Farrukh is kind of at a loss for what to do with actual free time.
Assuming Eben doesn't die in the carriage ride on the way home, he proposes Farrukh spend his unexpected free time coming on a very likely weird fishing trip with him and Lowri.
As socially awkward as Farrukh is, even he looks askance at this.
"You want me to come along on a private liaison between you and your long distance girlfriend you see once a month or so?"
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Eben possibly says, "It's not private, like a date or anything. I don't think. She mentioned Mahuudril might be there? And said something about recruiting some brawny friends to help out. I mean, that's you. And I think there's a good chance Mahuudril's an evil mastermind, and she's scary even if I'm reading the cues wrong anyhow, so there's that...."
Or, in the other quantum reality created by an unresolved failed saving throw, he continues to sit there staring vacantly ahead, bobbing up and down to the motions of the carriage with no actual muscle control, due to rigor mortis setting in and all.
Astraden grimaces. She's left her prosthetic metal teeth in. "I don't like Mahuudril. Someone who pals around with Smenk like that... Never a good sign. Be careful out there, Eben."
She turns to Farrukh. "You could also help figure out what we need to be ready for the next trip. It looks like we might need to go to the Wormcrawl Fissure after this. And we've got Zyrxog following us, and that evil Count guy, I think he was a vampire or something? We should have some countermeasures ready for if we run into them."
"Good, dragon fighting it much more up my alley. Whenever we retire, we have to come back here and start a revolution. Maybe we can install ourselves as benevolent rulers afterwards."
Once Carina finishes her dance, she pulls Tanith aside.
"Tanith? How are you feeling right now?" She asks, visibly worried.
Astraden nods. "Hopefully by then we'll have Lashonna standing by us, too. We should see about watering the seeds of the revolution while we're here - seeing if we can help out those guys who poisoned me, or maybe make friends with that Captain Volerats guy. Or Kilraven, for that matter." She waggles her eyebrows furiously at Carina and Tanith, the effect exacerbated by the bumping of the carriage wheels on cobblestone.
"Guys?" Carina swallows, pointedly ignoring Astraden's eyebrow-waggling.
"While I was dancing with Lady Kilraven, she mentioned that I might have avoided the 'Redhand Ikrus'--apparently, its a kind of poison distilled from dire sea urchin venom."
"Do you think we've been poisoned or something?"
Tanith slows the pair's dance as he considers Carina's question. "I'm pretty full. The cruelty involved in each course didn't ruin my appetite as much as I'd thought."
Hearing Carina's warning about poison, Tanith's brow furrows in worry. "Wouldn't we know if we were poisoned by now?"
"I don't know--I forgot to ask Lady Kilraven about that..." Carina buries her head in her hands.
"...dammit, how could I have been that STUPID? She was RIGHT THERE, and I forgot to ask her the most bloody obvious question!"
Astraden shrugs. "I feel fine!"
"Ew, poison. I feel alright too. Maybe she was just messing with you?"
She turns to Farrukh. "You could also help figure out what we need to be ready for the next trip. It looks like we might need to go to the Wormcrawl Fissure after this. And we've got Zyrxog following us, and that evil Count guy, I think he was a vampire or something? We should have some countermeasures ready for if we run into them."
"That sounds a little more my speed. Have fun Eben!"
Farrukh spends some time doing research on vampires and other things that go bump in the night.
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As Astraden speaks, Zalamandra follows close behind, demurely correcting Astraden's mispronunciations and misspeaks. "The Marquis of Ravenstone, and he was a true ghoul. Captain Vulras. Astraden, darling, you heard her name, I don't know why you're pronouncing it like 'kill ravine'."
"Even I knew he was a Marquis," Korush complains. "And I'm not even... wait, did you say he wasn't a vampire? Drat, I'll need to contact my publisher."
Zalamandra ignores Korush, patting Carina on the shoulder. "Carina, you absolutely mustn't hold it against yourself! At least we now know about the Ikrus. And the good news is, I don't believe any of us angered the Prince until after dessert!"
After reacquiring their things, the group departs the Palace at last and heads back to the Deluxury. Korush, or 'Sir Sapphire', bids his adieu, though he promises to meet with the party again before they leave town. "And since I seem to have found something of an 'in' in Alhaster's high society at last, thanks in no small part to you seven, I'll see if I can put that to good use!" He flashes a confident grin. "As a Genie of the Material, I am bound by my heart more than any element, and you lot need all the help you can get. I'll sending you if I catch a whiff of anything untoward!"
And after a round of unsolicited hugs, his form shimmers, and he disappears into thin air. Loud footsteps are heard as the invisible janni hurries away.
With their business with Redhand's nobility concluded at last—at least for now—the party parts ways, with Astraden off to the Angry Rifter and the rest ready for their last night in the Deluxury's Ebony Wing.
When the morning comes, Tanith and Cuetzpalli are surprised during their exercise routine by the overpowering smell of lavender.
"I think," chokes out a weak voice, "I... might have made a small faux pas when speaking with Hemriss."
A very, very ill-looking Zalamandra has joined them. To say she looks unwell is an understatement—her flesh has partially necrotized overnight. She's basically drenched herself in perfume to smother the stench of death she awoke to. One of her eyes has rotted white, and her hair is falling out in clumps.
She requires help getting to Astraden immediately. The Redhand Ikrus has run its course, but she's barely holding together right now.
Eben sits at the breakfast table, holding his head in his hands miserably. "What do they put in c'rosch, anyway?" he whimpers, occasionally sniping at passersby for making too much noise. When Zalamdra arrives, he looks up, irritably. "Oh, like you've got problems, I'm hung over!" he snaps, then re-evaluates the situation. "Okay, you do got problems," he admits, reluctantly. "And yeah, Hemriss had the Prince order his servants to slip something in your food. Didn't you see me point and wink? It was super-obvious, I thought. I mean, I figured worst case scenario it'd be like, farting powder or something, not some kinda rotting poison..." The fact that he's simply sitting there, still cradling his pounding head, and talking in a blase fashion perhaps shows that Spiny's Six has very different standards for what constitutes horrifying.
Cuetzpalli blanches when he sees Zalamandra. "You look like I felt last night. Let's get you to Astraden right away!"
Oh, that was what you meant by pointing and winking?" Zalamandra's tone is about as acidic as a black dragon's breath. "Because I could swear that's the exact same sort of cornball gesture you make when Carina and Mr. Creed think they're being subtle about a liaison. It's not as though pointing at the food could have been clearer."
Carina yawns and rubs her aching head when she emerges from her room. "...what smells like lavender?"
Then she notices Zalamandra and her... complexion. "Oh." She blinks a couple of times.
"Right. Give me a minute and I'll whip something up to fix it." She disappears back into her room to work on an extract of restoration.
Once she's done, she brings out a flask filled with twinkling orange fluid. She hands it off to Zalamandra. "Bottom's up."
"I mean, I usually throw in some snickering when it's Tanith and Carina getting it on in a corner. I'd think the difference obvious..." Eben mutters after being chastised.
Seeing Zalamandra's state, Tanith winces.
"Wait, Lady Kilraven told you it's normal for the Prince to poison his guests? Why do people go to these things?"
"Because they're forced to, is my best guess. Lady Kilraven certainly seemed to be, at least."
"Maybe it's the thrill of not knowing if you'll get poisoned or not. Like those people that eat the fish that's super poisonous if it's not prepared right."
Astraden stomps into the Deluxury breakfast rooms a bit late, ready to chow down on yet another free meal. She's stopped and questioned by Qual, and the pary can hear her laughing and then sees her head back out towards the entrance. A couple minutes later, "Shan" appears behind Eben, immediately speaking far too loudly for his sensitive head."Good MORNING, everyone! Hey Zalamandra, you're looking good. New hairstyle?"
Once someone tells him Astraden was joking about researching the Count Marquis, Farrukh sighs and is resigned to going on the awkward fishing trip with Eben.
"Speaking of poisonous stuff, what was with you guys racing to see who would eat the purple worm first? It's like you guys WANTED to get poisoned. I guess it's ironic one of the only people did is one of the few who didn't want to be, actually."
Astraden sprays out a mouthful of ill-gotten coffee. "Poisonous stuff? Should I be worried?" She starts mopping up the coffee with a napkin, but it's one of those super silky napkins that doesn't actually soak up anything and she mostly just spreads the liquid around on the floor. "Though, I feel like I was fine last time this happened, so."
"Anybody know where the library is here? Maybe they have different books than Greyhawk."
"It will have to be a new hairstyle," Zalamandra says grimly, downing Carina's extract. She smiles gratefully as the tissue damage recedes, her healthy flush returning almost instantly. Her hair does not grow back. "Thank you, Carina, darling. Eben, I trust you can provide me with a list of recommended Free City barbers?"
Once she has her list, Zalamandra is quite eager to take everyone to the Free City right after breakfast. "Where to?"
Eben noticeable cringes as Astraden uses her outdoor voice indoors, but otherwise just concentrates of finishing his eggs. "Don't think anything's poisoned here, just that apparently the prince and Hemriss decided Zalamandra was a problem worth eliminating. Or maybe they just had a 'poison the guests' quota they needed to meet." He waves a forkfull of scrambled egg at Farrukh. "And I, personally, didn't take a bite of that purple worm stuff until after I'd seen you swallow it and not keel over. Well, actually, I was waiting on you, but then Carina started inhaling her plate like I'd cast haste on her or something. But maybe she wasn't a good example because she ingests weirder stuff every day." He pushes his empty plate aside, being less of the 'queasy hangover' type and more the 'throbbing headache' sort. "No, boss, I don't have a list of barbers, I don't go to 'barbers', half the guys in the free city are crazy and slit your throat and bake you into meat pies. I do know some top hair salons, though..."
"Iunno, I've barely been in Alhaster. We could see if Miomay has anything? Like a collection of banned books, I mean. I think we might have better luck in Greyhawk, though."
Astraden's eyes widen as Zalamandra's normal hue returns. "Oh, s%#&, that wasn't intentional? Ouch. Good thing Carina was here!" She sits up at the table and starts sneaking food from Cuetzpalli's plate.
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"No, boss, I don't have a list of barbers, I don't go to 'barbers', half the guys in the free city are crazy and slit your throat and bake you into meat pies."
"So what you are telling me is that once a barber gave you a bad haircut and you couldn't haggle them down afterward. Or... I suppose maybe once a baker served you a very mediocre meat pie. Equally possible." Zalamandra pauses. "Sorry. I'll take the salon list."
The Research Trip, Pt. 1
Farrukh and Astraden dedicate their "day off" to browsing the Free City's collection of libraries, a shopping montage without any actual purchases.
Farrukh can find no mention of Ravenstone, but he does find snippets of an article, or rather, a meeting transcript from the now-defunct Monster Hunter's Association—a meeting in which the Association was visited, post-posthumously, by a former member. The transcript snippets are entitled "Accounts From Wrennar's Expedition", and tell a grisly story of an alliance of several adventuring parties venturing down into the Underdark—and being welcomed by the shadow ghouls with open arms. They were guaranteed safe passage into the city of "Glimmerfell" by a chivalrous lieutenant, and learned much from the city's governess—only to realize that they had secured no such guarantee for their exit.
From what he can find, Glimmerfell is located within something called "the White Kingdom", and can be found beneath the center of the Hellfurnaces. It's quite far away, it seems—a lot closer to Kuluth-Mar than Greyhawk.
As far as she can tell, tieflings tend to come in two "varieties", which are similar in appearance but very different in spirit. Some tieflings are "in step", and some are "out of step".
In-step tieflings are born with their fiendish and mortal halves blended together. They possess a single mortal soul, whether it be good or bad, but struggle from a closer connection to their fiendish ancestor—for instance, a tiefling descended from (or tainted by) a hezrou finds themselves more drawn to alchemy, drugs and poisons.
Out-of-step tieflings are different, and rarer—but, it seems, quite common for tieflings not descended from tanar'ri or baatezu. These tieflings possess a "shadow soul", something like a parasite, or a fraternal twin. This fiendish essence never leaves them, clinging to their mind and soul like a tumor. It can sometimes exert control in dangerous ways, and Astraden runs into several stories of tiefling sorcerers accidentally wielding their powers to harm those close to them. The shadow soul is universally full of vitriol and resentment, and Astraden can find no evidence of ways to remove it without also killing the tiefling. This has not stopped people from trying.
Separate from Carina's form, the False Carina might have a much more visibly yugoloth-like form, or it might be a palette swap with more evil-looking clothes. By default, though, it should not have a body at all. The shadow doesn't have enough incarnum to sustain its very existence alone. Like a house with three walls and no roof, it literally can't hold itself together. Not for long, anyways.
Farrukh, however, finds one scrap of new information in a dark corner of the Alhaster pawnshop—a little torn up book entitled, The Complaete History of Incarnum. Some decades ago, an unassuming Vecnan researcher named Bellevue Sweeps reportedly pulled off some sort of "soul cut", successfully severing his connection to an "unwanted" half. He might have been a tiefling, though it's unclear, as a mouse has chewed up much of the introduction. All Farrukh is certain of is that he lived in Alhaster at some point.
Regardless, Bellevue did not have long to celebrate. Only a year passed before he realized his body was beginning to break down, collapse, like rising dough taken too quickly out of the oven. His mortal soul somehow was too weak to sustain its own body without the "unwanted half", and he was forced to turn to even darker practices in his scramble to survive.
Unfortunately, it appears the mouse has struck again, and the book next picks up with a bunch of bad poems for some reason.
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Carina drops by Magepoint with Farrukh and Astraden, but instead of going to the library, she goes to the All-Seeing Eye. The tavern is doing good business, and she has to squeeze past a lot of people to get to the more private lounge area. There, she finds Eligos and Celeste chatting with a familiar hooded person with pale eyes—the disguised Clunk.
Eligos, now sporting a grandiose red beard befitting his new dwarven form, seems in good spirits. Celeste is significantly crankier, the disguised eladrin clearly not getting along with her kolyarut acquaintance. They are happy to see Carina, though. Even Clunk nods and indicates her "presence is more beneficial than harmful to the social dynamics currently at play."
Her query, however, has them flummoxed. "What, comprehend languages didn't work?" Celeste blinks. "Geez, wait 'til Manzorian learns about this. Magic foiled again!"
"Well, of course the spell doesn't work on Avolakia," Eligos says, the loremaster's expression mildly queasy as he takes the papers from Carina and looks over her notes. "Avolakia are barely even considered 'alive' to begin with. They're literal cancers, viruses, even. They don't take in information like we do, and it doesn't come out like it should. Avolakia isn't a language, it's an ink blot."
He splays the papers out over the table, much to Celeste's displeasure. "It can be done. It's just...hm. A lot here, isn't there? Hm..."
Carina ends up spending the day comparing notes with Eligos, painstakingly comparing context clues and struggling to interpret the hieroglyphics and curved tangles of totally alien minds. With his help, and the occasional annoyed interjections of Celeste and Clunk—who have their own knowledge of the horrible creatures, it seems. "They raise undead like you raise cattle. I ran into one on my last mission down south. Horrible bastard. Smelled like a flooding graveyard." Celeste shudders. "It was just one, but it had gang of bodaks under its control. I think it was trying to take over a Fharlanghn waypost. If Cymria hadn't been with me for that one, I might have been a goner."
A recurring theme in the prayers is the mention of a ceremony known as the Ravenous Awakening. This ritual involves the animation of huge numbers of undead who are then led like pigs into vast banquet halls where they present themselves to the feasters to be cut apart and consumed.
While the avolakia worship Kyuss above all things as the Herald of the Age of Worms, they also believe that his power is waxing. It gets a bit figurative from there, but from her implanted memories from Kuluth-Mar, Carina can read between the lines to interpret what the avolakia mean: Thousands of years ago, Kyuss ascended to godhood, but found himself trapped in a stone monolith at the very cusp of his triumph. Several hundred years later, the carvings say, Kyuss escaped his prison and nearly brought about the Age of Worms, but he was unable to maintain his advance on the living world for more than a few short months. His armies were defeated by a force the avolakia only refer to as "the Enemy", which forced him back into his godly prison. The avolakia hate this Enemy, and long to hunt down its remnants, but allude to it somehow eluding them at every turn.
More obscure mentions include references to a location phonetically called "Mm-THESS-kuss", or, by the name the pictographs suggest, the Writhing Tabernacle. This is, according to the writings, the most holy site of Kyuss to the avolakia.
Mention is also made of four major figures in the faith:
First, an avolakia named "Mother Maggot" is mentioned. Little is specified about her, save one description Eligos translates as "the most complex knot of all of us". Mother Maggot seems to be something like a leader, and it is indicated that she was in charge of affairs in Alhaster for all of Kyuss's dealings with mortals—working in service of "Wyrm With No Shadow".
Second, their great ally, the "Voice of Kyuss", the Consort of the Five-Faced One, Keeper of Oaths, the eternal dragon Dragotha. A deathless wyrm is referenced frequently throughout the pictographs, often referring to her as lacking a "shadow". Perhaps it means she is unrivaled among her kind.
Third, the Harbinger of Worms is mentioned in passing as the "seed of our prophecies".
Fourth, the "Hero of the Pit", whose hubris will ensure the greatest of all gifts to the Dead. Interestingly, the way the pictographs can be read, "the Pit" could also be translated as "the Stone"—as in, peach pit, peach stone—or "the Fall".
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Tanith/Cuetzpalli:
When they arrive by teleport in Midnight's Muddle, the party barely even recognizes what once was the lair of the Festering One. With Tanith's investments, the support of local Kordian leader Yenaver Graveltoes, and the hearty efforts of Tigri (and her fellow survivors of the Teeth of Kord, Louse and Marta), the shrine is not only a beautiful monument, it is packed on this busy morning with worshipers, fitness enthusiasts, and locals who just want the free protein bars.
The building exterior is humble—not far from Anlathi's garden shrine, the only decorations on the outside are vines and wildflowers climbing up the walls. It gives the place a look somewhat resembling an old ruin. Next to the entrance stands a large boulder, with a large brass plaque simply reading, KORD. Above the plaque has been carved the eight-pointed symbol of Kord.
Inside, the shrine descends partially underground into a spacious, well-ventilated exercise area, with private rooms for those who require more peace, several sparring rings, assortments of wooden weapons to practice with, and, of course, plenty of simpler equipment for the less violence-oriented fitness nut. One of the walls has been designed so that people can try to climb up it, as though climbing a cliffside. Strangely, the floor is covered in designs of bulging eyes, and contains an unusual number of locked trapdoors.
Tanith and Cuetzpalli run into a somewhat familiar face on the way inside—the luckless homeless mute man who they saved from both Zyrxog and Bozal Zahol, who Tanith promised to put in a good word for with Tigri, is now helping out as a spotter. He smiles and high-fives Tanith, nodding respectfully to Cuetzpalli.
Tigri herself throws her two greatswords onto the floor and rushes forward, nearly breaking Tanith's hand with the enthusiasm of her welcome. "You were right!" she declares, grinning. "Things are going well, Tanith. Very well! Anlathi, the druid, bakes us excellent bars to test our faith in our jars, and that unpleasant naked man helped us magic the floors against unwanted intruders. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to keep the Rocksmashing Cave, so downstairs is just where shrine keepers sleep. We might install a pool, but there are, um, legal issues with underground pools, so that is not a current priority."
She invites Tanith and Cuetzpalli to spar with her gang, or, alternatively, to try some rock climbing. Considering they're clearly leaving their adventuring days behind them, Teeth of Kord loses the sparring matches by a mile, but Tigri's exceptional upper-body strength gives her the edge in scaling the wall. All the while, though, she seems a little distracted. As it turns out, she has a warning for them.
"I think you'd best know," she says, walking over towards the tainted ground. "The real reason we do not install a pool, or do anything here, is that there are concerns over the lingering corruption of the Festering One. It is a bad business, what happened here, the people dead, the fires. We have not been able to consecrate it yet. And I have been having dreams. I think the dreams are about you two.
"In my dreams, I see a great giant, a mighty skald of Kord, leading a troupe of other giants like him as if off to battle. But as they march, they become stuck. At first, I think it is shadow webbing. Then I realize it is with pitch, as from the blades of Pitch Blade." Her eyes narrow. The dwarves killed a good chunk of her party when they fought in the Games. "I move to help him, but the pitch begins to burn, and I hear them screaming. The fire turns green. The burning pitch turns into writhing worms." She swallows. "It spreads towards me. I run. It always catches me.
"But then there is a bright light. Five motes appear around me, and they sear the worms away. I hear the voice of Tanith Creed, I hear a dinosaur's screech, and I see that." She points to Kelmarchen, avoiding eye contact. "Everything goes dark. Everything goes silent. Except you, Tanith. I hear you say something like... 'At the end of the Age of Worms, a Hero of Pitch shall gift a city to the Dead.'"
She grimaces. Her foot taps the floor. "I am sorry if this is something you have heard before, or if it makes no sense. But from what I know of previous owners of my new house, they were very interested in the Age of Worms. Afraid of it. I... know you are, too. Interested, anyways. If you're ever in trouble, just remember: If you know what strength means, you can always trust Kordians to help you. Giants and great beasts will be on our side in the storm to come. I know it."