"The plaque says "Micheaux the Magnificent, Future Grand Prince of Taldor, Father of Stavian, Slept on these Premises on 5 Lamashan in the Year 4497. May Divine Providence Reward Him as He Deserves.", dated 19 Lamashan 4497. That is the same year that Cadimus and Lucretia Adella vanished, according to Salmindrade. Busy year in these parts, apparently." The scorpion on Gabriel's shoulder starts clicking and clacking away at this, distracting Gabriel's attention for a moment, before he continues "It was also the year that Stavian I was born. Fascinating history there."
Gabriel moves on from the plaque, looking around the room. "Did Salmindrade tell any of you what this Dellum fellow looks like? Or should we just grab a table and let him find us?"
"We can always ask the Inkeep. He probably knows how to find him. "
Rasil nods when he hears about the plaque.
After the bit about Dellum, Rasil tilts his head again, listening for something.
"I'm almost impressed, farm-boy." He says before reaching into the shadow behind the door, and pulling Yura out by the collar. The assassin sighs, "If you're going to be here, make yourself useful. Find the innkeeper." He drops the boy's collar, and he scampers off. Rasil smells his way to the bar, and takes a stool. Throwing a small bag of coin on the table, he says, "Something old and brown."
Yura approaches a wench and asks, "Excuse me, dear, might you point me in de direction of de innkeeper?"
But upon hearing her serious explanation says, "Hm. I wouldn't think those in our line of work would need such a reminder."
Mahb tsks a time or two. "Our line of work? What line of work do you mean?"
Mahb's scorn is apparent. "Micheaux 'the Magnificent', 'Grand Prince', Stavian I, Beldam II, 'Sainted Mothers', plaques and monuments... Bah." She lightly elbows the blind man. "This is why seekers after immortality should carry skulls, to counterpoint their folly."
Rasil grunts in indignation when asked what line of work he means, as if she's in the business of saving lives.
"I'm personally in the habit of introducing such characters as need it to their mortality. Perhaps if they were a bit more aware, I wouldn't have to do so." He waves for her to join him at the bar, staring off into the distance.
Mahb shuffles over to the bar, scaring a patron away from the stool she prefers with a sustained hard look. She settles in the seat happily... and waits to see if the barman is a fool or wise enough to treat her with a modicum of respect. It had been awhile since the hag had been in a tavern and - truth be told - it hadn't ended well last time.
Duke Vars can clearly be seen to be avoiding the bar. The memories of how he used to enjoy what he no longer can enjoy come hard.
He just waits for the Inkeep to show up.
"You'd think if the Dellum fellow wanted our help, he'd be waiting attentively for us. He's not doing me a favor after all. "
A serving girl points Yura in the direction of the surly man behind the counter, the same one you are gravitating towards.
The man, after filling a cup with a pungent herb liquor and handing it over to Rasil, speaks to you.
"Are you looking for Master Dellum, I heard? 'e's upstairs, first room on the right. D'ya want something to eat or drink?"
"I might get some food after our talk. We'll be back down shortly. " the Duke replies to the Inn and bar keeper before he heads upstairs to the indicated room.
Having just caught up to everyone at the bar, hobbling slowly on his cane, he just hears the barkeep's response. Grunting and shaking his head in response, he just keeps on walking toward the stairs.
The kayal throws back his drink, grabs Yura's shoulder and follows his lead up the stairs, keeping an ear out for any money what needs relieving from pockets.
Mahb sighs, slides off the seat, and follows the rest up the stairs.
In the room, a rather short man with short, dark hair, an expensive coat and a smug look on his face is waiting for you. As you enter, he raises to shake your hands. "Ah, you must be Madam Rellihara's team, pleased to meet you all. I believe that you have already been filled in by her, so I'll try to be short."
While going through my late father's possessions, I found a rather unusual item. This one."
He produces a length of white marble from his table.
"It's a funerary baton, Taldane noble families bury their dead with one of these as a mark of power. As you can see, it bears the medusa sigil- the mark of the damnata House Adella. It seems to be the only physical item linked with the House, since most mentions of it were scratched away when the damnatio was proclaimed."
"I've been inquiring into the Adella, searching evidence that had escaped erasure, and I've come to suspect that they were framed. Such a string of misfortune as fell on the family was too quick, too sudden and too complete to be random chance. I believe that powerful enemies conspired to bring them down."
"However, I don't have proof, except what might be found in the necropolis, and I don't dare brave it. However, I've managed to find it-" he untwists the cap of the baton, revealing a secret compartment from which he grabs a scroll of parchment "thanks to this sort of enigma. The "Slumbering Cat" was likely a reference to this inn, which is older than he looks, and I explored from here until I found it. Then I called Madam Rellihara."
He hands the baton, the scroll and a map to you. "That's pretty much all I know. Do you have any questions?"
Mahb reads the parchment, summing her opinion drily. "Cheery."
"So you just want us to go in there and poke around in the hope we find something that helps you? We can keep any of the treasure interred? "
"Precisely. Especially if you found anything about Cadimus and Lucretia, the last offspring of the family."
"About the treasures you may find, you can take them as part of the payment, however I have to insist that you allow me, on your return, to make you an offer for any item bearing the Adella signet. Especially if you could find Infensus Mucro, Bartolomae Adella's legendary sword. I'll pay generously for such items."
"That almost seems more than fair since if you are the last descendent of the family, by rights the stuff should be yours. Why are you being so generous?"
Rasil's eyebrow raises when Master Dellum says, "While going through my late father's possessions..." When he finishes, the assassin speaks, "Sounds like quite the adventure, but I'm not in the habit of working for liars. How exactly did you come into possession of the funerary baton? The truth this time, if you please."
"To be bluntly honest, because I have no idea what you may find. There may be cursed items, things I have no use for, and perhaps something that might earn me a damnatio as well. Not to mention that Madam Rellihara's services are quite expensive. Considering the amount of money that the Ad- my family burned, I chose to get a sizeable discount on her fees, rather than gambling on the riches of a forgotten necropolis. And most of all, the information you may extract from there would be worth more than any treasure that's likely to be there."
At Rasil's question, Dellum bites his lower lip. "Well, let's say that it may not have been among my father's effects, more of an acquisition from a bankruptcy. But the person I acquired it from surely had no claim to the Adella either."
Mahb makes no comment, save to read the contents of the scroll for the blind man.
Satisfied with the man's answer, Rasil turns his attention to the scrolls words, listening intently.
Mahb finishes her recitation with a cough. "Did you stop at the 'medusa's iron embrace' or did you make it to the 'wall that hides its face'?"
"The "Iron Embrace", at least I think. There are large medusa heads carved into the outer walls, and no apparent way in, but I didn't get too close."
"Farm-boy, read the map. How long is the journey from here?"
Yura studies the map intently...
Gabriel, having stayed relatively quiet through most of Dellum's spiel, let's out a little snort when he talks about the "acquisition" of the baton. "Let me see that thing" he says to whomever is holding the baton, and without waiting for a response causes it to come flying out of their grasp and over to him.
He grabs the baton, examines it for a minute, and then begins pointing it at Dellum. "Look, lad, I don't give a rat's ass how you came to acquire this stick of yours, or what your rights are to it. You do what you want, and I'll fulfill my end of the bargain in this tomb. I don't like being lied to, though, because I don't know if that will come back to bite me in the ass. If there is someone else who even might think they have a claim to this thing, that might cause problems for us in trying to get your proof, and might cause danger to us, so it's in all our best interests to have the truth of it. So do me a favor, and stop wasting our time, and give up the real and true story of how you came by this information so we can get on with our jobs." As he goes through this speech, he looks visibly irritated, and getting more worked up as he goes. The movement of his skin increases, almost shimmering, and the scorpion still sitting on his shoulder takes off and starts hovering nearby instead.
The Duke had accepted the man's answer, though Gabe's showing of irritation makes him step back a bit.
He then fixes his glance on the merchant to see how he reacts.
Dellum raises his hands in surrender.
"Alright, alright, you got me. Listen, it's political. I have reliable sources that the Adella family is tied to some kind of intrigue. A cover-up, blackmail material, you name it."
"I tracked down the baton knowing full well what it was, and I am sure that there is no one at all who can lay claim to it. Unless, of course, you find traces of a descendant, and that would be precious information as well. If you know how politics are, the plans within plans within plans, you can understand why I'm trying to keep my researches as secret as possible."
You can tell that he is not speaking lies.
"Yeah, court intrigues are a dime a dozen in Taldor. "
turning to the rest of the duffers "Let's just get up there and start the damn job before I throw my back out or something. "
With the honest reply, Gabriel settles back down. "Politics. Aye, I know how it is, and I'll continue to ignore it if it ignores me. As I said, I don't care what games you play, so long as you don't play them with me." As he settles back down, his skin returns to it's previous only-somewhat-unsettling state, and his scorpion returns to his shoulder.
At Vars' suggestion, he nods. "Best get a move on; sooner out, sooner done." Turning back toward Dellum, he adds "Unless there is anything else we need to know?"
Rasil's expression doesn't change. Politics has been his bead and butter for nearly a century. Frankly, he's surprised he didn't smell it from the bar.
The assassin stands, turns in the general direction of Yura and does a stirring motion with his finger. Yura turns, offering his would-be mastery a shoulder as he leads the old kayal down the stairs on their way out.
Mahb studies her colleagues as they walk out. Her words to their 'client' are almost an afterthought, "It seems we're agreed. Good day." She too leaves.
From the map, you can easily determine the road towards the necropolis. It will take at least two days on foot, but you can reach it at sundown using Rasil's hippogriff or Mahb's tumbril.
In case you don't feel like sharing, the Inn has horses.
The duke will borrow a horse and ride to the necropolis.
The hag hitches a thumb behind her as she clambers heavily onto the driver-board and sets her cane, "There's room in the back, if ya want. Mind you, there's a cauldron in the hay somewhere."
She growls, "Gee-YUP!" The tongues of the tumbril rise - an unseen draft animal rising into it's yoke.
She clucks and the tumbril starts rolling forward, wheels clattering.
After a couple hours of silent travel, the crone begins to hum to herself. Her old vocal cords crack on a high note which leads to a coughing fit. She grumps, "Enough of that! Sing me something cheery."
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The skull, which has done no more than periodically rattle against the impaling break lever, slowly turns to regard the old woman. Its voice is wispy and sepulchral, "'Cheery' by your definition is always a challenge, O' Decrepit One." The decaying jaw snaps shut as it considers the request.
A moment later the jaw stretches wide and twangy music and a voice very different from the previous one seems to resonate from the skull.
"Good, I was hoping you weren't expect the geriatric choir to break into song. "
Mahb chuckles, "That might be amusing, but not entertaining."
The rough-feathered raven slowly begins to bob in time with the music.
Gabriel will nod to Mahb in thanks, and head toward her cart. "Don't care much for horses - never used to have to ride one, in my younger years, was able to keep up just fine. Slower than I used to be."
He climbs into the back, and is momentarily blocked by the cauldron. "Excuse me" he says to it, and the cauldron actually shifts itself over and out of his way. "Much better, thanks."
Gabriel smiles faintly as the skull begins to play the music; he begins to nod to the beat as well. "Fine music, that. Talented skull you have there."
Rasil steps in Akumu's general direction, the midnight black griff adjusts position in a practiced motion as Rasil leaps to saddle him. "See you in two days, farm-boy!" The assassin takes off, following the sound of Mahb's quick vehicle...and the singing...to make sure he's going the right way.
"But mas-" Yura looks up at the assassin on his mount, quickly becoming a black smudge in the sky, "ter..." he sighs.
The farm boy follows the duke around to the stables, and borrows a horse for himself as well. He keeps pace with the nobleman, but remains quiet, thinking that like his master, the duke more than likely prefers silence.
"Fine music, that. Talented skull you have there."
Mahb glances over her shoulder at Gabriel. "This's Bob. Good company - mostly."
The music fades out as the skull speaks again. "I'm excellent company. YOU are bearable - mostly." The skull turns its empty sockets on the kineticist. "It's nice to meet you. Perhaps you might enjoy Nina Simone."
A different sort of music emerges from the skull.
The musical journey goes smoothly as a bumpy countryside road ride can go, except for Rasil, flying high in the sky. As you approach the World's Edge Mountains, vegetations becomes more and more sparse, and a chilly evening breeze blows, stiffening your neck. As the sun starts to set, you reach the hidden dale that Dellum marked on the map. In the dale, you can see a circle of 15-foot high gray stone walls, with wider sections resembling watchtowers. From Rasil's hippogriff's bird's eye view, the interior appears to be in ruins.
There are vines crawling across the walls, and equally spaced between the watchtowers are large iron discs sporting exquisitely crafted medusa heads in high relief, ten feet in diameter. The mouth of the medusa shows a circular hole about an inch and a half in diameter.
The ground around the necropolis is even, devoid of trees and brushes, and you can make out the remains of a long-abandoned road.
The duke will ride around looking for a door.
Mahb halts the tumbril and slides from the driver's board, eyeing the site. "Bob, you're in charge; You know what to do. Pye, come with me."