The priest shrugged at Sotha and then smiled at the sight of themanor.
Well, here we are. Let us hope our mysterious benefactor is still expecting us.
Malak shuffled up the steps and proceeeded to knock on the door.
Sotha smirked. "Apologies for any delay, but we could not simply make our escape like cowards. We had to slay the warden and sergeant at arms, along with every guard we crossed paths with."
Sotha said nothing, but seemed to balk at the prospect of being attended to by slaves. It wasn't a moral issue, of course, he just found the notion that he could not take care of himself rather insulting. "I need nothing, I can attend to myself," He said when he was asked if he was injured.
Malak inwardly scoffed at Sotha's lack of decorum in accepting a what appeared to be a very wealthy host's hospitality but figured the man probably wasn't used to such delights.
Thank you kind mistress. A hot bath and meal would be wonderful and much appreciated.
The priest took a draught of the offered wine just in case he had caught any vile diseases while galavanting about in the muck of the prison.
The bald man had no qualms about letting the slaves attend to him and his needs and for the first time in several days allowed himself to relax.
Some time later, refreshed and dressed to impress; Malak was more than ready to be presented to their mysterious benefactor.
Tragen looks at the woman for a moment before speaking. "We are here now," he says with a shrug, "and Brandenscar burns."
His gaze passes over the slaves as they come in, his eyes looking right throught them. After a pause, he follows to where they lead and allwos them to tend to him. Perhaps some noble. Nonetheless, it can't hurt to look presentable after a period of prison life.
Sotha couldn't help but chuckle, and then laugh, at what the man was suggesting, "You've included a would be kingslayer in your plan to usurp and replace the king? And you would grant me nobility for this? Why should I do for you what I would do for myself, when you offer nothing more than what I already possess as a reward?"
Malak had been about to answer the Cardinal when Sotha began his rant which included his own plans for the throne... the nerve of some people... Still, the priest understood the quest and desire for power better than most so he didn't entirely disagree. This was a Cardinal of the Dark Prince however and Malak knew his place. Some fo the things Adrastus said excited him and some gripped his spine with cold... last high priest?...father?.. did you survive the purge?.. These thoughts and the answers to their questions would have to wait... but the intent to wreak vengeance will not...
Forgive me Cardnial...and thank you for your assistance is engineering our release. We have already began the fires as Brandiscar smolders even now. May none of our brethren ever fear its scars again.
Folding his hands over his girth; Malak bowed low.
I for one, have already pledged my eternal soul to the Archfiend and am your to command Cardinal.
Sotha glanced at Malak and stifled a scoff, of course he would buckle immediately, he was a lackey to anyone who said the name Asmodeus. "Hmm, perhaps an arrangement could be reached. You don't seem overly concerned with rulership, and I am not overly concerned with religious matters. Grant my family the direct line of succession for rulership of your new nation, and I will agree to your plan. I would also prefer to be the one to end the king, but that is not required."
Tragen looked at the cardinal while the others talked. After a moment, he speaks. "I am promised to another. My Queen and Goddess, Urgathoa, who grants me what she will and knowledge to attain what I need in order to bring my true Queen, my wife, back to my side. Secondary to those goals, I can follow you. The idea of the razing Talingarde does have a certain appeal..."
Shalastar looks over the contract. His seductive voice whispers across the table, "I suppose a relationship with Asmodeus could be... mutually beneficial, though I had not previously held him in a very high regard. I have been curious about his power of course, and I know I was freed from Shadows by one of his clerics."
He looks up at the one they are to call 'The Master', "I don't normally submit myself to others, usually others submit to me. I have spent my time as the slave of a cruel mistress already. Can I submit myself again, without knowing if it will benefit my growing power and strength over the mortals of this plane?"
Malak read over the contract with a lawyers practiced eye...the Archfiend would bind us with a contract...very interesting that loyalty to the group is listed before one's self... Despite or perhaps because of his adoration and knowledge of the Dark Prince.
With a movement both swift and gradual, Shalastar reaches for the knife and quill. "I shall sign, then. To the glory of Asmodeus, and my own. And for any others who wish to join me in this quest, ultimately for power, and revenge." His voice purrs over the delicious word.
He slices across his palm, with a grunt of pleasure, and absorbs some of the purplish green blood into the quill's reservoir. He holds the quill as an instrument of power and erotic satisfaction, extended from two fingers. With a flourish of achingly beautiful swirls and intentional pauses, he signs his name to the contract, the darker blood contrasting dramatically and pleasantly with the red already on the contract.
Tragen looks through the contract and shrugs. "My soul and worship is already given to another. A contract will not change this. But I will offer my service under these terms as nothing in it will conflict with my other obligations. It is likely even that their goals may be aligned in some ways."
He makes a small incision to allow for the blood to flow and become the ink for his own signature as he signs the contract.
Sotha nodded as Tragen spoke, before stepping forward to offer his signature. "Indeed, I will sign this as a contract to keep and be kept. I have little interest in religious matters, and see little in the offering that will change my mind on that. Still, I pledge to abide by the terms of this agreement."
Following the lead of the others, Sotha pricked his finder and signed the contract in blood.
..."he shall reward the Bound as they deserve for their deeds"...hmm...interesting wording that...
Malak didnt think long before whispering the First Prayer to the Dark Prince and slicing his palm with the ritual dagger. He watched the blood ebb into a pool in his palm before using the quill to sign his name.
And so we are united and bound to the Arch-Fiend's cause. Glorious indeed. What's the plan form here Cardinal?
Momentarily entranced by the sight of the glistening blood still on his bluish purple palm, Shalastar looks up with an equally intense sensual appraisal. "A very good question. What happens next?"
Shalastar of course looks over the offered 'companions' but if he sees no creature of particular beauty, he ignores them. Their wills are, after all, already broken.
He spends the next few days training his mind with the texts available in the mansion. He learns more about the Lawbringer, Asmodeus, and his realm, Hell and its denizens, though he knew some already from a limited exposure on the Plane of Shadow. He also studied some of the legal texts, learning the art of deceptive wordplay.
He does ask (on the third day) if he might reserve two of the offered companions to 'try something out on', especially if his fellow adventurers do not avail themselves of the pleasure.
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Sotha spent much of the three days in solitude, studying the spellbook he'd taken from the warden's chamber. It was satisfying work, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. The first night he went to sleep, hearing his own whispered name from outside his door as he slipped into slumber. The next night the voice came earlier, and he was able to pursue it. The voice taunted him, always just behind the next corner, or beyond the closed door as he pursued the knave. His sword was drawn, ready to strike down the fool that could be so impertinent as to call to him and run away. Finally, the voice led him outside, in front of the manor, where he found a sword, but not just any sword. It stood up, as if on display, the blade's tip was buried in the dirt, and it was like no weapon Sotha had ever seen.
The blade of the scimitar was black, and seemed to have the consistency of sandpaper along its side. The hilt of the sword was more elegant, though no less menacing. The guard was spiked, mostly toward the blade, with a bit that curled back toward the wielder, offering some protection for the sword hand. The grip of the blade was formed in the shape of a winding serpent; it created a grip that seemed designed to fit Sotha's hand alone. The pommel of the sword was in the form of a crimson jewel that was about the size and shape of an eye.
Sotha reached tentatively for the blade, uncertain of what was happening. When he touched it, the whisper he'd heard on the edge of perception flooded his mind. It told him that it had been seeking him, that he was to be its instrument, as it would be his weapon. Sotha cast aside the scimitar he'd taken from the prison in favor of this weapon, and returned to his room. He told no one what had happened, though he made no attempt to hide the obviously new sword at his side, or the fact that it was with him always.
Malak took full advantage of every luxory that was provided. He ate until that little knot in his throat hurt, bathed until his bulk was wrinkly and enjoyed the offered companions until he was spent and sleeping.
When alone he read the holy texts and whispered solemn prayers to Asmodeus. He felt his power burgeoning although he knew he was still a long way from gaining a position as prestigious as that of Cardinal...one day...one day...
Tragen was not one for luxuries. The servants were meaningless to him, even as a 'companion'. My wife is my only companion. I will bring her back to me. She will live again...
During his free time Tragen would excercise and practice battle forms, working himself into a sweat and beyond until he reached exhaustion, where he would collapse into his bed, to awaken once again with the servants arrival to bathe and feed him. This seemed to be a process that would repeat itself until... There must me more... I cannot sit around here forever. The 'Master' must have some plans for us...
Tragen began to explore the manor house hoping to find someone who could tell him their purpose here, before returning to his exercises.
Tragen finds the hauntingly beautiful woman as he wandered the manorhouse. "May I ask some questions of you?" he asks.
Tiadora motions for him to enter the seating area and he joins her by the fireplace.
The aasimar stares into the fire for a moment before speaking again. "You gave some assistance to us in order to escape the prison and gave us this destination, and I offer my thanks for that. We are here and we have signed the contract, yet I tire of this period of inaction with seemingly nothing in the works. Each day is another that keeps me from acquiring the knowledge and experience I will need in order to return my beloved to me. What is to come for us now?"
Shalastar emerges from the room that had been prepared for him wearing a new robe of purple, blue, and scarlet silks and sheer fabrics that revealed everything and nothing, a delicious tantalizing design that was both masculine and feminine. He was fortunate that such fabrics could be found in the mansion, but he did not put it past their patron to be a man of many means, some of which were more extraplanar than others.
He makes his way to the common seating area and finds Tragen and Tiadora. "Not discussing something too personal, I hope." The seductive whisper is soft but somehow manages to reach every corner of the room.
"I am hoping that 'soon enough' is very soon indeed. My wrath boils within me and I shall need an outlet soon enough," Tragen says grimly.
He accepts Tiadora's gifts, turning the silver symbol over in his hand. "Is this something we must carry for a purpose? I have no need of such a symbol, but you can add such a symbol for my Goddess Urgathoa to the list of needs."
He looks over the circlet and places it on his head. Concentrating for a moment, his image ripples and shifts as the aasimar takes on traits that make him look more... human. Flush instead of pale skin, blonde instead of silver hair, and a less crystaline set of green eyes. He looks down at himself and nods. "Indeed, it could be of use."
Shalastar also accepts the presented gifts. The symbol of Asmodeus he holds lovingly. "It really is quite a beautiful design though, isn't it? And remember, Tragen, for a time, you are the servant of two masters." He giggles as though that were a very funny joke. "Perhaps the symbol is a way for Asmodeus or the Master to keep track of us. I once heard that Asmodeus could do that."
He also places the silver circlet on his head, where the dyes in his hair bled onto the silver. He watches Tragen's transformation with some interest. "Lovely. Let me try. We do this all the time on the shadow plane." With that he quickly changes into an aasimar with metallic golden skin, bright amethyst eyes and coppery hair arranged perfectly with a glowing halo behind his head. His diaphanous robes become pure white robes of snow linen. "Beautiful." At a thought, Shalastar changes gender to a female aasimar. "This brings back memories." He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, laughing a little at the deception and the beauty he would use to corrupt the world. Before the image bruised and bloodied as though it had been tortured for weeks. Finally Shalastar releases the image, returning to his own form. "A lovely thought for a lovely gift."
"Danger. Already loving it." The possibility of death seems to be one pleasure that Shalastar has already been exposed to.
Tragen looks at the Cardinal for a moment. Escaping the unescapable Brandenscar and razing it to the ground was not enough... Now he wants us to fetch a piece of jewelry he hid below as a test... Idiot.
He then nods, "We will succeed," he says matter-of-factly and follows Tiadora out of the room.
Malak had been lounging in one of the overstuffed chairs as his slave finished giving his scalp a fresh shave, rubbing it with oils and then giving him a much needed massage to his wide shoulders. He was still sore from their harrowing escape and what could only be termed a march to get to the manor...and now this talk of what had to be dank, dark chambers underground...which will surely ruin my robes... He sighed and pulled said robes up and back over his torso signaling his massage was over.
I have no doubts as to our success. Shall we begin now?
He sent his slave to fetch the leather pack of items he had ordered.
"Of course, dear Malak. No time like the present." The words escape Shalastar's lips in a suggestive purr. He himself uses his silken scarves to tie his robes up higher, so they are no longer dragging on the floor beneath him.
"I actually am looking forward to a challenge of our combined prowess."
"Deception is fun. Self-deception can be even more fun. These Asmodeans sure know how to kill a good time." Shalastar pouts beautifully.
With little warning, Sotha drew his sword and looked at it for several moments, nodding along as if receiving instruction. He looked up at the the others and spoke. "In my time in the army, I was known, or would have been, if I hadn't tried to kill the king, for bringing about the surrender of a large group of goblins. The reality was that I was trading with several tribes, weapons from the quartermaster's stores, in exchange for the most worthless among them, to be executed as bandits. They might be an asset later, if we cross paths again. Anyway, I suspect this is a riddle. We will likely be expected to find a way to put these words into action in the chamber beyond. It would do us well to keep an eye out."
With that, Sotha marched ahead, into the next room. He kept watch, as he'd instructed, for anything of interest. As he walked, he could be heard whispering, to nothing apparent. He mumbled "You've shown great insight since we met, I hope you will not go silent now." He scowled at what was apparently a reply heard only by him.
"Do you suppose its safe to go in?" Shalastar asks, a bit giddy with the thought of stepping into a room to his ultimate destruction.
Malak recited the inscription under his breath...'Deception is a tool. Self-deception is death. Deceive always thy enemy but never thyself.'... and grinned inside his now manicured beard as memories returned.
I have heard these words before and the Nine Lessons I imagine relate to the Nine layers of Hell. At its base I presume its meant quite literally and for our endeavor we should consider the group as 'thyself'.
He looked at the doorway they were to enter with skepticism.
I wouldn't be too hasty Shar. Our Lord is known to weed out the foolhardy.
Sotha looked back at the others and wondered what was keeping them. He said, "It is as likely as not that the solution will become clear within the chamber, come on." He looked at the crudely concealed trap in front of him, and pointed at it with his sword before adding "Watch for traps, like this one."
If it was possible to avoid it without any acrobatics, he would do so, even if it meant finding a handhold on the wall and climbing around it. If not, he would wait for the others.
Tragen steps in and looks around and at the floor in front of the door. "A trap? In front of the only door in this room? Perhaps the message was literal, as you suggest, Malak. Is it 'self-deception' is to think that the door is safe? Perhaps there is a way to disable or circumvent the trap, or look for any other 'deceptions'" he says, "rather than us each trying to climb or dance around it."