Giving everyone until sunday to finish with their downtimes.
Here's what's been done so far.
Calla left so someone should go ahead and snatche the treasure from her sheet and finish getting it split if it has not already been finished.
Bloodless has been working the dogs and rented an apartment to "share" with the destitute Asmodia who spent some time trying to restore the temple of Erastil until it was bought from her at a bargain.
Upon finding out about the noble hunting orphans thegroup has taken soem tentative steps towards stopping it. Right now the only thing for sure is bloodless covering captured rats in fresh b&&!@ piss to distract the dogs.
The NPC's have offered some help. Vitti has a literal Torble swarm in a bag that can be unleashed. Yakupolio has suggested a "switch" of prey but has not detailed how one would go about it. Asmodia and LeVash are debating their actual goal.
"Ideally, this is what I'd *like* to do, in order to spike the hunt without it being obvious that anyone has done so."
"Somewhere near the beginning of the hunt, Bloodless looses his b&%*$-urine soaked rats, ideally throwing the dogs off, and causing enough chaos to give the child a head start."
"Once they begin to move again, I'll release the torbles, preferably from underneath a sewer grate. I'll negotiate with them over the next few days to see if I can convince them to swarm up and chew on anything handy before they leave. Torble swarms happen, to my understanding, so we're still not outside the realm of bad luck."
"Yakupulio, do you have any disguise skills? Do you think you could successfully look like a young human child, at least at a distance? If so, you may be able to draw the hunters in the wrong direction while Asmodia intercepts the true target and gets him to a place of safety. At the end of the day, the child returns to wherever he is supposed to meet this man, collects his gold, and everyone wins...except our child hunter. Perhaps I'll arrange for some aristocrat to be in the area, so the skeezball doesn't try to welsch on his bet with the kid."
Yakupulio ponders for a moment before nodding. "Sure thing husky voice. Not terribly good at it myself but obscurity and misdirection can make up for it. You sure you don't want me to slit a few throats? I know a couple of guys..."
Asmodia shakes her head at Yakupulio's blood thirst. Aye, a right follower of Milani there, if never I've heard of one.
"Whatever could be more natural than a drunken mother pushing her filthy child about the streets of Westcrown?" she replies only lightly in jest.
"Aye, we seem to have different opinions about what is embarrassing. See, I would assume that allowing a child to return to diabolic scum alone would be embarrassing to us. But, I am certain that the gold will be worth the danger to the child's life."
AS Vitti replaces the cooing torble in its sack he speaks up. "I think the point Mr. LeVash is making Ms....um...Asmodia is that there is no us to be embarassed by. whether or not we succeed no one will know we were there. I think it's important that even the boy not see us. Arael does not want to make a powerful enemy of a noble not so bound to the laws as the hellknights."
Going to give a touch extra time so I can find a replacement for Calla. The recruitment thread is pretty dead. It's kind of sad. We might just have to live with 4 for now.
Awwwh, you make me feel like Asmodia's summoning abilities are not appreciated. That's a fifth member of the party on command. Assuming she's not casting defensively. And with Augment summoning, it's gonna be pretty keen now, too.
Keep laughin'. I'll summon... a small earth elemental to bash your house in...
Only, I can't because I can't speak their darn languages.
*sigh*
guess I'll just have to put spiders and centipedes into your bed.
Looking forward to summoning Hound Archons and Azatas and stuff. That should get some respect 'round these parts.
IC
Another paper revolutionary, Asmodia sighs loudly, and simply nods her head. "Aye. What great work the cause has ahead of it cannot be endangered for the life of one orphan. I will do what is tasked to me, and naught else," Asmodia states, her tone recalcitrant.
Of Orphans and b++%~es in heat:
The day of the hunt arrives and like it or not the time has come to put the groups ideas to the test. Bloodless releases the rats two or three at a time in various parts of the hunting grounds hoping the scent will mess with the dogs.
Vitti, with Bejis's aid, manages to break into the sewer not far from where the hunt will begin preparing to unleash the swarm of torbles on dog, horse and man. Yakupulio does her best to make herself chidlike.
Disguise
The results are remarkable. With her already somewhat boyish features the hairdye and bad clothes come together nicely.
As LeVash watches the home the hunting party marches from the mansions gates. At the lead is the orphan flanked on either side by a pair of broad shouldered men whose empty but alert gaze and thick arms suggest bodyguards they each lead a horse behind them. The orphan is a black haired chelaxian boy with dirty face and clothes but a face of steely all or nothing resolve. Behind them are a pair of figures that are obviously the noble and his guest Eccardian. The noble is doing his best to be somewhat witty but there's an edge to his voice. Seeing the guest from house Drovenge it's easy to see why. He's a golden skinned tiefling who carries himself with an absolute confidence. You can't help but note that no bodyguards from hosue drovenge are present. And the edge in Eravengio's voice suggests that this man is very very dangerous indeed. Behind that pair is a wagon piloted by a halfling slave and the bays and howls behind it suggest a pack of hungry hounds in the covered wagon. Behind that are several more bodyguards carrying crossbows and swords followed by a last wagon where three well dressed servant ride. On the back of it is another bodyguard and a third man in a cloak.
LeVash perception:
As they reach the customary hunting ground to give the boy an hour head start (they give him a length of rope and a knife as the only gear). The slaves adn servants set up tables, chairs, and food as the two sit and have brunch. From their stormdrain vantage point Bejis and Vitti watch as the two exchange idle chit chat regarding mundane things like the theatre, the state of the slave market, government spending, whose family fell out of favor, whose entire family history was erased etc. etc. The tone changes somewhat when Eravengio speaks of Eccardian's upcoming trip to oversee family holdings in another city in a far corner of the empire. Eravengio makes the mistake of making a dry joke about Eccardian's father who disappeared under mysterious circumstances enroute. A cold glare momentarily passes by Eccardian's face that returns quickly to mild disinterest. This entire time the slaves keep their eyes down and their hands moving while the guards fan out and look outward. The man in the cloak and bow eyes the two carefully and somethign in his demeanor suggests that he is not entirely benvolent towards these two. When the hour passes the dogs are brought forward, the horses are saddled and the wagons are left behind as the slaves and a couple of bodyguards to watch over them go about the business of packing everything.
Then the hunt begins in earnest.
Before it gets too far however the torbles are unleashed. Skittering about angrily and looking for thigns to bite and chew after their long imprisonment in the sack the swarm rapidly starts heading for anything that looks edible.
They manage to rip one dog to pieces and send one of the horses panicking before Eccardian, annoyed at the delay, sweeps his hands and a short wave of fire engulfs and disperses the entire swarm. Eravengio apologizes for the "rudeness of the terrain" and the hunt is on.
Within moments they lose the scent as Bloodless's rats scurry about and send the male dogs into a frenzy as some very upset rats run screeching away from the lusty dogs attempting to rape them. The whole ordeal is rather embarassing. Eravengio tries to get his dogs under control as the cloaked man watches.
However they manage to recover quickly and within moments they try again. Still not having the scent Eravengio resorts to his specialist. The cloaked man merely nods and checks the rubble for signs of the boy.
After a few minutes the cloaked ranger is on the scent and the hunt is on in earnest. That is when Yakupulio sets fire to a building (being Yakupulio this is hardly surprising you'd later be told) to get the hunts attention.
You do not see the cloaked mans face but when he notices Yakupulio he hesitates momentarily before he's off after Yakupulio. Yakupulio looks even more surprised as she seemed to have forgotten the part where they chase and kill her. Cursing colorfully she runs like mad using corners and narrow alleyways to confound and confuse horses and hunstman alike.
That's when things go bad for the hunters. Very bad.
Reports differ as to exactly what happened next. Some say that the child led them into a number of shadowbeast nests, the ruined being the msot dangerous part of the city afterall. Some say the boy was a member of some gang, or perhaps a member of the somewhat infamous Haloran League. Who knows. What is known was that the noble, and several of the bodyguards were never seen or heard from again. Eccardian escapes and after a thorough investigation by an order of hellknights its determined that he had no part in whatever foul play befell the noble. The cloaked man is initially said to have escaped and then jsut disappeared off the face of Golarion. The Hellknights want him for questioning.
For Yakupulio's part she says she knew of the shadowbeasts nests and is proud to say she did it on purpose, regardless of your feelings on the subject. However she admits to seeing the nobles body and she swears up and down she had no part in it. She tripped on his body and found it had a single arrow that had entered through the back of his head and came out through his left eye.
The ending gets mroe bittersweet. Without anyone paying attention to the boy specifically he was left outside, forgotten, at night, in the most dangerous part of the city.
The boy survives the ordeal, but not intact. He escaped the shadowbeasts and claimed to hae managed to escape the clutches of a shadowgarm losing an arm and an eye in the process. But bleeding, resolute, and now with balls the size of coconuts he managed to limp his way back to the dead noble's manor at dawn where the houses chamberlain honored the agreement and gave the injured boy his sack of gold. Who promptly crawled to a nearby church of abadar for some healing. The boy is said to recover and his harrowing tale of survival becomes the talk of the town for quite some time.
A summary of downtimes:
Bloodless: A profitable four weeks. You now have...some kind of relationship with a woman, steady work, lodgings, a minor leged. Things are looking up. Even the HAloran LEague members start treating you less with that terrible awe and more like a person. A weird person but a person nonetheless.
Asmodia: Going back to a life of barhopping (and bloodless hopping? is that confirmed?) after selling the church of Erastil is easy for you and beforelong becomes routine. You find later to some astisfaction that the temple was quickly demolished in a ceremony to Abadar celebrating the march of progress and the elimination of old ways. Erastil worshipers do not like this. But critics say that if such was an issue they should have done the refurbishing themselves.
Calla: Calla leaves. She cites "irrevocable differences of opinion". It probably doesn't help that she gained an unwelcome reputation as a transsexual insult comic.
Bejis: Life improves. Yet it's scary. Personal freedom is unusual to you as up until now your life has been dictated by the mandates of others. You never had a choice, only a well hidden faith. The Haloran League doesn't make a point of telling you where to go and what to do and as an employer Yakupulio is rather lenient it seems so long as you aren't trying to copulate with the "merchandise" or drink on the job she could care less what you do Your very presence is intimidating enough.
LeVash: Your suspicion of what you saw at the nobles hunt gnaws at you. You eventually find the heart to question him. He laughs it off and claims your seeing things flat out denying any involvement. You decide to leave the subject alone out of familial obligation and not to raise any suspicions to your own nocturnal dealings. Yet his mood seems much more cheerful then normal and you can't help but notice that some of your wardrobe has been messed with and a particularly dark cloak is dusty and smells of smoke, fire, and death.
Asmodia: Going back to a life of barhopping (and bloodless hopping? is that confirmed?) after selling the church of Erastil is easy for you and before long becomes routine.
Asmodia is an adult. She probably has been drinking the moon tea for months now, if that is the issue.
Calla: Calla leaves. She cites "irrevocable differences of opinion". It probably doesn't help that she gained an unwelcome reputation as a transsexual insult comic.
Need we pay alimony? Would this come out of the party fund?
Asmodia: Going back to a life of barhopping (and bloodless hopping? is that confirmed?) after selling the church of Erastil is easy for you and before long becomes routine.
Asmodia is an adult. She probably has been drinking the moon tea for months now, if that is the issue.
I'm not feeling quite that cruel yet. I figure someone as loose as Asmodia claims to be would at least have some access to a contraceptive. Even if its just the lamb skin variety.
Hey now, Asmodia isn't Courtney Love. She's not the type that would pose for Hustler. Liberal, not street walker. And clerics have good Fort saves!
And the city moves on...
Meanwhile despite your personal dramas, your adventures, your quests for glory and righteousness in the heart of darkness; the world turns.
Vizio's tavern is burned Lictor Richemar Almansor gives a speech about the dangers of free information and onlookers watch with a sense of dread. Janiven can only comment to you later about how they should be compensated for the cost of the tavern.
The executions go on without a hitch. People die slowly, painfully, and orderly. Just as planned.
And as the weeks pass more and more posters start being put up. The nightshade theatre's first play has been announced. The Six Trials of Lazarod. It's currently in the casting phase but is the talk of the town. The play has been banned for nearly two hundred years only performed in seedy underground theatre's or at grand expense at a noble's mansion with great discretion. Now however it seems that not only is the play being performed, but that the director has promised to perform the play in full. Something that no other troupe of actors has done before and lived.
As the four weeks pass and lives go on the party is once again summoned by Arael and Janiven for a secret meeting at the shrine of Aroden. They claim that only you five can do what is coming next and that everything you asked Janiven about from the begginning might be very close indeed.
It doesn't take long for you to join the Haloran league. You find out about the groups champion, there exploits, and there deeds, and part of you wants to meet them. But you hesitate. The group doesn't make a habit of meeting all at once but uncommonly and sometimes don't get along very well. In fact you hear one of the members left in disgust after one too many insults from the groups aasimar.
After hearing about those legends that the other League members speak of the group you wonder if they'll have a use for you at all. That is until you are summoned one day to the shrine of Aroden the group uses as a hideout...
Janiven can only comment to you later about how they should be compensated for the cost of the tavern.
Which in turn earns a scoffing rebuke and dismissal from Bloodless.
After the weeks pass, Bloodless answers the call.
"What news friends!?"
Asmodia arrives in her typical work uniform, a short peasant blouse with bell sleeves, an underbust corset that defines the narrowest part of her woman shape, and whimsical skirt that may or may not be hiding many pockets that swirls around her legs when she walks. Her red hair is tied in a pony tail at the crown of her head with a length of brown ribbon. She leans up against the nearest available piece of furniture and channels ale into her tankard does her best to not be entirely obvious that she is unhappy with the aftermath of the hunt.
"Might our services once again be required?" Asmodia inquires. "I believe that I have spent quite enough time... posing..."
You see an elf sitting across the room as you enter. At least you assume that it is an elf from the appearance of the bumps on the side of her head which is covered with a hood. Beside her you see a large finely crafted longbow and she has a rapier at her side. She is wearing a long traveling dress with numerous pockets. You cannot tell whether she wears any armor beneath her dress.
When she turns her head to look at you as you ender, you see a horrible disfiguring scar running from her eye to her chin causing her lips to be split so that she appears to have a continuous sneer.
As each person enters, she watches you, studying each movement, like a cat watching its prey.
Asmodia sighs, exasperation clear on her face and annoyance plain as she rolls her bright blue eyes. "Excellent. Another moody elven b*tch," she says, skirt swirling as she walks straight up to the silent failure of a stalker. "Good day, lady. I am what might be called your healer. Please, do feel free to criticize my healing in combat, or lack thereof if I wish to conserve my spells and abilities for the good of the group. Because, it will become clear to you soon, I am a slobbering drunkard with little sense and without your dulcet guidance, I would likely be unable to function."
As Bejis arrives at the hideout, he gives a nod to the newcomer, and a friendly hello to Asmodia.
Decided against it for now once we're properly in the book as it were I'll do it.
Wonder what's going on with LeVash he's posting on other charcters but seems to have missed this one.
After watching the others arrive and carefully looking at those already assembled, the elvish woman pushes back her hood and you see that she has pale skin, almost white hair, and a long scar running from below her eye to her chin.
Hello all. Please excuse me if I am short, but I have never had a way with words. I am Aerieth and I have heard tales of your exploits. I was asked to come here today to meet with you all and hope that my appearance will not offend any of you.
Looking at the woman: I do not know what your past experiences have been with elves, however here in Cheliax life is not easy for a freedom loving people. I do not believe that you will find me to be moody, simply quiet as I have found that my actions speak louder than words as my appearance tends to have an unsettling effect on people.
And with that, Aerieth pulls her hood back up and sits with the grace and agility of a noble.
Asmodia laughs heartily at the new comer and leans forward, flashing the expanse of cleavage she leaves exposed for the customers. "Your appearance has an unsettling effect, eh?" she says and flashes a grin. "Very well then, Mistress," she decides and lifts her tankard to her lips and takes a deep pull. "If you've need of refreshments be sure to look to me. I am called Asmodia."
Nice to meet you Asmodia. Should I need a drink, I shall ask you first. Although I prefer requisitioning them on my own, much cheaper that way and each time I feel like I am kicking Cheliax and its infernal overlords where the sun don't shine.
I give her a wicked, and probably scarry, grin.
Pavo stalks up to Solan during one of his few times home, "You[i], are an ass. I had things under control. There was a plan, and it was a pretty decent one, until you stepped in. Don't bother denying it, I'm not listening."
"I don't care that you killed that piece of filth, but you didn't [i]think about what came after. I know you're smarter than that, so stupid isn't even an excuse...you just didn't care. You never gave thought to what was going to happen to the kid. Well, you now owe that orphan boy an eye and an arm. How're you going to fix that?"
Pavo turns and walks away, ignoring any protests, only calling over his shoulder, "...and stay out of my stuff"
He flourishes the blackened cloak and leaves.
Two days before Janiven's 'summons', LeVash begins frequentng the church of Aroden again, occasionally talking to Vitti about his facility with the torbles, assessing whether he has buried talents.
He steps into the meeting, nodding slightly to Bejis, Asmodia and Bloodless, before turning to Aerieth, "Aerieth, got it. I'm LeVash". He sits without speaking further.
"Nice to see us assembled once more, and with common purpose to seeing the establishment of fair and just stewardship of the peoples. Welcome Aerieth, it is always pleasant to meet a like mind, and I hope our journeys, trials, and tribulations are to your liking. Life is indeed hard here for freedom loving folk, imagine how confronting it is to be so often treated as a tiefling"
It is good to meet you as well LaVash and you as well my nameless pale skinned friend. Yes, I am here tonight as I am interested in freedom from the absolute control of the infernals. I have visited other lands, lands where everyone does not live in continuous fear of persecution. This is what I hope the people of Westcrown will be able to enjoy with our help.
So as the new member of this group, what is our plan? Why do I have the pleasure of being summoned to meet you all this evening?
"Shade, and Great Hunter," Asmodia corrects with a giggle, and pulls herself up to sit on a piece of tall furniture, kicking her feet and swirling her skirts before casting to refill her tankard with ale, and gestures to Bejis with the brew and a grin. "And our dearest friend Bejis, of course. And I do believe that we were all wondering that ourselves," she continues and takes a long pull on her ale.
Asmodia licks ale from her lips and hums happily. "Might it have something to do with the mysterious Council?" she inquires.
Vitti seems to be in the tight grip of the Green whether he realizes it or not. Part of you gets a sickening feeling in your stomach that he might be some long lost relative. A cousin. Or perhaps a bastard child. He lives in an abandoned house on the outskirts of the city and makes his living making wooden carvings of animals from wood that is only naturally fallen from a tree. He seems quite proud of this. He even dyes his hair green. A color that is more "comfortable" to him. As to real power theirs potential, a great deal in fact. For now however it's unrealized and many of his tricks are just that, little things like attracting torbles using rat corpses or using a particular tree sap to drive male horses into a frenzy. Little things.
The temple now is nearly fully restored with the only things missing being the few relics to Aroden that would normally be commonplace in such a small temple. The furniture is polishes and clean, the dust is almsot completely gone, and for all intents and purposes it's a fully restored worshiping place of Aroden. Yet the pall of sadness remains, the emptiness, the loss. A shrine without its god.
As you all gather on the ground floor you are met by Janiven who spends a short bit of time chatting with you informing you that the Haloran league slowly grows and lists off a number of people whom you never heard of that have joined full time. She doesn't have any information about any Council. It might have simply been a codename for the Bastards patron for all they can tell. There are plenty of powerful nobles with plenty of coin to do it. Janiven suspects it might have jsut been the hellknights out to frighten the general populace.
"Aerieth heard of your exploits with the bastards and was eager to meet you. Plus I think she'll have some skills that will be of immense use to us upcoming."
Eventually the subject is broached on what exactly the group is doing. Janiven brightens up looking the happiest and most excited since....well since ever. Her own radiant beauty can't hide when she smiles and shares with you in an excited whisper. “We may have found a way to take back our nights! Come there's someone you should meet.”
Beckoning you to follow she takes you to the second floor of the temple where the general quarters and offices are. Like any temple of Aroden this one has a small library dedicated to the history of the temple and its surrounding area. Sadly the books were taken. Thus Arael has turned it into the Haloran League's general planning and meeting room; a place where he can speak privately with others in the group when necessary. As Janiven opens the door to this room still wearing her smile you see Arael inside with a beautiful long haired chelaxian woman with high cheekbones. Her well worn armor and sharp blade speak of a woman used to action and in character with this though she indeed has ber back to a wall when you enter. Arael smiles and greets all of you warmly.
"Excellent you've all arrived, please have a seat. This is Ailyn Ghontasavos of the Pathfinder Society."
Shortly after the lodge was closed, the shadowbeasts appeared. Hundreds died within the first few days. Hellknight, Dottari, Soldier and citizen alike fell to their black claws. It was only after decades of fighting them without success that the city managed to settle itself into a policy of curfew and control rather than bloody and fruitless combat.
As you take your seats Janiven shuts the door and stands by it as Ailyn speaks.
"A pleasure to meet you all. I've heard much about you." Her words are careful and tell you of quite a brilliant mind behind the face. Her voice is just deep enough to edge on the sultry. "Let us see if I can place names to the faces and reputations. You must be the mysterious LeVash I heard of you before I arrived in town a few days ago. Somehow I expected you to look more dashing, no offense, the tales often over exaggerate."
Then her gaze moves to Asmodia. "And you must be Asmodia. An unfortunate name. If it makes you feel better those priests of Abadar you dealt with are good men if a bit eccentric. I've met them before."
Then Bejis. "Bejis. I'm afraid there's not much I know of you except for your success in the bloody sands of the Egorian fighting pits. I'm not sure why Arael thought you'd be helpful but...the extra muscle will not go unwelcome."
Then Bloodless. "The great white hunter. The tales speak of you as a tiefling. I'd say they couldn't be anymore wrong. Aasimar, correct? Westcrown must be truly fallen out of light if they can't see the blood of the heavens flows in your veins."
And finally Aeritha. Though at the sight of her she gets confused. "Calla?"
"Aerieth." Arael corrects. "She's the specialist I spoke of. She's new to our band of righteous citizens but she will prove herself of that I've no doubts."
Ailyn nods. "Very well. Arael and Janiven have told me much about you and I myself have found out much as well. You're capable, brave, and msot importantly not aligned in any way with the House of Thrune or the Pathfinder Society. This last part is important because..." She hesitates not entirely sure to proceed but shrugs and says flatly. "I'm not supposed to be here. The Society has expressly forbid its members from coming near here. Were I found out I'd be expelled without question. So you see now why I've come to ask you for help and not my fellow lodge mates. Tell me, what do you know of Delvehaven?"
Asmodia nearly snarls when the lady says that her name is unfortunate, but graciously allows her to speak, enjoying the comfort of her ale instead. Her lord Cayden was known for his quick temper, and few might learn that Asmodia was too, in private, but she had a greater respect for authority than most.
"Only that which I can reason with mine own abilities," Asmodia replies, humming over the rim of her tankard. "That it is important enough to you alone to go against your people, and that suggests you think little of risking us."
Asmodia looks to Arael and frowns. Whom will it be to lose a limb next, brother?
"Dashing, no. Stupid, also no. From what I remember, the Shadowbeasts were unleashed at the same time that Delvehaven was sealed. Fron Janiven's hints, I'd presume the two are connected. Perhaps a guardian or ward that got out of control?"
"You could only guess at the level of my disgust in being confused with a tiefling"
Knowledge(local)
Listening to the others. Yup, sounds about right . . . LeVash. I think that the House of Drool decided that rather than protecting the citizens, it was easier to just impose a curfew, which has been in place for years now.
Looking at Bloodless: Only the uneducated, or the ignorant, would consider you a Tiefling, not that there are not pale skinned tieflings, but that would definitely have not been my first, or second, or third guess.
Ailyn looks taken aback by Asmodia's outburst and glances at Arael who shrugs.
"I would not risk anyone if I could help it." She stammers. "I was simply told you were looking for a way to remove the shadowbeasts from westcrown. But if you don't wish to risk yourself on my account I would not force it of you."
"LeVash is correct. Or at least partly. The House of Thrune would have done soemthing if one of their wards or guards went awry. No, I think the secret lies somewhere inside Delvehaven. I don't think it's coincidence that the society's barring from Cheliax was only a few days short of the shadowbeasts appearance. What's even mroe suspicious is that they decided to put up elaborate wards adn guards on a building no one's been inside of since Aroden's death." Ailyn pauses letting that information sink into your minds.
"I've done a lot of studying at the Grand Lodge of Delvehaven and its history. There's lots of talk about a pair of adventurers who returned with powerful artifacts that drove them mad. But beyond that things are sketchy. What's worse is the House of Thrune's love for revisionist history. One would be lucky to find a document that doesn't paint the Society as tomb robbers, lawbreakers, and demon worshipers. So I've reached a dead end. The secret's in Delvehaven I'm sure. But the wards placed on it would guarantee the failure of any attempt to procure that information. That's when I stumbled upon a useful clue. The house of thrune transferred guardianship of the lodge to the mayoral office. Specifically they handed over the keys and documentation about the wards and traps set. In all likelihood they'd be kept in the mayor's family vault. And as it happens the Mayor will be having a casting party in just over a week. One where all the actors and staff will be invited. And as it happens the director still hasn't found his Lazarod or his companions."
As she finishes Ailyn pulls out a large poster for the Six Trials of Lazarod. On it is a small advertisement by the famous director Robahl Nonon.
Wanted: 5 adventurous people to play the part of Lazarod and his four companions. Witless, weak, cowardly, sour stomached, and desperate need not apply.
Asmodia nearly doubles over laughing, but keeps a solid hand on the grip of her tankard.
"Aye, Mistress," she sings when she is able, wiping moisture from her eyes and taking a calming pull on her ale. "Seems our brother Arael told you nothing of our last outing. Our 'acting', mine own and that of my dearest Bejis is not in the least convincing. Whilst I gather that the Shade may have a talent for such, I am none too certain that the great hunter will sit to have rouge applied to the apple of his cheeks," Asmodia spares Bloodless a wink, and gestures to Aerieth with a nod. "Nor our good lady there."
Asmodia chuckles and drinks again. "Likely though, acting in collusion as we are sometimes wont, I am certain we can come to some viable alternative. An invisible and silenced Shade is far more likely to go where myself and Bejis would step on delicate toes to tread."
Asmodia chuckles and drinks again. "Likely though, acting in collusion as we are sometimes wont, I am certain we can come to some viable alternative. An invisible and silenced Shade is far more likely to go where myself and Bejis would step on delicate toes to tread."
Janiven shakes her head. "I know the place. The family vault is a point called the Asmodean Knot. If the rumors about it are true...well it'd be suicide to go in alone. Not to mention you have to get back out through the mayor's manor guards again. With the plan she's proposing you'll go in fully armed, fully ready, and unmolested. The mayor does love his theatre." She finishes the last statement with heavy sarcasm.
I lower my hood and look at Ailyn. You are surely jesting. If you want someone to scare the children and give them nightmares, then I am your girl. If they want to keep the audience from fleeing in freight, then perhaps I would be better as a stage hand or in some other non-performing capacity.
Or I could simply disappear into the shadows and watch from the sides.
LeVash shrugs, "Hidig a scar is more difficult than adding one, but not impossible. I'm more interested in why he can't get regular actors to take the roles...."
"I'm sorry, what exactly is this Delvehaven? And why would we go armed to a casting party?
Bejis looks skeptical of the merit of the plan.
"Whilst I gather that the Shade may have a talent for such, I am none too certain that the great hunter will sit to have rouge applied to the apple of his cheeks," Asmodia spares Bloodless a wink, and gestures to Aerieth with a nod.
"You've been inadvertently applying rouge to my cheeks for weeks now, and so far you've not heard a whisper of complaint from me aye?" Bloodless smirks and gives Asmodia a wink of his own.
"An interesting plan, count me in"
Asmodia hums into her tankard when Bejis debates the merits of the Pathfinder's plan. "That is an incredibly astute observation, Bejis. One would certainly be foolish to so easily dismiss someone who survived pit fighting arenas, would they not?"
Asmodia finally sets down her tankard and ceases swinging her legs like a child, hopping down from the piece of furniture to stand on equal ground with the Pathfinder. "Now, whereas my skill with arms would be laughable and certainly fall under the term 'acting' I do not believe that any would dismiss Bejis so easily when he prepares for battle. Please, do tell us why one who is so clearly in possession of great skill would be overlooked by any competent guardsman?"
"I think I can answer that, and my own question as well. Looking at this flyer, I don't think Nonon wants actors...he wants the real thing. In a bid for verisimilitude, he wants a blooded warrior to play his hero, Lazarod, and persons of similar inclination for Lazarod's companions."
"I do have two concerns. Is this a casting party, or a cast party? Would we have to get the parts in order to attend? I it's truly a casting party, then we can be as incompetent as we like, we'll just blend in with the hordes of other hopefuls attending. If it's a cast party, we have to already be in the cast...somewhat trickier."
LeVash shoots a look at Ailyn, "And more troubling, suppose we succeed? Success in this case means obtaining the means to break in to a Pathfinder lodge that the Pathfinder Society itself considers so dangerous or embarrassing that they don't even want anyone to {i]talk[/i] about it...a lodge that the House of Thrune warded, more likely to keep things in than out, one in which apparently some object exists that drives people mad. I'm not sure how much that rates as Success."
"I'm willing to make the attempt to get the keys, madame. I reserve judgement on who has to open the door until I see a bit more information."
Arael crosses his arms and shakes his head. "Because you'll be expected to go to the party in full costume. The Six Trials of Lazarod is a murder play. The torture is real. The combats are real. The danger is very real. To date no cast has survived all six acts of the play. And there lies the trouble. And the opportunity.
Sources tell us that Robahl has rejected every actor and adventurer that has auditioned. He's promised to deliver a full uncut version of the play and he seems rather serious about it. He wants people to shwo up with every piece of gear they would use so they can be used in the play.
Ailyn believes that after your exploits you'd be perfectly suited to survive the play. At that point you'd be the talk of the town. And honored guests. If you slipped away for a few hours and walked away with thirty year old documents and a key no one would notice for months. Perhaps even years if we're lucky.
Janiven pipes in. "And you'd be famous across the whole empire! You'd have the people's ear. You'd have the personal vote of the mayor for Desna's sake. Even if the Asmodean Knot turns out to be bunk we'll be one step closer to showing Westcrown that it doesn't need devil's or Thrune, or hellknights."
Even as the group voices a protest Ailyn cuts in. "I can promise you anything you face on stage would pale in comparison to what the hellknights would do to you if you were caught in Aberian's Folly. And Delvehaven, dear Bejis, is the name of the Society's former lodge here. It's been closed for almost a century. Which is what makes the effort the House of Thrune went through to lock it up bizarre."
"It's not so bizarre if you want to control people's lives." JAniven growls.
"I don't like the plan." Arael admits. "It's participating in something barbaric and cruel for the sake of decadent entertainment. But, if you don't do this then they'll hire someone else. Someone desperate or foolhardy or both. They would in all likelihood die. It turns my stomach."
Now that you think about it you have indeed heard of the play. It's infamous in theatre circles. Murder plays are nothing new in westcrown but this one is particularly nasty. The first time it was shown there were riots all over pre Aroden's death westcrown for days until the play was banned. It was still shown of course in seedy underground theatre's and private manors. There's even rumors that suggest the play is very popular on two or three layers of the nine hells where all the devils are real on top of the tortures and monsters.
You also know that the mayor is a massive theatre fanboy. This showing of the controlversial play is simply one in his many attempts to bring "culture" back to Westcrown. Considering that, perhaps it's none too surprising at all if he did insist on inviting you to his manor for an days long party involving gallons of alcohol, a potential orgy, and the decadence only the dark adn desperate nobility would have.
"I think I can answer that, and my own question as well. Looking at this flyer, I don't think Nonon wants actors...he wants the real thing. In a bid for verisimilitude, he wants a blooded warrior to play his hero, Lazarod, and persons of similar inclination for Lazarod's companions."
"I do have two concerns. Is this a casting party, or a cast party? Would we have to get the parts in order to attend? I it's truly a casting party, then we can be as incompetent as we like, we'll just blend in with the hordes of other hopefuls attending. If it's a cast party, we have to already be in the cast...somewhat trickier."
LeVash shoots a look at Ailyn, "And more troubling, suppose we succeed? Success in this case means obtaining the means to break in to a Pathfinder lodge that the Pathfinder Society itself considers so dangerous or embarrassing that they don't even want anyone to {i]talk[/i] about it...a lodge that the House of Thrune warded, more likely to keep things in than out, one in which apparently some object exists that drives people mad. I'm not sure how much that rates as Success."
"I'm willing to make the attempt to get the keys, madame. I reserve judgement on who has to open the door until I see a bit more information."
"Cast party. Actors, guests, and staff only." Ailyn says. "As to the lodge itself? Well there should be documentation detailing the traps and wards at least. As to what's inside? I wish I could say. The House of Thrune has erased any history regarding the place. Almost as if it never existed."
"I don't like the plan." Arael admits. "It's participating in something barbaric and cruel for the sake of decadent entertainment. But, if you don't do this then they'll hire someone else. Someone desperate or foolhardy or both. They would in all likelihood die. It turns my stomach."
"Son of a b*tch!" Asmodia hisses, tossing her tankard aside.
"No more disfigured children."
Asmodia all but glares down Arael and appears almost to tremble with high emotion. "But you are not, are you?" she spits, then looks to the pathfinder. "Neither of you will. But you'll claim the victory later, I am certain.
"I stand beside my companions," Asmodia volunteers, and looks to Bejis and finally to Bloodless. "If we cannot divide and conquer, then none will leave my sight."
"Westcrown needs angels, and here I am to give it one"