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Eddwick will make us walk the straight and narrow path. Or else.
Ulave laughs, and then remembering something, goes out and ties up his donkey so that it doesn't wander off and explode.
He pulls out a bottle from his bag. A honey mead made from his uncle's meadery in Bulddry.
Come, though we are tired, let us drink to the memory of Rurik, and to a world with less evil in it.
With that, Ulave pops out five fingers, on each finger is a tiny drinking bowl, for each to take.
To Rurik! To the Lady of Sunshine. To the HoneyBee!
Agyen wears his thin smile. The broadest that he seems to possess.
"I will partake, gladly, and toast all of those."
"Agreed, he did not die in vain, we should remember him."
Konstiantina inclines her head as Ammonis mutters his jibe, clearly unperturbed, and instead raises her hand so that her faerie dragon alights upon her wrist, its iridescent wings beating slowly as it peers curiously at the mage by the window.
"I believe Zephyr is curious about your own companion in turn, Master Ammonis." At which the faerie dragon launches himself aloft, hovers for a moment, and then darts out the window with a backwards glance, as if daring the other dragon to follow.
"And I agree, Master Lyon. Divining is a precarious business, but fortunately we are not alone in attempting our divinations. Our gods and goddesses may see fit to both intercede and interpret, allowing us mere mortals to gain some form of guidance in how to approach the future so as to best effect our desired outcomes. It is, however, an unreliable business at best."
When Eddwick proffers the tiny drinking bowls, the ambassador takes one and sips solemnly from the honey mead. She inclines her head gravely as the others pay their respects.
That done, she returns the bowl and smooths the luxurious fabric of her robe across her lap. "Now. If you are willing to accept me amongst your number, what do you all believe we should tackle first?"
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Eddwick nods. "Yes! I should probably have marked where I put it, come to think of it. And then put other marks to confuse the enemy...You were joking!", the gnome laughs out, before slapping his knee.
Taking the cup, Eddwick nods at his companions, sampling the drink in his hand. Ooh. Is that... hmmm... there's bound to be a lilac thicket next to where the bees are... fermented for "no more than 7 and a half months... Buddry waters have a little more alkahest than I though...", the gnome stares at the wall, starting to babble to himself once more. "Oh! To all those, and to a life filled with joy, fulfilment, and close friends.", he adds in a calmer tone, seemingly back in the moment.
As Konstiantina brings up the topic of the next expedition, Eddwick scratches his chin. "Oh!", he looks at the others. "I know I was gone, but Miss Konstiantina Mokei is a very knowledgeable individual.", he gives a smile. "And knows even more about the practical applications of theurgy and the arcanum arts than I do. And she has a ghost horse!" Rubbing the end of his left eyebrow, he adds. "I'd say we go and see about the missing caravan. There's a chance someone might've survived. And a caravan by itself would be nice to have around here, if we're setting up for longer." Wood goes into ramparts and spikes, and we can build a watchtower, and we can dig a new well, and..., the gnome seems to once again zoom out into his own head.
Eddwick, that may be a good idea. Also, I suppose we might go and visit some of the shops. The apothecary for instance, though no doubt their potions of healing will turn us to frogs instead. I hear there is a hermit too.
And that undertaker...
Ulave stands up and stretches.
I need to lure it outside of the camp so that I can destroy it.
Turning to Ntinaki, Ulave makes a small bow and thanks her for her hospitality once more.
I will sleep now. Rest well my friends.
"One thing you two should be aware of is that some of the Lich's allies escaped. They were vampires and fled after taking more of a beating than they could stomach. They might seek us out for revenge but they'll be far less potent without their master leading them. Ulave wanted to pursue them but battling the Lich had left us fatigued and low on magical resources. I was happy not to tempt fate further... but if they cross paths with us again I will be contented with seeking their permanent destruction."
I take it that this cottage is a... magical construct. Ammonis says that it is a difficult spell, but one whose permanence depends on the presence of the caster? It may be a good idea for us to invest in a more permanent abode, one which we can lay solid claim, spiritual and otherwise.
"This is indeed a magical construct. One I have grown fond of, but which only persists for up to thirty two hours at a time. I can thus maintain its presence continuously if I so desire, even if I remove myself, or revoke it so as to summon it elsewhere. It is as strong as a normal stone building, and resists flames and fire as if it were stone."
"The door, shutters, and even chimney are secure against intrusion, the former two being secured with arcane lock spells and the latter by an iron grate at the top and a narrow flue. In addition, these three areas are protected by an alarm spell. Finally, an unseen servant is conjured to provide service to us all for the duration of the shelter."
Ulave you misrepresent me. I spoke of tinyhut, a spell with more constraints and fewer amenities.
Peace of the Hippocampi, Cornu Ammonis the Reviled. We might have had the flesh melted from our bones if not for your tiny hut.
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Pulling out a couple of ceramic jars of different shapes and sizes, Eddwick glances at Konstiantina with interest. "Hm. Arcane locks are a mystical curiousity, and one I both love and hate with equal measures! As for the chimney...", he pauses, feeling the weight and the size of the clay pots. "Perhaps a shaped charge in the chimney, shouldn't be threatening to the structural integrity... Ceiling looks very sturdy, if you don't mind me saying so! Could probably withstand at least three ballista shots!"
He claps his hands. "Hm! We have been gone for a while, should we perhaps ask what's been going on in this little town?", the gnome inquires, the tone more suitable for a man going to a market day at a nearby town, rather than The Camp. "There may be people looking for our aid, new and exciting travellers. And maybe even pie."
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"At the very least, we should face the Usurer. To claim reward, or to face betrayal, with a good night's sleep and restored power behind us. Assuming we survive that meeting, I would not tarry long in this camp before seeking the caravan, or other worthy task."
"And on that note, I believe it best that I use a few spells now, to benefit from them before dawn's restoring rays."
In short succession, he does so.
And his face seems to shift slightly.
"I'm intrigued to see how he reacts to the news. After our previous experiences in this town I have expect him to tell us that was the wrong lich, that was the official landscaper and we're under arrest..."
Konstiantina eyes Eddwick's clay pots with misgiving.
"I appreciate the offer, Master Eddwick, but don't think it necessary. Many thanks."
That said, she draws out a silver bowl and mirror from her pack and sets them on the table before her. "In the same spirit as Master Agyen, I, too, shall take advantage of what spells I have yet memorized and see what I can learn of this Usurer. The odds of catching him in a revealing moment are slim, but the risk is slight and information is invaluable when sizing up a potential foe."
That said, she snaps her fingers, the unseen servant bearing a pitcher of water over to fill the bowl, and then sets the mirror before the bowl. She raises her hands, chants a series of words of power, and focuses over the pool of water for the next hour, working her way through the powerful incantation.
The minutes tick by. Despite Konstiantina’s concentration, the water in her bowl reveals nothing of the Usurer.
With a frown, Konstiantina waves her hand over the bowl, disrupting its smooth surface, and sits back with a sigh.
"Frustrating. Still. It at least confirms that the Usurer is a being of uncommonly strong willpower. Let us see what more we learn tomorrow."
"Indeed. But as you say, we know. I am content to stay awake until the last two hours, if further discussion is desired."
"Or he's taken precautions. Through magical or mundane means there's always a way to counter things if you are clever enough and have the resources."
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Ulave woke early, feeling unusually refreshed and eager to meet the challenges of the day. He began with his daily regimen of hygiene and fitness, necessarily brief but effective. He then oiled the wood of his bow, and inspected the bow string for wear. Satisfied, he arranged his things in readiness to depart, unrolled his prayer mat and began his prayers.
What would he face this day? Which one of them would die today? Who was the Usurer? Would his Lady come to him?
He let each question come, and let each question go, as he had been taught to do, though it was never easy, until, eventually, it was as if he had walked through a mirror and into and out of his own reflection, and into the dark, where he an infinitesimal stationary point felt space pass through him.
He stood in his lady's garden, and she brought him a bowl of honey wine. I grant thee boons of power, vision, and of healing. And then she was gone, and Ulave sat there listening to the heady buzzing of bees, not yet willing to go.
Ulave, my friend. Rurik?
Ulave felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, Ulave started, for no one was there, and he was back in his room.
1st
----
Know the Enemy
Liberating Command
Veil of Positive Energy
2cd
----
Aura of Greater Courage
Litany of Righteousness
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The Usurer smiles. "Konstiantina, a pleasure. Word travels fast in the Camp. Speaking of, I understand you have something for me..."
His pleasantness melts. "A crumbled bit of iron? What am I to with this?" The Usurer selects the remains of Kroma's phylactery with a soot-stained hand, bringing it close to his face and sniffing it. He produces a tarnished brass loupe, screwing it over his eye and squinting fiercely to hold it in place. He raises the iron core in the light, turning it this way and that. Then he fumbles in the breast pocket of his heavy smithing apron, retrieving a pinch of something, and utters an indecipherable phrase.
He pauses for a long moment, saying nothing, not even breathing. Nearly a minute passes before he blinks and inhales sharply through his nose.
"I see."
He places the phylactery gently on the worktable before him.
”Well done.” He grins, his lips sliding over too many teeth and his pale blue eyes gleaming. ”Very well done. A reward was promised, and a reward shall be delivered.” He disappears into a back room of the workshop. The sound of keys jingling issues out, followed by the creak of an old hinge. Another minute and he returns, hauling a large canvas sack, not unlike the one dragged by Jashanah Bender the day before. This one isn’t covered in dark stains. On the contrary, the clean fabric jingles merrily as the Usurer heaves it onto the worktable. ”Ten thousand gold coins, was it? Of course it was. I have a mind for these things. Will you be taking your payment in gold coins, or would you like to convert them to iron bits?”
Konstiantina stands at the back of the group, her arms crossed under her luxurious cloak, chin lowered as she watches the Usurer with a flat, expressionless look.
When the man - or whatever he is - emerges from the back with his sack of gold, her eyes are now glowing a cerulean blue, visible even in the wan light of the wasteland day. Her expression doesn't change. There's no guilt or embarrassment.
She wants information on the Usurer, and she doesn't care if he knows it.
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Ulave stares at that row of teeth. What manner of man is this?
As the Usurer walks into his vault, Usurer closes his eyes and sees in his mind's eye a tree ripe with fruit standing tall upon a grassy hillock under a blue blue sky. He reaches up, plucking an apple twice as big as his hand.
The fruit is sweet, but tart, and in it the worm. He pulls out the wriggling thing and holds it up in front of his face.
Tell me.
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"Suspicion is a fine substitute for trust.", Eddwick blurts out from behind his shield as he glances at Konstiantina's bright blue eyes. The gnome's usual slightly absent grin doesn't wane, but the biting chemical smell from his gauntlet suggests he's all too ready as well. "So, when all parties satisfied with the service-financial transactions performed, I suggest we find something else to do, in another place." He points a finger in the air. "And, we owe Finn a drink."
Ammonis grins an invisible grin from the street outside. Done and done. Eh Fey! Well on our way!
Precaution, hopefully not incitement.
Agyen decides to go ahead with his plan.
When the Usurer is getting the bag, Agyen quickly establishes his own sight.
"Gold, between your exchange rates and the local prices these iron bits seem to do little but squeeze wealth from our coins. I can't see the benefit... nor am I entirely convinced this settlement will still stand in a moons turn no matter how many it has survived before. I'd rather not be caught out with large quantities of twisted bits of iron instead of gold."
You detect latent magic in the Usurer’s bracelets and ring. You can also sense that the Usurer himself is capable of casting arcane spells of up to 6th level. He emanates an illusion aura.
The Usurer’s mouth twitches in a barely-perceptible smile, then spreads his hands, palms outward. ”Have you found what you’re looking for?” he asks Konstiantina. ”Surely such an esteemed visitor to our humble Camp has better things to do than investigate a smith?”
"Gold, between your exchange rates and the local prices these iron bits seem to do little but squeeze wealth from our coins. I can't see the benefit... nor am I entirely convinced this settlement will still stand in a moons turn no matter how many it has survived before. I'd rather not be caught out with large quantities of twisted bits of iron instead of gold."
”The economics are simple but effective; a necessary protection of our fragile economy. Iron bits are the only accepted currency inside our Camp. Non-locals receive a 5-to-1 conversion of gold pieces into iron. Locals, however, may exchange iron bits on a 1-to-1 ratio. Perhaps, after your adventuring days are done, you may choose to settle permanently here and enjoy the preferred conversion rates. Enjoy your newfound wealth. Is there anything else I can do for you? Do you require smithing?”
Agyen does not yet remove his gaze from the 'smith'.
"We have found the environs of the wastes to be fickle, deceptive, and most dangerous. And the environs of the camp little less suspicious. Hence a desire to rule out certain possibilities. No offense is intended."
"I do not require any smithing just now. Companions?"
He looks around to his companions.
Eddwick shakes his head at the Usurer. "Not me!", he chirps out, before shrugging. "We do owe Finn that drink, and he can tell us what happened around here while we were gone! He seemed like the chatty type, despite his predilection for fatalism."
Picking away at a piece of charred gunk on his gauntlet's barrel, Eddwick half-mindedly adds. "But... I'd like to go and find the missing caravan. If there's someone we could rescue, that's a good reward. And a new friend!"
The caravan seems like a productive goal, but let us get a bite to eat at the camp pub and troll for news and rumors. I believe we have some iron bits about still. Also, let's stick to the road this time unless we mustn't.
And a complicated way of saying you'll get a huge profit everytime we hand you coin. Iyon bites his tongue "A shame, I'd hoped such a useful feat of prowess that helps safeguard this place might have more of an effect on the exchange rate but you've lived up to the promised reward so I can't complain."
"The missing caravan then... after a hot meal."
"I would also seek the caravan."
I hear there is a hermit living here abouts. I would visit this hermit. A cleric of our order came to this place many years ago, but never returned. I wonder if this person might be the same.
Checks for bracelets and ring:
When you say emanates an illusion aura, can we get more specific? How powerful is the aura? Is his appearance an illusion? Can I actively attempt to disbelieve it if so?
Konstiantina's smile is diplomatic if nothing more, and she inclines her head but a fraction toward the Usurer. "As always, I seek nothing more than to learn the truth of the world about me."
She steps back, and departs with the others, occasionally flicking her fingers so as to cause the accumulating dust and dirt to fall away from her sumptuous cloak.
Once they are a good distance away:
"I have no agenda as of yet, my friends. I am willing to be guided by your previous experiences and goals. However, I can confirm that the Usurer as he styles himself is a very powerful wizard whose capabilities far exceed my own."
Ulave nods his head to the Usurer, and steps back outside to join the others. He listens to Ntinaki attentively.
Indeed? I am not here to challenge all evil I meet, and what little wisdom I have tells me to avoid angering powerful wizards! But what do you make of this Usurer? I have searched my memory; indeed I prayed for some insight into what manner of creature he is, but alas got no answer that I understood.
Ulave sighs. Well friends, that went better that we feared, didn't it. We must be careful to keep our treasure safe from thieves.
The man that I once was would have sent men to recover the gold
So ...
"Is this hermit on the same path the caravan took? And the Usurer being that much more powerful does make him easier to deal with in a sense. He is less likely to fear us than if our respective power were more even."
Ah, no. The hermit lives on the outskirts of the Camp, I believe.
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"A quick diversion since it is so close and then we follow the road to seek the fate of the caravan?" Iyon seems quite happy to indulge Ulave in this. He hasn't gone off killing the gravedigger yet.
"Yes! Keep the treasure safe." Eddwick's finger points to the air. "Ideally, we should store it in a chest. Fire and impact resistant chest, yes. And it should be all that, and then it's going to be a trapped decoy! And the real chest will be trapped, too!", the gnome rubs his palms together, realising the conversation has already departed the topic of protection.
"A mysterious hermit, who travelled away from civilisation to a wicked place? Count me interested! Should we bring him some gifts?" Shouldering his massive shield on his back, the gnome seems positively excited at the opportunity to meet someone new.
Eddwick, that is a good idea. Nothing explosive, I think.
I'd suggest putting the coin in our various bags of holding or haversacks. I mean its why many of us bought them.
"A sensible proposal, Ammonis. Let us do that. Unless anyone has objections?"
What I actually propose is that we mint our own iron bits, and then one dark night, we scatter these bits throughout the camp. Then we watch the mayhem while eating popped corn. I am joking of course...What I'd actually like to do is burn the camp down with fire. That is my most serious proposal.
Iron is not so scarce here that that couldn't be tried. I do not doubt no one does it for fear of the Usurer.
But my serious proposal has to do with fire, Ulave.
Eddwick scratches his head at the two. "Isn't uncontrolled evil worse than cold, calculated evil?", he asks, curiously. "Ooh!", he turns towards Ulave. "As a follower of what's good and right, a paladin, to use the correct metonymic, how do we quantify what is the best moral solution?", the gnome asks, before rustling through his armour and drawing a piece of paper and a piece of charcoal, held in place by bits of wood.
"Is there a measureable evilness you can detect and quantify? With some algebraic functions, assuming that your input on evilness is measurable, we could mathematically arrive at the best moral solution we can take! Hmmm... What value would you assign to the societal effect of a stable settlement in these lands?", the gnome asks with all the seriousness of a crazed researcher. "And then we can subtract from that the mean values of how evil you measure the locals to be from that! Simple!"