"Where can we stay? That morose excuse for an inn?"
"Anything beats the ground, I always say." Shadrick says with a bit of a matter'o'fact to his statement. He shrugs and slightly grins. "We could always call on the ever-endless charity of the good Baron, no?" he states followed with of a bit of a laugh.
"The inn is likely our best bet..." He looks to the rest of the group and takes a moment to admire the situation at hand. Silly as it was, he'd started to enjoy the company of this bunch, even if one would likely try to make him "Orthodox" in the future. Well... Two of them.
All the more reason to stay secretive, no?
And so at the mention of Shadrick Mavis, the party had left the empty graves that marked the Baroi's mausoleum and bound for the place where it all started – Karpad's town square. Dim light from candles in nearby homes kept a small vigil for those wandering at night, but past that gallows and plaza stood a building that spoke of hospitality and welcome – The Weeping Willow.
The building was two floors high darted with thick windows and intricate framework that suggested that the inn was the only gaudy building in comparison to the Baroi's Estate. A pair of heavy doors gave way to a quiet common area where two lone people stood milling about. Behind a long counter of polished mohagony stood a heavy set woman who's skin mirrored porcelain. Mustering up enough energy for a smile, she resumed her task of cleaning the bar and its contents.
The other occupant of the Inn who had a cleaning rag turned and addressed the party. ”Heh we've got visitors Lorin...fetch the mulled wine from the back..wouldja dear?” Putting down the wet rag, the male advanced forward where he had a better view of the party.
”Well...well! We're in the presence of those outsiders who attended that debuachery of a hanging earlier!” Raising his arms, the party could see a series of cuts that traveled the length of his exposed fore arm. ”Sorry, its been a long day. The name's Boris and you're in Karpad's finest inn – The Weeping Willow! We've room and food for you...outsiders provided that you've the right coin.”
As Boris introduced himself, he sized up the party and gave several gleeful comments. ”I've naught the pleasure of housing a dwarf within our esteemed inn, but I do hope what we've here is enough for someone of your kind! Ha ha!” Said the Owner with a forced chuckle. Unfortunately, Karpad wasn't that well of a known town that accepted visitors.
All seemed well as the owner bounced around eyeing up how much gold he could make in the night until Sanira entered the tavern. Seeing that she took a place along the Dwarf, Chelaxian, and the Cripple, Boris' facade dropped as he stared at the fetchling with a loathing gaze. Removing himself, The owner stepped back and joined his wife on the opposite side of the counter where he fished for an object.
”Like I said, the Weeping Willow has a vacancy...However, your mutt'll have to go elsewhere. Can't have a fetchling in here, no sir, all beasts belong outside.”
With an awkward situation on the rise, Boris and Lorin made their point clear by pointing toward the door and suggesting that Sanira should be removed.
With a shrug, Sanira headed for the door to the inn.
"I'd expected as much," she told the outsiders. "I was simply being a hospitable host showing you to this miserable excuse for an Inn. I'd invite you all to stay at my own abode - but it's a tad small. And I doubt you'd much care for my accommodations."
She stepped out the door, then turned around for one last remark.
"I'll come to rouse you soon after the stars set. Enjoy the bedbugs."
As much as she truly did expect it, every act of antagonism against her kind was like a crime against the Master. She swore a silent vengeance against Boris, adding him to the long list of villagers she counted amongst the mild heretics - with the Baron at its head.
This is just a little too much for Fearn. He stomps toward the innkeeper.
Shadrick is somewhat taken aback by the sudden racism. He'd accounted for it, but, he didn't think this would happen. He sighs a long sigh after Fearn finishes his boasting; a long, drawn-out sigh of pure disgust.
"I've stifled a foolish man's riot today." he says as he walks up to the door, trailing on Sanira's coat tails. "I've witnessed a foolish clown die. I've seen fey defile the corpses with your confounded disease, and I've witnessed the death of shadows from the plane of darkness." he states.
Placing his hand on the door, he actually turns around after placing a hand on Sanira's shoulder. "I've received loving charity for our accomplishments from these "mutts" you speak of, some far prettier than your wife, I might add, you uncouth sack of stitches..."
Walking up to the bar he points a long, daggered finger at Boris. "With all due respect;" he says, turning to Fearn and Nikola, "I have expended my charity for the unfortunate and dismal today, and I would much prefer the company of those who would enjoy mine."
And with that, he followed Sanira out of the Inn.
Karpad's lack of visitors meant only one thing – The Weeping Willow was the only public residence where travelers could find refuge for the night and it was for that fact that the owner's did little to welcome their potential guests by showing blatant racism and poor service when Sanira attempted to enter the establishment. Even within the presence of a paladin of Torag, Boris had no problem in displaying animosity and further proving how Stephan Baroi's lack of leadership allowed for such atrocious behavior and conduct to happen unpunished. Though Sanira, having grown up within the shadow of the Nidalese was accustomed to their ignorance and shrugged it off like rainwater.
"I'd expected as much," she told the outsiders. "I was simply being a hospitable host showing you to this miserable excuse for an Inn. I'd invite you all to stay at my own abode - but it's a tad small. And I doubt you'd much care for my accommodations."
Leaning forward, Boris' face revealed a smirk before he was caught off guard at Fearn's impassioned speech.
"You ungrateful great-gammed lout! That woman's a warrior who's fought all this night for your miserable little town. She helped us quell the fetchling mob. She stood against a crazed fey and shadows that would steal your life with a touch.
"She's paid in blood and pain to keep you and yours safe. Your Father Miklos gave her his blessing.
"You'll apologize to the lady and then you'll thank her for keeping you, your wife, and your spawn, from an eternity of empty hungry unlife. !"
Surprised at the paladin's sudden display, confused looks were exchanged between Boris and Lorin as Fearn's voice boomed within the quiet Inn. Lorin's face flushed and she quickly turned her back on the party while pretending to be working while her husband stood there dumbfounded. Boris stammered and tried to come up with a reasonable retort but was left struggling for words.
Before either of the Weeping Willow's owners could find ways to compose themselves, it was Shadrick who hammered the so called nail into the coffin.
”Shadrick is somewhat taken aback by the sudden racism. He'd accounted for it, but, he didn't think this would happen. He sighs a long sigh after Fearn finishes his boasting; a long, drawn-out sigh of pure disgust.
"I've stifled a foolish man's riot today." he says as he walks up to the door, trailing on Sanira's coat tails. "I've witnessed a foolish clown die. I've seen fey defile the corpses with your confounded disease, and I've witnessed the death of shadows from the plane of darkness." he states.
Placing his hand on the door, he actually turns around after placing a hand on Sanira's shoulder. "I've received loving charity for our accomplishments from these "mutts" you speak of, some far prettier than your wife, I might add, you uncouth sack of stitches..."
Walking up to the bar he points a long, daggered finger at Boris. "With all due respect;" he says, turning to Fearn and Nikola, "I have expended my charity for the unfortunate and dismal today, and I would much prefer the company of those who would enjoy mine."
And with that, the Weeping Willow had no patrons that night. The heavy doors of the Inn swung back and forth as the heroes left but only one thing managed to escape Boris' mouth - ”Whats...uncouth?”
Once again outside, the party's lodging options seemed to drop: The Baron's Residence wasn't a possibility because Stephan's was a horrible host and The Weeping Willow had poor service and practiced racism towards fetchlings. There was only one place left to rest for the night – where true allegiance lay – ShadeRow.
Unlike the Nidalese section of Karpad, Shaderow was without most amenities. Aside from rows of poorly constructed huts, three buildings stood out – a general store, an inn and a tavern. Leading the way, Sanira pointed out to Fearn, Nicola and Shadrick that the fetchling's inn - “The Shadow's Embrace” wouldn't deny them the same service as the “Weeping Willow”...though it lacked any modicum of gaudiness.
Following Sanira to Shade Row, Fearn is quiet. He leads Hayna while trudging along on foot. Suddenly he speaks.
"Nicola, Shadrick, Sanira. I have lived most of my life among my own people. How representative are the humans here of the race as a whole?"
Shadrick laughs at the question. "Well, for the most part, the human race is full of ignorant, happy, somewhat bland regulars. Call them diverse, but at the end of the day alot of people are just looking out for their own hides..." he says with a bit of a sigh.
Still, don't worry. The people here are pretty vile. I mean;" he says with a bit of a chuckle. Anyone who would reject the lovely Sanira obviously has something wrong with them. Frankly speaking, Dwarf, as I mentioned before Nidale is the proverbial anus of human dwelling. The poor are sad, and the rich are too, and everyones up in arms over who can get their kicks out of stabbing themselves the most."
"Atleast the Mavis house in cheliax is chipper. I personally can't wait to return home when all of this is over."
"Do remember whose lands you tread upon, human. Watch your tongue while within the Midnight Lord's domain, or lose it. I have heard ornamental tongue piercings are quite popular in Pangolais - of course, only a few use their own tongues." She paused, taking a deep breath before she acted without prudence.
"But yes. This particular batch of humans is truly vile. They disrespect the Master with their fear of the shadow-blessed. The Baroi is a fool, and the Umbral Court has little concern for the petty failings of a minor lord's holdings. And so you see Karpad truly at its finest."
Sanira could feel the eyes of the fetchlings upon her as she led the outsiders back to Shade Row. Hopefully they had calmed themselves down from the day's rather hectic events. Near the center of the ghetto was the inn, The Shadow's Embrace. It was little more than a bunkhouse, with a few beds and a fire to keep it warm through the chilly grasp of night.
She turned to Shadrick before opening the door.
"While I'm sure you and your devil-worshiping kin would cherish the opportunity for all of us to sell our souls to Hell itself, I think you misunderstand the Master. While your 'gods' wait to drag you down into oblivion, ours has protected us for millenia. A little sacrifice is nothing for the joys of serving at his side. So do try to keep your disdain for our ways - my ways - under wraps while you stay here."
"Oh rest assured, dear Sanira. I have no privy with devils, nor does my house. I have no ill-will towards Zon-Kuthon, rather, he and my respective deity's methods are quite similar, only, mine is... rather forthcoming." he said with a bit of a laugh.
He watched as the Fetchlings peered out of their respective hovels, each obviously scarred with the prevalent racism.
"I respect my mistress because she wants us to use our own power, and solve our own problems. In fact, she'd prefer we not make them. All she wishes I do is be merry, and partake in whatever pleasures life sends our way."
Turning to Fearn he cast him a wide brow. "With all of these subtle hints, Fearn, I'm impressed you've yet to figure out who I pray to."
"Are you not Familiar with the fallen angel Lilith?"
"Fallen angels are just fancy names for your Chelaxian devils, are they not? I must admit I am not exactly well versed on the pantheon of the Hells."
Fearn scowls and tugs his beard. "The memory of dwarves is long, but not long enough to number all the legions of darkness nor their captains.
Now he mocks me. When we have sorted this I will gladly return to Tunbore. People are plain there and say what they mean and help each other without taking blood in payment.
After a long and exhausting day, Sanira had bid the heroes a farewell as she left them within the foyer of the Shadows Embrace. The inn keeper regarded the outsiders with great interest for among the fetchling community, Fearn, Shadrick and Nicola fought for justice. Between the riot that had been prevented and the ousting of the vile clown – they had earned the respect which...lead to a free stay.
The Shadow's Embrace...was not without its limits and barely passed as a suitable inn. Beyond the sheet thin wall opened up to a row of bunks – 4 separated by rags and chipped boards. It wasn't much, but the fetchlings proved to be the better ally. And with that, it didn't take long for the heroes to finally pass out.
- - - -
That following morning, the heroes were greeted by the incessant cawing of ravens which seemed to be everywhere. Pale light shown through the inn's cracks showering Fearn's armor set creating a starburst effect in the room. But something didn't seem right. To Chelaxian and Dwarf's surprise, Nicola had disappeared!
Unlike Viluki who relied on dirty illusions, a note simply rested upon the tattered sheets that had served as Nicola's bed. Yellow in color, a purple string kept the note together. But with a gently tug it opened up revealing the following in common.
”Friends. This whole experience has been rather unsettling as more dark forces come into play. While the concerns of Karpad deserve my full attention, I feel as though Desna is pointing me to a different direction. I feel confident that you all can take care of the rest with Stephan, and I do hope so!
The note ended with the drawing of a small swallowtail.
With one less companion, it could be said that Karpad stood as testament of the faithful.
- - - -
Fearn wakes early. Perhaps it was his internal clock, calling him to worship, perhaps it was just Nicola making some noise as he left. Not wanting to disturb his companions, he sits upright in his bunk, spiritually communing with Torag, his mouth forming the words of worship, but not forcing the sounds with his breath. Peace, calm, and well-being flow over him as the room gradually lightens. Strength replaces the weakness from the shadow. The minor aches and scratches from the previous day fade.
When the armor reflected starburst fills the ceiling the dwarf smiles at the omen. Today is a day for victory!
His good mood is ruined when he climbs out of bed and looks in on his companions. Nicola gone! Fearn could understand the man bowing to his goddess' guidance, after all it was the rule of his own life, but he couldn't fathom the goddess pulling him away from a job half-finished and a threat so dire.
Waking soon after the sun broke through the comforting blanket of darkness, Sanira rubbed both the weariness and the light from her eyes. They were still a bit sensitive after her short bout of blindness. Which only served to remind her of the shadow and its cryptic words.
She shrugged it off. There were bigger issues at hand. Most notably, of course, was the Baron himself. She sat on her bed, the deliberately stiff mattress shifting slightly as she sidled nearer to her armor. Whispering dark prayers to the Master, she began to strap on each piece, the metal digging into her flesh and drawing blood forth to enhance her prayers. She relished this moment, and almost thanked the outsiders for the opportunity. Her expertise was in such little demand in Karpad that she'd begun to think the Midnight Lord was punishing her with it. As strange as it was, it was because of these outsiders that she'd finally had a chance to act in the Master's name - and to challenge the foolish Baroi.
After an hour of reverence for her Master and scorn for the Baron, she finishes eating a meager meal of cold vegetable stew - the best that Karpad could spare for the shadow-blessed kayal - and set off to meet the outsiders. With any luck, they'd all managed to stay out of trouble through the night.
It was somewhat unnerving, waking up amongst the Fetchlings. He'd certainly been busy these last few days, and to make matters worse he couldn't help but still feel that burning hatred for Baroi. He'd slept on the floor, much to Sanira's dismay, really. Leaned up against the wall he'd past out from both physical and mental exhaustion pretty readily.
Standing up wasn't exactly the easiest thing he'd done and he felt his arm surge with that unholy pain that he would likely free himself of as soon as the situation at hand was over. Until then, he merely pulled his sleeves down to cover it beneath his coat.
Sighing a rather lengthy, drawn out sigh he opened the front door, meeting the gaze of the sun. It wasn't much of a glow here in this shantytown, but it was still the sun. Whether it was covered in foreboding fog or not. He couldn't do much about yesterday, and the idea of women having died as a result of the baron's actions was more than enough in his own code to kill him.
The question was how? And more importantly, when? Perhaps he'd see this thing through to the end and then come back at another time to really finish the job.
He raised his hand into the air as he went back to rejoin with the rest of the group.
The sun broke through heavy clouds giving the small town of Karpad respite from the recent plague of darkness. Though in the wake of illuminious light, much of the commoners continued to mill about. Farmers pushing carts that bore little harvest hoping to peddle enough to survive another day. Guardsmen patrolled the streets keeping watchful eyes on any wandering fetchlings.
What Fearn and Shardick noticed is that despite a hanging taking place the previous day, everyone seemed to continue about their business as if nothing happened.
The gallows was surprisingly empty except for an armored individual. Amid the dilapidated instrument of death stood Sanira, who regarded the approaching Fearn and Shadrick with a rueful smile.
- - - - - - -
Fearn looks from the man to the fetchling and back. They may not be his first choice of comrades, but they have proven themselves brave and worthy in battle. And despite some wayward tendencies they've both shown themselves willing to work for the good of the townsfolk.
He stops to smile at them both and to enjoy this brief unsullied moment in their company. He knows that later in the day this brief unity may crumble, even the first words said here could disturb the peace and strength he now draws from their quiet presence.
Must I perturb the bond first? His heart bids him speak with such urgency that he can not wait to choose his words carefully. He can only hope that rough sincerity carries its own diplomacy.
"Torag brightens my eyes with the sight of you both. Together we have done well for Karpad. It is my fervent hope that we conclude the quest before us without strife between us. Know that should you walk in the law to Tunbore or wherever I abide, you will have water, salt, and a place by my fire."
Sanira was caught more than a little off-guard by the dwarf's sudden heart-to-heart, even after wincing at the name of his dwarven god. In less than a day, she'd seen more compassion from Fearn for her and her people's plight than in a decade among the humans. Even the strange human seemed to have a fondness for her, and a concern for Karpad's ills.
She hated to admit it, but perhaps these two were guided to Nidal by the Master. Perhaps it took an outsider, one not bound to the will of the Umbral Council, to mend Nidal's flaws. Perhaps the council served not the master, but their own ends...
Shaking her head, Sanira quickly crushed the heretical thoughts.
Still, she'd heard tales of dwarves. Tales that said they were as hard as the very rocks they lived beneath. Fearn did not seem as rough around the edges as the stories suggested, but his strength of spirit was itself inspiring - if a little misdirected at times. Earning his trust was nothing to be taken lightly.
"Indeed, your company has not been entirely unpleasant. And while I doubt I will ever see your homeland, Fearn, I appreciate the honor. I only wish I could offer the same." She gestured to Karpad, the early morning fog rising from the river doing its best to dilute the sun's dim rays.
"This day's light will bring us once more to the Baron's doorstep. Let us hope the Master sees fit to end this quickly and without dispute."
"So be it." Fearn intones in agreement. His eyes slide from Sanira to Shadrick. Fearn is a little surprised the man hasn't spoken. He seems to have had an aptly prepared word for all other occasions.
Dusting himself off as he joined the others, Shadrick was a bit taken back by the sudden amount of heart to heart speak that had been going on. They'd known each other for only a few hours, at best. However, he couldn't help but agree.
"It's a shame we have to part after this, as well. As soon as my business is done with the good baron, I'm afraid I've business to attend to back in southern Cheliax." he said, placing his full helm back onto his head, though not completely so they could still hear him clearly.
"Let's hope this is the last day we have to deal with this, as well. I would much like to see the women in the area, of any race, far happier than they currently are." he said with a bit of a chuckle. It was a sullen one, however. The actions of the baron still weighed heavy on his shoulders, and no amount of delectable sarcasm was going to wash it over.
"Fairly said, Shadrick. Let us go to see Baron Baroi."
Fearn leaves his pony Hayna with the innkeeper. If anything happens to him, he'd rather some poor honest folk benefit from the beast.
Amid the darkness of Karpad, three individuals cultivated a light that could bring change to the Nidalese hamlet under the guidance of a paranoid stricken Baron. While they shared intimate sentiments and a comradiere befitting of a minstrel's tale, it would be these three individuals – a Proud Chelaxian Fighter, a Stalwart Dwarf Paladin of Torag and a Fetchling Oracle blessed by her Master.
Bounding to the east, the trio marched with confidence to the Baroi Manor which stood upon a hill that overlooked the town. Pockets of sunshine tried to break through the already amassing clouds which seemed to be permanent within the corpseland.
Arriving at the entrance of the Baroi Manor, somewhere between those walls of rich decadence and depression lay the Baron who had some answering to do.
- - - -
Despite herself, Sanira could hardly contain her sadistic pleasure at finally watching the Baron squirm beneath his accumulated crimes. It took every fiber of her being to maintain firm composure - and even then, she was unsure she'd be able to stop herself from striking Baroi herself.
"I doubt the Baron or his servants will open the door for a kayal. One of you two should take the lead... at least until we get the Baron in our grasp."
Her fists clenched, as if they desired to wring the miserable man's neck.
"When we reach the castle, I will speak to the butler. The baron is probably least displeased by me. Once we are inside, how should we proceed? The baroness could be an important source of information if she knows the history of the family and the brothers." Fearn colors slightly red. "Shadrick has her ear. Maybe we should start with her."
"In any case I think we should stick together this time. Ilquis may have returned to the baron last night. They fey is a greater foe than any of us could handle on our own."
Bless: Allies gain +1 on attack rolls and saves against fear.
Bless WaterM: Makes holy water.
Bless Weapon: Weapon strikes true against evil foes.
Create Water: Creates 2 gallons/level of pure water.
Cure Light Wounds: Cures 1d8 damage + 1/level (max +5).
Detect Poison: Detects poison in one creature or small object.
Detect Undead: Reveals undead within 60 ft.
Divine Favor: You gain +1 per three levels on attack and damage rolls.
Endure Elements: Exist comfortably in hot or cold regions.
Magic Weapon: Weapon gains +1 bonus.
Protection from Chaos/Evil: +2 to AC and saves, plus additional protection against selected alignment.
Read Magic: Read scrolls and spellbooks.
Resistance: Subject gains +1 on saving throws.
Restoration, Lesser: Dispels magical ability penalty or repairs 1d4 ability damage.
Virtue: Subject gains 1 temporary hp.
Shadrick grinned wide. The idea of seeing the Baroness was tempting, if only to twist the blade deeper into the baron himself that he would eventually literally proceed with the idea of... "Yes, indeed. I don't doubt that for a moment, concerning the Baroness. She was the one who informed me of their son." He smirked. "I wonder what will happen that he's the son of a bastard like that man?" he said with a bit of a giggle.
Looking to Sanira, he couldn't help but feel the wound on his forearm pulse with Zon Kuthon's unholy "grace." "Excuse me Sanira, but you wouldn't happen to know how to remove this gaudy thing, would you? Baron on the horizon regardless, I still have no real use for it."
The red on Fearn's cheeks deepened to crimson. He had no idea what had happened between Shadrick and the baroness last time, but the two of them being alone hadn't seemed quite proper. The man's broadening grin seemed to confirm his worst suspicions.
This time we won't leave them alone.
Sanira glared back at the human, doing her best to refrain from sneering at him. His blatant disrespect for Zon-Kuthon would have been cause enough for death under most circumstances. Fortunately enough for him, these were not typical circumstances. The matter of the Baroi was far more pressing than him.
Just as I imagine him learning the graces of the Master... Just another miserable, self-interested human.
"I am afraid not - the gifts of the Midnight Lord are not simply gaudy baubles that one can don or toss with the passing of each moon. His blessings - and our servitude - are far more enduring."
Fearn watches the interplay between his two companions. I hope we can hold this alliance together long enough to settle the baron and whatever foulness infects the village.
The interplay between the “heroes” was heartwarming as the dwarf, the fetchling, and the human shared their ideas and insights regarding the baron Stephan Baroi’s fate. Pressed with the unsettling knowledge that a diabolical fey creature was running amok within Karpad and reducing its citizens into monstrous waxen golems.
Something had to be done about the situation and it was up to Fearn Keniv, Sanira, and Shadrick Mavis.
After an impromptu series of loud raps thanks to the Fearn’s armored hand, a bewildered Laurentiu appeared within the threshold of the Baroi manor. Taken aback at the appearance of the trio, he sighed heavily and looked upon each of the companions’ faces hoping to a solution to his master’s problems.
” Your return means two things – Either you were successful in your endeavors or your actions were for not. Pray tell, which of the two is true?” asked the retainer of House Baroi as he cast a stern look despite.
- - - - -
Speaking of Ilquis -- what have we got in hand to use against him this time? I had Fearn prep lesser restoration in case we run into more shadows, but I bet FMC would let me change it if we come up with a strategy now, before we get into a situation.
Fearn shuffles foward so that his ironshod foot and shoulder will catch the door if Laurentiu tries to shut it. "We're making progress, but rare is the straight road through the wilderness. Your master made a deal with a fey, Ilquis. Ilquis is not helping to cure Tallowthroat as he told the baron. The fey is a murderous creator of undead. "
Having stepped forward, Fearn had entered the threshold of the Baroi mansion where little space remained between Laurentiu and himself.
"We're making progress, but rare is the straight road through the wilderness. Your master made a deal with a fey, Ilquis. Ilquis is not helping to cure Tallowthroat as he told the baron. The fey is a murderous creator of undead. "
Though the present company had been enlisted for their aid, it was hard for Laurentiu to believe the bold claim that Fearn had spoke of.
"Surely, Master Fearn, your claim is...of fiction? While my master has indeed acted without rationale, even my own Master wouldn't illicit such strange and profane services. And even this were to be - your statement only strays from Karpad's fate."
"I assure you, it is not fiction. Baron Baroi contracted with the fey Ilquis to provide a cure for Tallowthroat. The fey deceived him. We were not able to ... kill Ilquis, but we did disrupt his scheme. That leaves the Baroi household as a target for Ilquis' revenge. We must see the Lord and Lady."
He didn't like the choice of words, but it was true. Without some means to banish Ilquis back to the First World, death was the only way to contain such a powerful enemy.
"I assure you, it is not fiction. Baron Baroi contracted with the fey Ilquis to provide a cure for Tallowthroat. The fey deceived him. We were not able to ... kill Ilquis, but we did disrupt his scheme. That leaves the Baroi household as a target for Ilquis' revenge. We must see the Lord and Lady."
Laurentiu's eyes widened at Fearn's bold claim. Surely, no one in their right mind would make such an idle statement. Sensing the urgency of the situation, the Retainer quickly welcomed the companions within the Manor and escorted them to Stephan's study.
Rounding the corner, Laurentui arrived at Baron Baroi's study where the door had remained...locked.
"Young master! You have company to see you...regarding Karpad." said the Retainer as his hands rapped against the door in a patient rhythm.
The short lived silence was broken as beyond the door came resounding an all too familiar voice; one filled with paranoia and fright - Stephan Baroi.
"Laurentiu, fear is robbing your master of the ability to defend himself. Do you know what causes this fear?"
"Laurentiu, fear is robbing your master of the ability to defend himself. Do you know what causes this fear?"
Sequestered within his study, the Baron Stephan Baroi had shielded himself from the world and what little family remained. Even after enlisting the aid of competent adventurers, none would come to breach his defense without finding an edge against the distraught noble.
A mixture of shame and depression filled the retainer, as he was faced with those who would bring light to the Karpad's hour of darkness. Looking upon the dwarf once more, Laurentiu folded his hands and breathed heavily.
"Sir Fearn, I know not what troubles my lord. Having served this family for much of my life, I have known the Baron and his lineage intimately. It wasn't until the arrival of this mysterious contagion, that has caused my Master's current state."
Faced with even desperate times, Laurentiu struggled to hold the air of respect and pride needed as per his station within the Manor.
Shadrick walked into the room behind Fearn and Sanira with a wide smile, clapping rather loudly after hearing everything the man had just said. He even clapped for Fearn as well.
In all honesty, Shadrick was appaled to even be back in the manor, and he couldn't much stand the fact that someone as piss poor as the baron garnered so much respect for something as pitiful as Stephan.
"Good baron! We meet again!" he said, obviously sarcastic. "I don't mean to be rude, or rather, I do, but we're going to need you to be a lot more calm if I can properly scold you for being the daft bastard you've been."
Shooting a glance to Laurentiu, he merely shook his head. "Stupidity is a state? This man's done nothing but sell out this pitiful hovel..." Gripping his scythe, he continued to approach.
Fearn continues to work on the servant.
"Laurentiu, what was your master's state before the Tallowthroat outbreak? Miklos thinks the baron hasn't been himself since the death of his brothers."
Sanira had remained deathly silent since entering the manor house - upsetting the Baron further was a foolish move, even if she despised the man.
But Shadrick's outburst... even if she didn't entirely disagree with his assessment, it was unthinkable that an outsider would hold such an air within the lands of Zon-Kuthon. She reached out and grabbed Shadrick's arm, glaring at him.
"The Baroi deserves little respect, but do try to be civil. It was the Master's will that he rule this town."
With a deep breath, she let the man's arm drop. She silently prayed that Zon-Kuthon would understand the actions she was about to undertake. If he did not - she dared not think of the consequences.
In moments flat, the companions were faced with the Baron who had tried so desperately to hide from the world. Everything about the room spoke of paranoia. The arm chair that had served as the Baron's literary throne had been pushed to the far corner of the room where two candelabras rested near, each bearing a dried fountain of voluminous wax giving the impression that they saw no end. Papers, covered in smeared ink, possibly blood, and other foul stains littered much of the carpet, joining misplaced books, tomes, and scrolls. The curtains, a decorative velevet with embroidered gold had been removed their post and served as a blanket now wrapped Stephan Baroi who very much appeared like a crone hidden amongst a swamp hut. Staring deeply at the approach of the companion, Stephan emitted a low whine which only gave further creedence to the Chelaxian's fervor.
"Good baron! We meet again!" he said, obviously sarcastic. "I don't mean to be rude, or rather, I do, but we're going to need you to be a lot more calm if I can properly scold you for being the daft bastard you've been."
cried the baron.
”But Master Stephan, these are the heroes of whom you hired. They're here to report what they've found. Please, heed their words.” said the Retainer with the patience of father.
Whimpering, the Baron sat there nervously twitching at the menacing face that the approaching warrior made. But beyond Shadrick, Stephan's fear shifted as he saw Sanira.
While the Baron was busy trying to keep his wits, it was Fearn who placed in an interest in the retainer.
"Laurentiu, what was your master's state before the Tallowthroat outbreak? Miklos thinks the baron hasn't been himself since the death of his brothers."
”Well Sir, my master had been pensive and somewhat reserved, but this current state is rather new. Though, I cannot blame him. Beyond the fair child, there isn't anyone left within the Baron's family to continue the family. Dark times are indeed close...” the retainer said in the strictest of confidences with the paladin.
If needed sense motive:
"THe fair child"? Is Stephan Baroi light-skinned or blonde? Or is Laurentiu referring to someone else?
Fearn feels confident that what the Retainer is saying true. Beyond the untimely deaths of both of Stephan's older brothers, the child that he and his wife brought into the world would have the responsibility of continuing their once proud lineage - if they're able to survive this blight.
"We can still stave off the dark, but we need the baron's help. Can his wife do anything with him?"
We're not going to be getting any help from the Baron. The fool has gone completely mad, and I've already snapped him back to reality once!" he says, turning on his heel instead of walking towards the big door. Throwing his arms up, he actually drops his scythe onto the ground as he moves towards the door keeper.
"You're people are ill. You're baron is mad! His relatives are missing from their graves! You're women die with grotesque throats that explode with bile!"
Grabbing the keeper's arm. "It is literally against my faith to let your women die so gruesomely! Your mad observer is foolish! This is not natural! AT ALL! You're foolish lord has done nothing but sequester himself off in shame and paranoia... He has done SOMETHING."
Forcing the man back roughly, he continues.
"You let us into that door this instant, and I promise you we can fix this" With that, he turns, picks up his scythe, and points to the door.
"We can still stave off the dark, but we need the baron's help. Can his wife do anything with him?"
The retainer nodded, but only ever so slightly. It appears that the plague, strange missings, and evil shadow play aren't the only thing at work within the Baron's lands.
Laurentieu, smiled wrly and replied to the paladin's inquery as he folded his gloved hands. "Mister Fearn, it would quite helpful if the lady of this family was able to help the Baron. However, not even her good graces can penetrate the thick shell of my master." The frustrating part about the entire ordeal was that all the problems seemed to radiate from the Baron, who showed a complete lack of control that betrayed his office. Out in the streets lied the potential for a civil war fueled by paranoia and despair which was only staved off by the glorious light of Torag's intervention. However, there had to be a solution. Pressed with the information of Ilquis' involvement, and the even greater mystery of why a greater shadow's presence was nearby, the group was no closer to the end than they were upon the adventure's genesis.
Sensing the growing ire within the Chelaxian, Laurentiu produced a key that unlocked the door. "Please, be rational." he said as the study opened wide revealing a terrified and distraught Baron.
Meanwhile within the Baron's study, Stephan continued to cower in the corner of his salvation, eyed by the entire party.
"YOU! PLEASE! I'M BEGGING YOU!!! NO FETCHLINGS IN MY ROOM! ONLY THE HOUNDMASTER IS ALLOWED FOR MY MASTIFF APPRECIATES HIM!" Unsure who was the true master, the Baron's plight envolved into escalated terror as he prostrated himself at Shadrick's feet, which seemed appropriate considering Cheliax's relationship with Nidal.
Placing pallid finger's on the warrior's armored legs, the Baron pleeded.
Now, the interesting part is that Sanira had never encountered the baron outside of this adventure, but her presence alone - fetchling - was enough to inspire terror.
"Your master will come to no harm that he does not bring on himself." The dwarf assures the servant.
Fearn turns to Sanira, "We need information. I think you and Shadrick together might get it without spilling blood."
Fearn shuffles into the room behind his copmanions. He tries to position himself so that he can act quickly if Laurentiu tries to interfere or if Shadrick gets carried away. He trusts the Kuthonite to respect the baron's station.
Sanira took a deep breath, wondering how she'd been dragged into this situation. Her Master would either bless her with his shadows... or condemn her to a life of true agony.
"Good Baron," she began, trying to quell her own emotions in favor of propriety. It proved rather difficult.
"I will remove myself, as soon as you start providing the answers we need. You leave Karpad - my village - - to a fate it does not deserve! A fate that the Midnight Lord would look upon with disgust. You have failed in your duties, not just to Karpad, nor Nidal, but to our Master himself. Do you truly dare to defy our Lord? I strongly suggest you start cooperating, and atoning for your crimes, lest you be flayed for an eternity before Zon'Kuthon."
Sanira uses intimidate to influence the Baron's Attitude.
Intimidate DC: 10 + target's HD(4?) + target's Wis mod (-1). 13
Sanira is successful!
Duration: 10 minutes. LETS GET CRACKING!
At the point right where Sanira wanted the Baron, his gazed was fixed upon her like a child fearful of its parent ready to unleash punishment. A tremor shook within Stephan Baroi, he had trouble trying to compose himself as he faced with an Arbiter of Zon Kuthon's will. Different from those ready to sink down to unabated violence, Sanira stood with the airs of confidence as she acted impart of her Master's will.
"I will remove myself, as soon as you start providing the answers we need. You leave Karpad - my village - your village - to a fate it does not deserve! A fate that the Midnight Lord would look upon with disgust. You have failed in your duties, not just to Karpad, nor Nidal, but to our Master himself. Do you truly dare to defy our Lord? I strongly suggest you start cooperating, and atoning for your crimes, lest you be flayed for an eternity before Zon'Kuthon."
Not even the Baron's fear of the shadow's could prepare him for the Oracle's impassioned speech. With his eyes flickering between Sanira, Shadrick, Fearn, and Laurenteiu, he sought aid but garnered none.
"P-p-ple-please, I d-d-d-din't mean f-for al-all this to h-app-en" he said with a stammer. His forehead gathered a sheen as sweat began to form, giving further evidence that he felt like a caged animal. "I d-did what I could to re-sto-re what was mine!"
Rising to a knee, Baron Stephan Baroi was acting like the penitent, confusing his sins before the face of his bane born from the Prince of Pain's will.
Looking at the man grovel at Sanira's feet eased his body and soul, thinking it right proper in regards to his faith, but Shadrick still, at his core, felt that it wasn't right. Sanira, a lovely woman who so followed the will of Lilith without even realizing she was... Need not concern herself. With. This. Wretch.
He gently pushed Sanira aside, farther away from the pitiful man.
"You are the lowliest man I have ever seen, and I say that with great disdain, having swam amongst the beggars and down trodden of Cheliax." he says, tightening his grip along his scythe. "Women have died. Women, Baroi. What was yours doesn't matter anymore. This no longer concerns you, and frankly, your ill-timed fate would effect nothing..."
With that, he loses control for just a moment, lunging forward and stamping his foot on the barons hand, holding his movements, and raising his blade against the man's soft, welcoming neck. "NOTHING. IT WOULD EFFECT NOTHING! Do you hear me you blasted fool!"
Twisting his heel, he began questioning, much to Fearn's surprise. "Where is it! WHERE! What is the root of this you blasted fool! Answer me before I make your NECK SMILE AND NEVER STOP TALKING IT'S CRIMSON FOOLISHNESS YOU BASTARD!" Shadrick roared, seizing somewhat with unholy zeal.