|
"Confound woman, once again you warm your brandy by sticking your hand in the fire. No, what we are doing is as different from a husband performing his marital duties as a scurrilous rogue entering in the backdoor to perform the same action--not, Propoket preserve us, that you will ever know the respectability of being someone's wife, so I'll explain it for you.
-WE- are accompanied by an upstanding member of the local clergy AND have the blessings of the good citizenry of the township. -HE- skulked in in the dead of night and promptly got himself tied up by his former employers.
-WE- are performing an exorcism on this foul place, removing the evil tinge as one excises a cancer from a healthy body. -HE- has BROUGHT more trouble here and the town is now WORSE OFF than if he had never been!
Who knows, perhaps if is even of such taint that he is the evil those elves were looking for?
Either way, he has broken under The Question and admitted to being the very OPPOSITE of the kind of folk that we either want running about Saltmarsh OR at our unguarded backs!
Perhaps he is wholly lying and is even in league with that -thing- in the basement, and is merely drawing us out, giving it time to gather power."
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
"Evil," Allysen giggles, the sound unsettling given her despondency over the past several days. "Respectable?" She cackles, not quite able to believe her own ears.
"Te-tell me Isagoras, oh wise sage, if he isn't someone that you wish to be with, should I leave as well?"
She giggles again, sounding more hysterical with each titter.
"If he's so evil that he'll bring doom to us all, then I guess having me around isn't going to be much better. Do you know whose symbol is on the armor and mace we found? Do you know why that man was here, or who that elf we met last night is? I do, and if you think the elf some bastion of all that is good and holy then you, my friend, are sorely mistaken," she tells the old scholar, all the while grinning manically at him.
"Of course, I must be wrong. I'm not the respectable one," she says as she begins undoing her weapons belt and loosening her armor. "I'm only the one that nearly starved to death before falling into a hag's clutches. Oh, no. That can't be right. Isagoras didn't say it was. Oh well," she shrugs and pulls the leather over her head. "I guess I just imagined Ma Belladonna sending out men armed with weapons marked like that mace to find unusual artifacts or abandoned wizard's lairs for her to loot." She turns around, still speaking in a childish, sing-song voice. "I guess I imagined that elf showing up and talking to her for hours on end. I guess it must have been a dream when one of her rituals went wrong and gave me this," Shadows swirl up her arm and form into a dancing flame before disappearing. "I must have been mistaken when she threatened to eat me," she adds, her voice growing more sarcastic and saccharine as she gathers the tail of her shirt and tunic in her hands, "and there's no way that these can be real."
She pulls the shirt over her head, protecting her modesty from the front, but her back, turned to Isagoras, Lord Belros, and the thief, is bare. Her skin is crisscrossed by dozens upon dozens of scars from thin, white lines to jagged, purplish-blue gashes over an inch wide. She lets them see the scars for a long moment before pulling her clothing back on and turning back around. When they see her face, she's no longer smiling and the shadows around her seethe.
"I fell into Ma Belladonna's clutches before I even saw my sixth winter. Even then I had learned that respectable and honor were words others with money and security use to justify spitting in my face and putting a boot to my neck. I'm a street rat, Isagoras. When you have nothing, you'll do anything to live another day, even fall in with cutthroats and thieves. They don't like it when someone wants out, especially if they have skills they can use. If you're so eager to use that sword of yours, turn it on yourself. It'll be a swifter, cleaner death than what you'll find at Ma Belladonna's hand."
With that, she picks up her armor and belt and heads back down the stairs to be alone. She didn't want to the others to see her cry.
Lord Belros maintains some watchfulness over the thief, even as he is irked by the argument brewing between Alyssen and Isagoras.
Then, he is rapt by the tale she lets slip.
He is silent a moment, then turns to the thief.
He ponders the slight possibility that he may have been too harsh on the man. Slight.
"If we allow you free, what would you do with yourself?", he asks, still unconvinced.
The man shrugs in a non-committal way, "I don't know. I would tag along with you if you have me. Kind of curious about what else I could ... er, what could be found in this house."
Seemingly ignoring Allysen's entire outburst, MWG says to the man "I am not for killing you just because you have in the past made a living by stealing from others - that's what judges and jails are for. But neither am I comfortable with letting you come with us, since we don't know you. I suggest we let you leave this house and go where you want, as long as it is not back here."
Wolfram watches the exchange between Allysen and Isagoras first with some amusement, but it quickly turns to sadness. The girl has clearly been through hell, which does not fully excuse her outburst, but certainly explains a lot. He turns away, not for shame, but out of respect, and moves to the side as she moves past. This time he does not follow.
Returning his attention to the pathetic person colloquially known as Ned, Wolfram states, "Honest? I don't believe so, but regardless, the man is a poor liar and a worse thief, if he is one. We would be a lesser party for his addition. I further wouldn't care to see his mug skulking around my town, but I fear more for his safety in that hard place than any of the townsfolk. He would not last a day there before some salty sailor catches his hand in the wrong place and cuts it off.
"If I were another person, I might suggest he lead us down into that cellar, but since I am not, I would prefer to leave him up here, fast to the bed as we found him, while we complete our work in this house. We can untie him on our way out and make sure he heads in some other direction."
Ned becomes agitated as he hears Wolfram's argument. "Wait, you mean to tie me up again? Hang on a minute, that's not fair! Just let me leave, and I promise I won't get into your way again! What kind of a threat am I to you out in the wild?"
"My acquaintance the wizard here just offered to murder you, and you recoil at my simple suggestion that we instead tie you up to be released later? We shouldn't have untied you in the first place before we knew what you were up to. But I guess that ship has sailed. Hopefully my friends here will learn not to be so trusting; Saltmarsh is no place for blind faith," he says with no sense of irony.
"Your fate is in their hands, and if I see you in my town know that I will put the ship captains and local proprietors on notice that you are a lowly cutpurse."
Tired with all the quibbling, Wolfram exits the room and proceeds to the last door on the right on the east wing of the floor, and opens it.
"I am for him leaving. Swiftly."
|
|
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
"Come now woman, you're overreacting as usu--" Isagoras starts when she reaches for her weapons belt, thinking she means to settle the score by fisticuffs.
When it hits the floor and she un-dons her armor, Isagoras is founded-dumb, thinking that of all the reactions he expected, stripping was certainly not one of them.
As she bares her truth, scars and all, he listens to what she has to say, thinking it over. Coming to some unseen conclusion, he waits an appropriate amount of time before leaving and following her.
Father Wolfram seems to have the situation with the thief in hand anyway.
Isagoras walks down the stairs to her. "My name--" he starts before sitting down, but it's the motion of a younger man; the knees do not creek, he does not grunt with the effort nor exhale in relief. "--is Liam. I'm an agent of the Order of the White Angel. Hence, it's no use asking my last name, we all take WhiteAngel as our surname, to show that we're family. And I was one the Order's up-and-coming historians, until...."
He adjusts his legs, getting comfortable. "To your next question that is written on your face, Patriarch Isagoras, a man of keen mind and great power, perhaps only second to Highfather Joakim himself, is still back in his tower, locked away, performing a work of powerful magicks. He knew he would disappear for awhile, and so allowed me to take his moniker on this mission. I dye this beard with a mixture of boiiled-down cow urine to make it white," he says, scratching his beard that certainly shows some youthful black roots.
"As to this mission, there is a powerful Orc warlord called Lord Borak the Despoiler. Of unusual strength and unique intellect for one of his kind, he has arranged the disappearance of something that belongs to someone...
...one called Vecna.
Of the long-dead Arch-Lich two items of power still remain, his eye and his hand. We know that one of them is lost...but we don't know which one.
The Eye of Vecna was, last we knew, held by our sister order, the Order of the Shield. Alas we've had a bit of a falling out with them, and they are no longer cooperating with us, least of all to let us know the embarrassment that would go with losing an item of sublime power.
The Hand of Vecna is, again, at last report, held by members of the Ebon Hand, agents of the Zhentarim. We've never been able to get spies into their organization, so we don't know what their status is.
But we do know that Lord Borak performed works that could only have come from that potent source...and we know that he doesn't have it currently.
So, that's what I'm looking for.
It was believed that if Borak learned that -THE- Isagoras was out and about, that would flush him from cover and get him to make a mistake. Perhaps he'd lunge after his lost treasure prematurely; perhaps agents of his would let slip some clue to the story--who knows? But I--we, have to do _something_. To let a being like that hold an item like that would make you beg for something as sweet as the worst day you've known 'til now.
Why do I tell you this? Because I really, really, needed to know that we have an item from Belladonna's Raiders. And if letting you in on the secret gets you to trust me with good stuff like that, then that's what it takes.
Of course, you could turn me in. You could march right up there, whisper this knowledge in that thief's ear, let him loose, and within hours I'd be dead and you would have helped a wanted marauder up the ladder to mass-murderer.
Or, you can help me. We're with a group looking for things. Well, help me look for things. It may be nothing. Maybe there's nothing to find here. Then I can send off a raven and in some map in the White Tower they'll cross out this sector and HighFather Joakim at least doesn't have to worry about Saltmarsh.
Can I count on you?" he asks, smiling a decidedly boyish smile.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Liam finds Allysen curled up in a corner softly sobbing as she hugs her gear. Her head snaps up at his entrance and for moment it looks as if she's about to bolt for any escape she can find. As he tells his story, she calms somewhat, falling into sullen silence as she listens. She can see the truth, or at least the not-a-lie in his words, and that was enough to earn her trust for the moment.
"I'm not going to tell anyone about your real name," she says, still going over what he'd revealed to her in her mind. It was almost too much for her, but she couldn't think of a reason why Liam would lie to her now. As she pondered things, her mind fell back into those years of horror and even before to the years on the streets.
"All I'm good at is running away," she says after a few moments. "Those times I didn't ended badly. The day before I met Ma Belladonna, there was a boy that smiled at me like you just did and told me that they needed me. He was the one that shoved me at the guards that beat me until I passed out. Then she came out of the mist that night and promised me a warm place to sleep and warm meals everyday. I was too hungry and hurt and young."
"I was her slave for six years," she tells Liam as her hands tighten and turn her knuckles white. "She sent me into whatever place she was raiding first. I nearly died more than once and there was a time or two that a ghost possessed me. I was supposed to die that night when she tried to gain power over shadows. I was supposed to be sacrificed in exchange, but something went wrong. I've been running for ten years, I think. It gets hard to keep track. Things blur together when you're terrified."
She looks up, her eyes meeting Liam's.
"I'm scared," she whimpers. "I don't want to die. She'll catch me one day. I don't want to die," she sobs before reaching out to him and clinging like a lost child begging for someone to chase the nightmares away.
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
'Oh Propoket what have I done?' is the first thing he thinks once his tale is told. 'I've just put this entire thing at risk, possibly delivered a major Power into the hands of Borak the f$#%ing Depsoiler, AND I...there's no way that I'm not dead now, is there??'
Once she assures him that she'll not spill the beans about his name, that is, at least, something.
And he listens on.
Several times he thinks about interrupting, but thinks better of it and holds his tongue...until he finds himself suddenly the thing being held.
"There there," he starts, not "technically" knowing what to do in this situation. 'Oooo, if I actually -were- Isagoras I bet he'd know what to do here!'
For lack of any better strategy he tentatively reaches up and begins stroking her hair. "But you're still alive now, aren't you? And you've been alive and free for, what did you say, ten years now? My that's quite an accomplishment! At this point you've been free for longer than you were trapped. And they still haven't found you in all this time. You must be very very good to have gone this long.
And I've seen how you handle yourself. For someone to kill you they'd be in for a handful, I'd wager!"
He catches himself, afraid the others may have overheard, and bends closer, keeping it to a whisper.
"You're with friends now....
...Good friends with good heads...
...You don't have to be afraid anymore...
...I will...
...protect you...."
He surprises himself when he bends down to kiss her.
Allysen calms down as Liam speaks and strokes her hair. By the time he kisses the top of her head, she's breathing steadily and is still.
"Jus' a street rat tha's good at runnin'," is the only objection she gives, but her heart isn't in it. She thinks back to what Lord Belros and Father Wolfram had said and how she had friends, not just companions but friends that would watch her back.
"Can you teach me how to use this power," she asks after a moment. "I've been too scared to do much on my own."
|
|
'What am I doing? Am I in make-out mode? Yep, I'm going into make out mode.'
Liam/Isagoras wrestles with his thoughts, scolding himself for putting the mission at risk, and finally his SuperEgo kicks his Id out of the cockpit and reasserts itself, trying to minimize the damage that a reckless notion almost did.
"Um, well, yes, yes of course," he states, chiding himself for lowering his guard for so long and disentangling himself from almost making a foolish mistake. "Of course, um, lessons are a good thing. Uh, that is to say, and not bad at all.
Ah. Look at that, I can tell from the sound of feet stomping off that someone has gone and gotten themselves into trouble in our absence. I should, ah, I should go and check up on them," he says, retreating back up the stairs.
Isagoras follows the sounds and smells of righteous indignation and catches up with Father Wolfram as the good priest is opening up a new line of attack.
"Nod doubt we shall again be in fisticuffs with arachnids, eh?" Isagoras observes, looking into the exposed room.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
As he goes to leave, Allysen grabs Liam's sleeve, not hard, but enough to get his attention.
"Thank you, Isagoras," she says, giving him a weak smile. "I'll be up in a bit."
Allysen climbs up the stairs a few minutes after Isagoras returns. Her armor and belt back in place.
"I vote for letting the poor fellow go. But with the warning that if we *ever* see him again, for *any* reason, we will kill him."
The Notice rolls in front of a room with a closed door are to hear anything that might be going on inside. Because we've "automated" the door openings, I make notice rolls for the two that are doing the listening. Is that what you mean?
Also, I would like a consensus on what you want to do with Ned before you move on. Are you letting him go, or are you going to tie him up again?
Ned scratches his head and looks around at everyone. He momentarily looks like he is about to ask for a weapon or even just clothes, but as the others were talking about killing him in cold blood, he decides to just run as fast as he can for the nearest exit before anyone can change their mind.
As Allysen has already "discovered" the weak floorboards in the landing that overlooks the first-floor entrance, the group decides to descend back to entrance and instead access the second floor via the back staircase. You stand before the next door of the haunted house and after Allysen and Moves with Grace check it out and listen, proceed to open it.
The room inside was once a fine master bedroom, but now stands dirty and decayed. Some of the floorboards are missing and there is rubbish scattered around. A tall wooden cupboard stands against the wall opposite the fireplace, its door closed.
"I wonder who ransacked this room? Looks like they were rather thorough."
Allysen carefully makes her way over to the cupboard and looks it over for anything untoward.
Allysen moves over to the cupboard and carefully opens it to look inside. She finds a pair of old, cracked leather boots, and a dirty, ragged cloak hanging from a peg, but nothing seemingly of value.
"Oh look Isagoras, a fireplace," Wolfram observes with some humor. The Reverend checks behind the cupboard, pulling it away from the wall if need be.
= 6
Nothing seems particularly unusual about the cupboard. Judging by its deterioration, it has most likely been here since the house was abandoned.
Belros enters the room, seeking hidden spaces in the walls where enemies could be hiding.
Lord Belros looks around the room's floor, walls, and ceiling, but does not find any further exits.
"Well, might as well see what creepy-crawly comes out," Allysen sighs before looking up to see if anything waited up this chimney.
For a change, the chimney looks clean of any living critters, although it looks like there were (smaller) spiders living in it at one point, judging by the old webbing.
Belros almost smiles.
"The spiders clearly have not had time to grow to their full size. If there is nothing else here, let us proceed."
|
|
Isagoras does his own inspection of the room, checking the chimney doubley, fully unbelieving that they won't be attacked by a giant insect of -some- kind.
"We have just the one room next to us left to explore, yes?" he asks the room, while looking up the chimney that Allysen just looked up, as if he doesn't trust her enough to be attacked by a giant spider--like normal people.
Isagoras fails to find any live spiders in the chimney, although he does notice an old bird's near the top of the chimney that is quite abandoned.
Seeing that the room is as ransacked as it appears, Allysen goes to the next room down the hall and checks the door, opening it if there's nothing untoward that she can find.
Allysen and Moves with Grace check the next door, but find nothing unusual. Opening it, you find another bedroom, decayed liked the rest of the house. Rubbish is scattered around; there is some evidence of rodent infestation and some webs hang torpid in the corners. A four-poster bed, once a grand piece of furniture, is against the wall opposite the fireplace. Its woodwork is worm-ridden and the curtains which once screened the bed are torn and stained. There is no bed linen, but the carcass of the bed is relatively intact.
|
|
Isagoras is gripped by some kind of obsessive vein of morbid curiosity as he reaches his rapier up higher and higher trying to knock down the bird's nest.
'Okay, if there are no spiders in that thing, Imma start relaxing,' he thinks, wondering if he's in the clutches of some kind of burgeoning phobia.
The bird's nest is just beyond the reach of the rapier, but Isagoras does manage to knock loose heaps of decades-old soot that rain down on him like anthracite snow.
|
|
Giving in to the kind of intellectual compulsion that bade him to keep poring over ancient tomes on dusty racks long into the small hours when even students called diligent had sought their beds, Isagoras refuses to surrender.
Sheathing his blade, he takes out his sling. Loading it carefully and taking time to aim slowly, he starts lobbing stones at the nest to make it comes loose.
Allysen checks out the last two rooms.
Lord Belros moves in the order that they had agreed to, wary of danger.
After checking the door for traps and listening, Allysen opens the door to the next room on the second floor. It appears to be a large bedroom, now decaying and dirty. Damp mold covers portions of the walls and ceiling and rubbish is strewn liberally round the floor. In the center is a single mattress which has been badly torn and from which the stuffing protrudes. Under the window is a large wooden chest, the timbers split, its lid closed, and a disused fireplace occupies the southern wall.
The room seems to be unoccupied.
Lord Belros approaches the chest cautiously, seeking what was contained within.
Lord Belros carefully nudges the chest open and is somewhat surprised to find it unlocked. It seems to be filled with a bundle of old, molded papers of some sort, along with stained and ragged clothing.
Lord Belros perseveres, and rifles through the papers and clothing.
The papers are somewhat illegible due to mold and rot, but seem to be legal documents concerning the house you are standing in. A complete overview of what is contained in them would take a few hours .
One page near the bottom seems a bit different from the rest, and is covered with mystical sigils that Belros recognizes as beseeching Motivius, a divine servant of Heironeous to temporarily incapacitate one's enemy.
The clothing is so moldy and moth-eaten that it is beyond anyone's use.
While Lord Belros looks through the papers, she begins examining the next door down the hall.
Lord Belros carefully tucks away the scroll and says:
"The box contained legal documents regarding this very house. Are any here practiced in law or language to decipher them? I have also obtained a scroll that can beseech Motivius, divine servant of Heironeous to stun a foe. Myself or Wolfram could make use of it. Wolfram, do you want to hold onto it?"
MWG accompanies Allysen :
= 7