Yes, let's move onto asking questions of others in this underground lair. Who do we think is the next best person to interigate? I am leaning towards Desmond Kote.
And because Bronin leans to that decision, he expects others to join him as he makes his way toward the Cathedral to the north of the complex.
Yes, he just asked everyone's opinion on where to go next, but was he really expecting others to have differing opinions - of course not.
Leaving the nosferatu prisoner to stew in his thoughts, you continue on to try and locate one Desmond Kote. Heading through more rooms and tunnels, you come to an underground cathedral.
A small shrine stands in the middle of this large chamber, centered on a statue of a horned man with fangs and bat wings holding a wickedly spiked flail in one hand. Beyond the shrine sit two long tables with elaborately carved darkwood chairs.
This place is dedicated to the infernal duek Zaebos, the Lord of arrogance, nobility, and perversion. A powerful devil lord.
You stride into the cathedral and see a black-haired vampire in armour leading two of the nobles in prayer. The prayer completes as you step into the room and the vampires turn to you, bearing their teeth before assuming a more peaceful posture as the signet ring is flashed. The nobles poof into bats, fluttering out and squeaking wildly while the armored vampire strides towards you boldly.
"Creatures of Luvick, and Quinley who I have not seen in a while yet. What do you mortals want in this profane house of the Prince of Broken Glass?"
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Know (Religion)
"Oh dearie, the infernal Duke Zaebos, the Lord of arrogance, nobility, and perversion. What a pompous ass he is," Wren birdsplains to the party, her adoring fans who sup at the font of her wisdom.
She will wait for others to go first, adding her thoughts as needed.
"We be lookin' fer th' vampire killer, an' were wonderin' if'n ye know anythin' tha' migh' help us t' track him, her, or it down an' kill i'. Now, some be sayin' tha' Luvick ain't exactly been too careful t' listen t' th' words o' those tha' might know some tidbits o' info, seein' as he be havin' 'is own mind made up already. we be thinkin' tha' ye may be havin' some words t' say on th' matter. "
Luvick, being of high station, has seen fit to bring in cats to catch a mouse. It's obvious that there's a skilled and focused killer at work. We have even seen the end results of his handy-work just yesterday. 4 "remains" left on a rooftop.
One killer -even greatly accomplished- would be hard pressed to take out 4 vampires without drawing far more notice needs inside help.
We are looking for the small clues that point us toward the killer.
Anything you might know - like weapons you have heard used, connections between all the victims, neighborhoods where the ambushes have happened.
We come here looking for the similarities and that will paint a bigger picture.
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"Lord of perversion?" Elena blushes as she stares in awe at the statue. Seeing the armored vampire Elena snaps out of it. "You have all suffered from this killer haven't you?" She frowns sympathetically. "Is that why you hide in the sewers?"
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"You have all suffered from this killer haven't you? Is that why you hide in the sewers?"
Wren begins coughing, as if she is choking on a feather.
The vampire who is obviously Desmonde waves off the rest of you as if brushing away insects. He stalks directly up to Wren, staring the snaggle-toothed elf in her weird, weird face.
"You there, elf. You speak of the Princes of Hell with some authority. I'll speak with you about these murders should you be worthy of standing in such a place. Speak to me of Hell's hierarchy, recite what you know. Impress me."
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"Dinnae be thinkin' tha' th' hierarchy o' Hell be some dark, hidden secre'. Everyone be knowin' tha' Asmodeus be creatin' devils, bu' tha' 'e be too incompetent t' be givin' 'em all th' same power. So's some be weak, an' some be strong, an' like all evil creatures th' weak are a' th' mercy o' th' strong. As an infernal dukey, Zaebos'd likely be a bit more powerful than yer standard greater devil, mebbe like a local ruler or demigod o' their kind. Last I be hearin', Zaebos was like an indolent lordling, fillin' 'is time wit' indulgence an' sloth, no' particularly caring t' do anythin' worthwhile wit' 'is time. 'E be often pictured as mountin' a crocodile, choose yer definition o' tha' word as ye will."
Sounds like our little group knows the hierarchy of Hell. obviously with out our perceptions built in, but the chain of command is the chain of command.
Wren pauses what was going to be an absolute riot of a speech about the inner workings of Hell when Whiskeyjack begins to explain on his own. She nods and coos and agrees with W'jack and when he is finished, she expands on things.
"I think my least favorite layer of Hell is Cocytus, where the damned watch the feasting of devils from cages of ice afloat glaciers and frozen oceans and where Baalzebul holds dominion," Wren begins to sermon. "Reminds me of this one cold visit to Irrisen back when witches...blahblahblah...were hip at the time...blahblahblah...interested in ensorcelling some love strumpets...blahblahblah...so cold though...blahblahblah...never seen shrinkage this badly...blahblahblah...which is why the those who betrayed others or were destructively ambitious in life are sent there. Their punishment is to be frozen into the solid ice of the glaciers...blahblahblah...which brings back to the witches...blahblahblah...never fun getting banged...blahblahblah...and the tattoos! Never seen one that far up their...blahblahblah...and then I made it home and used the peas to make a delicious soup." Wren looks around to see if she has explained things enough and is willing to go on and on if more people want to hear her stories.
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Lena doesn't know who this devil god thing is, but a devil is a devil, so to speak. She smirks as the vampire assumes the crazy bird elf is in charge. She nudges Whiskeyjack
This world has many issues. But sometimes it's nice to watch something nasty be flummoxed. she whispers.
Not wanting the fun to stop she says, loudly please Wren, tell the nice vampire more.
She starts wriggling her fingers, and a small flame dances as she does so
Adder listens as Wren and Whiskey twitter on about hell, leaning towards Lena.
"I do not know any of this."
Desmond folds his arms, nodding slowly. "Word has already reached us of your defeat of Merrick and several spawn, and now you come forth with the understanding appropriate for the Lords of Hell. Good, you are inarticulate but learned and I think we can work together. Follow me."
He turns on heel and heads over to a small chest which he opens, revealing several stakes. "I do not know too much for my own duties have prevented me from unleashing my full power on this matter. However, I have been collecting the stakes to see if there are similarities."
Quickly, he tosses stakes into the hands of Bronin and Lena. "You will see that the stakes are of uniform length and appear to follow a curve with a bulge at the top. These are furniture legs - all of them."
Bronin stares at the stakes.
We come here looking for the similarities
.
Yes, Yes. The fact that these are all furniture legs and all fairly identical does actually give us more to go on.
Elena was a bit scared that her companions knew so much about Hell and it's denizens. She was not as well versed as devils were a thing of nightmares and should stay that way.
Elena digs through her pack and pulls out the stake she had ran back to her room with from the murder scene. "I found this near our Inn. We heard a scream and when I got outside someone lost their head and this stake was in them. If a stake does the job then why was his head torn from his body?" Elena hands the stake to Desmond for inspection.
Desmond takes the stake, turning it over in his hands. "It matches the others, good." He looks at Elena, and begins to speak like a lecturer. "My kin are not so easily disposed of young lady for we have regenerative capabilities. To slay a vampire, you may stake us through the heart which will end what unlife we have... but we can come back. Remove the stake, or simply let it crumble to rot a thousand years later and one of us shall return. The body..." He slams a hand into his plated chest. "Is inert but the essence lives on here." He taps his head. "So then, after staking the vampire, you must cut off its head. The head must then be anointed with holy water. In this way can a vampire be slain permanently."
He looks at all of you. "Your more learned companions already know this of course. The hated sun is our greatest foe - exposure to sunlight will kill even the greatest of our kind. This killer then not only stakes his or her victims, but then removes the head and leaves the body in the sun. Insurance - only a true master vampire slayer would be so utterly thorough leaving nothing to chance."
He pushes over the box of stakes. "You are free to inspect these as you wish, but leave me. I have no more to tell you. Go speak with the others."
Wren listens intently to Desmond, absorbing his words and meanings and then drawing another 100 conclusions and suppositions based on that. It’s a facet of her keen bird brain, a cognitive storehouse of facts and data that she is constantly filling.
She floats over to examine the stakes.
Know (Local) stakes and/or any master vampire hunters in the area?
The stakes appear to be from furniture and all appear to be fairly similar. So someone would have to have access to a lot of similar or identical furniture or its constituent parts. There are any number of places in Caliphas that coudl have a lot of similar furniture from areas outfitted to a theme, to a furniture store or maker.
As for master vampire hunters, there has been no public knowledge of vampires in Caliphas for a while now, and although she can think of some names, none of them would plausibly be in this part of the world right now.
Adder scratches his head.
"Master vampire slayers do not use grandmother's stools for stakes."
"Any large furniture places near all the spots that vampires have been killed?" Elena tries to offer a suggestion.
I think we are on the right path. Of course that path is above ground. Let's pin a note to this one, and move onto interviewing others down here in the dark.
Let me see...who is next...
"I recommend you speak with Lady Evegenya, who knew many of the victims. Desmond Kote [b]*check* in the cathedral to the north may have some insight. If you wish to see the evidence we have gathered so far, Radvir Giovanni in his store to the east. Ramoska Arkminos *check* is being held in the old pump room, also to the east. Maybe you can get more out of him than we have."[/b]
Wren checks off another from her mental list of leads, hoping that the next two are better than the first two.
”Let us see to Lady Evegenya. She knew many of the victims and might be able to tie the victims together for us. Not literally, of course. We’d want an embalmer or flesh golem creator that. But helping us see what the victims had in common, you see?” Wren continues to explain things.
Wren will help ask for directions to find Lady Evegenya.
Bidding the Inquisitor farewell to go worship his weird Devil Lord, you make your way through more tunnels towards Lady Evgenya's salon. The sound of music draws you near, and you step into a very fancy party.
The celebratory strains of lutes and harpsichords fill the air in
this well-appointed, if ostentatious, chamber. Several fgures
dressed in finery befitting nobles of Ustalav’s ancient past
dance on a parquet floor.
Reading the room, it becomes clear a single figure is at the centre of it - the woman you saw distraught in the bar yesterday. She dances skillfully in the centre of the room with a man who seems strangely rapt with her and as you step in bearing Luvick's ring, she spins away from her partner. She claps her hands twice and some onlookers fill the dancer floor. She sashays towards you.
"Well, you do look familiar don't you? In the underground, with Luvkc's signet none the less." Her eyes alight on Bronin and she grins slyly. "I am Lady Evengya Zunaida and I take great pleasure in welcoming you to my salon."
Elena smiles as she is enraptured by the dance. "Wow, this is amazing. Just wish we could stay and watch more. We are here to find out more about all of the murders that have been happening. Luvkc mentioned you knew each of the victims?"
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Lena stares. Elena's ability to move into a dangerous situation without blinking was stunning. Either she was dangerously oblivious to what she was doing, or she was subtle to an awesome degree. Her eyes flick to the mad bird elf. What would she do? No way to know really.
Anyway...
Yes. If you could help it would be...convenient. For everyone
Yeesh! All nobles were generally parasites, but this one...Best be polite.
sorry for the chicken. And the smelly elf
Wren whistles and clucks with appreciation for the pomp and fance of the party they are interrupting.
"Oh, what is the occasion? I do love fancy parties," Wren preens her feathered armor, trying to get into the occasion.
Her eyes still on Bronin, she nods slightly as she responds to the group. "There is always an occasion for a dance, my dear. If you are to be immortal, may as well live the best unlife you can. As for the deaths... why yes. It's been quite terrible - I have some ideas. Perhaps this dashing man would be interested in a dance and we could talk it over?"
Bronin bows deeply, and offers his hand to the vampire socialite.
Ah, the organizer of such elaborate balls rarely gets an opportunity to enjoy the limelight themselves. It is a burden of the powerful to have to entertain at legendary levels- so few understand the hard work a party like this entails. So much would go wrong without your oversight.
If it pleases you, may I take you to the center of the floor and let the spotlight shine on the one most worthy this evening.
Bronin puts on the charm, and the opportunity for a little fun. He is not an accomplished dancer, but he knows the basics enough to allow her to freestyle and thus make them both look... passable.
He enjoys his 10 minutes on the dance floor, and politely brings the lady back to the group once the song concludes. Bowing again, and releasing her hand in a seductive way.
Adder watches the dance but knows nothing of it.
If it's more Napoleon Dynamite... maybe Bronin needs Whiskeyjack to come in and save him.
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Bronin although not the kind of dancer she was hoping for knows his etiquette enough to let her lead-him-while-he's-apparently-leading and doesn't make an ass of himself. Taking the only slightly cold vampire by the waist, they spin out onto the dance floor.
She begins speaking as they dance.
"Many of my dear, dear friends have fallen victim to this murderer. However... I've noticed something."
She gracefully moves around Bronin as he holds his hands up 'twirling' her. "All the victims have large numbers of enslaved spawn. I myself am a likely target if my theory holds true."
She gestures gaily to the room full of happy dancers. "My own court is substantial. But more strangely, the spawn would normally be freed by the death of their master but the spawn instead are... peculiar. Behaving as if they have a new master but it is impossible to tell."
Bronin dips the vampire lady over his knee. "And finally..." She rights herself to applause and rejoins the rest of the group.
"Because you have some base manners - the vampires who have gone missing last hunted in Restoration Park. We avoid that place now for obvious reasons."
She looks to you pleadingly. "I have lost brothers and sisters alike - our numbers are few and growing fewer. Please, help us - we are calcified into inaction - you do the same thing for a thousand years it's somewhat hard to change course. I will answer anything else you need to know."
As the dancing begins, Wren joins in as best she can with whomever will dance with her. She is delighted to join in, cooing with joy and mirth. She often soars and skates in the air, her feet buoyed by overland flight.
She dances the noble dance of her people.
* * *
Wren looks at Lena, the local.
”What do you know of Restoration Park?”
Know (Local)
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Seeing Wren's gyrations, Elena's chicken joins Wren on the dance floor.
The medallion of the Whispering Way sometimes swaying like a pendulum -back and forth. Sometimes during the dance with Wren, the medallion pops straight forward from it's chest as it clucks it's way through the
song.
Mystically, and maybe even magically, the crazy mixture of part bird person - full bird animal- Two Left Footed Human male- and ballerina caliber vampire is a warm novelty to the crowd. Culminating into an applause for Lady Evgenya as she regains her footing from the ceremonial dip.
Potpie bops and weaves across the floor like some sort of one year old learning to walk. While the vampire and spawn seem ever graceful, their group certainly was not. Elena was a bit used to some dangerous interaction as she worked the Inn floor, serving food, avoiding the dangerous men who had a few too many and making dangerous advancements.
"You think we can lure him out there?" Elena asks. "Maybe you or your spawn could help us a bit in the park to draw the killer out from hiding?" She points to the group. "They can keep you safe. i have seen it."
She laughs with delight as Wren and the chicken put on a little show. "I do say that elf is insane, but I haven't seen something this fun in years. Now then..." She looks over Elena critically. "Hm, you have potential. A little bit of time and money and you could be cultured... what was that? Yes that's splendid. I could disguise one of my spawn and lend them to you as bait. Perhaps you could catch the killer in the act then. What a splendid idea!"
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Elena bears a beaming smile as she had a good idea and genuinely seemed helpful among this group of burly adventurers. "Yay!" She claps her hands together briefly. "Should we do it tonight?"
"Well, i' be as good a plan as any other we be havin' an' we ain't gettin' any younger. Le's do i' an' be done wit' this farce."
Wren nods, still bobbing her head along with whatever music might be playing (or music in her head).
She is ready to go tonight, as needed.
Wren knows full well that Restoration Park is where they entered the Vampire Underground to begin with. The greenhouse was tended by Merrick until you put her in her coffin for a while, although a quick question about that reveals that Merrick generally just ignores everyone unless they enter her greenhouse.
Wren chirps around.
"Should we go speak with Radvir Giovanni? His store is to the east, I believe. I might like to see what they have for sale. I could use a new wand or some nice new feathers, if they have any," Wren offers.
I'd like to speak with Radvir. The vampires down here are revealing everything to a man of noble class. They are basically eating out of my hand.
Elena smiles. "We'll meet you tonight in the park once we are done speaking with Radvir." She seems very content with her plan, though she truly doesn't recognize the exact danger she is in.
You leave Evgenya to dance with her spawn while you make your way over to the tailor shop. It's a short distance through the tunnels until finally you see a well-appointed room with a sign showing a needle and thread. Within, a blonde vampire stands, making alterations to a glorious ancient set of clothes. He glances over to you, and does a double-take, his eyes going wide. He stares at Lena wide-eyed, saying nothing.
You immediately recognize this man, having failed to remember his name previously. Radvir Giovanni was the reclusive patriarch of the family you were a "servant" to. A man you almost never saw, and for now obvious reasons never saw outside of the home. A master tailor and possibly the best in this part of the world - at least according to the family. When you accidentally set his tailor shop on fire it was the last straw and you were whisked away by some friendly servants and thrown out onto the streets to escape his wrath.