Strange Aeons, with GM Pendrak

Game Master karlprosek

Perhaps start with Winter.

Upon returning to the agency, Broom asked to see Winter and introduced Lachen. "He is looking for work and We thought maybe We could deputize him and he could help us at the fort. Are We allowed to deputize people? Is that something that an investigator is allowed to do? Anyway! He is here now and if We can't deputize him, then you can make him an investigator like Us.

We have a lot of work to do before we go back to the fort tomorrow so We are going to head to Our room now."

With that Broom headed back to her room and began to set up an experiment that she had come across the last time that her mind had been wandering.

Winter was in a larger room in a different section of hallways than the survivors were. There was an anteroom with a large table and chairs, all but one pushed back against the walls as the sole remaining member of the Prince's punitive expedition went through the actual Royal Accuser's papers, ledgers, research, and the other documents that had accompanied her group.

She looked up as the Briarstone survivors came in, looking tired but a bit less worn down and hopeless than she had the day before. Lachen also seemed to inspire her curiosity.

"I will consult with the Prince's advisors and see if I can get his name added to the Accuser's writ. Regardless, mister..." the dark haired, dark eyed woman looked at Lachen for his full name.

"Regardless, sir, if you would agree to help my friends I will make sure you are paid better than a common mercenary's wage. The Prince has made clear his coffers are open to address this attack on his sovereignty. Of course it will take a few days for any funds to arrive from Caliphas."

Winter looked at Broom and the others, a restrained level of hope masked behind her dark eyes. "So there was no sign of Accuser Omari or the rest of my group?"

Reine took a deep breath.

"Show her," she said to Desdemona, referring to the Accuser's badge they had recovered from the fort's kitchen.

She didn't particularly feel like telling Winter about the icebox.

We didn't specify who took it, but Des found it, per post#2854. She showed it to us, but no further mention was made, so I assume that either she still has it in her pocket, or gave it to Broom (who "sweeps up" into her Haversack all the loot we don't otherwise claim, so that we don't forget it. She's very handy that way..)

Reine took a deep breath.

"Show her," she said to Desdemona, referring to the Accuser's badge they had recovered from the fort's kitchen.

She didn't particularly feel like telling Winter about the icebox.

Desdemona, looking more somber than she had since leaving the fort, brought forth the sad reminder of Winter's sometimes-friend. "This was all that was left, other than the dead mercenaries, who were very much un-dead. I'm sorry," she said, adding the last almost as an afterthought.

She glanced at Broom, as though wondering whether she should go on, or whether the Doctor would care to describe the first strangeness they had encountered at the fort.

Broom looked confused for a moment and cocked her head a bit, she was certain that she had given a report earlier. But as she thought about it she realized that she didn't remember exactly who she gave the report to. Maybe word simply hadn't gotten to Winter yet.

She cleared her throat, put on a serious face and began again. "Well, there was the woman that John knew at the front gate, but she ran away and we didn't see her again. All the mercenaries were turned into zombies and they still guard the fortress. We did uh... kill? Can you kill a zombie? They aren't really alive, right? We think they are called undead so We guess we um, unlifed them?"

Broom paused for a moment as she grappled with the conundrum before shrugging and carrying on. "Then we found the dogs and John kept one, and we found the kitchen where it looks like a lot of people in the keep and the other investigators you sent got cooked and eaten. Oh, right, there were the fishmen too, they were probably the ones eating everyone, but not the mercenaries, they got turned into zombies. We don't think zombies eat anything and the dogs were very hungry and We don't think the woman was eating people so it was probably all the fishmen. One of the fishmen even melted into goo when it was killed for some reason. It was really messy. We should probably clean it up when We go back.

But that was it, the zombies were immune to Our electricity touches, and they were really tough so We decided to come back here to rest. We will go back tomorrow."

Broom smiled once again "Is there anything else that you need to know?"

Sorry, I totally forgot you guys had already come back here! I don't know how it wouldn't have come up, but maybe Winter just didn't specifically ask about the Royal Accuser's whereabouts? My mistake, but Winter does need to get to have her chance to react to seeing that her group is all dead.

Winter shook her head at Broom (let's say this is before the badge comes out). "No, that was very thorough." (Then she asks about Accuser Omari)

Reine de Colère wrote:

Reine took a deep breath.

"Show her," she said to Desdemona, referring to the Accuser's badge they had recovered from the fort's kitchen.

She didn't particularly feel like telling Winter about the icebox.

Desdemona, looking more somber than she had since leaving the fort, brought forth the sad reminder of Winter's sometimes-friend. "This was all that was left, other than the dead mercenaries, who were very much un-dead. I'm sorry," she said, adding the last almost as an afterthought.

She glanced at Broom, as though wondering whether she should go on, or whether the Doctor would care to describe the first strangeness they had encountered at the fort.

Winter's expressions were usually somewhere between 'deadpan' and 'emotionless'. Back at Briarstone, the dark haired Pharasmin had seemed nearly unflappable, taking every bit of bad news in stride as she worked to keep her survivors alive. In the past few days, this group had witnessed her breakdown when she'd learned that Accuser Omari and the rest of her group had disappeared.

Now they got to see it again. Her face fell, the pleasant, almost amused look she'd had listening to Broom's recounting of events disappearing entirely and her pale complexion turning a sickly grey. She closed her eyes for a moment before reaching out to take the badge from Desdemona, clearly holding back tears. You could almost hear her telling herself to keep it together- a far cry from the stoic leader of the chapel defenders.

"I..." Winter took a deep breath and gripped the badge hard, steadying herself. "I'd hoped for better news." She shook her head. "They were my friends," she said quietly.

The junior Royal Accuser sighed, eyes closed as she took another calming breath and fought the tears. Finally opening her eyes and nodding, she looked at the group who had brought her and so many others out of Briarstone. "Thank you for letting me know. This is... hard news. But I appreciate that it was you who found out. I have faith that you will put things right."

Winter cleared her throat. "I need to let Caliphas know. I don't know exactly what's going on here but this is treason. Whoever ordered this will be held responsible. If I can help you in any way, let me know. Thank you, my friends."

OK, rest now? It's mid-afternoon. You could go back out at night if you want to try to hunt down that glowing thing or investigate the strange light outside of town. Or you could wait until morning and head back to the fort. Or something else?

Such weakness.

Desdemona was so badly startled by the thought that she looked about manically, half-expecting the shadows to have gathered around her. But her orbiting stone had taken care of that.

Gathering up the remains of her dignity, she nodded and rose. "We're all terribly sorry," she repeated, trying hard to feel the emotions her words suggested. That she didn't scared her further, and her brows came down as she spoke again, looking angry for reasons that weren't apparent to anyone but her, rather than what she said. "If we run into any more trouble, we'll let you know. I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of this."

Haha, I'd forgotten we'd been back as well. I vote we return to the fort in the morning (or even the night), I don't think we finished up there. Des, on the other hand, is VERY reluctant to return there, but she'll come around once the shadow shows up again anyway, LOL.

"We should go back to the fort." John declares.

"We know that somebody in that place has better information. All we did was fight zombies and fish people."

He looks at Winter: "Did you know about the fish people? Seems like a fish people invasion should be big news...."

Anyone who'd known Reine for the last few days - or, judging by the townsfolk's reactions to her, for some weeks or moths prior - would have seen something completely unexpected happen at that point.

She gave Winter a look of genuine sympathy.

"Losing... friends," she began, "especially people you are used to looking to for guidance, leaning on for their experience... It is hard." Reine's eyes became slightly unfocused - another rarity for her - as if she was remembering something, or reliving it.

"It is frightening. Having to make decisions on your own, suddenly. Unexpectedly. Having to rely on only what you know yourself..."

Reine's eyes suddenly snapped into focus, and her gaze locked with Winter's.

"Don't let the fear - or the grief - overwhelm you. They will try. Both of them will try. It is OK to feel them. OK to let them wash through and over you. But do not let them sweep you away. You are strong. This will not destroy you - unless you choose to let it."

Then, Reine just... stopped speaking. She nodded, stepped back, and appeared to have become her usual, focused, simmering, angry self.

The warrior answers to Winter's inquiry about his name

My name is Lachen. I'm sure my services will be paid for at their full value by the Prince.

Lachen waits, letting the other talk, resting his back on the wall. He looks at the group's dynamics, who talk, who doesn't, who is interrupted, who isnt.

But he listens to their tales of adventures too, what they had to fight, how they defeated it. Even with his grim demeanor, he can't help but genuinely smile at "Broom" antics when she speaks of killed undead as "unlifed"

Seems they had their share of troubles getting out the place too.

The women are powerful, Lachen. All in their respective ways.

What about the man, John? Doesn't seem a top dog to me...We'll see.

What now? Do you have a specific mission for us?

I'm gonna order that Des-Reine-John-Lachen.

Winter nodded gratefully at Desdemona and watched in surprise as Reine gave her what sounded like a remarkably heartfelt pep talk. She swallowed hard as Reine finished- Reine, who often terrified even her friends, was impressively well spoken when it came to encouraging people to overcome tragedies.

She nodded at Reine, too. "Thank you. I appreciate that. Coming from the you... that means a lot to me. It's... hard, I was hoping that..." Winter shook her head. "Just, thank you."

The dark haired Pharasmin cleared her throat and looked over at John as he asked his question. "The fish-men? No, I haven't heard anything about them before. I will definitely make sure the Prince knows about them."

In response to Lachen's question, Winter shakes her head. "A specific mission? Other than finding out what happened to Count Lowls, no. I trust this group to do what needs to be done."

OK, looks like rest the night and go back to the fort in the morning?

John looks at Lachlan

"I think we're goin' back to the fort. There's a lady that looks like Constable Cesyll up there we need to get some answers from."

"Everyone else in that place was a zombie, a fish person, or a dog."

"None of them was very talkative..."

Yeah, I think "rest and go back in the morning" makes sense - unless we feel like (and have enough time for) "rest and go back tonight" would be more effective?

For the first time in an unknown number of days, maybe weeks, the Briarstone survivors spent an afternoon and evening in luxurious safety and comfort. The Agency's extensive resources were at their service, from the expansive library to tea service to a fencing salon and the fitness room full of odd equipment to the enormous Irrisen-style bath and sauna, complete with masseuse.

Afternoon tea was served at precisely 4 and supper was called at 8. There were not many agents present- less than a dozen, along with a handful more recruits in training- and Cesadia Wrentz appeared to be out on business. Or perhaps she just took her meals in her apartments. The adult Briarstone survivors and the children nearly doubled the number of mouths to feed, but no one there would begrudge a child a meal.

After dinner drinks were served in the drawing room, but only a few agents attended and none of the other Briarstone refugees.

After a peaceful day and quiet evening, the sun rose and melted away the morning mist before breakfast was called at 8 o'clock sharp. Where supper had been formal, breakfast was come as you are and pick your own from the buffet line.

Soon enough it was time to head back out.

Once alone in her room, Broom busied herself with setting up everything that she thought she would need for the project. She summoned up a couple of her invisible friends to help with the preparations and act as assistants during the procedure itself.

All the alchemical items that she had purchased were carefully unpacked and placed on the table near the window looking out over the water. She took just a moment to listen to the calling from the deep dark place before shaking the thought out of her mind and getting back to work.

There was grinding and mixing to do, both facilitated by the unseen freinds. As the minerals and dried plants were reduced to fine powders she carefully set her mind out to find those thoughts that had originally given her this idea. She stayed as close as she could, trying to avoid the attention of whatever was out there looking for her. Even now she felt it searching. It was an oddly familiar feeling.

Although she wasn't able to find the exact thoughts, she did find others with the same idea so she focused very hard on them, trying to make those thoughts her thoughts like she could sometimes do.

It was a little tricky though, some of the thoughts on the subject were from things that weren't people.

Having found a set of thoughts that satisfied her, she began reciting instructions to her helpers who dutifully started mixing powders; adding liquids; creating pastes, suspensions and solutions; and other tasks. At one point the odours started to become quite intense so she opened the window and used her cantrip to try and mask the smells.

It turned out to be a good thing that the window was opened, one step in the process required the reduction of a mixture of herbs and chemicals to a fine ash. Burning these items produced a little smoke that filled the air with haze.

After the final reagent was properly prepared the entire collection was carefully added to a shiny copper bowl and it was time for the final steps. The ones that made her pause for a moment in trepidation.

She carefully opened up her doctor kit filled with all the tools and impliments that she at once had never seen before yet knew exactly how to use. Selecting a syringe and one of the larger needles she directed a helper to tie a strip of linen around her arm. She watched with interest as her slowly writhing veins bulged to the surface, becoming darker black in colour as they did so.

Pausing just a moment longer to make sure this is what she wanted to do, she carefully inserted the needle. There was a little pinch, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as she was expecting. Holding the needle steady she instructed a helper to draw back the plunger. Watching the glass cylinder slowly fill up with her inky black blood was both fascinating and disturbing. What was even more fascinating than the process though is the ease with which she found herself able to perform it, like it was something that she had done a hundred times before.

She had never thought that she would be pulling some of herself out of herself on purpose. But as curious as the process was, she knew that she needed to work quickly. The bit of her that she had taken out would not last long. As soon as the syringe was full, she unscrewed it from the needle and instructed her helper to empty it into the copper bowl with the rest of the reagents. Once done she had her other assistant slowly stir the mixture while she proceeded to draw another vial of blood.

It would take another five draws before she had enough to proceed. She removed the needle and neatly and proficiently tied a bandage around the wound. It was now time for the final step. With her helper still carefully stirring the mixture Broom conjured up the feeling and images of the deep dark places. The purplish sparks started to dance about her fingers. Usually this was where she attempted to touch a foe to stop them, but this time her sparks would be used for a very different purpose.

Confidently Broom grasped both sides of the copper bowl and the sparks were discharged through the mixture of her own blood and the alchemical concoction. A brief crack and the room filled with the familiar smell of ozone.

The stirring spoon dropped into the bowl. Broom was concerned that she might have accidentally shocked her helper as she no longer felt his presence. She would have to apologize next time, but for now she waited with excited anticipation as the black liquid began to ripple and undulate. Ever so slowly the contents began to pull away from the sides, forming a glistening black mass in the centre of the bowl as whatever was happening started to give itself shape and form.

At the same time, Broom felt another presence. She shared in the thrilling experience as her little formless blob started to become aware. She laughed happily as little white bubbles floated to the surface of the blob and resolved themselves into little eyes. Perhaps a few too many eyes, but it didn't matter as she experienced its... no, that wasn't right. As she experienced the feeling of Their first glimpses of the world.

The shiny black blob coated in little white eyes then began to stretch and elongate slightly into a vaguely teardrop shape. Long thin appendages emerged from the lower half of the blob, nine in all.

Eight of the appendages formed into slender arachnid like legs, six ending in points while two others ended in slender little claws. The last appendage was a thin little tendril that ended in a notched spine.

The little creation lifted itself up on its new legs and took its first tentative steps, slowly skittering around the copper pot until it felt confident enough to climb out and onto the table where it began exploring all the equipment and apparatus.

Broom felt their curiosity and shared in their excitement. It came quite as a shock to broom when the rather large spiderlike creature turned its too many eyes towards her and made a faint little screechy sound that she understood completely. "We are Us?". Broom picked Us up and patted it, its many eyes watching her hand approach and then blinking shut. Us' tendril tail undulated happily. The whole project seemed to be working out so far.

She could only share Us' feelings, Us wasn't completely part of Their thoughts but that was by design. Broom would be able to cast her
mind about nearby looking for thoughts and keeping far away from the Other while Us could cast her mind out as far as she wished. Roaming freely to look for the most distant thoughts without attracting the Other's attention if all went as planned.

Us did her little screechy sound again "We should clean up the table before We are introduced to Our friends.". Broom nodded "That's a good idea Us."

She placed the scorpion down and Us immediately began skittering about the table top dragging things around and helping to tidy up.

The next morning Broom was brimming with barely contained excitement which was at odds with her slightly haggard appearance. The dark (unusually so) circles under her eyes suggested that she had not gotten a lot of sleep the night before.

She greeted everyone for breakfast but was uncharacteristically quiet for the meal even though by all appearances she was eager to say something.

After breakfast was done and the plates cleared she quietly ushered everyone to her room. "We have something very exciting to show you!" she exclaimed, relieved to finally be able to let everyone in on the surprise. "We have had some, um, troubles lets say when We go looking for other thoughts. But then We found some thoughts that had a way to fix that, so We decided to try it out. But none of that is important!" She waved her hand dismissively at her own words as she continued to babble.

"Anyway, We have a surprise! But, We were told that you might be uh... concerned so We wanted to let you know that it is all OK. Ready?"

Broom went to a table neatly stacked with simply alchemical devices and little envelopes and bottles of herbs and chemicals along with her doctors kit. At the centre of the table was a large platter with a copper bowl placed upside down on it. She directed everyone's attention to the bowl and waited a moment before lifting it to reveal the creature beneath.

The creature's body was shiny black. Its teardrop shaped body sat atop six slender spiderlike legs and tapered back to a long thin flexible tail tipped with a notched white needle. Two slender arms up front ended in thin, delicate looking claws. All together it could be vaguely described as scorpion like, however its most odd feature was that the front of the teardrop body was made up of a mass of little white eyes that tended to blink and look around independent of each other.

Upon being revealed, the little creature focused all its little eyes on the group and waved its little claw at them before skittering back and forth across the platter, finally doing a little twirl. It's long thin tail undulated rhythmically. One would could hardly be faulted for describing the creature's antics as 'happily'.

Broom beamed as she placed her hand down and let her creation skitter into her palm. Its legs made it easily span the size of her hand. She held it up proudly. "This is Us! We made Us last night."

Us made a quiet and slightly unnerving screechy sound.

"Oh, right!" Broom responded. "Us suggested that We explain that Us is called a familiar, but a little different than the kind that a mage makes." She paused for a moment and Us made some more little screechy sounds as Broom listened.

Broom cleared her throat and spoke as if reciting an essay "Unlike imbuing a common animal with part of their spirit to awaken the familiar, binding it to its master, Us was made from Our own, blood through an alchemical process. So Us isn't just a part of Our life, but also a part of Our body."

Broom beamed as Us squeaked something at the group.

"Us says you can't understand Us. Us says hello. Oh! And watch this!"

Broom cupped her hands together, holding Us between them. Us nestled in and immediately started melting into a black viscous liquid with its little white eyes bobbing on the surface. The liquid was quickly absorbed into Broom's hand leaving what appeared to be a black tattoo roughly in the shape of a scorpion on her palm.

The black shape began to slowly ooze up Broom's wrist, disappearing under her sleeve as she giggled. "It tickles when Us moves around like this."

After a few moments, the black tattoo re-appeared, oozing up from under her collar coming to a stop on her neck. Broom tilted her head slightly and a black liquid began seeping onto her shoulder, first forming a shapeless blob which quickly reformed itself back into the scorpion like creature.

John drops a plate of eggs that he was eating when Broom lifted the bowl and revealed the spider-thing.

"What the heck!!!" he bursts out.

"Why does it have all those eyes!!!"

Aaaand we're back! Just in case you all thought we'd lost our creepy touch...

"Why does it have all those eyes!!!"

Broom turned Us around with a look of concern. "We don't know, We think Us should only have had eight eyes but she has more than that. Us thinks it is because Our blood is..." Broom paused and stumbled over the next words "...different." She held up Us to John. "You don't think all the extra eyes is going to hurt Us, do you?" she asked, her voice full of worry.

Even Lachen is taken aback by the little girl "surprise", and stands speechless for a few seconds, his hand already on the handle of his weapon, his face a little pale.

I told you they were powerful, these women, Lachen...

Concentrate on something Ilike.. Take a few deep breaths..Close your eyes.

Slowly, Lachen finds a way to calm himself, an even regain a sort of smile that many girls would find lascivious, if not lustful. He looks at "Broom" in a different way.

I always liked tatooed girls..especially when you have to find out where the tatoo might be.

His hand let go of the weapon's handle.

What is "Us" purpose? what are its powers? You says its a part of your body, does that mean that you get hurt if it gets hurt?

Wow, seriously good RP, in a creepy way! I like it!

That was awesome, Broom! I mean, I absolutely hate your new pet but the posts were great. :D

I'm with Karl on this one.

Reine had managed not to jump out of her skin when Broom revealed her surprise, though her expression was definitely one of concern, rather than the joyous acceptance of a new friend that Broom had probably been hoping for.

"Uh," Reine said, grasping for something positive to say, "You made 'Us?' Last night?"

"Yes! When We came to the agency the first time, there was nothing for Us to do so We let our mind wander, but something was watching Us so Our thoughts turned to how do We hide from whatever is watching Us. That's when We started bumping into thoughts that had ideas like this.

So, We spent a lot of time trying to learn how We could make something like Us."

Broom rolled up her left sleeve revealing a neat and tidy bandage wrapped around her arm with a single little black dot. "See, We used Our doctor knowledge that We already had to get Our blood and then mixed it with the alchemy knowledge that we got from other minds and finally put it together with the creation knowledge from still other minds to make Us"

Broom thought a moment "We could show you how We did it, but We don't think We could make one for you. Although Us' extra eyes were probably because Our blood is different, it is because of that that We were able to make Us, otherwise it would have been a much much more difficult thing to do."

Broom looked at Lachen "Well, Us can do this!" Broom got a little thread and a couple of strips of linen from her pack and handed them to Us who proceeded to deftly loop the thread through the notch in Us' tail. Then taking the two strips of cloth in her claws, Us carefully lined them up and with a deft thrust of her little stinger passed the thread through the cloth. She then carefully pulled the thread through, looped it around and hooked it through her notched tail once more for another pass. Although a little slow and laborious, Us' stitching was perfectly serviceable.

Us gave a little screechy squeak. "Oh, and Us can try to find thoughts on almost any subject we would like. Just like We can, but Us is much better at it. Are there any thought you would like Us to try and find?"

Reine slowly closed her eyes, breathing very slowly.

"I think," she said, "that perhaps another time would be better."

Desdemona, far from being repelled, had watched with great interest as Us had wiggled about, then become part of Broom. Her cheeriness of the day before had evaporated, returning to the brittle smiles and furtive eyedarts they had become accustomed to. The reason wasn't hard to find - while she had been shadowless all the previous day, she no longer was. Her shadow orbited her in tandem with the ioun torch, opposite poles, dark and light, above and below.

Her hand drifted to touch the spot where her amulet had hung the previous day as she regarded Broom's "tattoo." "Broom... is Us under your control?" she asked, her gaze intense as her shadow began to stretch out, longer and longer.

Desdemona smiled nonchalantly, with desperate eyes. "Us is truly fascinating. Perhaps we can speak more at length later, if you would. I rather think we might write a journal, to document your discoveries. I shall see what Winter might bring us. But for now..."

"Can your mind, or Us', reach the fort? Might you predict what we could find there? Or rather, who?" Desdemona seemed oblivious to the others' reactions to Us, and Reine's carefully controlled answer.

She clasped her hands and smiled, smiled, smiled. Her shadow was once again its normal size.

Lucky shambles over and munches on the dropped eggs.

John continues to stare at the spot on Broom's robes where her new pet disappeared.

"We don't need any more of those .... please don't make any more of them."

"Well, We can find thoughts about the fort, but We wouldn't be able to tell if the thoughts were from inside the fort. We can't pick the thoughts we see, only the topics. But We can certainly try!"

Both Broom and Us gazed off into the distance for a moment as they cast their minds out to find out what they could about the fort.

Kn(): 1d20 ⇒ 2 +2 for local, or +7 for history, nobility or engineering.

Broom's assist Kn(everything): 1d20 ⇒ 5

Broom frowned as she was unable to find any thoughts that were helpful, but more distressing was that Us seemed to go completely off track. Us became fascinated with the myriad of possible thoughts and became distracted by unrelated minds. She began following minds that weren't thinking about anything to do with the fort, or at least not this fort.

Broom gave a weak smile "Well, We still have to practice looking for the right thoughts, Us has only been aware since last night so We think it will take little time. But don't worry! We will keep practicing, We promise."

She turned to John "We don't think We can make more than one of Us, even if We wanted to . Its a tricky thing."

Broom patted Us and put her on her shoulder where Us liquified and oozed back into Broom's skin again.

"Well, We are ready to go back to the fort if everyone else is!" she exclaimed, still buzzing with excitement about introducing the new piece of her to her friends.

"But could you m... ah," Desdemona finished in a gasp. Composing herself, she looked up with a smile.

"Not to worry, Broom. Yes, let's get to the fort right away. We... we wouldn't want anyone else poking about it now that the undead are no longer reanimated. Not before we find something of interest."

She glanced ever so slightly Lachen's way.

Is he a spy? A tool of the nobles we met?

There was no answer. But she knew better than to be relieved.

If we're restocked, let's head out!

Fort Hailcourse was quiet as a tomb when the group arrived back at the still-open front gates the next morning. The bodies- undead or just dead- were all still where the group had left them yesterday. With no immediate threats to deal with, the Briarstone survivors searched the ground floor starting with the door leading west off the lobby.

The spacious first room (D2) overlooked the fort's courtyard and was full of bunk beds, small chests, lockers, stools, coal braziers, and wash basins. The beds were all carefully made and gear was stowed neatly away. Clearly a barracks for the fort's soldiers, and just as clearly empty. There are a dozen Fighter's Kits, Gear Maintenance Kits, and Grooming Kits here if you care to pick them up.

The next room (D3) appeared to be a second barracks, furnished in the same fashion but with stripped beds and no gear stored in the lockers. There was a neatly stacked pile of camping gear in the southwest corner of the room, though- it looked like the room was being used for spare storage. There are 3 Campsite Kits here as well as a hooded lantern and a box of 20 tindertwigs.

The unused barracks made a sharp turn to the right, leading into a third barracks (D5). This one also seemed to have not been in recent use.

Next was a short hallway (D6) leading to the courtyard or the dining room, both of which the group had already been to. Immediately noticeable were the dirty, drying, webbed footprints from the stairs to the dining room.

I think I missed a description the first time you came through here and messed up D7- that's supposed to be an office but I think I described it as a kitchen? The kitchen is D8. I'll give you the correct description now.

Sharing a wall with the kitchen and with a door to the courtyard and a door into the dining room, the magistrate's office (D8) was furnished with a wooden desk, the front of which had the Ustalavic coat of arms carved into it, a small cabinet, and a chair. The walls were almost completely covered by draped woolen tapestries, probably an effort to insulate the room from winter cold.

I'm going to break there because that's a lot of text. It doesn't appear that there are any enemies waiting to ambush you on this floor, so you can take your time looking through rooms. After D8 I think the only other room you haven't looked in on this floor is D10, which I can describe in a subsequent post.

As the group returned to the fort Broom's mind kept wandering back to something Des had said. "Do you really think We should write a book?" she whispered to Des as they arrived at the Fort's gate. "We like that idea, that includes Us as well. When We get back to town We will pick one up. Everyone can be in it." she added.

Once inside she cautiously followed the group through the rooms, absently rubbing her neck where Us resided every now and then as if petting her. Even giggling once "Stop moving, that tickles" she whispered, chastising her new companion.

While going through the barracks, Broom was pleased at the general order of everything. "Does anyone mind if We take one of the armour kits? We can use it to help keep everyone's equipment in good shape." She also considered whether to suggest that everyone pick up one of the grooming kits but thought better of it not knowing if that might be taken as a criticism.

"Oh, we can use one of those as well if it is OK. And maybe these too?" she asked upon entering the second barracks and discovering the camp kits, tinder twigs and lantern.

Upon packing she was suddenly confronted by the worrisome revelation that her magic pack did indeed have a limit to how much it could carry.

Did we investigate the office already?

Lachen takes a grooming kit, and a maintenance kit too.

He looks for most recent tracks and possible activities around

Survival: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Do we now how many soldiers were stationed here? It seems a little odd to me than one barrack was tidy, as if a few soldiers were out of the fort before the events and didn't come back yet..

"I think it would prove enlightening," Desdemona told Broom with a more genuine smile. "Perhaps for all of us." She watched Us move about with interest, but made no comment on its... exploration.

Desdemona was thrilled to find a grooming kit, despite the lack of a servant to carry it (and despite Broom's tact in not suggesting it). Somehow, it seemed... wrong to tell one of her companions to do so. Confused by the warring impulses of her current and past lives, Desdemona nevertheless noticed it when her shadow began to elongate and drift over all the things in the rooms they passed through.

shadow Perception D2: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24
shadow Perception D3: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
shadow Perception D5: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20
shadow Perception D6: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11

Desdemona gathered up all the tindertwigs and secreted them in a pocket. She was about to search the office, and its desk and cabinet, when she paused over the tracks.

"Shouldn't those be dry by now, if the things that made them are dead?" She looked up the stairs, suspicious.

Des Perception stairs AA: 1d20 ⇒ 15
shadow Perception stairs: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 8 + 2 = 12 LOL

John pulls Reine off to the side, nods at Broom, and asks: "When she says "We", do you think she means "us"" (gestures at the assembled party), "or do you think she means something else?"

Are the stairs in D6 going up or down?

Reine had just nodded to Des, and was about to say something, when John pulled her aside.

"I think it depends," she responded, quietly. "But mostly, I think she means herself, and all of the thoughts in her head." Reine gave John a tight smile, as if agreeing that yes, what she had just said had some... disturbing implications, but that now probably wasn't the time to address it.

"What do you think of those tracks?" she asked instead, pointing to the wet footprints Desdemona had pointed out.

Broom looked at the tracks everyone was examining and with a disapproving look reached into her pack and pulled out a little brush, dustpan and cloth. "We can take care of those."

John checks the tracks before Broom erases them.

"Probably more of those fish people, but let me take a look."

survival: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14

The stairs in D6 lead down. I don't believe you have searched D7, the office, yet.

John judged from how dry they were that the tracks were probably made the day before- consistent with the many skum the group fought yesterday.

Lachen found signs of a fight in the foyer, a fight in the courtyard, and an enormous fight in the dining room. There are about half a dozen guard corpses strewn around- from the looks of it the bodies were animated and made to fight someone- and more than a dozen dead skum in and around the dining room. Someone had made their way methodically from room to room, killing without mercy as they went.

This was organized, methodical slaughter. Whoever attacked was....

The warrior seems to be struggling for words a few seconds

Hell-bent, Lachen? Just say it...

determined to leave no survivor. The biggest fight was into the dining room. Undead guards were used, either as a last ditch defense or as a weapon agaisnt their former, living associates. That's all I can say

Desdemona briefly sported a small, cold smile, worlds different from the brittle, almost manic smile she otherwise wore. For those few moments, it was like something entirely different inhabited her skin. Her cold grey eyes sized up Lachen with calculating indifference...

...before she mentally stumbled. Blinking, her train of thought derailed, Desdemona made an automatic polite murmur of agreement. Catching herself, she glanced at Reine and John, then took an unconscious protective step in front of Broom.

"Yes, well, they were rather bothersome, you see. Come, let's search this room. If you two large fellows would care to go in first?"

Desdemona glanced at Broom and Reine again, just a trace of amusement on her lips. "To protect us, of course."

Once the door was open, (and assuming nothing jumps out to kill us,) Desdemona went about snooping blithely as you please. If her hand shook when the shadow reached out with it, who was to say it wasn't from nervousness at what she might find?

Des Perception AA D7: 1d20 ⇒ 12
shadow Perception D7 + AA: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 8 + 2 = 23

Desdemona's shadow slipped across the floor, first stretching then detaching itself from her feet entirely. It made a circuit of the room, slid under the desk, over the cabinet in the corner, undulated behind the tapestries, and finally returned to its... master? victim? with insinuating whispers only for Desdemona's ears.

John looks at Lachen and shrugs when he comments on the carnage: "Yeah ... that was us."

"Those dead guys were tougher than they look."

To Desdemona "No problem." he goes ahead and opens the door.

Desdemona's brittle smile grew wider, her eyes desperate as she stared at the cabinet. She stared until it grew odd to do so. Then a bit longer. All the while, trying to determine what the shadow wanted, really. Was it... trying to help her? Doubtful.

It must be trying to trick her, drive a wedge between her and the others who had seen its true form.

Clearing her throat abruptly, she broke from her frozen posture and pointed at the cabinet. "Ahem. Didn't we find a set of keys, earlier? Come try them on that lock." Her voice shook, just a bit. After a moment, she added, "...If you please."

Not sure who has the keys, but I'm assuming it wasn't Des, haha.

"Organized?" Reine repeated with a raised eyebrow, "Mostly, we were fighting for our lives. Undead came at us first, then fish-men, then a mix. I wasn't sure we were going to make it out of the dining room."

She stood behind John and Lachen while John opened the door.

Once it was open, she looked about the room carefully, but didn't enter - not once she'd seen Desdemona's shadow start doing its thing.

Perception from the Door: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14

Dicebot is angry still/again...

Broom's eyes went wide and with a small gasp she covered her mouth upon seeing Des' shadow back again.

She put her hand on Des' shoulder. "Oh Des, when did it come back?" she whispered, naively thinking the shadow wouldn't hear as it flitted about the room. "Would you like Us to see if We can find any thoughts that might know about It?" she slightly glanced and nodded towards the spectral being in a poor attempt at being subtle.

Desdemona was stiff as a board under Broom's hand; it was amazing that her neck didn't creak like a rusty hinge when she turned her head toward the other woman. "When I slept," she whispered. Her grey eyes were riveted to Broom's gaze, and her hand went to her throat, where the medallion had hung.

A careful look at the shadow as it drifted lazily over and around the objects in the room could still find hints of it, however.

"If you would, that would be lovely." Desdemona still thought that if the darkness was unwitting of her little parlay, she might get away with learning more...

...but her sinking feeling went deeper, to a pit of ice in her stomach, that feeling that the shadow did know. It just didn't care.

Was it hopeless? She couldn't believe that. No. NO. She wouldn't believe that.

Desdemona's lip firmed, and she nodded to Broom.

"I'll see about this cabinet," she said, perhaps a touch louder than normally. In the meantime, she mouthed to Broom, her eyes pleading.

Yet, when she tore her gaze away, she hesitated over the lock, key in hand.

"I don't suppose any of you have any experience with trapped drawers and chests and the like, do you?" she queried brightly, the stiffened smile never having left her face.

I do have a knack for mechanical things, even if my skills are a little rusty. Trouble is, I'm not that good at spotting traps themselves. I'm no professional burglar. So if you find a trap, maybe I can get rid of it, if it's not too technical.

THat's a partial truth, Lachen. You WERE a burglar, but not a very professional one. That's why you got caught.

She stood behind John and Lachen while John opened the door.

Once it was open, she looked about the room carefully, but didn't enter - not once she'd seen Desdemona's shadow start doing its thing.

The room was furnished with a wooden desk decorated with the Ustalavic coat of arms. The walls were almost completely draped with warm, woolen tapestries. It looked like this room was probably used by Magistrate Padgett to perform administrative work, receive guests, and informally question citizens.

A desk stood near the southern wall, while a small cabinet- the one Des was interested in- and chair sat against the northern wall. To the south was a spiral staircase that led up into one of the fort’s towers. Doors from this room lead to the lobby (area D1), the kitchen (area D8), and the dining room (area D9).

The one thing Reine noticed that Desdemona's shadow overlooked was that a small mirror hung on the back of the door leading to the dining room. Other than that, nothing seemed out of place or dangerous.

So, try the cabinet with the key without looking for traps or wait for John to check the lock? He's got trapfinding.

Broom muttered absently as she set her mind to wander among the thoughts "We can call on our invisible friend if you need someone to open the desk. He might be mad at us for shocking him last night, but We think he might still help"

She then assisted Us as they sought answers to Des' dilemma.

Kn(everything) assist: 1d20 ⇒ 9

Kn(?): 1d20 ⇒ 1 +7 or +2 depending on what type

Perhaps it was her excitement at having just recently been brought into existence, or maybe Us' purpose of seeking knowledge from thoughts was just too strongly ingrained, but the moment Us was let loose among the countless thoughts she immediately began chasing down every odd or exciting idea no matter how tenuous its applicability to the question at hand.

Broom meanwhile was constantly distracted with the futile task of coercing Us back on task.

The knowledge check might be irrelevant since the shadow is a class feature and its behaviour is a roll playing feature. However its all academic since it turns out that Us is just really really bad at the job she was created for! Broom isn't helping either =p

"Let me look for trouble before we stumble into something nasty." John says, putting out a hand to hold the others back.

perception: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 9 + 2 = 17

If he doesn't find anything amiss, he'll try the key.