferocity. However, for all his fury, his attacks clatter and graze off the guard captain's armor. Only one bullet manages to hit him directly from all the assassin's attacks. It seems his injuries are impacting him more than you might have guessed.
"The priest's got the right idea. Take 'em alive!" Ahto shouts.
He moves into the hallway and takes a swing at the remaing assassin, attempting to knock him out .
"Thank you," Mephiston says, glad that somebody remembered his suggestion.
Azulth agrees with the idea of taking the last assassin alive, but he doesn't have the weapons to do so--his daggers are designed for death, not mercy. So he steps back, one knife slipping into its sheath on his belt, and he brings his hand up. His holy symbol flashes with power as he channels the very energy of the Boneyard to reveal the fate that awaits this vile foe.
Mephiston swings in for the man's gut, aiming to bludgeon him senseless rather than outright kill him.
Yet again the assassin fails to fall under the combined might and magical power of the party, rolling with Ahto's punch and struggling against the power of Azulth's magic. However, Ahto's punch leaves the assassin winded enough that Mephiston's first strike with mace manages to sneak past his defenses. The assassin doubles over and collapses to the floor in a heap. For a moment it's not clear if even this will cause him to collapse into dust as his companions did. However, it seems he's here to stay for the moment. The assassin--whether truly alive or not--continues to breath for the time being. Now that the danger has gone, Captain Varris leaves from the room with the witness and walks out to see you all. "Captured one alive, have you?" he inspects the body, looking at it with a trained eye. "Well, alive enough. It doesn't appear that our witness was injured. I don't know what these things are, but they aren't human and they aren't real Red Mantis. Maybe once it wakes up we can ask some questions." The captain hauls the collapsed assassin up and shrugs him into the chair, then ties his hands behind his back. "Representative Thrune, please have our witness taken to a healer so they might help with his arm. Any material costs will be paid by the Graycloaks; just send the bill to the Primarch."
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Not too long after, the assassin rouses from unconsciousness. He rolls his shoulders and finds himself tied to the chair. For a moment the assassin struggles, before he simply seems content to stare angrily at the group. He slowly looks over his body, perhaps hoping that the group missed some of his hidden weapons, but eventually his eyes just settle on Mephiston.
Mephiston nods. "Yes, I'll do that. And I believe I need to have the guards who were supposed to be at the door flogged and their loyalty thoroughly tested. This should never have happened. Excuse me for a moment." He dismisses the darkness blanketing the interrogation room and helps the Iomedaean to his feet before taking him off to one of the more trustworthy priests at the embassy. He orders two more guards to keep the man under watch, with a promise that they won't be returning to Cheliax in one piece if they fail, and delivers a message to the head of security that some of his men may be compromised and that he should start looking into that immediately.
Once he's seen to the man's safety, he returns just in time to find the assassin waking up. "Good morning," he says amicably. "You're going to answer a few questions for me." His hands glows bloody red and he touches the man's forehead. "And I wouldn't advise lying. It has some... unfortunate consequences. Let's start with who sent you, shall we?"
The assassin flinches slightly when Mephiston touches his forehead, but he steels his face quickly. "I was sent by my creator; I was told to kill the man if he wasn't put down in the fight. He was not put down in the fight. I came to kill him. You got in my way." Mephiston can see the man twitch under the pressure, but the lack of pain from the spell makes Mephiston believe he's telling the truth. "I know nothing of value to you. That's why I was sent, in the place of a true Red Mantis. They didn't believe anything else would be... necessary to deal with the resistance presented, even in the embassy."
"I see. They were likely prepared to eliminate him no matter where he was taken into custody then. Very well. Search for the men at your leisure then, and make sure to look for any further signs of who was responsible. I want to know who's behind this." Mephiston leaves out that he already has a pretty good idea. "This Last Disciple is getting more and more interesting the longer I'm here."
"That wasn't so hard," he says, patting the... not really a man's cheek. "Now how about you tell me what you are and who made you?"
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Variel eyes the assassin, his mind racing to discern what the hell the man sitting in front of them was.
. "They didn't believe anything else would be... necessary to deal with the resistance presented, even in the embassy."
Variel scoffs "Cocky bastards, aren't they?" he comments towards Pyrrha, Ahto and Varrren -or whoever listens to him- before returning to being silent as Mephiston keep the interrogation going on.
As Mephiston interrogates the assassin, Tosguld leans over to whisper in Captain Varris' ear. "He - it's not human? Have you ever seen anything like this before?"
"Like this? No. There's no way this thing is human, though; it's companions broke into dust and collapsed at your feet." Captain Varris looks at the assassin again, before turning away in disgust. Even with the assassin captured, he keeps one hand on his sword hilt. "There is magic that can create duplicates of a person, but... not like this. A simulacrum is made of ice or snow, but they're nowhere near as powerful as what they're made of. These were more powerful than I'd expect, and more importantly weren't made of snow. Likely a trick of the Red Mantis; they're not captured or killed often enough to actually have their secrets found." Variel knows vaguely of the spells the captain is describing, but he's right in saying they don't quite describe what has happened here. This thing, whatever it is, is more powerful than it ought to be and looks to have been made of blood.
"I will tell you nothing of what I am nor who created me. I fear neither pain nor death; there is nothing you can do." The assassin lets a wry grin grow on his face as he stares Mephiston down. Mephiston's spell causes the numerous wounds on his body to tear open farther, but he doesn't seem to notice or care. "I am a secret of the Red Mantis. A secret I will keep."
"You're a resilient one, aren't you? I have to admit, you're dedicated. Or made to be like that I suppose. I can't give you much credit if you're just a construct." Mephiston steps back. "I have one question left. Anyone have something they want to ask? Not that it looks like he's going to actually be of any help. He seems quite committed to that line."
Ahto retrieves his dagger from the neck of one of the fallen assassins.
"So he's neither alive nor dead, and he doesn't care about pain. We may as well dispose of him. Though I would suggest doin' it the slowest, most painful way we could find, just to make sure he isn't just bragging."
"Actually... I have a question or two."
Edward moves over to get a good look at the creature, leaning over and studying its face.
"If you don't fear pain or death... what do you fear? Is it irrelevance? The idea that your inherently temporary existence may end without you being able to do what you need to do? What about other emotions? Joy, from things other than following your programming? Have you considered the possibility of taking up a hobby?"
"Fear? I do not feel fear. I respect power, perhaps, as any predator respects those above it. If I fail, the contract will be changed or more of us will be sent... perhaps a true Red Mantis, if necessary. That is the way of such things." The assassin wrinkles its face as Edward gets much closer, and furrows its brows when he asks about other emotions. "I feel nothing but the drive to complete my task. I have failed, but it means nothing. I am not alive, and I have not been made to pursue anything but my task. Had I succeeded in killing my target I would have been nothing but dust in the wind, same as I will be soon. I am nothing but a tool, and a more suitable one will be sent if it is deemed necessary."
It sneers at Ahto. "My form with wither and fail, but I feel no pain. I am meant to be disposable."
Varrren watches the proceedings, wracking his mind for any clue about what this creature might be.
"You live, clearly, as my energies earlier harmed you... but you have no proper soul. You can never see the boneyard's queen, nor her unparalleled radiance. Indeed, you can't feel at all."
He frowns.
"I suppose I pity you, my friend. That's a horrible way to exist. May whatever portion of you that passes through the infinite cycles of existence remember this meeting, that we may be friends in the hereafter."
Much like Variel, Varrren only has clues as to what this creature may be. It's clearly some sort of magical construct, but it isn't using any sort of magic he knows of. It seems similar to a simulacrum but clearly isn't; simulacrums are forged of ice or snow, and are always far weaker than the original. While by its own admission this creature is weaker than what it was made to mimic, it seems unlikely that even a Red Mantis Assassin would have such a power simulacrum. Unlike a simulacrum this construct bleeds and doesn't seem to be under direct control of whatever made it. More importantly, those destroyed clearly aren't made of water, and the rust-colored substance they dissolved into look eerily similar to flakes of dried blood.
"I care not for you pity. Do with me what you will, it matters not."
Azulth stands by, his arms folded and his visage grim. He understands Edward's thoughts and comments--this sort of creature poses theological questions, certainly. But these matters of souls are beyond Azulth's concerns at the moment, and he's trained to deal with other things; to him, this is only a disturbing danger that borders on blasphemy. So as the interrogation begins to wrap up, he steps toward Varris.
"Captain, since it seems we might not get much out of this... thing, I'd like to know how you intend to proceed. Frankly, my own thoughts depend on whether we believe the Red Mantis were behind the attack on the Last Disciple's preacher, or if they were simply hired to cover things up." He glances at the construct creature and then back to the captain, his eyes nearly hidden behind his red-violet lenses. "From the sound of things, it's all connected. Looking into the mysterious red-skinned man seems prudent. I'd like to offer my services to assist in such an investigation on behalf of the Pharasmin Church. Any attack of this nature, in broad daylight on the Avenue, concerns our faith."
"It does seem like the man is going to be our only lead at this point. These things aren't giving us any answers and they're certainly not going to talk. And quite frankly, I would also like to volunteer my services. By launching an attack against a member of House Thrune on Chelist territory, they've officially made themselves enemies of the state. And I can't let that slide." He hefts his mace. "Now, does anyone have any further questions or can I dispose of this thing so the janitor can sweep up the dust?"
Edward considers for a moment.
"Nothing further from me. Give it its proper last rites." With a small smile, he turns towards the captain. "I'd like to continue looking into things as well, as a pathfinder. Someone's going to have to write all this down for later."
Tosguld runs his finger through his beard while the interrogation continues. "This whole situation just doesn't sit right with me. Captain Varris, I'm off duty on personal leave and I'd like your permission to aid in this investigation, unofficially. This operation feels like it's going to need to stay under the table."
"I don't know much about the Red Mantis. No one does. But what little I do know suggests this was a contract killing, nothing more. They work for anyone who has the coin and a way to contact them, they don't make personal vendettas. Even if they were behind the attack, I doubt it was for person reasons. Someone else must be pulling the strings." Captain Varris sighs as he looks at the magically-crafted assassin before shaking his head in frustration. He just nods at Mephiston's question, and folds his arms across his chest. "Thank you all for volunteering your help. This is, of course, and official Graycloak matter... but it's likely this will take us beyond the Ascendant Court by a fair margin. I would be a fool to turn down any assistance, from any of you, when it comes to this matter. For now, we will need to hunt down this red-skinned fellow and see what he knows." Captain Varris frowns.
"Now we just need to find a red-skinned man in the busiest district of Absalom when he doesn't want to be found."
Well yes, good luck with that vague and enjoying task. One thing to think about before I go and you get that far is to keep in mind that professional assassin guilds rarely ever accept a failure such as this one. It wouldn't surprise me if the ones responsible for the constructs came looking to finish the job. The timing would have been perfect if not for a warning and the impressive capable hands of everyone in the room. Pyrrha says as she brushes a stray hair from the side of her face back behind her dark pointed ear. Turning sharply, she pauses and looks to watch Ahto with a modicum of anticipation, though her body is angled towards leaving. She did what she came here to do, and it nearly killed her. Now, as it has always been with her, Pyrrha sees the time right to go but something delays her leaving.
"We do make a pretty formidable team, don't we?" Ahto replies, giving Pyrrha a wink. "Perhaps we should hang out long enough for you to get as much of a story as you can outta this unfortunate mark." He looks towards the man with an expression that conveys both sympathy and a sense of better-you-than-me.
"I doubt the Red Bugs'll try a full on assault. This poor wretch'll probably just vanish within an hour of being released, and no one outside of a sewer rat will probably lay eyes on him again..."
Varrren looks at the construct with great interest, speaking absent-mindedly, "I should very much like to know how this was created. It is magic I have not heard of." He raises his voice, speaking to the assassin, "I do not suppose you would be willing to divulge the knowledge of how you where made?"
"I quite agree. The Mantis rarely make things personal, and certainly not over something like this. Though whoever hired them will likely be a fairly influential sort." Mephiston hefts his mace experimentally for a moment. "You're welcome to examine the remains if you wish. Perhaps you'll learn something." And with that he smashes the construct's head in.
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"Gory. You would say chelaxians know a great deal of classy executions..." Variel jokes as the construct's head takes a funny shape
The elf turns to the Captain and starts reloading his irons "If there's any trace of the Red Man in the alley, I can track it. I want in, I mean, Capt'!... plus this way you'll owe us a favour that I sure as hell need." with a smile, Variel turns to Pyrrha "I won't judge you for leaving, m'lady, this is some A grade strange shite going on and I know jackshite about Red Scorpions or whatever they fancy themselves, but it won't be easy neither... that said, I'd be glad to have kin watching my back if you decide to stick around."
"If you want stylish executions, try Galt. I prefer to get my killing done quickly and efficiently."
"We agreed to begin tracking the mysterious 'red man,' and made our way to the alley to let our new elven ally with the strange weapons attempt to track him..."
Edward has pulled out a journal and is already jotting down notes.
Varrren watches the demise of the assassin as if trying to extract every bit of data from it. Indeed, he also pulls out a journal and begins taking notes, going so far as to crouch and examine the powder that is all that remains of the magical creation.
Varrren glances up when Variel mentions tracking the fugitive, "I would also offer my skills to the hunt. This reeks of religious fanaticism and strange magic."
Tosguld misses much of the conversation going on around him as the disappearing form of the assassin commands his full attention. A mixture of horror and disgust spreads across the man's face.
"That's the problem, I'm not sure I'd even have a way to trace them. If you want to look and see if you can find any sign of his passing, by all means. However, I have a sneaking suspicion finding anything of the sort will be difficult if not impossible." Finally relaxing when Mephiston bashes the assassin's skull in, he runs his fingers through the strange flaky material left behind after the assassin, equipment and all, disintegrates. He pulls a few vials from his belt and pockets some of the dust, then sticks them back into a pouch. "I ought to go. I'll have my Graycloaks on the lookout for this man, and I'll see if someone can't investigate this... whatever it is to find out what it is."
"I'm stickin' with you," Ahto replies to Variel. "I can vouch for Pyrrha. She's as smart and tough as they come, and a lot easier on the eyes than my cracked mug," he puts a hand to his chin for emphasis. "But she's also as stubborn as a pit hound on a ham bone. If she decides she isn't coming along, you've no no chance of changing her mind." He gives Pyrrha a crooked smile and a wink.
"Maybe we can work this with your sword-hunt side-by-side. Most of the folks that know what's what in Absalom,the one's who might've seen the sword, most likely'll have some knowledge about the Deisciple. Just sayin'"
"I have a few contacts in town, as well as access to the resources here at the embassy, but I haven't been in the city long enough to establish a good network. If anyone has suggestions on where to go, I'm open to them."
Tosguld turns to Mephiston. "Being a captain of the city guard, I think I know a few people you might like to talk to, sir." The large man suggests with a surprisingly friendly smile surrounded by a gruff beard.
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"Beauty always comes with a prize, innit? Stubborness seems a small one." he jokes after Ahto's comment about Pyrrha, smiling to her "If I can but get a word, one from hard earned experience and years of running... we the long lived have too many years to regret our mistakes... too many years to mourn actions and absences..."
The elf's voice seem to break at the end, but he quickly regains his composure.
"In any cage, I wish you good luck, good knights and joyful daysies, Pyrrha."
"If ya need a hand, count on me." he finishes as he tips an imaginary hat.
Variel listens to the others' suggestions and meditates his part. "I said I can tryna track the Red Man, and I will do so. Capt'n... Tosguld? Innit? I think we should split to do the research, return to share the info afterwards. You know that crime scenes tend to get muddy when half a dozen people walk around willy nilly. Ahto said he comes, any other volunyeer to cover my ass while I'm at it?" he says out loud, furtively looking at Pyrrha and Varrren.
Pyrrha sighs, I don't give two damns about my looks you elf kissers, but even in spite of the ham fisted attempts at compliments, I can still spare a little time putting my nose where it doesn't belong as long as I can keep my hide well clear of this mess even it inevitably blows up in or faces. Ahto barely has much of his left to spare so I suppose I'm preserving a bit of history; the priestesses of his church will be thanking me at least. Pyrrha turns back to the others. I'll go to the scene with you. Take a look maybe where that ledge goes to while we're at it.
Varrren smiles at his old friend, "I will happily accompany you, Variel. It has been a long time since we tackled a problem together."
"I'll come with you too, Variel. If you're trying to track him directly, you may wind up needing a healer."
Ed gives him a nod and a smile.
"And I am a healer, more or less."
"Well then, it seems you all have a plan of action. I need to report to my commander in the Keep. If you find anything, you should head there and I'll meet with you when I can. I'll see what I can find out on my end." Captain Varris gives the group a final nod before heading out the door, leaving the party to plan and discuss their course of action.