DM Brainiac's Tyrant's Grasp (COMPLETE!) (Inactive)

Game Master Brainiac

False Life: 1d10 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8 (using pearl of power)

After she's settled her sister, Gabbi seeks out the Lore Warden.

Allie eventually subsides to whimpering and finally to exhaustion. As her sister leaves she's curled up on the bed, cradling a small pillow in her arms and oblivious to the whole world.

Posting before I leave work for the day. Ellie and Gabbi can continue to retroactively play out their scene if there is more they wish to do.

The next morning, you examine the bastion's fountain to see that the corruption has completely vanished, leaving pure holy water in its place. You gather several vials of it and mix it with the antitoxin, then immerse the fetoring maw in the mixture. Doing so weakens the artifact's magic, allowing Ellie to smash it with her flail in a single blow! With the gem's destruction, the dome of poisonous fog surrounding Roslar's Coffer dissipates harmlessly. At last, you are free to leave the town.

As you step outside of the town's limits, you encounter a woman wearing a heavy, dakr-red cloak. A strange but not unpleasant aroma of spices accompanies her. The woman holds up her hands to show that she isn't armed, and while the cloak obscures her features, you can see her skin has a gray pallor.

"Hold now!" A steady feminine voice issues forth from beneath the dark crimson hood. Her accent is clipped and strange. "I mean you no harm! I am just as caught up in these events as you. But perhaps we can help one another? Wouldn't you like to learn more about what caused all this?" She gestures in the direction of Roslar's Coffer. "And why the undead and malicious fanatics seem to be drawn to its aftermath?"

The woman speaks firmly and quickly, without awaiting a response to her questions. "You certainly seem capable of handling yourselves, so I propose an alliance. I can offer you a respite from your wounds, and resources to replenish your supplies." The stranger points to a sturdy wagon positioned on the road not far away, hitched to a pair of grumpy-looking donkeys. "In return, I ask that you travel to Vigil and warn the Knights of Ozem that the destruction wrought here has every chance of happening in Lastwall's capital. While you are there, be watchful for a foul creature named Gildais or, at the very least, evidence of his misdeeds within the city. Gildais was once Tar-Baphon's seneschal, and I fear he has escaped Gallowspire and caused this disaster as part of a larger plan to free the Whispering Tyrant."

At the woman's words and appearance, Gabbi doesn't hesitate to nock an arrow to her bow.

detect evil?

"And who are you that would aid us?" she asks, her suspicions clear and apparent. "How are you involved in ... these events?"

Ellie is not quite as suspicious as Gabbi (which is not, on the face of it, difficult) - if this thing wanted to attack them, it could have done so with advantage of surprise. Still, it pays to keep your flail handy.

She moves forward cautiously, keeping the woman between her and the rest of the group. "Going to warn the Knights of Ozem sounds like a good idea. Can you point us in the direction of Vigil from here?" Her brow furrows. "And if anyone was going to escape from Gallowspire, wouldn't it be the Whispering Tyrant? I mean, how can someone less powerful escape while the Tyrant is still imprisoned? That doesn't make sense..."

She looks to the others. The offer of respite and resources sounds promising. It could still be a trap. But if it is, it should have already been sprung. Every moment that passes gives them time to prepare. Time that a smart enemy wouldn't let them have.

Earlier ...

Currently ...

Whether or not the woman detects as evil, Gabbi will then move on to engage detect lies.

Gabbi remains silent, waiting for the woman to respond. She continues to keep her bow with an arrow at the ready.

"I was in the region when this town was destroyed, same as you. We all seem to have miraculously survived annihilation. Somehow, I am certain that your destiny is bound with mine, but I can’t explain why. Regardless, I think we are all interested in ensuring the Whispering Tyrant remains locked away.

"After the Shining Crusade, the knights of Lastwall created several great seals to ensure Tar-Baphon could not escape Gallowspire. As long as at least one remains intact, the lich is secure. But over the last few years, agents of the Whispering Way have slowly begun destroying the seals. With each one's loss, some of the Tyrant's lesser servants have been able to bypass the wards. Now, only one remains, deep beneath the streets of Vigil. You must do all you can to ensure it remains intact!"

Gabby detects a strong evil aura coming from the woman. Despite this, she does not detect any lies.

Gabbi frowns at the woman's words.

"Let's say, for the sake of argument, that we believe you. You still haven't told us who you are and why this matters to you at all. What's your part in all this?"

The dhampir turns to send a look in her sister's direction.

"I am not yet ready to reveal myself to you, for my safety and your own. Suffice to say, I have a... vested interest in all matters concerning the Whispering Tyrant."

So yeah... I don't know if she's going to be there to meet the mysterious woman.

Earlier at the Drama S~*# Show ...

Currently ...

"So all you want from us is to warn Vigil?" Gabbi clarifies, waiting to see how the woman plans on evading the question.

"For now," the woman says. "Once the knights have rallied, we can determine our next best course of action."

Earlier ...

Ulrich makes a mental note that learning to mask his aura would be a smart idea.

Geography. What accent/ethnicity does she possess?: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

"What can you tell us about Gildais?"

----------------------
With the woman.

Allie listens carefully, with her arms crossed across her chest and her own aura, one of palpable hostility, practically glowing.

So she survived at least :)

Ulrich is unable to precisely place the woman's accent. It's from somewhere in the continent of Garund.

"Gildais is a winterwight," the woman says, "an undead horror born from the coldest depths of the Negative Energy Plane. He was an Ustalavic count long ago before Tar-Baphon transformed him into his simpering seneschal. I believe he is currently in Vigil, or has recently left it. I know he is important to the Whispering Tyrant's plans, but not how."

Gabbi lowers her bow somewhat at the woman's continued truthfulness.

"We'll warn Vigil," she says simply. "But we'll make no bargain with you. Are you planning on travelling with us to the city?"

Gabbi's pretty sure this woman is undead. Any idea of what type?

Knowledge (religion): 1d20 + 11 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 11 + 3 = 18

Gabby is unable to discern what sort of creature the woman might be.

"I will not be going to Vigil. I will be checking in with you in good time to assess what you discover there."

"I look forward to it," Gabbi responds dryly.

I am surrounded by idiots...

Religion winterwights: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (9) + 15 = 24

"I would like to bargain. We are in need of supplies, and have plenty to offer in return."

Yeah, would love to have the fresh gear and if the woman leaves it there Gabbi will use it. But as a Pharasman Inquisitor, she couldn't stomach bargaining with something she's pretty sure is undead.

Gabbi turns and glares at Ulrich, but doesn't say anything.

"There is no bargain necessary. The wagon and its contents are yours to use as you see fit," the woman says.

The wagon contains 2 weeks’ worth of trail rations, a barrel of fresh water, six skins of ale, and a matching +1 composite longbow (+3 Str) and +1 defending longsword, each wrapped in oilcloth. A slender crate contains a masterwork short sword and a masterwork rapier, each with a red leather hilt. Another, larger crate contains a suit of +1 studded leather and a suit of masterwork chainmail; both suits of armor have decorations that resemble feathery wings. A handy haversack contains a potion of eagle’s splendor, a potion of fox’s cunning, a potion of owl’s wisdom, and a ring of protection +2. A velvet bag on the wagon’s seat contains two wands: a wand of cure moderate wounds with 33 charges remaining and a wand of lesser restoration with 13 charges remaining. Finally, a leather bag tucked beneath the wagon’s seat contains 310 pp.

Does there happen to be a horse attached to said wagon? I cannot conjure one.

"Thank you, mysterious patron. Your generosity has been noted. We will make for Vigil posthaste." Ulrich replies respectfully.

Ulrich takes some time to change out of most of his necromantic gear. It does not do to look like a necromancer when entering a city of paladins. He wears his Pharasmin symbol prominently, and wears the handy haversack over his feathered cloak. Finally, he takes a swig of ale. It's been far too long since the last time he drank.

No arrows?! *sad panda*

There can be some arrows for you, Gabby. Say, 40 of them.

"We will speak again," the woman promises before speaking the words of a spell. With a flash of light, she disappears.

You load up on the wagon and spurs the donkeys onward. You cast a final look back at the ruins of Roslar's Coffer as you begin the long journey to Vigil...

Everybody has gained enough XP to reach level 8!

It's a 10-day journey to Vigil. You will encounter several caravans and merchants on the road that are happy to trade with you, so you may now finally buy and sell equipment!

A couple of days pass since the leaving of the ruin that is Rosler's Hallow and the air between the sisters hasn't cleared.

Normally never more than a few footsteps apart, they now spend their respective times on opposite sides of the group. Between Allie's glares and Gabbi's whipped-cur stance, the tension is huge between them. Where previously they had shared their bed, it's now common for the pair to sleep as far apart from each other as possible. Gabbi has been rebuffed a number of times after approaching the angry dhampir and has finally resigned herself to waiting for the heat of the woman's emotions to cool.

On the afternoon of the third day the inquisitor returns from one of her scouting forays with a quickened step. She's carrying something in her cloak, but it's not clear what it is. "There are trappers in the area so keep an eye out," she says to the others. She continues past the wagon where Ulrich rides and wonders when she'll have the nerve to speak to him again. She's sure that both he and Elká have found out what happened and what a horrible person she is.

Walking past the wagon, she hesitantly approaches her twin.

"I know you don't want to talk to me and I understand. I just wanted to ..." she begins and then looks around to see if the others are watching. The bundle in her cloak struggles. She reaches a hand up and pulls back part of the material to reveal a skinny tawny-brown head with huge amber eyes. "I found him near a snap-trap. From what I could tell it had caught his mother. She'd been there a few days and ..." The woman shakes her head. "He was laying next to her, waiting for her to wake up. He's got a lot of fleas and needs to be fed a little better, but I think he ..." She trails off, still expecting to be rebuked. When that doesn't happen yet, she continues. "No one can replace Cuddles, but if I can't be there for you, then I want you to have someone."

She hands the wolf pup over to her sister.

"I named him Sorrow. But ... you can change it if you don't like it."

The woman then turns and after shaking out her cloak, starts walking back to the front of the group.

Allie glares at her sister as she approaches, but her face softens slightly as Gabriella produces the wolf pup and offers him to her. She takes the creature in gentle hands and holds it up to her nose so that the two are eye to eye for a long while.

The moment holds until it's broken by the wolf pup giving a quick 'yip' and beginning to wriggle in her hands. Allie pulls the little creature into her arms and bows her head.

As her sister walks away she hears Allie's voice.

"Not Sorrow. Maybe... Hope."

Gabbi turns back at her sister's words.

"Hope, then," she agrees with a nod. Turning back, she returns to the front of the group. Her steps seem just a little lighter than before.

You can retcon any interactions you'd like to have on the journey to Vigil. But let's get started on Book 3!

Chapter 3: Last Watch

17 Pharast, 4719 AR

You travel in the wagon down the long, winding road, skirting the edge of the Northern Fangwood. You meet up with a few passing caravans, with which you are able to trade for new equipment. The travelers have heard vague rumors about some sort of plague or disaster in Roslar's Coffer, but the village was so small and remote that you are likely the only ones who know the truth of the catastrophe there. You pass Castle Everstand and follow the Kestrel River north to where it meets the Path River, then head east for another day or two before finally reaching the capital of Lastwall--the city of Vigil.

Two concentric walls circle Vigil, with the exception of the opening of its small harbor on the Path River. The thick outer wall and towers are made of granite and surrounded by a wide moat filled with water from the river. The southeast and northwest gatehouses and the six towers of the outer wall are always bathed in magically created light. The inner wall rises higher than the outer wall, and it is whitewashed, as is all of the city and Castle Overwatch within.

The city of Vigil is in the grip of a festive celebration. Colored streamers adorn freshly painted buildings, blooming flowers line the streets, and residents are dressed in colorful clothing. Even the grim ballista towers along the city’s thick defensive wall bear large banners showing a white sword.

The city's guards--the Watchknights--seem on edge and worried as you approach. Normally, only those bearing a shield-shaped mark of justice on the right palm are permitted to carry weapons openly in Vigil; all other weapons are confiscated by the Watchknights. However, the guards at the gate simply issue warnings for you to keep an eye out for troublemakers, and they allow you to keep your weapons should the need arise to defend yourselves.

Though most of Ulrich's time is spent learning spells, he spends the rest trying to help the twins recover from their escapade into the necromantic fog. It's an extra pain on his old bones, since they absolutely refuse to rest next to each other. Though Ulrick isn't privy to exactly what happened, he can safely assume that emotions got way out of hand. Unfortunately, he is unable to use magic to calm them. That remains in divine hands. He tries to give Gabriella massages to help her relax.

------------------------------------

Ulrich is quite unnerved walking into Vigil under the Watchknights. He has made sure not to cast any necromancy spells just in case it alerts the guard, and so far there is no need to prepare for a fight. Though normally he'd enjoy the festivities, whatever they're about, he feels removed from it all.

Kamosh figures it's better to be a raven familiar in the city rather than a psycopomp, so he transforms and perches on Ulrich's shoulder.

Gabbi accepts Ulrich's offers of massages, but doesn't seem to really be completely there. She declines any overtures of anything more.

Once they arrive at the city, she seems surprise that they're allowed to carry their weapons, but doesn't question it. Inside the city, she approaches the first member of the city watch she sees. Her request? She'd like directions to the headquarters of the Knights of Ozem.

The Watchknight blinks and points to the big castle on the hill at the center of town. "Castle Overwatch, atop Watcher's Tor. You can't miss it. But all the knights are probably going to be attending the festivities for the Whiteblade Festival."

The guard fills you in on the goings-on. This is the start of the 3-day Whiteblade Festival. The celebration is a remembrance of one of the city’s bloodiest periods of civil unrest. In 4619 AR, a revolutionary Iomedaean priest named Jesca Malvaney attempted a coup, leading to armed conflict among the church’s faithful and devastating fires that ravaged the city. Called the Whiteblade War, this event is commemorated every 10 years as a time to renew bonds, remember fallen friends, and vow to keep grudges from exploding into conflict. Over the years, the Whiteblade Festival has become more of a celebration than a grim remembrance, and much of the city turns out to hear speeches and honor veterans over the 3 days. This is also a time when the city’s leaders and aristocrats, including the Knights of Ozem, set aside their normal duties to hear grievances from the common people. However, some disaffected citizens idolize Jesca’s zeal and see the Whiteblade Festival as an opportunity to replicate the bloodshed of the Whiteblade War, so the Watchknights are on guard for troublemakers, especially since this marks the centennial of the Whiteblade War.

"The main gatherings and speeches will take place at the base of Watcher's Tor, beneath the towers of Castle Overwatch and the Crusader War College. Several stages surround the main festival area, and pavilion tents are set aside for audiences with city officials, celebrities, and members of the Knights of Ozem. Unfortunately, Watcher-Lord Ulthun II is away on business. But there five particularly influential people you might want to chat with. There's Second Sword Knight Aylunna Varvatos, the highest-ranking priest of Iomedae in Viigl. Ceto Malderra, Hero of the Belkzen Front and Marshal of the Flood Road, the highest-ranking Knight of Ozem here. Venture-Captain Evni Zognoss of the Pathfinder Society. Retired Reliquary Guard Ranton Gandry, retired with honors from a long career at the Belkzen front and, after a war injury, served for several years as a reliquary guard in the Crusader War College. And of course, Precentor Martial of Magic Veena Heliu, leader of the Battlemage Academy at the Crusader War College."

Gaining access to any of these dignitaries is a simple matter of listening to their speeches and mingling for a brief word afterward. As the dignitaries want to share their time with many citizens and visitors, each of you can effectively interact with each dignitary only once each day. Such meetings are too well-attended to be wholly private; you can’t ensure their conversations won’t be overheard.

When they start walking towards whichever dignitaries, Ulrich muses "Apparently we are not troublemakers... Surprising. Perhaps they are more concerned about those within the Iomedaen faith than others."

"Regardless, we should come up with a plan. In my opinion, people only listen to people they like. Gabriella, you have religious clout as an inquisitor, correct? I recommend you seek out the Knight of Ozem. I suspect he will be most receptive to our warnings.
Ellie, you may want to visit the Reliquary Guard. Mentioning the Fetoring Maw to grab their attention may work. I have a book with me about various artefacts if you desire to use it.
I can speak to the Precentor Martial of Magic. My knowledge and practice of the arcane may be enough to earn some respect.
Elka and Alessandra... Perhaps the Pathfinder Society? They may be interested in an adventure such as this.
I know not what exactly to do about the Second Sword. Gabriella is most likely the best fit to speak with her, but she is also the most important. I have no interest in being in that meeting, but I could send Kamosh with you.
We should also find some place to rest. I would very much like to sleep in a proper bed."

Allie spends the remaining week of the trip almost exclusively with her wolf puppy. 'Hope' doesn't stick, and may not have ever been a serious suggestion and it's not until the cub reveals his true colors as an incorrigible chewer and general shoe thief that she settles on a name, and can afterwards be seen chasing the puppy around and yelling "Rascal!" in tones varying from amusement to intense frustration.

As time passes her general defensiveness seems to soften a little. Although she still absolutely refuses to acknowledge Ellie at all, she no longer recoils from her sister's touch or occasional overtures. She does make effort not to share watches with Gabbi, or Ellie for that matter, usually volunteering for the middle watch so that she can watch the waning moon in solitude. Gradually the edge of suppressed violence that has made the wagon so unbearably tense dissipates far enough that Allie actually lends some of her power to dispel her sister's lingering cough - although the spell is cast clinically and without any of the usual flirting or borderline sexual acts that such an event would previously have been announced by.

------------------
On the last night before entering Vigil Allie appears with a new fire in her eyes and catches Ulrich with his pants down, by the simple expedient of following him when he steps aside to make water.

"My sister likes you." She says bluntly, a slightly blurred figure in the twilight - seemingly unconcerned by the fact that the necromancer has his trousers around his ankles. "I don't know why but she does. So I'm warning you, once. Never, ever hurt her. If you do..." She lets the silence hang for a moment. "Then I will break your neck - badly. And then I will flay you from your toes to your necromancy loving fingertips." With that she departs, message delivered.

-----------------
Even later that night, as Gabriella prepares for her watch she hears a noise too loud to be anything but deliberate. Her sister waits a few feet away, her face closed.

"I need to know. What actually happened?" She asks, voice tightly controlled. "Who kissed who? Who... who led the whole thing?"

"This is not new information to me." Ulrich replies, remembering Kamosh saying essentially the same thing. He just continues to piss, rather unphased.

I need to start studying Conjuration magic. The ability to teleport vast distances may be very necessary.

Earlier ...

Currently ...

Gabriella nods at Ulrich's assessment.

She'll seek out and listen to Ceto Malderra speak, hoping to get a word in with the knight.

It isn't hard to find Ceto Malderra--the largest crowd at the festival is gathered around the Knight of Ozem to hear her pseak. Ceto stands over 6 feet tall and is powerfully biult, and while she has dressed finely for the occasion, her sword-calloused hands and weather-beaten face mark her as a person of action. Her speech focuses on vigilance and duty. When she finishes, the crowd breaks into applause, but Ceto seems unimpressed. She sighs and quickly steps down from the podium, giving off the impression that she believes the whole ceremony is a waste of time. Trained in picking up subtleties, though, Gabriella notices the slight smirk on the tall woman's face--it would seem that her vanity appreciates the attention.

Gabby makes her way through the crowd offering praise to Ceto, eventually coming face-to-face with the Knight. She looks down at the dhampir disdainfully. "Let me guess. You wan an autograph?"

"Perhaps another time?" Gabbi deflects. She ensures that the symbol of Pharasma that she wears around her neck is visible. "I represent the Lady of Graves. I come with dire news of the Whispering Tyrant and a possible threat to Vigil. Would you like to discuss it here or somewhere else?"

Ulrich attends the speech of Veena Heliu and tries to size her up.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
Anything you can give me.

Ceto glares at Gabriella angrily. "The Tyrant, is it? That sounds like just the sort of drama my rivals would invent to undercut my accolades. Which one of them put you up to this?"

***
Tall and lanky, Veena Heliu eschews the military uniforms and armor common among Vigil’s leaders in favor of ornate robes with faint dragon-scale patterns that accent her hair. She wears several wands on a sash around her waist. She speaks about the value of impromptu and unexpected tactics on the battlefield—a subject that disturbs traditionalist audience members.

Ulrich gets the sense that Veena takes great pride in her position as leader of the Battlemage Academy and favors admirers. Flattery seems like the way to go.

Gabbi's eyes narrow.

"No one has put me up to this, I assure you. My sister and I, along with our companions have just come from the ruins of Roslar's Coffer - it is no more. A casualty of magic wielded by the Whispering Way. They destroyed the entire village in an instant. We believe that the same magic they used there might be attempted here."

She looks around at the crowds gathered.

"Surely the lives of all these people would warrant a few minutes of your time?"

Ceto snorts derisively. "An entire village wiped away? That sounds like nothing more than the tall tale of a frontier yokel. Have you any proof of what you claim?"