As Grumblejack chuckles Sion returns a smile to the ogre. They had made it. Free, for the moment. The trackers Blackerly had sent would be on them in no time. "What will you do now ogre? If you continue with us perhaps you can find safety until the hunt for us is called off. That may be weeks, but I'm sure our mysterious benefactor has a plan and has already thought this through." As everyone stops to catch their breath he takes a look at Nikita's wound. "It doesn't look good. Could get infected out here on the moor if you aren't careful. Do we possess any more healing potions or magic? Our shadow girl here might not make it."
Mordesel breathes deep. A smile crosses his face. He nods at Anton's comment. Let's begin moving now then, and we'll light them up when it becomes too dark. Hopefully we can get far enough away so that we are not drawing attention by the time we have to begin using them.
Mordesel listens to Sion, then nods, lips pulled tight in a grimace, We have one more, but Grumblejack is in equally bad shape, Mordesel says looking the ogre over. I hope we do not, but it is possible we will run into patrols out here. We either need to decide who would be better to give it to, or wait until one of them is unconscious, and use it then. That is assuming you are joining us in our journey to our benefactor? He turns to the ogre, eyebrows raised.
The ogre nods his head.
"Yeah, I come too. But the road will 'av patrols. Maybe we Go through swamp instead? You got a map right?"
With the map you found, you probably could take a shortcut through the marsh. No more than two hours. The road goes the long way around, it would take longer.
Oh yes, we're going through the marsh, he says pulling out the map, But after tonight, I expect there might be patrols in the swamp as well. Though I hope I'm wrong.
Grumblejack gives a toothy grin. He does nt mind crossing the moors. Even Nikita sees it as the best option.
Sion will lead the way with his Darkvision, suggest Dane our fighter at the back and grumble with Nikita in the middle with our Monk, Sorcerer and Bard surrounding them.
Dane agrees to taking up the rear, and does mention. "I've the last of our healing potions, but there's not one of us here who doesn't need it. I'd prefer to hold on to it until we know one of us absolutely needs it the most."
Donovan falls in with the rest, and cheerfully jokes, despite having had the equivalent of four full meals since the escape from the cells, Blast! We should have brought a corpse with us for the road. I simply love snacking on a long journey, and right now I'm feeling absolutely peckish! Wouldn't you agree old Grumbley Jack?
"Yeah, can't believe I fergot to eat Blackerly. Heh, I could sure go for somethin' about now." the ogre says as he licks his lips.
The moors is cold and damp, as one would expect. The temperature continues to drop through the night and the constant attacks from mosquito swarms are annoying at best. Still, at least the chill is not so bad that it would lead to frostbite.
The muddy trekking continues throughout the first hour. Thankfully, your map is quite accurate, requiring only the most rudimentary wilderness survival skills to understand.
In the darkness a pair of bulbous eyes watch your party trek across the brackish moors. Only Mordesel sees the creature in time however.
Mordesel curses. He turns and runs at the beast, swinging his staff as he moves.
The giant toad absorbs the blow but is clearly injured.
It attacks Mordesel, attempting to bite.
The swamp toad chomps down hard on the monk, tearing through skin and flesh with its razor sharp teeth. Mordesel's unconscious body is now in the toad's mouth.
Dane, seeing his newfound comrade end up in the belly of the beast after mere seconds charges snaps into action shortly thereafter. Raising his big weapon up, Dane also charges in, swinging the blade down at the torso, hoping to not kill the monk in the mouth.
Donovan shouts in horror as the toad appears, By the gods, I've never seen such a beast. but then remarks, as the monster chomps down on Mordesel, Although I must admit I am just a bit jealous of the old frog; our friend looks like quite a fit feast does he not!
Donovan then draws his meat cleaver and releases a quick ray of frost at the toad.
Dane smashes into the toad with devastating force, spraying gooey chunks of toad across the moors. The toad drops to the ground, releasing its still-live prey.
Dane doesn't lower his guard, and scans the area for other threats.
Once more certain that the swamp isn't hiding any other dangers, Dane lowers his blade, and looks at Mordesel, then to Anton. "This patron of ours, where is he? Are we getting close, will we arrive tonight?" Kneeling down next to Mordesel, and inspecting the new wound, Dane airs his concerns to the group. "I think he'll survive this. I've seen men survive worse. ...The question now is do we use our last potion on him or not? 'Jack can probably carry him to our destination if we haven't far to go, and it may be best to save the potion... not sure if this one will be enough to put 'im back on his feet."
"Give him the potion. It won't do to arrive and not all be able to stand."
Dane seems to accept the argument as he unstops the bottle, and feeds the potion to the fallen Monk.
"Welcome back to the living. We are almost there. Hopefully any other beasts thinking we might be a quick meal leave us alone after seeing what happened to this one."
Mordesel stirs, then wakes. He slowly gets up, wincing at the pain. Once he is standing, he looks around, finds his staff and begins leaning on it in earnest. Well, he says, let's go then. Before another one does get that idea.
After escaping the prison, surviving the monstrous giant toad and crossing the moors with guard patrols at your heels, finding the house on the Old Moor Road pales beside your other accomplishments.
As promised, a lonely lantern burns in the upper story. The place otherwise shows little sign of habitation. Old but well-appointed, the house is large, imposing and alone on its hill. Painted a dark green and surrounded by barbed wrought iron fencing, nothing about this place seems inviting or a sanctuary. Still, it is your destination. Where will you go if not here? You have an appointment to keep.
Best not to keep your nameless benefactor waiting…
"Well there it is, just like we were informed. There is no where else to go right now for me and someone who conceived and helped our escape and wants me alive, for whatever reason, is better than being out here in this swamp." He looks back towards the prison one last time and only the dark greets him. The search would be on. He hoped they could not track them here. Likely the one who lived here would take care of that or lead them somewhere safe if not. He was convinced there must be some greater plan than to help a few condemned prisoners escape but captured soon after. Thinking about it would do him no good. He turns around and marches onwards towards the light.
Mordesel walks up to the manor, following the group. His constant grimace seems to deepen. Let's go and find out what is wanted of us. I would like to pay the price quickly, then I can finally be free again. He quickens his step, staff clicking as it leaves the soft ground of the moors and enters the road.
Dane smiles and increases his pace one the manor is in sight. "Well here we are. Let's get inside quick as we can."
Muddy and exhausted, you approach the front door of the manor house. The door opens to reveal a beautiful woman with platinum-blonde hair and piercing green eyes. she wears a diaphanous white gown that makes her look almost angelic.
Smirking, she speaks with an air of authority and arrogance, and illusions about her angelic character are quickly dispelled. She focuses her attention upon Anton, although she is obviously still addressing the whole group.
“Dearest, you took long enough,” she says pitilessly.
“We were beginning to wonder if you’d ever make it. Oh, and you brought friends. The master commands all of you to appear before him but before that, you must be made presentable. Slaves!”
She claps her hands. A dozen young attractive men and women all wearing very traditional servant’s livery appear quickly, their heads bowed.
“These people are our guests,” she commands imperiously.
“See them to their rooms. I want them cleaned, dressed and refreshed. Quickly.”
There is something in that last word that sounds like a threat. Certainly the slaves take it that way, hustling to perform their duties.
Grumblejack gives the woman a distrustful glare, which she returns with a wide grin and a look in her eyes that could turn water to ice. The ogre recoils for a moment, clearly shaken.
"Take the monster up too, he is amusing. He shall have a room of his own also." she says with a mild laugh.
You are quickly harried upstairs, the woman ignoring any attempts of dialogue and remaining downstiars. You are each given a comfortable room, complete with a fresh change of (perfectly sized) clothes. Fresh water is available too. Several more servants bring to each of you a platter of hot, delicious food and a glass of red wine.
After serving the food, two servants stand in the hallway and one in each room, awaiting your orders.
Dane keeps an eye on the road as the approached the door, watching for any sign of approaching trouble. When the woman commands the slaves forward, Dane glances over, his eyes looking the women up and down, both their host and the slaves alike.
Upon reaching his allotted room, Dane immediately begins drinking the water. Fighting one's way out of prison does tend to work up quite the thirst. After draining two glasses, Dane begins stripping out of the armor and clothes beneath, and replacing that with the provided clothing. When the food comes in, Dane addresses the slave bringing it in. "Slave, ensure that the one who should know, knows that beyond all of our wounds, that the ogre is poisoned and should be attended to."
With a dismissive wave, Dane digs into the food, draining half the wine first, then drinking the rest throughout his meal. He finishes with a contented sigh. He wasn't back to his people, but this was how he should be treated. Perhaps not all Talingardeans were fools.
Donovan beams as the woman answers the door; No wonder Anton was so keen to get us here, hah! And the servants too? I think I'll like this place indeed. He watches the exchange between the woman and Grumblejack with amusement, raising his eyebrows and shooting his companions a glance before hurrying upstairs.
After having changed his clothes, Donovan leaves his room to converse with anyone around.
Fantastic place, eh? Once you get over the fact that it's damnably creepy, one could get right comfortable here no? Then lowering his voice: By the way, did anyone else see the teeth on that woman? Veritable fangs! It looks like Grumblejack isn't the only monster here...I wonder if she's got similar tastes too?
Speaking of grub, anyone who cares to can have mine, I'm quite sated at the moment. Although those servants were simply mouthwatering no?
After thinking for a few moments, Donovan calls to one of the servants. You there! Tell your mistress that the skinny one has some...err....dietary restrictions. Ask her if she's ever heard of... Donovan's next words come out guttural and rasping, like the sound a talking corpse would make...
Dane's personals slave nods and quickly leave the room to inform his mistress of Grumblejack's condition.
As he sips the wine, he notices the aches from his injuries begin to fade away. Although not a connoisseur of wine, Dane recognises a subtle taste to the drink that he's fairly familiar with.
-------------------------------------------------------------
The servant/slave certainly doesn't understand the language Donovan is using but after repeating the phrase twice has enough of a grasp of the pronunciation to leave and relay the request. Clearly, he was too afraid to ask what the words actually meant.
Minutes pass and the same servant returns. Curiously, he closes the door behind him and is holding a glass of (what appears to be) water.
"Umm... The mistress send her warmest regards and says... Errr...
Clearly, the man has memorised a set of detailed instructions with little idea what is actually happening. He then drinks the glass of liquid.
His eyes suddenly bulge from his head and with a shocked gasp, collapses to the floor.
Mordesel shows little reaction to the bared fangs of the woman. But the offer of food, and refreshment seems to catch his attention. He follows the servants upstairs. Once there, he drinks greedily. Then he orders more, using it to wash before changing. The new clothes fit well, a nice contrast to the rags he was wearing before. The tunic is a deep blue silk with ties at the neck. The red cotton pants are well made, and allow Mordesel the movement he is used to.
Once he is finished dressing, Mordesel looks around for the jewelry he is accustomed to wearing. He frowns. It's not there.
When the servant arrives with his food, Mordesel sets to on his meal immediately. Before the servant leaves he asks about the jewelry, Are there any necklaces, or jewels around that will go with this? No one seemed to place any in my room. As he waits for the reply, he drains his wine in one gulp.
Dane, finishing his meal, appreciatively rubs the symbols. Talingardean enough to blend in, Iraen enough to feel like home. Whomever this "master" is, is showing a much more impressive side than that initial selection of items. Standing up after finishing his meal, Dane figures that he could do with more. A day of fighting without food or rest did more than work up a thirst. Having heard Donovan's offer whilst he was still eating, Dane stands up and goes to Donovan's room. Upon entering (without knocking), Dane stands befuddled for a moment, staring at the dead servant. His mouth opening and closing several times as he seems to try to think of the appropriate thing to say for this situation. His mouth then snaps shut as he marches across the room, and grabs the plate of food. Closing the door behind him as he leaves, Dane comments, "I hope you asked before you did that."
The servant looks embarrassed.
"Forgive me sir, the costs of the additional adornments was not provided in our budget. If you command it, I will ensure the required jewelry will be delivered to you by tomorrow morning."
The wine is very good indeed.
Mordesel nods, Please do so. Then he dismisses the servant with little notice. He finishes his meal quickly. Afterwards, he lays on his bed to rest until summoned. A sneer crosses his face as the thought of being summoned crosses his mind.
Sion immediately follows the slave inside and to his 'room'. Directing it to take away his dirty prison clothes he then washes in the clean water while the other slaves stand by with the food and wine. He sniffs the wine, directing one of the slaves to sip it before he drinks. Seeing it live he also drinks and feels rather better for it.
The food goes rather quickly as he is quite hungry from his time in prison where they did not bother to feed any prisoners. When he is finished he realises that he stands there stark naked and chooses from the clothes that were offered. A light shirt coloured a deep red and near black long loose fitting pants with dark leather boots and a long cloak that matched his skin were his choices. Finally feeling like his prison days were another life he smiles at the slaves and begins questioning them. "Who is your master here? What is his name? And that woman, I don't believe she is human, have you ever seen her true form? Which god do you worship here?" Not expecting slaves to know much or be educated in any way, It's how it should be, he still tries to find something out about this place. If any of the answers are not straight or he doesn't like it he grabs his dagger and threatens them with it.
Donovan walks out of his room, badly butchered hunk of meat in one hand, bloodied meat cleaver in the other, to address Sion:
Calm down now, calm down. No need to be so hard on the slaves yeah? I'll tell you one thing though, that woman speaks Necril, the tongue of the dead. And most that can speak like that are, well, dead. Just some food for thought. Ooh, and speaking of food, does anyone have some spices? Spices would be nice, yes...
To Sion's disappointment (but not his surprise), the slaves have little to say. Initially, they refuse to say anything at all about their master, but they are week willed and one or two let slip tidbits of information.
Their mistress is named Tiadora, although they simply call her mistress as a sign of respect. They are terrified of her, but aside from assuming she is not human, the slaves won't even risk guessing what she is. Despite their terror, they are slavishly devoted to her.
Who the 'master' is they dare not say a word, even if interrogated. The most they say on the matter is, "He will personally greet you when he deems it fit." (in the most polite way possible)
When asked who they worship, they answer without hesitation. Asmodeus.
Donovan's sudden appearance obviously makes them a bit nervous, although not as much as you might expect.
Given that once everyone seems done eating, changing, and generally set to just relaxing, Dane quickly realizes that their audience wasn't necessarily going to be this night. Fetching a slave, Dane prepares himself a bath. He bathes, shaves, trims his hair, and generally removes all signs that he's a recently escaped prisoner save for the brand. Seeing that he still hasn't been called, Dane takes the opportunity to finally get some sleep.
"I see you are treating yours well then... She doesn't look undead. You can speak it, are you? Likely out hosts are quite powerful in magic. These people are all worshippers of asmodeus like me. I would not be surprised that the lovely Tiadora is a devil of some kind and her master the one who masterminded helping us out." He looks at the slaves to see their reaction to his conclusions. "You pitiful things cower in fear of them, far more than my dagger here. Hahahah. Still, you have helped me glean something of this place and you may keep your lives. Unlike that one there." He points to the meat in Donovan's hand and laughs again.
The next morning you are greeted with a breakfast of fruit, breads and cuts of ham. Not a lavish meal, but nourishing enough.
After a few hours you are met by the Mistress of the house.
"I do hope you are all well rested. I am Tiadora and I have come to inform you that our benefactor has requested your company."
She then turns and heads downstairs, expecting you to follow. Grumblejack has not been summoned and curiously, Nikita is nowhere to be seen.
At last Tiadora leads you to a beautifully appointed office richly decorated with dark wood and sumptuous brocade tapestry. Sitting in a leather high-backed chair is a devilishly handsome fellow who smiles as you enter. To his left stands a tall, disheveled man with a symbol of Asmodeus hanging around his neck. He looks strangely pale and gaunt, but the smile on his face shows no sign of weakness or exhaustion. Tiadora takes her place next to the seated man.
The handsome man remains seated as he speaks.
“Welcome, my guests. I believe you to be the first to ever escape from Branderscar Prison. Even with outside help, that is no small accomplishment. Well done indeed.” he says with a wicked smile.
“But I believe introductions are in order. You have already met Tiadora. She is my right hand all all things."
He indicates your hostess.
"This is Durova Sanguisuge, my apprentice."
He indicates the unkempt man to his left.
"As for myself, my name is Cardinal Adrastus Thorn and I am the last high priest of Asmodeus left on the island of Talingarde. Once the Prince of Nessus was rightly revered alongside the other great powers. Now, the king of Talingarde has become a puppet to Mitran fanatics who wish to destroy any religion that does not bow to their insipid sun god. For their blasphemy, I will see the same people who imprisoned and condemned you suffer. I understand what you went through for I have faced it myself.”
With that, he pulls down the sleeve of his robe and reveals his own runic ‘F’ brand.
“I am going to burn Talingarde to the ground and from the ashes I will build a new nation that knows its rightful master. I will raise the noble families of old back into their rightful places of power, and greater still.
He glances at Anton as he says this.
I will return the faiths of old from the brink of annihilation and end the Mitran oppression of other cultures."
He glances at Dane as he says this.
"And I will return the tradition of rewarding the worthy with immortality.I cannot do this alone. I seek servants worthy of our Infernal Father’s majesty. Have I found them in you?”
Dane steps forward and proclaims his worthiness. "You have in me, what would you ask of me beyond what I already do to combat these over-righteous heathens?"
He seeks the rise of Asmodeus as well. Good. I can't go back north without being killed for failure or captured again. Perhaps he has a worthy plan.
"How do you plan to accomplish all this? Grand words are for fools ears and I am no fool. I worship asmodeus also. What is it you want of us?"
Mordesel eats his meal puts on the jewelry and follows Tiadora without a word.
This is how I see it.
A silver lightning bolt clasp for his belt. (5 gp)
A jade necklace with a moon and star design carved in. (20 gp)
A silver ring, with a small sapphire gemstone. (25 gp)
Does that work?
Mordesel shows no reaction as he listens to Thorn's speech. Then the man speaks of rewards and immortality. Mordesel's eyes glint greedily. He hesitates a moment before bowing down. You have a worthy servant in me. I will help to tear down this he spits the word out almost like a rotted piece of meat, with everything I have. He pauses, making sure his loyalty is understood before continuing. And I will be rewarded with immortality, Mordesel looks up, eyebrows raised in question, lips curved in a near triumph.