Tatienne shrugs. "Frankly, I don't see the point. It is happy to leave with our rat, and I'm happy its not leaving with me. Let's not gamble with the rest of our lives."
"Actually Geborah, the "guards" have bows. I kept light and played prisoner, remember. No armor, not a great weapon selection, no magic except one single scroll that might and I mean might hurt the thing. Now I respect your loyalty to the rat, but answer the man that doesn't want to follow you blindly. Point us in the right direction and let's get on our way." Wraith starts shaking his head at the absurdness of the situation.
With grim determination, Balam tkaes the opportunity to strike out quickly with his longsword.
Tatienne and Balam each manage to each get good, solid strikes in on the toad as it hops away, and Geborah's firebolt finishes the beast off collapsing it before it reaches the water.
Cutting FireSkorn free of the toad's stomach, unfortunately, reveals that it was too late to save him. His rib cage and spine have been crushed, and it's clear that his skull was cracked when the toad swallowed him.
Geborah crows laughter as the toad flops over, smoldering, into the swamp.
"The point, Tatienne, is vengeance. No one and no thing survives killing one of us. I promised to guide, counsel, protect, and sustain you? Add avenge to the list. I'm sure Skorn would approve."
She stalks up to the side of the dead toad, and prods its thick hide with a sharp nail. "Here's the creature you should animate, Wraith. Jaws like a steel trap." Then, with a slash and much pulling, she tears open the beast's stomach, spilling Skorn's remains on the ground. "What a way to go. Grumblejack, I know it's a lot to ask, but could you carry his body a little while, so I can lay it to rest with dignity?"
Shaking blood from her hands, the young girl advances on Dante.
"We are going to meet our benefactors, the ones who smuggled to me the implements we needed to escape Brandenscar, like this Archstar, Tatienne's dagger...and these." She holds up the bloody lockpicks she retreived from Fireskorn's corpse. "They used powerful magics to get them to us. I'm certain that meeting them is an opportunity arranged by the god Asmodeus, whose priestess I am."
"It's not far to their sanctum from here. I've kept our destination to myself because I didn't want our plans to be exposed if one of us were captured. Also, it seemed wise, when shepherding a bunch of homicidal adults with poor impulse control, to shield myself with a secret. I'm sure you understand."
"Before you met me, you all expected to die horribly at our enemies' hands. Have a little faith, and follow a little further."
Geborah checks the map, nods confidently, and sets off through the moor.
Jezabel leans over and whispers in Dante's ear.
"She thinks she's a grown up. Poor thing. Utterly mad."
Then she goes back to singing to herself, a creepy little nonsense ditty about being swallowed alive...
Frowning slightly, Tatienne nudges the dead toad with her foot. "There's no vengeance to be extracted from an animal, dear. They can't reason. Therefore, they cannot understand the cause and effect that leads to their misery. They are just things, acting on impulse. Nothing more, nothing less."
"At any rate, I agree with you in part. This toad would make a fine guardian. Perhaps Grumblejack should carry it instead?"
"People let me stop you all before you decide what I can and can't do. What I can do is animate it, but only the skeleton which means it would loose its impressive swallowing ability and might not retain its biting ability. Plus due to its size it means I can't easily hide it if we walk into a town. No friends I'll stick to animating humanoids... Now if perchance we come across a lizard folk in this moor. That would be an impressive guardian. "
"Tatienne, you know perfectly well it's too late to slap a mosquito after it's bitten you...but you do anyway. Why? For vengeance!"
"Vengeance isn't about reason or understanding. It's about wrath. It's about pride. How dare some insignificant vermin cause you discomfort? Crush it! Who cares if it knows what it has done? You know. Asmodeus teaches that it is an offense to your own dignity to forbear."
Balam kept quiet as the others debated philosophy. Such thoughts were beyond him. He was a warrior, a hound trained to heel and attack at his master's command without question or forethought. So far, none of these people seemed worthy of holding his leash.
Rather, he spent his time watching their path, looking for followers from behind, and dangers to come.
But, Geborah's words still haunt him, and he finally turns his stern eye to the child. "You were wise to keep your secret while we were in prison. But, we are not in prison now, and the threat of torture loosening our lips is far gone. Now, you have placed yourself as the sole arbiter of our safety. Have a care with your secrets and jests, child. If you fall, we are all lost. That would encourage us to keep you alive, but it also dooms us should you grow lost or weary of our company. You could simply die from other causes through no fault or inaction of our own.".
He grimaces, clearly uncomfortable with such independence and will fill thoughts.
[B]"You say you are a priestess of the God of this World. Excellent, then let us bind ourselves in a manner pleasing to the First. We write a contract, as strong as the iron chains of Hell, and just as biting. You will tell us where we are going,,and whom our benefactor is,as well as any other information you have that is pertinent to our survival, and goals. We will all swear to mutual protection and support until a specific condition is met. Then, we will go our separate ways upon completion. If we break the terms of the contract, we will suffer the full wroth of our company, the condemnation of the Dark Prince, and the censure of our Faith. As a sacred knight, sworn to His most holy church, I can think of no better way to ensure our cooperation and loyalty. W
Dante listens very carefully to Geborah's explanation, gathering what he can from it. She was still vague, but he guessed it was because she didn't know (despite her confidence and bluster) rather than because she wasn't willing to tell them. To test that theory, he asks, "Who are the benefactors? Do you know anything about their home, why they broke you out of prison, or how they were able to do so? Visitors aren't allowed at Branderscar, so whoever it was must have had some serious political pull..."
At Balam's suggestion, he shakes his head. "No." he says. "I am not going to sign some random contract that you - whoever you are - have drawn up to protect this girl when she won't even explain what we're even getting from following her."
"The contract wuold be to protect all of us. I am Balam Kael, a knight sworn to serve Asmodeus."
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Dante is not impressed. "We are standing in a swamp, one of your associates was just eaten by a giant frog, and I have no idea what's happening right now. No, I'm not signing a contract."
"At ease, gentlemen."
"Balam. I like your idea. It's traditional! But unless you have a contract in your back pocket, it's going to have to wait, because we're less than an hour from our destination."
Geborah walks as she talks, speaking softly, expecting the others to come along if they want to hear.
"Dante. The agent of our benefactors that I met called herself Tiadora. She was...formidible." She touches her cheek unconsciously, where a cold memory lingers. "She arranged a private meeting with me by spellbinding Sergeant Blackerly, told me that her superior wanted to meet us, gave me a magic veil that contained the implements of our escape, and implied that getting out and getting there was a test."
"So, what I know of our benefactors is that they have powerful magic, subtlety, and long-term plans--and that they have no qualms about turning us loose on the scum that held us in Brandenscar. Sounds like our kind of people."
"None of us can go home again anytime soon. This is our best opportunity."
"I can agree to a contract, but I'm wary. Your faith is tied to one who excels at making contracts, whats to say their are not loopholes to take advantage of the rest of us? But that can wait till we have the supplies to even write up one."
Balam shrugs. "as you wish."
Jezabel sings as she trudges through the swamp, seemingly unconcerned about the conversation going on around her.
After escaping the prison, surviving the monstrous Lashtongue and crossing the moors with guard patrols at your heels, finding the house on the Old Moor Road pales beside your other accomplishments. As promised, a lonely lantern burns in the upper story. The place otherwise shows little sign of habitation. Old but well-appointed, the house is large, imposing and alone on its hill. Painted a dark green and surrounded by barbed wrought iron fencing, nothing about this place seems inviting or a sanctuary. Still, it is your destination. Where will you go if not here? You have an appointment to keep. Best not to keep your nameless benefactor waiting…
"This is the place." Geborah does not hesitate to enter the gate and knock on the front door.
Unimpressed, Balam leads the others to the gate. He clearly is taking his cues from the others, but he's positioned himself in the front so he will take the brunt of any attacks
"Looks inviting," Offering his arm to Jezabel, "Lady Jeza, shall we go in and see what fine establishment our guide has found for us?"
Jezabel takes Wraith's arm and smiles. "Of course, dear. What's the worst that could happen?"
Then she laughs.
Dante isn't exactly pleased, but he's at least minimally satisfied that the girl saw fit to actually explain what was going on to him. And truly, he has nowhere else to go. So he follows along, going behind Wraith and Jezabel. In the back, if necessary. He'd like to keep an eye on everyone.
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Geborah enters the gate and walks up the path to the front doors before knocking on them. The door is opened by a hauntingly beautiful green-eyed woman Geborah immediately recognizes as Tiadora, no longer dressed for a funeral. Instead, she is wearing a diaphanous white gown that looks almost angelic. When she speaks, however, any illusions of an angelic nature are quickly dispelled.
"Dearest, you took long enough,” she says pitilessly. “We were beginning to wonder if you’d ever make it. Oh, and you brought friends. The master commands all of you to appear before him but before that, you must be made presentable. Slaves!” She claps her hands. A dozen young attractive men and women all wearing very traditional servant’s livery appear quickly, their heads bowed. “These people are our guests,” she commands imperiously. “See them to their rooms. I want them cleaned, dressed and refreshed. Quickly.” There is something in that last word that sounds like a threat. Certainly the slaves take it that way, hustling to perform their duties.
As you are all brought in to the manor, Tiadora looks disapprovingly at Grumblejack. "You seem to have gained a pet, dearest," she says, snidely.
"Grumblejack not pet! Grumblejack fearsome monster!"
"A monster? Hah! Get in my way, little ogre, and I'll show you what a real monster looks like. Now, my slaves will show you to your rooms. And maybe we'll even find a place to cage up your pet ogre."
Grumblejack watches Tiadora leave before leaning over to Jezabel and Wraith and whispering in their ears, "Grumblejack not like her. Someday, Grumblejack eat her."
The slaves are all addled and enchanted, similar to how the Sergeant was when she visited.
You are each led to your own separate rooms. They are comfortable, furnished with a wardrobe and decent-sized bed, as well as a stand mirror and a comfortable chair. There are hot baths ready for each of you. Laid out are fresh, clean clothes that seem to be perfectly sized for you. If any of you mention being hurt, your servant nods and leaves before returning with a glass of velvety red wine that heals your wounds. Once you are bathed and dressed, you are presented with hot, delicious food and fresh water as well.
You've done it. You've escaped Branderscar and managed to avoid your fate. Take a moment - savor your escape, and your freedom.
Jezebel smiles at Grumblejack. "I was thinking the same thing!" She laughs melodiously.
Jezabel enters the manor arm in arm with Wraith, with her good friend Grumblejack behind her. Before heading into her own room, she watches where Grumblejack is lead.
"Intriguing, don't worry big guy. When I have the chance I'll make you the most fearsome monster around." With a pat on Grumblejacks back.
"Excellent, the slaves' been charmed."
Taking the room next to or near Jezabel, Wraith waves for Grumblejack to join him. Taking the time to enjoy the bath, he orders the servant for medical aid for Grumblejack as well as food for the both of them.
As soon as he's done with the bath, he suggests to Grumblejack to take time to clean himself up in the bath. Drawing on the clean and well fit robes, he goes looking for Jeza to see how she's enjoying the services provided.
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Dearest. Geborah coneals a shiver at the word.
"Tiadora. I had no doubt you'd wait for me...a little while, at least. May I present Tatienne Talbot of Cheliax--Balam Kael, a knight sworn to the Dark Prince--Wraith Bonewalker and Jezabel--Dante Alighieri--and Grumblejack."
She arches an eyebrow when Tiadora denigrates Grumblejack. "He has followed orders loyally and well; such service deserves to be rewarded."
Geborah is clearly accustomed to such comforts as the manor offers. After a steamy bath, she demands that the maidservants dress her hair elegantly and lacquer her nails. She watches them closely, eager to punish any mistake, but finds no fault in them.
"Tiadora's trained you well," she remarks. "Tell me everything you can of her. Now."
The servant's livery might offer hints to who their mysterious master is...
...but Geborah recognizes none of their insignia. She has them dress her in red silk and black velvet, the silver Archstar burning on her throat, and composes herself to meet the master.
Grumblejack is lead away from the rest of you to a different part of the mansion. It appears he is not to be given the same accommodations as the rest of you.
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Seeing that Gurmblejack's being led elsewhere, Jezabel ignores her own room and follows behind them. When Wraith waves Grumblejack over, Jezabel guides Grumblejack into Wraith's room.
"You boys have fun."
She casts a baleful glare at the servants.
"Treat him as you would treat me." she orders them "Or I'll rip out your spleen and feed it to you."
With one final glare at the servants, Jezabel smiles, clearly imagining such and event.
"Mmmm..." She moans as her stomach growls. Then she wanders into her own room, beside Wraith's.
Finding more servants ready to tend to her, Jezabel's stomach growls again. She eyes the servants hungrily. It had been a while since she'd eaten...
Knowing it was in bad form to devour your host's servants without asking, Jezabel sighs.
"Fetch me food and healing, then leave." she orders them.
Covered in filthy, blood encrusted clothes, Jezabel strips down and examines herself in the mirror. With a mad song on her lips she climbs into the hot bathtub. She washes the filth off of herself, and--begrudgingly--the blood that's dried under her nails and in her hair.
When her food arrives she orders the servant to leave her alone, then eats while she's lounging in the tub.
Eventually she climbs out of the filthy water, and dries herself off. She examines the clothes on the bed with an an amused smile. A red dress and black boots. Fine fabric with those gaudy pentagrams all over the sleeves. She shakes her head and chuckles, tossing the clothes aside. She finds the undergarments agreeable, at least. Smooth as silk and finer than anything she's ever owned!
Dressed in her underwear, Jezabel wanders over to the wardrobe and rifles around through the clothing. She finds a pair of tight brown leather pants, which she pulls on. Then slips the black boots onto her feet.
"Comfortable!" she sings to herself.
As she sings she digs through the clothes. Eventually she discovers a low-cut blue blouse with silver detailing. She pulls it on and rolls up the sleeves to her elbows. She rifles around some more in the wardrobe and pulls out a black velvet vest. With a shrug she pulls it on over her blouse.
Then she heads over to the mirror and brushes her long black hair. The mad tangles prove a challenge. She's still sitting in front of the mirror brushing her hair when Wraith enters her room.
Half of her hair's a knotted mess, and the other half is wavy and relatively dry. As she yanks the absurdly fancy hair brush through he hair she sings a song about dismembering and devouring the delicious servants while they scream.
She smiles at Wraith as she sings and tears at her hair.
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Tatienne frowns as her companions - metaphorically - throw their weight around. Someone that could sneak such powerful magic into Brandescar was no doubt able to snuff their lives out as if a candle. Surely they realized that their benefactor was not one to be trifled with.
That this woman, Tiadora, had an issue with Grumblejack was not surprising. Ogres were inferior creatures, after all, suited to labor and viscous violence, but little else.
For her part, Taty decides, she would play the part of the obsequious guest, thankful for the chance at a second life. That she was thankful, of course, would make the appearances easier.
Giving Tiadora a low curtsy, as she would be expected to give one of higher station in her home country, the relic hunter forces a humbled grin to her lips.
"Many thanks, Tiadora, to you and our benefactor, for our freedom and our lives." The next part makes Tatienne's grin falter, but the relic hunter steels herself for what she has to say next. "Of course, I realize our benefactor didn't free us out of kindness for our situation. I - we - look forward to our meeting, and to know what is expected of us."
--------------------
The bath is luxurious, and over too quickly for Tatienne's taste. For the meeting with their mysterious benefactor, Tatienne chooses a fine deep red gown, floor length but cut low across the chest. The relic hunter leaves her feet bare - in case she has to run - and using a bit of her prisoner's shirt, ties her dagger to her calf, safely hidden under the flowing dress.
Just in case.
As soon as they see their mysterious benefactor, Dante focuses. His years of investigating and his generations of detective work had given him an almost supernatural sense of people... maybe he could learn something about her.
Then, as he is ushered in and to guest quarters, he watches carefully all that happens.
They are led to separate rooms by the strange servants, and given a bath, healing wine (which he smells carefully), hot food and drink (which he tests by having a tiny piece and then waiting to see a reaction) and new clothes. He strips off his tattered uniform and bathes quickly in the water, not wanting to be caught naked in any kind of uncomfortable situation. Then, he dresses simply - gray trousers, leather boots, an undershirt followed by the guard's chain shirt, followed by a gray collared coat. He scratches his head with a bit of confusion before belting on the uncomfortably heavy longsword and waiting for something to happen.
Balam ignores the slaves, instead he keeps a vigilant eye on his benefactor and Tiadora. Anyone who has enough power to command the minds of this many people was not someone to take lightly.
In his luxurious apartment, Balam orders a slave to heal him, and then bathes. Dressed and refreshed, he dons armor and arms himself once more and sets to the meal.
Roll Spell Resistance.
At Wraith's suggestion Grumblejack bathe, the Ogre looks at the tub that is clearly too small for him, then shrugs and says, "Okay." He then picks the tub up and dumps it over his head like a bucket, then picks up the comically small for him scrub brush and starts scrubbing his teeth with it, all the while dripping on the floor.
After you have all bathed, dressed, and eaten, Tiadora comes to collect you, sneering in disapproval as she sees a still damp Grumblejack. She leads you to a single large door, where she says, "Your pet will have to remain outside - he is not to meet the master." Grumblejack mutters under his breath, but as he meets Tiadora's eyes he seems to consider and steps back, saying, "Grumblejack wait for you here. You need help, you call."
Tiadora smirks, then opens the door and leads you into a beautifully appointed office richly decorated with dark wood and sumptuous brocade tapestry. Sitting in a leather high-backed chair is a devilishly handsome fellow who smiles as you enter. "I believe you to be the first to ever escape from Branderscar Prison. Well done! Of course, you had help from the outside," he says, with a wicked smile.
"But enough with the pleasantries. You must be curious why I've helped you. Rest assured this is no random act of altruism. I have brought you here for a reason. My name is Cardinal Adrastus Thorn. I am the last High Priest of Asmodeus left on the island of Talingarde. Once the Prince of Nessus was rightly revered alongside the other great powers. Now, the king of Talingarde has become a puppet to Mitran fanatics who wish to destroy any religion that does not bow to their insipid sun god.
"For their blasphemy, I will see the same people who imprisoned and condemned you suffer. I understand what you went through - I have faced it myself." With that, he pulls down the sleeve of his robe and reveals his own runic 'F' brand. "I am going to burn Talingarde to the ground and from the ashes I will build a new nation that knows its rightful master. I cannot do this alone. I seek servants worthy of our Infernal Father's majesty. Have I found them in you?"
He rises and his eyes flash with Hellfire and divine purpose. "Join me! Serve me well in this holy endeavor and I will raise you up in the eyes of gods and men. I will make you princes of the new Talingarde. Today, swear fealty to me and Asmodeus.
"Put aside forgiveness and I shall give you vengeance. Put aside mercy and be made powerful. Put aside peace and become my harbingers of war. Some of you may be hesitant. I understand - this can feel like quite a momentous step. Perhaps you would prefer the freedom to research and use whatever magic you wish, without others imposing their morals upon you. Join me, and I will give you every opportunity to do so. Perhaps you have seen corruption go unpunished or hidden by the institutions of power in Talingarde. Join me, and you will have the power to expose their lies and treachery. If you worry service to me may be burdensome, I assure you, you will find my hand light, and the rewards plentiful.
"What say you? Will you swear your allegiance, or will you burn with the rest of the blind fools?"
Geborah curtseys low before Thorn.
"Your Eminence...I am honored to meet a ruler whose loyalty to Our Prince of Darkness did not wither before the sanctimony of the Mithrans." Her voice is triumphant. "I shall be your most devoted and capable agent! Set me to my tasks, that I might prove my worth!"
Dante listens to the speech carefully. That he had never even heard of this man is not very surprising. If he has well-known, he would probably have been snuffed out. "Thank you for your influence in breaking us out of prison," he says, "But... who are you?" he asks. "I mean, I know you said your name. But who are you?"
Jezabel strolls down the hall with Wraith and Grumblejack. When Grumblejack's denied entry Jezabel pats him on the arm. She beckons him down to her and whispers in his ear, "Shout if they try to do anything weird to you."
Then she pats him on the shoulder, takes Wraith's arm and heads into the office.
As the pompous man starts to speak, Jezabel can feel the leylines surging through her. She can head the voices, calling to her. Howling in pain, crying in despair, ordering her to listen, tempting her away. She starts to sing a little non-sense song under her breath.
"I seek servants worthy of our Infernal Father's majesty. Have I found them in you?"
She can hear the voices raging through the leylines. Some whisper with honeyed tongues, convincing her to bow and swear fealty, others tempt her to lash out and rebel. There's a distant echo of a voice singing, begging her to repent, but that one's easy to ignore.
Jezabel smiles. "Asmodeus and I get along pretty well, but as I often tell him, I'm not ready to commit to a one-outsider relationship." She cocks her head, as if listening to something, then smiles again, muttering something under her breath to the voices.
"Put aside forgiveness and I shall give you vengeance. Put aside mercy and be made powerful. Put aside peace and become my harbingers of war. Some of you may be hesitant. I understand - this can feel like quite a momentous step. Perhaps you would prefer the freedom to research and use whatever magic you wish, without others imposing their morals upon you. Join me, and I will give you every opportunity to do so. Perhaps you have seen corruption go unpunished or hidden by the institutions of power in Talingarde. Join me, and you will have the power to expose their lies and treachery. If you worry service to me may be burdensome, I assure you, you will find my hand light, and the rewards plentiful.
"What say you? Will you swear your allegiance, or will you burn with the rest of the blind fools?"
"
As Geborah swears unwavering fealty, and Dante asks some pressing questions, Jezabel sings something under her breath involving the word 'hush'.
Eventually, she remarks, "Your words are lovely. Your dreams are delightful. He's proud. But, you know that. I'll work alongside you. I'll assist you in your goals. I'll dance in the blood of Talingarde. But, I'll not swear fealty to you, like some peasant before a king. We've decided I'll be a tool, a loyal weapon but not a servant. Not yet."
Geborah curtseys low before Thorn.
"Your Eminence...I am honored to meet a ruler whose loyalty to Our Prince of Darkness did not wither before the sanctimony of the Mithrans." Her voice is triumphant. "I shall be your most devoted and capable agent! Set me to my tasks, that I might prove my worth!"
"I rather suspected you would, my dear. I assure you, your service to Dark Prince will bring you great power and rewards, and many tasks lie before you."
Dante listens to the speech carefully. That he had never even heard of this man is not very surprising. If he has well-known, he would probably have been snuffed out. "Thank you for your influence in breaking us out of prison," he says, "But... who are you?" he asks. "I mean, I know you said your name. But who are you?"
Cardinal Thorn smiles at Dante's questions. "I told you, I'm the last High Priest of Asmodeus in Talingarde. I'm also the man offering you the chance to right the injustice that sent you to Branderscar. You've seen the Mitran church's hypocrisy firsthand - do you think Bishop Francis is the only one? Surely you would like to see proper justice done?"
Eventually, she remarks, "Your words are lovely. Your dreams are delightful. He's proud. But, you know that. I'll work alongside you. I'll assist you in your goals. I'll dance in the blood of Talingarde. But, I'll not swear fealty to you, like some peasant before a king. We've decided I'll be a tool, a loyal weapon but not a servant. Not yet."
Cardinal Thorn smiles and says, "So long as you obey my commands, do not betray us, and sign the Pact, I have no qualms with that."
The Cardinal looks at the rest of you. "What say you? Will you join me?"
Tatienne sits quietly, appraising their benefactor. If he was truly what he said he was - the last Asmodean High Priest of Talingarde - then it begged a lot of questions. Who canonized Thorn? What happened to the rest of the church? How long has he been laying low? How did he know of, and arrange for, three Asmodeans to be in Brandescar at the same moment, for surely it was too great a coincindence to just happen. Unfortunately, Tatienne's research was confiscated and likely destroyed, and the relic hunter found herself addled, likely due to the imprisonment and escape, and unable to recall much at all about the Church in this heavens-blasted land.
Furthermore, if Thorn really was the last Asmodean High Priest of Talingarde, then he was also undoubtedly powerful. It was best not to ask most everything that came to mind, until Tatienne knew the man better.
Thorn's proposal, however, was certainly intriguing. To overthrow Talingarde and remake it in the image of Cheliax was a musing that literally found the woman licking her lips. She would be, quite simply, remembered for eternity. There was just one small problem to the Cardinal's proposal.
"Contract?" Tatienne says, her voice lilting with doubt.
Jezabel lets out a melodic chuckle. "Oh, I'll sign nothing without reading the fine print, thanks. I've had devils speaking in my ears long enough to know that."
Wraith had been raking his brain for the words he needed. When Jezabel started speaking exactly what he was thinking a bit of relief washed over him.
"Oh Jeza, I could kiss you. You know what I will once were done here." Wraith gives her an eyebrow raise in excitment.
"I'm with Jezabel here, I'm not easily swayed by your words, but being used as a weapon or tool I can handle and since you've said that as long as I follow commands, do not betray you and sign a pact. I think that can be handled once I read the contract to see what loopholes I have to avoid." Look at the rest of the party, he's been impressed with how well they've worked well together so far.
"If we can't come to an arrangement, well I view death as a doorway. I'll be back one way or another, that is my specialty afterall."
Jezabel chuckles, "I biiiiiiite." she replies in a sing-song voice.
Dante sensed that he wasn't going to get very much more out of this man. Frustrating, but it was what it was, and beggars couldn't be chooses. And besides, he was right. Talingarde was built upon a monstrous lie - that Mitra bestowed unassailable purity. Purity was nothing next to truth and justice. "Let's see this... pact, then."
Balam cuts his arm, letting blood drop to the carpet. [B]"I have sworn myself to serve the First in all things. Since I first took my holy orders, I have longed to serve as a champion of His faith. I will sign
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Dante sees Balam cut himself, apparently unprompted, and just mutters under his breath, "F~@#in' weirdo."
"Your Eminence, might I ask you to clarify certain matters for all present...with this contract, I believe the choice you offer us is...well, as Alichino sayeth in his Folio of Infernal Amusements,"
You can choose freedom,
But it'll be the last choice you make.
"I don't want anyone to misunderstand when their life is in the balance."
Geborah has slipped into the manners of a studious girl eager to impress a new teacher.
Cardinal Thorn smiles. "Of course I intend to let you read the contract - I would expect nothing less." He picks up two scrolls from his desk, and a silver athame. "It is traditional to sign in blood, of course - though I see one of you is quite eager to do so. As a gesture of good faith..." Here the Cardinal unrolls both scrolls, then cuts his hand with the athame, blood welling up slightly. He then takes a quill and dips it in the blood, signing his name to it. "I can also assure you that you are not the only ones to have signed the Pact of Thorns. There are others. Please sign both copies - you will get to keep one, and I the other."
Behold on this day, Erastus 26, 4718, in the eighth age of this world a perpetual Compact is made between Cardinal Adrastus Thorn (hereafter the Master) and those who would be bound to him as his acolytes (hereafter the Bound). Both the Master and the Bound shall hold fast and true to this Compact through all trial and tribulation. By blood and soul the Bound commit to the Compact and swear that it shall never be undone.
The Bound shall know and understand the Four Loyalties.
The First Loyalty is to their patron and god – mighty Asmodeus, first among the fallen, prince of the nine hells, our father below. They shall do all that can be done to further his worship and his glory.
The Second Loyalty is to their master – He who is called the Cardinal Adrastus Thorn, High Priest of Asmodeus in Talingarde. They shall do the Master no harm and obey his every commandment as long as those commandments do not clash with their First Loyalty.
The Third Loyalty is to their companions – the other Bound who serve alongside them. The Bound shall deal with each other fairly and honorably as long as doing so does not clash with their first or second loyalties. All treasure, wealth and reward garnered in their exploits will be equally shared with all of the Bound who aided in its acquisition.
The Fourth Loyalty is to themselves – for Asmodeus is the Lord of Ambition and all who serve him should strive to become great and powerful in his service as long as doing so does not clash with their first, second or third loyalties. By their weakness, ye shall know the
unworthy.
The Bound swear that they cleave to and uphold the Four Loyalties even in the face of death and damnation. The Master swears that as long as the Four Loyalties are upheld, he shall reward the Bound as they deserve
for their deeds.
Thus it is written, and thus it shall be.
We being of sound mind and free will do so swear and let they who violates this Compact know all the wrath of Hell unending.
Signed,
Adrastus Thorn