Dantrian remains quiet during the remainder of the exchange, allowing B'yelka and Janos to ask their questions. As they make for the house proper, the silver-haired alchemist follows along behind, his inward thoughts hidden behind a familiar, flat mask of stoicism.
Drosil nods at Tibideau's suggestion. "Thank you; at least someone else is concerned about Anton's well-being..." With a quick glance at Dantrian, he begins the descent from the Schloss' high tower, hoping to reach Anton before any other misfortune befalls him.
Tibideau says, "So are we going back to Lepidstadt, or what guys?"
"Dear Anton! I knew you'd be safe!" With an unseemly affection B'yelka gives the Desnan a big hug, squeezing him for all he's worth. "But enough of that," she releases Anton and continues, "Your brother has been worried about you - there were almost tears!" The Diva scoffs, "As if you weren't as safe in the shade of Desna's wings as you are with us." There, now Dros knows I care too.
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As the group reunites with their soggy Desnan, Dantrian locks eyes with Anton from across the small crowd and offers him a simple, affirming nod. Secure in more comfortable chambers, he spends some time evaluating the physical condition of those present, giving the count, Janos, and Drosil's leg special attention. He takes his time and, while some of his jabs and prods are uncomfortable, he is patient and thorough.
Once satisfied that the others are in decent enough shape and that their various traumas won't cause lasting complications, he turns to the count and asks simply, "Have you a mirror nearby, Count? A full length one would be best, if one is available." The count nods and gestures to an adjoining room. Dantrian excuses himself and closes the door behind him, only leaving it slightly ajar.
Striking a lamp, he disrobes before the mirror and examines himself and the damage to his body. His whole torso is a brownish bruise, mottled with purple and black sploches. He inhales sharply as he tests each of his ribs with a stiff jab. The flesh turns bleach white as he applies the pressure, then swiftly reverts in color as he pulls his hand away.
The ribs have knit. Good. He takes a long, deep breath and holds it for a ten count before releasing it slowly. Lungs are intact as well. I am sure one was punctured by that massive creature though. Was it B'yelka's magics or Tibideau's that repaired my organs so?
He looks up at his reflection as he thinks, locking eyes with it. The image shifts in his mind's eye and takes on the fully lupine form of his curse before grinning wickedly back at him.
Dantrian scoffs as he stares at the mirror. You are not real.
A frown creeps onto the alchemist's face which slowly darkens into a scowl.
Anger mixes with shame in Dantrian's eyes as his gaze stays fixed on the image in the mirror, flickering in the lamp light.
---
A short time later, the lamp light in the adjacent room goes out and Dantrian returns, pulling a loose tunic gingerly over his head as he enters. He looks at the count and states, "If you would be amenable, Count, I think it may be mutually beneficial for you and I to compare notes on our respective areas of research. Perhaps we could each profit from one other's findings."
Despite his wet clothing Anton returns B'yelka's hug fiercely. Over her shoulder and through a cloud of her red hair he meets Dantrian's gaze and answers his nod with a smile and a wink.
It's good to see you in one piece, Dantrian. I feared my healing burst wouldn't have been enough. And you lady, he says pulling away from the diva. I owe you my life.
He greets the others with a clap on the shoulder for Dros and Janos and a laugh at Tibideaus expression at his sodden clothes looking as he does like a tramp just in from the rain.
He listens as they recap the Counts tale.
What do we know about the Shudderwood? It sounds a fearful place. Regardless I need to get out if these clothes before I catch a chill.
Shudderwood? How droll. He's right though, he needs dry clothes. Still, his arms feel right like this - uh? What did I - Game face, Girl! Beaming at their absolute fortune she says, "One night here, and then to Lepidstadt, then the woods? We have some shopping to do and I don't think we can take no for an answer for these things." She winks at Janos, "Besides I think our swamp rat needs to see his lady friend before we jump into the breach again."
Anton struggles to strip the wet shirt from his lean body but finally manages to do so and hangs it roughly and particularly inefficiently over the fire.
His hair has grown longer over the past two months and hangs beneath the nape of his neck. For now he is happy to simply brush it back out of his face and rub his hands together before the fire.
For a second, Dros, I thought I was a goner. When that thing threw me and the earth fell away, my stomach just about did a flip. I only wish I could have had one more shot at it before I fell. It is a sick mind that could conceive of such a thing... he says, despite the Count's presence. Especially when Aaron is a creature that learns and feels and loves like any child. Why you felt the need to spawn that... thing.... he shakes his head. Perhaps you have to be a man of learning to get it.
Janos, would you mind loaning me a shirt until mine is dry, I'd rather be covered when there are ladies present. he says with somewhat uncharacteristic bashfulness.
Drosil shakes his head, "You weren't the only one, Anton; seeing you falling, with Dantrian and Janos both taken down by that thing, I figured it was only a matter of time before we were all lost." He glances at Tibideau, "If it weren't for those creatures of yours, things could have gone quite differently...thank you."
His gaze shifts to encompass the others as well, then drops. "Thank you all, actually. I...I feel as though, throughout this whole ordeal, beginning with the Professor's funeral, you have all been saving me, one time after another. Seeing you all sacrificing yourselves this time..." He sighs, then continues, "I am constantly reminded that there is very little that I bring to this group that isn't brought in greater portion by someone else. I have no magical ability, nor greater skill at arms than any but Tibideau and B'yelka," He smiles apologetically at them.
"I realize that we are a team, brought together by the Professor, and I will not leave it as long as you'll all have me, but the way things are going, I can't help but feel that I will owe you each many more thanks before this plays out." With that, he stands and, waving off any attempts at comfort, makes his way into one of the bedrooms and closes the door.
As the group reunites with their soggy Desnan, Dantrian locks eyes with Anton from across the small crowd and offers him a simple, affirming nod. Secure in more comfortable chambers, he spends some time evaluating the physical condition of those present, giving the count, Janos, and Drosil's leg special attention. He takes his time and, while some of his jabs and prods are uncomfortable, he is patient and thorough.
[dice=Cruel Anatomist (heal, take 20)]20+13
Once satisfied that the others are in decent enough shape and that their various traumas won't cause lasting complications, he turns to the count and asks simply, "Have you a mirror nearby, Count? A full length one would be best, if one is available." The count nods and gestures to an adjoining room. Dantrian excuses himself and closes the door behind him, only leaving it slightly ajar.
Striking a lamp, he disrobes before the mirror and examines himself and the damage to his body. His whole torso is a brownish bruise, mottled with purple and black sploches. He inhales sharply as he tests each of his ribs with a stiff jab. The flesh turns bleach white as he applies the pressure, then swiftly reverts in color as he pulls his hand away.
The ribs have knit. Good. He takes a long, deep breath and holds it for a ten count before releasing it slowly. Lungs are intact as well. I am sure one was punctured by that massive creature though. Was it B'yelka's magics or Tibideau's that repaired my organs so?
He looks up at his reflection as he thinks, locking eyes with it. The image shifts in his mind's eye and takes on the fully lupine form of his curse before grinning wickedly back at him.
Dantrian scoffs as he stares at the mirror. You are not real.
A frown creeps onto the alchemist's face which slowly darkens into...
The count nods at Dantrian's request. "Much of my research has been destroyed, but you are welcome to view what remains at your leisure."
Anton struggles to strip the wet shirt from his lean body but finally manages to do so and hangs it roughly and particularly inefficiently over the fire.
His hair has grown longer over the past two months and hangs beneath the nape of his neck. For now he is happy to simply brush it back out of his face and rub his hands together before the fire.
For a second, Dros, I thought I was a goner. When that thing threw me and the earth fell away, my stomach just about did a flip. I only wish I could have had one more shot at it before I fell. It is a sick mind that could conceive of such a thing... he says, despite the Count's presence. Especially when Aaron is a creature that learns and feels and loves like any child. Why you felt the need to spawn that... thing.... he shakes his head. Perhaps you have to be a man of learning to get it.
Janos, would you mind loaning me a shirt until mine is dry, I'd rather be covered when there are ladies present. he says with somewhat uncharacteristic bashfulness.
"I do not know how I was able to create Aaron. The Promethean was an attempt to recreate the processes that lead to Aaron's intelligence, and also to test out several new theories about nerve splicing, the balancing of humors from different creatures and an attempt to make a perfect guardian for my work. When the creature turned out to be an insane brute, of course I restrained in inside an adamantine cage. I never knew the Whispering Way would come here."
Dantrian sighs lightly. "The Whispering Way is immaterial in this case, Count. Simply put, cages break." The admission weighs on the alchemist, though he offers no further comment or elaboration.
The count shrugs. "I am but a man, imperfect in my nature. I can rely only on the forgiveness of the gods, and my future good works as penance for my past mistakes."
"Dantrian, what do you think? The Judge's order could help him keep his promise."
Caromarc says, "When you're ready to enter the Shudderwood, there is a hidden path leading from the Schloss into the forest. It's likely that the Way took that path when they fled here."
I don't think any of us are quite ready for pursuit yet. I need to restock on arrows if nothing else, mine barely seemed to penetrate that thing, do you know why that would be Dantrian? Besides, the Judge wanted to know what was happening here so we have to report back to her.
He moves beside Drosil and puts a hand on his shoulder;
Dros, to go through what you did in the gatehouse and come through the other side is one of the bravest things I've ever seen. You have strength you don't give yourself credit for. I fear all of us are going to see even greater dangers before this is through and so long as we are together I am sure we will prevail.
Dantrian inclines his head as he considers Janos' question. Easing himself gingerly into a seat, he settles himself before steepling his fingers before his chin. "I do not think the Count needs to be monitored by the Order. Moreover, not only do I think their monitoring would prove rather ineffective, I am also leery of how the judge pressed for the secret to controlling the Be-" Dantrian stalls, then concedes with a nod, "-controlling Aaron." He turns to the count directly and adds, "That being said, if the Order would accept you into their ranks, Count, I think it would be mutually beneficial for you all. I also suspect that, as their colleague, you would be better positioned to protect your son. We can put in a word with Daramid, if you would like."
"As for the Promethean's otherworldly resilience, Anton, I can only guess it had something to do with how the various components were treated and preserved. The course of my studies did not afford me much time to familiarize myself with the intracies of golemcraft, I am afraid."
"Count, would you be interested in possibly joining such an Order? We would need to speak to the Judge on your behalf. I think Dantrian can explain your studies to her." He looks around. "What if we speak to her and then bring her here for a discussion? She can explain her group and what she is prepared to offer. If it's suitable to you, then you can agree. If not, then perhaps she has an alternative."
As the conversation wends on through the evening and the events of the past several days are shared, Dantrian rises, very stiffly, during one of the natural breaks and roots around in his bag for a moment, eventually rising with the shredded uniform they'd found mixed in the barricade by the schloss' front gate. Additionally, he unstraps the staff they'd found and hands it to Tibideau for inspection.
Turning to the count, Dantrian offers the torn fabric. "Is this familiar at all to you, Count? We found it, along with some cowering goblins who scurried off, heaped by your front gate by the trolls." He also makes a point to inquire about the glass canisters the group found by the empty crates deeper in the schloss.
"That is the uniform of one of my former house guardsmen, now all dead I presume. Those jars are best left closed, they contain hazardous materials," the Count replies. "As for this mysterious order you mention, I would of course consider membership, should it be beneficial to me."
To go through all this demonstrates just how important that Effigy is to the Way. I just wish we knew what it was so we could get out ahead of them for once.
"Maybe we should go back to the university where it was stolen. When we started this we thought Aaron had stolen it. Now that we know it was the Whispering Way, perhaps there are other clues we had missed."
-Posted with Wayfinder
Anton thinks this over;
Well we know that the Way used Aaron to steal it for them. And probably used his subsequent awakening and rampage as a distraction away from the true intention. If I recall correctly, nothing else was missing so it seems however they accomplished it, the Effigy was the sole purpose of the robbery.
It seems to me that the Shudderwood is our only strong lead. Anton says, pulling his now dried shirt back over his head. I say we head back to Lepistadt to report in with the Judge, rearm and ride for the Wood with all haste!
Janos nods. "Let's see what the Judge has to say. Hopefully she can close this business and provide Aaron and the Count a measure of sanctuary."
The group rests quite comfortably overnight in the Schloss. The count shows the Six how he has permanent unseens servants flitting about the place to act as staff. He gives them permission to command the creatures, and provides them with fresh clothing, hot baths and all the food they desire. In the morning, the Six are much refreshed and make their way back to Lepidstadt. It is early afternoon before they arrive in the city. They head to the courthouse square and knock on the door to Judge Daramid's residence. She's not currently in, but her butler sends a messenger to summon her from her office, and sets out tea and pastries for the guests in the sitting room while they wait. A while later the the judge comes into the house. She smiles at the sight of the Six all alive, and then comes into the sitting room.
She sits in one of the empty chairs. "It's good to see you all again. Pray, do tell what transpired at Schloss Caromarc."
"These pastries are delightful! The judge does have exquisite taste. It's nice to be back somewhere civilized."
When the judge enters, B'yelka offers a curtsy, "It is a pleasure to see you again, too, your Honor." She waits assuming Dantrian wil address her. They seemed to get along well enough in our last meetings. Or maybe Anton?
The Schloss was nothing that we expected, your honor. Anton says grimly, politely declining the tea and pastries. The Whispering Way had been there and set all manner of insidious traps or else taken advantage of the Counts own existing defenses
The place is secure now, free of the Counts horrific experiments, save for Aaron himself. But I worry for the Counts state of mind.... The things he had created there...
Still, we have new leads on the Way and will soon take to the road again.
"That is grave news indeed...Were you able to determine if the Whispering Way was behind the Beast's theft of the Seasage Effigy? If so, how did they do it? Me and my order can't have something laying around that can take control of a creature as dangerous as Aaron." The judge replies, clasping her hands worriedly.
Aye, your honor. It certainly seems that way. Anton continues. The Count created a machine to control the Beast and it seems the Whispering Way subverted it for their own means, namely to steal the Effigy. Thoigh we still don't know why.
Aaron is a gentle creature by nature. And should the Count follow through on his promise to destroy the mmachine, then there will be no danger to Fear from them.
Dantrian nods and adds, "Speaking of your order, Judge, while I do not presume to know how you select members, I do think it would behoove you to consider folding Count Caromarc into your ranks. His research and experiments, while largely driven by sorrow, seemed to be motivated in equal parts by a genuine thirst for knowledge. I think there is much your Order might learn from him and, for his part, having reasonable colleagues with whom he could discuss his findings might help him from wandering too far afield in his experiments." He pauses, letting the judge absorb his suggestion.
"You had also agreed to share with us any knowledge your Order might have regarding the Whispering Way. Were you able to find anything for us? While we have a lead, more knowledge of our quarry can only help."
Why is Tibideau so distracted? What's on his mind? B'yelka sits with Tibi and listens to the boys describe the events at Schloss Caromarc. What could I say that wouldn't incriminate the man? With so much on her mind, quiet suits her well. And at least we got to stop by our rooms and change! How could we make an appearance here dressed in near rags?
Janos nods at Dantrian's suggestion. "Yes, I think your Order could help guide the Count and give him someone to turn to if he feels the need to begin his experiments again. As he did these experiments to try to bring his wife back, he could be tempted again if anything happens to Aaron."
"Now that we know for certain that the Whispering Way was involved in the theft of the Seasage Effigy, we are greatly concerned. The cult reveres undeath as a means of transcendence, and has disturbing
connections to the Whispering Tyrant, Tar-Baphon. This challenges the Order's primary purpose for existence - protecting Ustalav from threats both within and without. I have been authorized to offer your group a payment of 6,000 gold pieces to track down and stop the Way from doing whatever it is they plan to do. Helping the Order in this way might pave the way for your own initiation into the mysteries of the society, should you continue to prove loyal and able," the Judge says. "As for Count Caromarc...we will ensure that he is no longer a threat to the region. As long as he keeps his promises to you, he will be left in peace. But otherwise...Well, let's hope that doesn't happen. We are not however in the practice of enlisting mad scientists into our ranks."
Tibideau does indeed appear to be distracted. He looks like he wants to say something, but doesn't want to interrupt their business with the judge. Maybe after the meeting he will spill the beans about what's bothering him.
"If you are so quick to dismiss the Count then I am rather confident I would not be welcome amongst your number either, Judge. A pity. While I feel a broader view of candidates would only benefit you in this respect, your Order's standards are its own, of course." He sweeps his hands in front of him, palms upward in a gesture of capitulation. His tone makes it plain he doesn't mean to argue the point despite the fact he thinks it a mistake. Steepling his fingers once more, he glances to the others then back to Daramid, "As far as the Whispering Way is concerned, our aims align once more. The others, I am sure, will eagerly accept your offer of cooperation."
"If you are so quick to dismiss the Count then I am rather confident I would not be welcome amongst your number either, Judge. A pity. While I feel a broader view of candidates would only benefit you in this respect, your Order's standards are its own, of course." He sweeps his hands in front of him, palms upward in a gesture of capitulation. His tone makes it plain he doesn't mean to argue the point despite the fact he thinks it a mistake. Steepling his fingers once more, he glances to the others then back to Daramid, "As far as the Whispering Way is concerned, our aims align once more. The others, I am sure, will eagerly accept your offer of cooperation."
"The count's recklessness alone would disqualify him. We wouldn't dream of forcing you into anything Mr. Almaeus, but your curse wouldn't be a barrier to entry if that's what you're referring to. You have proven yourself worthy thus far, and I have little doubt you will continue to do so."
Dantrian shrugs, seemingly unphased by Daramid's knowledge of his condition. "That is kind of you to say, your Honor, but I fear your confidence is misplaced. Recklessness is but a sort of lost self control, and it is only a matter of time before I lose control as well. And I suspect the results of my lapse could prove far more harrowing than the Count's misguided experiments."
B'yelka rolls her eyes at Dantrian's angst. There is the Mister Almaeus that no one invites anywhere. She hides her smirk with a timely sip of tea.
Your honor, we are all aware of Dantrians condition. But as a friend and ally, we travel together knowing that should the worst occur we can deal with it. he says this somewhat sadly and his eyes flick guiltily between Dantrian and B'yelka. Can your organisation not do the same? For Desna's sake, at least talk to the man before you pass judgement.
Your honor, we are all aware of Dantrians condition. But as a friend and ally, we travel together knowing that should the worst occur we can deal with it. he says this somewhat sadly and his eyes flick guiltily between Dantrian and B'yelka. Can your organisation not do the same? For Desna's sake, at least talk to the man before you pass judgement.
The judge frowns at Anton. "I'll thank you not to tell me my business Mr. Klasnic. First, you tell me you are worried for the count's "state of mind". Then you warn of his "horrific experiments" too terrible to put into words. Yet, you scold me for not wanting to invite him into a secret society sworn to prevent just that sort of thing?" The stern woman raises one eyebrow. She wears an expression of hard authority forged from years of sitting on the tribunal bench. "I should have him up on charges for violating a half dozen laws, I'm sure. But I have enough respect for your group's opinion to accept your assurances that he will no longer be a threat. I insist you extend me the same respect when it comes to my judgement calls. The grand Esoteric Order of the Palantine Eye is not in the business of babysitting emotionally unstable noblemen, and we never will be. That is final." She glares at Anton a bit longer to make sure he understands very clearly he is annoying her. Then she smiles, and pretends nothing happened. "So, you will accept our contract?"
Anton returns the glare without flinching. The woman seems to use the law and her on position in a manner as fickle as the wind. A thing he likes not at all.
The laws he has violated are of your land. I don't deem to tell you your business but you told us to go there because you were concerned about the activities there. We've told you of the horrors he has created in his misguided way. Now you want to wash your hands of it.
The man needs help, or at best monitoring. He is experimenting on thinning the boundary between life and death, obsessed with bring back his wife. We have his word that he will cease these experiments and that good enough for me. But I am just a traveller and a man of faith, not a learned judge like yourself.
He mirrors Dantrians conciliatory gesture.
So your Order should do as they see fit. Now, you said you had information on the Whispering Way. I am glad to have helped Aaro, but my friends killers are still out there. he says impatiently.
The meeting with the judge ends on a somewhat chilly note, but with the Six carrying a heavy sack of platinum coins. Tibideau speaks up, "Guys, we need to talk."
After returning to their inn, he rents a private dining room for the evening and sits down with everyone. "I know we just found out what happened with the Way, and got a new job....but, I can't go with you. I received a sending just after we left the Schloss. It's my mother. She's....she's dying. The clerics say there's nothing they can do for her, and that she doesn't have much time left." Tibideau looks anguished. Then he shrugs, "I have to go home and see her before she passes into Pharasma's hands."
Tibideau... Anton says, for once the words not coming easily. He moves to the witch. For all his drama and flamboyance, he is a good man at heart and has risked his life just as all of them have.
Anton places his hand on Tibi's shoulder.
I'm truly sorry. Sometimes with this crusade we're on I forget that most of us have families and lives beyond this. I lost my parents when I was very young so I know how you must be feeling. You should be with her for as long as you can be, my friend and treasure those moments as I will treasure the moments we have spent together.
Drosil blinks, his vision blurry. "You have saved my life so many times. Even when I had known you less than a day, in the attack on Kendra's house. The Professor surely knew what he was doing when he named you in his will. You, your mad cackling, and those creatures you summon, I cannot imagine how we would have survived without your assistance." He steps forward and embraces Tibideau. "Take care of yourself, Tibideau, and of your mother - I understand; we all do." He turns, then, and walks some distance away to wait for the others to finish their farewells.
Dantrian's lips draw into a tight line at Tibideau's news, but his expression otherwise maintains its typically stony flatness. "You have my sincerest condolences, Mister LeClerc. You should know that you have proven yourself to be a fast and capable ally; your absence will be keenly felt. I can only wish you safe travels and hope that Taldor will be kinder to you than wherever else our road wanders." He nods to the flamboyant witch then and adds, "Should you ever have need of us, I trust that you and Bonbon will find the means to call on us." His face still a mask of stoicism, he then extends his hand to shake Tibideau's. "Tibideau." And with that, Dantrian's farewell is complete and the alchemist shifts back to allow Janos and, in particular, B'yelka, their space to part company.