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Maelodakh watches Stephanie's artful and well reasoned and researched summary intently for the longest time, nodding at all the right places and making the odd grunt here and there.
She blinks, then shuts her eyes for a fraction of a moment.
"What curse?"
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Miagnik was nothing short of impressed with Stephanie's well thought out plan. Her attention to detail and reasoning were solid and the magical illustrations she wove helped to drive the point in. She'll do well when she's queen. he thought to himself.
He was smiling as she finished and was about to agree with her when Maelodakh spoke first.
Maelodakh watches Stephanie's artful and well reasoned and researched summary intently for the longest time, nodding at all the right places and making the odd grunt here and there.
She blinks, then shuts her eyes for a fraction of a moment.
"What curse?"
His smile dropped immediately. He knew Maelodakh was often distracted with her own thoughts but that question was just... anger shot through him.
"What curse?" He almost whispered. "What curse, Mae?" His volume increased as anger played clearly across his face. The shout caused his scales to shine bright red for a moment, his claws sharpened and his eyes came alight with a ring of fire.
"The curse that Heelggod told us about. The curse that has been here longer than any of us have been alive! The one that keeps the undead coming back! The one that forced us out of our ancestral homes! The one that made your people... No, our people have to live under Dwarven rule! We are trying to end this curse of the Vampire Queen so that everyone can go back to living a safer life. But this is more important for us Mae! Our people, they need this." His tone calmed somewhat near the end of his initial tirade.
"It's not as though it's been the worst living under Dwarven rule but we are very much living oppressed on the Atharosse Empire terms. It's not a life I want to see for our people and one you as a leader of Balor shouldn't want to see either." His gaze, which had been locked on Maelodakh, shot towards Stephanie for a moment as well.
"I have plans Mae. Plans that involve giving my people their own sovereignty and freedom from the Empire. In order to do that, in order to even think of doing that, I have to become King! And in order to become King, we have to stop our people from going to war with the Dwarven Empire. We have to stop Omara, the False King Vardug, the Vampire Queen and whoever else wants this to end in disaster! That is the curse we are trying to end, Maelodakh." When he had finished, his claws returned to normal and his inner fire dimmed back to his normal reddish hue.
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Mae is shocked by Miagnik's outburst. So shocked in fact that she has not a moment to think of how…indecorous…improper and downright treasonous Miagnik has been. She shrinks visibly, and blinks quickly.
"Oh. That curse. Of course."
She begins to wonder how Stephanie being Queen or Miagnik being King would affect her own legitimacy…Her eyes narrow in dire concentration. Then she realizes what she is possibly giving away, and returns to her haughty disposition.
"Well then. What exactly are we waiting for?"
So he wants to be king. Hmphh, wonder if Stephanie will be his queen? He smirks slightly, Perhaps, Mae...now that would a fiery tornado. That could have a litter of ragin' hellions. Trying to break the tension in the room. "Mae with so much happenin' in our lands, a curse has befall'n us, that would be the best explanation." He speaks calmly, not wanting Mae to loose her temper and squash the sorcerer like bug.
"Princess Stephanie you've a guud grasp of th'situation. Let's equip ourselves the best we can, then deal with the gobluns." He eyes the others.
Rownig simply sits and listens without emotion.
Hal packs himself a pipe and watches the others talk, enjoying not being in some dark hole fighting monsters for a change. There was a straightforward element to goblin politics that he appreciated. Even when muddled with false dieties and crazed priests, the solution was still generally "kill them if they aren't doing a good job." In dwarven society it often seemed to be the opposite. The most rotten eggs were the ones that floated. "We're gonna have to deal with Sir Guisse's treachery and the traitors inside the Black Guard at some point too."
"Windel's right. We've secured the aid of these townsfolk and have a plan. We'll rest tonight, then equip ourselves in the morning. Check the Lusson's if there's anything to be found there. Then go back and rescue as many of the captured nobility as we can, and maybe do some more damage to her forces. Afterward we hopefully can end or at least delay the country falling to civil war. Then we'll see about dealing with Sir Guisse and the Black Guard too."
With that he turned and started looking for a place to settle down, then stopped and looked at Atharessa. "Atharessa, we know that Sir Guisse is your liege lord, but when we get to him you'll help us, right?"
*gulp* I don't know about that. They can hang you for striking a noble. We'd have to have some pretty good evidence of his treason before we raised arms against him. Oh, and you probably don't know this but, we'd want to get him away from his estate, that's well defended. And when he travels, it is always with five or more men loyal to him and his family. Now his kids would probably love to see him taken down, and the house's wealth redistributed, but they won't raise a finger to help us. No, we need some good hard evidence, and maybe the support of the Inarossa and Vessocho families for sure.
Miagnik rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, I guess we'll just have to be extra thorough when we go back to the Palace and hope that Omara keeps some sort of record of her associations with Sir Guisse, hopefully as some kind of threat. Moralane, you're actually part of the Vessocho family, you can probably guess Sir Henri's way of thinking best, what are the chances that he'd help us?"
My father? You know he would be so mad at me for telling you this, but secretly he hates Anrollo Guisse, he won't even let that man visit our estate unless our men out number his three to one. But, our family was second to be granted lands in this part of the kingdom, after Guisse, and before Inarossa, and when some of our holdings were given over to Inarossa some said it was because my father spoke out too harshly against the King in his raising of the tariffs and fees on fishing. So, I know my father would not stand in defense of Guisse, but he isn't likely to stand up against him either, unless it was like Atharessa says, and the evidence is strong. As far as the Goblin situation is concerned, all she has to do is ask me, and I will follower her, my father be damned.
Miagnik looked confused for a moment at Moralane's reaction to her own statement, then he followed her gaze toward Stephanie and realization dawned on him...
Wait Moralane too?! He had been unsure about his chances before now. He would still have to pass through the gate protecting the tomb of Outogol. He knew that he couldn't even do so without the witness of 5 other Goblins, he refused to skew tradition by attempting to use the word of Dwarves. He'd need at least 4 more Goblins, and after his outburst against Maelodakh he wasn't sure she'd be interested right now.
After rescuing Stephanie and learning about her study of Magic, he'd hoped, with her Powers and her Goblin blood she would be the one to verify him as a potential King.
She is already a princess, so becoming queen wouldn't be too big of a leap for her. He hadn't considered the fact that she might have other suitors.
He looked at Moralane and glanced at Stephanie. But why wouldn't she? She's a princess, you've known her for seven days. Moralane is the daughter of a Knight of the realm. She has an estate, Lands, power, and wealth. Things that Stephanie is used to having. With Moralane added in he was pretty sure his chances had just fallen drastically.
As Miagnik really took stock of the situation, he went to find himself a space to sit down. What do I have? A small fortune of wealth, but that's it. I've been run out two towns and a work camp, including the Goblin district in the capital. The only one's who know me are my companions, a small secret order, and those who despise me. He hadn't thought much past the goal of becoming a king and now he had realized just how much farther he needed to go.
Stephaine continues to consider things but her smoothly organized mental wheels jerk to a stop on Maelodahk's question.
She glances between Miagnik's firey rebuttal and her sisters questions with a expression of concern and disapproval.
As the rest discuss Stephanie tries to get her mental train back on track, she blushes slightly at Moralane's acceptance of her. Her own expression a slight frown of concentration as she does her best to shelve that for later.
It is so strange, before all this I was just a tag-along for so many things. Both sides of the nobility that my family dealt with treated me with indiffernec, not ignorance. Just a hope that I might go find a corner and die as they simply didn't understand me. Now I have allies that while crude make no mention of my half-blood nature, they treat me like an equal. Now an admirer of my mother from the village and.. and an admirer of my own. What strange wonders the world shows.
Stephhanie makes a small noise to gather attention from the group and glances back to the floor markers. She adds two more to the 'Omara' portion one labeled 'Guisse' and the other 'Black Guard?'
"I'm not sure what we could do for your order Hallister, I have no doubt they might have answers but as they are secretive you would know more about their working than I. I doubt they would want outsiders meddling in their affairs and if restricted to only you and Miagnik I don't know if a little less than a month would let you find the traitors there."
With that Stephanie looks over to the other newly placed image, gaze flickering to Atharessa and Moralane for a few seconds before looking back to the token.
"I doubt my presence would help much in with Dwarven politics, many dwarven nobles consider me a very strange beast, without the threat of displeasing father or mother giving them warts I doubt they would help me much." The gnome states with a frown at the unhappy revelation before continuing "We would need ironclad proof as suggested, the best place to get that would be the Palace. I think for any of our plans heading back and delving deeper is going to the best step forward"
"That's the problem with secret organizations. Hard to know who to turn to when things start gettin' turned around." Hal said with a shrug. "This whole situation's like a bad tomato. It's only just being held together by the skin. Won't take muck to break it open and expose the rot. We just need to keep doin' what we're doin'."
"For right now, I don't know who to trust, so that makes me not want to talk to any of them until I figure this out. At least with Guisse we know who our target is. He should be our next step."
Rownig's deft fingers slide into his tobacco pouch and he pulls out his last cigar. He swallows the remaining stubble of a smoke currently occupying the space then promptly replaces it. He chews the end for a few seconds then meticulously lights the dry end. His vision on the burning ember. Once satisfied, he turns his attention to the group.
"I'm not apart of some super secret society like some of you. But I know Guise is a rott'n tomato." A giant smoke ring wafts towards the ceiling. "I trust Lady Inarossa, but I'm not ready to spill the beans yet. We need more. Too many questions out there, not enough answers." He drawls on the cigar and the ember reddens. "Let's first git some gear, including some tobacco, then check that Lusson fella's home. It may be fate brings back to the dungeon, it may be Guisse's estate, or the goblins. Let's git through tomorrow...first." With that the dwarf sends up two smoke rings the second of which gobbles up the first. He smiles approvingly.
"Agreed then. We get through tomorrow." Miagnik said from his sitting position.
Windel packs his pipe with some loose leaf valley hickory then sparks it. Sitting down near to Miagnik. "Yer alright...bit crazy, but a backbone of iron." He tosses the nearly empty pouch to the goblin. "Dwarbon you've any ale or mead?"
Atharessa and I will stay here, watch over Dwarbon, and the chest, while the rest of you can go into the village proper and get whatever it is you think you need. And probably check out the ruin of that house you were talking about, maybe there is something we can learn from what’s left of the place.
Without any reservation Windel would encourage her to rummage and open the liquor. "Plenty of silver can be left to replace this small kindness." He sniffs the licorice and nods approvingly. He takes a healthy gulp, then visibly relaxes for the first time in days. He takes a second an third swig before he notices anyone else eyeballing him to pass the bottle around. He wipes his mouth and beard with the back of his hand before speaking. "Forgot me manners." He holds the bottle out for the next one.
Toward the end of the night Whiskey barrel hoots at the door until stephaine with a sour look of annoyance opens it. "I'm not opening this again until tomorrow so you can sleep outside if you must hunt tonight. Heaven knows you don't need to sustenance with all the scraps you steal." The owl hoots a few more times and bobs out the door before taking flight and vanishing into the night on silent wings.
When the liquor gets passed around stephaine accepts the bottle with a small gesture and gives the liquid a dainty sniff followed by a disgusted wrinkle of her nose. "That smells like the chemical used to remove char from the inside of a furnace, I have no idea how you all can drink this." The gnome states as she passes the bottle off to the next person.
Stephanie wakes and begins revising her spellbook, massive tome propped up in her lap with her back against one of the homes walls.
"It sounds very much like the town had one of the relics and little more but it will do us no harm to check once we have procured what everyone needs to return to the Palace."
Windel goes outside and finds a clear area and prays to Praggul Strongfist, God of War.
Taking the pouch that Windel had tossed him, he opened it only to realize that he didn't actually have a pipe of his own.
Miagnik let out a small laugh at being called crazy. But ultimately realized that Windel was probably on to something. He, a Goblin with no real power, wealth, or stature, was trying to become king. Despite there still being an active Goblin King.
He looked down at the golden ring glinting on his finger. It was a ring fit for kings. It resonated strongly with him somehow. Someday, someday I'll be worthy as king. First though, I think I'll have to help save the current king and become a hero to our people. Content with that thought he drifted off to sleep.
He awoke stretching and yawning. The night had been relatively peaceful and no strange dreams had assailed him. He took stock of his bag of supplies, noting that he'd want to gather a few basic ingredients before heading out again.
"That plan sounds about right." He said readying his pack "Hopefully we get a better welcome today than we did last night.
"I for one am not going….shopping!" Mae advises no one in particular with some degree of dudgeon.
Seeing as no-one in particular takes any note of her decree, the very-royal scion rolls her noble eyes.
"Oh very well! But then we better head to the estate and sma….find some …. clue-thingies."
Hal woke early but went back to sleep and slept as late as he could. When he finally got up he stretched and went through a number of exercises. There was a lot of wincing and popping of bones involved. Then he changed his shirt, not caring that there were high born ladies present. He made an annoyed face as he looked down at the terrible hand shaped scar on his chest. It looked worse than it had. The pale flesh of the scar was thick and roped like an old burn and the skin around it was bright red and inflamed. He shook his head with a sigh and pulled on a clean shirt.
He was the last one ready to go, but he didn't hold them back. He didn't say much, but nodded at Moralane's plan.
Rownig woke up early unable to sleep, there was something about relative safety that has become unsettling after 9 days of living on the edge. He takes his gear outside so not to disturb anyone and then meticulously brushes, cleans and oils everything. His deft fingers working each moving part until he is satisfied with the results. wonder if these will be able to cut into demons hide. His whetstone slides over the blades of his axes.
"Now that sounds exactly like the sort of things we've been dealing with lately. Good work, Amdelisse. We'll take it from here."
Hal chuckles gruffly and gives Windel a sidelong look. "You ever get the feeling the gods have a sense of humor?"
Mae nods to Hallister.
"I knew there would be things to smash!!! But it had better really BE dry - I am NOT getting wet!"
Windel smirks at Hal, "Sometimes you 'ave ta laugh right back."
Windel walks up to the cleric and introduces himself, "Windel Warhaven humble servant of Praggul Strongfist." He sips from his waterskin. "Wouldn't 'ave a bit of tobacco with you this fine morning?" Clearly his priorities are in order.
Stephanie glances to the goblin princess as they walk "So you want to leave selecting a weapon for you to fight mighty foes up to someone else? It won't be like that time with the dresses, i promise. We are just here for weapons to deal with the creatures in the palace."
When the party arrives and meets the collection of Dwarves from the town Stephanie does her best to not look stiff as she curtsies to the smiths and does similar to the priest who Sheba met yesterday. it is so strange to be the target of attention like this after being so accustomed to nobles snubbing me without moths or father to scare the bigotry out of them. Though I suppose it still is my mothers shadow they see...
Stephanie smiles I the way a noble is expected and keeps her thoughts in her head. Though her face does fall some at hearing about the basement
"Living in interesting times is a dire curse in some cultures. Hopefully this is just coincidence. Also where is that bird of mine? The gnome replies glancing to the skies expectantly on the last portion.
Why have you come?
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Take whatever you desire, but touch me and you will know your doom. I am Askorathgarx, an Eye of the Lakoradak. I do not suffer fools, nor do I tolerate thieves, but as my former jailers are now in my protection, I imagine that what is left of their belongings must pass on to the living. If you take what you want and leave quickly I may not be bothered with taking the time to destroy you.
Miagnik stopped moving as he realized where the sound was coming from. He tried desperately to remember if he had ever heard of anything like this before.
Nothing came to mind. The strange orb like eye held a resonance unlike any he had ever known. It was ancient and powerful, and his instincts were telling him to run.
"We should hurry and leave." he said with a slight strain on his voice.
Stephaine blinks for a moment or two as she takes in the strange sight.
"Wha?"
Hal went cold. "Aye." he said, agreeing with Miagnik. [b]"No one get near it. Don't even talk to it."
hal started picking up things from the floor, not really looking at what he was grabbing, keeping his eyes on the eye. He pocketed or passed back everything he could moving with a wary efficiency.
"I'm fine gabbing a few items and well...leaving soon, if you get my meaning." Keeping a wary eye on the orb. Quickly detecting magic on the some of the items, but not on the orb. He directs Rownig and the other if anything pops up magical.
Rownig is cautious but his curiosity gets the better of him, "So, you've taken jailer under your protection? Are they otherwise known as the Lusson's?" He eyes some of the debris around the room. "We mean you know wrong...how did you come to be in this charred estate?" He stops a second and responds to the initial question, "We are simply investigating the ruins."
Stephaine makes a strangled noise as she examines the eye. Her expressive eyes dilating before she slides down the nearest wall to sit on the floor.
"I thought it was a joke, but it has to be a curse. A lich. Not just that a lich of legend, The Eye of Woe, Talifran's bane, Askorathgarx. A condensed lich, Raw unmitigated evil might. Why now when we have so many other things to worry over?" The mage mutters, obviously frightened by even the idea of what is locked in that cage.
The Lussons, yes, Petrokov and Sacha. They are mine now, a small price to pay for the things I gave them access to, Rownig Fleetfoot. It would seem that at least you, among your friends have no fear, but it is so obvious why. Ignorance is as they say, bliss, is it not? How did I come to be here? It is a reasonable question. I was once placed deep in the mountain below the place your kind call the Palace of the Vampire Queen. For a thousand years I lay there undisturbed until a goblin carried me away. I liked the little fellow, he was curious, intelligent, determined, but in the end, careless, and I passed from one hand to another. Ah, there was a time when I would abolish any who dared to think they could possess me, but this was a different time and my curiosity stayed my temper. Finally, I was brought here, by an ancestor of Sacha. HE worshipped me, and begged me for power, but I denied him, and let my secrets unavailable to him torture his mind until in the end he sacrificed everything to me and in return I gave him a wish. He squandered it of course, the end was much worse than I could have given him, if I cared, but his soul passed into the dark realm. When I choose to visit him it is not to gloat, but to pity his stupidity.
The ball rolls away from Rownig, and looks at Stephanie, and it is almost as if a great sigh escapes from somewhere and then the eye returns to Rownig
You use the word investigate as if you know what it means, but you do not. If you understood what is before you, you would not need to investigate. It…is…odd
The voice trails off for a moment, grows faint as a whisper
Rownig Fleetfoot, hero of Inarossa, know me, and know this, I see everything, I know much, and I care little. What I granted the Lussons was beyond your understanding and in return they gave me their souls. I possess hundreds of souls. These souls are bound to me by rituals made freely, and no God or Power of any other plane will challenge me for them. I use them to see into every world, every plane, and every dimension. They are I and I am all these and more. In my youth I demanded they worship me, and in my youth I set myself above all living things. I feasted upon the bodies of my enemies, countless thousands died at a single one of my thoughts. Time meant nothing to me, until time itself became my only friend.
Ah, yes, time, and what I have seen of time. I once would have robbed your minds the very instant you set your eyes upon me, and for what purpose? What exist that I cannot see? Nothing, and nothing, forever and ever, and so in time I became less interested in doing and more interested in seeing, until the seeing became all that there is, all that will be. I see all, I know much, and I care little, but for this time, I will spare your lives, you may stay or go, as you desire. When you leave here you will speak of me, and some will try to possess me. I will entertain them.
Hal grits his teeth as he picks up the books, looking suddenly quite angry, but he does not say anything.
Windel open up the cabinet sling the shield over his back, The uses a bit of burlap to slip the wand and then the ring in his pouch. Backing up he cringes, Voices in me head I need to pray. "I...I think, I'm guud 'er." He glances towards the door.
A small voice suddenly pipes up, growing louder.
"I've had just about as much as of this fool."
Maelodakh plants her feet on the ground, and strikes a dominant pose before the altar the eye rests upon. She makes a grand show of looking the thing up and down.
"You talk a lot, and with much... bravura. I disdain bullies, and…bodiless entities that proclaim much power. You may have much power. And knowledge. But what of friends? Or understanding from other entities. From where I'm standing you're just a gobbledy, sad little maniacal eye inhabiting a dank cellar in the arse end of nowhere. Threatening visitors and lording over cobwebs and other assorted vermin. How does that sit with your chthonic plans for world domination?"
She turns on her heel, showing the creature her back.
"It talks to me. [here taps head with one sooty fingernail] In here. It compels me…to buy stuff? I do not like it. At all. "
I – suppose