Nicola slumped on his cane, listening to what was going on in the next room. Hrm.
When Shadrick returned, he gave him a simple question: "What next? We've got fey in the town and perhaps something in the basement. I'm interested in finding this creature," he said, leaving the other half of the statement unsaid: I'm not too interested in helping the baron before finding the elemental creature of misunderstanding and chaos that's literally taken up shop here.
He posits the question to both of them: "What do you think? And, should we seek out Sanira?" Another unspoken question: Can we trust her? "I think she'll be of use," he says.
Desperate times required desperate measures.
With the Baron's right hand busy taking care of the outsiders, Sanira had found herself alone in the manor. Resisting the impulse to deface the arrogant man's many self portraits, she wandered about in search of the others. Perhaps they'd managed to actually cajole some information from the tight-lipped retainer or the lady of the house. Surely one of them would know why the Baron had chosen to leave even the humans to die in the streets - she knew better than to expect any mercy for the shadow-blessed.
Hearing their voices around the corner, she started towards them. Sanira turned the corner, and found the outsiders consorting with one another in whispers. As expected.
And, should we seek out Sanira?... I think she'll be of use.
She glared at Nicola, crossing her scarred arms. "I should hope so - I was just thinking the same of you lot. Aren't you missing one?
Nicola laughed. "Seems you sought us out instead. The Baron's invited a fey creature who claims to be able to stop the plague to set up shop in the town, and it seems his shadow has been stolen by a mirror of some kind and set up in the basement, guarded by a mysterious being of sorts. Discover anything interesting?" he asks, tapping his cane on the ground.
The faint semblance of a smile that was on Sanira's face vanished at the mention of the Baron's hired "help". It was just like the fool to try and solve his problems in the worst ways possible.
"Nothing so interesting as more of the Baron's follies. Apparently the first victim of the plague was here in the manor itself. The Baron threw out the shadow-blessed when he noticed we did not contract the malady. And..."
She hesitated, unsure how to explain Gavril's plight without damning him to the outsiders. His problem was a Kuthite issue - no, more importantly, a matter amongst the Kayal. The shadow-blessed suffered enough without further judgement.
"One of the few humans who actually treated the shadow-blessed as equals has gone missing. Her name is Irini, and the Houndmaster has pleaded to both my Master and me for assistance in finding the one human he could speak to without fear," she cast her eyes downward as she continued, "I regret my shadows have never crossed this woman's."
Fearn says in a hissing whisper. "Shh. Shadrick is making progress of a sort. Let us hear what the baron tells him."
Lest his small rebuke be taken too harshly, he steps into the baron's room to clear of the doorway and waves for both Sanira and Nicola to step inside.
"I'm guessing she's either stuffed in a mirror or in a closet in a chandlery; either way, it's luck's bet that she's with the rest of them."
His scarf moves, revealing the beady-eyed ferret underneath, and it casts a baleful gaze upon Sanira before yawning and losing any sort of threatening demeanor. "You're finally up," Nicola observes, and then continues: "So, to the chandlery then?"
She nodded, but watched the dwarf enter the Baron's quarters.
I can't imagine the Baron would be happy to see me... but I can't resist the urge to make the little bastard squirm.
With something of a shrug, Sanira followed Fearn's lead and stepped into the Baron's chambers, although holding near the entrance instead of boldly striding into the center. She was already risking execution for this act - it was best not to cast further light onto her shadow. She glared at the Baron, a cold fury nearly tangible in her eyes, and listened to the proceedings.
At the point of tearing, the Baron squirmed under the imperious gaze of the Chelaxian. Manners of truth began to expel from the noble, including profuse sweating. He wasn't sure how much longer Shadrick would continue, but something broke his focus.
A clinking of metal entered the room - a menacing sound that grew near joining the side of Shadrick. She was a fetchling wrapped in armor with spikes, and scars marking her as a chosen of the Midnight Lord.
All manner of thought escaped the Baron as he stared at the fetchling that stood before him.
"bu..bu...no....". His convulsions grew into a quivering mess. "PLEASE, BEGONE. ALL SAVE FOR GAVRIL ARE NOT ALLOWED!!!
Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the Baron. Rage seethed beneath the surface, but Sanira knew better than to speak beyond her place. She was watching the man in charge of this town crumple before her very eyes. How could the Umbral Court allow such a pitiful excuse for a man to manage its people? How could her master let this weak willed fool abuse his loyal worshipers?
"What is it about me that you fear so strongly, Baron Baroi? Why do you fear the shadows of your master?"
Crap.
Before she had known it, she had spoken.
Right as shadrick began to press even deeper into the baron, he'd realized that that pitiful excuse of mental fatigue was all he needed. This fey, and whatever was in the lower quarters needed investigated.
Jolly good as that was, he didn't expect the sudden appearance of Sanira to create such a stir, and then he immediately recalled. A hatred of Fetchlings. Not just any fetchling, either, but a female fetchling. That didn't fly too well with Shadrick, but making a scene would sooner get him locked away, rather than any closer to the freeing of these people.
It was an odd change of pace, really. Though Shadrick enjoyed this, he hated it just as much. The plight and quiver of the Baron, the death knells at the door, the close call with the baron's wife, he smirked a bit.
Regardless of his enjoyment, he'd still more than had enough.
He grabbed Sanira's hand and stilled it as she began to shout out questions.
"This fool is of no worth getting troubled over... I suggest we merely leave and get this over with. I'm sure this "Ilquis" has some answers."
An obvious disgust in his voice, Shadrick stormed out of the room and down the stairs, where he would cool off and wait at the front door.
Nicola gives Fearn his best 'didn't think I'd have to move' face.
"Baron," Nicola says, giving him a half-bow with his hat in his hands, and limps after.
With a silent nod to the Baron - a gesture rife with her distaste for the man - she followed the outsiders. She hadn't enjoyed losing her composure, especially in front of them. To make matters worse, the armored human seemed to be... protective? Some of his mannerisms made her uneasy.
"We will let you know what we learn," Fearn assures the baron as he turns to leave.
Outside he asks, " Is Baroi typical of the Nidalese nobilty? [i]He has trouble imagining that the baron is typical. The country would have fallen apart centuries ago.
Nicola responds by quietly laughing for a moment. "He's very atypical, actually-- I didn't see a single scar on him, and he had each of his fingers."
He sets his hat back on his head. "If you're talking about in personality? Very. The Nidalese have an inborn tendency to give themselves over to darkness-- they've been doing it all their life, after all."
Sanira nods, glancing over at Nicola.
"Indeed, although you seem to put such a foul intonation on it. Our master shielded us from the darkness, and we repay his favoritism. Those of us who the Midnight Lord favors can call upon his shadow."
She paused, pondering the Baron's complete disobedience.
"Baroi is not one of these people. It is a miracle of our master's kindness that he remains breathing, let alone Baron."
Hearing the others speak plainly, Fearn lets down his guard a bit. "Torag would not approve of him either, I think. He has forgotten his duty to his vassals, and he is not willing to do the work allotted his position."
On the way to the Chandlery, Fearn will succinctly tell Sanira what they learned from the baron and about his missing shadow, concluding with, "The man seems nearly paralyzed with fear. And it was very odd, the way his personality changed. At one point he seemed to be threatening us saying, 'We'd be at his mercy if we stayed at the manor tonight.' Very strange."
"Zura wouldn't approve of him either."
Shadrick hadn't approved of keeping quiet on that, but the dwarf seemed to be rather tolerant of someone else's religion considering he was in such dark lands.
Fearn glances sidelong at Shadrick, trying to decide if the man is joking. He turns to Nicola, "What do you think, Nicola? Is there any god that will approve Baroi?"
As the group walks Shadrick falls silent, and then he lets Hayna fall slightly behind the group where he examines Shadrick intently.
Detect evil. Which will come back negative per RAW.
As the heroes had left the confines of the Baroi Manor, night had begun to grace the land, bringing with it even more darkness and cold. By now, much of the town had become a lull, as the Nidalese tended to their homes and warmth.
The trip to the Chandlery was a short one, having crossed a small foot bridge and rounded the bend. Within sight of the workshop, the heroes exchanged newly learned information between eachother, mostly concerning more of the Baron's involvement and the where abouts of the town's citizens.
The chandlery is a 20-foot-by-25-foot rectangular building with a single door and windows looking into the storefront, most of its rooms remaining hidden underground in its large cellar. Sixty feet to the east of the building’s east wall, a set of reinforced double doors opens onto a side of the hill, granting access directly to the cellar.
But it didn't take long to notice that something was different. Even within the advance of night, the Chandlery's store front was well illuminated, despite a large “closed” sign dangled in a nearby window. Even plumes of smoke flowed consistently from a chimney stack near the rear of the building.
"There is no god for cowards," he says, rather gravely, to Fearn as they arrive.
Drawing a wand, Nicola taps it against his forearm and is covered in wispy blue light for an instant before it dissolves into butterflies. He looks at the doorway and looks to Shadrick. "Want to knock?"
"After everything that's happened recently, I'd rather kick it down, but, to each his own, no?" With that, he walks up to the door to the chandlery, which is oddly still open- and then a thought crosses him. He turns to look at Fearn. "Are there any objections to attempting to sneak in unwarranted, or...
Shadrick was more than paranoid against random events at this point. For all he knew, another priest was standing on the other side of the door.
"Normally, I'd be against any attempts to break into a loyal Kuthite's home..."
Sanira eyed the cripple carefully, unaccustomed to such open displays of heresy against the master. Normally, she'd be against that too. But these were outlanders - who had offered to help her people with remarkably little question of what they'd receive in return. So long as they did not try to sway the loyal - she would accept their difference of faith.
For now.
"Custom dictates we at least have the courtesy to knock. If it is truly necessary, I can invoke the Right of Shadowseeking. Typically it is used to root out the heretics among us... but I am sure the master will see fit to forgive this use."
"Then let us knock."
Fearn ties Hayna to a nearby post. He roots in his pack until he finds two vials and a bound cloth bag. He slips the vials into his belt pouch, and hangs the bag from his belt.
With that, Shadrick sighs and then knocks on the door.
"I'm willing to bet anything this isn't going to go as we expect. Did no one stop to think why a Fey, which I don't even know what is, would be running a chandlery?"
Shadrick knocked proudly on the door of the Chandlery. Despite that the storefront was well illuminated, no answer came from within. He tried knocking again, to see if someone would answer the door, after all, civility could prevail. But after waiting several moments, it appeared that no one was there to answer the call.
Much to Shadrick's interest, the door had slightly opened upon his second round of raps, giving him an askewed view of the storefront. The door creaked and a bell that hung on the inside of the door chimed ever so slightly. The chelaxian's senses were assaulted with the aroma of a pungent incense - a mixture of lavender, samuta and wax.
"I can only imagine," Nicola sighs as he pushes open the door to the chandlery with his cane. "It looks like they left the door unlocked for us. How kind. Shall we?" he gestures to the interior of the shop. Nicola isn't first, but he's second or third into the room, looking around and keeping wary.
Nicola's cane had opened the door further, giving a better view to the wide berth of the room.
Candles of every shape, color and size lined the walls of any available surface. Crates and storage units were scattered about the room, unopened providing a small and cramped way to the counter where a ledger and a candelabra rested. Despite the room's condition, it seemed as if only a handful of people - no more than 4 and an employee could occupy this space. Beyond the counter stood a wooden door, closed with what appeared to be wax stains on it.
Interesting enough, to the left side of the counter stood a mannequin, human sized with several articles of clothes resting upon it. Given the state it was in, it could've been crafted as a cheap fashion model, judging by its accentuated pose. Its face was blank, but much of its body had been shaped to resemble a thin male's figure.
With that, Shadrick sighs and then knocks on the door.
"I'm willing to bet anything this isn't going to go as we expect. Did no one stop to think why a Fey, which I don't even know what is, would be running a chandlery?"
"It's my understanding that the Chandlery predates the fey. The Baron said that he granted Ilquis use of the Chandlery as part of their bargain."
"I'm going to return to my previous question, what exactly, is, a fey?"
He asked the question looking at the mannequin, curious as to why it had clothes on it and why it was the only one in the room. Seemed odd to have mennequins in a chandlery, what with, well, it being primarily for candles. Seemed like a waste of Wax.
The question was mostly posed toward Nicola, as he seemed to be the only person who'd seemingly have knowledge of it. He certainly liked to talk.
Fearn walks in easily with his hammer in hand.
"Fey have a strong connection to the First World of nature. Pixies, sprites, satyrs. Many have taken up permanent residence here.
He pauses to glance at the mannequin before walking behind the counter to the door.
Perception
Shadrick carefully draws his scythe. "Any history of doing terrible things to people?"
This mannequin is far too out of place.
"Imagine that the entire world is written down somewhere in permanent ink. Countless upon countless pieces of parchment, each and every thing about the world set down, substantial, real. Permanent." Nicola doesn't like the mannequin either, and glares at it a little as he walks into the shop.
"The fey are a child's vicious crayon drawing on the fabric of the world. They're the revenge of the first draft of absurdity given true form. They come from the First World, the world that predates this one as a sort of 'test' plane, where the laws of the universe were devised by the mind of a mad man. There's nothing they do that isn't terrible, because they're unknowable."
"What I expect to find here is nothing short of the worst possible thing we can think of."
Having stepped in and examined the Chandlery's storefront, the heroes were amazed at Ilquis' productivity.
First Shadrick took notice of the mannequin. He was...somewhat insulted that there was a poor representation of the human body – it lacked any real proportions. In addition to having a scarf and some clothing, it was an utter waste of wax, and dismissed it. His attention being focused by Nicola who was busy giving a small history of the first world. Meanwhile, Fearn stood in place gazing upon the wax dummy.
It seemed to shift in space ever so slowly, as if molding in the air.
The dwarf's eyes blinked several times, until it made another movement. This time, its arms where slowly outstretching, growing, to a place behind the Chelaxian's neck. At that moment, Fearn was the only one who noticed that mannequin was alive.
"Shadrick, look out!" Fearn swings his hammer overhead and steps toward the mannequin.
...
Turning to see the Dwarf, hammer overhead, was one thing, but turning around again and seeing the abomination of a mannequin attempting to strangle you? That was another entire. Shadrick immediately jumped back about 5 feet and readied his weapon.
"I knew it!" were the only words he could think to say.
Sanira had remained silent - largely because she was remarkably uninformed regarding the fey and their strange realms. Theirs was one far removed from hers and her Master's... and she had never seen the reason to concern herself with their affairs. The druids deep within the Uskwood kept Nidal safe from their... whatever they did.
She suddenly come back to attention as the dwarf called out. She yanked at one of the chains wrapped about her waist, pulling a gnarled cord of steel free as she positioned herself in the doorway of the shop.
Melee Slam
Fearn 16
Shadrick 15
Monsters 13
Nicola 5
The party was called to arms as the dwarf had noticed the Mannequin became animated. A face began to form on the creature – a haunted skeletal visage appeared, that seem to gape and chomp at the air. ”uhhhhhhHhhHhh". Though life surged within, its movements were dull and lethargic, which probably explained why Shadrick had been fooled.
Sanira, hearing the call had positioned herself within the Chandlery's threshold, her cold calculating eyes peered over the monster which loomed in the storefront. Meantime, Fearn saw the immediate and reacted to, but alarming his comrades. There was no telling why the mannequin even existed in the spot – but right off the bat, it was hostile.
Shadrick fortunately sprang back and just in time, as the Waxen Monstrosity brought its arms in a downward sting..missing the fighter. Its slow momentum kept the creature in motion as it continued towards the Chelaxian. Nicola saw all this happen and took in the scene. His war weasel squirmed under the folds of the Varisian's scarf.
Nicola makes a gesture with his fingers, lifts a foot off of the ground and closes one eye. Peering through his hand, he speaks: "Oh, Desna, goddess of fate, thou who scry upon the wheel of fortune-- laugh," and a smile crosses his face.
He starts to laugh, softly.
"Torag for Right!" Fearn steps forward and drives his war hammer overhand into the mannequin's midriff.
+1 Warhammer ... damage
Fearn steps toward the mannequin threateningly, but lowers his hammer before he can deliver a strike. He looks over to the fetchling and nods appreciatively. "Nice work. I've never seen chains used that way. Effective."
The living mannequin must have been the work of the fey creature - Sanira doubted that the chandler herself would have had the skill to craft anything like it.
Spinning the chain, the twisted bits of metal flew through the air with a staggering velocity as the weapon came up to speed. As she took a single step forward, she lunged with the spinning fan of steel, hoping to catch the arms of the thing before it crushed the outsider's windpipe.
Not faultering, the Chelaxian turns his backstep into momentum, spinning his scythe to catch the creature's feet.
Sanira 23
Fearn 16
Shadrick 15
Monsters 13
Nicola 5
The oracle of metal stepped within range of the monster, swinging her chain with a steadied patience. Upon her face rested a serene expression – as if even in battle she was a morbid beauty. Her strike however missed, having graced the smooth surface of the Wax Monster's left arm.
Fearn, followed through a savage war hammer strike. Its wide surface impacted the monster's flesh, staining the nearby walls with wax.
Shadrick had no qualms with using the swooped end of his war scythe to impair the creature's movements. After having been a near victim of the golem's vice like grip, the fighter took no time to return the favor. Bringing his blade in a wide arc, it caught its leg and rendered the Wax Monster to the floor.
It wasn't quite sure of what happened, having its orientation changed drastically. Though, with supernatural strength, it slowly righted itself upward by shifting its mass. Its gaping maw clicked and gasped the open air. Rising to its feat, his swings at the closest enemy – this time being Fearn who had ducked away after delivering his blow.
[spoilers=DM Rolls]
Wax Golem slam → Fearn. [/spoiler]
Will save
But yet again, it stumbled and missed the armored body of the paladin.
Nicola, seeing the monster fail yet again, began to laugh – softly but it seemed to have a different intonation. If the creature had sufficient animation, a scared face would form. Under the effects of Nicola's chuckling, the beast seemed to be troubled.
Nicola reels back and clubs the creature with his cane. For a moment, he really does remind everyone of a much older man.
After swinging, he turns around and lets out another laugh, this time... deeper. "I'd spare an insult, but I'm sure you can't understand me," he spits, and makes the sign of the ill-begotten moon. His left eye flickers with a deep, significant light. Grasping his cane tightly, he doesn't move back, trusting the magic armor and his three able-bodied allies to protect him
Seeing the monster fall prone, Fearn drives his hammer toward its head.
AoO
+1 Warhammer ... damage
He steps to his right to give the others more room. He raises the great grey hammer overhead, and pulls it downward starting with his legs like a man splitting wood.
+1 Warhammer ... damage
Catching the creature by it's feet and successfully sitting it on the ground, Shadrick gives a gleeful smile. Tripping was ritualistic in a fight, whether everyone knew it or not. The act of making a creature totally helpless for just a moment, followed by the collective twang of everyone's weapons. It's a shame this thing didn't bleed...
Following through with his previous motion, Shadrick reaches his height and brings the scythe straight down where a normal person's collar bone would be.
It unfortunately catches harmlessly, just short of a wonderful cut.
Watching the strange beast drop to the floor, Sanira did not hesitate to lash out again with her chain.
But the beating from both herself and her "friends" did little to abate the creature's wrath as it righted itself and moved for another strike. Whatever this abomination was - it was not something that the Midnight Lord would approve of. Even its design was an insult to her master, with fine rounded edges and not a hint of steel. Swinging her weapon between the gaps in the crowded room, she tried once more to entangle the creature's arms before it could land a blow.
Sanira 23
Fearn 16
Shadrick 15
Monsters 13
Nicola 5
Sanira hits, and deals 9dmg
Fearn hits, and deals 10dmg
Shadrick Misses
Nicola hits, and deals 2dmg
total aoo dmg dealt = 21; 31 / ??? so far
As the waxen golem righted itself, Sanira was presented an opportunity to sink her chain whip against the monster. Picking up momentum, it flew like a dagger and cut a wide swath of the creature's face, adding more goop to the ground.
Stepping back into the foray, the paladin delivered another scintilating blow against the creature, bringing down his hammer hard and reduced the monster to a crumbling heap. The magical energies that had animated the wax had dissapated, leaving a molten mess and waste of wax upon the storefront's floor.
With the storefront devoid of monsters, one thing was evident - whatever placed that creature there has an agenda. With only one door that the heroes haven't opened yet, their adventure continues....
Fearn drives his hammer into the golem's head a third time and watches to see if the wound starts to heal. If it doesn't heal, he looks up at his companions, "Wait here. I better get my shield"
And if the threat is over he fetches his shield and straps it over his arm. "Now I'm ready."