Price sighs pleasantly at the glow of the burning prison and the crack of stones falling amid the crash of the storm. "It's a pity I couldn't find any meat skewers. I love a rustic cookout over open flames." She pulls the roasted carcass from the small fire she started near the building, heedless of how it burns her fingers. She tears a leg off and offers it to her comrades, "Owl?"
Xanos raised an eyebrow as he slowly accepted the tiny drumstick. It began slowly enough that it was easy to miss, but then his shoulders began to shake and his chest rippled. Beneath the mask, his muffled voice rolled and shook, getting louder.
Over the sound of thunder, Xanos was laughing.
Reaching behind his head he loosened a clasp and removed his prisoner's mask to reveal his hearty grin.
It had been a very long time since he had honestly enjoyed anything he had eaten. To him such things were more of a despised chore than an indulgence.
He bit down.
Nothing had ever tasted so good.
Price gives the tall man a surprised smile then bites into a wing, enjoying the gamey flavor. She salutes him with the wing and turns her attention to Grumblejack.
"You've been a good ally, 'Jack. Now, you are free and fed - what will you do?" She points in the direction of the nearest town. "There are many lil'un that way but probably many soldiers as well. Or you could go with us a bit further, if you like. Or set your own course."
Our group of villains travel across the Old Moors, making good time. The storm has started to recede, but only slightly. Making their way across, our group has the feeling of being followed, but nothing becomes obvious.
About half an hour passes, when a sudden bolt of lightning outlines a figure ahead of you. A tall, bronze-skinned, dark-haired and dark-eyed with high cheeks and a high forehead, he might be called handsome. Only a moment passes before another surprise. A giant toad suddenly comes out from the nearby marsh, charging towards Price with all speed. The two do not appear related.
The creature attacks Price from surprise, swallowin the woman in a single gulp.
Price
Xanos
Gwyndolin
Cain
Kalina
Grumblejack
Shulme
Lashtongue
Cain drops the loot-bag hanging from his shoulder, "Oh, for sh!t's sake! You!" Cain points at the stranger as he unslings his greatsword, feet already moving to intercept the freakishly big frog, "You're either helpin' or not movin' a muscle… the third option will be painful for you." Then his steps become a full-on charge at the frog as he grunts, "Grow'em damn big out here, don't they?!"
In the glare of a lightning flash, surprises dogpile Price. She barely manages a "Shu..ERP!" before she finds out how the owl must have felt. Consciousness is a blissfully short affair.
The tall stranger is leaning on his spear, watching the approaching group. He catches a glimpse of the lead figure's features for a moment, and smiles.
"Price."
The smile fades as she vanishes into the maw of a suddenly looming creature. Shulme reacts in an instant, raising his spear and moving swiftly through the darkness. For a moment it appears he is charging the group, but the real target quickly becomes apparent as he closes in on the frog, spearpoint flashing towards its eyes.
Longspear attack
Damage
Both Cain and this new contender move to strike the giant Toad, Price unconscious in it's mouth from it's sudden attack. Their attacks dig deep, inflicting severe damage to the creature.
Xanos watches for a moment, attempting to aim past the combatants, but then seems to change his mind and simply gestures with a whisper Cain had become familiar with.
Halting midway through his gesture, Xanos grits his teeth.
This weakness is occasionally quite frustrating. Such an odd sensation.
Locking his gaze on the frog he simply stares at it, waves of malevolance rolling off of him. "Put her down." he says simply.
Kalina comes up behind the Toad and sinks her blade deep into the creature, finishing it off with a well placed strike deep into the creature's brain. The toad falls to the ground, dead. Price falls from it's mouth into the marsh, bleeding from the attack.
GvLT
KvLT
KvLT CC
KvLT DD
The tall man stoops, an incantation in a forgotten tongue springing to his lips. Blood ceases to flow from Price's wounds as it responds to his commands, and the pain dulls as the spell calls her back to consciousness.
healing.
Cain is about to check Price's wounds when the stranger casts his spell. He doesn't even have a chance to come to Price's defense when her wounds close up. He kneels next to the man, keeping his eyes on the man as he semi-gently slaps Price to wake her. "So… you know Price?"
As he waits for her to come around, Cain can't help but survey the ground around them for signs of another toad. He sees none, though now that he knows what he's dealign with, he can see the thing's trail.
"At least we know where it came from…" he mutters to no one in particular.
Price, slick as a slime-coated foetus, rolls over, groans, then coughs up a mouthful of frog saliva. The sour expression on her confused face says it tastes as unappetizing as it looks. She pushes away from the dead amphibian and sits up, steadying herself.
She observes drily, "When I recount this in my memoirs, it will say that we were attacked by a Slaad Lord not some oversized toad... I'll thank you all to recall it EXACTLY the same way." She spits out more frog saliva and looks from Cain up to her tall benefactor, giving him a tight smile and a nod. "A pleasure as always, Shulme. Your timing is impeccable."
Price grabs on to both men and pulls herself to her feet. She straightens her hair, wiping away frog gack and trying to make herself somewhat presentable, "Introductions! Shulme, may I present my allies Cain, Xanos, Gwyn, Kalina, and Grumblejack - formerly residents of Brandescar Prison. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Shulme-Silule, a colleague of mine and no friend of Talingarde."
Introductions done, Price puzzles at the Osirian's presence in the swamp. "So, Shulme, looking for a spot to build a summer home out in this benighted marsh?"
Shulme glances at Cain, and nods. He helps Price to her feet, taking a moment to call the modern tongue to mind.
"And you are more resourceful than I had guessed. I had not thought to find you already out of Branderscar."
Shulme's gaze slides around the group as Price makes introductions, taking in the ogre with faintly disguised interest... and he catches his breath in surprise, staring past Grumblejack's bulk at the tatooed wizard. Price's second question is lost on him. His exclamation comes out in Aklo - sounding to untrained ears as if some other voice had suddenly begun speaking from the oracle's mouth.
"Keyseeker!"
Cain returns the nod. Apparently Price's word and a common enemy are enough… at least for the time being. Knows the business end of a spear, too, he thinks with grudging respect.
The tall, yellow-eyed man gives Price one last look, clearly nonverbally asking if she's okay, before standing to his full height, wiping toad guts off his thick blade before sheathing it. If the strange language catches it off-guard, he masks it well, becoming engrossed in double-checking the loot bag he dropped a minute earlier then checking their immediate perimeter for further threats.
Xanos had been watching the exchange with passive intrest, something nagging at the back of his mind, when the man locked eyes with him.
His eyes narrowed in thought.
"I have not been called by that name in a very long time, nor do I wear those trappings any longer. I suppose the thoughts behind the sentiment is as newly relevant, however. She calls you Shulme. I have only known by that name. He performed a great service to me, but vanished in it's execution. If you are he, then you have an interesting tale to tell."
Shulme takes a moment again to remaster modern speech.
"Yes, I do." he responds at length. "That service took a longer time than either of us guessed."
"I came to repay my debt, Price." he turns to Price, remembering her question after a delay. He glances back at Xanos.
"Was it your magic which led me here through the storm?"
His eye catches the bindings around the mage's wrists, and doubt creeps into his expression.
"If it is truly you - for I have long dreamed of things that no longer are."
"And I have longed dreamed things which have never been. At the moment, neither is of consequence. I can assure you that I am truly here before you, though I had nothing to do with the storm or how you navigated it. That was simply chance."
Shulme nods cautiously... then laughs.
"Well, I had not thought to find you like this. If at all! But there was magic at work leading me here - if not yours, then another's. A friend, perhaps?"
He glances around at the rest of the party, including them in his next words.
"You were moving quickly. You are being pursued - or you will be?"
Price dries herself with a few spare strips of rag, watches the two men quietly, and gathers information from the exchange. "The prison is in ruins and none escaped our net save those we chose to let live to carry the tale. Perhaps the fire will attract people from town, perhaps not. It just seemed reasonable to leave quickly while darkness and the storm aid us. We're heading to a meeting with a mysterious benefactor. Would you care to join us?" She gives Shulme an amused smile, "If you are lucky, it may be an elaborate trap that gives you the opportunity to settle our debt."
"So you are hers now? Good. She is worth your service, and you are worth having with us."
The matter settled in his head, Xanos turns to Cain.
"Which way?"
Cain is just completing his circuit as he's greeted by Xanos's question. "Welp, unless Price has a burning desire to revenge upon her toad's friend and family, I'd say we continue on across the Moors." His eyes touch upon the newcomer briefly before continuing on to Price, "Wanna go repay some toads in kind?" His lips split into a grin, "Kinda wanna see you swallow some toads."
He consults the map he's constructed for himself of the Moors in his head.
Cain looks around, his humor receding, "We should hit the town as the sun rises. And we'll lose our favorable weather about the same time. We should move on."
With that, he picks back up the loot bag, giving one last look at the massacred toad.
Price looks to the approaching dawn. "Much as I'd like to see if Frog's legs go well with Owl... I think we should go to ground before the sun rises. Let's press on to our meeting place. Cain, in your professional opinion, do we need to obscure our tracks more or will this storm be enough?"
Cain looks up into the lessening rain, "An hour ago, I'da said we'd be fine... now?" He looks around, eyes falling on the toad corpse, and he nods. "I'll cover our trail. We should use every natural advantage the Moors offers to confuse the trail, but I'll follow with these guts to see if I can make it all the harder to follow."
As Xanos walks he keeps an eye on the tracks being left by the people in front of him, occasionally altering or obscuring them in small ways with a wave of his hand.
"After escaping the prison, surviving the monstrous Lashtongue and crossing the moors with guard patrols at your heels, finding the house on the Old Moor Road pales beside your other accomplishments. As promised, a lonely lantern burns in the upper story. The place otherwise shows little sign of habitation. Old but well-appointed, the house is large, imposing and alone on its hill. Painted a dark green and surrounded by barbed wrought iron fencing, nothing about this place seems inviting or a sanctuary. Still, it is your destination. Where will you go if not here? You have an appointment to keep. Best not to keep your nameless benefactor waiting…"
Your group has made it's way to their destination, a new, yet old, companion in tow. Knocking upon the door of the house, you are greeted by a woman, a woman Price recognizes as that of Tiadora. The green eyed, silver haired beauty now wears a diaphonous gown that makes her look nearly angelic. “Dearest, you took long enough,” she says pitilessly. “We were beginning to wonder if you’d ever make it. Oh, and you brought friends. Moreso than even I would have though,” She glances at Shulme as she says the last bit. “The master commands all of you to appear before him but before that, you must be made presentable. Slaves!” She claps her hands. A dozen young attractive men and women all wearing very traditional servant’s livery appear quickly, their heads bowed. “These people are our guests,” she commands imperiously. “See them to their rooms. I want them cleaned, dressed and refreshed. Quickly.” There is something in that last word that sounds like a threat. Certainly the slaves take it that way, hustling to perform their duties.
Each of you are provided the services of one of Tiadora's slaves to attend to your needs, whatever they may be. Each are led to your own room, furnished not only in grand and expensive design, but quite obviously to the tastes of Asmodeus, is hand in everything in the room. A plate of hot food and a glass of rich red wine, as well as a drawn bath, is present.
A wardrobe in each room contains new clothing, amazingly sized to fit and in the wearer's paritcular tastes. A sure sign that someone has done their research.
Grumblejack too is lead away to receive his own treatment.
Price's tone is seemingly unruffled, "You gave me three days to deliver five people, did you not? Here you have seven guests arriving in one day." She gives Tiadora a winning smile, "You're welcome."
In her room, Price shucks her guard's garb and fingers the new outfits before sinking into a hot bath with a glass of wine. She doubts the servant would cause any mischief here, even so, a lifetime of caution has her keeping a close eye on her 'helper'.
Cain only half-listens to the back-and-forth between the hostess and Price. Just keep your trap shut and your ears open, he reminds himself as his eyes follow the firm bouncing of one of the female servants' hind ends. And dont' let your eyes get trapped, idiot.
It's a struggle to keep his mind on business as that's the servant given the task of getting him bathed and changed. Years of drilled in focus keep his mind where it should be (mostly)... the one luxury he allows himself is to let the woman give him a long massage as he soaked in the warm water.
His clothes are a surprisingly appropriate and comfortable outfit of serviceable but sharply-cut day-to-day threads of grays and browns, and he gives a grin that melts into a sneer as he catches the subtle wolf-head motif on the shirt. Right. The whole issue of these people knowing what I am…
It's enough to spoil the bit of a good mood the woman's hands had put him in. If she notices his agitation, however, she hides it behind a helpful and playful smile.
These people are good, he broods as he turns his mind to what's to come.
Xanos says nothing when they arrive and allows himself to be led away by the slave women.
Once in private he dismisses them. Baths were temporal things. Creature comforts which he had long since outgrown. A few moments of magical concentration and he was clean as he could be.
He spent considerable time inspecting the rune-marked bracers that were locked to his arms before finally turning his attention to the clothes that had been layed out for him.
He had to admit, they had done their research. The clothes they had chosen were garb he had worn many years ago when he went about his goals in a rather different fashion. Things had come full circle. Suddenly the clothes of his past were poetically appropriate.
Layers of loose black silk and dark leathers with silver runic embossing acted in place of the usual tunic and trousers, giving his garb an exotic feel. The patterns spoke of dark truths and the futility of existence, written in many tongues. He was shirtless beneath his outer robe, which hung open and loose, like a long hooded jacket, exposing the runic tattoos covering his broad chest and flat stomach. All that he added to the ensemble was the mask he'd been forced to wear in Branderscar, which hung from a strap on his belt.
Xanos had given up many of the concepts and comforts of normal civilization, but he understood the nature of power. It started with presentation.
Price reluctantly rises from the scented bath - finding it far too comfortable after the combined abuses of the last several weeks. She signals the servant/slave-girl to dry her. While the young woman buffs her with a thick towel, Price nibbles on the food provided and considers her new wardrobe.
She briefly debates questioning the young woman to learn more about the 'master' of the house. Probably knows nothing or knows enough to say nothing. We'll find out soon enough, I suppose.
Galvanized into action, Price pulls a dress from the wardrobe and lays it on the bed. She eyes the dark Asmodean vestments on their hanger with distrust. She recalls the last time she wore a similar set... at the behest of the Dark Father in a Rite she would have rather avoided were the priests not short-handed. It was the night she and Cain had been captured - snared in a trap and betrayed by an Asmodean who was clearly more than he or she appeared.
A flash of anger creases the plain woman's brow. That's a score I need to settle... and anyone who was there that night could be the spy, including the Dark Father himself. She amends the thought, with a slight smile. No, not everyone there. I know Cain's loyalties.
Price eyes the slave-girl, figuring she was probably trained to report everything back to Tiadora. Time to put her compliance to the test and create a smoke screen for my dear 'sister' just in case. She hides a smile and addresses the girl, "You're quite beautiful... Take off your clothes, all of them. If I'm here later this evening, you'll share my bed assuming you have no other obligations." She casts her glance on the bath and the wine. Her tone is imperious, "I'll expect that water to be fresh and hot when I get back. And you will be fully bathed and your mouth tasting sweet."
The seamstress watches the slave's reaction to her orders as she dresses herself. Price throws on a modest, medium length dress of grey silk. She wraps a silver cashmere shawl about her shoulder. Consulting the full length mirror, she is greeted by the sight of a well-heeled gentlewoman - conservative and tasteful. As an after-thought, she washes the blood and flesh from the Laughing Demon in the used bathwater. After a brief internal debate about taking the mace to this meeting, Price regretfully tosses it on the bed.
Shulme gives Xanos an unreadable look as Tiadora greets the party, but as Price leads the group inside he evidently decides to follow her lead.
In the room provided for him, he nods indifferently to the slave's offer of food and fresh clothing, but stops her before she can leave to prepare it.
"Before you go. Who is the master of this house?"
Price's tone is seemingly unruffled, "You gave me three days to deliver five people, did you not? Here you have seven guests arriving in one day." She gives Tiadora a winning smile, "You're welcome."
Tiadora only smiles as your are led away by the servants.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With a simple "As you command, mistress," the servant disrobes immediately, showing no signs of resistance to any command you give.
The servant responds simply, "I serve only my mistress. I am not worthy of more."
A servant informs you that the other guests have arrived and you will be meeting with them shortly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After everyone has been given time to recover from their journy and make themselves presentable, you are summoned to meet with Tiadora's master. Servants lead you to the stairs to the third floor, where you meet with Tiadora. "Please, follow me."
At last Tiadora leads you to a beautifully appointed office richly decorated with dark wood and sumptuous brocade tapestry. Sitting in a leather high-backed chair is a devilishly handsome fellow who smiles as you enter. “I believe you to be the first to ever escape from Branderscar Prison. Well done! Of course, you had help from the outside,” he says with a wicked smile.
“But enough with the pleasantries. You must be curious why I’ve helped you. Rest assured this is no random act of altruism. I have brought you here for a reason. My name is Cardinal Adrastus Thorn. I am the last high priest of Asmodeus left on the island of Talingarde. No, Miss Price, those you worked for in the past may have called themselves such, but those were mere puppets compared to what I have to offer. Once the Prince of Nessus was rightly revered alongside the other great powers. Now, the king of Talingarde has become a puppet to Iomedaen fanatics who wish to destroy any religion that does not bow to their ideals.
“For their blasphemy, I will see the same people who imprisoned and condemned you suffer. I understand what you went through for I have faced it myself.” With that, he pulls down the sleeve of his robe and reveals his own runic ‘F’ brand. “I am going to burn Talingarde to the ground and from the ashes I will build a new nation that knows its rightful master. I cannot do this alone. I seek servants worthy of our Infernal Father’s majesty. Have I found them in you?”
He rises and his eyes flash with hellfire and divine purpose. “Join me! Serve me well in this holy endeavor and I will raise you up in the eyes of gods and men. I will make you princes of the new Talingarde. Today, swear fealty to me and to Asmodeus.
“Put aside forgiveness and I shall give you vengeance. Put aside mercy and be made powerful. Put aside peace and become my harbingers of war. What say you? Will you swear your allegiance or will you burn with the rest of the blind fools?”
Cardinal Thorn pauses, waiting for your response, be it acceptance, refusal, or even a question you have for this man.
Price considers all the man has said, his clear resources, and every whisper she's ever heard within the Church... trying to ferret out his intentions and honesty. As he had pointed out, many within the Church had claimed the mantles of power and authority and she personally had found them lacking one way or another.
Xanos gives the cardinal his usual flat, unreadable stare.
"I am assuming that you know exactly who I am. You have made that much clear. A custom tailored outfit in the style I wore in the age of your great-great grandfather was waiting for me. You have planned this meticulously."
Xanos tilted his head and paused, considering his words before continuing.
"Which makes me question how you could possibly believe that I would ever willingly swear fealty to you, your deceitful god, or anything else in the whole of existence. I owe you for your help in getting out of that ridiculous prison, and I do repay my debts, but do not mistake that for any kind of hold over my actions or entitlement of service."
Having dressed himself in the nicest set of cloths he had ever worn (something the dandy son of a well off merchant might wear) and taking a set of voluminous hooded robes for when he was Teon, Fargo left his room.
As he followed the servant assigned to him out to the landing, Fargo catches sight of others also being being lead. They are a mixed lot and Fargo eyes each for a moment. A tough looking woman who has a military air to her contrasts strangely with the wispy girl walking beside her. The tattooed man both fascinates and repulses him. Repulses, for he seems alien and cold. Fascinates, for Fargo senses a skein of power that pulses through him. The second man seems feral, and powerful in more mundane ways. He looked at the last woman, who almost seemed to be herding the party up the stairs just as much as be lead up them herself. A second look, and he could not believe what he was seeing. It was
Miss Price, Miss Price. It worked, I did it. Fargo ran up to her, only to stop a few few away and look bashful.I did it Miss Price. I was able to summon a being of real power, and now I command that power. I never would've been able to do it if you had not helped and told me where to look.
Price turns on the stairs, surprised to see the slender young man here of all places. "Young Master Drinog? How unexpected and how nice to see you here." She gives an encouraging smile as he speaks, clearly interested. "That is very exciting news and I'm delighted that your efforts have met with success! Your potential always impressed me and I'm flattered if my small contribution assisted you. I'd love to discuss your discoveries more but..." She indicates her frog-slimed hair, traces of blood, the layers of dirt coating her, as well as the reeking guard's uniform and looks apologetic, "could our reunion wait for a bit? I'm very much in need of a hot bath and clothes that can't stand on their own."
Shulme takes his place along with the others, dressed in simple black that conceals most of his body.
His eyes narrow as the Cardinal speaks, but he watches the exchange between Xanos and Thorn wordlessly.
Xanos gives the cardinal his usual flat, unreadable stare.
"I am assuming that you know exactly who I am. You have made that much clear. A custom tailored outfit in the style I wore in the age of your great-great grandfather was waiting for me. You have planned this meticulously."
Xanos tilted his head and paused, considering his words before continuing.
"Which makes me question how you could possibly believe that I would ever willingly swear fealty to you, your deceitful god, or anything else in the whole of existence. I owe you for your help in getting out of that ridiculous prison, and I do repay my debts, but do not mistake that for any kind of hold over my actions or entitlement of service."
Cardinal Thorn grows a knowing smile perhaps awaiting this exchange. "Dear Xanos. Let me ask you this. Have you ever studied Asmodeus's doctrine, learned of his teachings, saw his ways in action? You may not realize this, but you have lived a great deal of your life in the way he sets forth for his followers."
Thorn stands from his chair and walks to a nearby window, staring outside though looking beyond. "In your day, you were a power, a force to be reckoned, that is no lie. But these Iomedaens took that from you, I'm sure you can see that. Asmodeus does not expect blind worship, fools who play such lip service are better served as tools, pawns to be used. Nor does he not reward those willing to aid him.
"You have lost a great deal of power at the Iomdeaens hands, and Asmodeus is willing to help you regain it. Not by simply handing it to you, of course. Neither of you would willingly debase yourselves by receiving handouts. No, he will aid you in regaining that which is lost. And all he asks in return is your loyalty."
Thorn retuns to his desk and pulls out a tome from the top drawer. The book is thick, blackened leather covers with gold trim on the corners. A lock seals the book shot, and most noticeable of all is the red symbol of Asmodeus ingrained into the cover. "Inside this book is a great gift to you, the secrets Arcane. It's pages have yet to be filled, but they can be if you so choose. A path to regain the glory you lost, built on the corpses of the Iomedaens who took it.
"The choice is yours."
"Yes it is, and as always, I choose my own choice. Keep your book."
Xanos looks to the five who had left Branderscar with him. "Should any of you need my aid, it is yours,"
And then to Shulme, "and should you repay your debt and wish to return to my side, I would have you. You long ago earned that right."
Finally he turns back to the priest. "I know well the doctrine of Asmodeus. I began my life similarly to these" he says with a gesture to the mentally damaged serving girls. "I learned much. Many of my beliefs came from service to your god when that service was new to the world. Today, I simply no longer need him."
"I will take my leave."
Xanos stands and makes for the door.
Cardinal Thorn continues as Xanos makes to leave. "A pity I cannot bring you into the fold, but I do have to ask. Even if you don't serve the Prince of Nessus, how far do you think you can make it without allies?"
"You would not be the only person to aid me who does not follow my beliefs. In fact, there is another in this mansion down below who has chosen another path. This doesn't change the fact that we still have similar goals.
"Talingarde will fall, with or without you. With your aid, it may be done quicker, more efficiently, and with you having a greater say in how events shall resolve. Do not join me as an Asmodean if that is your choice. Join me as an ally then, an ally in bringing down King Markadian the V, in bringing down Iomedae's worship in this land, in bringing a kingdom under our control.
"If you still need a reason, remember Branderscar. Remember how easy it was to escape such a prison. During the Asmodean purges, that prison would never have an escape, but it has grown soft under the current reign. That's how this entire land has become, soft and ripe for the taking.
"The book is yours, there are no enchantments upon it. Take it as a gift, the cover not a reminder of obedience or loyalty, but a reminder of who your allies are.
"Or do you find even the concept of Asmodean allies to be to your distate?" With that he turns his gaze to Price.
Xanos stops. "That is an entirely different offer."
Turning around, he looked at Price and Caine as if considering something.
"I will stay."