Bloody Streets: CT by AG

Game Master Apoc Golem

Knowledge (religion) + insp: 1d20 + 12 + 1d6 ⇒ (8) + 12 + (1) = 21

Knowledge (religion): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

Knowledge (religion): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Look out Andakos, it's an A-10 Warthog!

Andaisin. Somehow I knew her name would come up again.

sense motive: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (12) + 13 = 25 (He's totally gonna kill us, right?)

Knowledge (history) + insp: 1d20 + 10 + 1d6 ⇒ (13) + 10 + (2) = 25 (Does he know the name Arkminos?)

Andakos considers what to say to the creature before him. He doesn't know as much about nosferatu as he would like, and a quick glance at the others confirms that they know no more than he does. In any case, there doesn't seem to be any reason to lie to it; in fact, Andakos must admit that he is curious why it hasn't just killed them.

Golloriel is going to hate this, but he decides they need to talk to it. He lowers the butt of his spear to the ground and holds up his left hand in a put-down-your-weapons gesture. "We have been investigating the plague coursing through the city. Our findings have led us here. What is Lady Andaisin's goal?"

Golloriel's jaw clenches and her hand tightens around the hilt of her scimitar. She has no idea what this thing is, but there is no mistake that it is undead. And Andakos wants to parlay with it?

The best battle is a battle I win. If I die, I can no longer fight.

She takes another look at the clearly ancient creature. Could they defeat it at their best, much less in the condition they are in now? What good will they be -- will she be -- to the people of Korvosa if they die here in this horrible room in this horrible basement?

GodsDAMMIT.

Fist still squeezing her weapon so tightly that her nails draw blood from her palm, she says, "Excuse me," then turns and takes a guard position just outside the door, out of sight but still within earshot.

Ah, the trials of playing a paladin.

Andakos prides himself on his ability to read people, so he's surprised when he carefully studies the creature's face and finds no hint that he's lying to him.

The name Arkminos does ring a bell, very faintly. Something about an old Ustalavan noble family that fell to ruin centuries ago. It's said the estate is haunted, but no one who has returned from investigating the grounds reports anything out of the ordinary.

If Ramoska takes offense to Golloriel's obvious hatred, he doesn't show it. Doubtless he's used to it by now, though the fact that he isn't sneering or twirling his villainous mustache is a bit disconcerting. Outside of his appearance, he seems... well, normal.

He nods when Andakos explains their reason for being there. "I see. Yes, Lady Andaisin is spearheading the blood veil efforts here. The cultists have been working for a few months now to infiltrate the city and set up shop. The physicians led by Rainer are in her pocket. The Gray Maidens are not, so far as I am aware, but I suspect the Queen is not innocent in all this." He shrugs and smiles amicably. "But that is not my business. This" he gestures toward the unconcious Ruan "is my business. I am adept at disease research, and am, er... how do you say?... 'on loan' to the Urgathoans and the Red Mantis. Oh, yes, the Red Mantis is here too. They are not acting directly, of course. Plagues are not their forte. But Dr. Devaulus is quite a genius with diseases, practically my equal, despite being so much younger than I, so the Red Mantis loaned him out to Lady Andaisin for a pretty penny."

He pauses now, and folds his arms across his chest, brow furrowed in thought. "I understand you are surely here to rescue the prisoners of the cult, such as the young man here. I am afraid I cannot leave empty-handed, or my master will be most displeased. But I do believe we can aid each other."

He gestures toward the eastern end of the building. "Lady Andaisin carries an item. You may have seen them about. Small boxes they call death's head coffers. The cult used them to initially spread the plague, handing out infected coins to the poor. She carries one that is... well, let us call it a 'prototype.' I would very much like to have it. I assume you wish to face her and end the cult's threat, which is of no consequence to me. But if you should find that coffer and bring it to me, I will happily leave Korvosa post-haste, with no further harm to any of your citizens or yourselves. Nor shall I harm this young man, but I will keep him here as collateral until you return victorious. Would this agreement suit you?"

He folds his hands in front of him again, waiting patiently for your response.

Rey feels queasy just being in this creature's presence. She glances nervously at Cal and Andakos, then leans in to the investigator and mutters, "I do not like the idea of this... thing... walking away scot-free after what it's done. But master vampires are like... scary hard to kill, right? We've had the crap kicked out of us."

Despite her obvious fear, she sets her jaw and says clearly, "Whatever you choose, I'm with you all the way."

Andakos nods to Rey, glances briefly at Cal (who seems bored; Andakos isn't sure if it's an act), then turns back to the creature. "Would you excuse me one moment?"

Assuming he says yes...

Andakos exits the room and pulls Golloriel aside. He doesn't want to patronize her, so he doesn't adopt a gentle tone; instead, he is grim and serious. "I know you hate this. I hate it too, but it must be killing you. Thing is, we don't have much of a choice. We accept his offer and maybe he leaves with no consequences, but that doesn't mean we can't track him down later. But if we reject the offer? He probably kills us right now. I need to--"

Golloriel holds up a hand to interrupt Andakos. "I appreciate what you are saying, Andakos, but you don't need to justify it to me. You are right, and I accept it. My code does not preclude me from accepting a lesser evil in the pursuit of eliminating the greater. Still..." She looks toward the macabre room and sighs. "Do you think we can negotiate? I hate leaving that woman's brother here with that thing."

Andakos follows Golloriel's gaze and looks at the open door, lost in thought. After a long minute, his jaw sets as if he has made a difficult decision. He turns back to Golloriel and nods. "Let's try. Will you come with me?"

Golloriel doesn't know what Andakos has in mind, but she can see he needs her support. She nods and holds out a hand in an "after you" gesture.

Andakos reenters the room with Golloriel. He looks at the vampire, hesitates for a brief moment, then says, "Your offer is acceptable to us, on one condition. My companions must be allowed to take him" -- he points at Ruan -- "to receive treatment, and I will remain here as your hostage."

Golloriel can't help herself: she gasps and screams, "WHAT? NO! Andakos, what are you doing?!"

Andakos holds up a hand and gives Golloriel a smirk. "It's okay, Lori. It's the only way to get Ruan out of here. I'll be fine and you'll get the box. Right?"

Golloriel looks at Rey, her father, even the vampire, wanting anyone to make sense out of this. She opens her mouth to protest again, but realizes she can't think of anything to say that won't make her sound like a scared little girl. She closes her mouth and wills the tears not to come.

Caladaer's eyebrows raise at the tiefling's offer. He has to give Andakos credit: he did not see that coming.

He looks at the vampire, suddenly very curious what will happen next.

Andakos sees the torment in Golloriel's eyes and the bemusement in Cal's. He feels doubt trying to creep into his mind and forces himself to suppress it. He looks back at the vampire. "That is my offer. Do you accept?"

diplomacy (+4 to persuade others): 1d20 + 6 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 6 + 4 = 11

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAOMG

Damn, that's rough. Funnily enough, it actually works well here.

Ramoska's withered, hairless brow rises in surprise. "That is quite selfless of you. I am impressed." He shakes his head sadly. "However, I fear you have not thought your idea through. Noble as it may be, the three of your friends will almost certainly not be a match for Lady Andaisin. I am not a prideful creature; I state what is. With that in mind, few things living or dead can match my power, and even I would hesitate to attack her. She is quite formidable."

He purses his lips, a sight which would look comical with his buck-tooth fangs, were it not for the fact that he exudes the stench of death from his very being. "And on a more practical note, the boy has use to me in my research. You do not."

He still does not move. "It seems, perhaps, that we are at an impasse once more."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

Reyhan looks in equal parts frustration and fear between the two sides. The tension is killing her. She's about to throw a damn dagger at this guy just to make something happen before she--

Then, without even thinking about it, she suddenly vents her frustration. "Oh come on! What do you care who the hostage is! A body is a body, right? I mean, what even is your damn research? How to torture people to death?!"

Yes I tried to roll a check to throw my hat in. Apparently the dice roller hates everyone, not just you. XD

For the first time, Ramoska looks something other than calm. A flash of anger crosses his face, but he manages to settle himself. "If you must know," he says tightly, "I am searching for a cure to vampirism. This boy is immune to blood veil thanks to his Varisian heritage. I had hoped to find some clues in his blood, and the blood of his kin, but alas, I have had no luck. Still, a good scientist is thorough, and tests his results multiple times in order to assure his experiments yielded accurate results."

He then... well, he doesn't take a deep breath, since he's already dead, but he does puff out his chest and close his eyes before settling back into his placid demeanor once more.

"This grows tiresome. My offer still stands. If you wish for someone to stay with me to make certain I do not harm the boy in your absence, you may do so. But I promise you, you shall need all your strength against the Lady. I would suggest you hurry; your mortal bodies are rather frail, all things considered, and the boy is not in prime condition. I fear my ministrations are not gentle." He looks neither ashamed nor proud of this statement.

From behind Cal, a voice pops up. "I will stay in the boy's stead."

The party turns to see Field Marshal Cressida Kroft standing in the doorway, her weapon drawn and shield at the ready. She stows the weapon slowly, then unhurriedly unfastens the shield as she brushes past the party to enter the room. She rests the shield, emblazoned with the city's royal crest, against the nearby wall. "I am Varisian. I don't know if I'm immune to the blood veil or not, but I'm not sick, so I think there's a good chance. Would that suit you?"

Ramoska studies the woman for several long seconds, before offering a small smile. "I accept." He moves to the table and, with frightening alacrity, slashes the restraints on the boy with his claws.

Rey is admittedly flabbergasted. "Wha--I--how long were you here??"

Kroft shrugs as she scoops up the boy with surprising strength and hands him over to whomever will take him. "Long enough. Go. Get the boy to safety and go end Andaisin once and for all. By order of the Watch, she is to be killed on sight." Her jaw clenches as she says it, and she looks directly into Andakos's eyes. "Just... please be quick about it."

Ducky is a master of reading faces, and he can clearly see that her fury is masking a deep, bone-melting terror at being in Ramoska's presence. Yet despite that terror, she is here offering herself up to be at this creature's mercy while you work.

Cure for vampirism? What does vampirism have to do with blood veil?

Andakos's mind is spinning with everything that is happening, but he shoves it down to focus on the immediate problem: is he willing to trade Kroft for the boy? On the one hand, the boy is an innocent and should be their top priority. On the other, Kroft is basically their only ally in any position of power in Korvosa. She can get them access to resources, information, and people that no one else can. If the boy dies, his sister will be sad. Kroft, though... giving her up now could be giving up the city, and how many innocents will die then?

No. They cannot afford -- Korvosa cannot afford -- to leave Kroft here. His jaw sets, decision made.

"No. I do not want to leave the boy here, but Kroft here made me realize that giving myself up was a foolish offer. As is giving yourself up, Commander. Even the Count believes that the Queen is involved in all of this somehow. We may be all that can prevent Korvosa from collapsing into ruin." He feels Golloriel about to protest behind him and holds up a hand. "Thank you, Count, for allowing us to talk this through. I now see that your original offer was the wisest course of action. On your word that you will cease experimentation on the boy -- Ruan -- unless we should fail in retrieving the box, we accept." He gives Kroft a "please don't contradict me on this" look.

Kroft looks confused for a moment, then furious. "Absolutely not, Andakos. Do I look like some gods-damned delicate flower that needs saving? I will not--will NOT--leave a civilian in the hands of this creature under any f%*#ing circumstances. You may not be part of the City Guard, but I can sure as Hells arrest your ass for obstruction once this is all over." She practically shoves the young man into Andakos's arms. "BY ORDER OF THE GUARD. You are to see this boy to safety and kill Andaisin. Do NOT make me tell you again."

As terrified as she clearly is, she looks ready to hit somebody if she's disobeyed again.

WDYD?

Anger -- no, rage -- rises in Andakos with such speed and ferocity that it nearly overwhelms him. He is old enough to have learned how to suppress his demonic side in most circumstances; only the most intense emotional experiences cause him to nearly lose control. He is once again thankful for his dark red skin so no one can see the flush that has arisen on his face. His hand tightens around his spear and he takes a deep breath.

Why is Kroft being so foolish, so reckless? This boy is a civilian, but at some point they have to think pragmatically! Losing Kroft could literally mean they lose.

He wants nothing more than to scream at Kroft. She is not his superior. But, he can feel the vampire losing its patience; now is not a good time to have a whole argument about the value of one human's life over another.

Plus -- and he hates to admit this -- being chastised by a person in a leadership position triggered all of his guard instincts. It was all he could do to not immediately stand at attention.

Plus PLUS! He started this. If they had accepted the vampire's offer from the off and left, Kroft may not have had a chance to interfere. Offering himself up was idiotic. Not as idiotic as Kroft offering herself, but close.

So here they are, about to trade the f@~&ing Field Marshal for a minor noble boy, and it is entirely his fault.

F+&&.

He forces his clenched teeth to unclench, then speaks directly to the Count. "Fine. Kroft for the boy. But the same terms apply: she is untouched unless we fail in our mission to return the box. Agreed?"

Kroft does her best to hide her relief behind a stern visage, one she has clearly practiced many a time on her guards, nodding curtly and handing him the unconscious boy. "And make sure the other guards know not to come in here, either. The situation is volatile enough as it is."

Arkminos, for his part, looks bored--and perhaps a bit impatient. At Andakos's words, he replies, "Agreed. I await your return."

He immediately turns around and busies himself with the lab equipment behind him, jotting notes into a leatherbound journal as he goes. Kroft might as well not even be there, it seems, though the Field Marshal isn't so foolish as to try to dip out. She leans against the now-empty surgical table, shield resting against her legs, blade in easy reach of her crossed arms.

Just to speed things along, I'm going to fast-forward a bit.

It takes some doing getting the unconscious Ruan up the ladder, but after calling down one of the guards to help pull him up, you manage the task eventually. Reyhan informs the guard of the commander's position; he looks like he wants to throw up, but knows better than to disobey Kroft's order to stay away. "Still, I'll post a couple of our people within shouting distance, in case she needs backup. Not to worry, friends. We've got her back." He actually salutes Andakos, despite the investigator not technically being part of the City Guard.

Back down below, your quartet still has three options to go: two doors to the south, and a set of double doors to the east.

WDYD?

Once back in the vat room, Rey heaves a heavy sigh of relief. "That got tense," she says, glancing at Andakos. "You okay?"

Before Andakos leaves Kroft behind, he approaches her, squeezes her hand, and looks into her eyes. "We will come for you, one way or another." He holds her hand and her gaze for another moment, then nods and exits.

---

In response to Rey, he just shakes his head. He doesn't dare speak, for fear of either screaming or breaking down in tears. He genuinely doesn't know which it would be.

His entire being is drained but they have a job to finish here. He plods over to the northeastern door and takes a look.

perc: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (1) + 15 = 16 +3 traps
DD if necessary: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (13) + 21 = 34

Christ on a cracker I'm a 1 rolling machine lately. Fits his mood, though, I suppose.

Too shaken up to properly scour the door as he usually does, he thankfully opens the unlocked door to find there are no traps on it.

The room beyond is spare, save for four dusty translucent tubes in the center of the room. Blood and bits of viscera dot the floor, but other than that and the tubes, the room is empty. The glass tubes are cracked and empty, save for one, where a hideous creature floats unconscious in some foul green fluid.

At the east end of the room stand a pair of massive, imposing double doors of darkwood bound in iron bands. Horrid carvings of Urgathoa worshipers committing unspeakable acts with corpses adorn the panels.

Despite the monster in the vat, she can't take her eyes off the doors. "Welp. I thought the room with the corpses in the walls would be the worst one, but somehow this tops it. It's official, I'm setting fire to this place when we're done."

Andakos's shoulders drop as he sees yet another horrific room and another set of doors leading to Irori knows where. He has had quite enough evil for one day.

Knowledge (planes): 1d20 + 10 + 1d6 ⇒ (11) + 10 + (5) = 26
heal: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

"That's a leukodaemon." He is unable to keep the weariness out of his voice, but he sees the same in everyone else's eyes, so he doesn't try too hard to hide it. "Nasty plague beasties, so maybe not surprising that it's here. The good doctor upstairs seemed to be at least part leukodaemon, but this one appears to be pure."

perc: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (14) + 15 = 29

How tall is the vat? Is is feasible to coup de grace it without risking waking it up?

heal: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

Haha answered my own question.

"It's almost dead. We should help it along." Golloriel is immediately taken aback that words so nonchalant about killing another sentient being escaped her lips, but doesn't correct herself. She knows very little about daemons but she is pretty sure they are generally unflinchingly evil.

"What is this goo? Are they trying to heal it? Or just keep it alive? Or maybe it is a prisoner?"

Andakos doesn't discuss his daemonic heritage, well, ever, but Golloriel's last question gives him the slightest hint of doubt. If he is able to suppress Abaddon's influence, maybe others could too? But he isn't full-blooded and he had a loving upbringing; he doesn't expect this particular daemon enjoyed the same.

He had planned to just put it down and move on, but she makes a good point about the goo. He doesn't think he can kill it without the goo getting everywhere. He leans in closer to try to identify it.

C(A): 1d20 + 17 + 1d6 ⇒ (3) + 17 + (3) = 23

Bah, that's tweenerish enough to make me risk my penultimate inspiration of the day...

The fluid it's floating in is the likely source of its medically-induced coma, being a concoction with--among other things--cavern elf sleep poison.

A Knowledge (planes) check would actually be more apropos to the question of whether it's morally cool to murder the daemon in its sleep, but since you rolled pretty well on the KP check earlier I'll just roll it over.

Daemons are hateful Outsiders whose entire purpose and goal in existence is to end all life in the Multiverse. When everything else is dead, they will presumably end themselves too. If that were their only purpose, that would be bad enough, but most daemons want to inflict as much suffering as they can before killing their victims, and leukodaemons are--generally speaking--no exception, preferring to inflict painful, deadly diseases on their victims and watch them die in agony.

Also, killing a daemon's corporeal form on a plane other than Gehenna will simply destroy the body and send the daemon's spirit back to its native plane, so you're not killing it so much as revoking its passport to Golarion.

Andakos shakes his head at his forgetfulness; of course killing a daemon on the material plane doesn't actually kill it.

He doesn't think the goo will harm them if they aren't fully immersed in it, but he still suggests caution: "There is an elf sleep poison in this concoction. Try not to touch it with bare skin if you can help it." He is thankful that his weapon allows him to stand back from the vat. He waves everyone back at least another 10 feet, then nods, and shoves his spear into the side of the vat. (If it doesn't shatter completely, he keeps at it until it does.) Once it has drained and he has access to the daemon's body, he studies its anatomy carefully, then aims the point of his spear at its heart and stabs.

CdG damage: 3d8 + 15 + 3 + 2d6 ⇒ (6, 8, 2) + 15 + 3 + (4, 6) = 44 (popping studied strike; none of the additional damage is multiplied on a crit)

The daemon, already comatose and on the cusp of 'death,' shudders once when the spear penetrates between its bony ribs and makes a mess of its chest cavity as you rupture its heart. The body starts to dissolve into ectoplasm within a few moments.

The source of much of the cult's ingredients for their research fully destroyed, that only leaves the two doors in the south wall in the previous room, and this ominous set of double doors before you.

WDYD?

Andakos trudges forward and checks the double doors.

perc: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (14) + 15 = 29 +3 traps
DD if necessary: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (1) + 21 = 22

Finding no traps, Andakos opens the doors. They slide slowly and heavily with an ominous creak, leading into an unlit hallway. The light of the current room spills down, barely revealing the outline of double doors some forty feet down a slight incline.

"Yeah," Rey squeaks. "That's uh. That's a Final Boss hallway if I ever saw one."

As discussed in Discord, the final fight will take place live in just over a week's time! Stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion to Curse of the Crimson Throne, Book II!

No idea if his final shield is still active; he downed it before entering the room with the vats. We talked to Dr. Acula and then CdG'd the daemon in this room. It lasts 6 minutes.

Also, heroism. 50 minutes and he alchemically allocated it when we entered this funhouse. This one isn't as big a deal, though, because I have another AA available and no other super useful potions so he can just re-up it if necessary.

Andakos realizes he is grinding his teeth and has to consciously force his jaw to unclench. How can they possibly go through this door in their current state? How can they not? Whatever is on the other side is probably responsible for the blood veil outbreak in Korvosa. He suspects it goes even higher than this, but they cannot possibly leave after coming so far.

He turns to the others. "I am going through that door. I would be thankful for your help, but I will bear you no ill will if you decide to sit this one out." He looks each of his companions in the eyes. "Speak. I need to hear from each of you."

Golloriel's grip on her scimitar tightens and she stands up straighter. "My healing is spent, but I still have some protective spells left, and I can still link your lifeforces to mine." She looks at her father. She can tell by his demeanor that he is almost completely spent, but she tries (perhaps unsuccessfully) to keep her concern for him off her face. "My role is to protect you all, and I can still serve that role. I'm in." She nods to Andakos.

Caladaer can't help but snort a laugh at his companions' bravado. "I have basically nothing. I can make one of you fly, and I think I might be able to toss a glitterdust out. And I guess I have a handful of acid darts left. Haste is gone." He shrugs and thinks for a minute. Eyebrows raised, he turns to look back in the direction they came from, where they left a few dozen corpses behind. "Huh."

He looks at Golloriel and laughs again. She is not going to like this.

"There is one way I can be helpful." He pulls a black, desiccated wand from his pack. "I may not be able to do any direct damage, but I can overwhelm our foes with numbers. I'm going to ask some of our friends back there to help us."

What?

Oh.

Oh, s#@@.

"Wait, what?" It takes Golloriel a split second longer than Andakos to realize what her father means, but understanding hits her like a gut punch. "Wait, WHAT?! That evil man... what was his name?" She looks at Andakos, her eyes desperate. "Rolf? ... Rolth! He brought those poor people back to do his bidding against us, and now you want to do the same?!" She can feel her eyes filling with tears and angrily blinks them away. "Dad! You can't!"

Cal scoffs. "Do not act like a child, Golloriel. You need my help, and this" -- he brandishes the wand -- "this is how I can help. It is not evil. It is practical. Pragmatic."

He feels his anger rising and he wants nothing more than to chastise her, to tell her to grow up, to pull the "I'm your father, that's why" card. But he can feel the tiefling's gaze on him. That gaze speaks multitudes: this way will not work. And he hates -- HATES -- to admit that the tief... Andakos... is right.

Play to her protective nature.

"Golloriel. Look at me. My mirror images are gone. I have nothing left to summon. I will be a sitting duck in there. At the very least, having a few extra bodies around me will free you up to help Andakos and Rey, instead of worrying about me." He smiles at her, and is a little surprised to find that the smile is genuine. "This is my role in this fight. They are mindless and their... souls... have already left their bodies. They will be literal meat shields and under my complete control. You know that I am right."

Andakos watches the exchange, unconsciously holding his breath. He has so much he wants to say, but he can sense that this is a father-daughter moment and he would do well to keep his mouth shut.

When her father begins lashing out, Golloriel braces herself for a fight and prepares to dig her heels in. But then something unexpected happens: his demeanor goes gentle. She is old enough and wise enough to know when she is being manipulated, but does that matter? She can tell without asking that Andakos and Rey (making an assumption here) will not oppose Cal's will on this.

She feels her oath racing through her head, and she scans through it, desperately looking for a concrete reason to say no. But, to her consternation, she finds only reasons to agree.

I will protect my allies with my life.

The best battle is a battle I win. If I die, I can no longer fight. I will fight fairly when the fight is fair, and I will strike quickly and without mercy when it is not.

I will not abide evil, and will combat it with steel when words are not enough. I do not flinch from my faith, and do not fear embarrassment. My soul cannot be bought for all the stars in the sky.

Her father is a powerful wizard, but he is weak right now. This is an advantage he can give them. The evil on the other side of that door has sought to kill thousands through an insidious disease. To what end, she is still unsure, but she is positive that she must stop it. If she refuses this and they fail, how many more will suffer?

Or...? Or is she twisting the intent of her oath to fit her current needs? Is it forgivable to justify a small atrocity to prevent a large atrocity? She fears she is nowhere near wise enough to answer that question. But she can feel her resolve wavering and she already knows what she will decide... what she has decided. She sighs.

"Fine. But we will put them down when we are done with them."

Cal nods. "Of course."

Before she can change her mind, he looks at Andakos. "Would you care to assist?"

Andakos cannot believe this is happening right now. He isn't even sure how he feels about it, but the fact that Golloriel is going along with it is mind-boggling to him. But he senses Cal's urgency and understands the reason for it, so he quickly nods. "Lead the way."