Anilda beams, or at least, the paint squiggle of her mouth curls upwards. "Thank you. I'll take such good care of them!"
With another puppet-like spin, the maid uniform ruffling slightly with the motion, the human-sized doll twirls away from Hannelia... not that Hannelia can see it.
"Oh! What lovely colors you see! These are very nice eyes! Why, I could see every little speck of dirt with these. How nice. Oop, cobwebs..."
For the rest of you, you can easily see that Anilda has turned to poke her broom into the room's high reaches and is industriously cleaning away.
"Now if only someone would feed the baby! Or tell a story to make the work go faster!"
The effects of Anilda’s magic renders Hannelia unable to see but the joy in the fey’s voice and the fact she was clearly sincere in her wish keeps any creeping fear from rising in her belly. Instead she can’t help but feel a bit sorry for the nuffekeen, as well as slightly embarrassed for not realising that her motivation came from not being able to see well… or at all? ”Can one of you guide me to a chair please? While Anilda has use of my eyes, I don’t,” she explains, before leaving it to one of the others to pick up the remaining threads.
As Hannelia actually agrees to the terrifying bargain, Roger breaks into a choking cough from the sheer surprise of it. By the time Hannelia makes her request in result, he's recovered to some degree but is still red in the face.
"For the sake of all that's good in this world, take some care for yourself, lass! Yer ten leagues bravery than I thought but..." He guides her to a chair.
Then he faces the others, his hat swept off his head and held close in trembling hands. "All my life I've never been one to shy from telling tales, but now when it's really needed... Aye, it's too much for me lads. I'll try if I must but with Hanna's eyes at stake."
”Thank you, Roger,” Hannelia says gratefully as he guides her to a seat. She takes on board his words which seem to be part impressed, part gentle chiding. ”I don’t really know what came over me,” she whispers to him. ”That was weirdly reckless of me, I think I just got carried away and realised I didn’t know how to extract myself from the situation. It was quite intense. I mean, it still is really,” she adds wryly.
From the moment they enter the room, Emma finds herself feeling uneasy.
Her hand drops to her sword, and throughout the series of events that take place before her, her hand never loosens it's grip upon the hilt. She has no idea what this thing may be - she's just certain it's not human.
There's something off about it, even if she couldn't quite exactly say what it is. She's somewhat relieved that there doesn't seem to be a baby in the room - though the jury is still out on whether there is a baby somewhere else nearby.
She'd never had much experience with child raising or care. Most of her time when she was younger had been spent exploring the woods, and then, when she was older, training with her mother and the other soldiers at the fort. Babies were...delicate. Emma did not consider herself skilled with delicate things.
When the thing asks Hannelia for her eyes, Emma is completely certain that Hannelia will say no. She cocks her head slightly at the thing, trying to figure out - what does it want? What is it trying to get us to do here?
But in the end, she's just not sure. It hasn't attacked them outright, not yet, but that doesn't mean it isn't planning to. Not every evil thing in the world will attack. Depending on what it is, it may not even consider what it does to be evil at all.
Still, when Hannelia does in fact let the thing borrow her eyes, and ends up becoming blind...
Emma almost draws steel right then and there. What in the abyss had Hannelia been thinking?!
But no - she manages to restrain herself, though her grip tightens on her swords hilt. Better not to attack this thing while it has Hannelia's eyes. No telling what could happen - and the last thing she wants is for her friend to become permanently blind.
"That was very nice of you Hannelia," she finally says.
And it's true - Hannelia was, at her core, a nice person. But Iomedae preserve her, she wanted to take her and shake her and demand to know what had possessed her to do that.
"I hope you appreciate her kindness," Emma continues, addressing the thing pretending to be a woman. "And take care with her eyes."
She digs around in her back and takes out a bit of bread. "Now, you mentioned a...baby that needs feeding? I have some bread. Would that do?"
Truth be told, Emma is almost certain that whatever this thing wants her to feed is not going to be human. But, better to find out than end up being surprised by it.
And by this point, it has already been a long day. Between the revelations, the conflicts between the party members, and the likely fights still ahead, Emma's patience is beginning to wear thin.
"And before you answer about the baby, allow me to say this - you will return my friends eyes to her. That's not a request, by the way. You will do so, or you will not end up liking what happens as a result. I promise you that." Emma gives a tight smile to the creature, pointedly keeping a hand firmly grasped around the hilt of her sword. "I trust I make myself clear."
Emma considers laying down a threat, but briefly considers the whisperings of Iomedae as she observes the creature for some sign of evil..... there isn't any. Though the situation makes Emma grind her teeth, she decides to hold onto the threat for should the creature display any reluctance to return Hannelia's eyesight.
Anilda herself is humming cheerfully as she cleans the cobwebs from the high corners. "Bread? Meat would probably be better for the baby! I usually cut it up small with my scissors, it's easier for Baby that way. He's just through there, in his cradle...." she says, gesturing with her scissors at the other doorway.
"Of course I'll take good care of her eyes! I'm very tidy! I clean everything up so nicely!" Anilda responds to Emma, sounding slightly offended that she might be careless with Hannelia's eyesight.
Constantine, silent until now, clears his throat. "And you say you want... a story? Of this place? As it turns out, we learned quite a bit about this house before coming here... Some of the stories are a bit sad, however."
"Oh, the best ones always are," Anilda responds.
"Hmn. Well.... there was a little boy who lived here once..." Constantine begins, his hand going to rest on his pack with the book you found in the crypt still rests. He tells the story as best he can, with what you know, about the boy, Luca.
Meanwhile, Emma steels herself for whatever.... feeding the baby entails. With some jerky from her trail rations, she moves gingerly past the doll-woman and into the northern room, braced for a possible ambush. But nothing attacks her. The room appears to be a nursery-- faded paintings on the walls depict fanciful images of dragons, unicorns, and wildlife, done in a non-threatening style. Some quite ancient animals made of fabric and batting sit on a shelf, dusty now but with signs of recent attempted cleaning. The music box lullaby is louder here, a little ditty that rises and falls from a small ornate box near the lightly-rocking cradle.
As for the cradle itself.... Emma edges cautiously to peer inside.
Oh. Yes. That's a lot of legs. A lot of squirming, writhing little legs.
An immature version of the centipedes you've been fighting is wiggling in the crib, its lower half carefully swaddled in blankets that seem to be keeping it from managing to escape the crib's embrace. Harmless enough, if disgusting-- the mandibles not yet formed, the carapace still soft. A circular gaping mouth opens and shuts. The legs twitch.
"Isn't he precious?" Anilda coos from the other room. "So active! I know he's a handful, but I love him as if he were my own!"
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Sirio freezes in incredulity as Hannelia gives the creature her eyes.
He takes a few deep breaths and keeps himself from exploding. It would do more harm than good at this point to offend the fey.
His hand brushes against the hilt of his Morningstar, then recoils quickly. His weapon is cold iron. Deeply offensive. He covers it with his cloak.
He smiles extremely politely, not lingering and scuttles over to the crib. He gasps, hopefully quietly, and leans over to Emma.
"Do you have a plan?" he whispers.
Turning toward Anilda, he gulps, "Beautiful child. One... could see why you dote over him so much."
"What in the Abyss. We need to get Hannelia her eyes back and then get out of here swiftly. Feed the godforsaken thing, and see what she says."
Emma lets out a snort. "Plans? A few. Just no good ones. Mostly ones that involve stabbing this thing here and now. Or maybe just burning this entire place down. It'd be nice if we had an alchemist of some kind with us to feed this thing poison. But, since that thing has Hannelia's eyes..."
Emma lets out a breath, her hand still curled around the hilt of her sword.
"I hate this house. Next time, we listen to the damn pirate!" she whispers fervently.
She looks down at the baby centipede, her lip curling in disgust.
"Look, just...I'll try feeding the damn thing. If anything happens to either it or me, be ready to do...something."
Emma shakes her head. Not much of a plan, but given the situation, she's not really sure what else to do.
She grabs a bit of jerky, lets out a sigh, and feeds it to the centipede.
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Shoving shreds of meat into the voracious maw of the centipede larva is a task that Emma never anticipated in paladin training, to say the least. The Acts of Iomedae did not include a chapter on this. When the little insectile horror gapes for the bits of meat, the smell nearly makes Emma reel... but, perhaps determined not to lose her breakfast in front of Sirio, she stoically manages to finish the job.
Anilda, meanwhile, has been making dutifully appreciative noises to Constantine's story, occasionally gasping, or wiping at her eyes (though they don't seem to actually water), or going, "Oh that's so sad! I wonder if the nursery was for that little boy originally?"
"Probably not," Constantine has to admit. "He was an older child when he came here."
"Well, no doubt they wanted a baby of their own! Baby in there isn't really mine," Anilda sighs, sweeping the last cobwebs from a corner. "I suppose he's.... hmn.... well I suppose he's technically Mister Wormgnash's but--"
She looks left, then right, and lowers her voice to a dramatic whisper. "But I don't think he's a very good daddy. He doesn't sing to them, or rock them, or anything, and all he feeds the babies is that icky yucky blechy purple stuff. I don't like it! It's very messy. And it makes the babies so mean! That's why I-- well-- took Baby, and cleaned Baby all up, and now he's mine and he gets nice food and not the yucky stuff! If the parents don't come that means I get to keep him, don't you think? If they loved him they'd come for him...."
Anilda trails off sadly, desultorily clicking her scissors a few times, but summons a little smile when Sirio and Emma come back into the room. Sirio praised her adorable baby! Of course she's happy!
"Oh good, he's fed! Maybe he'll sleep for a bit, now. He is SO squirmy! If I didn't bundle him up so good he'd wiggle right out and be across the floor, just like that--" She does three quick, sharp snips of the air with the scissors.
"Anyway, thank you for feeding him. And for the story and everything, it was lovely! I suppose," she sighs, "you'll be wanting your eyes back now..... they really were nice... I cleaned them for you, though, they're nice and polished right now!"
Somewhat reluctantly, Anilda blinks several times, and Hannelia's vision is restored. In fact, it even seems sharper than before.
"You were all very nice," Anilda says wistfully. "I suppose I should get back to my work though, if there's nothing else?"
Being without her sight is a weird situation and Hannelia focuses her attention more than usual, trying to pick through the words to infer meaning and fill in the gaps. As she listens to Anilda talk, Hannelia's heart once more goes out to the poor creature, clearly trying to make her way and desperate for something to look after and love. Yet something about the way she describes the baby gives her a feeling that something about this particular baby is not as she first imagined it. I suppose I'll literally see for myself sooner or later, she muses, when I get control of my eyes back.
She can tell this was perhaps not a wise move, and the others' words and tone suggests they think so too, and are a little annoyed at her for doing it. They're probably not wrong to be, though I could sense no harm in her, just a lot of sadness and a touch of madness. And it has made her genuinely happy so I can't fault myself for that. But it was a risk, and a big and probably unnecessary one - since when do I behave recklessly like this? She thinks of Constantine's wild charge after the mite, not so long ago. Maybe there's something in the atmosphere of this place that's getting to us all. Realising her thoughts are running away with her and that she's not focusing properly on the conversation - or more accurately, Anilda's monologue - she parks the thought for the moment.
At the nuffekeen's promise to return her vision, Hannelia can feel herself blink involuntarily a few times and finds she can once again see. She blinks some more, getting used to the sudden switch, before rising from her seat. "Thank you, Anilda,"" she says, reaching out towards the fey to lay a hand on her forearm, though she is still mindful of the clicking scissors. "You took great care of them and I can tell you enjoying using them. I'm very grateful for you giving them a polish too, they feel even better than they did before." She pauses, letting her heartfelt thanks sink in before asking for some information in return for the favours the party have done her.
"You must have got to know the house very well in order to keep it so clean," she says, "can you tell us about anything we should be careful of that might hurt? We know that the people who used to live here liked building interesting devices so if there's anything dangerous then we can hopefully remove the hazard, which will help keep you and baby safe."
"Also, if you're able to tell us which room is Mister Wormgnash's, and a bit about him - what he looks like, what he's like as a person - that would be really kind." She's certain they all know what the 'icky yucky blechy purple stuff' is but any information about the man potentially at the root of it would definitely be well received.
"Oh, you're welcome!! And I know most of the house! I don't go down in the cellar. It's icky down there and Mister Wormgnash doesn't let me clean up the mess," Anilda says with a little moue of distaste. She props her broom in a corner, apparently satisfied with a victory over the cobwebs, and sits jerkily down on the old bunk bed, fiddling with her scissors and the hem of her dress.
She starts to cut a little scalloped pattern into the bottom hem as she talks. "On this floor we have the nursery, of course! And this room, the servants' quarters, and then the big fancy bathroom. There's also the master bedroom, and a door in there that's locked, I don't know where that goes. In the master bedroom you should be careful of the snake! The Sarinis didn't like dirty little thieves, ohno," Anilda giggles. "And there's another bedroom. A guest room, I think. There's nothing really special about it but the view is pretty...
"Downstairs, there's the entry hall, and the drawing room with the sad little dead maid, and the ballroom, the kitchen, the dining room, and the breakfast room. I've tried to tidy them up but the little ghost girl throws things at me in the drawing room so I got tired of trying to fix it! You'd think she'd be glad I was tidying! But no. And the entry hall is a mess but Mister Wormgnash said I should leave it alone in case anyone peeked in. Oh and there's a big locked room but I don't know what's in there," Anilda chatters on blithely-- you are fairly sure the locked chamber in question is the library, which Hannelia's skills earned you entrance to.
"The kitchen is where the entrance to the cellar is. Mister Wormgnash is usually down there," Anilda says with a little shrug and a twirl of her scissors on her smooth, doll-like fingers. The question of what he is like makes Anilda cock her head, seemingly bemused.
"Well.... he's like all of you, I suppose. Soft and squishy! He has a big belly and a big mustache. He isn't very nice. Do this! Stay out of my way! Don't do that! Leave that alone! I was trying to be helpful like a good maid but he gets so grumpy about my cleaning! So now I mostly just stay up here and clean up here and he doesn't bother me. Please don't tell him I took Baby, though. He would probably be cross. And then he might take Baby back. But if he doesn't, I can keep Baby, and pet him, and sing to him, and play with him....."
Anilda trails off, humming to the tune of the melody that is still audible from the nursery. She dreamily keeps cutting little shapes out of her own dress, seeming to have either run out of things to share or lost in her own odd little fantasies.
As Anilda talks through her thoughts on the house in her own inimitable style, there's a lot of information to take on board. Much of it tallies with the what group have already seen - the spirit, the locked library, the once magnificent ballroom - so Hannelia has no reason to distrust what she is saying.
Otherwise she makes a mental note of the other key pieces of new information and trusts the others are doing the same: snake in the master bedroom, mysterious locked door, door to the cellar via the kitchen. She is somewhat surprised by the description of Mister Wormgnash as human - she was expecting... something else? - but there should be no mistaking who he is when they finally encounter him.
"Thank you so much, Anilda, that's been incredibly helpful," Hannelia says earnestly. After all, she has genuinely has given them a lot of useful information. She hesitates, scratching at the side of her neck while she thinks carefully about how to phrase her final question. "Anilda, would you like to leave here? Mister Wormgnash doesn't sound like a nice person - you've said as much yourself - and this might not be best place to bring up Baby. If you leave, he won't be able to take him away from you." She isn't sure where they might go, the nuffekeen and her 'child', and she suspects the pull of tragedy radiating from the Sarini mansion may well prove too strong to escape from, but the sadness of Anilda herself has touched Hannelia and feels she had to ask the question.
"Any port in a storm they say, but sometime the sea's more kind than a hangman's noose."" Roger can sympathize with the plight, but wonders where else they could go. Not every heart be as kind as Hannelia's.
Anilda pauses momentarily in cutting shapes into her dress. "Maybe," she says after a little pause. "But I don't know where we'd go. People here get very yelly. The house was nice and quiet before Mister Wormgnash-- so sad! such a sad place! but quiet.... Of course, there wasn't Baby, then. It would be nice to go back home and take Baby but I haven't been able to find the door to go home." The painted mouth curves down in a brief frown, then Anilda's shoulders lift in a jerky shrug.
"Oh well!"
Anilda resumes her snipping. "Of course if Mister Wormgnash went away, then Baby and I could stay here, and there's the nursery all set up and everything...."
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Hannelia nods along as Anilda replies, not really surprised by her words but the idea wasn't rebuffed entirely. And she supposes the fey has a point - without Wormgnash and his particular demonic stain, the house will presumably simply return to its previous state of trauma-tainted relic. Of course there's the small matter of this arguably being Constantine's property, but that's a whole other question. "Yes, that all makes sense. We could perhaps help you find the door you came through to get here? And certainly we'll see if we can persuade Mister Wormgnash to leave when we see him." The woman seems quite content snipping away, and the conversation seems to be at an end. "Ok Anilda," she says, "we're going to be going now. We might see you again later. Thanks again for your help." With that, Hannelia gestures to the others to retreat to the landing before backing carefully out of the room. She then closes the door quietly behind her - she doesn't want to disturb Baby, after all.
With the party gathered once more, she puts her hands up, both in apology for the risk she took in the room, as well as to try to get them to keep the noise down. She runs a hand through her hair and pulls at it, letting some of the tension she had been feeling out. "I know," she says in a low voice, "I know. That was intense. But we got a lot of useful information and, thank Desna, no harm done. When we're all ready, the master bedroom is next so if we're to carry on in a orderly manner I think it would make sense to explore there next. There's apparently some kind of snake we need to be careful of and a door Anilda couldn't get through. Based on what we know about the Sarinis and this house, I'd wager plenty of coin that there's likely more traps around too."
She pauses, a question suddenly coming into her head that she doesn't know the answer to. "Emma," she asks tentatively, "I never actually saw, but what exactly was Baby?"
"I'm just glad yer alright, risky business that was!" Roger shakes his head. "Suppose this is all risky business, but my, that shook my bones harder than a blow to the head."
Constantine had made it clear while identifying the various found treasures that though he was a Sarini he was only distantly related to this branch and had no particular attachment to heirlooms. He was most keen to use that which was useful, as he had with the vials. Nice things were nice, but no good to anyone if they weren't being used. A thought does occur to him, though, that the town could even hold an auction of sorts, selling off items to raise funds for repairs to the Vazarro residence, or any of the other residences and shops damaged by these troubles. That would only work if they could get past their superstitions, of course, but...maybe.
In either case, he had passed the cloak off to someone else.
Where Constantine had expected a ghost, he is surprised to find a woman looking for all the world like a doll. Feyfolk were a significant gap in the occultist's cobbled-together studies, so he lets the ever-knowledgeable Hannelia take the lead with Anilda. Then the woman makes certain requests and gives him a look that makes his tongue numb and his throat dry. He could...but should he?
And then Hannelia...allows for the borrowing of her eyes? Constantine watches the exchange with a certain amount of horror, but the bloodlessness of the affair leaves his stomach coiling within him. And so he decides to finally speak up to try to entertain--quell?--the fey while Emma and and Sirio go see to the "baby."
And then there's that name: Wormgnash. The group hadn't heard that name in some time. But it confirmed what they had feared: that whomever had gotten Mezzodarath started on the abyssal path had indeed come here. And Anilda knew him. He was almost certainly here, orchestrating this horror show. Not knowing what form the "baby" had taken, he begins to get the impression from the description of the demonsbile that perhaps this fey had saved whatever she was taking care of from the abyssal fate. He was not keen to leave a humanoid with her if that's what she had captured, but if she had some beast? Why not? He raises his eyebrow towards Sirio and Emma during this, holding an affirmative nod until he gets a sense of whether that would actually be reasonable.
Ultimately, the display of cooperation seems to have gone in the group's favor, and Constantine's entire body relaxes when Hannelia indicates that she can see again. And then unbidden she continues her gentle interrogation. And Anilda, for her part, shares and shares. Good. Now we're getting somewhere.
"Thank you, Anilda," he says after Hannelia beckons them out of the room. "Should we find the door to your original home, we'll let you know." Of course, doors to the First World were as odd as the entirety of that plane, and not likely as prevalent in Isger as in, say, the Lands of the Linnorm Kings or the River Kingdoms.
The occultist shivers outside the room but puts a hand on Hannelia's shoulder with an appreciative smile. The others might have cautioned her against such behavior, but for Constantine a good gamble could be worth the reward that they had received in turn. He does turn his eye towards those that saw Baby with morbid curiosity. With Emma's luck, it had been a spider, and it was a wonder that she hadn't executed it on the spot.
"Thank you," Hannelia says appreciatively, smiling back at Roger and Constantine. She is glad indeed of the words and actions that suggest a real bond of comradeship growing within the party and that they are learning to trust both in their respective capabilities but also that they have each other's backs when doing so.
She pauses, a question suddenly coming into her head that she doesn't know the answer to. "Emma," she asks tentatively, "I never actually saw, but what exactly was Baby?"
Emma glances over at Sirio, rubbing the back of her neck and letting out a choked laugh. "Heh. Uh, well...Baby turned out to be a young version of those centipede monsters we've been fighting here." Emma shudders a little. "I fed it some jerky, though I have a feeling it would've preferred to take a bite out of me instead."
Emma shakes her head at the memory of the little beastie. To think she'd been worried about what to do with an actual baby. An actual baby probably wouldn't have tried to take a bite out of her. Probably. Right?
It wasn't important.
"For what it's worth, I'm glad that all worked out," Emma continues to Hannelia, crossing her arms. "Truly. Just...maybe give us some kind of indication next time, or at least a minute or two to process it. I was about ready to draw steel and threaten her when she took your eyesight." Emma frowns slightly, considering the magic involved. "Any lingering side effects from that, by the way?"
Hannelia's eyes go wide in shock at Emma's words, then she pictures the paladin feeding the diminutive squirming thing. She tries to suppress the giggle that is building inside her at this image - and with Sirio supervising as well - but doesn't manage it. "Oh, Emma," she says with a bit of a laugh, "I'm sorry. I hope it wasn't too awful."
She eyes Emma's somewhat defensive posture and moves to close the physical gap between them. "And yes, I'm sorry about that too. Things escalated and went in a way I wasn't expecting. It wasn't really a question I was prepared for and I'm not really sure what came over me. But yes, I'll try and let you know next time I'm going to try something... unorthodox." That sounds better than unnecessarily reckless.
Blinking again, Hannelia considers the question. "Honestly? They feel as good as new - she genuinely did take good care of them. Poor thing," she adds.
"If we're all good, shall we proceed to the next room? It goes without saying that we need to be extra careful here."
After some explanations, reassurances, and clarifications, the group collectively takes a big breath before considering the next room ahead...
The door opens easily enough and you are gazing into a grand bedroom. To the south, double doors with inset panes of glass lead out to a balcony that you saw plainly enough from the house's entrance. A large four-poster bed is draped in red bedclothes that are somewhat dusty. Though the door to this room wasn't locked, there is no sign the mob got this far-- the trappings of the room are old, but otherwise undamaged.
Due to Anilda's warning, you look around carefully for a snake. Nothing is moving, but on the sidetable by the bed, in the far corner, you see it: a snake made of gold, amid other dust-shrouded jewelry pieces. You could have taken it for the necklace it resembles if not for the warning-- assuming that this is the snake Anilda mentioned. But it's the only one you see at any rate. It isn't moving.
A fireplace dominates the western end of the room, with a table and two comfortable armchairs facing it.
From this room, you can exit to the south via the balcony doors, or the south east holds the locked door Anilda spoke of.
As the door to the master bedroom swings wide, Hannelia steps lightly just inside the door. Looking around, this again feels like what she was originally expecting - a level of grandeur fallen into decay as a result of the ravages of time, rather than the trail of destruction in some of the lower chambers.
Clocking the metallic snake on the table, Hannelia gestures towards it. "I think that's it. It looks like an iron cobra, but, well, constructed from a different metal. I believe they are usually used to guard things so there's a chance something valuable is on the desk. Certainly it looks like there is jewellery there. These things also sometimes mimic the attacks of real reptiles so it may well be harbouring some kind of poison." She looks to the others as she suggests a course of action. "Probably best to take it out before we explore fully - I'd prefer it not to slither up on us and take us unaware."
Constantine shudders a bit. The mind of a fey is incomprehensible. But to her own, I suppose. He smiles as Emma. "My thanks to you for your compassion and fortitude, Lady Blackford. It as like saved Ms. Venator's eyes and helped us to acquire useful information."
Moving into the room behind Hannelia (it feels odd to be following her into a potentially dangerous situation), Constantine also sees the serpentine construct. He's impressed with Hannelia's succinct explanation and tries to supplement it with another useful detail.
His sword is back in his hand before he crosses the threshold of the room, and he nods. "If it's guarding, I doubt it will come after us, but I agree that disabling it sounds smart. We should gather round and prepare to destroy it." He hopes that this particular construct is unintelligent and doesn't understand their words...
Constantine also knows that these creatures generally resist magic and have to be hit pretty hard to get through the metal of their bodies. ()
If it hears or understands your speech, it gives no sign of it.
"Oh, before we do, there's still the matter o that cloak what's magic to divvy up! Seems like we're all too kind to just claim it, so what say we just roll." Roger pulls out a set of dice and rolls on the floor.
"Ah, just a 6." Roger shakes his head, but doesn't seem too worried, before picking it up and offering it around.
Constantine reports what he knows before watching Roger pull out a set of dice. Now where had he been hiding those?
"I do feel it should go to whomever can best use its magics. Resisting spells is--" But then Hannelia and even Sirio take turns rolling the bones. Constantine looks incredulous at Emma wondering if he's the only sane one remaining in the party--to be playing dice in a ghost-and-fey-filled mansion teetering on the edge of abyssal collapse. If he could be called sane either. No one had pretended he was sane growing up, so...
Emma raises her eyebrows at Roger as he rolls the dice in the midst of their exploration of the manor. To say the day was going strangely was a bit of an understatement - from fighting various creatures and monsters to feeding a centipede baby and dealing with the aftermath of revelations...
And now, rolling dice.
It seemed a bit juvenile to leave something up to the rolling of simple dice...but well, pretty much everyone else had. She could see Constantine giving them incredulous looks.
"Why not?" Emma says. "And then we can deal with that...snake thing." She eyes the golden snake with distrust, but it doesn't seem to be doing anything thus far.
So, with an apologetic shrug towards Constantine, Emma scooped up the dice and rolled.
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"Point taken, Constantine," says Hannelia, "but this is as fair as anything and any one of us would benefit from its protection. It would probably be different if it were an enchanted two-handed blade, say - that would clearly suit Roger - or magical plate armour would make most sense for Emma." She shrugs as her luck deserts her on her dice roll before congratulating Emma on her win. "Well done, Emma! It'll do you well, my friend," she says, swinging the finely made garment over the paladin's back. "Besides, anything we can do to boost Iomedae's protection of you can only be a good thing - for some foes being a paladin makes you stand out as a target." She recalls a previous incident where one of the goblins used a profane power similar to Emma's holy attack against the noble swordswoman.
"Incidentally, Roger," she says, picking up the dice and handing it back to the pirate, "wherever did you get such strange dice? I've never seen one like this before?"
With the treasure business taken care of, Hannelia turns back to the matter at hand. "With regards to the snake, how do you want to do this? I can take a shot while I have an opening, but that will surely lead to retaliation. Otherwise if you want to surround it then we can do that but I doubt I'll have a clean shot and I certainly don't want to hit any of you. Obviously I can be on guard in case it tries to escape."
"An icosahedreon is rather rare in gambling circles. Perhaps it's a pirate's booty."
Glad to see the cloak getting some use, Constantine next turns back to the strategy. "An opening volley while it's in its dormant state seems sounds," he acknowledges. "The rest of us should be near and prepared to strike."
With some cloak shuffling and some tactical discussion... the heroes are soon ringing the snake's location, waiting and wary for it to come to life. Once everyone signals readiness with a nod, Hannelia looses an arrow...
As the others carefully move into position, surrounding the metallic snake without disturbing it, Hannelia has an arrow ready to go in case it moves. Constantine alerted them all to the fact that he believes it has some protections to both magic and weapons and she's not entirely sure how her arrows are going to damage it, but she sets these worries aside to focus on the shot. Once the others are in place and give her a signal, she eyes her target one last time and lets fly.
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Before snake attack:
"Well, t'were a bit of an arms race among comrades you see. When you're playing liar's dice, somebody'll might start with a lowball, a one one, just to feel out the table. Well, Red got a funny idea in his head, and had slipped an eight sided die in his cup, and answered one seven. Course we called liar, and then he showed us his seven and we all had a good laugh." Roger explains.
"Anyway, it just sorta escalated from there, ten sided, twelve, and then after I commissioned this twenty, Captain said it was getting a bit too ridiculous and we stopped it here. Still keep it around though, look, the one's a skull, and the twenty's a parrot!"
--
Snake attack plan:
"Snakes eh? Just give 'em a good bop on the head!" Roger'll freebooter's bane before reading his blade.
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Before snake attack:
"Well, t'were a bit of an arms race among comrades you see. When you're playing liar's dice, somebody'll might start with a lowball, a one one, just to feel out the table. Well, Red got a funny idea in his head, and had slipped an eight sided die in his cup, and answered one seven. Course we called liar, and then he showed us his seven and we all had a good laugh." Roger explains.
"Anyway, it just sorta escalated from there, ten sided, twelve, and then after I commissioned this twenty, Captain said it was getting a bit too ridiculous and we stopped it here. Still keep it around though, look, the one's a skull, and the twenty's a parrot!"
Hannelia listens to the explanation and checks out the proffered die. Sure enough, as Roger said, there's a parrot where she would have expected a '20' to be engraved. "That's fair," she says. "I can see how that escalated into a riotous good time. There's just one bit that rings false for me. Everything else makes sense but you really expect us to believe in a twelve-sided die? Pirates you may be but none of you sounds like a barbarian."
"Pirates," Constantine scoffs with a smile and a shake of his head. "Next you'll tell me you found a hundred-sided die in the eye of a cyclops statue."
---
Constantine tenses his arm, waiting for the snake to move towards him.
"Come on now, of all the tales I've told, that's the one ye've trouble with!" Roger raised his arms exasperatedly, before returning to focus on the snake.
Emma rolls her eyes at the banter about dice. "Of all the stories Roger has told, honestly, the one about the dice probably is the most believable. But come now - let's focus up."
Hannelia's arrow tinks harmlessly off the snake's metallic plating. The snake immediately lunges into life, however, and hisses forward with surprising speed towards the archer.
Constantine and Emma are ready, but both their blades whistle over the snake in question-- Emma's a bit widely as she has to lean forward over the bed to reach, and Constantine missing by the barest whisker, his blade hissing against the steel but making no satisfying contact.
"Damn!" Emma hisses as the snake flits by. Still, as it keeps moving, Emma manages to regain her footing and attempts to strike at it again. "It's fast, watch out!" she calls.
Constantine hisses a curse in the Infernal language as his sword scrapes against the snake. As the snake continues past him, he adjusts his grip, kicking off the bed frame to give himself a little extra momentum.
"No you don't!" he seethes between gritted teeth, catching the construct with the edge of his blade. Wasn't gold supposed to be softer than iron? He feels the blow connect, but the momentum stops him from cracking the snake in half like he had been trying. As his and Emma's blades flash over the red-dyed textiles on the bed, Constantine watches as Sirio's morningstar whips through the melee. Come on, you devil-worshiping, ambitious bastard--hit it!
Sirio swings his morningstar, bringing cold iron to iron.
"Any chance of a parlay Quepno?" he asks his own snake. She shakes her head derisively and shifts position under his collar, hiding her head.
"I know it's made of iron, I'm just being thorough!" he snaps back.
Emma's blows come to no avail-- the creature is both fast and well armored. Still, in the chaos of the various swings, both Constantine's blade and Sirio's morningstar both land a swing that does more than merely chip the gilding on the metallic snake-- they leave actual dents, crimping the snake's style.
Acting with seeming mindless purpose, the snake closes on its first attacker-- Hannelia-- and strikes.
Apparently, the blows thus far have impacted its ability to do so! Hannelia watches as the snake bites the air several inches next to her ankle.
After firing her first arrow, the object suddenly becomes the creature that Hannelia knows it is, shooting off towards her and attempting to take a chunk out of her leg. It doesn't get to her without taking a couple of hefty blows so perhaps her companions attacks put the snake off its own. Retreating again so as to get another shot away and allow the rest of the party to surround it, she lines up another arrow. Unfortunately as a small target with a metallic carapace, her shot merely glances off without visible harm.
Constantine grins almost instinctively as Sirio also manages to connect with the snake. If this was a living snake, it might have succumbed to those dual blows. But this was not like Quepno. The occultist pushes off of the nightstand...
...and nearly loses his balance. His weapon wasn't enormous, but it was forged for use on the field of battle and not in some well-appointed bedroom. As the blade knicks the floor, a ringing sensation goes through Constantine's arm. Maybe one of the others would be able to take advantage of the positioning.
Only for Roger's own blade to bumble into Constantine's a moment later.
"Ar, blast, one small bugger and all of us trying to take a swing!"
"Blasted thing!" Emma grumbles as the little snake manages to dance around them. She'd been sure that when they'd gathered around it that it wouldn't be able to get far before they smashed it - no such luck, apparently.
She whispers a hasty prayer to Iomedae before stepping forward with her next blow - she feels more confident now, having taken a moment to steady her step and calm her breathing - and hopefully it will be enough to land a hit on the slippery construct.
Sirio swings his morningstar again, determined to lay waste to this marvel of engineering.
The snake snaps at Hannelia but comes no closer than before to hitting her. She pulls back safely from the immediate fray... Constantine and Roger struggle to land blows with all the jumping and running around on furniture they are doing-- but Emma strides forward confidently past the snake and slashes down with her sword with a strong blow that sends little springs pinging out from the snake's mechanical innards! Sirio sees a moment and dashes a few feet forward, taking advantage of the snake's focus on Emma to bring his morningstar down-- hard. And accurately. With grim satisfaction, Sirio lands a devastating blow that bashes the last of the fight from the guardian construct.
And nary a scratch on you all! Well done, heroes.
The room is quiet other than doomed clickings and sproings from the battered construct. After a moment of carefully watching it to be sure it really is down for the count, you are free to search the room... and claim what the snake had guarded.
The snake itself has precious metals, and two small but well-cut emeralds for eyes-- it's worth harvesting the shiny, no doubt.
On the table, a woman's rings and bracelets are covered with dust, but brushing off the evidence of the years reveals gems that glitter brightly beneath it all.
Though the room contains other bits of things that were once of fine make, little of it has survived intact the way the jewelry has-- once-fine leather boots crumble into brittle flakes when touched, and so forth.
Double doors lead south to the balcony you saw from your approach, and a single door leads to the east-- the one Anilda informed you was locked.
Whatcha doin', heroes?
As Hannelia backs off, the guardian unerringly dogs her pursuit, again snapping at her but failing to connect. This time the others are able to surround the snake and Emma and Sirio land heavy blows which crack the metal and destroy the creature.
Taking a few minutes to gather themselves and see what else the room has to offer, Hannelia dips into her pack and retrieves her tool set. ”This is the door Anilda said was locked.” She moves towards the single door in the corner. ”I’m going to see if I can do something about that. Does someone want to check the balcony while I work?”
Before she starts, however, she freezes. Maybe something about the encounter with the fey has knocked her off centre a bit but she almost forget to check the door first. She steps back and studies it, mentally kicking herself.
Hannelia starts to work-- then hesitates, considering everything they know so far about the owners of the house. She takes a deep breath and looks the lock mechanism over closely... it definitely seems like a complex and intricate lock, more so than any others she has seen in the house so far. But she doesn't see any signs of poison needles, little glittering runes, tripwires, or other traps.
With a little shrug, Hannelia resumes the delicate art of lockwork.
After a number of tense seconds using her delicate picks and listening for any sound of danger, Hannelia feels the tumblers click and yield under her hands.
She hears what seem like ... an awful lot of extra clicks and ticks, it seems.
And...
...nothing happens.
The eastern door is unlocked. The balcony doors await if anyone wants to try Hannelia's suggestion.
Constantine gives the mechanical snake an extra prod with his blade to make sure that it isn't "playing dead" before being satisfied. "Nice blow," he mutters to Sirio. The occultist quickly surveys the jewelry, noting approximate resale values for whatever the group decided to do with things after they left.
"I'll check the balcony," he responds as Hannelia gets to work on the lockpicking.