"One man can't serve too many masters, it's true. We'll have to step carefully around the Tax Collectors in the future."
Telvir is satisfied with the day's work, and relived to have lived through the close calls in the gang's hideout.
Mithralline nods as her minions reveal the truth. They may have made an enemy today, but they also made a friend, and even Mithralline Cort needs those from time to time.
"So why do you support her?" Caraid asks Aily as the two lie entangled in the sheets of his expansive bed, nothing but linen and sweat separating their bodies. "You're smarter than she is and more capable. How do you benefit from her treating you as she does?"
His tone is genuinely curious rather than condemning.
"I'm sure there is a reason." He continues, "But it takes a better mind than mine to see it."
Aily rolls to her side, props herself on her elbow and lets her fingers walk across his chest. "Hmmm" she purrs just softly, distracting him as her mind searches for the best answer. She knows that he doesn't expect the entire truth, at least not the difficult bits, but honesty (at least partly) is an investment.
"The land we live in expects a certain mold from those rising in power. The most important of those expectations is either being a necromancer or being dead." leaning in she nibbles a bit, before pointing out the obvious "You may have noticed, I am neither."
"As if you'd let that stop you." Caraid replies with a grin, sweeping one hand down the cool skin of Aily's back. "And there are many other lands where being Quick is no hindrance, quite the opposite in fact. You could leave easily if you wanted to, we both could."
He doesn't say together and from how the discussion has been framed he's not even really suggesting leaving, but still...
Aily lets out a pleasing sound as she is petted, her tongue darting out to lick what she was nibbling. "I'm not letting it stop me. My lady is just the ladder I have chosen, for a variety of reasons." her soft cheeks nuzzle, her plump lips part, she distracts and pleases. After a satisfactory amount of minutes pass, she speaks again. Aily believes in conversation with sensory emphasis.
With a smile on her lips, and her hand trailing the object of her attention, she continues "For example, how often is anyone in our little group the target of our enemy's wrath, other than Lady Mithralline Cort. Until her blathering is reduced to being a puddle of blood and seeping waste, that is." her dark eyes turn up toward his "You have to admit she has a rather unique talent for making people want to hit her. Repeatedly."
"That is certainly true..." Caraid replies, his hands occupying themselves with mutual pleasing as he smiles and shifts under Aily's ministrations. "Well if you ever need aid climbing said ladder, or disposing of it altogether you need only ask."
He cups a hand under her chin and draws her up to his lips, aligning other body parts entirely by chance in the process.
"For now though, I intend to make you forget about anyone but me." He says, before capturing her lips with his own once more.
Mithralline grumbles a little to herself. She has a feeling something is wrong ... someone deserves to be dead ... but she's not quite sure why. Or who. But if she finds out...
Chapter 2: Graveclaw
Several quiet days pass as you settle into Qhallagh Manor. Soon enough, though, Berline Haldoli invites herself over as a dinner guest, and of course, you are in no position to refuse. When Berline arrives for supper she has a long chat with you, catching up with all the local Graydirge gossip: who is marrying who, who has the best recipe for pig head pie, qualities of the estate’s landscaping, “Which is done so excellently—my compliments!”
Once supper is underway, Berline is served by her skeletal maid, Glorinsa, while a second skeleton named Reacher remains in the foyer with a hand on his sword. With every dish set before her, Berline rubs a ring on her finger that twinkles with a green light. “Oh, it’s just a poison detector,” she explains with a happy smile. “Of course, I don’t suspect you of anything. It’s just a good habit to keep. We Blood Lords can never really be too careful!
“Speaking of poison,” she says as the last dishes are whisked away. “I’ve done some discreet nosing around concerning that Kepgeda person you all faced down the other day. She was a naughty young woman, no mistake.” Berline leans in as if spilling some confidential secret. “Sure enough, a coven of hags called the Graveclaw made the toxin you discovered. The Graveclaw includes an annis hag named Iron Taviah, and Kepgeda was her daughter!”
Leaning back in her chair as Glorinsa pours a cup of after-dinner coffee, Berline continues. “Graveclaw has quite the reputation. Quite. Iron Taviah lives in Axan Wood; they say she fled there after Magaambya representatives drove her out of the Mwangi Expanse decades ago. But the rest of the coven... they’re all scattered! No one knows where they are. That’s not usual for a coven of hags, no it isn’t. Not at all.
“Frankly, I’m quite curious about this coven. Making an undetectable poison and testing it on innocent farmers? Whatever for? And who dares even attempt such a thing in Geb, where punishment is so, well, let’s be honest, so severe.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, since you all have this lovely new home here and are no doubt as comfortable as ticks in a bottle of blood. But would you mind too terribly visiting Iron Taviah in Axan Wood? I don’t think she’ll be very happy to see you, since you eliminated her daughter, but I really think we ought to find out what this poison business is all about, don’t you?
“Once you’ve figured it out, well, I need you to clean it all up. Murder, I think, is the best fate for everyone involved. After all, Iron Taviah and anyone she’s in league with—I’d guess her coven, frankly—sought to inflict death on a massive scale. That mustn’t go unpunished. No, it mustn’t. I’m responsible to enact some justice, and I’m doing so through you.”
"How curious..." Caraid says once Berline has expounded her information. "That is most unusual behavior for a coven."
He doesn't say anything more, having resolved privately to give Mithralline more of a chance to 'shine'. Purely for Aily's benefit it should be noted.
"Well, no doubt the farmers could have been put to some use, even in death, but I agree. This kind of meddling can't be allowed."
Telvir packs his things and prepares Smoke for the trick. His new life seems to be agreeing with the dog, who looks more bulky and substantial.
Their manner is a whirlwind of activity on the day of the bloodlord visit. Aily hires additional staff, organizes everything, and firmly discourages anyone from getting in the way.
For the first time in Haldoli's presence, Aily is not standing quietly behind her lady, since things need her attention constantly during dinner. A fact that is clearly frustrating to her since gossip and rumor are being served so delightfully from the blood lord's lips.
After dinner, and coffee is being served, Aily resumes her usual place, looking rather pleased with herself.
Mithralline nods -- once she clears her face of the scowl at the mention of ticks. Greedy vermin, always trying to take what isn't theirs. Still, the Blood Lord is right. No one has a right to poison her people except for her, so these hags must pay. She wonders what they will taste like.
"What more do you know about this Iron Taviah?" she asks.
Something tells Ceceka that the Blood Lord won't be taking no for an answer. He quietly finishes his meal, savoring every bite, before committing himself verbally to the Blood Lord's request. "It will be done, mistress Berline."
"Iron Taviah is rather infamous. No one knows how old she is. She lived in the Mwangi Expanse for a long time, but they say she’s never truly recovered from the wounds the Magaambyans dealt her. Eventually, she settled in Axan Wood. She raised Kepgeda herself, which is most unusual. Why would she do that? She taught her daughter necromancy and ritual magic. Annis hags are big, strong, brutal creatures, but Taviah appears to also be a scholar, and that makes her as dangerous as she is unusual.
"As for the rest of the Graveclaw, I don't know a great deal. They’re very secretive, but I suppose that’s only to be expected with hags. They’ve been operating in Geb for several decades. I’m told their services are available for those willing to pay their price, but I’m a humble Blood Lord of modest means, so I’ve never inquired.
"As for the Axan Wood, it's a fairy forest! Dark, gloomy, and haunted, so of course it’s absolutely delightful! I wish I were going myself; I’m really rather envious. But duty calls, you understand, and I’m off to Yled soon. Keep your wits about you when in a fairy forest. You know the rules: Don’t leave the path. Don’t anger the fair folk. Keep your cold iron handy. On that last point, I've badgered a few of the local merchants to give you a discount."
Berline snaps for Reacher to give her a map from a satchel he wears and shows it to you. Her sources indicate Iron Taviah lives in a cottage in the westernmost portion of the forest—an area about 50 miles square. “Iron Taviah lives somewhere there. I don’t know where, but someone must. You want my advice? Get into that forest and start looking around! Ask questions! I’m sure there are pleasant and courteous folk in there who will be happy to talk to you.”
At the last sentence, Aily has visions of hacking through waves of fae, blood and corpses everywhere. While the potential of slaughter didn't dissuade her, she would prefer the easy way out. Her eyes lingered on her mistress, wondering how the lady Cord would handle a return to her people.
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Like her part-sister/part-henchwoman, Mithralline Cort has visions of hacking through waves of fae, blood and corpses everywhere. She smiles. Those stupid fairies would learn the same lessons she had to learn.
Her lip does curl at the thought of cold iron. She remembers how that used to hurt. The cage ... no, never again with that!
Once you are ready, you depart Graydirge and head towards Axan Wood. It takes a few days before you reach your destination. Axan Wood is no ordinary forest. Long ago, magic swept through this place, twisting the trees and altering many of the animals, beasts, and plants that dwell here.
A narrow path leads between twisted trees covered in black mold. Branches hang from their sides like broken limbs. Dark leaves form a thick canopy that blocks almost all sunlight, leaving the forest floor cloaked in deep shadow. A thick and moist mat of fallen leaves covers the ground, and although this forest layer muffles footfalls, every step upon it sends centipedes, beetles, and other vermin scurrying from underfoot. A wind gusts from far ahead, blowing hanging moss, and a hollow moaning follows.
The forest contains several narrow paths that wind unexpectedly and end suddenly, making swift travel difficult. You traverse the paths for several hours. In the early afternoon, you come upon two small old men who converse on the path. ahead Each wears a long red cap and they lean on scythes. “Marco,” says one in a plaintive voice, “How much longer we gots to be out ’ere?”
“Now, Rolno,” says the other, one hand on his hip, “You ’member what the lady told us. ‘I don’t want to see you again,’ she said, ‘till you’ve got six ’eads each!’ Now, ’ow many ’eads ye got?”
Rolno bends to his waist and counts the severed heads dangling from his belt. “Tree. But ye got five! How’d ye get five when I’s only got tree?”
“Well, Rolno, I’m smarter than ye are, see? While yer keepin’ ’em busy, I come up behind an' off wif der ’ead!”
Rolno kicks the ground with an iron toe. “But Marco, that don’t seem right. You’ll ’elp me git tree more, wontcha?”
Marco claps Rolno's shoulder. “Course I will! Ain’t we mates?" He points to your group as you approach. "Ye can ’ave der ’eads, and I git what’s in der pockets.”
“Oh Marco, ye gots a true heart, ye do,” Rolno says. Both of the small men heft their oversized scythes and begin to move towards you!
Before you can react, the men rush up to Ceceka! They slash at his legs with their scythes! Fortunately, his armor keeps him safe from harm.
HP 54/54
AC 20 (22 with shield raised)
Fort +8, Ref +6, Will +8
Hero points: 2
Effects:
"No!" Mithralline screeches. "He is MINE!"
Raising her shield, she throws herself at the nearest foe and tries to decapitate him!
Unable to determine much about the creatures, Caraid settles for a pair of cantrips. One so nearly hits Mithralline.
Telvir recalls what he can about the fey creatures.
Which is little enough.
He settles for hurling a branch at one of the creatures while Smoke lopes up to threaten it.
for
Since every step sends centipedes, beetles, and other vermin scurrying from underfoot, every step makes the elven half-vampire maid frown deeply at the vast untidiness of the wilderness.
Aily truly doesn't like the wilderness.
The two little men with red hats give her the opportunity to vent her dislike. Slipping her knife out of her apron, she dashes behind the one her mistress is quite ineffectually attempting to kill and stabs it in its small hairy back.
Ceceka wants to retort but fails to come up with something witty. Instead, he gives voice to his anger and lashes out at the red-capped bastards with deadly steel. The man's roar is one of blood-curdling rage.
Mithralline, Telvir, and Caraid all miss with their attacks. Ceceka hits three times, though, badly wounding one of the redcaps and shoving him away! Aily circles behind the redcap and takes him out with a pair of precise stabs!
"Marco! Ye bastards!" the other redcap, Rolno, cries. He turns to flee into the woods, dodging Ceceka's opportunistic attack and moving with supernatural speed!
Not one to put up with fey telling tales, Telvir moves after the creature and flings a freeezing jet of magic at its retreating back.
for
"And STAY lost!" Mithralline shouts after him.
"Insolent cur," she mutters. "We'll have to find another awful fairy to ask where the hag's home is."
Aily pushes the redcap's redcap about with her booted foot, wondering if they truly are soaked in the blood of their victims like the legends say. Her curiosity is not strong enough to pick the disgusting things up. "If they were exiles, we must be at the edge of her territory."
Telvir strikes the fleeing redcap, but it isn't enough to take the fey down. He disappears into the woods.
After dusting yourselves off, you continue on your way. Mithralline gets the distinct feeling that she is being watched from within the forest, but the sprite is unable to determine the source of that feeling.
Eventually, as night falls, you set up a camp for the night. A few faint slivers of moonlight shine between the leaves as a woman appears on the edge of the camp. She’s dressed as a simple peasant, with long draping sleeves and unbound auburn hair, and she carries a basket laden with small red apples over one arm.
“Hail,” she says, looking around the camp. “I am Drusilla, a woman of this forest, and I have lost my way. May I take shelter in your camp for the night?”
Caraid looks up and reacts with a suitable amount of suspicion but leaves it to Mithralline to speak - all the better that consequences be heaped upon her head.
Mithralline looks her up and down, noting her long neck. She arrives at a decision.
"Yes, you may join us," she agrees, staring deep into the woman's eyes. "Tell us more about this forest. Where do you live?"
"Oh you poor thing!" Aily rushes to the apple bearing woman, helping usher her to the fire. "I can't imagine the horrors you have been through, being lost and alone out here." Aily goes into sweet caregiver mode, which they all know is a big fact lie.
As she ushers, she makes sure she is behind the woman as much as possible, so when it comes to stabbing she is in the right place.
"Thank you kindly," Drusilla says as she sits down by the fire. "I live with my husband, Neboah, who is a woodsman. My home is nearby. I went out gathering apples, but the paths in these woods don't want to be followed. Would you like some of the apples? They are quite tasty."
Mithralline gives her a fangy smile. "No, thank you. We would not deprive you and your husband of your food."
She glares for a second at Apricot, sure the women will blithely bite into the fruit. Wait, Apple? Is that her name? Whatever. It is unimportant!
"Isn't it quite late to be out alone?" Caraid asks, all smiling charm. "Why only this morning we were set upon by scythe wielding maniacs with red hats! It was most disconcerting!"
He smiles at the woman although it falters when he notices her tail.
"Oh, dear! That's positively ghastly!" Drusilla says, putting a hand to her chest. "There's much that is dangerous in this forest. And much of that danger comes from a single source."
As she warms herself by the fire, a smile comes to the woman's face. "I know what will lighten the mood. How about a game of riddles? I'll ask you three, and if you can solve at least two, I'll lend you some aid.
"Here is the first: 'Before I’m born, I live in the earth. But to be shaped, I bathe in flames. When I die, I’m red or green. What am I?'"
"Iron!" Mithralline responds.
I suppose I have time to humor her riddles... I'm sure Caraid will have some for her; much of what he blathers is unintelligble. It's no wonder Amessi seems to like him.
Drusilla smiles. "Correct! Now for the second riddle: '“Every day, you find I’ve grown, so you bite me, clip me, or paint me. I am neither flesh nor bone, but I’ll be on you when you’re dead. What am I?'"
"Fingernails!" Mithralline responds.
Drusilla nods. "Very good. Here is my final riddle: 'I am a family of sisters three—one in the forest, one by the sea. The third’s in a mine, hidden from sky, but among all of us, we’ve only one eye. What am I?'"
"Somehow I feel as though you're talking about a particular coven of hags." Caraid says, watching the woman carefully. "The Graveclaw perhaps, led by a noted hag named 'Iron Taviah'?"
Drusilla's expression turns grim. "Precisely. I have lived alone in these woods for more than twenty years, ever since Iron Taviah took my beloved husband Neboah to her cottage, where he died giving her a daughter. I’ve hated her ever since, but her defenses are too strong. Creatures of shadow are her allies, and she commands magic beyond my ken. If you promise to hunt her, and kill her if you can, I will ensure your path leads to her cottage, and give you a weapon that will make your task easier.”
"That is a promise we can easily make, for our goals align in this." Caraid says simply. "Her daughter is dead, if that's any consolation to you, slain by us in battle. We intend to make sure that the mother follows the same fate."
Aily's hand relaxes behind her back where it had been grasping the hilt of her dagger, ready to cut the woman's throat, in case of deceit. It seems she wants vengeance. A goal the elf understands.
She nods to Caraid, agreeing with him, and looks to her mistress to see if she wants to say something.
"We'd be happy for your help, since these woods are notorious. That hag has finely overstepped her power, and we'll be glad to put her in her place." Telvir relaxes a bit now that the visitor has revealed her motivations.
Drusilla nods and waves over a wolf who has been waiting in the shadows. The wolf carefully carries a book in its teeth. It drops the book at Drusilla's feet. Drusilla picks it up, fastidiously wipes it off, and hands the grimoire to you. “The rest of Iron Taviah’s coven dwells far beyond my sight—nevertheless, she wields potent magical curses. This book may protect you and the spells within may thwart her designs.”
She also offers to give you each a bit of luck. She explains that doing so requires she touch you, and she won't touch anybody who doesn’t wish it.
“Beyond that tree is another path. Stay upon it,” Drusilla says at last, before departing the camp. “It will take you to the hag’s cottage by sunset tomorrow. But be wary! These woods are filled with many creatures that don’t heed me. Some serve Taviah, as the redcaps did, but others are more ancient and more wicked. Good luck. May you find success against the vile hag."
Telvir accepts the touch of luck. "Thank you for your assistance. We'll destroy that meddling hag."
Aily accepts the touch, dipping into a curstey in thanks.
Mithralline nods, appreciative of the woman's good intentions -- and desire for revenge. She does regret slightly that she won't be able to drink her blood, but her story means there's even more reason to kill Iron Taviah. She accepts the woman's touch.
"We have little time remaining if we're to find her while the boon remains active," she says. "Rest well, for tomorrow we hunt!"
You rest overnight, then continue on the path through the woods. The path travels among twisted trees, dead and leafless. As sunset approaches, you come upon a clearing. In the center of the clearing is a step pyramid more than 30 feet high. Stairs lead to its flat summit. The pyramid’s entrance is at its base—a narrow gap between massive stones. The trail circles around the pyramid and continues past the other side of the clearing.
Three undead humanoids stand at different levels of the step pyramid, moaning somber songs in a ghastly chorus. Their dirge of death and loss echoes through the forest. You could approach them, or take the path around the pyramid and avoid them.