Lorena waits tensely behind Khaz.
[/ooc]
Lets do this, the Party can move in this order. Khaz, Jocasts, Lorena, Terry, Firinn, Rio. I will rejig the order based on that, please put actions. Khaz your still baout 15' from the bottom
This was bad. Khaz felt like his arms and legs were made out of stone. Even walking was hard. His armor dragged him down. And yet...he was a paladin. He had oaths to fulfill. He couldn’t let this stop him. Putting his entire heart into it, he charged forward.
Even getting there was tiring. A voice in his head screamed that this was futile. But...what choice did he have? He just had to hope that his companions could deal with the foe without him. He really didn’t know how long he could keep this up.
Jocasta waits for the party to advance into the room below, taking her position of rear guard seriously.
Jocasta waits for the party to advance into the room below, taking her position of rear guard seriously.
Jocasta waits for the party to advance into the room below, taking her position of rear guard seriously.
The Group makes their way down the stairs, slowly moving as to avoid any more "traps" reaching the bottom the room opens up to be the entire size of the floor above minus the entrance way you passed through. In the basemen is what looks like a clerks office, boxes that stand mostly empty from what you can see and a Tiefling man brandishing a Morning star in one hand a Heavy crossbow in reach. Behind him is a Large Bulls head on the wall.
This is a Brazen Head, an item crafted by followers of Baphomet
"Well I assume you have brough nothing new for the Archives?" The Tiefling man says with a smile before he utters a word and the entire room fills with tick fog.
Fog Cloud
Seeing the creature fill the room with fog, Firinn curses and retreats a few paces up the stairs. "Fall back! Fall back!"
He can't say Draw him out but he's hoping that Khaz and Jocasta at least will catch on...
”Aye.” Khaz held the rear as they fell back. He opened up his senses to detect evil, so he’d at least know when foes came.
Following Firinn's directions, Jocasta starts heading back up the stairs, keeping her sword out and between her and... whatever it is that has Firinn so panicked.
<Baphomet again...look out, that thing on the wall gives him an advantage down there.>" Lorena mutters (in Abyssal) as she backs up.
'Falling back? How very noble of you, this allows me to work unimpeeded." The voice says.
Khaz can "see" the presence of an evil figure, he is unsure of how strong the figure is until he concentrates more.
As everyone retreats back up the stairs, a wave a heat rolls out at the party.
Jocasta winces and manages to press herself against the wall to avoid the brunt of the blast.
Leaning to one side of the narrow passage, Lorena is entirely unaffected by the hot air.
The flames likewise washed over Khaz, and did no damage.
”Bastard is right, it isn’t noble. Luckily those quasits had more powerful spells than that. Let’s wait up top. Let the fog clear out rather than let him goad us into a trap.”
"You plan to wait me out? Interesting." The voice says out of the fog.
Stepping into Lorena's shadow, Terry avoids the damaging aspects of the wave of heat completely.
"Why not? You're the one with other places to be, other people to kill, right? We should be able to get some tea started if you want some?"
"Some sugar then please, I never said I had place to be or People to kill. I don't kill people, I just lead the subterfuge." The Teifling says
Khaz had no idea what to make of the tiefling. Was he telling the truth? Was he smugly waiting? Was he stalling for time himself? He just had no idea.
"Y'know, this is my first time talking to a demon worshiper. So why not...what's yer deal? Why're ye putting so much effort into getting everyone in our city horribly killed, and eventually leaving the rest of our world as part of the lower planes?"
"Keep him talking, aye? Wizardy-folks don't have unlimited spells. And I'm feeling as weak as a gnome right now from the one that hit me. Best to wait it out."
"They offer a compelling deal, server them and live, oppose them and die? It doesn't take much thought on which side I would like to be on." The voice drifts up the stairs.
"Then yer a fool! Came across one of yer safe houses destroyed by the demons. They care not one whit for ye or any other of their slaves. Even worse for ye, what happens when ye die? Our souls are judged by Pharasma. I know that mine, regardless of my death, will go to Bolka. Ye? Ye'll live only so long as ye be useful, and only at their whim. And when ye're dead? Ye'll have bargained a few years of comfort for an eternity of torment. Some fookin' trade that is!"
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Jocasta lets her sword droop a bit and fumbles around in her pouch for a trail snack.
Around a mouthful of dry nuts she says, "Y'know it's too bad you don't have a back door out of there. You could've just scooted out while we waited for the fog to dissipate. Instead you decided, I dunno, to stick it out and try to talk down to a bunch of crusaders. Well, your head, I guess."
She swallows and continues, "You know of course that the moment someone gets one over on you, your own 'side' will kill you. And sad to say, the fact that you don't have a back exit tells me you aren't as smart as they are."
She raises her sword again and regards the dull, flat surface of the cold iron, without the shine of polished steel, as she taunts, "But, y'know, we don't have to be geniuses to stave in your skull."
"For somene who is on the side of "good"" He drags that would out making it known that some of the comments don't appear very nice "you do make threats to someone you don't know."
There is a bit of a pause.
"This post was not of my choosing, the old leader of this group tried to steal something that didn't belong to him and died for it. I was in the moment of packing up and leaving. I am going to assume you have visited some of the other safe houses, did you visit the alchemist shop? He did leave a nice surprise." The voice doesn't raise in glee like one would think.
"My soul will be judged on my actions, who knows maybe Pharasma will judge me and I will go somewhere where I won't be tortured."
"There's time you know." Firinn speaks from the back, his voice sad. "We can all find forgiveness. I should know."
He pushes down the stairs and rolls up the long sleeves of his shirt, revealing feathered arms, covered in scars and missing feathers.
"I did this all to myself." He says, partly to the figure hidden in the fog, and partly to the group. "I saw what I was, what I am, as wrong, as evil. I came to Kenabres to escape and I feel in with a group who have done far worse things than you. They revelled in pain and suffering, caused as much as they could just to enjoy the screams. I liked it, I wanted to be part of it, because they accepted me, and the pain made me feel like my suffering was justified, like I was fixing myself. When the time came I volunteered to be the sacrifice - to host a kyton! I was so warped, so twisted by that cult that I was going to sacrifice my soul and count it a blessing."
He pauses and breathes deeply a few times, the emotion raw in his tone. "It failed; and I lived. I screamed at the stars in hate and Desna forgave me. She healed me - on the inside. I kept the scars. I need the scars. To remind me. It doesn't matter who you are, and it doesn't matter what you've done. Do the right thing today, turn you back on Baphomet and these people. Then you can be someone new, someone who doesn't have to burn."
His speech done Firinn just stands there, both arms exposed and facing the fog cloud so that the Man in the mist can see them, if he chooses.
Listening to the banter, Terry's obviously surprised by Firinn's story. After a moment, he starts speaking to the thing at the bottom of the stairs.
"I think you will find you are judged by the choices you make, by how others perceive your motives, how they think you should have behaved. Doesn't matter if it is now or after death. Nobody cares about the intent, they just care about when and where you express joy, and what you do to others to get it."
He pauses for a second.
"Death's not remotely the worst thing that could happen. But living in fear of death means having no joy, but simply being a tool, or toy, for others. Go ahead, let the fear of being slain for refusing to do evil be enough to drive you to do evil. You'll be judged for your choices. We all will."
@Firinn
"You did what exactly to yourself physically? The Kyton are as dangerous as the Demons, less so than the Deamon's but still dangerous none the less. Baphomet was the only one who accepted me, saw me for what I could do. This city always hated my kind, those with some devil blood in them. I didn't choose to be like this, the energies of the city and the proximity to the Would Wound perverted me as an infant." He says.
@ Terry
"Joy is not something that is allowed to my kind, the Lord Mayor of this town hunted down witches instead of rooting out the cults that took root here. He didn't care who died as long as someone took the fall." A pause that seems to just hang in the air. "My choices are to stay alive, so I have done what I have needed to do to do that."
"You'll have to see for yourself." Firinn replies, "I'm an aasimar - it's hard to describe how I look now. I have no weapons, I'm not trying to trick you here."
Lorena has only listened so far, but now she speaks up in Abyssal, putting as much sensuality into her voice as possible (at least, for that language) to emphasise what the tiefling can't see. Not being magically compelled to tell the truth, she also takes the opportunity to embellish her sob story a little. "Devil blood? My blood is demon blood, and the people of Kenabres welcomed me with open arms. You know, I once had the same opportunity as you. Baphomet, the Lord of Minotaurs...a group of his cultists far to the south of here was trying to recruit in a village I frequented. But when they saw me, they turned on each other, fought each other over me, for the chance to...possess me. Soon, there was no more cult. Every cultist and demon follower I've met has ended up dead - and just as often by their own hands as ours. You seem like a nice kid, I'd hate for you to end up the same way." She pauses for a moment, then adds: "You don't have to be good", putting the same stress as the tiefling did. "If you know what's good for you, you'll know that the path to survival lies against Baphomet and the other demons." She almost adds, it doesn't take a shadowy figure in your dreams to know that, but that wasn't exactly true for her, and she'd rather not let her companions know about that, let alone this hostile stranger.
"ou must be quire remarkeable for entire cults to fight over you and kill themselves all the same." The voice laughs a bit, "Calling me a Kid as opposed to a child is a nice touch, almost a term of endearment, like you almost care. May I ask how old you are miss?"
about 10 minutes have passed Firinn stands on the stairs unmolested, the bodies of the two dead Cultists remain by the open door to the outside.
"Well, it was a small cult in a small village, ten men at most", Lorena admits. "As to how old I am...I'm not sure exactly...but if I remember the stories, I'm about as old as the First Crusade." She's not sure where this knowledge comes from, but it flows freely through her mind.
So you are over 100 years old?" The voice says back. 'Interesting, I am around 50 years old so I guess for this conversation I would be the child."
”So, what do ye say then? Look, I’m a paladin. I’m here with a tiefling, just like ye. Companions with a past, just like ye. Come with us, help us do the right thing. For not just the world, but yourself.”
"So what is it exactly you are offering? A live of servitude to you and your companions?" He asks
”...no? What? I’m nay a bloody follower of Droskar! I’m saying abandon the demons. Help thwart their cause. Save innocent lives. Go and live a good life as ye see fit. Open a bloody bakery in the Linnorn Lands for all I care! I’m here because there’s an entire world out there untouched by these demons, and I’d die to keep it that way. Do ye part in that, is all we ask.
"Help us. Offer the crusaders your information and any other services you are willing to give. The worst they will do is make you leave Kenabres and go elsewhere. We're not in a position to refuse help." Firinn adds, honestly.
See that is where even if I died I know now that your side is losing, what is that you can offer me firmly that would make it worth my while to switch sides." He says back, 20 minutes in to the conversation. "A bakery does sound interesting, I haven't been to the Land of Linnorms but I hear they are not so welcoming of my kind." You can almost picture the smile on his face. "The worst they will do if that Lord Mayor gets a hold of me is Torture me for information and then kill me or lock me up. Do not pretend like the side of Good is so innocent, I witnessed first hand what Your Lord Hulrun has done to Tieflings who he thought were "traitors" The mans voice has a ping of pain to it
”Not all who crusade are good. And not all who fall to darkness are evil. At the end of the day, we are all only responsible for the choices we make.”
"We offer you peace and freedom. That is all we can give." Firinn points out. [b]"I will speak for you to the commanders if that helps. One is a half-orc, she knows what it is like to be discriminated against.
"I will consider your offer, I will not attack you if you choose to come back down. You realize that if I am caught by my own I will be tortured and killed or worse. I will be kept in chains and gagged with your people. Neither of which I want." He replies.
After remaining so silent for so long, Terry speaks up, again. "Yeah, yeah. I ain't got's nobody. What happens is mostly up to you. I was captured and tried for stealing weapons from the crusade. They allowed me to arm up and become a foot soldier instead of punishing me more directly, because they needed the help. And that was BEFORE this happened. You want to be a prisoner? I'm sure they'll oblige. You want to do something about making life better for yourself and those around you? They can't afford to refuse honest help. How you present yourself and what you ask for are up to you. Either way, YOU'll make the choice that matters."
Khaz walked back down. His mace hanging from his belt and his open arms out wide to show that he meant peace.
Jocasta puts her empty hand on Khaz's shoulder for a moment and cocks her head as if to indicate "Be careful."
"You can just sit this whole fight out if you want. The battle lines are drawn, plenty of people just want to keep their heads down and stay alive. Not everyone is a warrior," she calls down the stairs.
"Just stay out of the way, if that's what you'd rather."
Khaz makes his way down the stairs to find the Teifling sitting on a chair by a large desk, the Symbol of Baphoment is a large bronze thing, power radiates from it encompassing the small room. "If you wish to take whatever is here that is no my own person stuff you may do so." The Teifling points to a key. "I will not stop you, I will remain here in the mean time, I think it safest for myself."
This semicircular room is empty except for a few bookshelves
against the walls and a single desk and chair sit in one corner. A
huge set of wood and metal double doors stands in the south wall.