She informs you that there is no cure known by her.
Doro steps into the doorway and says simply looking at Estovian as he holds his shield in one hand at the ready and mace in the other.
You have choices Estovian. There is the final cure of death, that we may administer to you now...immediately. Or You can help us, and leave here to join one of the tribes of werewolves and live out your existence as one of them. They may even see the irony, the owner of the lodge created to hunt them....now one of the hunted....or they may slay you in frenzy. who knows. Its a chance. what do you say? Help us and live to see another day....or not!
"What chance?!? I have been bitten! My life is a ruin! You have destroyed everything!"
He is clearly not your biggest fan. He also sounds like he may have lost his mind a bit.
"We have destroyed everything? How in the ... No, that's not what's important. Doro is right about some of your choices - die now, die in battle, live out your life in near-feral exile - but you could also decide to just do your damn job, sir."
Niculaie sighs, then grins madly at the distraught Lodge Warden, baring his teeth, including his unnaturally long canines. "Do you see my inheritance, Estovian? My father left me some of his thirst, and the means to quench it. Every morning since I came of age, I wake up and wonder, 'Is today the day I give in to the monster, let it loose?' I have to decide to resist it every single day. You, on the other hand, will have to spend one night a month locked alone in your room. You have my sympathy, of course, but especially considering the resources available to you, such an affliction need only end your life if you let it."
At the end of his speech, Niculaie cocks his head to one side in thought. "You said 'I am bitten.' When were you bitten, sir? Are you certain that you are afflicted with lycanthropy?"
You do see the gruesome bite on his arm, and he does look a little more wolfish to you.
"Do you need me to prove it?" he growls. Then he stares at Miculae. [b]"Fine. What do you want to know? I don't know much. Vrood... a nasty man, but clearly a leader of kooks. The Whispering Way used me, used Mordrinacht. Got the heart and left, leaving a civil war in its stead. Various factions raging all around us now... we won't survive any of this!"
So at least you can die fighting those who gave you this curse, and get some measure of revenge, don't you?
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Watching quietly as tempers rise and Estovian reveals his wound. Stepping forward, Tara offers an open palm, "May I see?" she asks before touching him on the arm gently, tracing the wound and checking for infection.
"You know, I originally am from Korvosa. I was in the city when Blood Veil went unchecked through everyone. Nobles, destitute, it didn't differentiate. It left its mark on those of us who caught it with festering open wounds, a cough that would rack your entire frame and chills, even though it was the height of summer." shivering slightly at the memory, Tara continues.
"If you were lucky, you passed quickly, most not making it through a week after showing symptoms. If you were unlucky, they took you. They experimented on you. They tested you. The doctors were not there to help us get better, they were there to perfect their disease." Taking a shaky breath, Tara makes eye contact with Estovian.
"But lucky for you, this is simply a curse. If you wait a day, and have faith, I will try and remove this affliction from you. We all make missteps in our lives trying to protect what we care about, and the bravest thing we can do is to stand up to those who bully and threaten us." Glancing behind her to the others, Tara offers a small smile, "Besides we all make more menacing targets. We won't let you fall."
Niculaie scowls at the Lodge Warden's wound. "Where do we find the would-be leader of the pack, and their allies from the Whispering Way? They must be hiding here somewhere, perhaps with the former pack leader's heart?"
"The leader of which pack? Mathus Mordrinacht, the leader of the Silverhides and main claimant to the title of packlord, currently holds Highthrone, along with his sole ally, Cybrisa Dorzhanev, leader of the Broken Ones. They are both on top of the tower. Problem is, he can't eat the heart - the Whispering Way stole it and took off. "
"The other packs are circling and it looks like all out war now."
"Do you have any idea where they may have gone?"
"No, I have no information on where any of these groups go."
Doro looked at Estovian and said. Mathus is no more. Where did the Whispering way go? do you know?
"Damn," Gregor frowns. "Perhaps if we clean and hallow this temple, we can prevent further bloodshed. Then we can focus on the Whispering Way."
Pontia stops short at Gregor's words. "The Halo of Dreams! Of course! If we cleanse this place, we may be able to use the Dusk Moth to entreat aid from Desna herself! Estovion, what do you know of this temple?"
"Do you happen to know if there is a cleric of Desna nearby? I believe we determined that it will take us a full day to cleanse the Dusk Moth of the unholy desecration that the Whispering Way and their allies have visited upon it. I worry we will not be allowed that much time."
"I know that it was once a temple to Desna, but it has not been for a very long time. I don't know where the Whispering Way were headed. But I think one of the werewolf packs might have been in pursuit. "
"I worry we will not be allowed that much time."
"Where are Duristan and his cronies when you really need them?" Asks Gregor. "It wasn't such a long walk to get here, perhaps we could go back and get help, then stand guard while they do all the hard work cleaning this place." Gregor rests a hand easily on his armor, now stained red with blood. "Or we could hope that the Vollensags and Jezeldans get back before the Mordinachts and Dorzhanevs. So long as we don't actually have the heart, and we won't until we track down the Whispering Way, we won't have to break the news to the Jezeldans that we aren't their friends. So maybe they'll help us hold and cleanse the temple. By the time we do have the heart, the temple may have changed hands once again." Gregor rolls his neck. Or maybe the Mordinachts and Dorzhanevs will get here first and we'll all be dead by then.
Rubbing her temples, Tara glances out to the forest and then back up to the temple. "Whichever we chose, it will have to be fast. As we speak the way is growing farther away with the heart. We can try to track the pack that was in pursuit, or we can clean the temple. I don't want to leave something like this tainted for too long, foul things tend to grow worse when left unattended."
So back to my maid outfit, playing with a broom in a temple, as in my youth... Some people had a thing for redhead in maid outfit. So I broke quite a few brooms defending myself. But maybe finding the Heart is a more pressing matter, and we can come back clearing Desna's home later, providing we survive.
"We can try to track the pack that was in pursuit, or we can clean the temple."
"Hrrm, we could try tracking them...but I think progress would be slow that way, and we have no way of guaranteeing that would take us where we want to go." Gregor rolls his supernaturally wide shoulders experimentally. "This way at least we know we'll be making progress on something important.
[b]"maybe finding the Heart is a more pressing matter, and we can come back clearing Desna's home later, providing we survive."
"I would agree with you, save that we don't know where the heart is or what the Whispering Way has done with it."
OK, it takes everyone a fair amount of work, but you do succeed in cleansing the temple. While cleaning, you also find a secret room. The surgical tools in the room are all made of solid silver, and the entire collection is worth 3,000 gp. A locked iron strongbox.
Once the temple has been reconsecrated, the Dusk Moth again becomes active, but only for a single night. While the relic is active, a faint radiance emanates from the menhirs atop the temple, almost like a refractive fog.
"Vivian and Nic, if you can't open the chest I can use magic."
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with mock outrage
"If I can't open the chest"? My, Pontia, I'd hope you would have more trust in my skills by now!
Giggling, the redhead gets to work, and indeed make it look quite easy
Picking locks in a temple... That's all my misspent youth! Only it was a temple dedicated to Pharasma, and the lock was on a door...Now that I am just a little less young, I'm pretty sure my mom knew about my nightly wanderings..
Vivian has a mischevious smile at the memories, then tries to figure how to activate the Dusk Moth, but to no avail.
Sorry, I have no clue about how it works.
With the communion ritual discovered by Vivian in the chest, you can add +4 to your UMD check. Doesn't help Vivian much... but if anyone else wishes to try.
Niculaie looks over the communion ritual and nods. “That’s all right, Vivian. Thanks to the practice you gained in your youthful escapes, I believe I will be able to perform this ritual without any difficulty.”
The funeral singer concentrates for a few moments, then begins.
Fumbling through the ceremony a bit, Niculae manages to complete it anyway. Suddenly, you all pass out.
You fall into a heightened dream trance that lasts for 1 hour. During the trance, you commune directly with Desna herself. The goddess thanks you for restoring and cleansing her temple and shows you a vision of the future.
You see yourselves facing a black-robed necromancer wearing a bone breastplate as he stands before a ruined tower; fighting a terrifying, tentacled monster deep beneath the sea; confronting a beautiful female vampire spellcaster in an underground chamber; and battling a decaying lich, blazing with arcane power, atop a high spire beneath dark, churning clouds.
When the vision ends, Desna grants each of you a boon
When you wake an hour later, the radiant stones fade back to dull gray, and the last of the Dust Moth’s magic peters out.
When Gregor wakes, he has completely forgotten about their plan to ask Desna where the Whispering Way had taken the heart. "That was...life changing." The big man smiles softly. The change in his eye color is striking, where before they had been a bright and shocking yellow, dirty and alien looking, now they were cool, silvery, and celestial.
Doro had helped clean the place thoroughly, just as he had in temples of Iomedae in his youth. Then had walked up the staircase as before to where the ritual was to be performed.
He was skeptical that this ritual would do much so when Niculaie had finished it and he saw the grand Dusk Moth rise up before him he felt the presence of a divine being. He had only felt this once before when he had received Iomedaes blessing to become one of her servant. He collapsed on the rooftop seeing visions of fighting great evil, from a necromancer to a vampiress to a lich in various locations. He knew he was on the right path. He awoke and shook his head and stood looking at the others, in each case he saw the normally black iris' of their eyes were now silver. He looked at them again and said Are my eyes the same as yours? silver iris'?
He knew his purpose was strengthened and he had a greater sense of presence because of it.
Pontia returns to her senses, slowly opening her eyes and looking around at the others. She blinks. "Did you--did we--I suppose we did. All of you have silver irises, so I infer that I do as well. It's a rather striking effect against the black of your pupils." She smiles and nods in something like satisfaction, her willpower and perceptiveness increased by her brush with the divine.
Gregor glances up at Pontia's words. Guess I look a little less like a freak now. He stretches his arms out wide, like he's wrapping his huge frame around the entire group in a gigantic hug. "We are connected now, all of us. When we go somewhere new and people see us together, they'll know we have some connection." Gregor closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply. "How strange this life can be. Sometimes the closest bonds can be forged with those we have only just met."
You see yourselves facing a black-robed necromancer wearing a bone breastplate as he stands before a ruined tower; fighting a terrifying, tentacled monster deep beneath the sea; confronting a beautiful female vampire spellcaster in an underground chamber; and battling a decaying lich, blazing with arcane power, atop a high spire beneath dark, churning clouds.
Niculaie is stunned by the personal communion with the Song of Spheres, and horrified by the visions of battles yet to come. He sits quietly for a minute after the spell is broken, stirring and opening his eyes only when he hears Gregor, Doro, and Pontia talking about the change in the color of their irises.
"I don't know what I expected," the dhampir says, staggering unsteadily to his feet. "But that wasn't it. I admit to some concern that the adversaries we will face in the future are of such power that the current threat of the werewolf tribes does not warrant a mention. Did any of you get any hint as to where we should go next? I am grateful for the gifts we have been given, of course, I only want to be certain we are not missing a hint from the goddess before we continue."
Groovy.
After a pause, as Vivian inhales calmly, her green eyes closed
it seems we are in for even much more troubles. Maybe knowing it way before will help us prepare for these future fights. We thank you, Desna, for the informations
While you might not have gotten the information you wanted, the information you got could come in handy.
What now?
"Did any of you get any hint as to where we should go next?"
Gregor shook his head. "No, perhaps now we could follow Tara's earlier suggestion and try tracking the pack that was following the Whispering Way."
"Maybe knowing it way before will help us prepare for these future fights."
"Indeed, preparation is always useful." Gregor folds his arms. "At some point we should look for anything we can use to fight that vampire." Garlic, mirrors, maybe a wooden stake...or are those just rumored to be effective by ignorant villagers? Gregor blinks, looking around at the various group members who might know more than him. "And we're definitely going to need some magic to breathe and fight underwater. Somehow I got the sense that we were very deep beneath the waves, under a lot of pressure and far from the sun."
“Agreed on all counts, Gregor.” Niculaie turns back to Estovian. “Sir, your involvement with Vrood and the Whispering Way has gained you nothing but a dreadful curse and risks the destruction of much that you hold dear. Do you have any idea which of the werewolf packs pursued them? We may be able to track them down.”
"I do not. They all want the heart, so perhaps all of them."
"So if all of the werewolves have gone after them, it should be obvious to our skilled trackers."
Let's hope it will be that easy. But are we ready to take on a bunch-I guess that's called a pack- of werewolves if and when we find them? I can start to look for some tracks
"Several packs, if our sources are correct. If we're lucky, all our enemies will fight each other before we get to them."
There are tracks all around the place - you can circle the area in wider patterns looking for something more specific if you like.
Vivian walks carefully in circles, first small then larger, doing her best not to step into the tracks, and tries to find some pattern, looking for the greatest and largest bunch of tracks.
"Did anyone see which way the other werewolf flew off?"
Niculaie thinks for a moment, humming a few bars of an old funeral hymn from Brevoy. "It must have been directly opposite the stairs, wouldn't it? Because we couldn't see it through the mist."
Vivian comes across a gruesome scene. It appears Duristan decided to come werewolf hunting without you, and it seems he found them. You recognize some of the equipment, dead people, and horses, but Duristan himself seems missing.
While you are evaluating the situation, you see a few people approaching. The hold their hands out in front of them, as if to show they are not holding weapons.
"It must have been directly opposite the stairs, wouldn't it? Because we couldn't see it through the mist."
"By the time I went looking for her, she could have already dropped down to the forest floor and gone off in any direction." Gregor wipes sweat from his forehead. I can make myself huge and call stones with my mind, but I could never learn that damn magic trick for cleaning things.
Later, when they find the corpses, Gregor shakes his head sadly. "I wonder if this had to happen, or if there was something we could have done to prevent it." He looks over the corpses, their faces sticking in his mind. Gregor never forgot a face. "I don't think we have time to bury them all." He frowns.
When the people approach, Gregor calls out to them. "Hail, travelers in the woods. Were you with this band?" He gestures to to the corpses around the party. "Or has something else brought you here?"
"We wish to speak with you. We mean you no harm, and no... we were neither with this group or part of their demise. The Primals are responsible for that... well, at least for the killing. That idiot that lead them here is the cause of this fate. I think he will survive, but likely as a Primal now."
Assuming you allow him to continue....
"My name is Rhakis Szadro. As you must know by now, you have strayed into a civil war here. I am the pack leader for the Prince's Wolves. We have been primarily in battle with these Primals, and hope to avoid another fight with them. Perhaps we can help each other."
"My tribe has long opposed the Whispering Way, who we believe were involved in slaying Kvalca Sain. If so, they are the cause of all of this mess, although I am not entirely clear on what the purpose was. But whatever their plan, I am sure it is no good for any of us."
"Tracking them now might be tough, as they are days ahead of us. But I can smell the Jezeldan, and I believe they are in pursuit already. Those demon worshippers might well destroy the Whispering Way, but if they return with Sain's heart, then life around here would get very bloody. If their leader, Adimarus Ionacu, were to become the packlord, he would wage a ceaseless war against all innocent humans in these lands."
"Someone will need to remain here and regain control. I will take Mathus' heart to establish some dominance, and once Sain's heart is removed from the picture, the packs will all line up behind me again. If you are to pursue the Way, I believe they are headed to the ghost town of Feldgrau. I can make your way easier with maps and tokens that will allow you to pass without any Prince's Wolves causing you problems. Do you agree?"
Niculaie glances to his comrades for their consent, then bows to Rhakis.
"Thank you for your offer, Mr. Szadro. When we entered the Shudderwood, we had no intention of involving ourselves in the ... politics of the packs, but our hunt for the Whispering Way left us no choice. Subject to any objections from my comrades, I think I am safe in saying that we accept."
"Very well, then."
She hands you each a medallion with a wolf head stamped into the front. "Wear these and at least no Prince's Wolves will hamper you."
"Good luck on your journey."
The distance between Ascanor Lodge and Feldgrau is approximately 134 miles, approximately 4 days’ travel by horse or 6 days on foot. In wolf form, the Demon Wolves move as fast as horses, so mounts of some kind are the best option for travelling quickly.