The cat clings to her life force.
Andor pierces the priest's left flank, which opens the priest's right flank to Red, who completely butchers the Asmodean cleric! One of him was simply an illusion, which disappears upon the man's death.
Cleric of Asmodeus - dead
COMBAT OVER
Damages:
Andor -13
SK2 -7
Red -18
Roldala -2
Edmund -5
Kissan negative 6
E8: This series of open galleries may have once held numerous
paintings and other objects of curiosity in several glass cases,
but today the displays are all empty.
--> what do you do with the Victocora signet rings recovered from the zombies?
E9: This room’s shelves and displays seem more akin to those
one would find in a storefront than a museum. While the
shelves are relatively empty, what rubbish remains on them
further supports the conclusion that this was once some sort
of shop. Four long tables in the middle of the room seem
to have seen more recent use, their surfaces cluttered with
papers and objects. The group of Asmodean redactors (monks)
have recently worked here, painstakingly sifting through documents
recovered from displays, shelves, and storage areas in
the Fantasmagorium.
is enough to gather enough components to create two
spell pouches, as well as a bottle of lead-based ink worth
50 gp, five miniature ivory doors worth 5 gp each, a roll of
copper wire worth 25 gp, 50 gp worth of silver dust, and
100 gp worth of diamond dust. None of the documents
on the desk contain much of interest, as the relative lack
of redactions suggests.
E10: Overturned desks and scattered paperwork cover the floor
of this large workroom; doors hang open on the walls to
the southeast and northeast to reveal empty offices, each
containing a number of bedrolls and supplies.
-->Cleric of Asmodeus loot: scroll of dispel magic, unholy water (2); breastplate, +1 heavy mace, mwk light mace, golden unholy symbol worth 100 gp, four onyx gems worth 25 gp each, 8 gp
-->Treasure:
The cleric of Asmodeus has been working on a tome
called The History and Future of Humanity, a text sacred to
the worshipers of Aroden. The priest has been scouring
this text for some kind of clues, as per notes he had been
taking on a neat pile of vellum paper beside it. The inside
cover contains a short note: “Turn the eye to spell the
name of the Master of Masters.” This refers to the eye
on the statue in area E6
knows that Irori is likely the Master of Masters mentioned in the note.
The book itself is otherwise in good condition and is worth 100 gp.
E6: A circular alcove off this hallway cradles a lovingly maintained
statue of a regal man, his arms outstretched and his chest
adorned with a carving of a winged eye. Empty picture frames
line the walls.
identifies the statue as a depiction of the dead god
Aroden. This alcove has stood carefully preserved for
years. In the past century, it has become something of a
shrine to the lost god, with inert relics of his faith framed
and preserved. The frames on the walls once displayed
pages from Aroden’s holy texts, but these have been
removed and are now being studied in area E9.
As per the note you found inside the book's cover, you find
that the pupil of the winged eye on the statue’s chest can be
rotated, and that several tiny runes are carved around the
pupil’s circumference. A single faint divot on the upper edge
of the iris points to one of these runes, which are the letters
of the Azlanti language.
|
"This ... this was a touch fight!" Andor says exhausted.
* * * Room E6 * * *
"Hmmm ... a shrine to Aroden. Interesting. And this statue is quite interesting, too."
* * * Room E8
Andor goes back to the remains of Rexus parents and sends a prayer to Chalidra and Pharasma to take care of them in their afterlife.
Andor takes the signet rings and puts them in his bag of holding.
* * * Room E9 * * *
"I cannot find anything here. Better you guys take a look, too."
* * * Room E10 * * *
Andor searches the body of the priest of Asmodeus as well as the bodies of all the fallen monks. He takes the golden unholy symbol worth 100 gp, four onyx gems worth 25 gp each, 8 gp.
He hands over the scroll to Edmund. "Only you know real magic so you better take this."
Andor reads through the tome 'The History and Future of Humanity' and then packs into his bag.
"Irori is likely the Master of Masters mentioned in the note."
|
|
Andor reads the text again which they found.
“Turn the eye to spell the name of the Master of Masters.”
"Does anyone here speak Azlanti? I could try to manipulate the statue and turn the divot on the upper edge of the iris pointing to the runes that form 'Irori' but I would rely only on my limited linguistics and not real knowledge of Azlanti."
|
Roldala takes a few moments to sit heavily against a wall as the search begins. She'd been well trained to leave it all out on the arena's sands, and after a bout that lasted that long, she needed the rest.
She shakes her head heavily at Andor's question, "At least you only need to guess three letters."
|
As the last of the blood settles after Red's vicious attack , Edmund kneels back down next to Kissan. Wand still in hand, he channels it's energy into the creature- watching her stir.
As the cat awakens, you see a small tear form in the grizzled man's eyes.
"I thought I had lost you, mate. Don't you ever let that happen to you again, you hear me!" and with a laugh he embraces the strong black animal.
Turning the wand on himself, he attempts to restore some of the strength lost to the cleric's spells.
Turning towards Red, he offers a hand.
"Thank you, Sir. I am quite appreciative of you saving my cat and all. Consider your next ale on me."
-------------------------------------------
Edmund takes his time in the room, shifting through the documents. At several points he thinks he is on the verge of putting everything together- but immediately becomes disheartened by the apparently useless documents.
He comes back into the other room while his companions are talking about Master of Masters. [b]"Sorry gents, not much I can add to these religious things. I know of the Great Dreamer but little else.
|
Red ends his rage as the cleric falls and starts to fall really lethargic for the next couple minutes. "Rrr..fun..no need thanks human..Rrr." Later on, he searches his belongings for a potion and gulps it in a single swig! "Rrr..Feel better..."
Red follows alongside Andor but doesn't really make sense of anything. "Rrr... Why not turn eye until something happen?"
Andor and SK2 manage to rotate the eye to the proper Azlanti letters that spell "Irori", which causes the statue to slide to the northeast against the wall, revealing a circular flight of stairs leading down.
|
|
As the secret door opens, Edmund reaches down to touch Kissan's shoulder. "Looks like we ain't going home yet girl. Best be seeing what other surprises this place holds."
He pauses and glances down the steps.
"Hopefully we already killed all the threatening types- still though... no sense being stupid about it. Desna, watch over us!" Once again he touches Kissan, and then himself, and draws his bow.
Walking down the stairs:
The wrought-iron spiral stairway descends from the ceiling
into a massive library. Bookshelves, both freestanding and
wall-mounted, rise up to a ceiling forty feet above. Ladders
on tracks allow access to the higher shelves, yet few books
and scrolls remain here. Bloodstains mar the floor here and
there, and some of the shelves bear what appears to be
recent battle damage. A strange rune inscribed in a circle
decorates the floor.
As the heroes of the Kintargo Rebellion arrive in the large library below, a humanoid-shaped figure of folded paper and silken ribbons rise from behind the shelves and hovers gently in the air. It wears the open cover of some great tome like a metal- and leather-bound mask. It speaks, "You are all intruders and can proceed no further into the complex. If you do so, my terms of service dictate that I will be obliged to attack and announce your arrival to the designated occupants of these halls."
"Ready for what, female of orcish descent?"
"I am Yilliv, a scrivenite from the Plane of Axis. My terms of service will expire in 54 days. Until then, those terms include the protection of the Asmodeans and this site from intruders. I will not be forced to attack if you don’t attempt to interact with any of the books in this room or move further into the complex. There are 9 monks in the halls beyond this room, a male ogrekin they call 'The Lout' and a devil-bound woman called Nox. The devil-bound woman is the leader, and is also personally served by a hellhound named Mephiry."
|
|
Andor looks at the rest of the group and is slightly confused.
"To be honest I do not know what this being is but we have to go back up and spend the night there and hope nobody comes out to be able to regenerate! I am in no shape to fight so many people at the moment!"
Then he looks at the scrivenite.
"I am very sorry but I have a couple of questions to you Mr. scrivenite. 1) How often these Asmodeans that you have to protect go upstairs and at what times? 2) Do you know who their leader is? 3) Who made you do all this protective duty? 4) Do you know what happened to the former residents of this site?"
|
|
Edmund listens to the guardian, but begins to doubt the story. Eight more, in addition to those upstairs? Seems unlikely to me.
”If there are eight more monks, why do they need you to guard them? I’d be thinking they could defend themselves.” The human observes the room around him and then continues. ”besides, there doesn’t look like there is much left to guard. Based on the damage and blood- seems like the battle has already happened.”
"ONE - they go upstairs daily, one hour after the curfew imposed by their city leaders, in groups of two only, to gather supplies, and they return a few hours later with variable arrival times; TWO - I do not know her other that she is called Nox and she has been bound to a devil in return for additional powers; THREE - “the one who commands me” and I shall say no more, as “the one who commands me” made sure my terms of service included not revealing that person's identity; FOUR - When Thrune’s agents struck against the Sacred Order of Archivists, they used overwhelming force. Powerful devils and high-ranking Asmodeans worked together to smite the archivists in a devastating assault. Now that the critical information has been extracted, the majority of the forces involved have been recalled to the temple, the opera house, Castle Kintargo, and other more important holdings in the city. As part of our agreement, "the one who commands me" promised to let me read a valuable tome, a copy of The Inward-Facing Circle, and this opportunity is what tipped the scales in me agreeing for this... bargain... but after seeing the Asmodean redactors in action and the cruelties they visited upon the Irorans, I have come to regret this decision."
Yilliv turns to Edmund, "I do not know the answers to your questions or the motives behind “the one who commands me” for keeping me for the entire agreed upon duration. I suspect they see me as expendable fodder and early warning device - regrettably, if I must attack intruders or if they attack me, my agreement specifies that I must warn the occupants of this place telepathically. It would be unfortunate, and I hope you heed my instructions... or somehow... nevermind."
"..or somehow... I perhaps misidentified you, and you work for Nox, by any chance? who are you?"
The scrivenite cocks his head to one side and although he/she has no eyes, you think he/she is staring - just STARING - at Edmund, and after several long seconds, says "That seems logical to me. How else would you have acquired this unbelievably complex password, yes? you may pass. And please convey my most sincere salutations to Nox and the other Asmodeans. Oh, and one more thing. If this is a lie, you'll have to understand that this can only be a one way trip... a one-time opportunity. For if you fail in whatever endeavor that has been set before you, and you return before the 54 days are up, I regret that the occupants here will have informed me of your deceit, and my hand will be forced at that time... bound by the magical strictures that govern the planes and borrowed servants such as myself. Good day."
Yilliv's pages all return inside the cover that is his face, and the book gently levitate down into the nearby shelves.
The book stirs no more.
F1.
Very little of value remains on the shelves
here—there are only a few dozen books left. In all, these
minor tomes weigh 60 pounds and are worth 200 gp.
You uncover a small
stash of valuables still concealed behind a locked secret
panel. The lock can be opened with Rexus’s mithral
key. Within lies a bookplate of recall, a pearl of power
(1st level), two scrolls of air bubble, two scrolls of identify, a
scroll of silence, a silver magnifying glass worth 150 gp, an
owl-shaped platinum letter opener worth 50 gp, an ivory and
gold bookmark worth 20 gp, and 10 gilt pages from an illuminated manuscript worth 10 gp each.
F2.
Each of these 10-foot-square cells contains a bed,
a trunk, and a desk. Once used archivists and
visitors during long projects or when they wished to
temporarily disappear from public life, these nine
chambers spread throughout the complex are now
used by the nine Asmodean redactors working between
areas F4 and F6.
F3.
Three larger chambers are set aside for the order’s
Chancery Scribes—senior members who made great
contributions to the library or the order’s understanding
of history. Each apartment features a private bedchamber,
workspace, and washroom. Area F3b’s bedchamber
includes a small portrait: a young Rexus Victocora
flanked by a middle-aged man and woman, whom you
recognize as two of the unfortunate scorched zombies in area
E8 above.
Secret doors open to short passages that run between each apartment, allowing for private conferences between the archivists’ elite.
F4.
The overwhelming stench of rotting flesh fills this wide,
table-strewn chamber. A web of barbed chains strangles its
way throughout the room, supporting the decayed corpse
of a man in drab robes. At the center of the web, suspended
above the flagstones by its black iron tendrils, rests a fistsized,
twelve-sided box fashioned from wood and bronze.
Wooden cases along the southwestern wall have been
smashed and overturned. Small pieces of paper covered with
notes are scattered throughout the room, as if someone’s
been studying the strange tableau for days.
More pressing is the fact that four Asmodean redactors are milling about the room, studying the strange 12-sided box, the chains, and the corpse... they are deep in thoughts and note-taking, and have not noticed you.
Surprise Round:
All heroes are up!