Bloody Streets: CT by AG

Game Master Apoc Golem

Okay. So. Animate dead is a 4th level wizard spell, but a 3rd level everything else (cleric/oracle/etc) spell. The caster level matters not for duration but for the number of HD of undead we can raise. Not sure if the book specifies what the CL of the wand is, but lmk either way. We're literally just creating meat shields here. Choke the battlefield and annoy the shit out of the GM with the gazillion tokens!

Caladaer returns to the carnage of their massive battle. He directs Andakos, "Look for the most intact ones," then begins the gruesome process of finding his "candidates", prioritizing those that would return as zombies rather than skeletons. Once satisfied, he gestures to Andakos to stand back, then begins the process.

Even though it would be a simple matter of waving the wand to activate the spell, he still takes it slowly and treats it with the gravity it deserves. He even feels a twinge of shame at the underlying excitement and anticipation coursing through him.

Ugh, it's late and I'm tired and feeling prosed out. Wrapping this up.

He raises some zombies and commands them to follow him back to the others.

She hears the zombies before she sees them. The groans and shuffling feet are a sobering reminder of just what lengths they are going to.

But then she sees her father enter the room, leading a small horde of abominations. And, though he is trying to keep the satisfaction off his face, she immediately sees it. There is a part of him that is enjoying this. This isn't a necessary evil for him; it is a power fantasy.

Sweet Dawnflower, what have I done? Forgive me.

She steels herself and waves her companions to her side. One by one, she reestablishes her Life Link with each, then casts protection from evil on all four of them.

Caladaer retrieves another wand from his pack and addresses Rey. "Once we are through the door, stay close." He holds the wand up. "This will make you more dextrous. Should help with those daggers."

Andakos alchemically allocates his heroism potion (if necessary), then pulls an extract from his bandolier. He looks at it for a moment, deciding if he wants to use it. Then he shrugs, says, "Stand back," pops the cork, and downs it. A few seconds later, an 11-foot tall Andakos wielding a nearly 20-foot spear turns to the doors to give them a once over. "Cal, help me look."

perception: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (19) + 15 = 34
DD (if necessary): 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (20) + 21 = 41

Cal auto-aids perception

Once any traps or locks are taken care of, Andakos looks down at his companions. After assuring they are ready, he takes a deep breath, then opens the door.

Rey watches the exchange with a tight knot building in her gut. She thought the knot would go away when the paladin finally acquiesced, but it doesn't. In fact, when Cal returns with a cadre of shambling corpses in tow, it actually gets worse.

Gods, what if they do that to me? What if I die in there, and whoever is behind this just... does that to me?

She quivers slightly at the thought, but steels herself as best she can. So kill them before they kill you, stupid. Easy peasy.

At Cal's offer, she nods tersely. The old guy is really starting to creep her out, but no need for him to know that.

As mentioned earlier, Andakos finds no traps or locks on the (already open) doors. But, at the other end of the dark hallway, another set of double doors bars the way. With a quick check, these are also not trapped but are locked. Despite its intricate complexity, Andakos is laser-focused and makes short work of it.

The doors swing open...

TO BE CONTINUED!

SUMMARY OF THE LIVE BATTLE AGAINST LADY ANDAISN

It is a dark day for Korvosa.

The plague of blood veil has run rampant through the streets; hundreds have died already, and at this rate of infection, every day brings more to the brink of death--or beyond it. The average victim can expect a week of life to remain before the hideous disease sends them to the Boneyard.

In this crisis point, the heroes descended into what turned out to be the lair of the Cult of Urgathoa in Korvosa, the vicious minds behind the disease's conception and the culprits behind the city's plague. After battling cultists and countless "Queen's Physicians" -- plague doctors hired by Doctor Rainer Devaulus, who in turn was appointed by the Queen herself -- the party found Rolth Lamm, demented son of Gaedren Lamm and his father's killer, as well as one of those aiding in mutating the disease to be even deadlier and more communicable. Rolth escaped, but the party trudged on.

They discovered an ancient and powerful nosferatu vampire named Ramoska Arkminos from Ustalav, who has been on loan from "his master" to aid the cult in studying the disease. Yet Ramoska seemed more interested in his own personal research, which he was performing on a young Varisian man named Ruan, whose sister begged the party to find him and bring him home. They struck a deal: if the party slayed the head of the cult here in Korvosa, a Nidalese outlaw noble named Lady Andaisin, and brought him her last remaining death's head coffer, he would consider his time in the city a wash and leave posthaste, with the young Ruan intact. Very, very reluctantly, the party agreed, and trudged on ahead.

After discovering several vats of plague (still not dealt with) and a quartet of pods (one of which was still occupied by a half-dead leukodaemon, which apparently they'd been using to help manufacture the disease) they eventually came upon the doors to Lady Andaisin's chamber.

Within stood a massive gold statue to Urgathoa herself, and niches where various disgusting bodily fluids bubbled in cauldrons. Standing before the statue, flanked by four juju zombies, Andaisin held aloft a ritual chalice filled with gods-knew-what and addressed the heroes.

"And so you have found your way to me, hopeful heroes. Know that you stand before the architect of your city's death. You call this sending 'blood veil,' yet I know it as the gentle kiss of the Pallid Princess. Your reward shall be great--choose one of the seven scourges to become one with the goddess. Those who drink I shall only cripple, leaving you alive to enjoy Her as She quickens inside your flesh. Those who abstain are fools, not fit to house the divine gift. You may prostrate yourselves at my feet, and I shall make your end all the more swift for it. Swifter, in any event, than this delightful end your lovely queen has enjoined me to create!"

To everyone's shock and amazement, the party refused, and battle ensued.

Andaisin's scythe and spells were menacing, but her juju zombies proved to be little use as the party ripped through them to reach the woman. Cal unleashed a small horde of zombies he'd raised (much to his daughter's disgust) to muck up the battlefield and stymie the Lady's efforts. It worked, and eventually the juju zombies fell, followed quickly by Andaisin herself.

But, of course, it was not going to be so easy.

Urgathoa "blessed" Her champion upon death, and Andaisin was warped and mutated into a terrifying undead abomination known as a Daughter of Urgathoa, her scythe melding into her own arm's flesh, covered in blood veil pustules, a deadly weapon indeed.

The party battled valiantly, reserves of spells and healing drained, and managed to chip away at the undead monstrosity. Andakos, enlarged and flying thanks to Cal's few remaining spells, chased after the transformed Andaisin through the air, but the wily fiend cast a spell to take his eyesight from him. Blind and vulnerable, she began whittling down the party until they had nothing left; not so much as an acid dart from Cal, nor a single smite or channel from Lori, and Rey down to her last dagger.

Then the unthinkable happened. Blind and mostly defenseless as he floated through the air, desperately lashing out blindly at Andaisin, she cleaved him in twain, from collarbone to opposite hip. His vitae spilled down from the air over the Eglens and Rey, and all hope seemed lost.

In a last desperate attempt to finally bring down Andaisin, Cal came up with an... unusual strategy. He found a scroll of mount among his belongings, and decided to conjure the horse, but he conjured it above Andaisin's head.

Her mocking peals of musical laughter were cut short by a terrified whinny, followed by about 1500 pounds of horse slamming on top of her head. They both landed on one of the remaining zombies, and all three of them were crushed; an ignoble end to an ignoble woman.

The two ragged halves of Andakos Viden slowly float down to the ground, shrinking back to their original size. Silence now reigns in the chamber.

Golloriel has always accepted -- even welcomed (though not in a masochistic way) -- the pain that always accompanies the transference of injuries from her companions to herself. She can hold her own with her scimitar, but she isn't much of a fighter. And she has some minor healing capabilities, but she will never be a cleric. But protecting her friends? Sarenrae has seen fit to make her excellent at it. If the price of that is taking on some of their pain, she gladly accepts the cost.

But this? She didn't sign up for this.

As Andaisin cuts Andakos down, Golloriel feels him die. Every agonizing moment of the scythe's passage through his torso, she shares with him. She looks down at her own chest, certain that she would see it tearing in two. Out of sheer instinctual self-preservation, she severs her link with him before that fear becomes a reality. The pain and terror ends abruptly, but she has only a split second of relief before she regrets dropping the link. She immediately tries reestablishing it -- maybe he isn't past saving! -- but cannot.

She has always been able to feel the tendrils of her companions' life essences, and linking their physical well-being to hers has always been as simple as reaching out and literally linking her essence to theirs.

Andakos's tendril is gone.

She still senses her father's and Rey's, and even Thúlae's is there, right on the edge of her perception. But Andakos's is gone.

It had always been the brightest.

---

She barely notices when her father crushes Andaisin with a horse (?!). She falls to her knees next to Andakos's corpse, unstraps her shield, and sets it aside. She lays her hand on her friend's chest, places the other on the sun emblazoned on her breastplate, and begins speaking. "Dawnflower, this one gave his life in the service of good and to vanquish a terrible evil that sought to cause the suffering and deaths of uncountable innocents. Forgive me for lacking the strength to protect him. Be the light to guide him to his final peace."

Caladaer wants nothing more than to revel in his ingenious idea. He just used a spell that the greenest acolyte could cast in his sleep to put down a powerful undead beast, a creature blessed by Urgathoa herself! It is unlikely he will do anything as badass as that again, and he's entitled to gloat about it.

But... but. The person who would be most impressed with what he just pulled off is lying in two pieces on the floor.

Godsdammit, tiefling.

He looks around the room, unsure what to do with himself. His daughter is praying at Andakos's side. Rey is just standing there, stunned. The zombies... oh. Yeah. The zombies. They need to go. He has absolutely no magic left, so he draws his dagger, looks at it, shrugs, and gets started on one of the three remaining zombies. He isn't skilled enough with a blade to make it quick, but the beast is under his complete control, so it stands there patiently while he remurders it.

He nods his thanks to Rey when she notices what he is doing and comes over to help (hope it's not presumptuous to make that assumption!). With her assistance, the zombies are down before Golloriel completes her prayer.

When she finishes and doesn't immediately get up, he again wonders what he should do. The obvious thing would be to comfort his daughter, but he ... well, he doesn't know how. And, if he's completely honest with himself, she probably doesn't want to be comforted by him.

He catches Rey's eyes and gestures that she should comfort Golloriel. In the meantime, he walks to Andaisin's remains, thankful that the summoned horse disappeared when it died rather than exploding all over the room (though it would be hard to make this room more covered in gore). He kneels next to her and searches her. Whatever else they do here, they need to find that death's head coffer.

Rey is, in fact, already on her knees, propping Andakos's head on her lap, fighting with all her might not to let the wracking sobs beating at her ribcage to come out.

She'd finally reconnected with someone, someone with no expectations of her, someone who--so far as she could tell--simply enjoyed her company and was happy to have her back in his life.

She suddenly wants to steal her father's fortune to resurrect Lady Andaisin and kill her again, this time with her own bare hands.

She knows where the rage comes from. The hate. Andakos understood it, too. Now, no one around her understands it.

Golloriel's prayer snaps her out of her anger, and pulls her grief to the fore. Cal's beckon is a welcome thing in this moment, allowing her to push that grief to the back of her mind and focus on something.

She gently lays Andakos's head on the gore-strewn stones and helps the wizard in his grisly task.

When it is complete, she kneels next to Lori and puts a hand on her shoulder. "We have a couple things to do before we take him from here," she whispers. "There are the vats of plague, and a young man to reunite with his sister. The vats will be... difficult without Andakos's brilliant mind. But we will make do." She stands, and offers the paladin her hand.

Cal holds a finger up impatiently while he finishes searching Andaisin. Once done, he sets aside anything he finds, then stands and begins to study the room.

I want to check out the pool in the middle and the seven pools (?) around the perimeter. Using detect magic and perception, I guess? He also has all the knowledges so feel free to roll whatever he needs. +14 arcana, +14 dung, +10 eng, +11 geog, +11 hist, +9 local, +10 nature, +9 nobles, +14 planes, +9 relig. +14 spellcraft with +2 to identify items.

perc: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29

Cal finds all the things. Some of them, he finds on Andaisin's mutated undead corpse. Others, he finds when he performs a search of the statue at the center of the room and finds a hidden compartment. So far as he can tell, it's not locked or trapped, relying on stealth to remain unspoiled. It contains several unseemly ceremonial "instruments" that are monetarily worthless, but also a few items of value.

The rest of the room is gross but otherwise not noteworthy; the brass basins built into the alcoves are essentially part of the masonry and impossible to move without a phenomenal amount of time and effort, and considering what's burbling in them at the moment, do you really want to?

On Andaisin:
- 2x Potion of barkskin
- +2 breastplate
- +2 vicious scythe
- belt of mighty constitution +2
- cloak of resistance +2
- headband of inspired wisdom +2
- onyx unholy symbol of Urgathoa worth 200gp
- pouch with 27gp, 3sp, 3cp

In the statue:
- 2x grim candelabra made from human hands encased in silver worth 150gp each
- several sticks of exotic incense worth a total of 450gp
- wand of cure serious wounds (37 charges)
- scroll of restoration
- scroll of raise dead (STG I did not add this in lol)
- 3x block of incense of meditation
- one empty, unused death's head coffer

Caladaer doesn't say anything out loud, but with the loot they are gathering here, they could afford to resurrect Andakos a dozen times over. Given the state of the city right now, it may be difficult to secure a cleric skilled enough to successfully read the scroll, but finding one that can keep him gentle reposed until things return to normal should be doable.

As he gathers their spoils, he glances at Andakos's broken body, idly wondering if there is divine magic strong enough to repair him back to full strength. He supposes powerful clerics wouldn't be as expensive (or as rare) as they are if it didn't restore the body, but what of the mind? Can one even as strong (Cal begrudgingly admits) as Andakos recover from such a trauma, or will he see Andaisin's scythe everywhere he turns?

Was it a blessing that he had been blinded and didn't see his demise coming?

He is so practiced at identifying magic items that these thoughts are all able to race through his mind even as he goes through the items one by one. But any opportunity to feel smug about his rapidly increasing magical abilities is undercut by another feeling, one he isn't familiar with: could he have taken Andaisin down sooner? After all, it was mere seconds after she cut Andakos down that he dropped a horse on her. Hells, he even took out his bow! His magic was gone, but he proved in the end that he had other tricks up his sleeve. Did he allow their frankly effortless handling of her human form to make him complacent?

Is it his fault Andakos is dead?

He shakes the thought from his head as he finishes up with the spoils. It strikes him that almost everything here will be useful to Golloriel way in one way or another... if he can convince her to use them. She would be the type to reject powerful relics with the taint of "evil" on them. He has a strong feeling this isn't over -- that stupidly powerful vampire in the other room hints at even more influential forces at work -- and they should take every advantage they can in order to keep those who are left alive.

But that is a conversation for another time. They have the death's head coffer; time to go make the trade for Kroft.

He finally responds to Rey. "Yes. He will be fine here while we deal with the business in the next room. Unless you'd like to stay with him, Golloriel?"

To even suggest they leave Andakos alone is ludicrous, but she isn't in the mood for a fight right now, so she simply nods and continues holding his hand. She tries really hard to not notice that it is rapidly cooling, but it is especially noticeable with him, given the moderate aura of heat that he radiated when he w... before.

Caladaer isn't surprised. He simply gestures for Rey to follow him and returns to the vampire's room. The vats can wait until they have retrieved Kroft; after all, she may useful in procuring the resources they need to deal with them.

He enters the room and immediately finds that he doesn't want to make eye contact with Kroft. What is happening to him?

He holds the coffer up to the creature. "Your spoils, Vampire. Return our comrade and leave this place."

If the ancient fiend is at all insulted by Caladaer's tone, he doesn't show it. He plucks the death's head coffer from Cal's hands gently, inspecting it as a jeweler might inspect the cut of a gem, then nods curtly, slips it into a large pouch, and bows. "Our agreement is fulfilled. I shall return to my home in Varno posthaste, and gods willing, we will not see each other again." Almost as an afterthought, he waves at the unconscious young man on the slab. "He will require medical treatment for mild dehydration and blood loss, but he is in no danger. He should make a full recovery. Good evening."

With that, Ramoska Arkminos turns on his heel and strides out of the room.

Kroft, who had been sitting on the nearby table with her legs dangling in the air, for all the world looking like a frightened child up past her bedtime, seems to shake herself free as soon as the vampire is gone. She hops off the table and straightens her posture, effortlessly returning to the stern countenance of Watch Commander. "Abadar save me, but that guy is a creep of the highest order. Let's get the boy out of here, and we can deal with those vats later, with Andakos's help." She seems to realize for the first time that Cal and Rey don't have the others with them. "Where's Golloriel and Andakos?"

When she sees their faces--Rey's is especially stricken--Kroft's face falls. "No. Oh, no."

Rey swallows through the lump in her throat and says hoarsely, "Andakos... died. Andaisin cut him in half. Golloriel is with the..." She squeezes her eyes shut to stop the tears threatening to run down her cheeks. When she's convinced she has herself mostly under control, she opens them and clears her throat. "Golloriel is with him."

Kroft's jaw clenches, but she simply nods. "Come with me."

I think it's time to do a little montage to close things out.

The next several minutes are a bit of a blur for everyone. Kroft brings down several Watchers to help hack the vats until they crack in several spots, taking what precautions she can think of to keep from exposing her men to the vile goop inside, but in the end, she's more concerned with the damage they could cause if left intact. She still asks for volunteers instead of assigning anyone to it, and takes part herself despite her underlings' protests, but in the end, the vats are damaged enough to destroy whatever magic is perpetually heating them, without too much leaking everywhere. As Andakos had noted before, without the perpetual heat, the virus will eventually die.

Two Watchers come to help Golloriel carry away Andakos's body, one of whom is the dwarf woman, Ag. She looks particularly stricken at seeing him, her eyes constantly drifting to the magic spear she gave him. Perhaps she wonders if she could have done more to offer him protection. But what good is a spear to blind eyes?

----

Kroft demands the surviving trio stay at Citadel Volshyanek tonight. She wants a full debriefing, but the three of you are clearly about to fall over from grief and exhaustion. "Get some rest. When you're awake, come find me and debrief me then." An on-duty priest of Abadar makes sure Andakos doesn't fall to decay with a quick gentle repose spell. The body is placed in the adjacent barracks room, currently unattended, with an honor guard watching over him overnight.

----

It is late afternoon by the time the party is finally roused to report to the commander's office. By that time, Kroft's reports are beginning to trickle in. What Physicians she can find have been arrested, though the Gray Maidens maintain they knew nothing of "Devaulus's plot" and anyway, the Queen has expressly forbidden the arrest of any of the Maidens.

"Rolth Lamm and Ramoska Arkminos both left considerable notes behind. Combined with the data from Devaulus's experiments on the upper floor of the warehouse, our alchemists should be able to craft a cure for blood veil in a few days. It would have gone quicker with Andakos, of course, but..." She trails off, closing it out with a helpless shrug. "I hesitate to believe the off-hand remarks of a cultist, but it's hard to see how the Queen didn't know about Devaulus's plot. But... why?? It makes no sense!" She slams her fist on her desk in frustration. "I need answers. And you" she jabs a finger at the surviving trio "need to lay low. If Ileosa really did orchestrate this catastrophe, she probably knows you were involved. I can't help you from here on out; I have a duty to uphold the law. So go now, while you can. Keep a low profile for a while. Maybe I can do something to stymie her efforts to hunt you down without breaking my oaths."

She stands up and, for the first time since any of you have met her, she opens her door to let you out instead of just dismissing you. "It's not all bad news, though," she adds before you leave. "The Videns are paying to have Andakos restored to life. Unfortunately, they're in just as much danger as you, if what Andaisin said is true. But they've got money, that should help get them to safety. You three need to watch your backs. Good luck."

----

Rey doesn't tell the Eglens where she's going. She simply tells them she'll find them if she needs to. You suppose she'll be plotting a way to get to her father, now that the plague seems to have been nipped in the bud.

I hope you don't mind, I'm making a big assumption here but I want you to have a sanctuary for the next part and this is the best bet now that the Videns are out of the picture.

In a moment of inspiration, Golloriel feels a gut instinct that she should ask Mother Fatia for help. She doesn't even hesitate. "None here will reveal you to any authorities. We answer to a higher authority than mortal kings and queens, and you and your father's work has helped us save many lives. I would not punish that, on pain of death. Go, get some rest. We still have many sick to tend to, but I think you and your father have earned a day off."

Golloriel likely refuses the offer and digs into the work of tending to the hundreds of sick in the church, or perhaps she spends the day's remaining hours training downstairs, or in quiet contemplation in her small room.

We all know what Caladaer does, however. He hasn't had a chance to study his spellbook and replenish his entirely depleted stores of magic. And all these new toys to examine!

Cal enters his small room and closes the door. When he looks up, he realizes he is not alone.

A tall, slender woman with narrow, striking features and a shock of wild, gorgeous red hair stands with supreme regality, long fingers laced in front of her and resting against her dress a shade of green that evokes the unabashed abandon of verdant fields. She smiles at Cal, looking like a queen at court rather than in a dingy little monastic cell. Or a predatory cat looking at a mouse.

She is played by Eva Green. And while Cal doesn't recognize her, you definitely should.

"Caladaer Eglen," she purrs. "What a delight to finally meet you here in this... place." Her regal smile momentarily dims as she glances at the worked stone and spare bed of the cell, but the smile returns quickly. "Dear Niamh has told me all about you." The name Niamh rings through Cal's head like a gong, momentarily making him flinch, but the sensation passes as quickly as it came. Why, he cannot say. He certainly doesn't recognize the name.

"Yes, all about you," she adds with a knowing smirk, "and your... pursuits." She licks her teeth at that. "I am The Leanan Sidhe. I am the Queen of the Forests of Man. I speak on behalf of the Eldest. I carry immense power. Power I may grant to those I deem worthy." She takes a step forward, and one long finger brushes Cal's cheek. It's hard to ignore her beauty--but it's even harder to ignore those sharp nails so close to his throat. When she finally pulls the finger away, she cuts his cheek with a small, quick motion. It's superficial, but it does bleed a little. As she pulls her finger away, a thin trail of blood floats through the air, following her fingertip as if magnetized. The blood pools at her fingertip into a little orb, which then thrums quietly with palpable dark energy.

"My gifts are many," she whispers sensually. "And I can be very, very generous to those who aid me." She steps back, resting her hands once again on her green dress. The small blood orb continues to float in the air between the two of them.

"I have a proposition for you, mortal. One which will benefit you greatly. Please, let us talk."

She waves a hand almost dismissively at one unadorned wall, and the floating orb of blood splashes against it with far more force than expected for the ball's tiny size. It smashes through the wall, ripping it open into a portal to somewhere else, somewhere almost violently green and resplendent with riots of color, but also with dark, brooding browns and blacks. It's a swamp, but it's as if someone grew the world's most vibrant flower garden and interlaced it across every inch of plant life in that swamp.

She looks expectantly at Cal. He's completely depleted of magic; if she wanted to force him to go, she absolutely could, in his weakened state. Yet she is clearly waiting for an answer, meaning she doesn't want to force him.

She's fae. He knows they can be fickle and untrustworthy, but he also knows they hold immense power, and are bound by certain laws--many of which are beyond the average mortal's comprehension. But he's Caladaer Eglen, Master Summoner. He is not an average mortal. And the power she used... it was Dark. With a capital "D." Something itches at the back of Cal's mind. The thrill he felt holding Vreeg's spellbook, perusing the necromantic arts. The power over life and death that coursed through him like lightning as he raised the dead to fight on his behalf against Andaisin. This power she wields... it's not quite the same, but it is very similar. Just thinking about it...

The Leanan Sidhe seems to read something of this in Cal's face. She smiles that predatory smile again. "I offer my word as hostess that you will come to no harm in my Realm, so has it been spoken. Well, Caladaer? How does untold power and knowledge sound?" She makes a grand sweeping gesture at the portal.

Caladaer Eglen must make a choice.

END OF BOOK 2: SEVEN DAYS TO THE GRAVE

Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24

What does Cal know about this lady? Not that it matters that much; she has shown her power and Cal's mind is basically already made up. But he would still like to know who it is he's going through a mysterious portal with while essentially completely helpless.

Caladaer doesn't say a word as the... woman?... makes her sales pitch and demonstration of power. Even after she is done speaking and awaiting an answer, he doesn't respond. He doesn't ask questions, though of course he has many. She doesn't seem the type to answer them truthfully--or at all--anyway.

Cal isn't the particular flavor of arrogant that allows one to believe oneself to be superior to all others and incapable of being outsmarted. But he is the type of arrogant that believes that only a being capable of outsmarting him has anything to offer him. The promise of "untold" power is obviously bullshit; that said, he has to admit to being intrigued.

Kroft told them to lay low. Fatia and her band of fanatics will protect Golloriel, who surely will spend her time training and tending to the rabble. Going to the fey realm with a fey queen to learn some fey knowledge sounds like a better time than wallowing in his own filth again.

The creature is still looking at him, patiently awaiting his response. His head almost imperceptibly turns toward the door--toward Golloriel--then he shrugs and walks through the portal.

Andakos gasps, then screams. He keeps screaming until several realizations creep into him: his sight has returned, he is back to his normal size, he is naked, and the woman speaking is not Andaisin spitting insults and threats, but his mother trying to calm him down.

Even after the screaming stops, his heart continues to pound out of his chest and his breath refuses to slow. After what feels like an eternity, he is finally able to speak. "... Mom? What happened?!" He looks around the room as if it's the first time he is seeing it, and his eyes grow even wilder. "Where are Golloriel and Rey?" He grabs his mom's arm in a vise grip. "WHAT HAPPENED?!"

Unfortunately, it's actually going to be a bit before we get back to Andakos. This is for the future, but fear not, it doesn't require any retconning, just patience.

Cal has heard the name Leanan Sidhe, but knows almost nothing about her outside a handful of tall tales. She supposedly controls a vast swath of the Dreambog in the First World, and those who enter her domain rarely come out alive, et cetera. She is a creature of myth and legend, powerful but not the mightiest of the First World's denizens. Yet even the Eldest, the mighty near-godlike beings of the First World strong enough to be worshiped by mortals, still tread carefully around her, especially in her domain.

While his knowledge of the Leanan Sidhe in particular is limited, his knowledge of fey is quite vast, and he knows of the Laws of Hospitality. If she gives her word of his safety while in her realm, it is as binding as the very laws of physics--yet while magic can bend those physics (as a practiced wizard such as he well knows) the Laws of Hospitality are inviolable. He's not entirely sure why--something about arbiters and punishments severe enough to make even the Eldest fear to break them--but he knows he will be unharmed in her home, at the very least. And her offer of power might actually not be quite so bullsh*t as he first assumed. He does recall a few tales of her bestowing boons upon mortals she favors.

Regardless of whether that particular bit of info is legitimate or not, the knowledge of the Laws of Hospitality is enough for him. He steps through the portal, and vanishes from the world of mortals.

-----

Golloriel has barely laid her head on her pillow when she sits bolt upright. Something feels... off. A tingling in the back of her mind, a sensation of something vaguely... well, not familiar, exactly, but maybe familial. Something calling to her blood--but not the elven blood.

No sooner does she start to try and shake the sensation away than she hears a commotion coming up the stairs outside her room. Heavy-booted feet tromp down the hall, and voices shout orders to fan out. A fist bangs on her door then opens it unceremoniously. It's Captain Brokenev. Her blade is out, and her face is bordering on panic--an emotion you have never seen grace Talia's stony features.

"The church's alarms have been triggered! Someone has teleported into the building!"

Golloriel is up and donning her armor before the door even opens, but Captain Brokenev's face gives her pause. She drops the greave she had been strapping on to the floor, grabs her spear, and rushes past the Captain and into the hallway, barefoot and wearing nothing but her nightclothes.

The magic is quick to help the Dawnbreakers pinpoint the location of the breach, and all eyes turn to Golloriel when it leads them directly to her father's door.

There is a pregnant pause before Talia throws open the door to his room.

It is empty.

Golloriel nearly drops her spear to rush into the room, but her intense paladin training takes over and she maintains her composure. Still, she enters the room first, spear at the ready, and looks around as best she can in the dim light.

Man, it's almost cruel to have her making this check...

perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21

Hey not bad!

A few of her father's belongings lie strewn about haphazardly, but Golloriel is familiar enough with Cal to know this isn't signs of a struggle, just his usual slovenliness. There are no traces of where he could have gone.

Talia leans toward one of the other Dawnbreakers--Sister Morrigan, you think--and mutters, "Go wake Nyx."

That's not a name you've heard before, but the captain speaks it in a familiar tone. Morrigan rushes down the hall to a much farther nacelle and raps hard on the door, which cracks open a moment later. Morrigan speaks in quiet but urgent tones to the room's occupant, then leads a smallish figure down the hall to Cal's room.

A short human of indeterminate gender shuffles hesitantly to the doorway. Their shaggy black hair and long, greasy bangs partially cover their gray eyes, which peer timidly into the room. They look young, though not quite a child--perhaps in their mid- to late teens. Tell-tale scars from blood veil blisters mark their pale neck, though they show no signs of current symptoms. Their rail-thin body is wrapped in a plain gray tunic, charcoal breeches, and a ratty black cloak with the hood down. Yet for all the drab colors, a bright purple sash can just barely be seen poking out from under their tunic's collar. No weapons adorn their plain leather belt, and the only armor that you can see is a scuffed leather gauntlet covered in rusted iron plates covering their left hand, which grips the door frame uncertainly.

In a raspy voice even smaller than they are, they mutter, "C-can I come in? M-Miss Morrigan asked me to look for magic."

They look like they might fall apart if you so much as sneeze in their general direction.

Golloriel nods numbly and stands aside to allow Nyx room to work. She is desperate to start digging through her father's things, in search of a clue, of anything that might explain what's happening.

She doesn't even consider the possibility that her father is just out. Caladaer Eglen doesn't go out. Something happened here, she is sure of it.

She stands and she waits.

After a few moments of concentration, Nyx shudders and turns to Talia. "Teleportation. Really powerful."

Captain Brokenev, still clearly on edge, snaps, "Speak up, child. Where is Caladaer? Was he taken? By magic?"

Nyx flinches slightly, but forces themself to square their shoulders and talk louder. "No," they almost yell, but then blush and lower their voice slightly. "Not by magic. No enchantment, so no compulsions. No transmutation or necromancy, either. Just conjuration, and only the one spell. But it's powerful enough to still leave a trace, so whoever made the portal was a very strong caster. Even stronger than me, and I don't know many people who can do what I do, aside from a few of the teachers at the Academae." Their mouth twists a little when they say it; clearly they don't care for the institution.

Captain Brokenev swallows. "Three months ago, I would have said the idea of an Academae professor teleporting into the House of Dawn uninvited would be inconceivable, let alone kidnapping a wizard as strong as your father. But now..." They shrug helplessly at Golloriel. "I don't know. I don't know what else to do. We will continue to search the grounds for clues. Let us know if you require further aid."

Lori knows her father well. If someone with powerful magic came in and offered to give him such power... would he leave her? Surely he wouldn't...?

Talia is not a personable woman, and has almost never shown emotion in the weeks that Lori has spent here, but she reaches out a gauntleted hand and gently squeezes Golloriel's shoulder before barking more orders and hustling off to continue her search of the grounds.

That leaves Golloriel alone with the new stranger.

Nyx glances around awkwardly, not making eye contact with the armored warrior in front of them. Even in her heightened state, they find her very majestic, and majestic people intimidate the hell out of them. Well--to be fair, most people intimidate them. But especially people with charisma. Yet they don't leave. They want--no, they need to help her, if they can. They understand that she just lost a parent, and that...

Nyx understands that pain all too well. They squeeze their eyes shut to hold back the tears; it's far too soon to even think about. Mama and Papa were only buried two days ago, in a mass grave in the Gray District, because there just weren't enough grave sites to accommodate the numbers of dead from the plague. It's so unfair...

They manage to avoid sobbing in front of the stranger, but only just. In a meek voice (but at least louder than the near-whisper of when they first came in) Nyx says, "C-can I help? I dunno what else I can do, but... I wanna help. If I can."

Golloriel is barefoot and in her nightclothes. Maybe that's a little less intimidating for Nyx? XD

Now that they are alone and the initial shock of the situation is waning, Golloriel realizes she has a death grip on her spear and that it is maybe ever-so-slightly pointed at this poor person who is clearly intimidated but still offering help. Golloriel takes a deep breath, leans her spear on the wall, and holds her hand out by way of greeting. "Thank you. My name is Golloriel Eglen. This is my father's room. I appreciate what you've done so far, but I don't want you to feel obligated to help. Lately..."--she chokes back a sob--"... lately things have been dangerous... deadly... around my father and me." She looks at the floor for a few moments, then back at Nyx. "You are clearly knowledgeable about magic. I am not. And my father is powerful, but impulsive and maybe a little self-destructive. I have a feeling this is going to get messy. So I would welcome the help but you need to understand what you are truly offering." She looks Nyx in the eyes, trying very hard not to seem desperate.

A half-fey certified hottie is standing in front of them in her nightgown, no they are not LESS intimidated XD

Nyx shakes the hand tentatively and mutters "Nyx." Gods, can't you even look her in the eye when you say your name? Despite their self-admonishment, Nyx still looks down at the floor. They wish Golloriel had given a more concrete answer. They've never been particularly good at parsing implied meanings or double entendres. Well, she did say she'd welcome the help. That's going to have to be enough.

"I... don't really have much to do. My skills aren't, uh. Well, Papa said they weren't 'marketable.' I guess he meant they're not much good for making money. I can't read the cards like Mama or Aunt Tonya or cousin Katia. But I can do things. Magic, and stuff. I don't want it to go to waste. Mama said I have a gift. She--" Nyx stops, a sudden huge lump in their throat blocking words. They croak feebly, but after a moment of monumental battle for self-control, they swallow and finish, "She's gone now. And... Papa. I don't... I need something to do. Please." They hate how much desperation is in their voice, but they can't quite seem to wrestle all of themself back under control. One tear drips down their cheek, leaving a clear trail through the grime.

Nyx closes their eyes, takes a deep breath, and when they open them again, says in a slightly steadier voice, "Let me at least look around. Four eyes are better than two. Right?"

Perception vs Room: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (12) + 11 = 23

Nyx immediately spots two separate sets of footprints in the considerable dust of Caladaer's sparse room. One of them is slightly larger than the other, and the smaller set appears to start at the west wall, walk halfway into the narrow room, then walk back to the west wall and vanish; the larger prints seem to follow the smaller ones into the wall. When pointed out, Lori is fairly confident she recognizes the tread of her father's shoes as the larger prints. The other is a soft-soled boot of some kind. She does not recognize those.

Nyx can tell that the nearly-faded traces of teleportation magic emanate from the west wall.

Golloriel's shoulders slump as Nyx (Katia's cousin? Nice.) describes what she sees. She had immediately suspected but didn't want to believe it: someone powerful came here, tempted or threatened her father, and he left with that person, seemingly willingly. Was it the vampire? Probably not; Nyx had said the second pair of footprints were smaller and the vampire had been about her father's size. So, who then?

No one good.

She wishes Andakos were here. He would already know 90% of what happened here, but more importantly he would know what to do next.

Kroft had said that his family was resurrecting him, hadn't she? Maybe...?

No! He DIED. This is your problem to deal with. And Nyx... who is offering to help a complete stranger with an almost certainly dangerous task.

She turns back to Nyx, finally seeing the grief and uncertainty in her face. She reaches out to squeeze Nyx's shoulder. "I am sorry about your parents. Thank you for helping me. Is there... is there any way you can tell where they went?" She blushes. "Sorry, I don't know much about how arcane magic works. I only have a few divine spells."

So not direct cousins, but Varisian families tent to move in big groups, so lots of second/third cousins, relations by marriage, etc. It's entirely possible their families aren't even related at all and just consider each other family. I haven't decided yet, I just know that Nyx knows the Karelas. Probably babysat Dellan and Nell at some point, even.

Nyx gives a pained expression. "No. Sorry." They're quickly discovering that they don't really have much to offer for aid, at least at the moment. For all their 'gifts,' they certainly don't feel like they're being very helpful. "I wish there was something more I could do. I want... want to do something. To not..." They stop and take a deep breath. This isn't Golloriel's problem. She's got her own problems right now.

Nyx clears their throat. "Sorry I wasn't more help. I don't know if it's important or not, but the spell was strong. Not a dimension door or something close-range. I think it might have been a plane shift, actually, but I can't be sure." They rub their arm through their wrinkled, threadbare tunic. "I'm... gonna go see if I can help with the search. If you need anything, just let me know. I could use the distraction. It was nice meeting you. Sorry it was under these circumstances." They give an awkward, muted half-smile that they hope is reassuring but probably just looks weird, and shuffle out to go find the Dawnbreakers.

I'm going to go ahead and switch gears here, but feel free to keep posting with Lori if there's more for her to do. Otherwise I'll just assume she spends her free time searching for clues to Cal's whereabouts and/or studying. Certainly it would make sense for her to bury herself in religious texts to try and distract from her father's disappearance.

Excepting further RP, we will jump to...

END OF WEEK 1 OF INTERLUDE

----

WEEK 2:

4 Arodus, 4707 AR
Moonday

We'll settle this scene before getting to Lune, since it's technically already been started.

Dawn's rays pour through the ostentatious gold-gilded stained-glass windows of the Bank of Abadar and pierces the eyes of the suddenly and very rudely awakened corpse of Andakos, who now sits up staring wildly at his surroundings.

He is sitting up on a fine goose-down mattress with silk sheets dyed silver with gold trim. Equally fine tapestries adorn the marble walls, displaying lively scenes of bustling marketplaces in various cities, from the packed throngs of Absalom to the sweltering open-air markets of Katapesh. The golden key of Abadar's faith are everywhere, so Andakos has little doubt of his location. If he needed further proof, he need only look at one of the two people flanking the bed.

On one side, his mother stand from where she'd been sitting in an over-stuffed rocking chair, grasping his hand in a vice grip like she never wants to let go again, a silk kerchief in the other stained with tears. On the other side stands a familiar face: Ishani Dhatri, the Abadaran priest who cured little Brienna Soldado of the blood veil. He doesn't look much better off than Alecta, his eyes sunken behind dark, heavy bags, and his hair greasy and mussed as if he has neither bathed nor slept in several days.

Alecta throws her arms around her son and weeps openly. "My boy! My sweet boy! I thought I'd lost you! Oh, gods!"

Ishani smiles, and though it is clearly strained, it also seems quite genuine. "I'm glad to see you back with us, Master Viden. It was... a bit of an ordeal bringing you back." The words elicit a sudden flash of memory in Andakos, of a massive scythe tearing through his flesh like paper, a horrible sense of agony and separation, before a violent hurtling into darkness.

Golloriel watches Nyx leave and looks one last time around her father's room, again wishing that Andakos was here. Then she sighs, grabs her spear, and returns to her room to get dressed. She feels the fatigue of the last few days down to her bones, but she knows there is no hope for sleep anytime soon. Might as well let the people who are good at looking for things and investigating do their jobs and distract herself doing what she is good at: looking after others.

She tracks down Mother Fatia and asks where she is needed.

Andakos squeezes his eyes shut, but that only makes the vision worse. He died. He doesn't remember what happened between that and now, but he knows in his bones that it was nothing good. Where did he go? A shudder passes through him.

He looks down at his body. The physical damage is seemingly completely gone; if he didn't know exactly where he was cut in half, he doesn't think he would even be able to find the wisp of a scar. Ishani--and Abadar through him--did impressive work.

These thoughts race through his mind in a split second, and then he realizes his mother didn't answer his question. He pulls away so he can look in her eyes. "Mom. MOM. Golloriel and Rey. Are they okay? And where is Lyse?"

Mother Fatia puts Golloriel to work tending to the many sick still at the church, and indeed has her busy with that most of the week, when Lori isn't studying. Sleep is rare, and fitful when it arrives, but on the bright side, day by day fewer sick come to the church for aid. By the fifth day, a cure has been announced and is making the rounds in the various neighborhoods. On the seventh day, Moonday, Lori can't hold it back anymore. The exhaustion catches up to her, and she crashes onto her cot in the early hours of the morning to pass out cold.

Roll with me on this one, I have reasons for it.
----

Apparently sensing a very personal conversation coming, Ishani quietly excuses himself. "I'll post an acolyte outside, in case you need anything." He bows his head slightly and slips out.

Alecta watches him go, but even after she's alone in the room with her son, she hesitates to answer him, chewing her lip. "Lyse is safe," she finally says. "She's with your father, packing her things back at home. It's been... difficult, these last few days." She sniffles and squeezes her son's hand, looking down at the sheets, apparently unable to meet his gaze. "We tried to get the resurrection done sooner, but there were complications. They said it's something to do with the... the b-b--blade that... killed you." She looks like she's going to lose it again, but keeps herself together. "You couldn't be returned by... by simpler means. It required stronger magic."

She buries her face in her free hand for a moment, then wipes her eyes and continues. "We are modestly wealthy, but the cost... it was more than we had. I tried to reach out to friends for help, but they were all either shuttered in to ride out the plague, or... or dead." She sighs, looking significantly older than the last time Andakos saw her. She barks a bitter laugh. "I even tried to ask Glorio for help." Her mouth twists up at the thought before she can control her face. "But Old Korvosa..." She shudders. "Old Korvosa is lost. The quarantine has been lifted on the rest of the city, but not there. Riots, chaos. It's completely sealed off. The Gray Maidens burned all the bridges to Old Korvosa save one, and that's barricaded." She shakes her head. "Sorry, I'm rambling. The point is, Glorio was not able to help--if he would have, anyway." She sighs.

"We had no choice, dear." Now she finally does look up, and her face is a portrait of agony. "W-we had to sell the estate." She raises a hand to cut off the protest that would surely come. "Do not chastise me for choosing my son's life over some brick and mortar. Your father has family in Kaer Maga, still. We'll go there. It might be a bit cramped in his sister's guest house, but we'll make do."

She pats his hand and looks away again. "As to your friends, I'm sorry. I don't know. Last I heard, Miss Eglen went back to the House of Dawn. I don't know where Reyhan has gone. She hasn't visited since you... since the incident."

Alecta stares off into the middle distance. Andakos knows his mother well. Something else clearly eating at her.

Andakos lets out a breath. "So they survived? Caladaer too?"

He thinks for a moment. "Thank you for bringing me back. And don't worry about the money; we have amassed a small fortune uncovering the conspiracy in the city. I will give you my share."

Then he notices the look on his mother's face. "What are you not telling me?"

Alecta shakes her head. "Keep it, dear. It's... that's not the only reason we have to leave. We have it on good authority the Queen is coming after our family. Apparently whatever you did at the House of the Blessed Maiden got her in a foul mood." She waves a hand absently. "I don't believe you would do something untoward. Whatever you did down there, you did for the good of Korvosa. I don't doubt for a second. But it does mean we aren't safe. The sooner we can all get out of here, the better. I know you still have some mending to do, something about negative energy on raised bodies? I don't know, I've never had a head for magic. But whatever it is, the priests in Kaer Maga can take care of you. We need to leave as soon as possible."

She seems like she's putting off Andakos's question, but eventually she can't take it anymore. "Something is... wrong. With Queen Ileosa. I don't know what it is, but..." Andakos has seen his mother nervous, even afraid a few times, but she has always managed it with grace and nerves of steel. Now...

Now, she looks abjectly terrified. "She made an appearance this morning. She addressed a crowd of people about the plague..."

----

Earlier that morning...

Dawn has barely spilled her golden cream westward across the city of Korvosa, but there is already a massive gathering in the great courtyard at the base of the ancient stone pyramid on which Castle Korvosa rests. The crowd mills nervously, most of them remembering all too well the last time they were here and the chaotic events that ensued.

The crowd quickly quiets when five figures step onto the balcony high above. The first is Commander Cressida Kroft of the city guard, tired and pallid from exhaustion yet straight-backed and stern as ever.

The second is a tall man with short-cropped, dirty blonde hair, with an ornate bow and quiver on his back: Commandant Marcus Endrin, leader of the Sable Company Marines. Several note how ill-at-ease he looks with the proceedings about to begin, and he shows his fatigue and frustration far more openly than Kroft.

The third is a huge, corpulent man practically bursting out of his filthy black robes with rolls of near-white skin. He blanches at the sun as if it is an ancient enemy, but smiles at the crowd; everyone wishes he wouldn't, it's horrifying. This is Togomor; little is known of the new Seneschal, save that he entered the Queen's service only a few weeks after the disappearance of Neolandus Kalepopolis, King Eodred II's seneschal who vanished just before the king's death. The few who have had the displeasure of speaking to Torgomor say he is as repugnant in personality as he is in appearance.

Fourth is the personal bodyguard of the Queen, Sabina Merrin. She stands like a statue of steel, bedecked in her resplendent plate mail and crimson horse hair-trimmed helm. Her face, as always, is hidden behind her closed helm. A heavy longsword is sheathed at her belt, and an ornate kite shield is strapped to her back.

And finally, the Queen. Ileosa herself is stunning in a form-fitting dress of deep crimson, trimmed in gold, with a plunging neckline and gold lace at the wrists. Yet most curious is not her dress, but the crown upon her head. The old crown of Korvosa no longer rests there, but a new crown: it is comprised of a series of ornate alabaster triangles filigreed with gold and silver, with a shimmering ruby set into the front, like a crown made of the fangs of some great beast, jutting out of her fiery red hair like spikes. It is an ominous-looking creation.

Ileosa speaks, and the magic laced into the balcony's stonework amplifies her voice over the crowd far below.

"Good people of Korvosa, you have suffered greatly these past months. First, my beloved husband's death, then riots and murder at the hands of violent dissidents. One blow after another, and yet you persevered! Our great city did not fall, but came back stronger than ever! And then, the blood veil came.

"It has swept through our streets, casting down rich and poor alike. It has ravaged our homes and businesses. It has cost us countless lives. But even this, we have survived, and defeated! The villainous Dr. Devaulus, who orchestrated this evil plague, has been cut down, and the threat to our city ended!" She waits, as if for applause, but none comes. Only muted, haunted faces stare back at her. A moment of frustration washes over her face, but she quickly returns to solemnity.

"Alas, Korvosa remains wounded. Old Korvosa remains a hotbed of plague and anarchy, and I have been forced to maintain the quarantine on the district. As well, the Hellknights, the Order of the Nail, have shown their true colors and fled the city, crawling to the west to hide in Citadel Vraid like cowards! Worse, both the Korvosan Guard and Sable Company have suffered terrible losses. Neither is fully capable of continuing as Korvosa's protectors.

"Fortunately, the Gray Maidens are here to help. They were instrumental in maintaining order and crushing Devaulus's plans, and now they will pick up the slack of the city guard. I hereby appoint Sabina Merrin as the new general of Korvosa's forces!" Sabina steps forward, bows once, and steps back. A handful of half-hearted applause meets the news, but mostly it causes a ripple of concerned muttering and whispers. Her bodyguard is the new general? Endrin's jaw clenches, but Kroft not react. Ileosa continues:

"To that end, the Sable Company has become a drain on the city's beleaguered resources. To feed the hippogriff's alone is prohibitively expensive, and the company's commander, Neolandus Kalepopolis, has been missing since before my husband's death--suspicious indeed! Not to mention the Company's incompetence in handling the disaster of the blood veil. I have decided to disband the Sable Company, and redistribute its holdings to the Gray Maidens to aid in their new work." The ripple of whispers become cries of alarm and dismay: The Sable Company has protected Korvosa for generations! What is this madness? Undeterred, Ileosa turns her icy gaze to Marcus Endrin. "Commandant! Step forward, and surrender your badge of office!"

Endrin steps forward, trembling. His fury is written all over his face. He reaches for his badge, but instead of turning it over, he throws it at the Queen, striking her cheek and leaving a tiny cut there. Blood trickles down as the entire crowd freezes in shocked silence, including the other four people on the balcony.

"Your shameful reign ends now!" Marcus bellows. "Korvosa will be free again!"

It happens so fast. In an instant, Endrin's bow is in his hands and he's fired an arrow at the Queen at near point-blank. The arrow strikes her in the right temple, sinking deep into her skull.

Yet Ileosa does not fall.

With incredible speed, she regains her composure and yanks the arrow from her skull. Before blood from the wound has time to run all the way down her jaw, she's standing before Endrin. Her free hand whips out and seizes him by the throat, lifting him off the ground and holding him up for all to see. An instant later, she stabs Endrin's own arrow up under his jaw and out the side of his face with a spray of blood.

As Endrin's body crumples to the ground and Ileosa imperiously shakes his blood from her hand, she cries out in a strong, clear voice, "This shall be the fate of all enemies of Korvosa! Mark well his punishment! It is only the first!" A moment later, Togomor steps forward, taking Ileosa's hand and teleporting her away.

Time seems to freeze for the entire gathering, and seconds slip away before finally someone screams. The scream is met with another, and another, and within moments a riot has broken out in the castle courtyard. Royal guards and a few Gray Maidens wade in to brutally quell the panicked, furious citizenry. By the end, nearly a dozen are dead and three times that number bloodied and under arrest before the courtyard is cleared.

Cressida Kroft is nowhere to be seen.

----

Once she finishes detailing the morning's events, Alecta says frantically, "Yesterday, I gave no thought whatsoever to rumors of Ileosa's anger at you for the Blessed Maiden. But now? Gods, she's mad, Andakos! We have to get out of the city while we still can. Please, get dressed. We have to go!"

It's not lost on Andakos that she didn't answer his questions, but he does think she would have said so if any of his other companions hadn't made it. Still, he supposes he can't fault her for being distracted, and it suddenly hits him: has he been so caught up in everything going on that he failed to consider the danger he has put his family in? And why did the absolutely f+&+ing bonkers story she just told him not surprise him at all?

"Shit, mom, I'm sorry. You're right. Let's go." He tries to stand, immediately discovers that his legs can't hold his weight, and leans on his mother for support. "Um. Maybe you can help me?"

It doesn't take long for his strength, such as it is in his weakened state, to return, and he finishes getting dressed on his own. Once done, he nods. "Okay. Let's go."

Outside the door, Ishani is waiting. "Hold a moment, Master Viden. Please." He digs into a scroll tube on his back and hands Andakos a wand. "Take this. Hopefully your friend Golloriel can cast it for you, should you need it. I..." His face looks pained. "I cannot, I'm afraid. No good deed goes unpunished." He gives a tired smile, but you don't see a hint of regret on his face. In fact, it seems as tired and worn-down as the priest clearly is, a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you for everything you've done for the city. I pray we meet again someday, under better circumstances."

I'll save you a roll. It's a wand of restoration with 4 charges. And technically it's on the investigator "spell" list so Ducky can cast it, but Ishani doesn't know that.

This is an expensive gift, even with only a few charges left on it. "One of the uses is for the after-effects of your resurrection. The rest... well. I suspect you will find a use for them in the days to come."

Technically you would need to roll this since there's a chance of failure, but your Kn (religion) is so high you'd only fail on a 1, so I'll just give it to you.

Abadar has always been your parents' religion, not yours, but you are relatively familiar with His tenets. Giving such an expensive gift--any gift, really--is anathema to the Guardian of the First Vault. This fact, plus Ishani's words, makes it clear to the investigator that the man has been castigated by his god and can no longer cast divine spells.

Andakos rests a hand on Ishani's shoulder and gives him a knowing glance. "Thank you, my friend. This is a fine gift. But your association with our family means you won't be safe either; I wouldn't put it past the Queen to use you as leverage to get to us. You should come with us."

Regardless of Ishani's response, Andakos looks over the wand. He does feel absolutely horrible. He doesn't know when he'll see Golloriel again, especially if he and his family are leaving the city. It's not a spell he can prepare an extract for yet--he requires much more study to emulate a spell of this power--but his basic alchemical training gives him the means to activate it himself.

I wasn't sure if wands were like scrolls where you actually need to be able to cast the spell to activate it without a UMD check, but the only thing I can find is that the spell must be on the class's spell list, not that you can currently cast it. So it looks like no check is required!

He boops himself with the wand and instantly feels worlds better.

"Mom, do you have all of my gear? I feel practically naked without it."

The wand's magic washes over Andakos, and the weakness in his limbs, the fog in his brain, the tremor in his fingers--all vanish as if washed away by warm, pleasant water.

At Andakos's offer, Ishani shakes his head. "A generous offer, but I have work to do here, yet. I may not have the power I once held, but I have many friends in the city. Maybe we can put our heads together and find a way to help people while this is all going on. Honestly, I think my current... er, predicament, is actually a boon, here. I doubt she will see much of a threat from a cleric on the outs with his deity. But I will take precautions just in case," he adds hastily. "I have never been particularly reckless. Healing Brienna was... unusual for me. But perhaps a long time coming." He shrugs. "Good luck out there, my friend. Be safe." He offers a hand to Andakos, then strides away, looking for all the world like a much younger man. Which, Andakos realizes, he actually is; he can't be older than his mid-thirties. Yet he always had an agedness to him, a wisdom born of pain. Much was clearly already weighing on him when Andakos met him only a few weeks ago. Much that doesn't seem to weigh so heavily now.

At her son's request, Alecta blinks. "What?... Oh! Yes. Here. Sorry." She hurries back to a large footlocker at the foot of the bed, an ostentatious beast of pure darkwood trimmed in mithral and etched with murals of scales traced with actual gold. Andakos already has his spear--it was leaning against the wall next to his bed--but the rest of his gear is neatly folded and packed into the locker. It only takes a few minutes to dress himself and prepare his professional tools.

I'd say a week of death is more than enough 'rest' to get your slots back! Also, you're at full HP. Part of the benefit of getting a resurrection instead of raise dead.

Once ready, the two exit the Bank of Abadar with all the speed decorum allows (Alecta refuses to run pell-mell out of the building, but certainly doesn't dawdle either). His mother calls for a coach, and within a few minutes, one pulls up and the driver opens the door for them to enter.

The streets of Korvosa are muted. If Andakos thought the bustle which he is so used to seeing might make a return now the plague is dealt with, he would be mistaken; open-stall vendors have vanished, and the shops, while open, look gloomy and ill-kept. People do not walk the streets alone, but in small clusters huddled together, each group eyeing the other suspiciously as they hurry from one place to the next. The occasional busker can be seen on a street corner, but no one stops to hear them play, or to toss coins in their hats or instrument cases. Half of them aren't even playing, just staring morosely down the streets.

Every so often, a patrol of Gray Maidens stride down the sidewalk, their closed helms turning to watch every single person who passes them. Each patrol watches the coach trundle down the cobbled streets with obvious interest, but thankfully, they do not stop the coach to interrogate its passengers. After the second patrol, Alecta yanks the small velvet curtains shut on either side, shivering despite herself.

After what feels like an eternity, the coach finally draws to a stop at the wrought-iron gates of House Viden. The pair hustle up the front steps, but Alecta freezes before reaching for the door. It's not hard to see why.

The door has clearly been forced open with a savage blow, and now hangs cracked and ajar.

WDYD?

extracts: 1d4 ⇒ 1 LOL yep

Before leaving the Bank of Abadar, Andakos can tell that his mother will tolerate no significant delays, but he does take a single minute to mix a shield extract. His run-in with Andaisin has left him feeling vulnerable.

---

Outside the manor, Andakos quickly downs the shield extract, suddenly wishing he had insisted on more time to be fully prepared. He has an idea for a long-lasting elixir that could make him a much more formidable fighter... but never mind. That doesn't help right now.

He holds out his hand to his mother. "Stay here." Then he heads through the ruined doorway, spear first, trying to move as quietly as he can.

stealth + insp: 1d20 + 7 + 1d6 ⇒ (15) + 7 + (1) = 23
perception: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (18) + 16 = 34 +4 traps