Tyrant's Grasp III: Last Watch

Game Master CrusaderWolf

Garmid sets his jaw and raises his chin in defiance of the barrage of suspicious questions. "I want the same thing you want: to return to the world of the living to set right wrongs. For what feels like an eternity I have hidden in the mists from the keepers of the Boneyard, and now the gods have finally sent a boon--you!" The phantom kneels in front of Sanduro. "I'll be the first to admit that I'm a proud man, but I'm not to proud to beg. Please, heroes, take me with you! Bind me you, young man, and my sword is yours!" His expression is desperately earnest and his eyes are fever-bright as he reaches for Sanduro's hands.

Startled, Sanduro steps back reflexively from Garmid, but when he speaks, his voice is filled with sympathy.

"Garmid, sir, I..."

The duskwalker is interrupted when Zsofia shoves him - hard - behind her.

Zsofia snarls and angrily shoves Sanduro behind her. She bends down and jabs a finger into the upturned face of other phantom.

"NO! You can crawl on your knees all you like, worm, but you don't get to talk to him, and sure as there are devils in Hell you don't get to ask him to bind himself to YOU! He is bound to ME and I am bound to HIM and there ain't room enough in his head for anyone but US! So you can just GET OUT OF OUR SIGHT RIGHT NOW BEFORE I REACH INTO YOUR MOUTH AND SEND YOU TO YOUR JUDGMENT WITHOUT A TONGUE!"

Hoping that's a Bluff check because Zsofia can't really rip his tongue out of his head with her bare hands? If it should be Intimidate, modifier is +2.
Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13

Jealousy phantom's gonna get jelly.

Entirely out of his element, Wallace maintains his position, waiting for a cue from Sanduro. "Is anyone able to guide these spirits?" he asks. "I don't mean that in a way to diminish your skills and efforts Sanduro, but is it something anyone could learn?" Someone with first hand experience of the Shining Crusade would be a good ally, not to mention a font of knowledge and lore!

Still wincing from Zsofia's push, Sanduro takes another step away from Garmid and gives Wallace a faint smile. "Learn?" he murmurs. "I suppose so, but I don't know that I'm the one to teach you. Zsofia and me, we connected by accident. We're still figuring out how this thing we have works. If you want to help this lost soul find his rest, I'll do what I can to show you how it's done, but you should think about what he was doing when we arrived - are you sure you'd want him living in your head?"

Turning back to the phantoms, the druid says, "Thank you, Garmid, but Zsofia is right." He raises a hand and taps himself on the forehead. "It's really quite crowded in there already. And even if another voice in my head wouldn't drive me mad, I made Zsofia a promise. Until we take care of her unfinished business, it would not be fair to her to take on someone else's."

Satisfied that the negotiations are well underway and, whatever else goes on, this Garmid phantom is willing to release the people of Roslar's Coffer to continue their journey to their eternal reward, Garret moves off to go find his own parents--to apologize to them for not saving their lives, to grieve with them, and to say goodbye.

"As I think about it, Wallace, perhaps Garmid's abilities would be a good fit with your own. He may be a bit overzealous at times, but he can fight like Zsofia does, and as we saw, his enthusiasm can be infectious. That might be helpful if -" Sanduro looks uncomfortable - "we need to fight our way out of the Boneyard to get back home. So if you want to think about it, I'll help you if I can. I'm sure Zsofia will too, won't you, Zsofia?"

The late bandit queen snarls again, but slowly pulls her finger away from Garmid's face. "As long as he doesn't try to play in my sandbox, sure, that's fine. I still think his mustache is weak, though."

Zsofia turns away from the kneeling warrior and saunters over to stand next to Sanduro. She folds her arms and turns back to smirk at Garmid.

"I'm willing to try it, if you will do me the honor, Sir," Wallace says seriously. "A Hero of the Shining Crusade shouldn't have to beg or resort to... whatever that was with the townsfolk. I will do what I can to put you to your rightful rest, with the Inheritor as my witness!" he promises, raising his holy symbol above his head.

"Thank you, Sanduro. You as well, Zsofia. I wasn't sure what to think of your relationship, but the more I see it, the more I'm inspired to help wayward spirits as well. Everyone deserves their rightful rest."

"A Hero of the Shining Crusade shouldn't have to beg or resort to... whatever that was with the townsfolk. I will do what I can to put you to your rightful rest, with the Inheritor as my witness!"

Garmid sneers at Zsofia's jibes, but has the grace to look ashamed at Wallace's gently scolding and bows his head. "I cannot tell you how much this means, Sir Lundgren. I have waiting long and longer for a chance like this--" a sword materializes in the phantom's hands, and he holds it up flat in presentation to Wallace. "--and I vow that I shall be the faithful blade at your side, the stalwart shield at your back, and your faithful comrade through whatever darkness may cross our path. This I solemnly swear by Arazni, may Aroden rest her blessed soul."

Sanduro gives Zsofia a sidelong glance. She snorts without looking at him, and says, "Don't even think about it, boyo. I fight 'cause I like hitting people, and even when I was alive, I don't think I was the kind of person who swears blood oaths to anyone from my knees."

A few minutes later, a disheveled Ketra returns to the party. Her eyes are swollen and red, a drip of snot rolls out of her nose before she wipes it away with her sleeve. Still, she puts a hand on her hip and raises an eyebrow at Wallace. "What's this Wallace, you pick up an admirer?" Her determined attempt at jauntiness sounds a little unsteady as she starts, but evens out as she adds "I step away for five minutes and it gets hot and heavy."

Feeling a mixture of confusion and relief, Silvia backs off from the strange encounter with Garmid and relaxes her posture. She turns her attention to Ketra upon her return to the group, mouthing the words "You okay?"

"Rise, Sir Tharmethion," Wallace responds, offering a hand. "By the grace of our Patrons and the strength of our faith, nothing shall keep us from our duty." I'm not destined to be a Paladin, but even I can do something to further the cause of the righteous!

Satisfied, he registers Ketra's comment. I think she'd say something different if she wanted to talk about whatever just happened to her. I'll leave her with her dignity. "Sanduro and Zsofia's bond have inspired me to a higher calling," he explains. "Sir Tharmethion is a Hero of the Shining Crusade. Together, we will do what we must to grant his spirit the rest he has earned in life," he says, proudly.

"Now then, shall we liaise with Umble and Thoot before the Flower Lady arrives?"

"Hey shield-shiner, if you're picking up strays is there any chance I could--ow!" Octavious turns and glares at Mayor Grive, who glares back as she rubs the elbow she just jabbed him with. "I was joking, your Mayorship." the Gorumite grumbles.

longer post coming after work, if you're agreed on going to get Umble & Thoot

Ketra hesitates at Silvia's question, then murmurs "I'll get there. What about you?"

As for Wallace, she keeps that eyebrow raised. "A hero of the Shining Crusade that gets his rocks off using weird magic to hypnotize the recently deceased?" She faces Garmid "Wallace is a good guy, so don't go taking advantage of him now. And I hope we don't see you playing this game of yours with any of the townsfolk again."

She nods to Wallace's suggestion. "And... can you all keep an eye out? I just learned my sis, Darcy, no one's seen her yet. I'm hoping she somehow survived, but if she's here we've got to find her."

At the mention of Ketra's missing sister, Sanduro looks around and realizes that she isn't in the square with most of the rest of the town.

"Darcy is pretty hard to miss. Garmid, have you seen a young woman, tall and strong, with some orc blood, anywhere among the townspeople?"

"'Shield-shiner?' Hey, priest, that was actually funny. Didn't think you had it in you. OK, Wallace, I think I'll call you 'Sir Shield-Shiner' from now on."

Zsofia chuckles, muttering "Sir Shield-Shiner" to herself and shaking her head.

When Ketra says Darcy is missing, though, the phantom stops laughing. "Darcy's the big one, right? I like her - a gal after my own heart. What are we waiting for? Let's go find her!"

Garret is seen having a quiet conversation some distance away with what looks to be a middle-aged halfling couple. Even from this distance, his sadness is clear in his body language.

"Darcy is pretty hard to miss. Garmid, have you seen a young woman, tall and strong, with some orc blood, anywhere among the townspeople?"

Frowning as he considers the question, Garmid slowly shakes his head. "I recall seeing no one matching that description here, my apologies."

"Wallace is a good guy, so don't go taking advantage of him now. And I hope we don't see you playing this game of yours with any of the townsfolk again."

Garmid raises his chin, pride, resentment, and shame warring on his face. "I'll not defend what I did, save to say that desperation makes animals of us all. I shall try to help put this right, however." Walking back to Councilor Arbella Tharmethion, Garmid speaks quietly with here before hopping back atop his crate to address the crown.

"Good people of Roslar's Coffer, I must confess to you a grave error--I have done wrong by you, and misled you. For that no apology is sufficient, but you deserve the truth. This is indeed the Boneyard, and you have indeed passed on..."

As the phantom continues his address to the crowd of petitioners, Mayor Grive shakes each of your hands with both of hers. "I cannot express how much your help means to us. After the, um, psychopomps come, please promise me something: that you will remember us after we've gone, and that you will make sure whatever happened to us doesn't happen to anyone else."

"I swear it," Wallace responds. "Not even my own final rest will keep me from it." How does one become a 'phantom' anyways? They're Petitioners, but not... most peculiar. I'll have to study up on it, or, better yet, find someone who knows!

Pleased with the latest turn of events, he stands ready to find Umble and Thoot once the others have had their chance to navigate the crowd.

Ketra watches Garmid carefully as he goes to orate once more, ready to jump in if there's any sign of tomfoolery. When he delivers a surprisingly humble apology instead and some good direction to the townsfolk, she relaxes. Elbowing Wallace she whispers "Maybe he's not so bad after all? Or maybe he's just on his best behavior to get out of here."

She nods to the Mayor "You wouldn't be able to convince me to forget you, or anyone else in the town. I'll be thinking about you all. And we'll find out what happened. Don't you worry."

She joins the others and with a hesitant wave to the townspeople, starts heading in search of Umble and Thoot.

Ketra hesitates at Silvia's question, then murmurs "I'll get there. What about you?"

Silvia shakes her head, shrugs, and gives a wan smile. "We'll see."

As the phantom continues his address to the crowd of petitioners, Mayor Grive shakes each of your hands with both of hers. "I cannot express how much your help means to us. After the, um, psychopomps come, please promise me something: that you will remember us after we've gone, and that you will make sure whatever happened to us doesn't happen to anyone else."

Silvia grips Mayor Grive's hands tightly, and some fire returns to her eyes. "Whoever did this to us, we'll find them. And they'll pay. This will never happen again."

As you make your farewells and walk out to the edge of the Roslar's Coffer echo, the banks of mist loom up like a wall. The world goes back to that same eerie silence you noticed outside the tomb when you first realized where you were.

"Psst!" Umble's head pokes out of the mist, gemstone eyes glinting faintly in the light of Groetus. "You have returned, this is most fortutimous! We saw Duskfeather flip-flapping about, we verily hope that Mictena is not here already!" More of the nosoi emerges from the mist, the little psychopomp perched on the end of Thoot's scythe as the vanth steps silently into view.

"Thoot and I were ruminitating...were you able to talk sense into your dearly departed? We should ever so much like to start helping them and not get demoted..."

Thoot points wordlessly at Garmid, and Umble turns and examines the phantom with clear puzzlement. "Oh, hello! ...You're not one of ours?"

Ketra nods "I think so. The townsfolk at least are in the process of accepting things right now. I'm more worried about the kids though. That Mictena had them separated from their parents and playing with some tree." Thinking back to that encounter, she asks "What's her game here, anyway? She talked to us through that crow of hers. Said that we were supposed to be dead and she would 'fix' us once she got here."

She flares her nostrils "I assume that means separating us from our bodies. Can she really do that?"

A subdued Garret rejoins his friends as they move towards the mist wall.

"Oh Mictena, she--!" Umble's voice is shrill with agitation, but Umble pits a finger up against their beak in a shushing gesture and the nosoi pauses, visibly composing herself.

"Mictena is the administrator for this stretch of the Dead Roads. Where you live, do they have--what is the word? Quadra? Ādālata? Courts?" Thoots nods vigorously at the Taldane word and Umble gives a pleased trill. "Courts! Well, Mictena is the Judge around here, and she is, um, good at her job, but...very unflexitous. She does not do the "compromise" thing very well. She didn't say anything about us, did she?"

Garret looks up with a sad expression and mumbles in response to Umble, "Yes, she is coming to deal with us personally--sounds like she plans to kill us." Suddenly realizing what he just said, the distracted sorcerer adds, "Why don't we get these people on their way and leave before the judge comes to...sentence us?"

"She did, but only threatened to have a long talk with you. She seemed...angrier...with you, which is strange to say, considering she wants to kill us."

Wallace frowns. She's the rightful law of this land, but I think we've reason to believe that she isn't acting in good faith here. Answering an anomaly so rashly warrants some push back from us.

He sighs. "I like Garret's idea. With the people accepting their deaths, can we usher them on and be gone? I'd rather not face off against the Judge here, but I think her sentencing is a little abrupt, considering the circumstances."

"She's going to kill you?! That seems very extremerific! Other than your hearts being all glowy you seem very vitalutinous to us...um." Umble looks up at Thoot, who sighs--the first audible sound you've heard the vanth make--and slowly nods. Umble turns back to your group.

"We probably oughtn't do this, since we are already on metaphoricful thin ice, but you have been so nice and helpful we feel we must. There is a small ritual that can be done to give you limited access to the Dead Roads--they lead you right back to the living lands, that's how we get there!" Umble sweeps her wings out wide, as though to suggest 'we' includes the psychopomps as a whole. "You can't really hide from Mictena there for long, but you can make it harder for her to find you if you stay on the move..."

"Garmid? No, not one of yours - he's with us, like Zsofia is."

Sanduro shudders at the psychopomp's warning. "Do you mean that Mictena would follow us all the way into the living world? Not that it wouldn't be better than waiting her and letting her kill us now, but I don't like the thought of being hunted by a judge of the Boneyard for the rest of my days. Is there any way to keep her from tracking us after we leave the Dead Roads for home?"

"Into the living lands? Oh no, she has no jurisdiction there!" Umble seems genuinely aghast at the thought. "She can still find you out on the Dead Roads though, but if you keep moving it'll be harder. Maybe you get get out of her domain without getting caught? It won't be easy though."

“Like most things involving psychopomps, the Dead Roads rely on a complex bureaucracy. They’re maintained by Barzahk the Passage to allow us to come and go, but creatures of... of non-psychopompological nature need authorization to prevent abuse. Specially appointed bureaucrats control way stations along the routes, and can offer a stamp on your body to pass freely. Without a stamp of passage, beings tend to, oh… ‘slide off’ the Dead Roads and land back where they started—usually. We never did locate more than a few fingers from that one poor waywardarian Keleshite who found his way in. The Dead Roads can sometimes be dangerous.”

“Thoot and I did a little digging while you were gone, and this is what we could find out: the route to Roslar’s Coffer passes three way stations: the Palace of Teeth, a manor called Nine-Eaves, and Salighara’s Scriptorium. You’ll need to stop at all three to make your pilgrimage back to Lastwall. Each way station master will probably charge for passage. Given your seemingly dire pauparian circumstances, I assume they’ll trade services. I hope.”

This dialogue is so wonderfully goofy!

With so many proper nouns being thrown around, compounded with the way that Umble talks, Ketra puts a hand up to pause the excitable creature. "OK, let me get this straight. Mictena absolutely can make us dead, and we can't count on being able to talk her out of it. If we want to get back to Lastwall, we have to travel to some place called the Dead Roads. Lovely name by the way. Very on theme. Are they close?"

"And once we're on the Dead Roads, we have to pay some other psychopomps for the right to stay on the Road? We keep going and somehow that leaves us back in the living world? If that's our only way back, than we have to take it, but..." She crosses her arms "I have so many questions."

"Can we count on these waystation watchers to honor anything? Are they likely to turn us in to Mictena, or someone else? After all, we're not supposed to be here."

"Where do we go to get into the Dead Roads?" She waves a hand at all the mist, then raises it to offer a platform for Verun to land on "Unless Verun's got some kind of instinct for navigating here, I think I'd be lost before I took twenty steps." She looks over at Verun.

"And lastly, do either of you know if my sister traveled to the Boneyard with everyone else? She's a half orc. Called Darce, I mean, Darcy."

"It's a chance," Wallace admits. Although a slim one for sure. A lot of moving targets here. "Do you think sharing our plight will help or hurt us at these waystations? What can you tell us about the masters of each one?" he adds to the list of questions.

Garret adds another question to the mix, asking, "Exactly what do you mean by our hearts being 'all glowy'? What do you see, and what does it mean?"

"OK, let me get this straight. Mictena absolutely can make us dead, and we can't count on being able to talk her out of it. If we want to get back to Lastwall, we have to travel to some place called the Dead Roads. Lovely name by the way. Very on theme. Are they close?"

Verun gives a little trill and flutters about Ketra's head. Close, close, yes! All around, in the mist and through, easy to see!

"Can we count on these waystation watchers to honor anything? Are they likely to turn us in to Mictena, or someone else? After all, we're not supposed to be here."

"Do you think sharing our plight will help or hurt us at these waystations? What can you tell us about the masters of each one?"

Umble gives a small, self-conscious shrug. "Those who run the waystations serve at their Judge's pleasure, but removing them is supposed to be irritating and difficult--enough so that it is rarely done. That gives the waystation keepers a lot of leeway, and Mictena is particularly hands-on with her work so her keepers don't have much oversight either. If they thought Mictena cared enough to punish them for helping you they might not be very friendly though..."

At Wallace's question Umble thinks for moment. "Hmmm...well the Palace of Teeth is the closest waystation. It's a small castle constructed by... I say, Thoot, who constructed it? I’ve no idea, actually. Its current occupants are malicious little pixies who collect teeth. Rather pesky, but through about their work. They are vigorous about hunting down any undead that wander in and taking any as trophies, so I imagine they’ll accept a few teeth in trade.”

“As for Nine-Eaves: it’s quite the gloom-encrusted manor, not to my taste at all! An elderly shoki psychopomp named Kishokish serves as its keeper, ruminating on all manner of confabulations. Reclusive and a bit annoying, he has a fondness for puzzles and games. He’ll almost certainly demand some battle of wits before granting his stamp, as he’s a depressing fellow. Humor him.”

The last of the waystations is Salighara’s Scriptorium. Salighara is a viduus psychopomp, and not a gregarious one. She likes the privacy the Dead Roads offer and oversees several scribes performing menial copying tasks for the Boneyard bureaucracy. I’ve attended one of her pompatious lectures on a prior encounter, and I don’t need to tell you, they are sanctimonious and redundant in the extreme. How a psychopomp could be so full of herself is quite beyond me! If Salighara wants labor in exchange for her stamp, it will likely be exceedingly dull to perform. You have my apologies in advance!”

"Exactly what do you mean by our hearts being 'all glowy'? What do you see, and what does it mean?"

"Dunno, it's very mysteriological. Except for your phantoms and little Verun there, you've all got glowy hearts! Thoot and I have never seen anything like it! How exciting for you!"

Knowledge (planes): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25

Sanduro looks thoughtful as Umble describes their way back to the living world. "I think the Dead Roads are not actually roads, for the most part - although they may be in some parts. Umble, you and Thoot and other, um, psychopompological beings might be able to see them, but how will we know where we're going? If we get lost, we could literally end up anywhere, anywhen, in any plane of existence." The druid turns to Ketra's nosoi. "Would you be able to keep us on the right path home, Verun?"

"Dunno, it's very mysteriological. Except for your phantoms and little Verun there, you've all got glowy hearts! Thoot and I have never seen anything like it! How exciting for you!"

Zsofia's expression clouds. "What do mean, 'except for your phantoms'? Are you saying I don't have a glowy heart? Why don't I have a glowy heart?"

Knowledge Planes: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

"Right, the dead roads," says Garret. Looking intently at the psychopomp, he asks, "Umble, can you promise me to get the people of Roslar's Coffer to their eternal reward? Then we can move on to the dead roads and get back to the world of the living, where maybe we can pursue those responsible for this mass murder."

The Palace of Teeth...

The very name sends a shudder of horror down Silvia's spine. Several times during the ensuing conversation, she opens her mouth to ask the psychopomps a question, but each time finds herself preempted by someone else asking it for her. Irrationally, she finds herself annoyed but quashes it. Got to be quicker on the draw, is all.

Finally, something occurs to her that hasn't been asked yet. "How do we know when to leave the Dead Roads? Will we just turn a corner and boom, there's Roslar's Coffer?"

Any response from the two regarding Darcy?

"Hey, don't take it personally, but those places sound horrible. Except for maybe the manor. But even then, I can only imagine a psychopomp's idea of a fun puzzle and mine aren't much alike." Ketra shrugs "I guess we don't have a choice though."

She nods at Garret's question "Is Mictena going to treat the townsfolk okay?"

Oh no, I did miss a question! I'll make sure to get to Darcy in my post later today!

At the mention of Darcy, Thoot and Umble look at one another, though Thoot merely shrugs and shakes her head. "We have not seen anyone matching that description, we regret to say," Umble says, looking a little worried. "In our experience, the most likely explanations are that she didn't die--or, um, didn't...move on." Umble swallows audibly, then continues in a forced cheerful tone. "Perhaps she will turn up with a glowy heart too! We've never seen that before so, and anything that can happen once can happen repetitiously!"

"Umble, can you promise me to get the people of Roslar's Coffer to their eternal reward?"

Umble nods her head vigorously. "Oh yes, most assurendipitously yes! We will make sure each and every one of them is well taken care of until the Courts send them to their final rewards. So will Mictena, when she arrives--she can be stubborn and self-important, and she thinks you should be dead which may understandably color your impressions of her, but she is devoted to her duty. Thoot and I will try to delay her here, um, in a way that doesn't make us look like bumble-fools!" The nosoi pauses, surveying you all again.

“Well then, yes, I suppose we are prepared. The ritual is quite simple, but I must ask you not to pay too close attention, as we’re not technically empowered to perform this bit of extrajurisdictational transposition!" Umble extends one wing, from which Thoot plucks a single black feather. Stepping closer to you, the vanth gently brushes the feather across the forehead of each of you in turn, then swirls the feather through the think bank of mist. As though blown aside by unfelt winds, the mists roil and swirl and part before you to reveal the weathered grey cobblestones of an ancient roadway.

"Good luck," Umble bids you as you say your farewells. "You might, um, see things out there. Mortals often do. The Roads know, they say."

"Umble, Thoot, thank you for your service to the dead of Roslar's Coffer and your aid to us. Fare well," says the somber-looking halfling as he takes one last look back into the crowd, sighs, and steps onto the road ahead.

Wait, what? I thought “Dead Roads” was a metaphor! Sanduro stares unmoving at the cobblestone path until Zsofia shoves him from behind. He starts walking, but turns and calls back over his shoulder at the mist-shrouded forms of Thoot and Umble.

“What kinds of things? What do the Roads know?”

He stumbles when Zsofia shoves him again, and continues on near the rear of the group.

Not sure whether to the dismayed or bolstered by the answer regarding Darcy, Ketra is quiet up until Umble offers his farewells. At that point Ketra gives the two of them a grin "Well, thank you! You're the only nice people we've seen here, barring our own friends and family. You definitely, uh, livened our hopefully brief stay in the Boneyard. I hope that you'll get all the weird afterlife promotions you're dreaming of!"

She takes a step onto the Road and nods to Verun as well. "Of course, Verun, you too. Hearing you talk has been all kinds of wonderful. I hope we'll get along from here on."