There is a gnomish device, something you once heard called a Dr. Nokker's Ponderous Door Knocker . It comes with a disposable canister of energy called a Charge, and it's supposed to open any door, especially warded ones... you're just not sure if this is really a door, per se. You'll need a gnome to help use it though. You feel like you're going to bend something importantjust looking at it.
Kyrillosr sprints back to where he started, to the sight of Muirkhom and Gulirk speaking with an ifrit. He assumes that there's a reasonable explanation for why they were doing this, but he would find out later. For now, he wanted to convey the state of the village.
"I saw the village," he says in his mesmerizing hippocampus voice. "It's blown up, and full of gaps. The whole place looks like a figment of someone's imagination, and not a good imagination at that."
"It seems that some fire-related being is responsible for much of the damage. Does anyone know what it might have been?"
"First thin' ta tell ya - pyrite looks like gold, but ain't gold. If ya've got some on ya, it protects ya from gold too. Second - that stuff is pyrite." Muirkhom pauses. "What are ya interested in if not gold, exactly? I mean, ya wouldn't be the first ta claim that."
-------
What was - wait, he saw that earlier...that was- "Kyrill, ya pick yer damn moments." Muirkhom grinds his teeth.
He leans toward Gul and Kreza and starts whispering. "I think I have somethin' that could get ya out, but I'm gonna need a gnome ta work it. Also, it'll only work once an' it was meant for doors, but ya take what ya can get. Gul, ya think ya can get one'a the gnomes to go alon' wi' this? If they're all slavin' bastards an' not jus' mostly slavin' bastards, then we're goin' ta 'ave ta trick 'em or somethin'."
Muirkhom casts his eye through the assembled gnomes, seeing if any of them didn't quite seem to happy with what the bastard that was at the head of them was saying.
Anamika, the prostitute, looks almost relieved when you tell her what you have in mind, and she gets to work immediately, keeping you and LASaROS relaxed and comfortable to say the least.
Mumei, the trapper, finds a few of her old non-believer friends and starts gathering travel supplies. She doesn't hop to the task with the same vim as Anamika, but she at least looks comfortable carrying out your compassionately worded orders.
Ferdinand, the beggar, smiles ingratiatingly and tries to ignore Anamika. As a professional beggar, it would seem the elf has had a relatively comfortable lifestyle. Talking people out of their money is a trade he's quite well-equipped for. He's, perhaps, less faithful than the others, but recognizes a long con when he sees one, and is absolutely full of compliments for yourself and Lassiter. When you suggest he make friends with the villagers, he winks and taps his nose with one thin forefinger.
Kyrillosr is the only would-be adventurer in a position to help either of you. Krenin is busy with what has now become a deep foot massage and chiropractic realignment.
Dismayed at the ever-gruff dwarf's response to his important discovery, Kyrillosr looks for someone else to tell. Noticing Gulirk's precarious position, he lends her a paw, but he was too weak to weak to pull her out of the acid. Now worn out, he gives up.
"Muirkhom? Would you be willing to leave the red thing alone for a while to help Gulirk up?"
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"The red thin's called Kreza, an' when the gnomes jus' called 'im a walkin' crime'a arson, I don't need ya comin' in sayin' what ya jus' did."
Muirkhom breaks from examining the gnomes to look to Gul. "'elp 'er up? She seems fine ta me."
His gaze continues to go round. Lot of fangers on the walls, in pyrite shackles. No reason for anyone to be left like that, not bound in pyrite anyway, unless...a gold purge? Ya only do that when thin's get really bad, but it works. The one that jus' woke up must'a jus' finished his. Never seen a fanger willin' ta get purged, an' 'e was probably too far gone ta allow it, but 'e might jus' 'ave 'is senses back now 'e's done. 'ell, I might jus' find a fanger 'ere that ain't a condescendin' bastard or somethin'.
He looks at the one currently straining at the shackles. "'ey, cool it. Yer alright, though I bet yer 'ungry after so lon'. Ya feelin' better for a purge?"
Kyrillosr continues tugging at Gulirk to no effect as he continues to speak.
"I confess that I'm not familiar with fire elementals, but Kreza looks awfully like what I would imagine one to be, especially considering the heat radiating near here."
Kyrillosr tried to understand what Muirkhom might be thinking. Had Kreza told Muirkhom something he didn't know? Was one of them exposed to too much gold? Was his own partiality compromised when he partook of the gnomes' bread?
"I'm not making accusations, of course, but with all due respect, from what I saw outside, the gnomes might have been right in their appraisal."
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Muirkhom's head whips over to Kyrillosr. "Ya do agree wi' the lot who think elementals commit a crime of That wasn't a statement about , it was a statement about If ya were a bit more watery, they'd be pointin' fingers at ya too!"
"For all I know, they ruined the place so they could blame it on 'im! Ya said it was someone's imagination, didn'tcha? They could jus' be imaginin' it like that so they can blame it on 'im, then fixin' it up in their 'eads later so it's like it never 'appened after they've chained 'im up! Apparently we turned a man into an octo-god jus' by sayin' 'e wasn't dead, so is it really that ridiculous?!"
What Muirkohm can piece together about the history of the shackles is that there must have been a gold purge well before the doomed Midas revival took residence in this cathedral. It’s a good sign for the area. Any touched here are a relatively recent development, and won’t have the deep roots found in places like Fellmont.
Also, you’re right. It’s just as likely someone fabricated the evidence of past events, either through guile or force of will. Scanning through the present gnomes… weren’t there three? Where is Emma?
It’s then that Kyrillosr tackles Muirkohm, pulling him out of the way of the chained fanger… and into an acid trap.
Nearby, Gulirk finds herself triggering another such trap, and jets of acid shoot from the corners of both tiles. Gulirk, Muirkohm, Umlur, Kyrillosr, and two of the imprisoned are hit.
The attention of the villagers focuses on those in the hall, gasping and ooing. Morale is still up, and some are still buzzed.
Then, the second of this structure’s poorly- designed traps shows its profound inability to keep anyone safe. The two emaciated prisoners hit by acid collapse to the ground, their shackles falling apart as the sulfur separates from the iron. One other prisoner gets an arm free, but is otherwise still firmly attached to the wall.
As will through action can change the future...in this place, the past is just as malleable through will alone. Gul knows that intent can be divined in both cases. Lassiter's boots prove that LASaROS knew we were walking into a trap, and said nothing. And Kreza knew we were walking into a trap to free the elemental and said nothing. Betrayers! Papa was right
Gul Fights for her life, starting with the closest vamp.
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"KYRILL, THE 'ELL!" Muirkhom feels the acid burn, and is decidedly unhappy with the...whatever he is right now.
But even less so with Gulirk. He was so, so disappointed with her right now.
Also, furious.
"Gul, are ya LISTENIN' to yerself? How'd 'e betray ya?! At least Kreza warned ya ta be careful where ya were goin'! And 'ow was anyone supposed ta know the fangers would wake up either?!"
"Hell, Papa-" Muirkhom spits toward some of the acid. "-let ya do everythin', and is standin' there right now If we're callin' anyone a betrayer, 'ow about the one and is currently "
"Or, if ya want more options, we've got Em, who is ta be seen an' seems ta be "
Muirkhom walks back to the rest of the group, utterly ignorant of further acid tiles or escaping dhampir, ending up relying on his fortitude to take anything that comes to him.
"" Muirkhom stomps ever closer. "Why are ya jus' Ya plannin' ta wait until they come runnin' ta feast on ya, or do ya jus' want ta watch someone suffer before ya do anythin'? And while I'm at it!" He points to Lemongrass. "You. Yer worthless slavin' elementalist scum. Ya know that, don't ya? No? "
"When I 'eard gnomes were a race that only see value in others so much as they can put 'em ta work, I thought they were exaggeratin'. Ya were even more 'ated than goblins. The only ones I didn't see complainin' about gnomes were livin' with 'em!"
"Well, ya sure showed them! Ya showed 'em yer jus' as bad as they say, an' then even worse on top! If yer what gnomes 'ave ta offer, then it seems jus' right that yer one'a the most folk ta walk the land!"
[dice=DD CHA because they probably need convincing they should be ashamed and to submit to reality as Muirkhom angrily believes it/"That's right, everyone's convinced yer scumbags, even the fangers"]2d6[/dice]
Muirkhom stands, whackin' stick in hand and glaring at just about everyone nearby. "But that's enough'a that! There a gnome 'ere willin' ta try an' be the scum people think ya are, or are ya happy bein' self-servin' bastards?"
"An' ta the rest'a ya - do ya REALLY want ta wait until the fangers get ya, or are ya goin' ta They are , an' after so long chained up an' bein' purged they are goin' ta be An' it won't matter where ya run, because they can smell ya, and ya smell delicious right now. Are ya gonna take that, or are ya goin' ta "
It’s then that Kyrillosr tackles Muirkohm, pulling him out of the way of the chained fanger… and into an acid trap.
It’s then that Kyrillosr tackles Muirkohm, pulling him out of the way of the chained fanger… and into an acid trap.
The injured dhampir is just above Kyrillosr. A bit Close for missile weapons, but you're out of his Hands. Might do better softening up the one Near the end of the hall, behind the oblivious Muirkohm who is more responsible than ever for the acid trap that got him.
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He points to Lemongrass. "You. Yer worthless slavin' elementalist scum. Ya know that, don't ya? No? "
Master knows slaver scum when he sees it.
Master knows slaver scum when he sees it.
"Gul, I hope ya don't mean anythin' by that, since yer the one who won't let me wipe off yer debt in the first place! I'd call yer debt off if ya'd let me! Jus' say so, an it's gone! Or did I say somethin' stupid before this mess that I don't remember? Somethin' that makes ya not want ta write it off?"
"I promise ya right now, ya tell me ya want yer debt gone, it's , jus' like that. It won't cost ya anythin' - ya won't have ta do anythin', give me anythin', nothin'. I don't even like ownin' someone! It ain't right! But , in lands, the only option for someone wi' as much debt as ya've racked up wi'out doin' somethin' 'orrible ta ya is havin' someone own ya! An' I sure weren't letting the bastards that 'ijacked the casino 'ave their way wi' ya!"
"Actually, ya know what? I don't know why I was listenin' ta ya about this. Yer debts are wi' me alone, an' I don't know why I thought I needed yer permission ta do the thin' I'm supposed ta do! If ya can't tell me why yer better off in my debt, I'm gettin' rid'a it right now, "
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Do you think Midas could create without applying law to chaos? A contract is the same., It is the difference between civilization and anarchy. You created the contract. You set the terms. And we entered into a promise. Breaking it, is to spit into the face of Midas. A sin. Only an animal can ignore it's past. Only a fool can think he can talk away his responsibility.
Break the contract if you like, but it does not mean you can escape the shame that you so readily heaped on my father.
The dhampirs break free, she can hear it. Old ones, left alone. Imazael turns her eyes toward the crowd, assembled before the ancient prison. Why would the Raven's Children imprison us? she wonders, scanning the crowd as a hunter.
Kyrillosr, totally confused with the chaos surrounding him, tries to get out of the way of the acid trap, but nevertheless stumbles into it.
Seeing a dhampir above him, he swipes with his claw, but is unfortunately not proficient enough in it yet.
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" unity! It's co'erency! It's when folks get alon' wi'out bein' pieces'a "
"Law can make order, but order don't need bloody law, an' usually gets by bloody law! Ya think the octopus makes law? 'e doesn't. If 'e made law, thin's would look a lot more peachy for 'im. But 'e does make order! 'e's not able ta make much right about now, but 'e can make 'ell, that 'e can't do it 'imself jus' makes the point! There ain't no law about it, but some'a these folks, they see what 'e could do. An' they give 'im what 'e needs ta do it! Selfish? Sure, it's bloody selfish, a'course it is! They want somethin' out'a 'im! But their selfishness 'elps ev'ryone else too! It 'elp's folks, an' it ain't costin' anythin' but freely giv'n devotion!"
"An' what it's all about! People are all f&&&in' It's one'a the first thin's Garnyl taught me. Ev'ryone's out for their own int'rests! " He points to Gul. " out for yerself, gettin' the thin's ya want, an' tryin' ta protect yer piece'a s$&* pappy, draggin' down anyone ya can't cover 'im from wi' 'im!"
He points to LASaROS. " out fer yerself, wantin' a followin' ta increase yer powers, an' wantin' ta be a god b'fore that ta survive reality goin' ta "
He points to Lemongrass. "Yer out fer yerself, eyein' up bein's a'creation as an' , comin' up wi' whatever excuse ya can think that'll make folks think that what yer pullin' ain't the that it is! An' let me remind ya, yer excuses "
"An' BEFORE anyone else points it out-" Muirkhom points to himself. "- out fer meself, collectin' gold cos' I want ta see me god walk the land, cos' I don't like the idea'a folks bein' like Garnyl was cos' gold made 'em crazy! I people pretendin' is , people pretendin' their is always cos' it serves An' I'd been ta ditch that contract, that thin'a bloody that's about cos' folks can't each other, cos' folks ain't happy wi' , cos' for them it 'as ta be some kind'a , cos' folks want somethin' that lets 'em be ta folks that haven't kept a promise I've been tryin' ta ditch that bloody s+*$ enablin' law promise cos' I don't like the a'folks ownin' folks, an' I think the 'ole thin's bloody anyway!"
"I only made that BLOODY contract cos' it was fault, an' I didn't want'cha bein' in a pile'a cos' couldn't tell the folks that were followin' me were an' I'd It ain't even like I put some s!!#ty terms on that bloody thin'! The only thin' it said was what it ta, and that ya'd me when ya found gold, Apart from that, ya were ta do " Muirkhom's eye has been twitching for a while at this point, and it's only getting more severe. " the one that made any more rules on top'a that, cos' bloody didn't make any more! An' now, yer tryin' ta lump me in wi' yer piece'a s+!~ pappy wi' somethin' , an' that "
"Only a fool, alright. Whether or not I'm a fool, yer one too. Yer the one tryin' ta talk off yer own f$$+up by blamin' the obvious victim in this mess, an' yer the one defendin' the piece'a s**@ that actively enslaves folks that 'aven't done anythin' for the rest of their lives for 'is own bloody selfishness. A selfishness that ain't , and don't even ta be 'e's jus' bein' a "
"Selfishness shouldn't cost anyone but yerself, Gul. Shouldn't because it I know bloody selfishness is costin' yer pappy an' every gnome that stands by 'im, but when selfishness is even worse an' mine might actually lead ta somethin' about it, I can't really find it in me ta care!"
"An' 'ere's me bein' selfish again. That contract should'a never 'appened. There wasn't any bloody promise, so much as a piece'a paper that lets me legally be a s%&~. One that yer usin' as a weapon right about now cos' I didn't think ta do this earlier."
" yer debts are , the contract is , an' ya Ya can be a slaver like yer pappy, ya can try ta kill me right now, ya can pretend the contract's still goin' an' continue all the thin's I bloody hated about it, ya can do cos' yer "
Muirkhom points to Kyrillosr. "Ya f~&@ed up a moment ago, but yer tryin'. Keep at it."
He points to LASaROS again. "Yer tryin' too. I 'ope things wok out wi' ya, cos' if it does I'll get ta see somethin' I don't see enough."
He starts to point to Umlur, and retracts his finger. "I don't actually know ya well enough ta say anythin' yet. Jus'...be alright, alright?"
His finger sweeps across everyone else present. " Ya've got a chance right now ta serve yer own int'rests, 'elp ev'ryone else doin' it! Wi' the world a mess, we've gotta work together! We've gotta make the order, We , or we , an ya all want ta LIVE, " He bangs his staff on the ground, and points to the shackled dhampir with it. "They want ta feast on ya, an' are ya goin' ta let 'em? Ya can take 'em out before they try, an' they ain't gonna bloody stop ya! Ya can take 'em out wi'out any effory , an' , so what are ya waitin' for? "
Gul arches an eyebrow and says, Apparently, I struck a nerve... as only the truth can
I'll leave you to your rationalizations
Muirkhom spits. "Don't 'ave ta be true ta be irritatin'! Ya can say what ya like, but ya don't get ta pick if it's true or not yerself! Ya can jus' say what ya think an' see if folks agree, especially wi' the s+!# that's goin' on now!"
As Muikrohm's speech begins to take hold Imazael can see the villagers readying their knives, clubs, and assorted tools and weapons... all except the feinted woman with the kerchief, who has no weapons. You should look out for them. More to the point, the criminals themselves are vulnerable to wooden weapons such as your dagger.
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Phraanz at last blinks out of his meditative state. Refreshing though his fugue normally is, this has only left him with more questions...and a memory. 'Why do I know this?' he thinks, the note, once visible, fading from his mind.
At last he rises, turning to the villagers readying weapons. "Ya! Heer me nowh und listen me latah! Ya, but don't think about it evah! Da wars, it starts when you wish, but do not do da ending when you will! Und weapons, ya, dey are like tools of ill omen, ya! So, you stay heer und do pushups, ya!"
Phraanz flexes a few times to give his words emphasis. He finishes by kissing his bicep to keep them calm. People like that.
Then he heads to the place of the Recent Unpleasantness.
He observes the tumult of the wrestling figures fighting amongst swiftly-cooling pools of acid, and, apparently, trying to flay the immobile figures along the walls.
Interesting.
Phraanz walks forward to the edge of the trapped floor. Ignoring the flaming ifrit and the melee that is (attempting) to go on, he calls out trapped dhampir. "Ya! Heer me nowh und listen to me later, ya! Why are you heer, ya? What are your crimes, now, my bruthahs? Have you not been saying you prayerss und eating your vitamins, ya?"
The note is crumbled, still on the floor, where his fist tried to smash it; to crush it from existence so it had never been. But not this. This would not go away.
ever.
"Borak,
Six of the Loyal are missing.
Find them.
-R"
Zelloris Imazael quietly becons the catfolk over The situation is about to deteriorate, to insure we are the victors, I would urge you to arm yourself, search the antechamber, the Ravens were paranoid, there are likely weapons here. grab some for the girl as well, she is one of us.
"Arrre you you doing this again, lady? You do rrrememberrr how this tends to end. I secrrreted away Wrrraithkin's daggerrr, but the drrrow took the Lady's Doomshalow. You would think wooden daggerrrs would drrraw more attention in a den of you viperrrs, but nonetheless... untill that unforrrtunate rrreality, I've made the aquaintence of the village gunsmith, and scorrred a fine piece of silverrr myself." They also palm Imazael a pouch of coin. "From your... estate. The crofter may part with his rations for liquid assets... but if you find him weary, there is always coin."
Myxis brandishes her sickle. "Weapon's no good unconcious."
Passing through the crowd, Imazael's hand falls on an ornate ivory scrollcase . There are ravens carved into the polished surface.
Looking over the tiled floor, Imazael recognizes the presence of a pattern, if not the pattern itself.
Fortunately, Gulirk is out of the vamp's range, and the vamp is not trying to close the distance yet. The panicking orc drives the bell's ringer up into the fanger's jaw, shattering the bone and caving in the side of his skull. The blood-starved creature is flung up into the wall, but his hands catch the grooves carved therein, and he scuttles up onto the ceiling. Gulirk will have to move, avoiding the trapped tiles in order to get back into Close combat, or draw her rope so she can Reach him.
Muirkohm stomps back to the end of the hall to talk down the gnome. He’s remarkably unhindered until he leans forward to shout and is met with a jet of acid.
Lemongrass gestures toward his daughter, “I’m a basketweaver, eh? Gulirk is a grown woman, and a capable scout. She looks like she’s taking care of herself, buddEEE” The old gnome takes a half-step forward, holding his back with one hand. He turns to see the mob of villagers pressing forward, weapons drawn. They may not all survive an encounter with one of the bloodsuckers, but neither will the dhampir, and they'll be sure Lemongrass sticks to the front line.
Kyrillosr canters down the hall, dodging one acid tile only to trip another. He avoids getting hurt himself, but a third dhampir is released from their shackles. They slide to their knees down the center of the opposite wall from the others. Fortunately, the hippocampus catches the dhampir behind Muirkohm between the ribs with a barbed spur. Spinning as they leap forward, the dhampir claws at Kyrillosr. The cuts are superficial, and don't even draw blood.
Leaping away from the hippocampus sends the prisoner over the dwarf’s head toward the villagers, and the basketmaker who is fumbling for his belt knife. There’s a bang, the lunging creature of the night twists in the air , and Phraanz’ flexing bicep puts his face into superposition... which here means the two of them collide, and Phraanz wins.
The dhampir is dry and emaciated, anyone would go insane with hunger in a fraction of the time these folk have been kept here… Not to mention the torture beforehand. All of that could be erased with a strict regimen of protein shakes full of iron, but until then, they are insensible with bloodlust.
Hypotheticals aside, The dhampir is now injured and in Hand-to-hand combat between Phraanz and Muirkohm. The cobbler is in their way, and kind of shouty and weird, so they’re willing to compromise on whose blood they’re going to drink. They spring into an attack on Phraanz like a cat in frenzy.
Umlur is standing near the middle of the hall, trying not to move from the tile she’s standing on. She’s holding a knife and a dagger and trying to look unappetizing. The freshly woken dhampir is taking in their surroundings, and will attack soon.
Meanwhile, in margaritaville, Nameless Mumei returns with the other trapper and the peddler with offerings of a bag of voles and a wax-sealed urn of absynth . Nameless Anamika is distracted, and isn’t getting in as deep a massage as she’d like. She and Mumei recommend leaving. Unfortunately, Nameless Ferdinand is stuck in the angry mob.
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The orc grits her teeth as the dwarf tries to rouse the villagers into certain death. She almost can't believe his stupidity, but then she remembers something that makes that belief very easy. Dwarves were almost extinct at one time. Continual inbreeding had had a detrimental effect on the races intellect. As the dwarves minds become more addled, their capacity to reproduce became more and more precarious, as aiming and hitting the target became more and more problematic.
Fortunately, the Machiavellian Prince Rainar saw a use for the dying race. They would be bred as fodder for dangerous dirty jobs on the battle field, like looking for mines. To get the dwarves numbers up, He instituted a breeding program, where the women were dressed as sheep, the average dwarven male target of amorous feelings, and nature took it course. The regiment was known by the acronym RETARDs (Regimental Engagement Tactics and Remote Detonation)
Gul felt the satisfying crunch telegraphed through the pyrite. She can feel Ginger get anxious at the over head headless. Settle. The orc points to the dais. Leap. Ginger takes a bond and uses her tentacles to assist Gul.
Ginger uses her keen senses to assist Gul, while she evaluates the prison.
The orc drops the club and she frees her whip and key fob. She puts the key in the lock and says to Kreza, That's two you owe me. You can pay one back immediately. Save my Papa. The orc can't wait for the vampires to go up like kindling.
Tripping on the acid for the second time, Kyrillosr finds that he unleashed yet another vampire. He attempts to bring down the first vampire before it joins the newly-released one.
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Imazael sees her opportunity, and darts out, driving her dagger into the foe that Kyrill faced, slaying him a moment before he could retaliate. her blade comes out covered in rich, vampiric blood. Imazael can't help herself, as she retreats back toward the shadows, she wipes it off with her finger, and licks it up.
looking around, Imazael is certain her fellows have the situation under control. Upon further consideration, perhaps this situation is irrelevant to us. grab the unconscious one, get her out of danger. Perhaps the bell-tower. She says to Myxis and Zell, indicationg the fallen woman.
then the Elemental is unleashed. Imazael notices, and goes for the door, but notices someone on the way, an attractive, scarified quarterling. May as well, More is better. she thinks, grabbing him by the wrist Come with me She says, head twitching to indicate the elemental Out of the blast radius. she finishes.
It's an established legend, and comes in many forms. In some variants, they were experimenting with fertility and genetic modification, in others they were being bred into super-soldiers. What's clear is that the race had been in danger of extinction until an external force affected a change in them, reshaping them to some purpose.
Dyunkelheim was never a home of charming, normative goodwives and housebonds. The ancient home of the curse-born is open to all the world’s monsters. None of you is particularly liked, but seeing another sun sometimes takes cooperation.
Ginger is having some trouble with Gulirk's first command. Her Savage blood is boiling, and all she wants to do is fight these Humanoids... these Monsters. She's not really built for Labor. Her tentacles recoil from the scuttling dhampir as if struck. Gulirk can give her a stern look, and she will become Chastised with pent up Instincts, but she'll follow directions for now. If the lady orc enables the savagery, Ginger will take care of the faceless dhampir without question, but Gul’ll have to brave the floor on her own.
The prisoner crawling along the ceiling is flagging, and doesn't seem bent on doing much harm just now, but there is a new, freed dhampir in Reach who is not paying you much attention. Ginger’s eyes flit from Gulirk to the crouched prisoner, flickering emerald and amber.
Kreza sighs, arms held out, palms up. The removal of the magic prison sets the ifrit back on the floor. "The times may change, but the tasks, sadly, do not.” Ginger finds Kreza’s equipment nearby: an executioner’s axe , and a hood of black chainmail . Kreza hops carefully from tile to tile, headed for the third released prisoner. He does not set off any of the traps.
Gulirk was raised among gnomes, of course, but within a dhampir settlement, and under the coats of arms of dhampir heraldry. These six, apparently the only dhampir prisoners of this generation, are all about the same age, and wearing the style of one family.
Kyrilosr jabs the holey prisoner once more, and it spins to retaliate, rage rushing out of him in a red foam. The dhampir’s shadow slips back into the crowd as he desiccates mid-swing.
Myxis and Zell look from the unconscious Filaurel, to each other, and finally to Imazael. "Leaving her alone is as good as killing her." Myxis nods to Zell’s assesment. "B@!$% has- She has powers…"
The ragtag group run (Or in myxis' case, stumble with purpose) toward the stairs, Imazael holding Pimrin's hand in her right, and the octopus in her left, barring the doors behind them, and settle into the bell-tower. Zell lays down the woman, and Myxis settles down on the balcony, watching the winds shift the ashes. Imazael offers the chairs to Zelloris and Pimrin the chairs, taking a seat on the floor if they both accept.
She turns to Pimrin My friend, I realize in my haste, I had not introduced myself. I am Lady Imazael, A dhampir, and ascendant noble I shall allow my Comrades to introduce themselves. She says
As you well know, circumstance has conspired to damage my memory, but it would seem Zelloris and Lassiter have a greater understanding than I. Would you two be so kind as to fill me in as to the pertinent information, a simplified version of events. she says, rubbing her hand in a circle on myxis' back.
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Gul watches Kreza's rock hard body move into action. His vascular fiery arms lift the scythe with ease. She can see the red hot mercury flowing within.
Ok Ginger rip it to shreds she says as she whips the rope to knock the (third) blood sucker to the floor.
Gul points to the faceless one says. Finish that one. my fiery friend.
Gul moves to the next closest. She tries to remember the safe tiles she had already crossed.
Gulirk sets Ginger loose and the beast is on the mauled dhampir in a smear of black death. The orc drops one end of the clapper and lets out the length of her rope. She lashes at the newly released prisoner, and with a jerk, she pulls the rope taut at the last second and he’s hauled, flipping through the air to meet with the grounded clapper.
Furious, winded, and bleeding, the dhampir claws at Gulirk. Then, Ginger returns. Her jaws practically appearing around the dhampir’s throat.
In the distance there is a thuck, and Kreza holds up the head of one of the prisoners. “Did you want all of them dead? I forgot to ask.”
There are two living prisoners. Both are trapped against the walls. Kreza is hopping toward the one in the middle of the room who has his arm free. He stops to turn a pulpy body with one foot and inspect the surface of the tile underneath. He seems happy to continue doing his job.
Most of the villagers are similarly happy enough not to have to brave the deathtrap before them.
Lemongrass pulls down the hem of his tunic with a harumph that blows out his moustaches. “Gods be kind you all live to regret settin’ dat dere elemental loose. Da boys at home’ll have somethin’ ta say aboot dat, eh?”
Myxis tips her hat. “Myxis...”
Zelloris scoffs behind a clipboard she seems to have found, then composes herself before continuing introductions. “Stuart Zelloris of the house of the Despoiler, currently in the service of--if I may be so bold--Lady Emmaline, Dauphine of Dunkleheim.” Her eyes flick to Imazael, but she makes no move to indicate her. You’re pretty sure you’ve threatened her in the past about that name. You could understand it if she were a nanny, or even a quarter your age. She’s practically a housecat with a calculator.
“Uhm, I’m totally not Lassiter. I mean, he was a human, and I am clearly a-” Lassiter lets out a wet, peachy belch. “S-sorry... indigestion.”
Filaurel’s eyes open, pouring blinding fire like a glimpse of eternity. “Beware the trees that open these. The darker night that follows. The world is cracked, we carry back, a fiend whose heart is... hɒllows.” She blinks a few times, the light fading, and she peers sanctimoniously at the looks the rest of you are giving.
My father needs assurances. She walks to Kreza and braves the heat to get nose to nose with him. Give me your word that you will always defend me and my family, and I will give you an adventure that will last an eternity.