"If you cure one of them now, how long will it be before Zon Kuthon grants you power to cure the other?"
"All depends if the Midnight Lord favors my work..." replied the Kuthite to the dwarf. "Though it shan't be too long...hm just wait.."
Picking himself up, Radu looked to the group with widened eyes. "Thats it! One moment!" he said with a shock of energy as he bound for the far end of the temple where he turned a corner and disappeared from sight. In the absence of the jovial cleric, screams continued to echo within the hallowed building. As if joining the chorus of pain, Radu's high pitched voice carried from one end of the temple to the other.
"Praise the Dark Prince! A scroll from one of my contemporaries had been left behind in the rear sanctum. Surely, a sign for today...or maybe tomorrowwwww!!!"
His rolls of fat bounced, while the spike chain of his office swayed and dangled wildly like rain on a windy forest. Radu ended in a shuffle fresh with more sweat, panting.
"Lucky...I...had this!!!" he said while holding a yellowed scroll with skull heads fashioned on either end. Swirling his fingers onto the paper, he focused on the writing which happened to be in a cursive script.
"A gift from my mentor - Father Adler Channing. "Remove Deafness". Had a penchant for playing organs..and as a result..hearing." Placing a pudgy hand on Nicola's shoulder. "Scroll...charge is 375GP. You're a long way from home...I'd recommend it..."
While Nicola tried to understand what the cleric was saying, Radu did a cursory glance at the PC's, putting on pitiful eyes so that he can finish this transaction and continue his business.
Shadrick looks around rather amused. While he was more a sadist, than a masochist, he still had prior arrangements. When the man continues to speak, he shrugs, with a bit of a smile.
To him, Kuthon was far too orderly, really. Or at least, his clergy was. Pain was chaos given form, really. It didn't really register, the idea of pain being... A systematic application of pain wasn't torture, it was a gimmick. He believed Kuthon venerated darkness more than he did pain.
"Good sir! I am, indeed a chelaxian, and, compared to my compatriots, haven't been so much as harmed. However, I do have a suggestion. Kuthon enjoys martyr's, no?" he asked, raising a hand and gesturing to himself. "Here is my suggestion, though I admit I have my own... reasons, but, I will pay for Sanira and the deaf witch's cures with my own flesh. How does that sound? A part of me is also curious of the abilities of your clergy to inflict exquisite pain..."
As he spoke, he removed a part of his armor, his left arm's gauntlet, revealing a venerable ocean of scars that had all healed nicely and discolored his skin.
The deed was in no way good. He would question them throughout the entire process, and Shadrick always had been bothered by Sanira's enjoyment of injury, evident in her palms. As a seperatist Zurite, it was against his code to let a woman become injured through outside means... even if she was of another faith.
Looking to the man, a thick wry smile crossed shadrick's face.
"Now sir, I present you the plan, though I admit I've a use for honeying my words. I inquire you, take this offer for the midnight lord, and lose yourself in the act, hmm? What do you say?"
A glimpse of... enjoyment, was all that was visible in Shadrick's eyes as he suggested this, tossing back a glance to Fearn, whom he wasn't sure would take this as lecherous, or chivalrous. He considered it hilarious that the line was so blurred however.
Fearn stares at Mavis. It's like he hasn't seen him before. On the face of it, the offer was generous and good. Self-sacrifice for the good of others. If it hadn't meant essentially engaging in worship of Zon Kuthon, Fearn might have volunteered to pay such a price himself.
But there was no mistaking the man's eagerness underlying his suave demeanor. Shadrick thought he was going to enjoy this. Was he mad? But hard on the heels of this realization came the memory of some of Shadrick's odd turns of phrase and devotion to an unnamed god. He had to be deluded, or insane, or ... was his new friend not truly the good man Fearn had believed him to be?
In any event Fearn was constrained to offer Shadrick some way out of a bargain that Miklos would surely seize.
"Mavis, I have enough to pay the gold price for both. You needn't face this. It is no mere earthly bargain. It is tantamount to worshiping Zon Kuthon."
Sense motive
Know(religion)
Shadrick turned, having sort of expected this. However, now he was in a bind. Saying that he wasn't doing it to worship Zon Kuthon may royally mess with the priest at hand, which was bothersome, despite his obviously grand delivery.
"Fearn, let me assure you that whatever reason I do this for, it is somewhat chivalrous of me. At least, in Sanira's case. Stay your gold. Besides, it's not like they're going to kill me... and besides. I've taken my precautions."
Sanira would have cast displeased glances to her traveling companions, had the world not continued to be a pit of blackness. Not only had the dwarf insulted her master, but the larger human was now trying to prevent her from honoring Zon-Kuthon properly!
"Nonsense. Any true believer in the Midnight Lord would never allow another to accept their due agony. After all, it is only in the face of pain that we can truly honor our Master. So I am afraid I will be attending to my own needs, Shadrick."
She bore her arms, once more displaying all of the scars that marred her grey flesh.
"This offering will be but a pittance for the Midnight Lord."
Father Radu Miklo's eyes teared at the sudden show of emotion between the companions.
"Ah, it gives me and the Midnight Lord great pleasure in seeing the worthy come before him willing and eager! But alas, I can't have an orgy of the flesh here...atleast not yet. There is a ceremony for that...but it'll have to wait." said the Cleric, who looked like a beast eyeing down his feast. "Now...if I heard the young...fetchling right, she wishes to offer herself, which I've no qualms about. As for the Chelaxian, his prowess and vigor seem like the perfect match for our twice crippled friend here..." said Miklos as he patronized the witch.
The cleric bent down once more fishing for something within the ancient desk that the heroes were around. Bringing to the light, Miklos has a carefully packaged tool set of knives, probes and other instruments of the midnight lord all wrapped in a delicate soft velvet sleeve which imitated the night sky.
Running his fingers over each instrument as if caressing the hand of a maiden, he delicately picked up a thin brush where upon his head sat a pointed blade rather than bristles.
"So, are we aggreance here? The Chelaxian will offer himself for the Varisian, and the Fetchling for herself?
Radu's hands carried the tool with supernatural ease. His rolls of fat managed to remain still as he swayed in place, humming energy for himself.
Sounds absolutely fine... he says as he looks at the blades. A grin passes his face, however, in anticipation of a rather lucrative plan.
"May I make a deal, however? For every wound you inflict, and you may inflict any, of course, could you tell me something of this... baron, of yours? I am rather interested in his history.
If only because one of his cohorts is the reason for this damnable disease." he said, a grin raising over his face.
He volunteers for more? I might have expected her to, but .. Seeking a swab of comforting sanity Fearn turns to the witch, "Nicola, .... " Oh right.
May I make a deal, however? For every wound you inflict, and you may inflict any, of course, could you tell me something of this... baron, of yours? I am rather interested in his history.
The cleric nodded, more pleased to actually be making use of his time than entertaining foreigners within his hallowed office. Passing a pudgy hand along his moist brow, Miklos perked his lips and drew the first slice on the Chelaxian's exposed arm.
"History...huh? Well...surely an odd request, but even I cannot deny a transaction! Well...where do I start? Our current Baron, is but the youngest of three brothers all of whom had Nidal's favor. There was Ioziff, one who I couldn't wait to take over Karpad. He was strong, capable and a man that derserved my respect. Heck, I helped induct him into the grace of our Midnight Lord! Pulling back his blade, Miklos' first cut was a clean line that ran along Shadrick's wrist in a lateral fashion. Wiping the tool, he bent back once more, making curved cuts that intersected the first incision.
"When Demetri passed on to the great beyond, It was up to Ioziff to guide Karpad into a new age...but he too fell. A strange contagion that only seemed to affect him robbed the lad of his strength. It was like seeing a bull - a powerful and fearsome creature that was drained of its strength...reduced to a pile of flesh. In the wake of this disaster...it was Henric, who took over. He...wasn't that willing to succeed his late brother and father." Pulling back once more and wiping away fresh blood.
"This tale...grows darker. Even Henric fell...leaving the rule of Karpad to our current leader - Stephan. Now..this is the part that intrigues me. Being the resident Cleric here, its my right to into helping our faithful secure a proper rest so that we all can enjoy the embrace of Zon Kuthon. For each of Stephan's brothers...I was denied granting them respite. Stephan wanted to handle their burials personally...so the latest additions to the Baroi Mausoleum is but an empty grave.
Adding more stains to cloth which he held closely, Father Radu Miklos' work was done. "Well...Chelaxian. You're...contribution has been graciously accepted by Zon Kuthon. Now...for you, Sanira"
Despite his disgust at witnessing this ritual, a dreadful fascination possesses him. Fearn can't help but watch the razor thin blade do its work on Shadrick's arm and look for the man's reaction. He ponders the line and curve motif, wondering if there is any religious significance to it.
Know(Religion)
Of the many religions on Golarion, a kuthite's practices...were quite unsettling. Rather than adoration and a positive actions, they resort to self mutilation and as such - they've developed any act possible into work of art.
Before your midst, Father Radu Miklos was conducting a personal Kuthite ritual - The Mark of Pain. Its a pattern formed as the terms of a contract born to flesh. Resembling that of a broken chain, the ritual was almost complete. All that needed to be done now is prayer and devotion to Zon Kuthon.
The cuts into Shadrick's arm was precise and shaped...as if formed as a tattoo, a delicate arm. You didn't what struck you out more - Shadrick's multiple wounds...or his religious offering.
The "prayer and devotion" -- would that be something Mavis must do himself, or could the priest do it? If the priest can do it, Fearn's got to speak up.
With a smile on his face, he looks to the fat bulbous man with a quizzical grin. "So wait, you weren't allowed to bury them? Or, atleast, see them? Isn't that poor form?" he asked. It was strange... it made him want to search the resting areas. By himself, of course.
Fearn stops his train of thought. Mavis was right. That was odd. Good thing the man caught it.
With a smile on his face, he looks to the fat bulbous man with a quizzical grin. "So wait, you weren't allowed to bury them? Or, atleast, see them? Isn't that poor form?" he asked. It was strange... it made him want to search the resting areas. By himself, of course.
"Most certainly, had it not been for his lordship's status, this would be blasphemy! But Alas...Stephan pleaded and made it a case that he wanted to handle the funeral rites for his fallen siblings...personally. Without his knowing, I bargained with the Midnight Lord to look past his trangression and to accept my pain as payment for the Baron's misgivings." Father Radu pulled his vestments down bellow his sternum revealing a pattern of deep scars futher driving the point home.
After his display, he approached Sanira with the same scalpal and began to make similar marks on her fore arm."Now, its your turn..."Sanira, oh! and as expected...such...lovely markings...even for a fetchling!" Said the cleric while preparing the Oracle for the Mark of Pain.
"Now, its your turn..."Sanira, oh! and as expected...such...lovely markings...even for a fetchling!"
Sanira struggled to hold back a shudder at the corpulent's cleric's attempt at demeaning the oracle. "This poor fool thinks he's that much superior than me? Hah! He's nothing but a paradigm of how our faith has been entrusted to the unfaithful." Well whatever the case, settling Father Radu Miklos straight would have to wait for another time. The Midnight Lord has more important tasks, like the Mark of Pain.
Resting her bone white arm upon the cleric's desk, she began to chant a vigil to Zon Kuthon.
"I offer this, my blood, do you My Midnight Lord. By your will I serve."
Watching as this all unfolded, Shadrick sort of pursed his lip, thinking of the graves.
"Father, would you care, by any chance, if we took a closer look at those graves? I could certainly make it worth your while at some point in the future." he says, crossing his arms and watching as the blades sank into sanira's forearm, which was surprisingly almost as scarred and matted as his own limbs.
"I'm well aware that most good deities prefer their graves unexposed, but the naughtier ones, such as Big ZK and my own, however, don't seem to worry that much about who ends up where." he paces towards the man watching him as he works.
Looking to him, he cocks his head to the side and lets the red of his hair loom down a tad.
His eyes look down to the scalpels and special unguents. "Perhaps, my good man, would you care in even the slightest if we made it a point to take a gander at whether or not those bodies are even there or not? Honestly with the Baron's current shenanigans and blatant regard for mischief in these dark times, it's a coin toss." he laughs. "The worst case scenario, we dig up a few sacks of wheat...
Sanira was torn between her loyalty to the Master and her own hatred for the Baroi. Digging up the bodies was a disgrace - a crime against the sanctity and restful agony of death.
And yet, she found herself remaining strangely silent. As much as she wanted to will herself to disagree, she couldn't. Was her own loyalty to the Midnight Lord faltering? Or was the Baroi that much of a heretic? Perhaps even the human priest?
Or, perhaps worst of all, was she beginning to agree with Shadrick?
His eyes look down to the scalpels and special unguents. "Perhaps, my good man, would you care in even the slightest if we made it a point to take a gander at whether or not those bodies are even there or not? Honestly with the Baron's current shenanigans and blatant regard for mischief in these dark times, it's a coin toss." he laughs. "The worst case scenario, we dig up a few sacks of wheat..."
Nearing the end of inscribing the Mark of Pain upon Sanira, Shadrick's calm and silvery tongue begun to work his magic on the cleric. Half entranced by his divine duties and the pride of his work, Radu considered Shadrick's request. "Well, you're most certainly right about how we view the dead. Since the grave is empty, I don't see any harm in exploring it...though personally, I believe your actions should be directed elsewhere...like avoiding this plague...but alas, we are all given choices...and free will."
Directing his attention to the fresh wounds inflicted upon Sanira and Shadrick, Radu rubbed his hands together and began to channel divine energy. "Oh Midnight Lord, you are our sheperd, forever guiding us into that rest which is glorious but not without pain. I call upon your services to provide for these...supplicants a fraction of your power. For Sanira, your faithful that she may recieve sight once again...so that she may bear witness to your greatness. And...like the sacrificial animal, a chelaxian who is not with our faith has offered his flesh so that the Varisian cripple...may hear again. Hopefully in your grace, he may hear the calling for our faith.".
After giving the starting prayer, a purplish light that flared out into barbs envoloped the cleric's hands and began to flow onto the Oracle and Fighter.
"And with this, their flesh is offered, physical to transcend the spiritual. By your good grace...they are HEALED" At this point, the purple energy had taken the place where blood once flowed on Sanira's and Shadrick's arms. It became to glow brighter, searing their flesh. Though they did their best to stifle a moan, the Cleric could see Zon Kuthon's will manifest. In mere seconds, the light began to wane and a pale purplish scar developed on their arms.
At this point, the dim light was too much to bear for Sanira, as she quickly looked away and adjusted to her surroundings. Meanwhile for Nikola, the moans and chanting of the temple filled his ears like rainwater filling an empty basin. Giving a beaming smile, and now covered completely in sweat, Father Radu Miklos addressed the companions with good news. "Zon Kuthon has recognized your plea and provided aid!. The cripple and...the fetchling are both healed. My work here...is done. In regards to exploring the Baroi Mausoleum, be my guest...just don't make a mess. Now, it is time for me to rest!"
Despite being glad that his friends are being healed, Fearn watches the prayer with a mixture of anger, regret, and disgust. When the priest is done, he says, "Not just yet, Father. There is still news to impart to you. There a number of corpses at the Chandlery, citizens killed by a rogue fey named Ilquis. They may not rest peacefully. An unusually strong shadow was summoned there by the fey to slay us. We were able to beat both off, but they escaped and could roam anywhere in the village. You should prepare as best you can."
Sanira practically glowed with pride for her master as her vision grew brighter, then blurry, then distinct. The color remained more faded than it had been, but she enjoyed the deeper shades that now covered the world.
A grim smile crossed her face as she bore the pain for her master, stretching her arms to examine the new scars. It was the least she could do. And despite the dwarf's wrinkled face of disgust, at least he had enough sense to hold his tongue within the Temple. It was no matter if he did not approve. Zon-Kuthon would lay his god low before Him, writhing in agony and pleasure - should he ever choose to do so. But the other deities were fools unworthy of his time.
She waited as the dwarf shared his information with the priest before adding her own knowledge.
"There is something more to this shadow. In the void, it reached out to me and spoke. It seemed to be seeking something greater than ourselves. Though I cannot imagine what would please it more than servitude to the Master... I must confess it has rejected the Midnight Lord. It must be destroyed for its crime."
Crime or not, it must be destroyed. I hope Radu feels the same.
I feel as though we should investigate the Mausoleums and rest. I've a feeling that the 2 of you are nearly bone-dry when it comes to miracles for the day... He says, casting a casual glance at the priest. "Most of you, anyway." Looking at his new scar, he grimmaced. A symbol of Zon Kuthon on my arm? Sorry big man but as soon as I get my chance, I'm peeling this shit off the fun way... he thought as he looked at his new, purple-hued limb.
The sickening feeling was what bugged him the most. Shadrick had inflicted wounds upon himself a plethora of times and was never so disgusted, or felt as such. The pangs in his stomach were unattractive, to say the least.
"So everyone is okay now, yes? We've a shadow of grand size running around, a missing Ilquis, a bastard baron, and I feel something yet larger going on in the background of all this." he said as he walked towards the mausoleum. "And it's all long-frustrated me..."
As he walked towards the should-be emptied graves, he thought long and hard. So many females had went through trouble the other day, and even worse, some died. Thinking back to the fetchlings, he couldn't help but be frustrated. This land, though deliciously evil and full of debauchery, was still tainted with something he couldn't immediately put his finger on. Oh, right, it was lacking one key thing. So simple, too...
Fun.
For the entire time Shadrick had been in Nidale, the closest thing to enjoyable he'd came was a hot and bothered old, yet lithe woman, and a couple of fetchlings and he'd never been capable of doing anything with any of them. The ever-watchful gaze of the paladin at all times, and what's worse, the clown-doctor-bastard from earlier today. It all gave him a headache.
As a champion of Zura, he felt entitled to satiate his slowly growing desires anyway he aw fit, and from the looks of things he could think of only one thing that really appealed to him at this point. Seeing the look of that damned Baron's face as he had an... accident. Oh, there was an idea... Mmm... There was a window in that area, no? He could just kick him from there, and no one would be the wiser since he'd gone so mad.
He could even get in good with the baroness! Perhaps even rule and show this dark, abyssmal hovel what it was to have some enjoyment. He'd gotten away from himself in his daydream of bliss... but one thing was for sure. Before he was done with this place, he would find out all too well whether or not the Baron was a true believer in Zon Kuthon. He could apply his own special bit of torture, ending all too happily with a kick out of a window after he'd weakened him and unbinded the bastard.
"These mausoleums had better be empty..." He said, brow furrowed and scowl apparent.
Passing through the incense laid threshold of the temple, the companions welcomed the crisp Nidal night as a sea of immaculate white headstones surrounded them in every direction. Skulls, chains and all sorts of grim iconography marked the various edifices of Karpad's elite. And beyond that towards a corner of the cemetery stood the mausoleums dedicated to the Baron's late siblings.
Winding paths of pearlescent stones formed a holy mosaic leading into the section dedicated to the Baroi family. A wide arch constructed of inlaid gems and entwined bones, bushels of ivy and roses darted much of the threshold, giving the impression of nobility within a silent city of the dead. Sharp winds broke the night's silence causing a bewildered Fustra to mumble to herself.
”Stupid leafs...always making Fustra work harder...”
Strands from her broom snapped in the breeze and added to the already growing pile of leafs that marked much of the graveyard. Upon seeing the advancing party, her confused look changed to irritation..especially upon sight of Sanira. Leaning on her broom, Fustra regarded the companions with a gruff attitude.
”OY...look at what we's got here. Pretty boy and his traveling band of freaks. Well's this here's the graveyard as you's can tell. If you hadn't noticed, you're within his lordship's clan resting ground. I suggest you keep whatever...plans you's have short. I just cleaned up here and I'm NOT going to get yelled at by boss-man.”
She looked young, and jugding by her tattered grave's keeper outfit and poor social skills, Fustra belonged to Karpad's lower class. Her hair was done into a mousy brown braid that draped the length of her body where she was matched by deep almond colored eyes and a demeanor that spoke of country bumpkin.
Fearn frowns. Disturbing the dead was a little unsettling and he hadn't expected a witness. A girl. Shadrick'd be best to sweet talk her. Doesn't seem to like outlanders or fetchlings.
Unfashionable, lower class accent, matted hair, and slightly touched in the head... is all Shadrick could bare to think as he walked up to the woman in question. "And what a lovely job you've done fine woman, a fine one indeed. You'll have to forgive us for intruding you on your work, but I assure you, we're currently in the employ of your "okay" baron." He'd gotten somewhat tired of speaking good about him to be honest. Though he didn't mean to offend. "We're here to dig up one of the corpses you tend to, which we assume is nothing but a sack of wheat. Someone's been rather shifty about these, it would seem..." he says, getting closer to the woman.
kneeling down to the woman, he looked her over. Brushing a leaf from her hair rather quickly, whether she enjoyed it or not, he took a step back, brushing his hand through his somewhat short hair. "I've a mind you don't enjoy this job, good lady?" he said, pulling out his sack of gold. "I imagine a woman of your unjust class barely manages to scrape up enough copper to feed whatever family she has, and I find that truly shameful, I do. Were I the baron, the woman would be held in much higher regard, but I guess that's more to do with my devotion..." he said sternly, looking towards Fearn with a bit of a grin.
"Though, Fustra? Fustra is your name, I request a favor. Leave this place; he said as he fished out 200 gold coins, an amount this poor woman would never see in her life if she even so much as saved it all. -and go find something worth your gender to do..."
"Though, Fustra? Fustra is your name, I request a favor. Leave this place; he said as he fished out 200 gold coins, an amount this poor woman would never see in her life if she even so much as saved it all. -and go find something worth your gender to do..."
Fustra's mouth dropped at Shadrick's offer. ”M-M-M-m-a-a” Was all that she was able to mention while keeping a tight grip on the broom. Before her, a new opportunity stood and Fustra would be able to do something...better with her life.
”Yess..YESS!!! OF COURSE!!!”
Groping for the coin purse, her hands brushed against the fighter's magnificent armor and Fustra began to shudder. Maybe once..she caught the glimpse of Shadrick's eyes and managed to give a small curtsey before seeing herself off.
With one less soul in the graveyard, the Mausoleums of Ioziff and Henric stood before the heroes.
Fearn scowls. Suborning the girl from her duty isn't quite the done thing, but it has removed her from the area without trouble. Shadrick is a puzzle. On one hand he works for good, for people he has never met. On the other he has probably seduced the baron's wife, enjoys pain and 'carnage', almost certainly worships some evil mistress. What drives him this way? Has he grown so intertwined with darkness that he is permanently warped? And will I have to stand against him? Sanira's different. Her god is known to me and her motives are plain. At least the Midnight Lord holds his bargains for a time.
no
Ioziff Baroi, we mean no disrespect. We merely seek the truth of your death." Fearn steps toward Ioziff's death house and draws the door open.
Ioziff Baroi, we mean no disrespect. We merely seek the truth of your death." Fearn steps toward Ioziff's death house and draws the door open.
Passing through the lavender dyed stone, Fearn had entered the hallowed ground of the Baroi's oldest son, Ioziff.
The chamber was rather small - barely enough for 3 people to stand comfortably in. In the center laid a mahogony colored coffin which bore Kuthite symbols and the Baroi family crest. Though a considerable amount of years had passed since the proud man's untimely death, the tomb seemed immaculate and new.
Nicola stands outside the tomb, weighing on his cane. "Who doesn't love graveyards," he says half-sighing, wishing that he was as lucky as the young girl a moment ago-- she had gotten paid for being here.
He idly plays with the ferret, who stares at him with thoughts unbound and wisdom in its goofy face. He scratches it under the chin, making it yawn repeatedly.
Tapping Fearn's shoulder before he heads inside, it lights yellow like a torch, providing Shadrick the necessary illumination to make out any details.
"Mavis, a hand with this if you please. " Fearn positions himself at one end the of coffin at pushes the lid upward.
Strength check --
Sanira stood by and watched the desecration of the Baroi's crypt. While she hated the current one, she hadn't known his brothers well enough to kindle a hatred.
Still, though, she didn't want to arouse the Midnight Lord's ire. She stood at the entranceway of the tomb, silently watching as the dwarf approached the stone coffin.
After successfully wooing the graveskeeper Fustra from her post and ensured a bright future, Shadrick slowly entered the mausoleum of Ioziff Baroi.
"Hm...these Baroi's spare no expense in their funerary rites. Shame though, it could've been spent on a better use..". Shifting past Nicola and taking a spot opposite to Fearn, Shadrick leaned in and placed hands within the cold ledge of coffin.
"On...one...two...THREEE" he said while hefting with all his might.
Ioziff's coffen cracked and creaked while Shadrick and Fearn struggled with lifting the lid off the container. Though part of the wood splintered on the Chelaxian's end, it was what was inside the coffin that caught the interest of the men.
Upon the bottom of the coffin was a burlap sack the size of a small child and filled with rocks. No body, no Ioziff...just a mundane object.
The evidence was more than enough to confirm that the Baron had been up to something.
"Hmmph. Why would the baron fail to bury his brother? And what did he do with the body?"
Sanira stepped forward to the coffin, examining every nook and cranny of the coffin. Surely, not even the heretical Baroi would deny his family their rites? How would Zon-Kuthon's faithful ever find their way to his Midnight Palace in the afterlife? Surely, there had to be a good reason. Not even the Baroi would be so much of a fool - unless he truly had no regard for how badly the Master would torment the soul of a traitor. An idea occurred to her - a final hope for the Baron's redemption.
"Perhaps this is not the first outbreak of the plague? I can imagine few other reasons for such blatant disregard of faith. Mayhaps the Baron was actually trying to protect his town by interring the bodies elsewhere."
Though unlikely. The Baroi will pay for his crimes against Karpad, even if I must personally deliver his rent soul to the Master.
Nikola fed his ferret a pinch of dried meat from a pouch. "I bet he's alive somewhere else," he says mysteriously before patting his animal and allowing it to climb back inside of the inside of his coat.
It was a strange proposition, but not impossible. It was certainly easy to make someone disappear beneath the shadows of Nidal. Not quite as easy to hide a nobleman, or the heir to a Barony - but still possible.
"But where? And why?"
The obvious questions. Sanira chided herself for stating them, but supposed that someone had to do it. She leaned forward, and with a few whispered words of prayer, scanned first the coffin, and then the stone tomb for any signs of magical intervention.
"We should look for Henric's body as well, just to be sure."
Fearn frowns. "Hmph. I can't see the current Baron killing or kidnapping his brothers. He doesn't seem to even enjoy the position."
"Perhaps."
The dwarf was naive. Although such disobedience to the Midnight Lord was a travesty, murder and kidnapping were not unusual. Nidal was driven by two forces - the true Master, and the aristocracy. Marriages, assassinations, excommunications, and executions were too often driven by the lure of mortal power.
What was really strange was that the Baron seemed like too weak a man to put any such plan into motion.
Silently, Sanira slid out of the tomb and moved towards the other Baroi's crypt. Her concerns had overridden her sense of somber respect, and she moved to open the stone coffin herself.
Fearn jerks his head to indicate that he and Shadrick should slide the lid back into place. Once it's back he follows Sanira to the second crypt.
Shadrick mulls over as he assists the dwarf with putting the slab back on. With a sigh of relief, he re-asserts himself with the dwarf. "You know, Fearn, of all the people I've had the luxury of working with, I frankly never expected to be in the company of a Paladin. At least, not one that I'd be working with anyway." he says, planting the entirety of the slab on the ground.
"All of this... silliness. I merely came here to enjoy myself at first, and yet my own vices have me running around this blasted place." he states, scratching out his red hair. He looks over to the other coffin as Sanira proceeds to lift it up. "Ostracized Fetchlings, a shitty Baron, a crestfallen chief, and so many other things." he spits towards the corner. "Don't even get me started on that clown. That's the part that made the least sense." he states as he walks towards Sanira.
"Are you humble because you're in the presence of so much darkness in hearts, or are you just tolerant?" he asks, throwing his arms up and spinning around. "I'm quite certain you've tried to figure me out this entire time, but frankly I'm just a simple man with simple vices. Aren't we all?" he says with a bit of a chuckle.
"What even brought you here?
Fearn stops. Which question does he want answered? And how much can I tell him? He opts for the easiest.
"Chance and a failed hunt placed me in Karpad today. Weeks ago a mysterious stranger arrived in my village of Tunbore at dusk, a dark man and silent. The gate was being closed for the night and the watchman should have gotten a good look at him, but he later claimed a shadow covered the man's face. In the morning the town well was poisoned and the stranger was gone. It took us the better part of the day to realize the well had gone bad. Naturally suspicion fell on the stranger and Filok, Hammerstone, and I rode out to find him."
"Twelve days we followed the stranger's trail. We nearly had him at a mountain stream, but he forced us back with a ring of fire and disappeared from our sight.
"Filok is an in comparable tracker. He picked up the man's trail a long arrow's flight away from the scene of the fight, and we resumed our chase. We dogged the stranger's steps but the trail grew fainter and fainter. Until yesterday even Filok could trace him.
This morning we took council. Filok and Hammerstone decided it was hopeless, but Torag told me to come down the mountain and ask for this man in the villages here."
Fearn pauses. What is Shadrick? A man with a hidden strain evil beneath his gentle cultured facade. "A man of simple vices", and some small deceit. But he has fought beside Fearn when Fearn was fighting for right. A Brother in Arms then? Maybe he's earned more than just the easy answers. Fearn hesitates. If the veil is torn, can it be repaired?
"Shadrick, you've proven yourself a worthy sword-brother, but you're anything but simple for me. I don't know if I can trust what's inside you, but among my people, we speak our minds plainly and I think you've earned that. "{/b]
Fearn's chin drops to his chest and his eyes search the ground for a heartbeat. Then he raises his face to look up at Shadrick. [b]"Today is a test and a lesson that I may be failing. You are right. I am cowed by this land. Where is my voice that read Hammer and Tongs for the people on feast days? Why does my hammer lie idle in my hands while that fat priest bleeds his people? Why does Baroi sit unmolested when I could urge him to his duty? "
[Silently, Sanira slid out of the tomb and moved towards the other Baroi's crypt. Her concerns had overridden her sense of somber respect, and she moved to open the stone coffin herself.
Strength: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16
While the two unlikely friends exchanged words, it was Sanira who managed to wrest the middle Baroi's coffin. With a loud creak which seemed to interrupt Fearn's assessment of Shadrick, Sanira was beset with another baffling scene – another burlap sack weighed down by rocks. To be truthful, the revelation was expected and as such the lack of body belonging to Henric's grave was just absurd.
Clearly, there had to be a reason for this.
With a sigh, Sanira closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer to the Master - a prayer of vengeance and agony for the crimes likely committed here.
"As expected," she muttered. For the sake of congruity, she inspected this grave as well - searching for any clues of what happened or why, and expecting nothing.
As Sanira takes her time to check the graves, Shadrick keeps his conversation with Fearn going. As the man lists his troubles, he can't help but count them all and consider the possible answers.
Today is a test and a lesson that I may be failing. You are right. I am cowed by this land. Where is my voice that read Hammer and Tongs for the people on feast days? Why does my hammer lie idle in my hands while that fat priest bleeds his people? Why does Baroi sit unmolested when I could urge him to his duty? "
Approaching the Dwarf with arms crossed he chuckles a little. "Yeah, I'll actually not to being too simple." he says, waving an arm about himself. "I doubt you're really failing anything, to be honest. You're in the "enemy's territory, right?" he says, accenting the word enemy with his fingers. "Rules get foggy around here. As for your voice, I think you did pretty well with that lynch mob earlier today." he says, grimacing.
"I still can't believe we had to deal with that by the way. I'm rather happy that clown is dead. Have I mentioned that?" he states, obviously showing an air of disgust.
He looks back to Sanira, and then proceeds to walk up to Fearn and guide him away from the woman so as to not draw her ire for what he's about to say. Exposing the wounded forearm, he sort of wags it in the Dwarf's face. "Funny enough, I don't much care for this scar... If anyone's going to be getting the shaft from their respective deity for being out of sorts it's me, haha!" he says with a boisterous laughter.
He strokes the wound a bit, checking to see if he can get the scar completely worn away after some hefty scraping. "I really need to get rid of this thing as soon as I skip town..." he states. He stops guiding the dwarf away, but then looks back towards the direction of the Baroi's manor. "Me? I'll admit to being a bit of a stickler. Fine food, women, trinkets, and the like." he says, counting the things on his fingers.
"I've killed men, but it was in the right, atleast, by my standards, anyway. Never stole a thing, and women go without saying." he says. "Long story short, yeah, I'm not the most righteous man in the world, but there are worse... like that bastard Baroi." he says suddenly taking on a darker tone.
"If you've done anything wrong today, friend, it's not bash that fool of a baron's head in."
Is Sanira within earshot of this exchange? She doesn't have much to add, save a rather passive animosity for all outsiders, but I'm just wondering if she's now a little more aware of why you fellows are mucking up her town.
Despite casting a cursory glance around the tomb, Sanira finds nothing magical.
...
Approaching the Dwarf with arms crossed he chuckles a little. "Yeah, I'll actually not to being too simple." he says, waving an arm about himself. "I doubt you're really failing anything, to be honest. You're in the "enemy's territory, right?" he says, accenting the word enemy with his fingers. "Rules get foggy around here. As for your voice, I think you did pretty well with that lynch mob earlier today." he says, grimacing.
"I still can't believe we had to deal with that by the way. I'm rather happy that clown is dead. Have I mentioned that?" he states, obviously showing an air of disgust.
Fearn shakes his head. "Morality shouldn't change with environment. Good is good. Evil is evil. I should protest Miklos' treatment of his people -- carving them up like pumpkin lanterns when he should just heal them. But this place overwhelms me. How does good line up with their laws?"
... Shadrick changes the subject and Fearn nods in relieved agreement, "Jeroi, or whatever his name was, must have been mad..."
He looks back to Sanira, and then proceeds to walk up to Fearn and guide him away from the woman so as to not draw her ire for what he's about to say. Exposing the wounded forearm, he sort of wags it in the Dwarf's face. "Funny enough, I don't much care for this scar... If anyone's going to be getting the shaft from their respective deity for being out of sorts it's me, haha!" he says with a boisterous laughter.He strokes the wound a bit, checking to see if he can get the scar completely worn away after some hefty scraping. "I really need to get rid of this thing as soon as I skip town..." he states. He stops guiding the dwarf away, but then looks back towards the direction of the Baroi's manor. "Me? I'll admit to being a bit of a stickler. Fine food, women, trinkets, and the like." he says, counting the things on his fingers.
"Nothing wrong with liking any of that. It's how it affects your dealings with people and the gods that matters. I like a cool hard cider from time to time. "
"I've killed men, but it was in the right, atleast, by my standards, anyway. Never stole a thing, and women go without saying." he says. "Long story short, yeah, I'm not the most righteous man in the world, but there are worse... like that bastard Baroi." he says suddenly taking on a darker tone.
"If you've done anything wrong today, friend, it's not bash that fool of a baron's head in."
"There's no law against imcompetence and weakness. There was nothing to be done. But seeing how he planted Ilquis in town, I think you are right. Baroi has much to answer for. There is no tribunal within reach. But you should be careful, Shadrick. Rare is the killer who thinks he was not justified. But when we too face Pharasma, we will answer for everyone we sent to her before us."
Fearn looks around. "Sanira, what did you find?"{/b]
....
And after discussion, Fearn will propose a rest and tackling Baroi in the morning. [b]"I've traveled long and hard today. Our fight with te shadows and fey has quite wiped me out."
"Nothing, as expected. Both of the Baron's brothers are missing from their crypts, and only the Master knows what the Baroi has done with them."
She fell silent, contemplating what the Baron might have wanted with his brother's corpses. Sliding the stone slab back into place, she nod her head in agreement with the dwarf.
"A rest sounds good - it's strange how weary true darkness can make you."