Viper in a Basket - Round 1 - concluded
After the viper sinks it's fangs into the ranger, Culsar attempts to hex the poor snake, but it shakes off the bad luck effect.
End of Round 1
Viper in a Basket - Round 2
20 Banon
19 Fencil
14 Kellean
11 Castien
10 Viper
3 Culsar
Neither Banon's mailed fist or Fencil's blade can hit the shifty snake.
After Fencil hits the snake, Castien follows up, and the creature is surely subdued. Kellean stabilizes it, thereafter.
Now that the threat is gone, Fencil tips the basket over and retrieves the blue stone key.
Upon closer examination, the blue stone key is etched with strange runes and glyphs that seem to match the keyhole of the red lacquered chest.
Taking a chance, Fencil sets the key to the lock, and before he can even turn it, the lid of the chest opens. Inside is a key forged to the end of an exquisitely jeweled scepter.
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Culsar is more interested in the scepter that he is the key at the end of it. What do we have here? Culsar will pick it up and examine it.
Hmph! Just a mere trinket. Costume jewelry. Why leave this inside a locked chest? They must be worried our methods would be more damaging.
With that, Culsar will try to open the chest in the middle with the newly found key.
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Shaking his head in response to Fenchil's suggestion, Banon instead unslung his bow as he drew back and readied an arrow to cut the string holding the golden key.
"Ye can focus oan 'at chest while Ah try tae gie us 'at golden key."
Taking careful aim, the ranger loosed an arrow to try cutting the key down from a safe distance.
The shot by Banon is true, and the golden key is deftly caught by Kellean. Meanwhile, Culsar is frusttrated to find that the jeweled scepter/key does not fit either fo the two remaining unopened chests (copper-banded and steel chests).
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Seeing Culsar's frustration, Fenchil says Don't worry - this other key will probably fir somewhere I hope.
Fenchil is trying to keep his cool, but a sheen of nervousness is shining through I didn't notice that key dangling, what else might I have missed?, then has a good look around to see if he missed something obvious.
There remain two chests, a copper-banded chest. And a steel box. And you have two keys, one attached to a jeweled scepter, and another golden key from the ceiling.
Tell me what you do next, it's a little unclear from the discussion above.
Banon Will Save: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19
As you touch the chest, you see it's outline shimmer, shake and disappear for a moment, before re-appearing solidly again. Your eyes want to believe, but your mind tells you this chest is an illusion, and isn't really there.
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So if that chest is a trick, and the sceptre didn't fit on the steel chest, then it's likely that the gold key does. Mind if I try?
Fenchil - impatiently, slightly frustrated for his lack of usefulness and his discomfort of being trapped indoors - will try and grab the golden key to use it on the steel chest.
Fencil rams the golden key into the steel cube and he is not particularly surprised when it turns with a click. Opening the cube, he is surprised when the skin on his arms, hands and face turns a deep royal blue, courtesy of a magical trap upon opening.
The blue stuff is harmless, just a dye, and inside the box is the map of the Salhar burial vaults beneath Sothis and a wand.
Turning to leave, you find the door still locked behind you.
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Oh my, Culsar says as the trap goes off and is unable to add anything further. I guess that serves as a reminder to check things for traps before opening them.... not that I'm being critical or anything. I'd have done the same thing I think.
Culsar then adds, Well, the key on the scepter has to be for something. Give it a try... maybe make sure the door isn't trapped first?
The bejeweled key does indeed open the door to the room (and thankfully there are no traps involved).
Outside the guard/steward who led you here awaits. He looks askance at the smurf-like Fenchil but otherwise is ready to lead you from the room.
"The Sage Amenopheus has gone to take care of business for the Grand Councilmember. He regrets not being here to see you himself, but bids you to keep the map and the wand. He does request you return all keys to me before you go about your business."
After a few twists and turns, the steward leads you back outside the palace and bids you farewell. Looking at the list from VC Valsin, you see that you have but one chore left: recovering a loaned item from the Chelish Paracountess Dralneen.
Making your way to the Ivy District and to the home of the Paracountess, you find it to be a magnificent gothic structure three stories tall.The ebon double doors have wrought silver fixtures and a brass door chime.
Moments after ringing, a servant appears, greeting you as if expected. He leads you through well-appointed sitting rooms, ballrooms, and up a grand staircase to the third floor. There he knocks on a darkly-stained door, announcing your presence.
Opening the door, he shows you into a private study with a large intricate carpet dominating the floor. A chaise sits along the north wall, and a desk spans the southwest corner. Sitting in the chair behind the counter is the Paracountess Zarta Dralneen.
She speaks while her eyes rove over you each in turn:"Aldor, you are dismissed. Close the door behind you and attend to your other tasks." She then turns her attention to the group. "It’s always so incredibly adorable when I see a fresh-faced batch of Pathfinders. I mean, look at you scrumptious little teacakes. I could eat each and every one of you up. Well, maybe not you." Zarta points at the blue-hued Fenchil. "I assume this isn't a pleasure visit since most of you are terribly overdressed for that manner of occasion, so that must mean you are here for that trinket Valsin has been nagging me about. Seems I can’t get that man around these parts anymore," she gestures, sliding her hand down her body and widening the gesture to sweep out and across the room as if her home were a secondary thought. "On the good side, he always sends me all the precious new recruits."
"Many think we in Cheliax serve and worship devils, but that couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, we use the creatures for their power. They serve us and we sculpt their power in our own interests. The world must come to terms with the order of things. People need to know their place and operate accordingly. It is the only way to make order from this world. Too many people stretch too far beyond their station, making waves and eroding the true order."
While the countess speaks, an extended eruption of noises explodes from the door behind her. She inclines her head toward the sound. "A servant is greatly misbehaving in my boudoir. You will have to deal with it in order to get the trinket you seek." She reaches into the desk and draws out an exquisite silver letter opener shaped like a dagger. "You may need this to get it to submit."
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As they leave the room, Kellean looks very seriously and sincerely at the servant, telling him, "The snake is stable but, I'm afraid, is still injured, and it will likely require more medical attention. Please, see that it is properly cared for."
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Kellean is quietly saddened and disappointed by Dralneen's speech, but too timid to express her disapproval as ... well, it isn't 'her place'. Though I "stretch too far beyond my station", becoming a priestess of Sarenrae and a Pathfinder, she thinks, I am still holding myself back here, as assuredly as if I drew the lines for her.
Despite herself, she reflexively accepts the offered silver dagger-letter opener and - worse - sincerely thanks Dralneen for it. 'Even good habits, and the habits of the good, are hard to change,' as mother says.
"Paracountess Dralneen, may I ask what you can tell us about why your servant wants this 'trinket' so badly? Or, perhaps rather, hates it?" She pauses for a moment, going over the Paracountess's speech, before reaching a stunning, reluctant conclusion. Could she mean...? Could it really be?! "And what kind of servant is it?"
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What the devil is that? the blue-skinned ranger asks upon hearing the sounds, hoping he is not answering his own question. Cheliax. Would the rumours be true? Surely, creatures of law, but with a vile taint of corruption!
Fenchil looks questioningly at Kellean and her letter opener. Silver. If that truly is what is needed, his hand reflexively moving to his rapier, touching the hilt then this is useless.
Drawing a deep sigh, he wait for any useful information from Zarta, but prepares for the worst - and mentally readies to go in.
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Banon began to visibly get paler and physically become twitchier as the group neared the Paracountess' lodgings. And at the sound of her sultry, come-hither voice, the veteran ranger let loose a shudder as Fion, who had been resting happily on his shoulder, suddenly took flight in fear.
"Mah quine...a-al-always a pleasure."
The fear he had for this woman and her insatiable appetite was quite visible, though that didn't stop Banon from attempting to hide it from her eyes.
He really just wanted to be done with it as quick as possible...or so the look he gave his fellow Pathfinders seemed to say.
The sultry countess purrs her acknowledgement to Banon. "The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure." she whispers suggestively.
Responding to Kellean's questions, she is not nearly as receptive, and a bit cold. "Who knows why these creatures do anything. At any rate, best of luck, I'll be waiting." And she walks out of the study with a flourish.
Opening the door to where the din is emanating, the group see's that Zarta's bedroom is decorated in the colors of Cheliax--ebon black and crimson red. Silk, rare woods, and carefully carved marble compose every bit of furniture in the room. Goose down now litters the room, covering almost every surface and the silken shreds of the cushions that contained it lie about like flayed skin. A post on the massive screened bed is snapped in half, collapsed on the bed and drawing the screened curtains into a ripped slope of formerly fine cloth. Vials of perfume and crystal jars of other cosmetics sit smashed on the marble floor around the dresser. A prominent fixture in the room, a large "X" made of stout wood sits along the west wall, complete with leather shackles and chains. A table sits to its left strewn with various items intended for pleasure, but outwardly resembling implements of pain.
Sitting on the floor near the smashed bed is a winged and horned beast ferociously smashing a small metal box against the floor repeatedly.
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Kellean, mostly self-trained in the role of priest, growing up without the official church hierarchy, is unschooled regarding such threats. She loads a bolt of cold iron with a silver blanch into her crossbow, hoping that will be sufficient.
Kellean tries to reason with the furious creature. "Give us the box and you will not be harmed! We have no interest in what goes on here, or between you and your mistress."
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Fnechil moves into the room, which immediately gives him the shivers that is a messed up place, right here While Culsar and Kellean converse with the summoned creature,
Fenchil looks around the room my father sometimes summoned creatures - he always made sure he had some way of banishment ready in case something went wrong
Culsar recognizes the creature as an Imp, a tiny devilish outsider, prone to pranks and other fits of pique. His speech to the enraged devil nor any of your attempts to engage it in discussion have any effect. The creature is clearly obsessed with the metal box. As you watch, he throws it against the wall then rushes to it, stomping with his tiny feet.
Fenchil sees no means of banishing the imp in this room.