Laurenteiu's eyes widened at the appearance of the envelope, recognizing the waxened seal of the Boroi Family.
He didn't open the letter out of respect, but merely nodded while taking a step back.
"Young masters and mistress, please recline here within the Antechamber. I implore you to NOT wander. Though this Estate may be extravagance that is unparalleled from your adventurers -- but here in Nidal, not all items within the home....are safe. I will return in just a moment." the retainer had said, while scurrying off.
For an aged man, he managed to move with long strides. Perhaps, the Witch could learn a thing or two from the retainer.
"I'm afraid that the Baron's.... indisposed. However, the Lady Anya Boroi awaits you in the sitting room. Shall we?" The retainer said while turning a step towards where the Baroness waited.
Shadrick nodded.
"We shall." He said, following in stride. He was, after all, here for just that woman.
Upon arrival at the gate, Fearn dismounts and wraps Hayna's reins around a hitching post by the gate. He nods to Laurenteiu's mention of Janderhoff, and gives the retainer his name, but otherwise lets Shadrick do all the talking.
He hopes to get a few moments with the retainer once Shadrick is closeted with the baron. That hope is blown when Laurenteiu says that he will take them to the the baroness instead.
He hesitates, uncertain that "we" includes him.
The companions had followed after the retainer, wary of what he meant by “baroness”. Though it would've seemed rude to constantly poke and pry with questions, they had remained silent taking in the décor of the Boroi Estate. Shadrick followed after, eager at meeting the esteemed hostess; though his mind was riddled with what sort of aid the baroness might need. He had chuckled to himself, enjoying where his mind was taking him. However, the fantasy was short lived as he ended up bumping into Laurenteiu opening the doors to the Sitting Room.
The Baroness, catching full view of her eager guests, smiled wryly. She was tight lipped and thin with chestnut brown eyes. Her demeanor was almost bird like with rich auburn curls that ran along her shoulders. The Baroness wore an elegant dress with short sleeves, revealing lace-like scars that ran the length of her arms – a common trend among devout Kuthite women. Though the town was morbid and morose, the Baroness was lively and excited.
”Thank you Laurentieu, I'll take it from here. the hostess standing at the sight of her guests welcomed them with interest. ”Ah, you are the company of which my dear retainer had spoken about. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Anya Boroi, wife and Baroness of this here Karpad. Please, please, take a seat and enjoy some refreshments.
She pointed to several soft looking arm chairs that were circled around a low glass table adorned with a carafe, figs and several chalices.
Laurenteiu, giving a slight nod had removed himself once the companions had settled in.
Alone with the Baroness, the heroes were treated to a finely decorated room. Red wall paper adorned the walls with gold leaf floral patterns. The room smelled like musty old books, but it was rather pleasant. And looming above was an unlit chandelier that seem to rest in place like it didn't exist.
As the heroes enjoyed themselves to a light snack and sweet wine, the Baroness stirred up a conversation.
“So...I'm to understand that....one of you wished to seek my husband. Well about that -- as of late, my husband has taken to his study, consumed with his thoughts. As his proxy, how many I help you?”
Nicola kept standing, turning to pace about the room and observe it while Mavis went about his business.
Of course, wasn't his business to check on the baron's wife?
She was checked on.
Nicola raised an eyebrow to Mavis, intrigued by the turn of events. This had to be romantic in nature, then? What was Shadrick's play in this, and what was the Baron trying to achieve?
Nicola picks up a trinket from the wall, looking it over before setting it down. He peruses the books and listens intently.
Fearn follows the party through the house. Very curious about a Nidalese greatman's house, he peers intently at the furnishings as they walk.
In the sitting room he shivers a bit at the sight of the Baroness' arms before he bows formally to her. Are the people here all so devout? The scarring, the fingers. What kind of god demands such meaningless and pettily harmful sacrifices? Does fear of worse hurts drive inspire this, or do they truly enjoy it? At the back of his mind lurks the unformulated knowledge that this land does indeed inspire fear. More than good manners bids him hold his own tongue.
Fearn stands a little to one side and glances about, but his gaze always returns to the conversation between Shadrick and Anya Boroi.
Delighted at the sight of such open mutilation akin to Sanira's, Shadrick takes no time in moving in closer, kneeling down and kissing the woman's hand as his usual greeting towards women of high class.
He raises his head, looking up directly at her, slowly standing back up and not breaking eye contact. With as much honey as he can muster in his prescence alone, he makes a simple statement.
"I was originally sent here to check on you, actually."
Anya, who had playfully fingered her glass of Muscatel wine, its sweetness permeating the air; was elated at Shadrick's sudden display of respect and affection.
”My, my, we've got quite the gentleman and quite the kisser, too!”. Flashing a smile at the crimson haired man, the Baroness continued. ”Sent...to check...on me? Oh, I'm flattered!” Flustered, with a tint of red appearing on her cheeks she quickly became inquisitive at the fighter's statement.
”Oh...I can see why..." she said while placing a finger on her chin. ”Since the outbreak of Tallowthroat, any sort of communication in and out of the town has been stopped. Can't blame them really, imagine what'll happen to Nidal if this contagion went beyond these walls?” Reaching for a fig, she noticed that a fetchling girl had sat nearby.
”Oh..do forgive me. You're quite...different than the...others. By chance are you related to Gavril? He's the Hound Master here, and the only shadow-tainted that's remained in service of my husband's estate since the outbreak.”
Sanira stood near the door, simply watching and listening. Being inside the Baron's estate made her uneasy - the Baron had always kept her away. Only a few of the shadow-blessed were even allowed within spitting distance of the manor. And here she was now, in the parlor. Had something drastically changed the Baron's attitude? Perhaps he was just as mad as the rest of the town had become.
With arms crossed, Sanira leaned against one of the decorative posts along the wall. Half expecting to be thrown out at any time, she remained silent until spoken to.
...And was remarkably surprised when someone did address her, if only for a moment.
Shadow-tainted...
"I did not have the fortune to know my parents. They - like yourself - thought of my condition as nothing more than a curse. My first week of life was spent in a basket, waiting for death. That week of suffering has well acquainted me with our Master. So, no. I am not related to your servants."
She glared at the woman from beneath her helm. She had never actually met the Baroness before - she kept to herself within the manor. But from the first words out of her mouth, she seemed no different than her fool of a husband.
Fearn tries to follow the conversation while taking mental notes. Tallowthroat. That must be the disease. Groy's neck had that mobile lump.... Communication stopped? But Nicola, Shadrick and I were able to just walk in.... SHe's implying the outbreak came before the fetchlings were sacked. But it's Sanira's news that suddenly interests him. Hmmm. Was Sanira born of human parents?
Shadrick stands back up to his feet, rather stumped.
"I was told to check on you, though I doubt it was as simple as merely coming here to grace my eyes. Surely there's more to it? You seem to be at the peak of health, no?
He gently let go of the woman's hand, studying her... just to be sure. Of course.
"I was told to check on you, though I doubt it was as simple as merely coming here to grace my eyes. Surely there's more to it? You seem to be at the peak of health, no?
”Health? Hah! Nothing's short of a quick healing from the revered Radu Miklos!” she said while wiggling her right foot which was encased in an embroidered blue velvet slipper. ”Surely, any price for my well being is not above a Boroi or the Midnight Lord. Plus, with all but one fetchling in service and seldomly any guests, I'm a kept Black Rose within a bell jar.” she said with a prideful smile.
Leaning back in her chair, the Baroness gave a disappointed look to Sanira.
"I did not have the fortune to know my parents. They - like yourself - thought of my condition as nothing more than a curse. My first week of life was spent in a basket, waiting for death. That week of suffering has well acquainted me with our Master. So, no. I am not related to your servants."
”Oh...its a shame. I thought you all were related. Hmph, oh well.”
A small silence had befallen the room where the Anya had scanned each person within her sitting room. It wasn't every day that she had received visitors, let alone exotic and unique in each way. Playing the part of a good hostess, the Mistress had spurred the conversation once more after a plentiful helping of Muscatel wine.
”So...I gather you all are here together as some sort of union to help Karpad, yes? I've little idea of why a dwarf, a handsome and dashing chelaxian and an elderly Varisian would grace my home without open desires of charity or perhaps....something more.” Anya had quickly said, ignoring Sanira who had leaned against a decorative post.
”I must say though, my husband would've done us a great good of gracing us with his presence...but he's not the same man who had betrothed me. “ Her eyes cast downwards, she had stared at her glass catching a reflection within the chalice. ”Since the genesis of Karpad's contagion, Stephan had taken to his study, barring everyone from his life! Even me! A woman with my fine tastes...has needs – and I cannot fathom what would trouble him so... “
Shadrick grinned wide at the compliment.
He spread his arms out with a shrug.
"Then I have an idea. My companions wish to have a look around the manor, and I believe this conversation is mostly flattery. Now, while I could go on with that for minutes, I would request a private audience with you, if you didn't mind." He said, raising an eyebrow, whilst sliding his white teeth slightly in his mouth through the grin.
"There are a few thing's I'd very much like to learn about, but, I would privy the information for important reasons.
"Then I have an idea. My companions wish to have a look around the manor, and I believe this conversation is mostly flattery. Now, while I could go on with that for minutes, I would request a private audience with you, if you didn't mind." He said, raising an eyebrow, whilst sliding his white teeth slightly in his mouth through the grin.
"There are a few thing's I'd very much like to learn about, but, I would privy the information for important reasons.
The Baroness gave a coy smirk and stood up with a dignified look. ”My...my, we've barely made acquaintance and you're already asking for a private audience with me.” Anya's eyes rolled up and down the length of Shadrick Mavis, sizing up the man's good looks and demeanor, hoping to ascertain the Chelaxian's true intentions. Having little regard for her other guests, she had assumed they would egress or move on, which was gestured as the Baroness glided towards the threshold of the Sitting Room. Turning around, she smiled once more at Shadrick.
”I...suppose so. I am a hostess afterall and seeing to my guest's needs is an important duty..." Leading the way, the Baroness shuffled down the corridor hoping that her “tail” would follow.
Sanira expresses her displeasure with the Baroness by huffing as she and the armor-clad human depart.
"I suppose if we're playing this game, I'd like to speak with Gavril privately. No offense to you folk, but neither outsiders nor humans have much favor among the shadow-blessed. There must be a reason why the Baron chose to keep him on, and no others. Perhaps he can cast a fresh shadow upon this incident."
After finding Gavril, Sanira takes a moment to size the man up. While it was true that he was among the shadow-blessed, his position among the Baron's servants meant he stayed in the manor house - a fine gift compared to the Shade Row.
Releasing an iron spike from her belt, she draws the fine point across the flesh of her forearm, drawing a trickle of blood from the injury. She wipes her right palm across it, tinting the metal of her gauntlet a pale crimson. She offers the hand to the man.
"May we always walk in the shadows of our Master. Gavril, was it?"
Sanira waits another moment before offering him her tool, almost as an afterthought, holding the bloody spike outward towards him.
Where do this man's loyalties lie... Our Master, or his?
When the baroness has left, Nicola sets down the trinket he was perusing back where it goes. "Elderly," he says with a shake of his head. "Not even a decade older than him by my reasoning. I suppose any man could stand next to Shadrick and pale in comparison. Is it the cane, perhaps?"
Nicola turns to Fearn. "I suppose someone should speak to Laurentieu to see if they can weasel something out of him."
He raises his eyebrows, a smirk on his face. "If you can't tell by my affable demeanor, I'm not one for speaking. I think that I might take a walk around the house and take in the beauty of the manor. Unless you'd like me to accompany you?"
Fearn watches Shadrick and Lady Baroi depart. What are the man's intentions? Should I be acting to protect the honor of the house? Fearn thinks about Shadrick at the hanging and with the fetchling mob. He is a brave man, and seems to mean well. I hope I am not deceived.
At Nicola's query, Fearn nods. "Weasel, no? But I would like to bespeak Laurentieu. Let us wander the house, and I'll wager the man or some helpful servant finds us. I am curious to see how the Nidalese nobility lives anyway. Lead on."
As they step out, Fearn asks, "The customs in Karpad are so different from home. Have you traveled widely in Nidal? Is Karpad typical?"
Sanira trudged through the rather well decorated Manor in hopes of finding her fellow kin, passing by vast rooms filled with decorations and paintings, but devoid of people. Figuring that the her destination would be near the rear of the estate, she followed the corridors until it joined to an end room. As she neared, the sounds of hounds roaring at her presence permeated the walls, bingo.
Opening wide the double doors revealed a medium sized chamber where iron cages bearing large black dogs lined the walls. Upon a stool in the center of the kennel sat, Gavril, an aging fetchling who had been preparing a meal for the hounds. His hair was stark black, pulled into a tight hair style that fell behind his short ears. Everything about Gavril spoke of conditioned respect and servitude – but to whom?
Turning his head slowly out of respect, he gave a quick shudder to see someone not of the Baroi Estate.
”By the shadow, a fellow kayal! he said, looking with alarm and great interest.
Releasing an iron spike from her belt, she draws the fine point across the flesh of her forearm, drawing a trickle of blood from the injury. She wipes her right palm across it, tinting the metal of her gauntlet a pale crimson. She offers the hand to the man.
"May we always walk in the shadows of our Master. Gavril, was it?"
Sanira waits another moment before offering him her tool, almost as an afterthought, holding the bloody spike outward towards him.
.
Looking around nervously to ensure none looked upon him, the Houndmaster gladly received the fetchlings grip, and tool. Pulling back his workman's tunic revealed skin as pale as the night, save for sparse hairs that ran the length of the man's arm. In turn, dragging the tool across his ulna, his eyes relished in the release of blood from his skin.
The large black hounds of the estate barked and snarled at the sight of Sanira, who remained motionless and devoid of any fear. Gavril, recognizing the fetchlings mettle smiled and blew a whistle, calming the hounds as if Stephan Baroi had been present.
”By the shadow's will we are bound. Forever blessed, and favored among our Master” he said with renewed vigor. ”It has been too long since I've been with my people, for the esteemed Baroi favors me to tend to his hounds, further separating the distance from my beloved Kayal. If memory serves me right, you are unlike any shadow blessed I have seen...” said Gavril as his eyes poured over Sanira. Before him stood a beautiful and morose woman, who'se armor and appearance spoke of a true dedication to the Midnight Lord – a demeanor few kayal express within Karpad. ”What is your name, child and how can this houndmaster be of service?
- - - - - -
Left to their own, Fearn and Nicola had taken the cue to wander at their leisure around the Baroi manor. Though the estate was large and luxurious, it seemed more or less like a Mausoleum as few people inhabited the dwelling. Several maids and butlers had scuttled by, hoping to avoid the attention of their guests.
Getting the impression that all wasn't at what it seemed, the dwarf pressed on, forging his own path through the Estate. In his search, he came upon a disturbing sound – crying?. The sound seemed to come from an inconspicious door that opened to a small room crammed with...well junk. A spinning wheel caked in spider webs and dust had nearly blocked the door which stood near crates and boxes filled with tapestries and scrolls. To the far end stood Laurentieu who was before a large but tarnished painting of the Baroi manor.
The retainer was shocked and embarassed that he had been caught in a tender and private manner. Quickly righting himself, he spoke with a hard tone towards the Dwarf and Varisian whom he had meet earlier.
”Yes...young sirs. Is there something I can help you with?"
As Shadrick followed the woman down the hall a lovely grin covered his face. Ideas, and things. This was a woman of high-esteem, as well, and was most certainly a fan of the "Midnight lord"
Zura's cults had frequently come into good terms with the Kuthonites, but they just as easily broke out into massive bloody skirmishes, which, ironically, pleased both deities at the same time.
As he followed, he thought of plenty of questions to ask, but only one in particular really surfaced.
"I feel as though I've not really done anything to garner a favor, baroness. You were informed of my coming, no?"
Fearn's first day in Karpad was definitely something he wasn't expecting. Having encountered a botched up miscarriage of justice, peer mediating a disgruntled and broken father, quelled a riotious mob and now...standing before a teary eye old man, Torag had certainly deemed a path for the stalwart Paladin.
He took a long breath, patiently observing the retainer that stood before him - trying to understand why this particular nidelese outpost was riddle with drama and dilemma.
Hm...seems like a family portrait...so many figures. A trio of boys joined at their sides by mother and father...how endearing Fearn had thought.
Taking a lean against one of the crates, the dwarf spoke in an older friend's voice, hoping to find out the truth of Karpad's situation by mediating Baroi's retainer.
"Laurentieu, level with me here. You were so impressive and headstrong earlier." Flashing a friendly and compassionate face."Torag recognizes that we all forge our own paths, and judging by what I saw, you've got quite the mettle - - So what could be troubling you?
With a nearly imperceptible nod of approval, Sanira took back the bloodied spike and returned it to her belt. She was satisfied, but his eagerness was something she was unaccustomed to. Her brethren on Shade Row did not jump at the opportunity - even if they should - to show loyalty to the Midnight Lord.
Perhaps this Gavril merely puts on the act he believes I'd wish to see - but even if so, he is still more devout than the Baron or his wife.
"I am Sanira, seer of our Master. You may remember me from the days before you joined the Baron's estate, though I was but a child then. I've lived on Shade Row all of my moons."
With a pause, she looks towards the hounds, stepping closer to their cages before speaking again. She looks over the dogs as she speaks, wondering if Gavril was as good a Houndmaster as he claimed to be.
"You must know of the plague that has befallen Karpad. The shadow-blessed have been accused of being its heralds. Mere hours ago, some of our kin lay with their necks in the noose. And just moments ago, the steward of this estate quelled their riotous spirits. This uneasy peace cannot last long, and endangers our master's will. Yet our Baron does nothing?"
Sanira turns as she says this, watching him as he chooses his next words.
The hounds seem to take interest in Sanira, watching with their beady black eyes. Some had laid down in obedience, while other's paced the confines of the iron cages.
Gavril was taken aback at the news of his fellow kayal in danger. Though, he shuddered and breathed heavily, slumping down on a stool nearby. Blood continued to trickle down on the hard dirt wooden floor of the Kennel.
”"You must know of the plague that has befallen Karpad. The shadow-blessed have been accused of being its heralds. Mere hours ago, some of our kin lay with their necks in the noose. And just moments ago, the steward of this estate quelled their riotous spirits. This uneasy peace cannot last long, and endangers our master's will. Yet our Baron does nothing?" “
”Even I, the Baron's esteemed headmaster rarely see him despite living within such vicinty of his lordship” he said while wiping his damp forehead. ”I was there when the outbreak had started...”
The kayal had sat motionless for moment, recalling the events that ostracized the houndmaster from his fellow kin.
”It was first Royce, the sommelier. He was a twig of a man, though knew full well of grapes and their craft when tending to the Baron's vast cellar. Steadfast in his work, he never allowed any distraction befall his work out of fear of the Baron's cruelty – a time when Anya had not entered Stephan's life. Stephan was precise, meticulous and condenscending, as if we didn't exist. Though, the Baroness had welcomed a change into Stephan, providing us some leniency and a different man.”.
Gavril's tone became morose, as he began to choke on his words.
Then one day, Royce had befallen to a strange malady. A bulge had manifested in his neck, upon which no one knew its origin, though the sommelier continued with his work. While I was in the servants quarter's praying to the Midnight Lord with our kin, an blood curdling scream permeated the walls of the Estate. Rushing to the source, we had found Royce dead within the garden. His neck...rendered open with such violence ; his blood seeped in the ground. While we stood in horror, screams and yelps could be heard in the distance, which seem to cometh from Karpad's town limits...”
”In the days to follow, Stephan was possessed with inquiry held an investigation. It came to pass that several others had befallen the same condition of Royce. The Baron noticed that none of the shadow-blessed had contracted the disease. So, out of frustration and desperation, all fetchlings were removed from Stephan's service – save for me.”
His eyes cast downward, reliving those forlorn days.
”Puzzled, I didn't know why the Baron had deemed my purpose different than the others. His was response was – 'only you understand Ioziff, my prized Mastiff, and I forbid you upon penalty of death to leave my service.'”.
The baroness had glided down the corridor and rounded a bend to where a pair of large ornate doors stood open, giving berth to a voluminous room. Faded tapestries of crimson and lavender marked several of the walls where gold crown molding had joined both wall and ceiling. A large four poster bed comprised of soft fabrics and large pillows rested in the center of the room.
Anya moved gracefully to the bed where she fluttered up, and sat, leaning slightly back. Her eyes moved up and down Shadrick who had arrived within the threshold of her boudier.
”"I feel as though I've not really done anything to garner a favor, baroness. You were informed of my coming, no?"
A smile formed on her lips as she playfully bounced her soft delicate feet in the direction of the Chelaxian. ”Your coming? Oh, that doesn't really matter now. Come, caress my aching feet and I might consider awarding you a favor...or perhaps you had something else in mind?
The baroness' demeanor was like that of a canary in her cage. A woman with so much warmth and personality bound within the morose and dour walls of a sleepy hamlet faring dark and dreadful days.
Laurenteiu's shoulder's went square as the retainer struggled with confiding his feelings with the dwarf. Running a gloved hand along the back of his head, he spoke up in a steady tone.
”I have been in the servitude of the Baroi's for several generations, having known Stephan's father, Demetri quite well. It had been a time when things were..brighter. The Estate was filled with laughter and joy, as Stephan and his two brothers ran along the corridors enjoying whatever little game they had created. It had brought me many tears to see them grow up into fine men, but as years passed, the Boroi clan had grown smaller. “
pointing to the portrait, his finger is aimed at the two older boys who stood to the left Stephan..
”Iozif, who was the oldest was a strong and charismatic child was favored highly upon Demetri and the Baroness Beatrix. It was Demetri's dream that one day he would pass on the Baroi name to Iozif, when the ruthless child would come of age to rule. After Demetri's passing, Iozif had claimed the estate, but his rule was cut short when he succumbed to a mysterious illness. Not even the esteemed Father Miklos could save our lordship, having seen the great son pass onto the great beyond.”
A slow tear ran along the retainer's face.
”Then there was Henric, who took the grave news of his brother's tremendously. Taking upon the mantles of leadership, he had kept the family together, watching over both the estate and Stephan who had just been a youth. But, his reign meet a similar fate to Ioziff, leaving poor Stephan.”
He kissed his finger tips and placed them on the family portrait where dust and cobwebs had taken the place of love and care.
”I fear...that in these dire days that these colors begin to fade for the want of wearers, as Stephan is but the last of his line. Many generations of proud Baroi inhabitated these walls and in its wake rests Stephan's last and legimitate heir apparent – Merek – though she is just a baby. My sadness comes from knowing that I am unable to help my lordship, as you can very well see – that Karpad is slowly crumbling..." Laurenteiu said with a hard face.
Nicola shoots a look to Fearn-- it seemed as if Father Miklos was to be the next person they spoke to. He seemed important enough-- perhaps this illness that was sweeping Karpad was the same that took the two brothers?
"And you're sure there's no way we can speak to the Baron on this matter, of Karpad's disintegration? I feel as though I've been brought here to steady the falling walls of the town you so cherish. Help us help you."
"Nicola is right. Disease sweeps the town. The town watch is going rogue. People are disappearing. We are willing to help, but we need to better understand what is happening here. Why doesn't the baron act?"
Dmitri was surprised at the sudden gesture. His mind immediately turned to darker thoughts and delusions that would most certainly please his deity, as well as himself. Truly, he enjoyed the idea of laying with this woman, but... time constraints were there, unfortunately.
He cursed in abyssal under his breathe. So many reasons to, and so many not to.
Regardless, rubbing feet wasn't about to cause anyone to have a heart attack, so he was more than happy to do that. Pampering was, after all, one of his specialties. As for future ideas, well... his thoughts sort of just trailed off.
As he massaged her feet, kneeling down in front of her; "This is most definitely not the first of these rooms that I've been in, but, I'm not about to exchange stories on that sort of thing with such a refined young lady such as yourself, at least... No, no, certainly no time for that. While my acquaintances are doing their business, tell me, what is it that ails your' significant other?"
The words certainly dripped off of his tongue like honey, but, he was in his element at this point.
"I'll have you keep in mind that... that wasn't any part of any favor. I'm simply curious is all, and you seem as though you've been through quite a bit, no?"
Fearn studies Laurenteiu's face while he waits for the man to reply.
Sense motive
Sanira watched the man, unsure of whether his words were in earnest. Perhaps he had forgotten what the Baron truly thought of the shadow-blessed.
"I'm sure it must be terrible to have earned the Baron's favor while the rest of us writhe in our hovels."
She shrugged, returning to the more pressing topic.
"Yet this does nothing to mend Karpad's waning shadows. Baroi only gives the shadow-blessed more reasons to loathe his rule. We must respect the Umbral Court's commands - if the Barois are to rule Karpad, then the people must obey. Such is our Master's will."
Such is the Master's will... but why?
With the complete segregation of the shadow-blessed, the hangings, the nearly fatal riot, and now the Baron's own open dismissal of her kin, it was hard to imagine why her Master would allow such actions within his domain. A test of loyalty, perhaps? An act of heresy? Or was it one of the other gods trying to weaken the master's authority?
She paused, deep in thought, before gesturing to the both of them.
"We Kayal sit closest to the Midnight Lord's throne - and are treated like beasts. I cannot imagine that such treatment - nor this plague - coincide with the Master's will. Surely you must know why the Baron refuses to act with the authority Zon-Kuthon demands of him."
"We Kayal sit closest to the Midnight Lord's throne - and are treated like beasts. I cannot imagine that such treatment - nor this plague - coincide with the Master's will. Surely you must know why the Baron refuses to act with the authority Zon-Kuthon demands of him."
Gavril had stared blankly at the floor, gathering his thoughts as to why his lordship has refused to act in lieu of recent events.
”I cannot fathom why the Baron had taken the path of inaction. From what I understand, his desire is to rule, but makes no decision."
The houndmaster felt that he was at a dead end question. Though it was a pleasant feeling to be near one of his kin, he was at a loss for words.
”perhaps, speaking directly with lordship may reveal further answers, yet, I have one pressing matter I must divulge upon you
His face became hard, and Gavril's demeanor became serious.
”Being that you are far graced within our Master's call, I have...sinned” He said taking a rigid stance. ”Though my faith belongs with our Kayal, my heart has become soft and tender to a human woman who is unlike the others. My dear Irini, she is bethrothed to a man that loves her not that same as I.”
Gavril knew that what he confessed was his death sentence – having an affair with a married woman, let alone an interracial union would rouse such violence that nothing what be left of him.
In his defense he spoke up, hopeful and desperate, grabbing ahold of Sanira's hands.
”It is true, I'm not THAT ashamed to live within the Baron's splendor, for few ever dare to enter this hallowed estate. However, I noticed something disturbing you ought to know – aside from my union – Irini, whom I saw several days ago has gone missing. I do know this, Catalina, the Chandler had been the last person who spoke to my dear Irini. Normally a lively person, the Chandler had acted strange.”
His eyes grew wide with fear, and he begged Sanira to head his plead.
”What I have spoke was blasphemy, and I BEG you to please to what has happened to Irini. I will pay whatever price whether it is through flesh or the termination of my employment to the Baroi's if you, as herald of the Midnight Lord see to my request. I'm a dead man, please help your kin...” Gavril said as he began to sob.
Meanwhile, within the Baroi's bedchamber sat the Baroness who was at the complete mercy of Shadrick's massage. Anya smiled, giggled and he slowed her breathing as the chelaxian caressed the counters of her feet with such tender hands.
While my acquaintances are doing their business, tell me, what is it that ails your' significant other?"
Anya, who was in a much better state spoke her mind.
”My...significant other, isn't the same man whom I had falled in love with many years ago in that dimly lit garden. No, as of late, he barely tends to me or that of his barony. It pains me to think that his mind has wandered elsewhere. He's taken the path of a hermit, sequestering himself within that damn study, only asking for solitude and wine.”
As Shadrick's hands enveloped her other foot, the one where she had paid for healing, Anya acted tenderly, stopping the chelaxian in mid massage, and gazed deeply.
"I'll have you keep in mind that... that wasn't any part of any favor. I'm simply curious is all, and you seem as though you've been through quite a bit, no?"
She breathed heavily, and ran her fingers through the fighter's lucious locks.
”Yes. While Stephan hides, Karpad grows darker. She paused in mid sentence, not from Shadrick's delicate fingers, but from the truth that haunted her. ”I believe its that damn...mirror he seems to dote over...”
Anya seemed to lay back, feeling relaxed and presenting herself before the Chelaxian like a fine feast, she smiled and gave a small giggle.
”But...you're here. Say, is it true what I hear about Chelaxian men?
The room seemed to get warmer, and a blush formed on the Baroness's face. She leaned up, and as she was about to speak, something broke the romantic tension of the room – a baby's cry.
”Of all the time's...Merek..” she complained as her body went rigid, tossing Shadrick away. ”I must feed my youngest, of which I will not take audience for. But...perhaps another time.” she said with a wry smirk as she bound for a spiral staircase that led to small nook above. Standing at the top of the staircase, she called out once more to Shadrick before disappearing. ”My spouse has the answers. Lie if you have to, mention my child's name, Merek if he doesn't comply.
The child's incessant crying echoed in the room as Shadrick was left alone, confused and hot from his encounter with the Baroness.
- - - - -
Laurenteiu paused for a moment and cleared his throat.
”No young sirs, Stephan's brother's did not contract the tallowthroat. Their illness was as mysterious as to the shadows that plague these lands. I saw them, such bastions of busting youth drained by such a contagion that rendered them to the great beyond.”
Nicola is right. Disease sweeps the town. The town watch is going rogue. People are disappearing. We are willing to help, but we need to better understand what is happening here. Why doesn't the baron act?"
A blank face formed on Laurenteiu as he clutched a pendant that he kept hidden within his collared suit. The retainer's shoulders sagged as he took a place near the heroes.
I feel as though I've been brought here to steady the falling walls of the town you so cherish. Help us help you.
”Come, I will take you to the baron.”
And they say dwarves are taciturn. Maybe the baron will speak plainly.
Fearn nods and swings one arm to gesture for the servant to lead. As they walk, he considers asking Laurenteiu more questions, but wonders if the servant wirespond or even take offense bacause he seems to be prying. He settles for looking to Nicola and hopes the man will have more insight into how to crack the reserve of these people.
As the woman headed off, the furious beating of Shadrick's heart was all he could hear. She'd apparently had her ways, this baroness. Regardless, he was torn. He was happy that she hadn't taken that any farther, and he also cursed the fact it didn't. Surely the dwarf wasn't going to come barging in at any point, but at the same time, the chance had still been there...
Regardless, Mavis had obtained an excellent calling card. He could gain audience with the baron now, apparently, and that appealed to him greatly. He doubted anyone would honestly get in his way at this point. He bowed as the woman fled, taking his silent leave, feeling that words were a little shallow at this point.
He left the room, looking for the study she'd mentioned. He'd learned a lot of things. An injured foot, obviously. A mirror, and a son. Madness, apparently, as well. It was a wonderful story, considering, but there was plenty to worry about. Knowledge was a wonderful thing in touchy situations such as this, and this most certainly had not been his first touch situation with a woman.
He felt it a bit brash to ask the poor woman to guide his steps, so he simply left and wandered.
Suddenly the man's desire to impress his piety upon me makes sense...
Sanira's brow furrowed as she turned on the man, a cold fury burning beneath her visage.
"And you didn't think to mention this first? You've disobeyed one of the most simple of this land's laws. If you knew your relationship would end in death, why did you pass beyond the veil of shadow?"
She suspected she knew the answer to that question, and further suspected that it may lay within the jurisdiction of a certain Goddess. Treading on her domain was something any Kuthite feared, at risk of violating an agreement far older than any mortal record. Somehow, she knew she would regret her next words.
"However," she continued after a very deliberate pause, "I suppose the more pressing matter is her disappearance. Had she taken ill?"
"However," she continued after a very deliberate pause, "I suppose the more pressing matter is her disappearance. Had she taken ill?"
Sanira's reaction was expected, as Gavril had broken down before the pious kayal. The hound master knew that his other worldly feelings were alien if not heretical according to his faith, but the matter's of the heart were always a different and troublesome matter.
He stood silent for a moment, gathering his next words – out of shame and withheld permissions.
”My...Irini is a woman of good fortitude, both in mind and body – having even shared a special part of her life with me in secret. I knew that the tallowthroat appeared with her, but I had paid for her healing since her husband Maertin, neglected to do so...”
His last statement ended with a smirk revealing pride. Catching sight of Sanira's scowl, he had quickly resumed a neutral face.
”The Chandler, Catalina, I believe may know what happened to my dear Irini...Please, I beg you”
= = = = =
The retainer, Laurentei had led both Fearn and Nicola through the winding corriders of the Baroi estate to where the Baron resided. Rounding a corner, they came across Shadrick, who looked equally confused. At a simple gesture by the dwarf, the chelaxian followed suit as the present company traversed a pair of ornate stairs leading up to the second floor of the manor.
Unlike the previous floor, this one was smaller and dimly lit, as if some strange miasma dangled in the air. The smell of dusty books permeated the atmosphere as Laurentieu came to a halt before a large door. He took a heavy breath before making several raps at the door.
”My lordship...I wish to speak with you...
The a moment of silence passed, as the retainer waited patiently for his master to reply. He pressed he ear against the door listening for a response, or any sign of Stephan's presence.
His face turned red, and looking upon the group for support, he was met with firm approvals.
Instead of knocking, Laurenteui pushed hard on the door's handle, which to his suprise gave in, opening to reveal an even dimmer and danker room. From the waning candle which rested on a nearby pedastel revealed a mess of books which piled the ground, where articles of clothing lay about. Book cases lined the walls, where small colonies of cobwebs began to form. A tall red arm chair was positioned at the far end of the room, where tall stain glassed windows illuminated a figure slump – Stephan Baroi.
Turning his head slightly, he stared upon his guests with a blank stare.
”Why...why have you come in here? he said, clutching a dirty chalice which dark red wine dripped from forming a stain below the baron's chair. Giving his posture and condition of the room, he had definitely seen better days. Not only did he look disheveled with a sparse beard growing, but dark rings had formed under his eyes. His skin was devoid of color, and his fine clothes were loose, stained and wrinkly – the appearance of a commoner. Stephan Baroi appeared to be a gaunt man, dispelling what ever belief of a strong man that his portraits depicted.
Laurentieu, who merely grimaced spoke like a father, and dear friend to the baron.
”That sir, is a question these fine men have to come ask you.”
Stephan merely rolled his eyes, and kept his position within the large red armchair staring upon his guests with indifference.
”Not a single one of these blasted people can follow an order.” The baron, taking a long drag from his chalice kept his focus on the stain glass window he sat adjacent to. [b]”An to what do I owe this pleasure?
Unsure of the protocol when addressing minor Nidalese nobility, Fearn waits for Shadrick or Nicola to take the lead. Inside he's burning with questions, or even accusations for the baron.
Nicola looks the baron over carefully before speaking.
"Ser Baroi, you seem unhappy that we've arrived. If we've interrupted your meditations, I apologize," he says, stepping into the room and casting his gaze upon everything therein. He swept some cobwebs with the point of his cane, limping beyond the doorway and into the-- library? Study? -- It didn't matter. "However, there are more pressing topics than interruption of seclusion at hand-- to wit, the mob of fetchlings outside the grounds who were keen on bloodshed tonight. Something odd is happening in the town, and, it seems, has been happening for a very long time."
Nicola took a seat on an errant footstool as though he'd been invited."By our accounts, you're rather central to the conflict that's brewing outside your estate. People are disappearing. Disease has reared its head. The fetchlings are untouched. The baron is sequestered in his manor. My name is Nicola Grey, and these are my companions." Nicola sweeps his hand back to Shadrick and Fearn. "We've come to have words to ascertain what may be done to solve the mysteries surrounding your town."
He bowed, as much as a "cripple" could. Nicola paid as much fealty to nobility as they did to him, but he was still polite.
Fearn is surprised by Nicola's words and tone. The dwarf had imagined there would some demeaning courtly etiquette that delineated the difference in status between ruler and subject. How could it be else in this benighted land of painful bondage? But Nicola had seated himself and was speaking to the baron just like Fearn might address a dwarven thane.
Emboldened by Nicola, Fearn speaks up to support him. " Baron Baroi, your servant Laurentieu has told us of the great days of your estate, and we've seen what has befallen the village of Karpad. We would help but the village folk are afraid to speak or know nothing of the cause of the disappearances and disease. Say but a word to show us a true course."
The dwarf looked searchingly at the baron while awaiting his reply.
Sense Motive
Diplomacy (+2 v hostile or unfriendly, 1 retry if it fails)
Retry diplomacy, if needed
Shadrick stayed silent for the moment. He had plenty of knowledge that the others didn't have, of course, but he himself was curious about what the baron would say to them.
It was entertaining to watch, and he was enjoying it more than he should have.
Sanira's cold glare remained unchanged.
"Perhaps her husband caught wind of her disloyalty. Or perhaps one of the other townsfolk found out she was consorting with the shadow-blessed. In either case, you know the consequences are dire."
Still, he is kayal... Perhaps his acts of piety were not bribery, but an earnest desire to right his wrongs.
She sighed, looking once more at the man's quavering eyes. It was almost pitiable, had it not directly disobeyed her Master. Had it been up to the Baron, he would simply have the man executed. And such a death was no less irreverent.
"I suppose, however, that there is no harm in looking for Irini. We will attend to your atonement at another time."
She began to head for the door leading back into the manor, and then turned back for one final word.
"I doubt you will like the consequences of what you have wrought."
At that, she headed into the manor proper, wondering how the outsiders had fared with the Baroness and her servant. At the very least, she had another problem to add to the plague.
Having inherited the dying candle making business from her late uncle, Catalina stove to keep her family's income steady despite living within a small town. Interestingly enough, business has been so good within the past few weeks that the storefront's illuminated all day and night, and smoke seems to be rising from its chimney.
Nicola took a seat on an errant footstool as though he'd been invited."By our accounts, you're rather central to the conflict that's brewing outside your estate. People are disappearing. Disease has reared its head. The fetchlings are untouched. The baron is sequestered in his manor. My name is Nicola Grey, and these are my companions." Nicola sweeps his hand back to Shadrick and Fearn. "We've come to have words to ascertain what may be done to solve the mysteries surrounding your town."
Casting a side glance at the Varisian man, Stephan groaned at the man's introduction. ”and I'm the esteemed baron!!!” said Stephan while waving his arms without enthusiasm. After his short display of disrespect Stephan remained quiet for a moment as if something caught his attention. His eyes darted around the room in a nervous manner. Shifting around, he slowly stood up, paralyzed by fear. ”The shadows...they come for ME!!!!” Outright taking cover behind his chair, he drained his chalice and tossed it at the far wall. ”BACK...BACK AWAY NOW!!!!!”
Some minutes passed as the baron rocked himself to and fro, quivering like a bushel in the breeze.
”oh...its...gone...”. Coming to mind that he had unwanted guests, Stephan looked upon them as if nothing happened. As he moved about in the study, his body caught part of the dim light from a nearby candle. Interestingly enough, he cast no shadow. ”Mysteries, you say...? I've got NOTHING to do with the what's wrong with this town!!!” the Baron interjected with sudden anger.
Emboldened by Nicola, Fearn speaks up to support him. " Baron Baroi, your servant Laurentieu has told us of the great days of your estate, and we've seen what has befallen the village of Karpad. We would help but the village folk are afraid to speak or know nothing of the cause of the disappearances and disease. Say but a word to show us a true course."
Hard eyes were cast about the room, and the frustrated Baron slump back into his chair. ”Its no use....not even here am I safe.... The baron went to place his hand near his mouth for a drink, but realized that he had destroyed the vessel. Desperate, and feeling cornered, he slowly divulged some information to the present company.
”The disease....a horrible gift from those shadow-tainted scoundrels...I knew their kind was not to be trusted...blasted servants of the shadow plane!!!” The baron's face flashed red with anger while he dug his long nails into the arms of the chair – revealing that it wasn't the first time. ”Everything....should be fine...Ilquis assured me so... he said cryptically.
Fearn gapes slightly at the baron's display. He notes the man's lack of a shadow, but puts that aside for the moment. There are other veins to mine.
"Baron Baroi, the disease you mentioned -- are you talking about tallowthroat or something different? Did they give it to you before or after their exile from the manor?"
Know(religion) about the shadow
"Baron Baroi, the disease you mentioned -- are you talking about tallowthroat or something different? Did they give it to you before or after their exile from the manor?"
Stephan Baroi seemed lucid for a moment, coming slowly to his senses as the imperious dwarf spoke to him in a concerned manner. The baron's head nodded the pace of a teetering tree, ready to tumble into the surrounding earth. ”It came like a vicious mite that took my servant's staff like nothing I've seen... The baron's eyes went wide again, recounting the genesis of the outbreak. ”Royce had been the first to go..damn fool, consorting with fetchlings!”
As anger and fright seethed once again within the broken noble, Stephan jump in horror and positioned himself on the nearby windowsill keeping blood shot eyes on his guests.
”Fool had ONE JOB! To Tend my wine cellar! Chicken coddled fool worked close with the fetchlings, treated them like equals...but I always knew! I always know! They're plotting behind my back...FOR REVENGE!!!!” waving a finger in a targeting way, he looked about the room once more to insure no fetchlings had sneaked into his safe place. ”But you mus't trust them! Unpleased with their humanity, they're willing to rip a child from its mother's bossom and feed it to their blaspemeous god before doing any good! One by one my staff dropped with the sickness, I've riches, but none to keep Miklos here all day – until I came to realization! - FETCHLINGS!!!”
Half maddened, and rubbing his hands, Stephan began to sweat and convult. ”None of those shadow-tainted bastards got sick – so, by my authority and out of protection of..well EVERYTHING that belongs to me, I've kick all them out – save for Gavril, since he's the only one that my prized mastiff, Iozoff seems to like. Yes, the dog is important, BUT ENOUGH. Tell me this, are you agents of the Umbral Court? DO NOT LIE TO ME!!!” At this point, the baron was puffing hard and became rather irritable.
Of the religions of Golarion, the Nidalese worshipers of Zon-Kuthon have a particular use for shadows. Some blessed with magic call upon the shadow plane and bend it to their will - and even in the most extreme cases, typically as punishment, an experienced spellcaster can trap a shadow being within a person for violating a religious tenet or showing weakness. Thus, the shadow feeds upon the living person's body, running on borrowed time until the host dies.
In either case, an enchanted grimoire or a nightglass - an translucent onyx mirror varying in size serves a conduit between material plane and shadow plane.
Nicola watches with vested interest.
He looks at Shadrick, and then at Laurentieu. He hoped that the idea would come across well. The baron might have an outburst again. That was fine.
Nicola gave everyone three strikes, really. The Baron had already used one.
Being polite wasn't getting him anywhere.
Standing, Nicola shrugs. "We're not. I don't think the umbral court would send an agent not wrapped in black leathers with a shaven head. You should calm down. As my mother used to say, bryz dzvinia rjovekc. Things could be worse!"
He lifted up his cane, tapping it on the ground. He stared for a moment to make a point. Things could be worse. "Who's Ilquis?"
*Things could be worse.
The baron breathed a sigh of relief that the present party had no affiliations with the Umbral Court. "Whew...I thought I would have to bribe you in someway to forget that this never happened! Stephan said with a childlike glee. His hands twitched nervously, as if wanting to grasp his chalice, which laid in shards. Crossing his arms instead, he looked upon the Varisian who posed a question.
"Who's Ilquis?"
Stephan nodded his head slowly, taking in the question and trying to form a suitable answer. "Well, the question is more or less [b]what is Ilquis you might say he's kinda of a person that has a way of curing this horrible disease and sending the fetchlings back to their plane of existance![/b] He said in a hurried tone as if tired of questioning.
"But don't concern yourselves about it. Ilquis is my man and he can take care of things - thing you know, that pertain to stuff.... Refusing to engage eye contact with Nicola, the Baron continued, trying to change subjects.
"You've been here quite an awful time and as night draws nigh, I can't help but to think you're at my mercy for a proper residence. If what you say is true that those murderous fetchlings pose a blockage against my hallowed estate, I think you should treat me well. Afterall, you're at my mercy..."
The waning sunlight had cast a hard outline around the baron, despite his lack of shadow. A crooked smile formed upon his lips and for a moment, his left eye kept twitching.
Funny thing about madness is, is that if someone is truly mad, the root of the reason can most likely be found if you push them over the edge. Being a man, the baron didn't exactly fall in Shadrick's line of subtlety, so...
Dmitri walked up to the baron's desk, slamming his arms on it rather loudly. A large clanking of his metal gauntlets was enough to startle just about anyone, and the sudden outburst from him was probably enough to confuse his other members. Unfortunately he didn't care, he was... angry.
"Your wife's latest treatment, to me, as a Zurite, is absolutely appalling!
Ok, good, we've gotten that out of the way. That was a bit weighty for my tastes..." he said, leaning back. He was glad to get the fact that he'd talked to his wife out of the way. Well, talked might have been a rough word, but, who cares about that.
"She had some words to say about you, you know. She mentioned the fact that you'd neglected her, and fell into this... whatever this is." spinning his finger around rather flamboyantly. So, Baron. I suspect you'd sent for me some time ago, when you're mental audacity was somewhat becoming of a man of your class. Usually I'm more well-kept about these kinds of touchy situations, but, I've learned enough on you to be fed up with this act."
Looking down, Shadrick notices the shadow/
"No shadow..." He turns to look at Fearn "You can't have not noticed that. What does it mean?
but, I've learned enough on you to be fed up with this act."
"Act? YOU CALL THIS AN ACT? HOW WOULD YOU LIVE IF YOU KNEW EVERYTHING YOU CARED FOR CAN BE TAKEN AWAY FROM AN EVIL THAT PLAGUES MY TOWN!!!!!" His faced turned a scarlet shade as the Baron rebuked the armored man that stood before him. "NO ONE COMES INTO MY STUDY AND ACCUSES HIS LORDSHIP. I SHOULD HAVE YOU ALL EXECUTED FOR THIS SEVERE LACK OF DISRESPECT!!!"
Hunched, and breathing heavy, the baron had expelled a great amount of energy trying to prove his point home. Devoid of his liquor, he shook nervously, clawing the edges of his desk like an irritable cat.
Fearn frowns at the turn the interview is taking. He shoots a glance at Shadrick about the shadow. Later. It's not polite to talk about people like that.
"Baron Baroi, don't think for a moment that we are in any way at your mercy or in your debt. These two are free men, and I am bound only to Torag, god of the good forge. You are in a bad spot. Your desmesne fades under plague. Your people revolt.
Your captin of the watch is near to destructive insanity because he is so worried aboutabout his missing daughter. You have driven away your family's taditional servitors. Laurentiu is the only trustworthy servant you have.
What would the Umbral Court think of these things? Even living in northern lands, I have heard tales of their near omniscience and strict ruthlessness. You are prudent to fear your dark lords and would be more prudent to treat every visitor to your land as an honored emissary from the heart of Nidal until you have cured the people of this plague, returned the missing ones to their families, and so restored yourself to pre-eminence in Karpad.
Act wisely for your own sake, I beseech you. You are a man who needs help and we are the men to help you. Straighten your spine and grasp the hammer of hope. Grant us leave to solve these problems, give us a sign of authority and speak plainly what you know. Half-truths and cryptic phrases will not serve you in this crisis."
Diplomacy [ooc] +2 more if he's poorly inclined. Retry if needed and .
Grant us leave to solve these problems, give us a sign of authority and speak plainly what you know. Half-truths and cryptic phrases will not serve you in this crisis."
Seething from Shadrick's display, the Baron was caught off guard by Fearn's sudden speech. As if taken from a forge, hammered and shaped into place, Stephan slowly sank into his seat like a troubled child and listened to the paladin's words with an open mouth. He struggled to form words, but it was if an aura of righteousness expelled from Torag's servant and radiated the room.
”uh......" Clamoring for air. ”Ilquis, is a fey creature who promised me that he would have a solution towards fixing the contagion...that has plagued my barony. I have granted him permission to use the Chandlery which lies to the North West of my estate, beyond the river. Its a large building with a storefront complete with wares on display - you can't miss it. Though...it has been some time since we've last established communication...he supposedly is bound by his word.”
Through the now advancing evening, the Baron's skin took a palor casting a darker shade under his eyes.
”I...have said enough. I give you leave to pursue...whatever it is you adventurers...do. Don't bother me until you've learned more from Ilquis...”. Flicking his wrist, he shooed the present party out, giving a signal to Laurenteui who stood nearby patiently. Understanding his master's motion, the retainer moved towards the threshold of the door with a concealed smile. As the party neared, he spoke in a tone shy of a whisper.
”What deal the Baron has contracted with the fey is above my reasoning, but all I can say is to keep your wits about you.”
Fearn speaks politely and bows slightly as Laurenteui ushers them from the baron's presence.
Outside with the servant, he asks, "Laurenteui, when did the baron lose his shadow? Did the tallowthroat affliction begin before or after that? And when were the shadowfolk servants dismissed? "
****
"The Kuthites have a fascination with shadows. Some blessed with magic call upon the shadow plane and bend it to their will - and even in the most extreme cases, typically as punishment, an experienced spellcaster can trap a shadow being within a person for violating a religious tenet or showing weakness. Thus, the shadow feeds upon the living person's body, running on borrowed time until the host dies.
There is often an object, like an onyx mirror or a magical book, which serves a conduit between material plane and shadow plane.
As Fearn says the words "Onyx Mirror" Shadrick laughs, a bit too loud, and then puts his foot in the door behind him as it tries to close.
"He's got one..."
Turning on his heel, he forces the doors apart before they can completely close and looks into the room where the baron still is. He walks slowly inside, clapping his hands, leaning towards a direction, and then swooping to the next with his arms wide.
"As a man of my word, I was wondering what your wife meant by that. Her exact words, my good man, were 'That damned mirror' and I was curious. Oh, was I curious.
He span with glee. This was a moment where Shadrick was a mixture of furious and happy, because he knew some form of carnage was in his future, and it wasn't merely a pipe dream.
He leaned onto the desk again, much to the baron's dismay.
"Alright. Back to square 1, aren't we? Tell me, my good man. I do apologize for those words I said prior, and while I do know it's not really an act, I needed some... motivation, for the dwarf.
Now, tell me where this "damned" mirror is, and... right, what's his name? Oh yes... "Merek" Your wife suggested I mention that name, it might bring you back to your senses."
"Did it?"
Shadrick didn't like the baron, and it showed in his words, though, just a bit difficult.
As soon as the heroes have momentarily left the confines of the Baron's study, Stephan had lulled himself into a trance like state where he methodically rubbed his hands together and sat murmuring.
”its gonna be ok...they can't...get you..cause if they do...they'll rip you to shreds...those damn shadows...shadows always looking..but they can't find me in here....safety...just...need to ho-”
Seemingly unaware of Shadrick's entrance, the Baron nearly jumped at the man's sudden questions.
Now, tell me where this "damned" mirror is, and... right, what's his name? Oh yes... "Merek" Your wife suggested I mention that name, it might bring you back to your senses."
.
Like a hare seeing its killer in the prairie, Stephan's eye's widened and he sat frozen.
”Bu..bu..howww?” A small wailing voice rose from the Baroi. His eyes shifted about as he tried to muster his control of the situation. All manner of reasoning left Stephan, and he was like putty in the Chelaxian's hands. ”The...mirror...it...exists. In the basement...no one dares to go there...for...he..is there...I beg you...don't, in the name that is all Unholy and Holy, don't...”
Tears began to flow as the baron seemed to divulge a hidden truth that had wracked his mind.