[[CUTSCENE]]
The warm night air carried the sweet scent of jasmine through the open window of the nursery, gently moving the silk curtains in random patterns. The night smells mixed perfectly with the clove incense burning in a brazier beside the prince’s tiny bed. A chorus of crickets filled the night with their eternal song as the ruler of Jalmeray, Thakur Kharswan, stood silently in the dark, enjoying the moment of his son’s blissful slumber. All was well in the Kingdom of the Impossible.
Two heavy thuds came from just outside the room and the night sounds suddenly ceased. A large, sinewy shadow seemed to melt into the room from the now open doorway. The shadow grew as it inched across the marble floor and crept up the far wall to writhe over the prince’s bed. Thakur stood observing with a strange detachment as the shadow took on the shape of a gigantic hooded cobra. It stopped writhing and two slender arms sprouted from the main trunk of the shadow, each holding a curved dagger. A harsh whispering chant began and the cloying scent of putrefaction overpowered the once sweet air. The whispering stopped, and with a blinding swiftness the two arms descended towards the prince…
Thakur Kharswan jolted upright in bed, his heart pounding in his ears and his forehead beaded with sweat. The royal chamber was pitch black and quiet as a tomb. The night braziers were unlit...Strange....Thakur rotated and sat on the edge of his bed, his bare feet touching the floor. The marble was cold. Very cold. It should still be warm from the heat of the day. He mumbled, “Murnish, why are my lights out?”....Silence....“Murnish, attend at once!”....Silence...For the first time in over thirty years Thakur’s inner calm broke into unfamiliar fear. And then the gravelly voice was suddenly at his right ear, startling him even more, “I am here, my master.”
“Murnish, why did you not respond immediately? Why are my lights out? Rectify.”
The braziers suddenly glowed softly and the chill blackness fled the room. The sound of crickets drifted in from the night.
The deep, gravelly voice responded with indifference, this time in his left ear, “I was elsewhere.”
Thakur’s calm was now completely shattered. “What is the meaning of this? You are indentured and commanded to never be absent.”
The otherworldly voice shifted to in front of the king. “True. I was here as commanded…and then I was taken…elsewhere.”
Thakur stood up and began pacing, utterly confused. “Impossible. You are my sandestin. Explain. And trade your typical surly brevity for more complete and contrite remarks. Indenture points hang in the balance of your response.”
Without a change in tone Murnish muttered, “You were sleeping as usual, my master. I, who never sleep, watched with twelve senses attuned across eight dimensions. Three mosquitoes flew in through the window. I ate them. Your breathing became irregular and your eyelids fluttered about. Dream weft, in colors not your own, filled the room. A sonic disturbance broke the air and I was suddenly beyond this plane.”
Thakur stopped pacing and held his chin, deep in thought. He knew that there were very few powers in the multiverse that could snatch, let alone influence, a bound sandestin of Murnish’s ilk. “What was the nature of this sonic disturbance?”
“It was your scream”.
Thakur looked up sharply. He flung open his chamber doors and swiftly ran to the prince’s room. Four guards stood at attention in the palace hallway, as they always have, and the door to his son’s chamber was closed as normal. He grabbed a lit torch from the wall and quickly pushed the doors open, bursting into the room, the mystified guards trailing in his wake. Matiriya, nurse maid to the prince startled out of her chair by the prince’s bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, stammering as she reflexively lowered her head in the king’s presence, “Your majesty, how may I serve you?”
Thakur rushed to the bed, shoving aside the flustered maid, and threw back his son’s silk blanket. He lay there, breathing peacefully. Thakur breathed a deep sigh of relief and, gaining his composure, addressed the maid. “Has anyone or anything disturbed the prince’s slumber tonight?”
“Nothing, your majesty. I sang the Three Verses of Vudra’s blessings and he slept peacefully all night."
Thakur breathed in deep. If it was not for the fact that someone, or something, had banished Murnish, even for a brief moment, he would have thought this night’s event nothing more than a bad dream... Murnish had mentioned something about dreams. He turned to exit and that is when he saw the sign. There, hanging above the door was the severed head of Thakur’s brother, the Pasha of Dwarkut, his guest at the palace this week. The neck was blackened and cauterized, the eyes and mouth blackened and melted as if by acid. A black lotus flower dangled from a hole in his forehead. When the king suddenly paused in mid-step, the nurse lifted her eyes ever so slightly and saw what had caused him to falter. Her scream pierced the night sky, awakening the child and half of the palace.
The Ebon Cult was here in Jalmeray.
[[END CUTSCENE]]
I roll to see if I can make a thunderous toot
Your voyage from Katapesh to the port city of Niswan, capital of Jalmeray, is nearing an end and so far it has proceeded without incident. The Katapesh captain and crew have been in high spirits aboard their merchant ship, The Veiled Maiden, and are looking forward to the lucrative trade awaiting them. It is nearing sunset and there is but one day left on the seas before landfall.
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Staring out across the water Renken leans forward against the railing. He runs a hand through his short blond hair and whispers a prayer for safe travel and good company. Then turns around pulling a flask of spirits and drinking from it as his light green eyes casually watch the sailors go about their work.
Estebahn is standing towards the bow of the ship whittling a small boat in his hands. Every few minutes, he glances towards the horizon hoping to spot the end of the voyage. He stands hunched over the railing, trying to steady his hands against the rocking of the ship. Occasionally, he will detract his piercing gaze to the sailors, looking for any signs of their work being done the "unnatural" way.
Continuing on with his project, he steps away from the railing and walks towards the center of the ship, minding his own business, but continuously checking for anything out of place.
Standing near the prow of the Veiled Maiden, Cugal stares down at the swirling blue tattoos that snake up his forearms, ruminating once more on the freakish chain of events that has brought him to this very moment....a brazen dare by a merchant artifact collector to procure mysterious objects of power from the thrice cursed Moonpate the Potentate.
With great stealth and mysterious powers emanating with a faint blue nimbus from outstretched arms, wealth and fame were within reach... then that hideous cackle. A smile splitting the slab-like jowls of Moonpate the Potentate. An ensuing odious lecture regarding the rude habits of thieves and how one could make up for such poor manners by doing the Potentate a small favor on his behalf for a dear friend. This is readily agree to with the rye thought that a "small favor" is surely a good alternative to execution. Then with an infernal twinkle in the malodious Moonpate's eye, two spells are cast. A summoned sandestin summarily whisks Cugal away and deposits him 10,000 leagues from home onto the Veiled Maiden along with a powerful Geas to aid Thakur Kharswan as payment in full for the "ill-considered hijinks at the humble abode of Moonpate the Potentate."
Leaning over the ships prow, Cugal curses Moonpate for a fourth time, and with some consideration adds a vile curse for that monobrowed merchant who slyly challenged him to steal from Moonpate. Surely the two were in cahoots all along! Once the Geas has been satisfied, Cugal the Cryptic vows to return home and with full and proper regard of his manners, politely subdivide Moonpate's cabbage-like cranium! With this grim thought, the tattoos on Cugal's arms begin to glow faintly.
As the sun begins to set the wind that has been steady and strong all day slackens considerably. The captain and several of the other sailors curse loudly, but it is nothing you have not heard several times already on this voyage. Ten minutes later, however, the wind has died completely and the ship lies motionless on a sea as calm and flat as glass. Could this be the dreaded “doldrums” that sailors talk about in which ships lie motionless, sometimes for days at a time. The captain looks at the sky accusingly and barks orders in Kelish. The sailors mutter darkly and begin stowing the sails.
"He's probably taking a nap down in the hull somewhere. You know how the old man is, fight hard, sleep hard. As for the weather, something is definitely not natural about this. I suspect we have some unfaithful magician tinkering with what shouldn't be tinkered with. Or some wizard trying to prove something."
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Heaves a sigh and offers Estebahn a drink from the flask, "Damn Arcanes always messing in what should be left alone. If I had a copper for every time a church had to step in and save those idiots from their own 'experiments', well I'd sure have nicer gear." A grin flashes across his face as he turns to view the other people on the ship but his face drops as he spots Cugal. "What do you make of that guy? I won't lie those tattoos make my skin crawl."
The sails have been stowed and the sun has almost set in the west, creating a strange, eerie glow on the unusually becalmed sea. Staring at the effect your eye catches something strange low on the horizon. It looks initially like a smudge of darkness that shifts slightly with the last golden rays of sunlight. It then seems to grow and shift more when you realize that it is not growing but getting closer. The lookout in the crow's nest above shouts something in Kelish and everyone is now looking to the west. It is now clear that the blot of darkness is a huge flock of seagulls, the biggest you have ever seen, and soon they are screeching overhead launching volleys of droppings so thick that it is impossible to dodge them all. A panicked minute later the birdemic is over as they continue flying east in unusual haste, leaving everyone and everything befouled.
Cugal flicks some bird shit from his hands and raises a fist to the heavens, "MOONPATE!!!!!" Cugal, however does not believe for a second that this hoard of flying shitters was sent from that corpulent mage of misery, but is more likely fleeing from some other terror headed our way. Thinking of safety in numbers, Cugal moves toward what looks to be a small group of adventurer of dubious potential and announces with a heavy Scottish-like burr, "Oy,shipmates! Keep a frosty eye out for whatever that there flying shit storm was fleeing from. Something wicked be comin' this way!"
"well that's unfortunate. I just washed my clothes yesterday! What could cause such a ruckus in a bunch of stupid birds?"
I lean my lanky form over the railing and squint my eyes towards the horizon, trying to get a better look at what is coming towards us.
"Maybe this is a sign from a greater source perhaps? Some dark force beyond our comprehension?"
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Turn and shouts towards captain "hey don't you have any other way to move this ship? Oars or anything? I wanna go that way!" I point in the direction the birds came from. I screw the top back on my flask and use my rag to start cleaning the hilt of Nikki with a shit eating grin on my face. "Somebody ought to wake the old guy. This is gonna be fun!"
The captain ignores Renken as he continues staring westward in concern. Everyone is straining their eyes looking into the west for any hint of further trouble, but it is the crow's nest lookout who shouts out again, this time in utter panic.
In the fading light you can all now make out the distinct shape of a large three-masted dark ship under full sail heading straight towards your vessel through the completely calm seas. Your captain's eyes bulge and he shouts a stream of Kelish, gesticulating wildly to his helm. Of course, the sails have been stowed and there is no wind. The helmsman yells back and now many of the sailors are yelling and gesticulating in panic.
Cugal turns to the two adventurers near by, shouting over the frantic curses of the sailors, "Listen Mates, that ship brings only death for all on board here. Unless ya want that to include us, we need tah organize a defense. If we live through this, we'll have a hell of a tale to tell our wee bairns some day. Captain! How much time do we have till we're boarded? Does anyone on this god forsaken ship have any spells to ward us against evil and stupidity? Though can't say for the life o' me, which is worse!"
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"I have something but it does not last too long, so if you want me to help you stay close when the fighting starts" Irritated at being ignored I turn and shout to the captain "Hey how about cannons? You got anything other than ME to defend this ship? Don't get me wrong I'm good, my friend here," I gesture at Estebahn,"He aint half bad, and Tats here seems like he's good in a fight, but that is a damn big ship so you gotta have SOMETHING to narrow the odds!" I stand up and draw Nikki her mithral blade gleams like fire in the fading sunlight
Cohen climbs on deck from the hold, wiping the remnants of the meal he ate hours earlier from his white, ale stained beard."I smell death on the wind, and I know it ain't mine," he rasps, his old bones creaking as he draws his battered bastard sword from it's sheath. He looks towards the oncoming ship, "Shame, that... A glorious death it would be."
"I have something but it does not last too long, so if you want me to help you stay close when the fighting starts" Irritated at being ignored I turn and shout to the captain "Hey how about cannons? You got anything other than ME to defend this ship? Don't get me wrong I'm good, my friend here,"
The captain pauses in his gesticulations long enough to digest what Renken has said. He looks about, as if seeing his ship for the first time, and then he starts shouting again at a group of sailors nearby. He points to the fore and aft ballista and barks orders. Sailors start moving with purpose and man their stations with nervous determination. The captain turns to your small group and in heavily accented Common replies in a grim voice, "Time to earn your passage. I hope your skills are truly as you stated when I took you on board as guards."
Before you can reply the scout above shouts again and everyone stops to look west. The strange ship is moving quickly across the glass-smooth ocean on an intercept course. The sun is almost done setting behind it as a heavy mist rises from the water before any details can be seen. Your visibility has been reduced to about 300 yards in every direction. The ship can be heard though, with the sound rising in a strangely magnified manner that seems to come from all around you. You hear the creaks and groans of the ship as if it is barely holding together, but absolutely no voices of any kind. Not a shout, not a wail, not a song--only an ominous sound like a moan coming from many, many throats.
"Did I just hear some creepy sailor say 'Dead Men tell no tales.'?" Shaking his head at such a macabre utterance, Cugal sees Renken's blade and with a note of hope in his voice states, "That should come in very handy against the living dead we are undoubtedly about to dance a gig with." Cugal, himself brings his own enchanted spear to the ready. He also ties a bright blue cloth around his dome uttering, [b] "Just so no friendly mistakes me for a brigand in all the chaos and confusion this cursed mist is likely to bring. I suggest everyone else do likewise if ye can." [b/]
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"Looks like a plan... If only I had something, ooh I think I might have just the trick." I mutter a short prayer and my mithral shirt starts to glow, and I start to sing, "I'm an Angel of Cailean, I'm a star from the sky. With this Tinkle in my eye and just a bit of wine. All the ladies will claim I'm totally divine. But TIS NOT I THIS POWER THAT YOU'VE SEEN, THEY'VE BEEN GRANTED TO MEEEEEEE LORD CAYYYYYYDEN CAILLLLLLEAN BLESSES THEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" I twirl Nikki in a salute and take a deep bow, " Whew... couldn't hold that back longer if I tried."
Through the growing mist a sickly green glow can be observed two points off the aft deck. Everyone turns to look as a tall, black ship emerges from the fog bank at high speed. The moaning grows louder, keening like a hundred men in pain and misery, with strange half-heard pleas for mercy and rest carried in strident undertones. Nailed to the foremast and prow are what appear to be bodies and all along the railing are skulls. The vessel appears to be crewed entirely by skeletons.
Your captain shouts again, his eyes wild with fear, and now the crew begins to panic. You don't understand most of what is being said but you do catch enough to understand something about “the Dread”.
Cohen takes out a piece of rope and quickly ties it around the mast. He then stands on the side opposite the approaching vessel, holding the free end of the rope in his free hand. "Unless yuh enjoy fighting with bits of debris in yuh, yuh best find somethin' ta hide behind 'fore they ram us. And make it somethin' sturdy yuh can hang on ta, or yuh'll be dead 'fore the fightin starts!" he yells.
Cugal nods to the old warrior's wisdom. Small symbols- like Egyptian eyes, scattered across his body light up in a brilliant explosion of blue while Cugal's eyes glow like twin azure crystals and then his entire body just fades...seemingly disappearing into the drifting fog of war. One second later, the mist were Cugal was just an eye blink ago glows faintly blue and a deep vibrating thrum is heard. Cugal uses greater concealling amorpha and then follows it up with defy gravity- floating up about 6 feet.
"If there's anything worse than a pirate, it's a dead pirate that won't stay dead."
Estebahn snaps his fingers and a sickle appears in his right hand. As is his usual custom, he traces the scar on his left hand with the tip of the sickle, drawing just a drop of blood at the end. He looks towards Cugal and notices him floating in the air.
"Well...that's a neat trick. All those prison tats give you some special powers? I'd take a few!" Then, glancing at Cohen, "Hey old man, it looks like they have trouble dying too!"
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I look up towards the sky and whisper with a wink "Little help here?" I pull the holy symbol from underneath my shirt and bow my head for a moment. The mist around me shines reflecting my glowing armor and for a moment the fog behind my shoulders appears as feathery wings before fading away. With a smirk to my comrades I push off the deck and fly up ten feet and settle down to hover at the same level as Cugal. I cast Fly
Cugal uses greater concealling amorpha and then follows it up with defy gravity- floating up about 6 feet.
As the ship emerges it is about 300 yards away and closing very fast, so you basically have one round of actions to take before the ship is within boarding range.
Cohen turns his head to Estebahn, "Don't worry lad, fer dat, I be more dan happy ta teach dem!" He then leans in close to the mast, tightly grasps his sword in one hand and the rope in the other, and braces for impact.
You all look to the onrushing ship and brace for the worst as the crew around you panics in various ways, including completely misfiring the aft ballista. The dark, gruesome ship rushes forward and at the last second swerves in a manner that no normal ship could accomplish at speed and then comes to a dead stop to draw alongside the starboard side. The moaning stops as you look across the ten foot gap into the visages of a horde of armed skeletons that are flinging grappling hooks and boarding planks, screened by a dozen or so that fire crossbow bolts across the distance. Though the moaning has stopped you can now perceive the harsh, sibilant screams of the Infernal tongue.
Floating near the mast, Cugal grabs a hold of it and moves himself behind it for protection from the crossbow bolts. In addition, he uses his initiative to activate his Inertial Armor ability.
"By the bearded scrot of a hoary goat! It's a Game of Bones we be playin! Let's send them all down to Ol' Davey Jones!"
"Curse deez old bones o' mine," Cohen says, seeming sluggish.
Renken - 21
Cugal - 15
Estebahn - 14
The Forces of Unstoppable Doom - 9
Cohen - 8
as previously noted, Cugal uses a standard action to active his Inertial Armor.
I take a standard action to cast Holy Smite at a skeleton in the center of the mass.
Flying above the impending melee, Renken is afforded a perfect view of the devil ship's mass of charging skeletons and their infernal leaders. He easily fixes a mental image of where his power unleashed will cause the most damage and then summons the will to call upon Cayden's Smite. With a quick hand he flicks open a silvered flask at his waist containing the blessed wine and boldly speaks the word of power. A tiny drop of the potent liquor flies out and streaks forth gaining in size and taking on a brilliance that sparks with chaotic flashes of purple and white. In an eye blink the gourd sized ball of holy power reaches its destination and bursts forth in a twenty foot explosion that lights up the murky dark, showering the massed creatures in a cascade of divinely infused alcohol that burns and blasts, wreaking devastation to all caught within its power. The bone devil's taut flesh boils and smokes as it howls in obvious pain and rage, its clawed hands reflexively covering its momentarily blinded eyes.
as previously noted, Cugal uses a standard action to active his Inertial Armor.
Estebahn, while kneeling by the rail, closes his eyes, and begins tracing the same symbol from his hand on the deck of the ship with his sickle, casting burst of speed on Cohen. Looking up towards the old man, he nods his head and says "That should help those old bones move a bit faster you old man." Then, opening his eyes, he changes his stare towards the impending skeletons while smirking. "I love seeing the old man smash bones!" he thinks to himself.
Estebahn, while kneeling by the rail, closes his eyes, and begins tracing the same symbol from his hand on the deck of the ship with his sickle, casting burst of speed on Cohen.
Estebahn kneels by the railing, closing his eyes and traces the same symbol from his hand on the deck of the ship with his sickle and casts burst of speed on himself....and then smirks.