"We can bring everyone up to speed on the Moon's Light probably more effectively if we just showed them," Cassian says. "And it might be something to do at night."
Gravlax chokes on his spirits.
"Oh," he says. "Show them the shop."
Cassian frowns. "Actually, no, the tunnel beneath the shop. Where the evil is. Well, presumably."
Gravlax finishes his drink. "I have a bad feeling that the evil is mobile. But yes, the tunnel is an integral part."
"My calves, however splendid in heels, are not."
"I think we can forgo any creative costuming."
Cassian arrives a wee bit later with an definitely non-Chammady definitely human woman. He orders some local-Wiscrani liquor and sits down.
Tarvi smiles over at her brother, casts a little cantrip then, "You and Crosael should have a glass before they tap it out. Very tasty."
Gravlax finishes his drink. "I have a bad feeling that the evil is mobile. But yes, the tunnel is an integral part."
"My calves, however splendid in heels, are not."
"I think we can forgo any creative costuming."
Crosael who had been tasting a little of the liquid from what Gravlax ordered with a slightly distant look, sits a little straighter. "I think it'd make more sense to take care of the ghost first, wouldn't it? More active evil?"
Tarvi shakes her head a little, "I don't know. Those shop girls were creepy."
"Ghost first," Cassian confirms. "We're on a time limit with her. Odds are whatever is happening at Moon's Light won't get any worse in the next day or two."
He drinks. "Of course, having said that..."
"Completely changes things now, doesn't it?" Azhar says with a twinkle in his eyes and a mug raised to his lips shortly thereafter.
Slowly, quite a bit after the strictly required two hours of rest. Amaya stretches, yawns, and immediately moves just enough that her blanket wrapped body cuddles into Azhar's warm frame. Her lids held shut against the existence of day.
"Morning, Love." he whispers softly into the hair next to her ear. "I'm afraid your omelets no longer hot, but I'm glad you got your rest." He lightly kisses the top her ear. "Are you feeling better?"
Gravlax finishes his drink. "I have a bad feeling that the evil is mobile. But yes, the tunnel is an integral part."
"My calves, however splendid in heels, are not."
"I think we can forgo any creative costuming."
Azhar does not quite choke on his drink. "Sounds like I missed something interesting." he muses.
*"Morning, Love."* he whispers softly into the hair next to her ear. *"I'm afraid your omelets no longer hot, but I'm glad you got your rest."* He lightly kisses the top her ear. *"Are you feeling better?"*
He squeezes her lightly between arm and body, then just holds her, warmly, affectionately, not forcing her to get up yet if she doesn't want to, but definitely informing her of his presence.
Mathalen smirks a little into her cup.
"So, not tonight, because tonight is for drinking, but what can we do about the ghost hellknight?" She looks at Gravlax for confirmation, "Ara Verennie?"
"I've made it a goal to not attract the attention of the dottari or the hellknights, so do we have any clue if this is some ancient ghost that is upset about the Thrune change of regime or someone who died more recently?"
And then she turns back into her cup when all she gets are blank looks. A quiet mumble, "Or maybe that's a better conversation for tomorrow..."
Azhar whispers conversation to Amaya, his teasing countenance suggesting he is up to no good, as per usual.
And then she turns back into her cup when all she gets are blank looks. A quiet mumble, "Or maybe that's a better conversation for tomorrow..."
"I'm sure all...or at least some, will be made clear tomorrow, hopefully, but regarding this "creative costuming", can I assume you were a part of that as well?" his initial glance and words are directed to Mathalen, but his gaze sweeps all present, as if to say do tell, won't you?
Azhar whispers conversation to Amaya, his teasing countenance suggesting he is up to no good, as per usual. The soft words are punctuated with an equally tender kiss to the back of her ear.
Amaya hiccups slightly, turning a redder (somehow) and shoots a glare at Azhar.
"I'm sure all...or at least some, will be made clear tomorrow, hopefully, but regarding this "creative costuming", can I assume you were a part of that as well?" his initial glance and words are directed to Mathalen, but his gaze sweeps all present, as if to say do tell, won't you?
"I had a great top hat." She motions at Cassian and Gravlax, "I'm pretty sure it was one of their plans."
.
Late the next day, although a few people (most notiably Mathalen and Tarvi) continue to wince at loud noises and bright light, the group gets together to discuss the problem of the ghost. And maybe Moon's Light.
After a morning spent finding information, divination or sleeping.
Tarvi's head is cushioned by her forearms and her voice is muffled by the table. "I vote for shark powered lasers."
Amaya hiccups slightly, turning a redder (somehow) and shoots a glare at Azhar.
He grins at her apologetically and kisses her again, first on the forehead and then again on the lips...if she still lets hon.
"I had a great top hat." She motions at Cassian and Gravlax, "I'm pretty sure it was one of their plans."
Azhar arches an eyebrow, as of to say Do tell?
.
Tarvi's head is cushioned by her forearms and her voice is muffled by the table. "I vote for shark powered lasers."
Azhar seems incredulous, but quite interested. "So you think the place is next to the water? Or are you planning on making them able to fly and self contained as well? Or are you talking land sharks?" he smiles, thinking of the possibilities. "Is this how new monstrosities are created?" he apparently wouldn't put anything past Tarvi's abilities any more, but reconsiders, "I think that might take too long to implement." he says, after thinking about it for a second or two. "Should we just start where we saw her or at the Hell Knight's house? Or does someone have new information?"
"I don't think she intended a random outburst to be cross-examined. At least not this early in the morning," says a chipper Cassian. "All right, here's what I learned. The ghost was third in command of the Wiscrani Hellknights. There are rumors of infighting in House Taranik a short while after the assassination of Iltus Mhartis. And some other Hellknight escaped House Taranik with a whole platoon and disappeared into Rego Cader. I know I was supposed to look into the ghost, but this is what I got."
Azhar seems incredulous, but quite interested. "So you think the place is next to the water? Or are you planning on making them able to fly and self contained as well? Or are you talking land sharks?" he smiles, thinking of the possibilities. "Is this how new monstrosities are created?" he apparently wouldn't put anything past Tarvi's abilities any more, but reconsiders, "I think that might take too long to implement." he says, after thinking about it for a second or two.
Tarvi points at her brother, using her hand to nod keeping her head down and her eyes covered. "'sides need to get the lasers first."
"Should we just start where we saw her or at the Hell Knight's house? Or does someone have new information?"
Amaya, far closer to Cassian's level of chipper, listens carefully to the rogue. "So you do think we should look into House Taranik first or head up to Cader to find out where the hellknights went?"
Tarvi, mumbling into the table once again, "She did not celebrate properly."
"I have no idea. I was going to look into the ghost some more in hopes of finding something remotely relevant."
After a little more discussion (and lots of water for Tarvi), the group moves north, slipping over the wall into Rego Cader. At almost the city limits, and somewhat near the decrepit tower where Thesing and Melilot laird, Cassian and Azhar are able to track the hellknight egress to an remarkably well-preserved merchant villa.
The building looms solid from the broken and decayed buildings around it. Even in the light of day, the shadows cling to the structure. Tracks lead up to the front door, but none leave.
The front door creaks even after the application of oil that should have allowed it to open quietly and the atmosphere inside is heavy. As people move through the house, the floorboards creak and groan under all but the most light-footed. The thick layers of dust and cobwebs make following the path of the humans that entered easy. Upstairs in what was once a ballroom, six corpses. Five male hellknights - each at the point of a star - throats cut and in the center next to a almost humanoid golden statue, laying on a bed of coins, gems, and other valuables, is a woman's body, a dagger driven into her heart.
Tarvi points at her brother, using her hand to nod keeping her head down and her eyes covered. "'sides need to get the lasers first."
Azhar smiles and shrugs, which Tarvi probably does not notice.
Tarvi, mumbling into the table once again, "She did not celebrate properly."
This brings a slightly broader smile. He offers a slightly teasing sidelong glance and elbows Amaya softly in the ribs.
"I have no idea. I was going to look into the ghost some more in hopes of finding something remotely relevant."
"Where do you want to start? Rego Cader is a large place. I don't mind searching for them, but that was how long ago? Might help to have some additional info. Where were you looking at digging up more dirt on the ghostie? Gravlax? Do you think you might be able to see if there was any other public or not so public governmental type information on them? I guess I can look around Rego Cader's periphery and see if I can't turn up traces of troop movement, but..." he shrugs his shoulders again. "Should we just start at the Hell Knight's House and go from there?"
"Seems to have been a ritualistic ceremony of sorts and based on the lack of animals in the area since, I would say some bad juju has happened."
"and based on the valuables under the body I've got a guess as to whom it was too, but anyone else got anything?"
"So what do you guys think? If we remove the dagger and take the treasure, you think this place'll start showing some life?" he begins moving forward to do so (at least the dagger removing part), unless someone stops him. "Don't know if burning the bodies will help, but I'm all for that too. Maybe outside, though, unless we're going to torch the whole building."
"On second thought, maybe we should have the bodies and place blessed. Is that something you can do, Fiosa?"
Fiosa shakes her head. "Direct conduit to..." she waves her hand, around and vaguely upward, "something, maybe Sarenrae. But I don't know any rituals or things for putting people to rest."
Fiosa shakes her head. "Direct conduit to..." she waves her hand, around and vaguely upward, "something, maybe Sarenrae. But I don't know any rituals or things for putting people to rest."
"That might have been useful information to have yesterday, considering this whole expedition was to put a ghost to rest," Cassian remarks.
Fiosa shakes her head. "Direct conduit to..." she waves her hand, around and vaguely upward, "something, maybe Sarenrae. But I don't know any rituals or things for putting people to rest."
"I suspect alchemist's fire is not the correct way to put them to rest."
Fiosa sorta shrugs, "Sorry."
Tarvi pulls herself enough out of her hangover to comment, "Can't we just wrap up the bodies and dump them at House Tarrnick? As much as the Hellknight are dicks, I'd guess they wouldn't be all cheery about one of their lictor-things running around as a ghost."
A pause, then Fiosa adds, "Or just drag Arael up here to bless the bodies before or after we burn them. Since he has actual ecclesiastical training."
"I was going to suggest Arael, though that's a good suggestion about House Tarrnick, Tarvi. Shall we go get the elf, or do you guys think dropping these off would put us in better with the Hellknights?"
"I'd rather staying with people we know we can trust. Who's to say that the Hellknights won't assume we authored this, and then I'm left to killing Hellknights."
"Arael first then."
Mathalen volunteers to fetch Arael. Tarvi watches her go, eyes narrowing, "There has to be a more efficient way to fetch people." And she starts to idly sketch something involving rotating cylinders with odd runes about the circumference. But outside, away from the bodies and the creepy ritualistic manner in which they killed themselves, because the weird sounds the house was making kept on distracting her.
Eventually Arael arrives, with Mathalen carrying a large bag of what turns out to be incense, powders, silver nitrate, and other parts of his divine mumbo-gumbo.
He directs Mathalen and Fiosa in where to start placing things, then pauses. "This is going to take... a while. A full day." He points to a book, "I need to read about one-quarter of that for each of the bodies here."
"And things will either get weird immediately, just at the end, or not at all." A pause, "From what I've been told."
"Sooo. Everyone here for the beginning and the end and rotating watches throughout?" Azhar inquires of the group as a whole. "Someone can call us if we don't stray too far, right? And I can go fetch snackage if anyone's interested."
"If you want to clear out the death bribe and the statue of Mammon, it would help." Arael adds as he returns to writing on the walls and floor around the bodies.
Azhar smiles at the purely physical directive. "That I can do." he says, and promptly begins doing so.
Cassian promptly finds a perch in an out-of-the-way location and keeps watch with Rygel.
The ceremony is a long, arduous process. Sprinkling of holy water, mind-numbingly long chanting in old Chelaxian. In Arael's case, prayers to the Lady of Honor and Glory to put to rest those who ended their lives in wickedness.
Hours later.
Many many hours later.
After a long time where Arael - except for a few instructions between chanting - is the only one really doing anything.
Just when he is just about done.
Ara's body suddenly glows golden, her sightless (and orb-less) eyes snap open.
"At least she picked the right one this time," Cassian mutters from hiding.
The empty sockets of the corpse narrow, filling with molten gold. The body is jerked aloft, head moving back and forth searching.
Arael's voice speeds up for a moment while reciting passages from Acts of Iomedae, the reforging of her sword instantly after it was shattered by the Whispering Tyrant. Then the half-elf catches himself, forcing a measure of calm into himself, as he continues with Iomedae's seventh miraculous act.
The corpse's face finally settles in vaguely the direction where Cassian and Rygel were perched.
"I think we've heard just about enough from you." Azhar says, stepping in behind the undead/possessed body and swiftly decapitating it, then bringing his sword down through the head itself, splitting it in twain as well. "It's time for you to go back to your own private Hell."
The corpse's face finally settles in vaguely the direction where Cassian and Rygel were perched.
"You kill one pope and no one lets you forget it..."
Azhar easily separates the head from the corpse and the body slams into the ground, spraying decomposing flesh and juice. However, a golden shine in the area remains where the head had been.
Arael winces, enumerating on Iomedae's eleventh miraculous act. Finally, as a finishing stroke on the ceremony he is performing, he pulls his longsword and drives the point into the body. A wave of power washes out from the center of the room.
There is a moment of absolute silence, then the same voice, coming from all around the room.
Then.
Nothing.
Cassian hops down from his perch. "So... Moon's Light, then?"
Gravlax shakes his head. "Gods and men," he swears.
"No offense meant to you," he says to Arael.
He claps his hands together.
"I'm up for Moon's Light."
The group moves back down to the southern end of the city, confident in the darkness that most people still fear. You are able to slip into the sewers near Moon's Light and Gravlax points out the semi-clean trail leading from the locked (which wouldn't stop this group) Moon's Light basement to a illusory wall.
Behind the semi-recently broken masonry, you find yourselves in a room that once held slaughtered gargoyles. Now the table and chairs have been tossed aside, the stone shattered. The centerpiece of the room is now the dead, dismembered, and tortured body of the vulture rakshasa who ran Liebdaga's theater amusements.
"(So we are after the unliving?)" Azhar asks via message, not sounding terribly surprised. He looks over the surroundings to see what else he might be able to pick up.
+4 additional for Undead
Gravlax frowns. "The rakshasa's body wasn't here the last time I visited."
Moving deeper into the old dungeon again, the group finds the burning guardian has been immobilized into the stone of the room he once guarded.
And in Zovarue's workshop, utter chaos and destruction. Her manuscript of Wiscrani laws burned, the delicate arcane tools twisted and broken, and finally the medusa herself - beheaded.
Through the once sealed doors into Liebdaga's central holding room. The body of the pit fiend has rotted away entirely, the bones of the immense devil have warped and melded with the metal of his once cage, forming a 15-ft wide circle standing in the middle of the room, pulsing and glowing with purple light.
The body of the pit fiend has rotted away entirely, the bones of the immense devil have warped and melded with the metal of his once cage, forming a 15-ft wide circle standing in the middle of the room, pulsing and glowing with purple light.
"...that can't be good."
"Well. Anyone want to look into this with me?" Azhar doesn't appear to be incredibly enthused about the prospect of venturing into the swirling purple maelstrom of doom. He gingerly reaches out to touch the purple glow with his fingertips.
"How about we wait until one of the experts has a look at it?"
"Now that would be the smart thing to do, wouldn't it?" Azhar says, flashing a grin backwards, "Not always what I've been known for."