"That seems reasonable, Byron."
After they get out of the hospital and into the streets, "I've decided that Grosso isn't involved with the poisonings. He's an opportunistic parasite, but I don't like him for the crimes we've seen to date. To generate the poison we've seen in the last few days would require the services of alchemists. If he already had disreputable alchemists at his disposal, why was he wanting to recruit you to do some underhanded alchemical work? I'm back to thinking it's Sylphan terrorists. After we meet up with the others, we should swing by the local Maker's chapter and see if anything suspicious is afoot, unless they have better leads."
Recovering with surprising speed, the hound lopes over and sprays its foul, fiery breath upon Fi, Odebie, and the two Misters. The smell of burning sulfur and dumpster fires engulfs you.
"Llosgfynydd yn cael ei cyfrgolledig!! Stay out of the smoke, it's poison. We're coming to help!"
Osric moves up to Leoni and Lara and waits for the beast to make a move. "Get back, we'll hold it off."
Byron stops suddenly as he sees the hound. He considers his options, then shrugs helplessly.
"I'm afraid I haven't quite got the formula for types of bombs other than fire so I might not be particularly useful here."
"Cover our rear, then! These things don't just wander the streets. Someone put it here, and I wouldn't be surprised if it's an ambush."
The pain of the fire washes over Odebie almost sends him to the ground, and it's all he can do to cover his eyes and nose with now-charred hands. Rallying, he hefts his hammer and, with a short step forward and pained cry, sends it swinging at the mutt's head.
After the hound spews forth its toxic breath, Odebie immediately swings toward it head. The beast, still shaken by Odebie's earlier command, takes the blow across the temple.
Jumping back from the smoking rubble, Leoni nearly gets hit by an AoO bite from the hound, but Osric deflects the thing's head at the last moment
Lara cowers next to Leoni. They both draw crossbows, but do not shoot.
Byron moves south to cover the group's rear.
Fi decides to stay defensive this round to see if the group is sticking around to fight a volcing elemental or if you are deciding to run.
The hound swipes a paw at Fi and Odebie. Fi dodges; Odebie steps into the blow
init
Hound 22
Odebie 18
Osric 14
Misters 13
Byron 7
Fi 6
Osric steps up behind Fi and Odebie . "No chance to outrun this beastie. Odebie has the right idea here.
I'll cover you. You guys take it out."
Osric adopts a defensive stance .
+4 to Fi's AC .
+4 to Odebie's AC .
Byron looks around anxiously, searching for any watchers or ambushers.
An arrow zings past Byron's ear at a steep angle, then cuts through the junction of the sylph's shoulder and neck. It hurts a great deal, but no major arteries were hit Another two arrows clatter and clack around Byron's feet.
Byron dives to the side and mixes a bomb, then tosses it up at the archer.
Crying out again in pain as the elemental savages him, Odebie reaches for the core of iron hanging from his neck and feels cool crystal running through his veins, soothing the pain of his wounds and staunching the bleeding. "Run, both of you! I can hold it here for a while." He yells to the Misters. With the grace of the Grey Father still running through his veins, he brings his hammer down on the smoking mutt's head again.
, Fire Resistance 5, so that's 5 damage and Fire in the blood kicks in to heal 2 of it in the next round.
Fiodelise looks to the Misters, if they look like they are going to flee at Odebie's direction, she'll follow them, in case they run into further trouble. Otherwise she'll activate bardic music and call on the spirits for aid.
After the hound swipes Odebie, the burly oread steps forward, and lands another resounding blow directly on the beast's left eye. The remaining eye glows with a baleful red light. The scent of rotten blood and pulped flesh mixes with the toxic stench of the fire.
Osric watches the hound's movements while the Misters take defensive shots at the hound, both of which go wide.
Byron tosses a bomb onto the roof and partially connects with the archer.
Fi starts up her song...
The hound focuses its hateful eye on Odebie. He barely ducks in time- two fierce swipes whistle above the oread's head.
The archer lets loose one last arrow at Byron before running away.
init
Hound 22
Odebie 18
Osric 14
Misters 13
Byron 7
Fi 6
"Rarrgh!! You don't make sense!"
Byron winces as the second arrow slashed him, but he ignores Fi's song. He'd never really cared for music, especially not rage-inducing songs. It seemed that fire was getting to be an issue, however. Fortunately, he knows a lot about fire... including how fire can be used to put fires out. It was just... very tricky.
He mixed up one of his bombs, adding in a bit of a different mix than usual, then tossed it into the heart of the flames.
The smoke starting to tickle his lungs, Odebie steps into the elemental's blind spot and swings his hammer again. His veins still sing with the blessings of the Grey Father; the reflections of the firelight on his hammer twist strangely as he brings it down.
Counts as both magical and adamantine.
Odebie once again brings his hammer down swiftly and forcefully. There is a loud snap as the beast's shoulder joint and leg bone splinter apart. It falls to the ground with a heavy thud.
Osric's neck brace hampers his movement, and his blade goes wide.
Leoni coughs loudly and collapses. Lara drags him away from the smoke.
Byron misses the larger fire, but connects solidly enough with smaller northern fire to blow it out.
Fi tries to finish the heavily-wounded hound, but the thing's hairy smoldering hide turns the blow aside.
Incredibly, the hell-hound's one eye is open and alert, staring with red-veined malevolence. The beast's bruised ribs creak as its putrid lungs fill with air. A second later, you are assaulted by the smell of burning hair, horse manure, and freshly-cut onions.
Init
Hound 22
archer - fled
Odebie 18
Osric 14
Misters 13
Byron 7
Fi 6
Osric deftly dodges the worst of the foul breath. He looks at the beast and the sword in his hand and reconsiders his life choices.
"I think you guys have got this. I'm going to go check on Leoni."
Osric moves over to the unconscious Mister and attempts to treat him for poison.
Byron frowned. He'd been a bit off. He mixed up another batch and tried to put out the fire again.
Fiordelise swings at the hound agein, somewhat ineffectually.
Odebie, once again setting his will against the hound, ignores the putrid breath and crushes the hound's snout with his hammer.
Byron successfully puts out the fire with another bomb. The smoke begins to disperse.
Osric quickly treats Leoni with a sweet-smelling herb that eases his breathing.
For an instant, it seems that the beast will never go down. Slowly, it weaves on its legs, then abruptly falls to the cold stone street with a resounding thud. The light goes out of its one remaining eye.
Osric takes a couple of deep breaths as things settle down.
"Someone persistent and powerful really wants you dead, Leoni. I'm not sure who, other than the church itself, is capable of controlling one of those things. So either the church wants you dead, or they have some nasty competition. I'm not sure which is worse. Best case, V'Manco is misappropriating their resources to cover his tracks."
He takes a moment to consider the surrounding area, at least as much is possible in the fog.
"Byron, I don't suppose you saw any details about that man on the roof? We need to get moving before he comes back with more help. Which way, Leoni?"
Byron shakes his head slightly. "The only detail I was able to determine about our assailant is that he is a rather good marksman assuming it was indeed a male I can't say I saw enough to be certain," he replies, reaching up to investigate his wounds.
Odebie rejoins them, limping slightly. "All that, and they were comfortable using a bow in the mist. Worse than the archer likely being a Mister, the elemental suggests the Temple is involved - and if the Temple is involved, there are few places in the city that are safe."
"Are you okay Leoni? Someone either really doesn't like you or doesn't like you working with us."
After a prolonged coughing fit, Leoni stands up, supported by his wife. "Thank you, Miss Incarna, I am fine." Clearing his throat, his voice sounds marginally better. "I concur with the Corporal; only a Mister could have made those shots. I caught a brief glimpse. Tall, well-muscled, and the coloration makes me think it was an ifrit."
Lara tugs on Leoni's arm. Some of you hear the word "cazzo" whispered.
"My wife is correct, of course. I am talking when I should be walking. Come." He leads you once again through the close, twisting alleys of the Slums.
As they travel, Osric shares his information and fills in everyone on his theory that these attacks are not being made by the Gaspers, but are instead aimed at them. He shares his idea that it might be Sylph terrorists, but downplays the idea in light of the continuing attacks on Leoni.
"Is it possible someone within the Misters could control a fire hound? If not, there are too many agents in play to make sense. A Mister taking pot shots, elemental herders, a cadre of poisoners, opportunistic gangs, and the Gaspers themselves."
He pauses and strokes his chin as he ponders the puzzle.
"Leoni, if the Misters themselves want you dead, perhaps going to HQ is not the best course. On the other hand, he shot at Byron, not you, and fled soon thereafter. It's possible he was hired to participate in the ambush and fled as soon as he was in danger or saw his fellow Misters. It could be he was there solely to instill doubt in our allies."
Lara says, "Whoever was on the roof could certainly see through the steam. However, they were not part of the Misters. We've been on lock-down ever since we heard about the neutrality being broken. Every Mister is at our headquarters, right now." She looks troubled, but says no more.
Byron frowns in thought. "Who would benefit from the Misters being removed I mean they work for most anyone who can pay right or is that not how it works but it's not like there's a lot of people out there who could fill in for them so maybe it's the people who don't want to be seen but the presence of the elemental is very troublesome what if there are factions in the Temple and one of them is doing something it doesn't want seen does anyone know about their politics in there?"
"Their politics are inscrutable to outsiders, but do not mistake their holiness for goodness. If it suits them, they are willing to skirt justice to meet their own ends."
"To answer your first question, those who benefit from the Misters being out of play are those who can see in the steam without them. If everyone really is back at HQ, then the whole Volc'ing slums belong to them. Use the Gaspers as your patsy to take the heat, distract the guards with riot control elsewhere, and you've got a great window to set up something big. The church wouldn't require these tactics, though. They would just take control. Back to my evil alchemists theory, have you ever heard of an alchemical method for granting mist sight?"
Byron cocks his head slightly to the side. "Not alchemical but I seem to recall efreets seeing through mists in old tales but of course I would think we would be in much worse trouble than we are if there were an efreet attacking us yes?"
The hairs on Osric's neck stand up as he considers whether tracking supernatural prey is a good idea. "That would answer some questions, but raise a whole bunch more. If someone was ddwl enough to summon an efreet then at least the temple isn't necessarily involved. In fact, it seems far more likely."
"If I had to guess why we're still alive, I think we had the good fortune of someone making a poor bargain with the thing. If they said 'sick the beast on them and shoot at them', then an angry fickle efreet might just behave the way we saw."
Osric strains his tired brain to see if can recall anything useful about efreet.
"Even more reason to get indoors as quickly as possible."
So saying, Odebie does his best to hustle the academics along.
When Odebie visited the Mister HQ earlier in the day, he did not see much; Lara intercepted him before he got close enough for the mists to part.
Now as you approach, the building refuses to resolve into a definite shape. The particularly observant among you notice the designs on the stout stone-and-marble building mimic the steam itself: A subtle, yet confounding, interplay of gray swirls, white blobs, and charcoal dots renders it all but invisible until you are directly adjacent to it. The only distinct part of the structure is the symbol of the Misters, a yellow eye, made of inlaid gold and copper, staring into the mist from thirty feet up.
Leoni touches a seemingly random swirl on the wall. Immediately, a thick door swings open, revealing...more steam. This comes as a mild surprise, as most buildings in the Slums are kept tight enough to keep most of the steam out. The billowing fog within the HQ seems to be as dense, if not moreso, than the fog outside.
Leoni, once more in control of his calm baritone, says, "My apologies, but you will be able to see very little."
In a louder voice, he says, "Brumanos Franco and Lara, reporting. These are friends."
There is no response.
Byron is curious about the Misters... and more, he is concerned about the events of the past couple days, at least as they relate to the hated Gasp trade. He follows Leoni, hoping for some hints as to the true nature of the formula brewing in Hearth.
Getting away from Efreeti with crossbows seems like a good idea. Odebie will follow the Misters inside.
Leoni says, "Stay close. It would not do for you to become lost." Leoni and Lara allow each of you to hold on to their cloak or pack, to act as your guide.
In the Steam Slums, the steam is an unpleasant companion. It clings to you, blocks your vision, and exhausts you. Within the Mister Headquarters, the steam is another thing entirely. It is a rabid dog, intent on drenching you in hot spittle, then chewing you up one soggy piece at a time. You are, in a word, enveloped.
Vague shadows pass by. You have no idea if these silhouettes are people, furniture, or products of your imagination. The rare glimpses you get of the walls show the same bewildering patterns as on the outside of the building.
A voice comes from the fog, startlingly close. In a rasp from old age or excessive cigar smoking, he says, "Franco! Perché hai portato gli stranieri in tempi così pericolosi? Spiegati!"