_____________________________
A few moments after the bloodied young girl enters the room, something else entirely emerges through the doorway from behind her. At first it looks like a patch of moving shadow, but then something far more animalistic becomes visible. Four and a half feet at the shoulder and leonine in build, its head is a slick, nearly featureless protrusions on a long neck with jaws like the bladed steel of a beartrap. Six, beady black eyes stare out at the room, fire reflected in them and across the tarry ichor that coats its oddly biomechanical body, where muscle, flesh and sinew merges with pitted metal.
It growls, a rattling and hollow growl like a steel drum full of wire cables. Then, just as the beast gets within striking range of the girl, its brings its head over her shoulder and brushes its jaws against her cheek. Urging Drisella out of her fugue state, the creature steps fully into the room, lashing tail flicking back and forth like a bladed snake behind it.
"" Its voice is low and whispery against her cheek, a susurrus of words like silk over barbed wire.
"Do you feel the desperation?"
_____
Round 3, Init 16 Con't
Wiping the dribble of potion from his chin, Kaynen revels in the brief sensation of cold as his wounds mend, and the heat on his cheeks from the untended fire.
Rolling his eyes, he looks about the other Forsaken who aren't busy consuming the warden - Kergh, Ethaniel, Barnabas, Grumblejack - and Ariana and not-so-subtly hints about the danger of the fire remaining unchecked.
"Hrr-hrmm... The fire?"
The half-elf allows his eyes to meet with the young girl's as he shakes his head, arching an eyebrow and wondering if he was so near death that he would dream while awake.
The half-elf smiles, it wouldn't be his first imaginary audience for a cold-blooded murder.
"Why hello, my dear."
Kaynen digs around in his pockets, producing a small dog-treat that he liberated from the barracks earlier and clears his voice to intone the Infernal tongue.
"Zzerym har ynizzit?"
"Would doggie like a cookie?"
Ethaniel turns his attention to the fire that has started to spread in the library. Quickly taking off his guard's cloak, he uses it to try to put out the flames before it is too late. He seems to be doing quite well at his task, though for a moment it appears as if he is danger of getting burnt along with the books. Still, he manages to avoid it, whether through skill or luck nobody can tell. Absorbed as he is in his attempt, he seemingly fails to take any notice of neither the girl nor the strange creature that accompanies her.
Perhaps owing some part of his resistance to the Wardens spell due to his lack of intelligence Grumblejack comes out of his stupor. Blinking in awareness he looks on as Mikhail savages the warden while the others tend to their wounds. Watching as Ethaniel grabs his cloak and begins to put out the flames, the Ogre scratches his head in confusion.
Grumblejack! Kergh shouts, pointing at the bookcase. Help Ethaniel! With a savage grin, Grumblejack laughs. Ok, you gots ut! The ogre bellows, throwing his shoulder into the shelf causing the shelf to creak and groan before collapsing. As the books fall to the floor, Grumblejack proceeds to stomp on the pile flaming prison records. Suddenly his laugher turns to roars of pain as the flame singes his feet before becoming extinguished.
_____________________________
With the fire finally extinguished and the warden defeated, if not dead, Ethaniel finds he can relax a little, at least as much as it is permitted considering the circumstances, not to mention the new arrivals. Keeping his eyes on the girl and her 'companion', the magus moves to retrieve his dagger from where it lay on the floor.
"And you are?" He asks simply, perhaps a little wearily, as he addresses the strange pair. Seeing as how they do not appear hostile, however, Ethaniel starts to move about, getting a better look of the library they find themselves in. Despite looking preoccupied with the various tomes surrounding the group, his thoughts linger on what he can only call a vision of the sword he seeks, his sword, from only minutes ago, before they entered the tower. 'Could it be close by after all?'
Kergh goes over to bandage the foot of the ogre. "Nasty burn that."
The guard shape starts to fade and dissolve as the spell wears off. Gradually the priest folds and bends as his lovely limbs blend into that misbegotten hump and savage face. He drips and drools happily now that his body can relax make into "normality".
Unfortunately that face of Kherg does not make for a pleasant welcome for Drisella. "Hello."
The invigorating surge of unholy vitality coursing through his veins snaps Oswald awake with a jolt as his bubbling flesh begins to slowly slough off and reveal fresh un-singed skin below. The mad doctor's cracked lips part in a angry yowl before cutting off as his glazed eyes take in what has changed since last he was conscious. The Warden, neck ravaged from Mikhail's tender embrace, is dead which fills the madman with jubilation. However, the joy is soon crushed as realization that the key-master of their tomb did not impart knowledge of where he had secreted Oswald's daughter before succumbing to the Lady of Bones call, "No, no, no! He didn't tell me where she was! Why didn't the fool tell me where she was? ROSALINE?! Are you about, little one?"
Oswald stands with a hiss when his flesh, still burnt in spots, sends a nasty sting down his spine as muscles stretch and compress underneath it. He reaches up to rip the tunic off his torso as the garment, like most of his attire, is now all but falling apart into ashy flakes. The mad doctor scratches a healing portion of his scalp, pulling off a large strip of dead skin as tiny stubble and pink skin peek out from atop his head in what looks like an ancient wild forest that has undergone a forest fire. As he finally gets his barings, Oswald turns to Kergh and points at the Warden, "Did he say where she was being kept before the end?"
Not waiting for an answer, Oswald starts to furiously search about the room. It takes a full minute before he even notices the new arrival. The first sight of her out of the corner of his eye grabs Oswald's attention. He blinks several times to clear his eyes as he starts to step toward her direction, "Rosaline? Is that you, daughter? Rosaline, did the bad man hurt you? It's alright, daddy is here now." His forward progression toward her is suddenly drawn to a halt as the four-legged nightmare-given-life's growl freezes his leg muscles in place. Oswald reaches up, rubbing soot and dirt rimmed eyelids clear before looking at the girl again, "No, not Rosaline. Too old. You look like her alittle though. Did you know my daughter? Did the bastard keep a host of young girls to satisfy his sick pleasures?" The madman grows angrier as he talks, stalking back toward the Warden's body to give it several sharp kicks in the face before he starts for the stairs leading up, "You shall not keep me from her much longer, you vile Mitra-lover!"
Tensing while she watches the ogre stamp out the fire, Drisella remains silent as she stands within Walker's clawed reach. No answer is afforded to Ethaniel, and instead she looks to the creature behind her for guidance. It nudges her with its ichor-covered cheek and turns its six-eyed stare on Oswald.
"How long were you in prison for?" Drisella asks of Oswald, a seemingly honest question but one that could unintentionally plant a seed of doubt. "There was only ever me," she continues, her voice small and hushed, blood dripping from the hem of her ragged dress.
The Walker looks up,opens its mouth and breaths in as if tasting the air. Then, as it lowers its head, the creature directs its attention to Kergh, then with the tip of its barbed tail, nudges Drisella forward in the freak's direction. Drisella protests, briefly, then makes wet, slapping footfalls past Oswald and over to Kergh. Her attention drifts, ever so briefly, to the star of Asmodeus, then back to the twisted man's horrible visage.
"This one is Drisella," she says in a small voice, lifting up a hand with the intention of touching Kergh's cheek. "The walker in darkness likes you," is added as an afterward, followed by a look to the others who had not addressed her yet.
"You should leave with me," is spokem by Drisella as if it were a directive, rather than a plea for company.
Mikhail drops the body to the ground, reveling in the taste of the blood. His head swims with the intoxicating power of the magician's sorcerous blood. Even as the chaos of the room swirls around him - the fire, the elemental, the arrival of the girl - Mikhail simply stands with a rapturous, half-lidded satisfaction. How could he have simply used his charisma and magnetism to have others do his bidding for all these years? For the first time, he had been forced to rely on his own strength and power, to truly commit acts of wanton violence rather than simply direct others to it. He had tasted true power now - the power to hold a man's life and snuff it out through sheer strength. Why deny himself this pleasure? He will still use others to aid him, but Mikhail is more self-confident and self-assured than ever before.
As the world around him comes into focus, he spots the new arrival in time to hear Oswald's mad plea and her introduction. He quickly figures - thanks to the hideous otherworldly beast with her - that she is another prisoner, likely set loose by their actions. "Welcome, Drisella," he says while wiping the blood from his jaw with a hand. "We thought we had collected all the prisoners. I apologize for the oversight in not inviting you personally to our escape. I am Mikhail. This man," he says while gesturing the cooling corpse at his feet, "was our captor, and now he lays dead. We will leave this place and make a new life for ourselves - one of power and strength, where none shall hold us captive again. Would you like that?"
Barnabas groans and twitches, as consciousness slowly returns to him. With a supreme effort he pushes himself up onto his hands and knees.
What?..my eyes!!..what did they do to my eyes?!!
Panic fills him in his daze and confusion, but lasts only a moment as his mind begins to uncloud and the dim shape of his hands slowly resolves before him. With a grunt he pushes himself to his feet, where he sways drunkenly. Blearily he takes in his surroundings: the robed corpse on the floor, Mikhail's red mouth and blood spattered clothes, Oswald's mad ramblings and, of course, the girl with the black monstrosity. In that instant, he wants nothing more than to lie back down and close his eyes, but instead he walks over to take a look at the corpse.
"I seem to have missed the party. I take it that this is our host. Not that I should complain, but I hope you've slaked your thirst Mikhail. I've generally found living prisoners to be much more useful than corpses. They're not good for much beyond breeding maggots and feeding crows. You wouldn't happened to have ask him where he sent his owl off to? No? I thought not. Well no matter. It's not like we could do much about it anyways. What's with the girl and her....pet?"
As the others seem to busy themselves with talking to the strange girl, Ethaniel continues to move through the library a while longer, picking up this book and that but ultimately finding nothing of particular interest. With that task finished, at least for now, the magus moves to the warden's body, his more academic interests in things arcane taking hold as he notices the scrolls. Unfolding one after the other, he begins trying to read through them and decipher them, concentration quite evident in his expression as he does so.
"This one," he finally says after a few moments, "has a spell on it that can put a foe to sleep, while the incantation on this one causes orbs of force to shoot forth from one's hand and strike unerringly at a target. And this third one involves hypnotizing one or more people when cast against them." He then holds aloft the fourth scroll. "I am not able to read this one, however." He pauses briefly. "As far as using them, without a spellbook we can only use them once and then they are gone. And I am only able to cast from the one with the force spell. The others are... not of my particular expertise."
Finally, he turns to get a better look at the girl, though his eyes linger more on the pet rather than its master, trying to see if he can discern anything about it. "And I am Ethaniel. I admit I was not expecting to find someone like you in here, seeing as this is a place for people who have done... questionable things."
"But, then again," he continues as a crooked little smile forms on his lips, "that is no puppy you have with you."
"" the Walker's metallic voice croons as he steps away from Drisella, revealing a wicked and deep puncture wound in its side, likely from a sword of some make given the width of the entry wound. Drisella looks at Walker, curiously, for a moment before returning her attention to the others.
"There's no question about the things done," sounds a bit more precocious than it really is, "we can't stay here." A brief, fearful look is shot in the direction of Grumblejack, as any small young woman may when presented with the rapacious presence of a full-blooded ogre. "Can we... Can we go now? I'm cold."
"And she is no girl."
"I am Kherg. The dwarf. I like your friend too. But I have to find a little girl for Oswald there. First before I go out. The warden has kept her against her father's will. What is he?" points Kherg at the eidolon.
"My friend. A walker in darkness," is Drisella's simple answer to Kergh, watching him with unusual scrutiny, likely at the Walker's urging. She looks back to the creature, who is nosing around the books that Grumblejack put out, then turns to inspect where Drisella is. Ultimately, it goes back to its search.
Drisella, however, merely starts to look down to the floor as she steps away from Kergh. "I saw no others," is briefly muttered, in response to Kergh's proposed search.
Picking herself off the ground, Ariana smoothes her hair while somehow managing to scowl at the corpse of the warden at the same time. Kneeling down next to the man, she spits on the body. This was the best that Talingarde could bring to bear? This feeble excuse for a man was their warden? I would have expected better, even from such an small minded, religiously dogmatic, back woods nation like this. Spitting one last time on the brused and bloodied elderly warden, she turns away, spreading the blackened documents around on the stone flood with one foot. Now then… She murmurs looking up at Kergh. I suppose you and the doctor will wish to rescue his daughter. According to Lorin the only remaining floor on the tower is above us, so feel free to search. As for myself, I wish to see what records the good warden might have had on us.
Gliding around the room Ariana runs one finger along the prison records. It would seem that the warden was a studious man. she whispers. The records are in alphabetical order by last name. Any that weren’t burned or… crushed. She trails off glancing at Grumblejack who is spitting on the soles of his feet trying to ease the pain. Should be easy to locate. Walking slowly around the room Ariana occasionally stops and looks at one book before moving on. Reaching the prison records that begin the letter D, a triumphant smile blossoms on her lips. Grabbing a small record she flips it open and begins examining the contents.
Seemingly satisfied with the contents of her record she closes it and looks up at the new arrival, her gaze flickering at Mikhail’s introduction and invitation and the young woman’s seeming agreement. Recalling her on decision to abandon the group Ariana shutters ever so slightly. She would have to be wary… the others might find her replaceable.
NAME: Catesby, Kaynen
LOCATION OF ARREST: Low quarter of Ghastenhall
CRIME: Treason and sedition
PARTICULARS: Catesby was apprehended by Sir Balin of Karfeld in the low quarter of Ghastenhall during the winter of 4712AR via an anonymous tip. A search of the individual’s residence turned up an incrimination letter as well as a collection of clockwork parts that were later traced to the explosion of Lord Omer Wriothesley carriage. Questioning of the individual’s neighbors and acquaintances could not link who the letter was intended to be sent to. Catesby during interrogation did not divulge who else was associated with the attacks and claims full responsibility for the bombing. The authorities at Ghastenhall have been notified and will be on the lookout for any further attacks. Further investigation into Catesby’s family history indicates a possible link to the Barca regency and connections to the Brotherhood of the Gryphon. This information has been passed onto the inquisition for further investigation. A copy of the incrimination letter has been attached to the subject’s record.
E-
Our names shall be sung by heralds for years to come - for with Act II, we will have unleashed the greatest step in advancing The Movement yet to date.
I have manufactured more Green Stuff than I even thought possible by this time. People will speak of this day as if another Starstone fell from the sky and chose this temple as its only possible destination.
As the rubble is cleared from Mitra’s shrine and only our Symbol remains, people will unite behind our cause, for we will have proved even the most blinding light can be shuttered. Vision will be restored. As words spread, we must be ready to receive those that flock to our cause. I hope you have found an appropriate venue for future meetings.
Our next meeting will be at midnight tomorrow at the large fountain cursed by that ridiculously oversized statue of Mitra near the south gate. Appropriate, no?
-K
FAMILY OR NEXT OF KIN: Kaynen Catesby is the last of his line. His father Crispin Catesby died in 4711AR and his mother Feria Catesby died in 4685AR during child birth. Investigation shows that there has been little contact between Kaynen and his mother’s side of the family.
NAME: Ddraig, Ariana
LOCATION OF ARREST: Denerisk township, The Heartlands
CRIME: Witchcraft
PARTICULARS: Captured during the summoning of a daemon by Inquisitor Isam Minsk on the 18th of Kuthona, 4712AR, the prisoner claims no family. An exam of the prisoner indicates sorcerous ability, possibly residing from some sort of draconic ancestor. A search of inquisitorial records of documented sorcerers revealed no possible links. A search for the source or supplier of the scroll used during the summoning also turned up no links.
FAMILY OR NEXT OF KIN: The prisoner claims no family, however Inquistor Minsk believes that prisoner may be lying to protect another.
NAME: DiAmonicia, Drisella
LOCATION OF ARREST: DiAmonicia manor 20 miles from Ghastenhall
CRIME: Witchcraft
PARTICULARS: Initially captured by Marshall Dominic Tarlucci and then later given over to Sir Balin of Karfeld. The arrest of Drisella DiAmonicia occurred on the 19th of Desnus, 4712AR following the report of unusual activity by the daughter of an DiAmonicia servent named Aleesa Montclaire. Upon arrival at the manor, Marshall Tarlucci discovered the ruined and tortured remains of Sarlucius DiAmonicia who seemed to have been attacked by his adopted daughter Drisella. Upon her arrest Drisella attacked the marshal severing two of his fingers with her teeth. After binding and arresting the child, an account was taken of the scene. Due to the nature of the murder the church of Mitra was notified and a priest conducted several divinations on behalf of the Marshal. Later interviews would report that Sarlucius DiAmonicia had abused his daughter as early as 4708AR. A search of the crime scene also uncovered several barbed instruments and revealed that the elder DiAmonicia had had his hand removed while still alive. Also found at the scene was a small brass box approximately three inches by three inches that appeared to be casted from brass and engraved with several magical symbols. The box along with the instruments was taken into custody by Sir Balin following the arrest of Drisella DiAmonicia for murder and consorting with dark powers.
FAMILY OR NEXT OF KIN: None; Sir Balin’s investigation revealed that Drisella DiAmonicia has been adopted for some unknown reason between her third and fifth birthday. As to the reason for the adoption or who the birth mother and father might be are unknown at this time. With the death of Drisella’s adopted mother during a riding accident in 4708AR and the death of her adopted father in the incident that occurred prior to her arrest, the DiAmonicia estate is without a heir and will be absorbed into the crown holdings.
NAME: Grublejack
LOCATION OF ARREST: The north watch road, eighty miles south of Aldencross.
CRIME: Murder and Pillaging
PARTICULARS: Tracked and captured by one Sir Richard Havelyn of Aldencross, the ogre known as Grumblejack left a bloody spree in the summer of 4712AR when he somehow managed to bypass the northern Watch Walls and attack several villages and caravans. Choosing to forgo summary execution Sir Havelyn had the ogre transported to Branderscar to face the full measure of his crimes.
FAMILY OR NEXT OF KIN:Unknown
NAME: Halacoun, Mikhail
LOCATION OF ARREST: Kingsill district, Matharyn
CRIME: Sedition
PARTICULARS: Acting on a report of sedition by Valerio Medouci a heir to the Brotherhood of Marthanya, the crown dispatched a cohort of Knights of Alerion to arrested one Mikhail Halacoun, a scion of house Halacoun on the charges of sedition. Medouci’s report further implicated several other minor nobles and between their confessions and written evidence between Medouci and Halacoun there was enough to try and convict the noble for sedition. Further investigation was unable to reveal the exact motive for Halacoun’s sedition. For his crimes against the crown, Mikhail Halacoun was sentenced to death and transported to Branderscar Prison to await execution.
FAMILY OR NEXT OF KIN: Mikhail is survived by his father Tommas Halancoun, and his sister Eleana Halacoun. Research into the Halacoun family revealed nothing out of the ordinary. The Halacoun’s remain a minor noble family with a few holdings around Matharyn. Due to Mikhail’s sedition the Halacouns were questioned following the involvement of Mikhail in the plotting to overthrow the crown. Elena, Mikhail’s sister claimed that Mikhail had been angry that so much of the Halacoun’s land had been seized during the revolution but claimed no knowledge about her brothers intent to overthrow the crown.
Your “sister” Elena is a terrible liar. Something else has to be going on here. Either the documents are wrong, or something is being covered up. Either way your “sister” and “father” know they aren’t true Halacouns and you doubt they would be able to hold up on the eye of a trained investigator.
NAME: Malkenkergh, Josefus
LOCATION OF ARREST: Talvinstead, Heartlands
CRIME: Blasphemy
PARTICULARS: Captured following the confession to local authorities by one Sylphia Tallomere, Josefus Malkenkergh or “Kergh” as he calls himself is a case of unusual significance among the clergy. Indoctrinated into the teachings of the fallen one by the known heretic Tesara Nessuri, Kergh had several members of the clergy speak on his behalf during his trial, including one Sister Juliana Lindrin of the Vale. Citing a lack of faculties on the part of Kergh to realize his situation and claiming that he was forced into the worship of the fallen one by Nessuri the court wavered before the crown decreed his punishment.
FAMILY OR NEXT OF KIN: The prisoner who calls himself “Kergh” is survived by his mother Yondeene and his father Hunsfullar Malkenkergh as well as his two sisters Lilany and Rosvillea. Based on “Kerghs” unique situation, no investigation into his family was deemed warranted.
NAME: Tessarin, Ethaniel
LOCATION OF ARREST: The Old Barcan Cemetery, Ghastenhall
CRIME: Grave Robbery
PARTICULARS: On the 4th of Kuthona, 4712, one Ethaniel Tessarin was arrested for the crime of Grave Robbery by Inquisitor Matthais Harkon. Captured while emerging from a crypt located within the Old Barcan Cemetery within Ghastenhall, the prisoner was found to be carrying a sword presumably stolen from the crypt. Upon his arrest the sword that the condemned was carrying was seized as evidence and was included within this file.
FAMILY OR NEXT OF KIN: Investigation revealed that the crypt that the condemned was seen exciting belonged to his adopted father Marvius Tessarin. No additional family could be located.
Something here is not adding up. There is no mention of why the inquisitor Matthais Harkon was waiting for you when you emerged from Marvius’s crypt. Now that you think about it, that was never explained. You don’t remember making a lot of noise and it’s not like there’s a lot of inquisitors within Talingarde. There also seem to be a lot of details missing from your case file. There’s something else going on. Your sure of it.
NAME: Turrill, Oswald
LOCATION OF ARREST: The Old Barcan Cemetery, Ghastenhall
CRIME: Desecration
PARTICULARS: On the morning of 28th Neth, 4712 it was discovered that at some point on the evening of 27th Neth the local shrine to Mitra located on the Old Barcan Cemetery grounds had been desecrated. Piled in fresh offal and animal blood, the golden statue of Mitra had been beheaded with its head set atop of mound of crudely removed dog hearts before the feet of the statue. Questioning of local residents suggested a possible suspect for the crime. One, Oswald Turrill; when the authorities located Oswald it was at the small two room shack that he lived in just off the cemetery grounds. Upon reaching the shack they discovered the man carrying on around the dinner table with the corpses of his dead wife and children. Following his arrest, the local Ghastenhall authorities burned the shack and reinterred the corpses his wife and children.
Note: Interviews with the subject have revealed varying levels of psychosis and delusion. The prisoner steadfastly believes that his wife and children remain alive and suggestions to the contrary are often met with violence. The prisoner claims that voices told him to commit the desecrations in order to help his family. It is therefore decision of the court that rather than facing an execution the prisoner shall be transported Prison Branderscar for holding and then onto to the Vale of Valtaerna for treatment of his madness.
FAMILY OR NEXT OF KIN: With the death of Turrill’s wife Penelope and children Rosaline and Tomas during the outbreak of Red Fever in the summer 4709AR the only remaining family that could be located was and Reginald Turril, Oswald’s father who owns and operates the Shining Memorial funeral home located within the Wrongside district of Ghastenhall.
Why do they keep lying? Your wife and children were taken away by Mitrans. They aren’t dead!
NAME: Wright, Barnabas
LOCATION OF ARREST: Magistrate Hall, Lords Quarter, Ghastenhall
CRIME: Slavery
PARTICULARS: On the 28th of Lamashan, 4712AR, the condemned stood within the Magistrate Hall within the Lords Quarter of Ghastenhall… the rest is burned from the fire that consumed several other records
FAMILY OR NEXT OF KIN: The condemned is survived by his two brothers Tobias and Oberon as well as his sister… the rest is burned as well
After a brief introduction with Disella, Kergh forces his ungainly body up the remaining stairs to the 3rd and final floor of the warden’s tower. At the top of the landing there is a small foyer and in place of stone is a polished wood floor. To the north is an oak door with a brass plaque affixed to it that reads Warden’s Office. To the south is a second oak door also with a brass plaque that reads Warden’s quarters: Private.
Opening the door to the warden’s office reveals a large wood desk that sits in front of lead paneled glass window that overlooks a storm tossed sea. Lighting up the room for a brief second is a bolt of lightning in the distance. As the bright bolt of light fades it is replaced by the glowing of a small dull stone that rests upon the table that radiates warm light. A search of the room reveals that the bottom cabinet of the wardens desk is locked, but a few moments later your able to find a key that is below several sheets of paper that unlocks the drawer.
Richter’s Tome of Arcane Armament (Level 4 Illusionist)
This beautiful book is made of fine cerulean leather embossed with gold leaf. Its edges are reinforced with brass fittings and strange arcane symbols adorn its covered. It bears the draconic rune of “R” in the center of its front cover.
Value 400 gp | Blank Pages 61
SPELLS
2nd – bull’s strength, flaming sphere, hideous laughter, hypnotic pattern, invisibility
1st – alarm, charm person, expeditious retreat, feather fall, mage
armor, magic missile, magic mouth, mount, shield, sleep
0th – all cantrips in the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Core Rulebook
Picking up the dull grey stone and placing it in the air around your head it begins to float, slowly rotating in place. The item is clearly an Ioun Torch.
Warden,
My interrogator and I will be visiting Branderscar on the 28th of Calistril to witness the execution of your most recent set of prisoners. Please have your guards ready and on display. If you have any men that you recommend for advancement into the inquisitor guard please have their records ready for my review. Branderscar has had a long tradition of maintaining the highest discipline and I look forward to reading your recommendation. In addition I will be collecting some documents when I arrive. Please have the case records for Ethaniel Tessarin ready for me to along with sword that was included as evidence.
Also, concerning the matter of what we previously spoke of. I will require you to have the prisoner I directed you to keep separate prepared to travel. Warden, I cannot stress to you enough to treat the woman with extreme caution. You must keep her monitored at all times, she is far more dangerous then you or anyone else know. I know this is a heavy burden you must bear, but it is through faith that all things are possible.
In devotion,
Inquisitor Matthais Harkon
Half sleeping area, half laboratory the warden’s quarters consists of a single large oaken bed that takes up one wall of the room. The rest of the room contains two desks or possibly work tables as well as a large wardrobe made to match the rest of the oak furniture.
On the first work table there is several glass jars that are suspended over candles. Contained Within the jars is a bubbling morass of yellow-red liquid. There are also several mason jars strewn about the table that hold varying levels of multicolored powders as well as a set of scales, a measuring scoop and several wax sealed clay pots.
On the second work table there are several sheets of paper held down with a lump of a black glassy looking rock. On display or perhaps on examine on the table are two items of interest. The first is a small children’s doll. The face is made of porcelain and its eyes seem to follow you around the room. The body doll has been cut down a center seam and several pins have been used to keep the cloth pried apart. Disgustingly the doll seems to have been stuffed at some point with bits of dirt, flecks of bone and strands of dirty blond hair. As Kergh looks at the table the doll seems to shutter.
The second item is a long curved sword with a blackened blade approximately four and a half feet long. The blade itself bears waves along its length as if it had been folded in the Damascus style at least a hundred times. The only bit of the blade that is not black is its razor sharp edge that glints silver in the flickering candlelight. Oddly, the blade seems to drink in the light as if the space immediately around the blade has grown darker. Resting below the black katana is the accompanying scabbard, enameled in red with a black silk tassel frayed at the end.
Eyes settling on the blade, Kergh gasps. Even to an untrained eye such as his it is apparent this is something both beautiful and terrible, a crowning achievement of a master smith.
Kergh breathes heavily and gulps down air when he reaches the landing. The holy dwarf wipes his dripping mouth again and again after all that exertion. He opens the office door scans round and then moves onto the Private Quarters. Kergh pushes at that door hard. If that is no good, he will search the office for a key.
The priest shouts down "got doll and sword but no girl."
Having left Drisella's side, her erstwhile and monstrous companion stalks through the ruins of the tower, pushing charred books and papers aside with its clawed hand. Six eyes scan the materials, intently looking for something. After a moment, the creature's multiple eyes square on a document and its tail lashes out, pinning down a record within arm's reach of Arianna.
The creature presses the tip of its tail firmly against the tome, then approaches slowly, snatching the record up with its jaws before shaking it wildly and sending the papers scattering to the floor. Piece by piece it flips through the papers with one clawed forelimb, searching for something. Then, seeing whatever it was it was searching for, the walker in darkness backs away from the records and returns to Drisella, who has occupied herself with circling Grumblejack inquisitively.
___________
Ethaniel starts reading through his file, questions arising as he does so. 'Not as detailed as I expected,' he ponders, 'and no mention of how the inquisitor knew to expect me right outside the tomb.' There is a look of curiosity on his face as he thinks things through. "I was careful, I know I was," he mutters softly as if thinking out loud, "and it is not like Talingarde is filled with inquisitors."
"Hmm." As the rest finish reading through their files and start to make their way upstairs, the magus follows them closely, taking care to keep his record, tucking it in his belt. After all, it might come in useful later on. No matter how interesting its contents, however, they are all but forgotten as soon as he finally enters the warden's quarters, his eyes quickly moving to rest on the second of the two work tables and widening at the sight of what is found on it. Everything else is ignored, everything else is so trivial compared to it. The sword, his sword.
Quickly he makes his way to it, hesitating for but a moment before reaching to take hold of it, the hilt's soft black leather and then the weapon's weight and balance as he holds it parallel to the floor feeling so very familiar in his grasp. He cannot supress a smile as he closes his eyes in contentment. "Ah, my right arm is complete again," he proclaims softly, his voice almost a whisper.
"Oh, let's see the warden's quarters!"
Kaynen clasps his hand like a child during the Winter Veil festival, believing he is about to receive a precious gift from his parents.
Stepping into the quarters behind Kergh, his partially-elven eyes narrow and absorb the room's contents.
"Hmm, a bitter better appointed that I'd expect, given our warden's deficiency in sight."
Kaynen begins to stroll through the warden's room like a customer passing about market aisles, flipping through a book here, shuffling through clothing there, and finally coming to the alchemical reagents on the table.
"Why warden! Bottles of fire and acid! Sulfurous ash! Linseed oil! Iocaine powder! You shouldn't have!"
The half-elf turns to Kergh, and gives him a pleading expression, fully reveling in his assumed role of a present-receiving child. Yet, it's a role he holds up for a fraction of a second, not expecting the bewildered dwarf to understand the response he is seeking.
He begins to pick up the glass bottles, raising them to the light, and brushing his hand against them like a crazed witch reunited with his long-lost daughter.
"So, Matthais Harkon would be visiting us on the 28th? It's almost tempting to stay a little longer and give him a warm reception, isn't it?"
I wonder if the others could play their parts with the proper zeal should we choose that?
"Sorry Oswald, your daughter is gone."
"Ah, yes. You can carry this and this. Oh, this one is for trained hands only!"
Kaynen reserves anything fragile for his dextrous hands, and ensures that Kergh only carries items that are heavy and can weather through being dropped several times.
Kergh juggles the items with some care and packs them away until he is finished. The dwarf keeps his face down, trying not to make eye contact with the poor Oswald. He focusses on the work and shies away from the grave digger, not trying to take anything that Kaynen deems too important.
Eventually he is unable to bear the responsibility for not finding the girl. "Kaynen, d'you think Oswald's girl is dead?" he whispers quietly when no one else should hear.
On the third floor, Oswald immediately goes to the Warden's office and starts rooting through everything in his search for his daughter. Drawers and cabinets are lain bare or dumped into piles as he furiously looks for a hiding spot amongst the Warden's paraphernalia. He lays the few items of interest he finds on top of the desk as he lets loose a string of curses. Where did the Warden stash his daughter? In some hidden cell he surmised but one that he had been unable to locate so far.
As the brief spark of hope was dying in his heart, Oswald rests his head against the desktop with a heavy sigh. A miasma of despair settles atop the mad doctor's singed shoulders before Kergh's voice cuts through the cloud from the other room. Did the twisted man say a doll? He did say that, didn't he! Oswald's head snaps up as he darts toward the other room, the bedroom, amidst a fluttering of flying papers. He appears in the bedroom doorframe, gripping the frame firmly with his hands as he looks at Kergh inside, "You have found her, Kergh? You have found her!"
Oswald stumbles across the room, his arms thrown wide as he enfolds them around the strange doll in the manner most would show to a loved one. He breaks out in a fit of joyful sobs that wrack his body as he squeezes the doll against his chest, "Rosaline, my poor sweet child, daddy has you! Daddy has you! The bad, mean men won't hurt you anymore, I promise, little dove. We'll find your mother and brother soon then we'll be one, big, happy family again. I promise." His face a ruin of healing burn marks and dirty rivers of tears flowing down from his eyes, Oswald turns to Kergh and places a hand on the man's shoulder, "I shall never forget this, Mister Kergh. You have found my little lost girl and for that you have my eternal gratitude and friendship."
Suddenly, the mad doctor breaks out in happy laughter as he spins Rosaline around before walking back toward the stairs as he starts to talk to the doll, "I'm sorry, little dove. I tried to get to you as soon as I could... I know he was doing bad things to you. That is why we killed him... Yes, he paid for his crimes. This is why I tell you and your brother not to do bad things to others... Yes, all those Mitra-damned fools will pay for their crimes. As it should be... Yes, I suppose we can stop for a meatpie once we're on our way home. But only if you're a good girl and listen to your daddy."
Kergh does a passable impression of a goldfish, staring at Kaynen and Ethaniel for answers.
A flask stand clangs to the floor reflexively as his paw drops open too.
Kaynen arches an eyebrow, his usual cocksure smile instead parting to reveal his mouth agape at the reunion of Oswald with his beloved.
Unable to control himself from responding to Kergh, Kaynen's smile returns and he nods and whispers a reply to the dwarf.
"Indeed. Dead as a ragdoll."
Feigning a dramatic attempt to brush a non-existent tear from his eye, Kaynen composes himself and completes his search of the warden's room.
Upon collecting any valuables he would find useful, he uncorks the bottle of scotch, takes a swig and passes it to Barnabas.
Tossing the bottle of cologne in his hand, the half-elf resists the temptation to hand it off to Grumblejack, who looks at him like he might be thirsty for its contents.
"Best we pack up what will be useful. We certainly don't want to be pratting about when the Harkon gets here. We must plan our meeting with that one carefully..."
Although, I am quite fond of pratting about.
Shrugging, Kaynen decides why not and tosses the cologne bottle to the ogre.
Mikhail is not a man to let an opportunity go to waste, even if it means indulging the madness of a clearly ill man. Perhaps Oswald can be guided to be of assistance. If he turns out to be a hindrance, Mikhail should be able to use his madness as an easy excuse for eliminating the mad wizard. He gives a glance to Barnabas, trying to demonstrate with a look that he is trying to establish a foothold in Oswald's mind. "Your daughter will be safe with us. Returning home is not an option for you, not until we can make it safe. I fear that she won't be safe - none of Talingarde's children will be - until we can tear down the sick zealotry that leads to men like the Warden being given positions of power."
Mikhail takes the files, including the one that Ariana holds in her hands. The sorceress puts up a protest, but trying to match wills with the icy self-appointed leader of the group is difficult. Those who are staying with the group outnumber her, and she mustn't give them a reason to doubt her. Mikhail flips through the files, easily digesting their contents and learning about the others as they all rummage through the contents of the Warden's apartment. He wonders out loud as he reads. "I know too little of arcane ways. If the Warden let loose his owl with a letter, would the owl continue on its mission? With no way to know what he wrote, I feel that we must assume that our escape is known - but he could not have written a great deal. Perhaps as little as, 'The prisoners have escaped.' Barnabas, can you forge new files detailing other prisoners and their crimes? If we place these files in a safe place with the ledgers from earlier that implicated Sergeant Blackerly in graft, we can make it seem that he set the prisoners free when he realized that the Warden was investigating him. Perhaps a journal in the Warden's hand would further establish this. We will move the captured guards and the bodies into this room and make it appear that the Warden, the escaped prisoners, and several guards died in a blaze? We must capture Blackerly or kill him and take his body with us, to make it seem that they have someone to look for." With the broad strokes of his plan laid out for the others, he awaits the others' impressions.
Barnabas walks over to stack of files that the others have put together and if no one objects he leafs through them, secretly pleased that the chance had obliterated a fair bit of his own background.
Well, well, well Mikhail is of the nobility. That's what I get for avoiding court. I wonder if he knows the truth of me? What else do we have here, treason, blasphemy, grave robbing, consorting with such and such, being and ogre... Nothing too exciting.
He pauses while reading Oswald's file, Poor man is officially off his rocker, I shudder to think what will happen when we find his 'daughter'
He puts up no fuss when Mikhail wants to take them.
"I could fake some other documents to replace ours, but it would be of little use. There would still be documents at the cities of our arrests and some of us aren't exactly anonymous, My Lord. It might be better if they think that we died in the fire or otherwise. If we dress some of the guards in our prison clothes and destroy their faces non will be the wiser. That coupled with leaving those we've locked up to die in the fire should leave things in a suitably confusing manner. If we play our cards right, they'll think that Grumblejack is the only who actually escaped. Assuming that we actually ever get out of here."
That finished, he heads upstairs to see what all the commotion is, giving Drisella a polite nod and the walker a wide berth.
Upstairs he catches the tail end of Oswald's 'reunion' with his 'daughter'. Well that's not nearly so gruesome as I would have expected.
"Well my good doctor, I see you've found your little girl. She's a fine looking young lady and I'm glad no harm has befallen her. Did the rest of you find what you were looking for? I don't mean to hurry you along, but there was the issue of the warden's owl. We had best be long gone before reinforcements arrive and the night's work is not yet finished. We had best get moving."
While still young and in obvious mental disorder, even Drisella can clearly see something is not well with Oswald. The girl looks at the Walker, who stares blankly back at her with its six-fold gaze. Finally, the young woman takes a few barefoot steps forward, tracking bloody prints on the floor mixed with ashes. She leaves proximity of Kergh to move beside Oswald, reaching out to try and take the "doctor's" hand.
"There, there," Drisella murmurs in a tone that seems as awkward as it sounds. "Blood will make it all better," she attests obliquely, not bothering to define how much blood or whose. Walker allows her to wander, though its attention turns to Kergh, watching the stunted man with wordless scrutiny. Something goes on behind those many eyes, but nothign is said. Words, likely, best kept for later.
"The blood-drinker is right," Drisella notes belatedly to Oswald, "it's not safe here."
As evidenced by the carnage.
Flashes of lightning burst from the heavens above mixed with rain and howling wind. In the small quarters that belong to the Warden, rain pelts the window as the forsaken stand within the room scouring it for anything of use. In one corner Grumblejack catches the bottle of cologne thrown to him by Kaynen. Sniffing at it a huge smile breaks out on his face. Smells like bad meat. The ogre grumbles raising it in the air. Wut is ut?
All around the room the forsaken stalk, picking the place clean of anything of value. The bed is flipped and the desk is searched and before long a small pile of objects that might be of value are piled on top of the wardens bed. At that moment, everything is quiet. There is a lull in the thunder and lightning and the wind seems to die off for a brief second. But it is just a pause. It is the breath one takes before they scream. Darkness rests on the horizon. An inquisitor works in the shadows and the only ones that each forsaken can rely on are the people around them and each of them has a secret they would kill to protect.
Then as quickly as the moment, and the grim truths it conveyed was there, it is gone. Raising itself on its haunches the umbral black creature Walker in Darkness pads forward towards the window as if sniffing the air. A moment later, Barnabas feels the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Suddenly there’s a BOOM! Of thunder and then a CRACK! of lightning. As the white bolt of lightning flashes down outside of the window of the Wardens tower, Barnabas curses under his breath. Though the rain and wind, the slim man sees’s nine shapes moving outside of the courtyard and around the tower. In the lead is a rain slicked Sergeant Blackerly. Silently moving up though the rain Barnabas is able to see Blackerly pointing to the tower, while six men and two dogs move with him. It appears if if the guards are attempting to move quietly, but their armor and the gusting wind seems to hamper their movements. It clear that will only be a minute or two before they reach the base of the tower.
<< >>
Picking up your daughter, you feel a tingle spread through your limbs, sudden the aches and pains from the months since your incarceration seem to melt away. Everything seems so clear. You have your daughter back and you will never let anything separate you again.
Smiling your daughter looks up at you with beneficent smile, but her eyes seem worried. I’m scared father. She whispers clutching at your hand. The men here were bad. They have hurt so many people. You should hurt them back. She whispers gazing up into your eyes with hope, trust and perhaps a tinge of fear..
You complete me… Such a thing sounds silly in the extreme. It is something that is spoken of by young lovers as they stare into each other’s eyes and hope for a better tomorrow. And yet, somehow there is a hint of truth to such words. Ever since you gazed upon the inky blade that rests in your hands you have known separation. You have known pangs of anger and jealousy as you watched your adopted father Marvius hold you back from what should have been yours. He may have guarded and cared for the blade, but the blade called to you above all others.
And now it is yours. The question is, what will you do with it?
_____________________________________
Strong Wind: Gusts that automatically extinguish unprotected flames (candles, torches, and the like). Such gusts impose a –2 penalty on ranged attack rolls and on Perception checks.
Kaynen gives the guards circling the tower a long, measured glance before returning his attention to the others in the room
Fiddling with the chain shirt and Branderscar tabbard, he adds, "to tell you the truth, I think we wear the armor better."
Scooping up the warden's eyepatch and monocle, since you never know when you might need both an eyepatch and a monocle for something, his eyes narrow as he sizes up the injuries that everyone faced in the fight with the warden.
"Well, they are coming to us. If we form a half-circle here at the entry point..."
As a plan is discussed and preparations are made, Ethaniel smiles a crooked little smile as he brandishes his sword, almost as if he is testing it. "It would seem you are to be put to purpose soon enough," he says softly, anticipation clearly evident in his voice as his wound from not too long ago is all but forgotten.
He then turns to look at the rest of them, the Forsaken. Criminals and madmen and monsters, each word fitting some of them better than the others. Still, his lot seems to be with them. He was imprisoned alongside them and he was to be executed, again alongside them. And now? Now he is escaping with them. 'Life has certainly got very complicated very quickly,' he thinks to himself. "I do so hope it keeps on going though, complicated or not," he mutters, finishing the thought out loud.
"We got things to throw down stairs. Like barrels or boxes. Slow them alot." Kherg has scratched his head to try to come up with a suggestion. He starts to look for ways to do this, probably with the help of Grumblejack of no one minds.
As Drisella takes nervous steps back and away from the door when discussions of battle emerge, the Walker moves in to fill the young woman's space. It is like one aspect of a personality fading to the background, while another emerges to the foreground, but with less symbolism and more direct physicality.
As it moves, the wound in the Walker's side oozes black ichor and the beast has a subtle limp on the flank that was stabbed. The Walker moves to the doorway, tail lashing back and forth behind it, sweeping discarded books aside as it does. Finally, it comes to stand beside Kaynen, looking up at him with all six of its eyes and a single slap of its tail down on the ground as if to imply, I am ready.
"Blast and be bother. Looks like we've got trouble. Any thoughts? Do we try to hold the door or the stair? Magicky types, anybody been holding back on some fire or lighting, because now might a good time to bring it out."
Barnabas scurries about, trying to take stock of what gear they have that might be of use. Remembering the veil, he tracks it down and scanning the remaining patches, he removes the one in the shape of a potion bottle and places it on a table. Seeing Drisella unarmed, he hands her a dagger from his belt.
"Take this my dear, I think you may have needs of it soon."
At first, Drisella recoils from the drawn blade as if expecting to be stuck with it. In that same movement where she withdraws, Walker moves in close to Barnabas' side and lets loose a metallic rumble of a growl, barbed tail snaking between the older man's feet. But when six eyes spy the dagger held handle out, it relinquishes some personal space.
Drisella, seeing the Walker comfortable with the arrangement, reaches out to shakily take the dagger in one hand. Dark eyes are wide, she curls her fingers around the handle, though never lets her doe-eyed stare leave Barnabas'. The wordless stare says, what do you expect me to do with this?
But, the knowing twitch of a smile at the corner of her mouth means somewhere deep down inside, she knows exactly what to do.
Kergh looks round the library and fetches a small bench then he wedges it near the top of the stairs to block the steps and create an obstacle. If Grumblejack can help, the dwarf will enlist his aid.
"You got oil? No."
Kergh moves back inside the office and lights a lantern before throwing blankets and pillows back down and around the bench. Given time he would do more but Kergh hurries and slopes dragging one foot in his haste.
He finishes by making a quick prayer and waiting at the head of the stairs.
DM Only
Like the booming of war drums thunder falls from the heavens accompanied by the cracks of lightning and the buffeting gusts of wind that howl through the courtyard of what was once a prison and is now not much more than a charnel house.
Though the wind and rain the forsaken can make out the shuffeling figured of six men and two dogs approaching the tower. Perhaps they can be reasoned with? Yells a young man with a shield that bears a sunburst of Mitra differing from the standard rampant castle of the Branderscar coat of arms.
Sure! Mutters the overweight sergeant, the rain having ruined a once fine uniform. And maybe they would walk willingly to the headsman’s axe you stuttering dolt! He exclaims with a scowl. You can’t reason with people like this. No. The sergeant steadfastly proclaims looking each of the motley crew of guardsman that were off duty. We go in there and we do our jobs. We put them down. No complains, no whining. Nodding to himself the sergeant points to the tower through the rain and the wind. Don’t show any mercy lads, the wouldn’t for you. Scowling, Blackerly wipes the rain from his head and peers at the tower one last time. The warden should have taken down a few.. can’t be more than two or three left.
__________________________________
Oswald hunkers down behind Kergh's barricade with him as he hugs his daughter's doll close against his chest, "No one will take you away from me again, little dove. Never again. We'll kill them all before letting that happen, yes we will... Yes, the bad man will pay. I'll make a garland of his intestines for you, my dear." The doctor holds the fragments of a spell on the tip of his tongue, ready to unleash it upon any guard that makes its way to the top.
________________________________
Letting out a rumbling growl, the Walker in Darkness circles around behind Kergh and prowls to the interior wall of the tower. Claws scratch at stone before the beast vaults itself up onto a desk, then latches on to the stone wall and begins crawling upwards towards the ceiling. The ichor-coated musculature of the Walker glides over unusual metal parts as it climbs the wall and portions of the tower ceiling before coming to rest directly above the door, its tail lashing back and forth slowly like a cat waiting to pounds. Its jaws open, revealing gleaming steel teeth as another rattling growl slips out of its maw.
_________
Location: Warden's Tower 3rd Floor
Liking Kaynen plan, Barnabas heads to the first floor to prepare to ambush the first guard to step through.
"Come one boys. Let's not give them a foothold if we can help it."
Closing his eyes amongst the wind and the rain, Brother Harvin brandishes forth his shield towards the warden’s tower. Though the words are unable to be made out among the screaming wind, a warm glow seems to radiate from the small, tonsured man’s shield. Immediately the glow seems to spread through each of the remaining guards. As the light spreads it pushes back the darkness, and a steely glint appears in the closes guards eyes.
Waiving forward towards the tower with his mace the youthful man bears a sense of calm and peacefulness at odds with the horrible acts that have already occurred within the confines of Branderscars walls. Go with Mitra! The acolyte intones his voice carrying through the storm, sure and resolute.
____________________________
First beginning as a low hum, then working its way up to a whistle, Kaynen finally bursts into rousing song, selecting lyrics that evoke the recounting of a dramatic prison escape.
The half-elf completely improvises a new chorus.
"... and then they blackeyed Black-er-lee!"
"Again!"
"... and then they blackeyed Black-er-lee!"
Following Barnabas down the stairs leading to the tower's first floor, Ethaniel repeats the ritual from before as he once again passes his hand over the curved sword, the weapon's black blade appearing to absorb the arcane energy emanating from the magus and becoming sharper somehow. Then he proceeds to take position next to the door, on the opposite side than the one the rogue stands and waits. There is a simple nod to the other man as Ethaniel braces for the inevitable fight. "This is it," he whispers, as much to himself and the rogue in front of him as to the blade held firmly in his grasp.
Wide-eyed and shakily clutching the dagger that had been thrust into her hand, Drisella backs up to the tower window overlooking the courtyard, glancing over her shoulder to the rainy cobblestone three stories below. "W-we're trapped in here..." she murmurs in fright, looking back to the doorway, wetting her lips in subconscious anticipation.
_________
Stalking forward towards the edge of the door, Gumblejack, wounded and bloody puts his back towards the door and readies himself to strike out with his headsman's at the first guard to cross its threshold. Words are not needed at a moment like this. Even the ogre with his limited intelligence knows that this will be a dangerous battle. However once Kayene starts to sing the Ogre can't help but shuffle his feet a little bit. Dis be good dancing music The ogre rumbles while smiling at the thought of a good hootenanny.
Coldly detached Mikhail feels a tingle run through his body at the coppery aftertaste of Warden Richter's blood. In some part of his brain the disposed noble knew he was different, he had always known that. But the sudden ecstasy brought on by the thundering adrenaline and surging magical power of the mages blood rocked the analytical man deeply. He had never truly given into his heritage until a few moments ago and it was more than he had expected it would be. And now he was hungry... very very hungry.
Nodding to the rest of the group, Mikhail prepared himself. They would likely make a single rush and hope to overwhelm them. When the moment came the forsaken with martial skill were going to strike and then fall back. It was a good plan. He had seen it used before in his half-brothers war councils and he knew that hit and run strikes were most effective when there was someone able to cover your retreat. Dark lord willing, Oswald would be sane enough to remember to cast his spell in time. Frowning briefly Mikhail just sighed. There was nothing else to be done. Either it worked or it didn't.
High above on the third floor of the tower Ariana smiled cruelly. An Acolyte of Mitra? Ariane murmured to herself. How kind of you to reveal yourself at such an opportune time. Clutching the pilfered scroll in her hands, Ariana stood by the window of the tower and in the flickering light of the falling lightning Ariana began to chant.
Ես կոչ եմ անում ձեզ, կամ մուգ one! Առաջին, որ ընկել, Տէր գաղտնիքներն ու Դժոխքի կրակները. Թող իշխանությունը հմայքը գան եւ լրացնել իմ թշնամիներին ահ. Այնպես որ, ասում են, որ մենք պետք է ձեզ համար.
As Ariana's chanting reaches a crescendo, Sergeant Blackerly through the rain points with a gleaming longsword towards the tower. He bellows and with a Twang! Two arrows sail through the doorway of the wardens tower ricocheting off the stone and clattering away. Grimacing Blackerly shakes his head before sweeping his sword around at the three other guards that accompany him. GUARDSMAN! ADVANCE! He booms again sweeping his blade forward in a slashing motion to the tower.
Yelling and Bellowing the three men rush forward the first leading an attack dog. The lead guardsmen yells before his cry is cut off as the combined strikes from Ethaniel and Mikhail bring him to his knees. As the man falls to the floor he lets slip of the dog leash and the snarling bloodhound leaps forward towards Grumblejack.
The hulking ogre bellows since everyone else is. The ogre cries sweeping his axe down onto the bloodhound, eliciting a whimpering grunt from the dog before it joins its master in death.
Following in closely behind the guardsman with his dog, the two other guards carrying swords and shields charge in. The first bellows at Kaynen and sweeps his blade forward towards the revolutionary. Snorting in disgust, the bard recalls his favorite scene from The Midnight Edge. You see my good man Kaynen cheerfully interposes, sweeping the guards blade away with a deft parry. Terribly wrong pose. When you lunge it needs to be. like. this. Kayene mocks, diving in and placing the tip of his blade directly though the man's throat with poise.
Barnabas is not so lucky however. As the last guard rushes in Sergeant Blackerly follows in behind him. Eyes narrowing at Barnabas the guard sergeant released the leash of his mastiff and uses his free hand to point at the slaver. Kill the little one. He commands the last standing guard while simultaneously chopping his blade in towards the rogue. Caught in a cage of sharpened steel, Barnabas attempts to dodge out of the way and despite all odds manages to barely catch the sergeants blade on his shoulder instead of through his gut. Seeing an opening the remaining guard brings his blade in low slashing across Barnabas thigh in a flash of blood.
As the last warhound is released it like its fallen packmate rushes towards Grumblejack. Grumblejack cries again Good Pupp... RRRRrrrrrrrggggg The ogre screams as the hound leaps into the air and latches onto grumblejacks arms, shaking itself viciously. The ogre hollers flinging his arm and the dog around through the air while attempting to dislodge it.
Meanwhile above on the third floor of the tower the rest of the Forsaken wait anxiously and Ariana's comes to a harsh, shrieking conclusion. As the sorceress finishes her spell, the vellum parchment crumbles to dust. Drawing the power into her, Ariana's hand becomes wreathed in blue motes of light. So foolish to reveal yourself. Ariana hisses again pointing with a single finger towards the open window and the acolyte of Mitra below. So very, very foolish... she mutters as she redirects the claimed power out of her hands and into the night below where it impacts onto the praying priest.
I call upon you or Dark One! First of the Fallen, Lord of Secrets and Fires of Hell. Let the power of magic come forth and fill my enemies with dread. So say we in before you.
____________
Like the booming of war drums thunder falls from the heavens accompanied by the cracks of lightning and the buffeting gusts of wind that howl through the courtyard of what was once a prison and is now not much more than a charnel house.
Though the wind and rain the forsaken can make out the shuffling figures of six men and two dogs approaching the tower. Perhaps they can be reasoned with? Yells a young man with a shield that bears a sunburst of Mitra differing from the standard rampant castle of the Branderscar coat of arms.
Sure! Mutters the overweight sergeant, the rain having ruined a once fine uniform. And maybe they would walk willingly to the headsman’s axe you stuttering dolt! He exclaims with a scowl. You can’t reason with people like this. No. The sergeant steadfastly proclaims looking each of the motley crew of guardsman that were off duty. We go in there and we do our jobs. We put them down. No complains, no whining. Nodding to himself the sergeant points to the tower through the rain and the wind. Don’t show any mercy lads, the wouldn’t for you. Scowling, Blackerly wipes the rain from his head and peers at the tower one last time. The warden should have taken down a few.. can’t be more than two or three left.
Oswald hunkers down behind Kergh's barricade with him as he hugs his daughter's doll close against his chest, "No one will take you away from me again, little dove. Never again. We'll kill them all before letting that happen, yes we will... Yes, the bad man will pay. I'll make a garland of his intestines for you, my dear." The doctor holds the fragments of a spell on the tip of his tongue, ready to unleash it upon any guard that makes its way to the top.
Letting out a rumbling growl, the Walker in Darkness circles around behind Kergh and prowls to the interior wall of the tower. Claws scratch at stone before the beast vaults itself up onto a desk, then latches on to the stone wall and begins crawling upwards towards the ceiling. The ichor-coated musculature of the Walker glides over unusual metal parts as it climbs the wall and portions of the tower ceiling before coming to rest directly above the door, its tail lashing back and forth slowly like a cat waiting to pounds. Its jaws open, revealing gleaming steel teeth as another rattling growl slips out of its maw.
Liking Kaynen plan, Barnabas heads to the first floor to prepare to ambush the first guard to step through. "Come on boys. Let's not give them a foothold if we can help it."
Closing his eyes amongst the wind and the rain, Brother Harvin brandishes forth his shield towards the warden’s tower. Though the words are unable to be made out among the screaming wind, a warm glow seems to radiate from the small, tonsured man’s shield. Immediately the glow seems to spread through each of the remaining guards. As the light spreads it pushes back the darkness, and a steely glint appears in the closes guards eyes.
Waiving forward towards the tower with his mace the youthful man bears a sense of calm and peacefulness at odds with the horrible acts that have already occurred within the confines of Branderscars walls. Go with Mitra! The acolyte intones his voice carrying through the storm, sure and resolute.
Following Barnabas down the stairs leading to the tower's first floor, Ethaniel repeats the ritual from before as he once again passes his hand over the curved sword, the weapon's black blade appearing to absorb the arcane energy emanating from the magus and becoming sharper somehow. Then he proceeds to take position next to the door, on the opposite side than the one the rogue stands and waits. There is a simple nod to the other man as Ethaniel braces for the inevitable fight. "This is it," he whispers, as much to himself and the rogue in front of him as to the blade held firmly in his grasp.
Wide-eyed and shakily clutching the dagger that had been thrust into her hand, Drisella backs up to the tower window overlooking the courtyard, glancing over her shoulder to the rainy cobblestone three stories below. "W-we're trapped in here..." she murmurs in fright, looking back to the doorway, wetting her lips in subconscious anticipation.
Stalking forward towards the edge of the door, Gumblejack, wounded and bloody puts his back towards the door and readies himself to strike out with his headsman's at the first guard to cross its threshold. Words are not needed at a moment like this. Even the ogre with his limited intelligence knows that this will be a dangerous battle. However once Kayene starts to sing the Ogre can't help but shuffle his feet a little bit. Dis be good dancing music The ogre rumbles while smiling at the thought of a good hootenanny.
Coldly detached Mikhail feels a tingle run through his body at the coppery aftertaste of Warden Richter's blood. In some part of his brain the disposed noble knew he was different, he had always known that. But the sudden ecstasy brought on by the thundering adrenaline and surging magical power of the mages blood rocked the analytical man deeply. He had never truly given into his heritage until a few moments ago and it was more than he had expected it would be. And now he was hungry... very very hungry.
Nodding to the rest of the group, Mikhail prepared himself. They would likely make a single rush and hope to overwhelm them. When the moment came the forsaken with martial skill were going to strike and then fall back. It was a good plan. He had seen it used before in his half-brothers war councils and he knew that hit and run strikes were most effective when there was someone able to cover your retreat. Dark lord willing, Oswald would be sane enough to remember to cast his spell in time. Frowning briefly Mikhail just sighed. There was nothing else to be done. Either it worked or it didn't.
High above on the third floor of the tower Ariana smiled cruelly. An Acolyte of Mitra? Ariane murmured to herself. How kind of you to reveal yourself at such an opportune time. Clutching the pilfered scroll in her hands, Ariana stood by the window of the tower and in the flickering light of the falling lightning Ariana began to chant.
Ես կոչ եմ անում ձեզ, կամ մուգ one! Առաջին, որ ընկել, Տէր գաղտնիքներն ու Դժոխքի կրակները. Թող իշխանությունը հմայքը գան եւ լրացնել իմ թշնամիներին ահ. Այնպես որ, ասում են, որ մենք պետք է ձեզ համար.
As Ariana's chanting reaches a crescendo, Sergeant Blackerly through the rain points with a gleaming longsword towards the tower. He bellows and with a Twang! Two arrows sail through the doorway of the wardens tower ricocheting off the stone and clattering away. Grimacing Blackerly shakes his head before sweeping his sword around at the three other guards that accompany him. GUARDSMAN! ADVANCE! He booms again sweeping his blade forward in a slashing motion to the tower.
Yelling and Bellowing the three men rush forward the first leading an attack dog. The lead guardsmen yells before his cry is cut off as the combined strikes from Ethaniel and Mikhail bring him to his knees. As the man falls to the floor he lets slip of the dog leash and the snarling bloodhound leaps forward towards Grumblejack.
The hulking ogre bellows since everyone else is. The ogre cries sweeping his axe down onto the bloodhound, eliciting a whimpering grunt from the dog before it joins its master in death.
Following in closely behind the guardsman with his dog, the two other guards carrying swords and shields charge in. The first bellows at Kaynen and sweeps his blade forward towards the revolutionary. Snorting in disgust, the bard recalls his favorite scene from The Midnight Edge. You see my good man Kaynen cheerfully interposes, sweeping the guards blade away with a deft parry. Terribly wrong pose. When you lunge it needs to be. like. this. Kayene mocks, diving in and placing the tip of his blade directly though the man's throat with poise.
Barnabas is not so lucky however. As the last guard rushes in Sergeant Blackerly follows in behind him. Eyes narrowing at Barnabas the guard sergeant released the leash of his mastiff and uses his free hand to point at the slaver. Kill the little one. He commands the last standing guard while simultaneously chopping his blade in towards the rogue. Caught in a cage of sharpened steel, Barnabas attempts to dodge out of the way and despite all odds manages to barely catch the sergeants blade on his shoulder instead of through his gut. Seeing an opening the remaining guard brings his blade in low slashing across Barnabas thigh in a flash of blood.
As the last warhound is released it like its fallen packmate rushes towards Grumblejack. Grumblejack cries again Good Pupp... RRRRrrrrrrrggggg The ogre screams as the hound leaps into the air and latches onto grumblejacks arms, shaking itself viciously. The ogre hollers flinging his arm and the dog around through the air while attempting to dislodge it.
Meanwhile above on the third floor of the tower the rest of the Forsaken wait anxiously and Ariana's comes to a harsh, shrieking conclusion. As the sorceress finishes her spell, the vellum parchment crumbles to dust. Drawing the power into her, Ariana's hand becomes wreathed in blue motes of light. So foolish to reveal yourself. Ariana hisses again pointing with a single finger towards the open window and the acolyte of Mitra below. So very, very foolish... she mutters as she redirects the claimed power out of her hands and into the night below where it impacts onto the praying priest.
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