Félicité cannot dodge any of the rocks.
◇
Seeing no good way to deal damage to it, Félicité casts guidance on herself ◆, and then attempts to Escape ◆.
Félicité tries again.
Struggling futilely, she's look over and cast guidance on Turrey.
Gregoth’s arms pull him the rest of the way up from the cellar - no! The pit, the crevasse, the - the sky burns, breaking the stone wall above him back into individual bricks that pummel him, shield him, break his leg with no sound because only the sound of the explosion can be heard…
With a cry of fear and agony, Gregoth’s eyes turn pitch-black. The air around him darkens, grows deathly quiet, lashes out at the falling wall - no! The strange stone swarm. He puts his hand on the hilt of the blade hanging from his side, draws it clumsily, and swings it at the rocks.
Turrey sails through the air to a safe vantage point--relieved to be off the trembling earth--and sings out an enchanted verse to disorient their foe.
Then he draws his bow and looses an arrow.
Kaldren keeps climbing the wall of the fissure...
◆
◆
Reaching the top of the fissure he gets to his feat, pulls out his flail and charges toward the rocks engulfing Félicité.
◆ Draw weapon (Two Handed)
◆ Stride
Kaldren pulls himself quickly out of the crevice, and bounds over with arcane alacrity to Félicité's side, weapon at the ready.
Félicité is still struggling when he reaches her, the sheer weight of the rock swarm almost irresistibly pressing down on her. She manages to bark out a word of magic to give Turrey a little magical guidance.
Bellaluna fires a pair of well-placed shots directly at the heart of crucial stones. Her bolts split apart the rocks and send scree flying, though Félicité's instructions don't seem to make the shots any more effective.
Gregoth seems in a daze as he gathers spirit energy around himself, but there is only rage in his eyes as he strikes with his longsword and slices dozens of small rocks in half in a single strike, igniting their halves in white-hot flame and sending them spraying over the rest of the swarm. In an instant most of the rocks are aflame. A pulse of dark energy from the strike also seems to fell rocks in a wave; whatever spirit or spirits is animating the swarm is apparently vulnerable to Gregoth's gift
Turrey floats on his flying carpet, and sends a befuddling spell at the swarm, which seems to have no effect. His following bowshot does a little better; the arrow breaks harmlessly against a rock, but the sonorous note it gives off shatters a few rocks.
Zintaya discards her apparently useless hand-crossbow, and produces a kukri from nowhere. She steps up to the rock swarm and tries to do as Gregoth did...
but she finds that her strike isn't nearly as effective as it produces little more than sparks.
The rock swarm shudders when Bellaluna and Gregoth both hit it with powerful strikes. It rolls over Gregoth and Kaldren and begins pumelling them.
◆ Step
◆ Pummel
◆ Pummel
Active Effects:
Haste: Everyone is quickened, and the extra action can be used for a Strike or a Stride only
Inspire Defence: Everyone has +1 status bonus to AC and saves, and resistance 4 to physical damage (until Turrey's turn)
...
➤Kaldren
Félicité
Bellaluna
Gregoth
Turrey
Zintaya
Rock Swarm
...
The ground buckled and rolls under Gregoth’s feet, threatening to pull him down into the cellar with the dead and the dying - no! To bruise and batter and crack his leg again! The large man wails again, black tears pouring from black eyes, and lashes out wildly with the blade in his hand.
Gregoth barely feels the hammering of the rocks on him as he carves through hundreds of them, sparks and flames spraying like an exhibition at the Arcanimirium. Most of the floating rocks now lie as burning pebbles on the ground.
Bellaluna turns to Zintaya and shouts ”Do you have any idea why this thing starting attacking us?!”
Barely waiting for a response, Bellaluna reloads her other crossbow and levels both of her crossbows to try and take this thing out!
Kaldren does his best to dodge the swarm of rocks, finding a patch of solid ground he raises his flail and lashes out at the rocks in a flurry of blows.
◆
◆
◆
◆
vs DC 42, 19 bludgeoning
vs DC 42, 18 bludgeoning
Félicité tries to Escape once more. ◆
Unable to escape, Félicité will shield herself ◆ and guidance Bellaluna ◆.
---
Kaldren heroically shields Gregoth and Félicité from the worst of the rock damage with only the power of his holy judgement, but takes some nasty pummelling himself. He then attacks the rock swarm in a flurry, but only one of his strikes manages to connect with the rapidly spinning rocks. When it does though, it seems very effective and shatters a larger rock to dust.
Bellaluna fires a pair of shots, one of which just manages to hit thanks to it still reeling from Gregoth's mighty strike. It is a glancing blow, as it scrapes the side of some rocks, but it still does a little to break up the barely-there swarm. Zintaya has to shout her response to be heard over the rumbling avalanche-given-form.
"I don't know, I've never seen this before, they must want me dead very badly!"
Active Effects:
Haste: Everyone is quickened, and the extra action can be used for a Strike or a Stride only
Inspire Defence: Everyone has +1 status bonus to AC and saves, and resistance 4 to physical damage (until Turrey's turn)
Gregoth
Kaldren
Bellaluna
➤Félicité
Turrey
Zintaya
Rock Swarm
...
Turrey frowns as his spell fails to effect the rocky monster.
...And my arrows aren't effective either. What COULD I do to it?
After considering, he fires another arrow, and then casts a spell.
If I think Spirit Blast would effect it,
If I'm not sure that it would,
Turrey lets the carpet drift gradually to the ground as he concentrates on studying the rock swarm and casting a spell. He decides to try a risky move and blast the very animating essence of all the rocks at once.
There is a brief shimmer as the spell takes hold, but the swarm shrugs it off.
Félicité loads her sling in a desperate attempt to fell the swarm...
Her stone smashes into one at the heart of the swarm obliterating it, and the remaining burning rocks burrow into the soil beneath the ruined floor of the farming hall and dig their way to safety.
Gregoth
Kaldren
Bellaluna
Félicité
Turrey
Zintaya
Rock Swarm
...
"I, I can't believe they sent that to kill me. If you weren't here it would have collapsed the building on me and no-one would have known. Thank you."
She starts picking up papers from her overturned desk, continuing to talk as she does
"Here. This is the invitation I was to deliver to Tregan's mayor. Whatever is going to happen at that Masque, I have no hope of stopping it, but you..."
She looks over you all with unabashed awe. Turrey rolling up his flying carpet, Bellaluna whose hand crossbow was somehow breaking stone when her own was not. Gregoth breathing heavily after igniting a pile of rocks with his fury, Kaldren who held off the attacks of an avalanche with his righteous judgement, and Félicité who withstood the avalanche and broke it with a bullet.
"... you just might. I know the Gray Gardeners aren't well thought of, and clearly the organisation is more corrupt than I ever knew, but not all of its soldiers are evil. Some just want to protect Galt from tyranny. Just keep that in mind is all I ask. Here take these."
She takes off some anklets hidden beneath her trousers and hands them to Bellaluna.
"They were a reward for my loyal service, I think it best they be used to salvage the organisation I once loved. They will improve your agility, and you can click them together when you need them most to run like the wind, across even water if need be."
Outside muffled shouts can be heard as people try to help those who suffered in the earthquake, Zintaya takes it as a sign to hurry as she starts stuffing essentials into a bag.
"It's best if Zintaya Calbieste died in that earthquake. Good luck."
She shoulders her bag and gets ready to leave discretely.
Félicité uses any skills she has to help cover up Zintaya's escape (Medicine?).
"Can you tell us any information that would help us with Gray Gardener assassins? Usual methods, weaknesses, bases?"
”Wait, the Gardeners sent that? How do you know?”
.
She takes off some anklets hidden beneath her trousers and hands them to Bellaluna.
"Yes, hold on, that's a generous gift but what else can you tell us! Is sending cobbleswarms (or things like it, but larger, whatever that is) part of their usual tactics. We've encountered several other odd creatures in our short time here..." (Turrey will least each of them.)
"I don't know the gardeners well, but do they gain the alliance or control of such things through pacts? Alliances? Dark magics? Is it possible that the gardeners have made some recent alliance with some other force?
"Please, if you're concerned as you say for the life of the gardeners, and the people of this nation, help us understand what's going on here, and how we might defeat it."
"We train with poison until it's second nature." Zintaya says to Félicité as she's stuffing her bag. " Our default is Shadow Essence, a strength sapping poison made from shadow plane that eats away at body and soul, but carefully chosen poisons for each job are frequently called for."
"As for creatures such as these," she says, waving a hand in the general direction of the room's carnage, "I've never seen the like of this thing before, but the assassins have access and contacts to a variety beasts and monsters that can be used for jobs. Death by poisoning is suspicious, but if a criminal should fall afoul of an angry troll in the woods, no-one would bat an eyelid"
She listens to Turrey describe the Hyakume and nods in recognition.
"Hyakume are tools of the Directors General. Rather than simple assassination, they love destroying knowledge. They are cruel, but an effective tool in fighting dissidents. As for the others, they sound like Sahkils. Fear is an important tool in the Gardener's arsenal, and what better weapon to inspire fear than a Sahkil minion? Or so I've been told, they are the weapons of the Directors General too, and if you oppose them you can expect to face more of those corrupted stalkers of the ethereal plane"
Turrey nods. "Thank you. Do you know of any way that we might find this Director General?
"And do you know--or have any leads toward someone who might know--how one of those Blades can be destroyed?"
Despite the gravity of the situation, Zintaya smiles.
"Directors general, it's a position not a person, and there are many of them. If anyone knows how to damage or even destroy a final blade, it'll be them. They spend much of their time in the crypts beneath the Gray Monastery. Unlike other crypts we don't bury our dead there- they are used as torture rooms, summoning chambers, and places to speak with all manner of extraplanar creatures coerced into service. They are warded by potent magics against tunneling though, the only way in is through the monastery."
With a final "Good luck", she shoulders her bag and sets off stealthily toward Kyonin.
The next day you have a chance to finalize your plans for the Masque, plotting amongst the hanging plants of Soul Mother's Herbs. The Masque is scheduled to start at the 7th bell, and run until midnight.
”I think we should arrive as two groups—one of Turrey and his entourage of two, and one of me with my entourage of one. It’ll disconnect us from each other if Gardeners get suspicious. I think one group, probably mine, should arrive on time, while the other is about 15 minutes late. Once again, it’ll disassociate each group from each other should something bad happen.”
Once it is time to head out to the masque, Bellaluna arrives wearing an orange-and-gold cocktail dressed with a gold-and-brown cloak draped over her shoulders. Her mask is that of a male lion, its mane pointing out like the rays of a setting sun.
"I agree with Bellaluna, on both counts. As far as they know, we do not exist as a group. Let's keep it that way."
Félicité will continue wearing her bereavement clothes, as she is unwilling to change out until the time of her mournng has passed. But she can style an outfit around her dress, perhaps the "angel of death" look.
"I agree with Bellaluna, on both counts. As far as they know, we do not exist as a group. Let's keep it that way."
"No, they are aware of us in a group; we've been ambushed more than once, remember? But that just supports going in multiple groups; they're expecting a single group of five."
Gregoth nods in agreement. “I can go with the earlier group if Kaldren goes with the later,” he volunteers. “That way there’s someone in heavier armor in both parties in case there’s yet another ambush.”
You just want to be the first one in so you can be the first one to die, the shadows silently jeer. He does not answer them, but his face darkens and his expression grows stonelike.
Slowly the man turns to Turrey. “I have… never been to a party like this before,” he admits. “Would you have any recommendations for an outfit? Maybe something that lets me keep this armor on underneath?”
You formulate a plan to arrive at the Masque in two groups. Turrey and Gregoth at the strike of 7 bells, then Bellaluna, Félicité and Kaldren 15 or so minutes later. Knowing that guards are expected, Gregoth and Kaldren dress the parts of heavily armoured warriors, but nevertheless don masks as required. Bellaluna finds an orange-and-gold cocktail dress with a lion mask, accompanied by Félicité in a more severe black outfit with a mask of a grim reaper.
As Turrey and Gregoth arrive just before seven, they find the monastery exterior buzzing with guests waiting for admittance. The ramp up to the monastery entrace is well lit with blazing torches and wide enough for several arriving guests to walk side by side. Gardeners wearing executioner hoods and bearing large axes stand guard along the ramp, and flanking the entrance are two gardeners dressed in opulent finery.
One is a gaunt, redheaded woman who wears a gray mask with a large smile and eyeholes but no other features, and the other a thick-set man wearing a gray mask with a frown and eyeholes.
"Welcome! We are the hosts of this gathering" says the woman in a shrill voice after examining Turrey's invitation "and we offer you the hospitality of the Gray Gardeners and our Monastery for the evening"
They share a meaningful look, but usher Turrey and Gregoth inside, and later do the same with Bellaluna, Félicité and Kaldren.
Inside both groups are greeted with the same view, a great ballroom more than a hundred feet long. The polished lacquered floor gleams, and long ribbons and tapestries of deep-red velvet hang on the walls. Tables holding drinks and hors d'oevres are tucked into a few alcoves. Other alcoves contain exits, but these are blocked with thick curtains pegged in place to prohibit casual wandering. All the attendees wear elaborate clothing and masks. Some masks are simple hoods or veils, while others are outré feathered or beaded masks two feet across. Any of these attendees could be Gray Gardeners.
A large white sheet covers the unmistakable shape of a guillotine in the middle of the ballroom. Towering twenty feet high, the guillotine exudes an ominous sense of finality, even underneath the sheet.
The most imposing feature of the ballroom is an enormous clock opposite the entry. Fully twenty feet in diameter, the clock is made of black wood affixed to the stone wall fifteen feet above the floor. Its iron hands move inexorably, counting down the minutes until the Midnight Unmasking.
Hundreds of partygoers move around the ballroom, mingling, laughing, and playing politics.
Bellaluna gazes around at the scene before her in silent awe, more than a little overwhelmed at the grandiose decadence on display.
And they really just put Silent Lenore front and center. Ballsy.
Getting her wits about her once more, she pulls Kaldren and Félicité aside as the three enter the gala. ”I’m gonna go off on my own for a bit; trying to make myself look like easy ‘prey’ while away from my ‘bodyguard.’ I can handle myself,” She pats the hand crossbows hidden under her cloak to punctuate her point. ”But watch my back, just in case. Dunno what handsy nobles might try to do while filled with wine.”
With that, Bellaluna breaks away from her group. She grabs a glass of wine and wanders around the ballroom, emanating an aura of a cold-but-playful fem fatale, waiting to see what arrogant noble dares go for the bait. All the while she scans the partygoers and their movements, trying to find anyone moving around in such a way that suggests they are not just some random aristocrat that came for the wine.
”They have the same masks as the busker who was overseeing the blade in the town square,” Gregoth whispers to Turrey as the pair pass through the entrance hall into the ballroom. “Didn’t Fe- our friend say he was a director? They probably are too.”
The large man almost flinches as he surveys the room’s decorations, quickly looking away from the horde of dark shades clinging to the centerpiece guillotine. His gaze stops on the clock. “That’s not good,” he whispers to himself. Wait - you have a job to do. Quickly he pulls himself together. One hand pulls the black cloak across his chest, the other rests on his hip in an attempt to look like the smaller man’s simple-minded bodyguard.
Félicité is talking with anyone that she can, using Biographical Eye to identify as many masked people as she can - if not by name, by profession.
2. (CS)
3. (CS)
4. (CS)
5. (CS)
6. (CS)
7. (S)
8. (CS)
9. (S)
10. (CS)
Before leaving Kaldren takes a few moments to speak a quick prayer and puts his heavy armour into Pharasma's care. He is dressed in a grey robe over his cassock concealing the spiral embroidered on its chest. Pulling the cowl up over his head, he adds a black mask so that only his eyes are visible.
Once inside he will keep close to Félicité and try to keep an eye on the others.
As Bellaluna scans the partygoers, she finds herself drawing the attention of someone who appears to be doing the same thing. An elegantly dressed dwarven woman also carrying a glass of wine sidles up to her as she's looking around. She wears a small domino mask that does little to cover her face.
"Who do you have for Gardeners then? That fellow looking at the clock there, don't you think he's paying a little too close attention for a party? He's in charge of keeping it running by my guess."
The man she's referring to is dressed in an opulent bright-blue costume that extends up to his mask, a large velvet piece with 5 points that turns his whole head into a star. He does seem to be looking very closely at the clock.
"And that one," she says pointing at Gregoth staring at Silent Lenore. "A halfling's bodyguard? Please. He's a murderer"
As Gregoth and Turrey take in the scene, the musicians start playing a fast-number and couples start dancing. A regal woman marches up and down looking over the crowd with a barely-disguised sneer. She is wearing an owlish mask with tawny feathers, and has an enormously wide dress supported with hoops and tethers. She scoffs at everyone she looks at, especially Gregoth, but she stops as soon as she sees Turrey.
"Now there is a man who moves with Grace. My lord,", she gracefully descends to offer Turrey her hand so smoothly and so low that there can be no doubt, she is a dancer, and one of some skill. "Will you join me for this dance?"
While Turrey is engaged with that, Gregoth is startled to find that the woman host from the door has somehow approached him. She is being fawned over by half a dozen desperate partygoers each entreating her for some favour- to release an acquaintance or forgive some taxes. They fall silent simultaneously as soon as her eyes fall on Gregoth.
"How are you enjoying the festivities? I'm sorry if the entertainments aren't to your tastes, you're a fan of the circus, I heard from my colleague. Fear not, I'm sure by the end of the evening you'll never want to leave"
Félicité begins moving through the crowd, stopping for brief conversations until she identifies the person under the mask. Some don't even need a conversation, as she identifies the noblewoman Illachin Polker talking to Bellaluna, and the finance minister Babry Wrenolous fawning over the clock.
She catalogues names and occupations of the guests in a frenzy. Most are merchants or nobles from around Galt, but she is fairly certain that four of the people she's spoken to are active Gray Gardeners. While talking she spots someone she has already identified, Alphundar Dundish, dusting a tray of pastries with powder. He is a local merchant of some standing, and he points the server with the tray toward a tall elf, someone Félicité was able to identify without needing to speak to; Andariel the Golden. He is the owner of a large merchant shipping business based out of Isarn, and moving into Alphundar's territory in Litran.
As Kaldren quietly listens he overhears more than one person repeat a rumour that Silent Lenore will be unveiled soon. As he moves closer to the final blade that the whole room seems to be avoiding he feels the evil coming off it like a silent and invisible storm. He spots a hole in the ceiling directly above the guillotine, mostly concealed by hanging banners.
As Kaldren is standing there, a man with a smooth white mask opines with unseemly enthusiam "She'll see use tonight if anyone dares to disrupt the masque"
As Bellaluna scans the partygoers, she finds herself drawing the attention of someone who appears to be doing the same thing. An elegantly dressed dwarven woman also carrying a glass of wine sidles up to her as she's looking around. She wears a small domino mask that does little to cover her face.
"Who do you have for Gardeners then? That fellow looking at the clock there, don't you think he's paying a little too close attention for a party? He's in charge of keeping it running by my guess."
The man she's referring to is dressed in an opulent bright-blue costume that extends up to his mask, a large velvet piece with 5 points that turns his whole head into a star. He does seem to be looking very closely at the clock.
"And that one," she says pointing at Gregoth staring at Silent Lenore. "A halfling's bodyguard? Please. He's a murderer"
Bellaluna responds while only giving the dwarven woman a casual side glance. ”Haven’t figured out who is, but I know who isn’t.” Bellaluna motions toward Gregoth. ”Can’t say if he’s a murderer, but he’s definitely not a Gardener. He looks at Lenore in awe; he’s clearly not used to the final blades.” She leaves out that she knows exactly who the man is. She points to another individual she noticed. ”The gentleman with the gaudy angel mask seemed suspicious, but he’s just tailing some noblewoman he’s trying to catch the eye of.” A complete lie; she’s not confident that he’s not a Gardener and has no idea if he’s actually tailing a noblewoman. ”I’m still trying to get a pin on Smiley and Frowny,” she motions to the host and hostess they met at the entrance. ”Clearly they’re intended to present as the organizers, which would mean they should be Gardeners, but they could also just be randoms placed to misdirect attention away from actual Gardeners.”
"How are you enjoying the festivities? I'm sorry if the entertainments aren't to your tastes, you're a fan of the circus, I heard from my colleague. Fear not, I'm sure by the end of the evening you'll never want to leave"
Gregoth blinks a few times, wishing fervently that Turrey hadn’t been swept away to the dance floor. “I’m afraid you’ve got me confused for somebody else, ma’am,” he answers in his best imitation of the bard’s effortless presence and poise. “But your party is certainly very lovely - do you host these sorts of things often? It’s running so smoothly I suspect it must be because your practiced hand is conducting everything like the director of an orchestra.”
When Félicité has identified the Gardeners, she will find a quiet spot and expend a use of message to let Bellaluna know which ones are likely threats.
While talking she spots someone she has already identified, Alphundar Dundish, dusting a tray of pastries with powder. He is a local merchant of some standing, and he points the server with the tray toward a tall elf, someone Félicité was able to identify without needing to speak to; Andariel the Golden. He is the owner of a large merchant shipping business based out of Isarn, and moving into Alphundar's territory in Litran.
Félicité walks past Andariel, and whispers as she passes by, "Don't eat the pastries that are about to be offered, they've been tampered with."
Then she will attempt to intercept the server, bumping into them and scolding them for ruining her dress.
Turrey arrives in a dapper silver suit, with a shimmering blue-and-orange kingfisher mask.
When invited to dance, he bows theatrically. Gregoth can take care of himself for a few minutes, surely.
Behind the mask, Turrey smiles. "I recognize another dancer when I see one!" He takes her hand and begins to dance with her.
Kaldren turns from his consideration of the grim centre piece to look at the white masked person. "Do you think so? Surely you do not think they would send any of their guests to such a fate?".
"You know I think you're right." Bellaluna's insights seems to have convinced Illachin . "You know what I think?" she asks, speaking a little too loudly suggesting the wine is going to her head- "The Gardener's hold on power is supernatural, not political. Where is their stability greatest? Here in Litran, and right here in this monastery. All the strings are pulled from here. All the executions are pulled from there."
She points a blunt finger at the looming guillotine.
"It's all part of a vast scheme by some monstrous and unnatural intelligence, and it must be somewhere here inside the monastery!"
Suddenly concerned that she might have become too animated, she excuses herself.
The woman's shrewd eyes narrow at Gregoth as she considers his denial. She spins on her heel as he starts a question to her, moving to another partygoer as Gregoth is mid-sentence and giving them a similar cryptic message of greeting. She continues to ignore her pleading followers, who stop start and stop pleading with her in quick succession as she moves.
Andariel inclines his head to Félicité in gratitude, and the server she collides with looks aghast at the accident; they plead for forgiveness with the same gravity you'd plead for your life, before leaving when Félicité gives it. Alphundar slinks away into the crowd, seemingly having given up his poisoning attempts, for now at least.
Turrey starts to perform an ambitious dance with his tall partner, but the dress proves to be difficult to manage, occupying twice as much space as he does. An ill-timed step on one of the fringes causes him to stumble and surely fall; but with delight the gathered crowd sees it was an elaborate feint fall-into-sommersault and it gets whoops of delight from even this jaded gathering. Over the next hour Turrey and his mystery partner dance several more times, each to shrieks of delight from the crowd (and once or twice from his dance partner).
The man doesn't reply, but from the way the skin pulls at the edge of his eyes, you can tell that he is smiling, and something tells you it is a vicious smile. He backs away from Kaldren with the smooth gait of a ghost before turning and melding into the crowd.
A couple of minutes before the clock strikes eight, the male host with the gray wig walks up a few steps to stand next to the covered final blade. At some point he must have switched masks with the other host because his mask now bears a smile rather than a frown.
"We Gray Gardeners are but caretakers, mere custodians of justice and law. But all good caretakers have their tools, and our tools are well-oiled and well-used in pursuit of harmony. This is Silent Lenore, only one of our final blades."
With a flourish, the man pulls the sheet from the guillotine, exposing its gleaming blade held high, as though ready for an execution. A murmur of excitement runs through the crowd. Most will have seen executions before, but a chance to examine one of the gruesome artifacts up close is rare indeed. You all conducted extensive examinations of one yesterday so are perhaps not as interested in this one, save Félicité. The blade of this one gleams, and Kaldren notices that the hole in the ceiling he spotted now has a light shining down onto it, making motes of dust in the air shine as they dance. He further notices that the light is magical in nature, though the nature of the magic is impossible to determine from down here.
Bellaluna mostly ignores Silent Lenore’s unveiling, suddenly a lot more interested in the masque’s hosts’ masks. So the smiling one is the “active” host? Hmm…
Bellaluna scans the crowd, trying to find the hostess to see is she is suddenly now wearing a frowning mask.
Making a brief mental note of the hosts’ masks, Bellaluna turns her attention to Silent Lenore, trying to see if she notices anything interesting about this particular final blade.
Félicité will also take an interest in the hosts. She designates the male host and the Silent Lenore as targets of her investigations, dropping her other investigations.
Bellaluna looks through the crowd to find the hostess during the 8 o'clock unveiling, and sees her watching from an alcove. She now wears the a frowning mask, but on close examination her mask is smaller than the host's; they must each have a matching pair.
Félicité likewise studies the hosts carefully. They pay her no mind, but she studies them with single-minded focus as Bellaluna examines Silent Lenore from afar.
She too spots the opening above it, as well as the strange light shining down on it. The whole in the ceiling is protected by a railing, suggesting another floor up which could look down through the hole. She looks quickly around the room seeking any kind of access, quickly spotting something behind a hanging tapestry roughly inline with the final blade.
Surreptitiously peeking behind it, she finds a narrow staircase leading up.
Once she notices the stairway behind the tapestry, Bellaluna breaks off from the party to investigate the hole in the ceiling.
Félicité will use another message cantrip to signal to Turrey and Gregoth that her group has found a staircase and is exploring.
Having finally found his way back to Turrey on the edge of the dance floor, Gregoth does his best not to stiffen when Félicité‘s voice whispers in his ear. “Should we help?” he murmurs to the smaller man, eyes darting around the crowded room in search of any staircases.
Bellaluna, Félicité and Kaldren slip out of the party one at a time after Bellaluna discovers the staircase. Gregoth spots the trio carefully ducking behind a curtain and can follow. With the commotion caused by Silent Lenore's unveiling it seems unlikely that anyone's absence will be noticed, at least not for a while.
At the top of the tight staircase Bellaluna finds herself in a broad landing with a dusty hallway leading east stacked floor to ceiling with creates, evidently not having been used in some time. To the west is a short hall lined with portraits leading to a wide chamber with iron railings; the hole as seen from below. Around the hole are three flat planes, like mirrors except floating without frames, with some sort of light focused through them.
In the alcove to the north stands a menacing statue made of wooden beams and guillotine blades. The blood-stained body of Illachin Polker, the dwarven socialite who shared her theories with Bellaluna downstairs no more than half an hour ago, lies before it.
Félicité will investigate the body using Forensic Acumen.
”Sh*t!” Bellaluna instinctively pulls out her crossbows and looks around the room for any sign of danger . ”I talked to her. Less than an hour ago. I…don’t even know her name. She was…going off about the Gardeners. She must have delved too deep. She…what did she say? Something about an unnatural intelligence pulling the strings. And now she’s…” Bellaluna gulps, averting her eyes.
”Kaldren, let’s check out the weird light while Félicité takes care of this.” Bellaluna leads the redeemer to the east, as much to investigate as she wants to not have to look at the body. ”Don’t look over the railing; don’t want any wandering eyes to look up and see us.”
Félicité moves to the body to begin examining it. She immediately notes several large cuts. They seem too big to have been made with a sword, looking more like the result of a meat cleaver wielded with tremendous force. As she starts to take out her calipers for measurements Bellaluna and Kaldren head toward the western hallway.
As soon as Kaldren puts a foot in the hallway, the statue lurches into life, stepping off its plinth and swinging the heavy guillotine blades attached to its arms menacingly!
Active Effects:
➤Gregoth
Bellaluna
Statue
Félicité
Kaldren
Turrey
Gregoth’s eyes barely have time to adjust to the dimness of the upper landing before they widen in shock. What is that thing!? Félicité! The big man races across the floor, not caring if his footfalls can be heard by the crowd below. One hand pulls the sword from its sheath at his waist - the other grabs at the statue in an attempt to keep it from attacking his companion.
”Why am I not surprised?”
Seeing the guillotine statue move, Bellaluna instinctively moves to a more advantageous spot and fires both of her crossbows at the statue.
vs FF if Gregoth’s Grapple worked
vs FF if Gregoth’s Grapple worked
ONLY IF THE GRAPPLE DIDN’T WORK: DC 27 Fort or be pushed 5 feet away.
Immobilized until they succeed at a DC 10 Athletics check as an Interact action.
Bellaluna then reloads one of her crossbows
Gregoth rushes in and grabs the statue, his impressive strength managing to hold it in place.
Bellaluna takes advantage and shoots it twice, the second one punching in after the first and sending splinters flying. The structure seems quite strong and difficult to pierce, but the two shots still do a tremendous amount of damage, and one of the bolts seems to stay lodged in, pinning it to the wall.
The statue immediately tries to free itself from Gregoth's grasp, by separating his head from his body!
◆ Strike
◆ Strike
◆ Strike
Its blade-hands swing repeatedly at Gregoth's neck with incredible force. He just manages to get his sword up in time to deflect the first blow, but it still slices deep into his chest. The next two are similarly powerful, and the grizzled warrior takes some nasty wounds
Active Effects:
...
Statue
➤Félicité
Kaldren
Turrey
Gregoth
Bellaluna
Statue
◆ Strike
Blade: 1d20 + 37 ⇒ (10) + 37 = 47
Slashing: 3d12 + 17 ⇒ (6, 11, 11) + 17 = 45
Bellaluna sees the guillotine-statue nearly slice hard at Gregoth’s neck and she turns to Turrey and says ”Turrey, we need that same ditty you sang at the circus!”
Bellaluna then reloads her other crossbow .
Bellaluna then levels down her crossbows and fires at the statue.
Another bolt gets stuck until it succeeds at a DC 10 Athletics check to Interact
Bellaluna fires a single crossbow bolt.
Bellaluna then reloads the crossbow she just fired then looks down at her chest and whispers ”Kotar.” as she vanishes into thin air.