Nicatha rises in one liquid movement. "I do. I bid you a good night. Thank you."
She pauses at the threshold half in their room half in the hallway. Not looking behind her -- Nicatha's musical voice drifts back to them. "Ylrhea Corissca, I know you neither like me nor know me, but I have a gift for you given freely. Some of your friends yet live in an accursed place. There is still hope."
And just like she entered in their lives, she is gone.
Back in her room, Nicatha will use her last two Focused Trances before bed to inquire about the third companion of Drago, and who/what are the Necromancers.
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Aside from three oils, Mortimus finds that the rest of the gear is mundane.
The Necromancers are not simply that. They were a group of devoted spellcasters looking to unchain mortals from the fear of death. Not all of them pursued divine means, some took to using scientific reason. Their number has always been thirteen but the title has been passed from one person to another, along with their strange masks. Who the current holders of the masks are and what their current goals are beyond the scope of the spirits knowledge.
You all awaken the next morning, ready for what the day will bring. However, the day has brought a light drizzle, making the fall air just a tad more uncomfortable. Ylrhea leaves before breakfast to sell off the gains from the excursion into the Keep. She returns as you are all proceeding downstairs and hands a large sack to both Drago and Mortimus.
Ylrhea pays out of her share for four meals and eats quietly, looking up at the newcomer every so often. "I'll have to buy some stuff before we head out. I decided to keep the antitoxin and the thunderstones, just in case."
"Yeah, the shopkeeper has an assortment of gems," Ylrhea says quietly, knowing what the cleric would use them for.
Ylrhea polishes off her meal, using her heel of bread to soak up the remnants of the sausages' juices. "Alright. I've got plenty to buy. Some new clothes and armor being chief among my purchases. And a hot bath before we go."
She falls oddly quiet after that last statement, then stands from the table. She leads Mortimus to Ermund's Adventurers Emporium.
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Ermund's is a large building that dominates the industrial sector of Arden. The interior of the building looks like a pawnbroker's shop. Arms and armor of all kinds line the walls, while glass cases containing wands, rings and gems of all sizes take up the floor.
Ermund himself directs a couple of apprentices to sort through the pile of things the gnome brought in earlier. A large shelf filled with labeled vials stands behind the proprietor. He looks up to see the gnome and cleric.
"Ah, how can this humble shopkeeper help you now?" he asks, flashing a smile filled with several golden teeth.
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Drago awoke with the strange sensation of power. As if the room itself stood a little more in awe of his presence.
As they ate their meal, the Damphir couldn't help but steal some sidelong glances at their new companion. While the blood lust was still boiling within his veins, he managed to keep in check. That's not what worried him however. What had Drago concerned, was that Mortimus was now starting to look tasty. Have I developed a taste for humans now? His mind drifted back to the bandit whose throat he slit, the memory of the blood spurting into his mouth and giving him the slightest taste. Is that really all it takes? The Sorcerer continued eating his meal.
After Ylrhea left, Drago asked Nicatha, "You never did answer her question about Alexandros. Who is he and why did the Mayor think I was him?"
Ermund quickly procures Mortimus' order and hands them to the cleric. "Ah, a practitioner of the darker arts. These gems will be suitable for your needs."
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"Yes, those are pretty good quality onyx," the gnome says, appraising the gems. "Probably the best you'll find around here."
Ylrhea gets one of Ermund's assistants to get her things while Mortimus finishes his transaction. She acquires a large bundle and passes over a good portion of her money.
"Back to the inn then. I gotta get cleaned up and ready."
Upon returning to the inn, she hands the innkeeper some silver for a hot bath. Twenty minutes later, she is dressed in new studded leather, her orange hair glistening from the water. She smiles faintly at Drago.
"Ready?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
Before going downstairs in the morning, Nicatha will ask the spirits about Alexandros Skorzeny. Knowing the Skorzeny's, there would likely be familial conflict.
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After thanking the spirits of night and moon for their wisdom, Nicatha will join the other three downstairs. Her brilliantly white robes swirl around her as she descends the stairs and walks to their table as if they are being blown by unfelt breezes.
"Thank you for breakfast, Ylrhea. The food here is so different than what I once ate."
She nods a greeting to both Drago and Mortimus.
At Drago's question, the otherworldly woman releases a small sigh. "I did answer her question. I was referring to Alexandros last night."
She pauses briefly and releases another sigh seemingly coming to some inner conclusion. "I never know how much to tell people when they ask me their questions. Tell them too much and they hate and fear me. Tell them too little and they blame me if disaster strikes. Taken for granted, blamed, despised -- never again. My knowledge is of great value, and some secrets must be earned. Yet, you have promised me your protection and I have promised you my blessings where it concerns the keep of shadows. Alexandros touches directly on that. The Mayor mistook you for him because you share a remarkable resemblance. You share this resemblance because you also share the same mother."
Drago stopped in mid bite. Same...Mother? I have a sibling? "You mean, I have a half-brother? I guess I'm the 'black sheep' of the family."
"Greetings, Mortimus. I am Nicatha. The night whispered your names to me. The moon guided my feet," the beautiful woman replies serenely.
Black sheep? These people use the strangest idioms.
She merely nods at Drago's second question.
Nicatha flashes Mortimus an ivory smile. "The darkness is full of spirits. Some are potent. Some are weak. Not all spirits of darkness deal in pain and suffering."
Drago finishes his meal in silence, and contemplates what a meeting with his newly found brother might mean.
"I shall."
Alexandros went on to slay his father's master and inherit the title of Necromancer, though the dhampir is a pyromancer himself. Upon assuming his mantle, he gave into his incestuous desires with his mother. Their relationship is one of sexual pleasure and strategic control. He continues to undertake tasks that further Chalandra's goals, removes threats to her and better her opinions of him. His sexual desire is meant for her alone. Alexandros is well-traveled and erudite, a scholar of many fields.
As you leave town, Mortimus' minions join you, emerging from behind the trees. You return to the Keep, the rain coming down in a torrent now. The lone corpse of the bugbear lies on the sodded stones on the courtyard.
Ylrhea wrinkles her nose. "What? Was your ghoul too full to finish that one off?"
On the way to the Shadow Keep, Nicatha will have a suggestion, "If you ever enter into conflict with Alexandros, be protected from the hunger of flames. It might not be unwise to request such a charm from your great spirit, Mortimus."
Nicatha's lovely visage appears unfazed by the necromancy. Such are the powers of shadow.
"As if he didn't smell bad enough as it is..." the gnome mutters.
While Nicatha is not going to lead the group through the keep (that's what the undead are for), she will keep a sharp eye out.
"Yes; otherwise, I would not have warned you against it," she explains gently.
"Just keep him out of my way, then," Ylrhea says coldly.
The rain has washed away the leaves and detritus of the courtyard, leaving very little for the oracle to study.