Aily is a wet miserable mess and feels strangely sick to her stomach. And bloated and beyond irritable. Every fiber of her being just wants to stab every single person that fawns over her mistress.
"I believe the little people would be well served in your presence for a sinlge night, my Lady." Aily prods Cort into a night's rest, where a a few coins passed around has the menace occupied with hanger-ons and a few servants to see to her needs and thirsts.
Once that is taken care of... "I plan to take a bath." she mentions to no one in particular, though she is standing next to Caraid when she says it. A simple declaration, though her dark half-lidded eyes invite him to join her if he wishes sometime after.
Caraid meets Aily's gaze and he inclines his head slightly, while a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "That sounds like a most wise action. Although after today it would take something special for me to immerse myself completely in water again."
None-the-less, about five minutes after Aily has settled into her bath the door opens softly and she soon finds warm hands massaging her shoulders and neck in the hot water.
After resting and finishing your business in Sallowshore, you make the nearly 200-mile journey north to the city of Yled. After many days of travel, you at last approach your destination.
The city of Yled rises from the surrounding badlands like an infection, with the barbs of whatever weapon inflicted the wound still stuck in its flesh. The ruins of a thousand armies lie scattered around it for miles, forces that broke themselves against the unyielding wall of bone that surrounds the city, a wall rumored to crush those who threaten its wards. Remnants of trebuchets, catapults, chariots, siege towers, spears, swords, and lances all lie broken and rusting in the dirt, a bed of shrapnel caltrops as far as the eye can see.
Dust billows in white clouds across the thin roads that cut through the deadlands in a sudden windstorm, as if nature itself screams a word of warning. Undead legions and merchants trading in implements of war are constantly on the move. With each step toward the city, Yled’s towers seem to grow higher while sunlight grows fainter beneath the ever-present smog. The city bristles with jagged points like the prickly skin of a poisonous fruit, all directed outward as if warning all comers to stay back. Anemic sunlight glistens off its ivory bone wall, a ribbed corset wrapped around the torso of the city that towers above the broken remains of its enemies. The city’s infamous towers rise from behind the bone wall, their obsidian foundations brooding beneath osseous embellishments, frowning lines arcing jaggedly, or bristling spears stabbing toward the sky.
Yled is indeed the single largest gathering of undead creatures in Golarion. Under the stern gaze of Blood Lord Haeqajet—its immortal architect and undisputed authority—the city hasn’t so much prospered as endured countless military attacks while launching thousands of its own sorties into the hostile world it occupies. In all this time, no enemy has breached its notorious Bonewall.
Behind that gore-soaked barrier, streets twist into a labyrinth, thick with dead ends and blind turns. In the center of the city, dwarfing all other structures, is the Panopticon. Haeqajet’s tower, like a limbless tree with ivory plates and glass panes for bark, reaches for the sky to become an all-seeing spire. Four universities dedicated to necromancy thrive here, each specializing in its own application of the dread art, and each sporting its own tower, unique in its architectural expression. The Academy of Arms trains the elite warriors of the nation who join Geb’s armies garrisoned here. Factories churn through raw material ravenously, constantly iterating on weapons and armor designs to extract even the smallest incremental gain. The smog from their chimneys hangs over the city like a sooty black cloud. From small farms and villages to towns along the Obari coast and even Mechitar itself, merchants and traders form long lines bringing in raw materials. Yled, like a black maw, consumes everything that Geb can provide and regurgitates armies and weapons. These traders bring recruits both foolish and ambitious, supplies for the necromancers, food for the quick and the dead—more raw material, more corpses, more labor.
After passing through the Bonewall and getting your bearings, you head towards the Twilight Castrum. The necromancy school is on the outskirts of Yled in a neighborhood known as Three Gates—this name comes from a spacious circular plaza outside the school that is paved with cobblestones and lined with cafes and quaint shops. Three iron gates lead to large cemeteries, with residences and shops among their gravestones and mausoleums. These cemeteries are also bustling commercial and residential zones catering to students; each also contains an upscale hotel.
Although Yled is primarily a city of the dead, the Three Gates neighborhood is lively. Students carrying books come and go from residential lodgings in the three cemeteries. Shops sell clothing bearing the tower-and-moon logo of Twilight Castrum. Several cafes on the plaza are open, with skeletons pouring coffee, tea, or more rarified drinks for customers.
“Yoo hoo! Yoo hoo! Yes, over here!” The voice is familiar. Blood Lord Berline Haldoli sits in the deep shadows beneath an awning at a round table with two men. “Fancy seeing you here! I don’t spend all my time in Graydirge, of course. Business, you know, it simply never ends. Sit down, sit down, I’ll introduce you. Never too early for a little networking, am I right? Of course I’m right.”
Telvir takes a deep breath of the thick air of the city and breaths a sigh of contentment. The hustle and bustle reminds him of his days as a necromancer's apprentice.
"A pleasure to meet you, and good to see you again, Blood Lord."
Mithralline looks around, surprised slightly at Berline's -- coincidental? -- appearance in the city. Still, she doesn't let it show as she approaches the halfling. Never let your potential enemies see a hint of weakness, after all.
"Yes, you may introduce us," she agrees, glancing at Annoying to make sure she doesn't make a social faux pas by demanding to be the one to introduce her. Yes, it's her job, but in this case, Mithralline expects she'll realize it's more important to let the Blood Lord handle the task.
Perhaps when I take my rightful place, if she does a good job here, I will give her that task and let Altiloquious handle something else where I don't have to hear her voice.
Berline welcomes you, gives you each a sponsorship token allowing you to move freely about Yled, and then introduces you to her companions. “Blood Lord Kyril Vonth,” she says first, gesturing to a tall and emaciated wight with lanky white hair and eyes of crimson fire. “These are the people you were telling me about, in the report of your agent Gishkar. Yes, at Sallowshore. Well, I told you I knew them and here they are!” Kyril greets you with formality, evaluating each of you as Berline gives your names.
Then, Berline gestures to a handsome and slender man whose open robes show off his muscular chest. “And, of course, it’s an honor to present Blood Lord Zthni. We’ve all heard much about the Celebrants lately, and Lord Zthni is tied to them. Yes, your star is ascending, my lord.” Zthni, in contrast to Kyril, is affable and casual, welcoming you and buying whatever drinks you desire. “After all,” he says, “you only live once, eh?” Zthni laughs, finding his own joke enormously funny.
Ceceka is more on edge than ever. This city is a stark reminder that war and strife in inevitable in Geb, and when you're alive, you've got more to lose than everyone else. Dignity, purpose, free will: the necromancers of Geb do more than just break Pharasma's cycle.
When Berline introduces the group to the two Blood Lords, Ceceka beams a thin sharp smile at the two esteemed gentlemen. Once Berline is done, he inclined his head and takes up Zthni's offer by ordering a Mechitarian Bone Ale. It's on the pricier side when it comes to beer, but it's not (too) extravagant.
"It's precious until it isn't," comes the gruff response from Ceceka. "Thank you for having us, Lords. The recent weeks have been ... an eventful journey for us."
Aily bobs low while grasping the sides of the skirt for each of the blood lords, but otherwise stays quiet. She pulls out a chair for her lady, brushing off any dust first. She orders a rare blood wine that she knows will make her lady look like she had rich tastes and wouldn't just suck on any leakage from a gutter rat. Any little bit to help the little harpy not look foolish.
With all that complete, Aily stands behind her mistress at maidly attention.
Telvir keeps his face in a blank, schooled expression.
Too many Blood Lords for my taste. One is risky, two are dangerous, three...could be a downright calamity.
"The pleasure is ours, Blood Lords. To what do we owe your kind attention?"
Mithralline nods at the blood lords. "You say you've heard reports of us?" she asks, politely. There's no reason to antagonize these two as long as they continue being respectful. While she's more involved with the Builders League, it can't hurt to have more factions behind her.
"We are all three of us here for business," Berline says. "Though my business is these two right here. The Great Factions they represent don't always see eye-to-eye with the Reanimators, but I am hoping that we, at least, might come to some sort of understanding."
When Mithralline asks about the reports, Kyril inclines his head. "Yes," the wight intones, his voice somber and thoughtful. "Gishkar's reports indicate that Sahni Bride-of-the-Sea had been smuggling tremor paste and avoiding paying the proper tariffs. The accounts are balanced now, in part thanks to your efforts. The Export Guild is grateful.
Aily and Telvir get the sense that Kyril is resentful towards the hag, but there's something else that's bothering him. When questioned further, the wight continues. "Sahni had been shipping the tremor paste to Nathnelma at the Twilight Castrum. Nathnelma has purchased large quantities of magical ingredients from me through the Guild, But since reading Gishkar's reports, I now suspect Nathnelma was cooperating with Sahni to cheat the Guild—and Geb—for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of gold pieces. That does not sit well with me."
Zthni is much more open about his feelings towards Nathnelma. “Oh, how I hate that dreadful and vicious old hag!" he bellows before downing a glass of wine-laced blood. "At my first social outing as a Blood Lord, she waited until I was in front of our king Geb himself before calling me a dagger-toothed dandy and, I quote, a ‘perfumed leech.’ Now, yes, that was centuries ago, but what good is undeath if one can’t hold a grudge for all time? I wish she’d choke on her own eye. Her position as a visiting professor is up for renewal this month and I intend to use all my leverage to ensure she’s cast out on her bony behind.” Zthni elaborates that he’s being hosted by the Twilight Castrum, as he has donated a considerable sum to the school, which is naming a building on campus after him. “Yes, the Zthni Hall for Vampiric Studies. Has a very flattering ring to it, don’t you think?”
Aily's head nods slightly in appreciation for the name. Otherwise she waits... since there isn't a blood lord that doesn't want Something.
"Where do we figure into this issue? I assume you want us to investigate Nathnelma's activities?"
”Nathnelma was working with the Graveclaw, yes?” Berline asks, beaming with pride. ”How splendid! It seems that setting you all against Iron Taviah in Axan Wood was such a brilliant idea, as you’ve admirably unwound the spool of that coven right to here! Now you should finish what we’ve began!”
Kyril seems unimpressed. ”My primary concern is the money. I find it hard to believe any plot concocted by a single coven of hags could be much of a threat.”
Zthni, however, is all for moving against Nathnelma. ”It doesn’t surprise me that she’s up to something sinister. You’ll need to get more information so that we can ensure her tenure is severed! After all, it’s what that grave hag deserves!”
Nathnelma holds occasional public lectures and the next is scheduled very soon. Zthni suggests you attend and learn more about the hag and what she is up to.
As the conversation winds down, the Blood Lords stand and make courteous goodbyes. Kyril gives you his room number at a hotel called the Queen’s Loft and suggests you visit him at some point ”where we might get to know one another better.”
Zthni tells you that he lives at another inn called Harrowhouse, ”For now, until it gets boring.” He invites you to seek him there at any time. ”I love entertaining. And Yled has such sights to offer! Such stimulation! If you want to swim with the Blood Lords, you have to get used to the sharks,” he adds with a wink.
Berline smiles at you once the other two have left. ”Look at you, making friends! You should take them up on their offers. It never hurts to check in on a Blood Lord and see how you might be helpful. Sometimes all they want is pleasant company, and what do you have to lose? I mean, besides that.” She doesn’t explain what “that” is, giving only a knowing look.
Mithralline gives a cold smile. "Yes, they may be very useful," she agrees.
"Come, Advisa, have you secured lodgings for us yet? We apparently have some time to kill, and unless you want me to have something else to kill, I don't intend to spend it loitering on the street."
Aily's shoulders tense, annoyed but not surprised, that her mistress didn't notice her commissioning a porter to carry their baggage to one of the inns best hotels. "Of course, my Lady."
Ceceka accepts the invitation with a nod and then remains silent until the two Blood Lords have departed. He does not reciprocate Berline's smile nor joy. "I think I understand your happiness now. You benefit greatly from presenting us as problem solvers to the powers that be, and you get to wine and dine as you do so. Yes, perhaps I will indulge their requests and take a dive into the deep end. After all, there's only so little time between now and the next moment of ruthless violence."
Secretly, he's aching to be alone for a few blessed hours so he can refocus his will through self-flagellation and devouring honey-blood pies, but perhaps that will be easier to accomplish by playing along with Blood Lord Zthni.
You get settled in your own lodgings in Yled and spend some downtime at the markets. As night falls, you take Lord Zthni up on his offer an dmeet him at Harrowhouse. Zthni lives in the hotel’s best suite of rooms on the top floor, where the vampire's orc valet gruffly invites you to wait in the sitting room. Soon enough, Zthni arrives and eagerly welcomes you.
“I hope you didn’t expect us to loiter in this boring place all night, when Yled has so many stimulating distractions to offer! Oh, no no no. We are going to party, my new friends. We are going to revel, we are going to indulge, and we are going to overconsume.” Zthni holds out his arms as his valet slides an evening coat over his shoulders. “Do try to keep up. It’ll impress the Celebrants.”
At each venture, each character can choose to indulge in the venue’s vice or abstain, performing one of the two following activities, or they can leave Zthni for the evening.
INDULGE IN ZTHNI’S VENTURE
CONCENTRATE EXPLORATION
You throw yourself into Zthni’s hedonistic company, sipping from suspect chalices, watching gruesome displays of entertainment, and consuming mind-altering substances. Attempt a DC 23 Fortitude saving throw. Increase this DC by 2 for each time you’ve already attempted this activity this evening.
Critical Success: You momentarily outshine Zthni in the evening’s indulgences. You can ask Zthni one question about another NPC he knows in Yled: Berline, Kyril, or Nathnelma, which the vampire answers truthfully to the best of his ability.
Success: You impress Zthni with your ability to keep up.
Failure: The evening starts to catch up to you. You’re drained 1, or increase your current drained value by 1 (to a maximum of drained 4).
Critical Failure: As failure, and you’re lost somewhere along the way. You can’t participate in any more ventures this evening.
ABSTAIN FROM ZTHNI’S VENTURE
CONCENTRATE EXPLORATION LINGUISTIC
You accompany Zthni but don’t fully join the vampire in his indulgences. He doesn’t appreciate the company of anyone who doesn’t participate, so you must attempt a DC 21 Deception, Diplomacy, or Intimidation check to convince him to keep you with his evening’s excursions.
Critical Success Zthni: believes you to be the life of the party. Your next Abstain from Zthni’s Venture can’t get a result less than success. You can ask Zthni one question about another NPC he knows in Yled, as with a critical success from Indulge in Zthni’s Venture.
Success: Zthni considers you to be fun company.
Failure: Zthni is dubious but willing to keep you with the group for now. Increase the DC of your future Abstain from Zthni’s Venture checks by 2 (this increase is cumulative with increases from prior failures).
Critical Failure: With a quick bit of subterfuge, such as a signal to a bouncer or a quick step through a hidden doorway, Zthni leaves you behind. You can’t participate in any more ventures this evening.
The amount of Reputation points you gain with the Celebrants by the end of the evening depends on how much you are able to keep up with Zthni's debauchery.
Ceceka is overwhelmingly hesitant at first, but he loosens up once the first chalice is handed to him. Whatever liquid is contained within, it manages to expand Ceceka's mind to such a degree that the gruff man stops hiding behind the angry facade, and fully commits to the pleasures Zthni is so graciously sharing with them.
And it's easy to go on when the first sip was so, so good. For the first time in weeks, Ceceka does not feel the need to seek closeness with Zon-Kuthon through self-flagellation. No, more drinks! More! That's what he needs!
And Zthni as provides, Ceceka devours. Urgathoa would be proud.
But there is such a thing as too much. Unlike Zthni, Ceceka inhabits a mortal vessel and the vessel has been pushed to its limit. The drinks, the drugs, the everything, it's just a little too much. But how much can a little more hurt, really?
A lot, apparently. Drunk and wasted, his gut protesting against the foul liquids and substances that Ceceka consumed throughout the night, he'll need someone to help him to his room eventually.
The tall elven dhamphir would have liked to stay a fixture in the background for the entire debaucry, but the look the blood lord gave her when she shook her dark locks at the first offer told her that wall flowering was not an option.
Luckily she had PLENTY of practice at deceiving vampires into thinking she was going along with whatever they wanted. The maid swayed to the music, fake sipped every drink, lowering her face into every haze never inhaling, and softly smiled with glint of playful dreams at everything.
"My lord" Aily purred after a long (non) intake of something, her bottom in his lap which had been there for a little while now "does blood lord Berline ever join you in these delightful..." she waves her hands about as if she could find the word "... escapades?" she prompts to pull any information out of him.
It wasn't until the end of the night, the blood lord started getting dubious, since with the amount she has appeared to have imbibed in should have killed a horse.
Shamefully, Telvir spends most of the night being terrible to the help on the rounds, sending back perfectly good blood and getting very picky about the types of drugs he samples.
Mithralline's intrigued by the blood, since it's delicious, but turns up her nose at the various drugs. She's no longer a simpering, sybaritic fey, gallivanting around looking like a fool. She mocks Ceceka and Addicty as they engage in the debauchery (or pretend to), but holds herself above it, uncaring how she might look to others. Zthni may not care, but she knows that a blood lord must act above her lessers.
"So, this Nathnelma. What more can you tell us about her? And Kyril? He seems like more than a money counter..."
Caraid hangs back with Aily, pretending to indulge in the debaucheries while keeping his wits about him.
Zthni happily answers Aily's and Mithralline's questions. "Ah, yes. Berline has been known to indulge her vices with me from time to time, but at least for now, she seems much more interested in talking you lot up to any who will hear her. She truly believes your stars are rising, my friends. She may even be grooming you to be Blood Lords yourselves one day! Now, wouldn't that be something!
"Nathnelma, that wench! I simply cannot wait to see you bring her to ruin! And to expedite matters, I happen to know her home address!" Zthni happily gives you the address of a townhouse in Three Gates, not far from the Twilight Castrum. "I know she keeps wraiths bound inside the walls of the house to ward off intruders, and no doubt she has other defenses as well. So if you do decide to drop in, be wary!
"As for Kyril, he has quite the strategic mind. He loves board games, including his favorite, Blood Price. I've matched wits with him a few times, and I've noticed he does have a weakness to his strategy..." Zthni elaborates on the weakness, ensuring that you will have an edge if you decide to engage Kyril in a game or two.
***
By the evening's end, all of you have managed to keep up with Zthni's debauchery (or at least pretended to do so). "I am impressed, my friends! You would fit right in alongside the Celebrants!" He presents Aily with a token of his appreciation, a clear spindle aeon stone.
As Zthni wishes you farewell, he offers you further influence with the Celebrants if you bring Nathnelma to him alive. “I have such delicious revenge in mind,” the vampire says, waving goodbye.
Telvir runs a weary hand over his face, "Quite a night. I'll be sleeping this off before I attend any academic lectures, or venture any games of skill."
Caraid, who has found the whole thing rather gauche, simply nods his agreement. By the end of the night his patience was running short and his participation became correspondingly perfunctory.
"I think rest is a good idea for all of us." He says. "Spending some time with Kyril probably makes sense next. Once people have recovered that is."
Mithralline scowls as he sees Zthni hand something to her servant. Trying to steal Apatheta? If you think I will allow anyone to take anything of mine, you will learn, Blood Lord or no!
Still, the sun is about to rise, and finding a nice coffin to rest in is a better way to spend the day. "Armadillo! It's time to rest!"
The elf recognizes the stone, and her eyes widen at the implications. Imagining shoving it up DEEP into her mistress, so the maid never has to feed her again is rather tempting. She gives the lord a proper thank you, smiling inside quite a lot when she notices Lady Cort's scowl.
Her practiced calm demeanor warms several degrees as Caraid slips beside her and whispers something in her ear. Her red eyes almost glow as she whispers back.
"Once I have her settled, I can come to see to your 'needs', my lord" the tone playfully wicked, and lacking completely in deference.
"Coming, my lady. Your quarters were instructed to be prepared, warmed, and properly scented, before our return." The maid followed her mistress, politely pointing out the correct directions back to the inn, here and there.
Once you have rested and recovered, you pay a visit to Exchequer Kyril at The Queen's Loft. This stately hotel north of Three Gates Plaza caters to affluent travelers and merchants, and thus has a long-standing relationship with the Export Guild. A statue of Arazni stands proudly in the center of the lobby.
You find Kyril reading a historical treatise in the hotel lobby, the statue of Arazni looming over him. He replaces his bookmark, stands, and greets you in a somber and thoughtful voice. “Goood evening. I thought we might get to know each other over a game,” he says. “Do you know the rules to Blood Price?"
Blood Price is an economic strategy board game simulating Geb, its factions, and the machinations of the Blood Lords. Kyril asks you to join him in the hotel library, where a copy of the game is available for guests to use. Each character who plays the game selects one of Geb’s factions; Kyril, of course, plays the Export Guild. During the game, each player begins with a starting position on the board, a special ability, a unique victory condition, and a bank of resources—all decided by their choice of faction. The Great Factions have the most powerful starting positions, but the game is balanced so the lesser factions can be victorious. Players make deals with each other, trading resources and establishing alliances. Any player might win alone, but a joint win—by players who work together—is actually more likely. In any case, the game ends after 6 turns.
Success on any check earns that player 1 Blood Point (2 Blood Points on a critical success). There is no penalty for failure unless the player attempted Thievery; in that case, Kyril won’t talk to that character during the game any longer.
Kyril isn’t chatty by nature, but the game brings out his talkative side. Each round, one player can ask Kyril a question, to which he responds truthfully.
Winning the game requires 10 Blood Points at the end of a turn, but players can form alliances to reach that total, adding their Blood Points together. Kyril agrees to an alliance for a joint win with one other player, provided the two of them together can reach 10 Blood Points, but he won’t offer or join an alliance with more than two other players. If two players (or alliances) each have 10 or more Blood Points at the end of a round, the one with the most Blood Points wins; in the event of a tie, the game continues another round, but if the tie isn’t broken in the following round, nobody wins. Similarly, if no player or alliance has 10 Blood Points at the end of the sixth round, there is no winner.
Ceceka can't help but scowl at the idea of sitting down to play a board game, a board game!, with the Blood Lord. Exactly how old are they again? But it isn't until the permanently-annoyed man sits down and plays that he gets it. That this is fun. That this stimulates the brain and makes you seek out thoughts that can help solve problems, and let you scale obstacles.
Telvir hopes to establish an early lead by opening aggressively. "I prefer senet, but Blood Price has interesting mechanics."
He poses a question to Kyril as he switches to focus on the political parallel's to Geb. "Who would you say, in the city, has a hand full of Blood Points, Kyril? Who has the most influence?"
"You may be on my team, Alliance," Mithralline "offers" Aily, quickly setting herself up to win.
She comes out aggressive, playing as the Builders League, before switching tactics briefly as her servant continually distracts her from the actual game.
"I have heard some little bit about this Nathnelma, a hag of some repute. Tell me more."
Aily stands behind her mistress, looking Easily over her should in interest. As Lady Cort insists on her joining, she does so quickly, smoothing down her skirts as she sits.
The game is complex, and one that is not easily understood if one had never played it before. Which Aily had not. She tries a series of strategies, from bluffing to negotiating, to trying to understand the underlying patterns. None of which were with great success.
She would say, for her ego, that her first attempt at a Board Game, wasn't horrible. But there is no way, her lady and herself would win this.
For her questions, she sticks to mapping out Berline's interest in them "My Lord, Blood Lord Berline has been a consistent ally to my lady, have you had much dealing with her in the city of late?"
Caraid seems to be taking the game very casually indeed, tossing out non-sequiturs and anecdotes quite merrily while making seeming haphazard moves and trading very oddly more than once. It isn't until he makes a seemingly terrible trade with The Annoyance that his plan becomes clear and his random moves reveal just what his inane chatter has been covering.
After five rounds he looks up, catches Telvir's eye and reaches across the board to clasp his companions arm.
"I think we have it my friend."
Mithralline glares at Caraid. Rotten luck!
Caraid returns the look with a radiant smile.
"Oh bad luck Lady Curt. Don't worry I'm sure you have other talents."
Hotel staff keep food and drink coming throughout the game. Kyril starts off by taking a strong lead, but soon falters as you are able to use Zthni's tips to exploit weaknesses in his strategy.
The wight chats with you as the game progresses, answering your questions. "I would say that the Blood Lord with the most influence in Yled is Haeqajet, the city's overgovernor. All the Dread Commanders report to him, and only he has the power to veto their decisions. Though, given his own fanatical desire to hold Yled in a constant state of readiness for war, he rarely does so.
"Of Nathnelma, I know of her reputation as a scholar and instructor. She has a home in Three Gates, as well as an office within the Twilight Castrum. Two mummies, agents of the Twilight Castrum, serve as her valets and reside in her home. I also know that the hag is securing shadow ash, a rare alchemical ingredient, from the Pallidium, a nearby shrine to Urgathoa.
"Indeed, Blood Lord Berline has been visiting me often of late, hoping to increase relations between the Reanimators and the Export Guild. She is pleasant enough, and I have enjoyed our conversations thus far."
Kyril finally starts to make a comeback in the fifth round, but by that point, it is too late. Caraid and Telvir secure an alliance and claim victory. Kyril rises and spreads his hands. "Masterfully played. Congratulations on your victory."
He considers the board, then retrieves a bejeweled rod of wonder and hands it to Mithralline. "Please accept this gift, Lady Cort. This suits you, it seems, as you plainly rely on whimsy rather than strategy."
He bows to you all. "Thank you for indulging me in the game. Before you depart, I will say that I am eager to question Nathnelma about the scam she and her fellow hags have been running on the Export Guild. Once you are finished with her, please bring her to me alive. I will take things from there. For now, farewell."
Ceceka has to hide his face behind a clenched fist when Kyril bestows upon Lady Cort a most wonderful gift. He doesn't feel like being the center of her attention, not after this, but nonetheless, a chuckle escapes him.
"The honor was ours, sir. We'll ...", and he eyes his companions to make sure he isn't speaking out of turn. "We will do what we can to bring her in alive."
After Kyril departs, Telvir discusses some of the new information the group has gleaned. "Shadow ash from the shrine of Urgathoa? We could pay our respects at the temple and see if we could learn more."
"It seems we could attempt to confront Nathnelma at her home or her office."
Mithralline's torn for a rare moment, caught between pleasure that this Blood Lord realized that she is clearly the group's leader and deserves to be given things, and fury that he thinks she appreciates whimsy like some sort of common fey, or -- worse -- might be patronizing her!
As they depart, she hands the rod to Telvir. "Here, you may hold this for me."
"Yes, let us go to the temple and see what we can learn," Mithralline agrees.
Aily rises and bows "A wonderful gift, thank you, my lord" she thanks him for her lady, assuming that she wouldn't. "Also an excellent game, sirs" she congratulates Telvir and Caraid as well.
"I will take good care of it." While rods of wonder are silly, some of the effects are interesting, from a clinical sense.
Once they're out and on their own again, the grumbling warrior manages to come up with non-acidic words for once and does something he can't remember doing in a long time. "I know I am not usually one for words, but I want to congratulate you all on a job well done. Both Blood Lords seem to have taken well to us."
The Pallidium is located in one of Three Gates' cemeteries. A tall building adorned with spires in the shape of spinal columns and flying buttresses fashioned from the rib bones of colossal beasts, the Pallidium is a shrine that bears obvious signs of once-greater stature. Several statues are broken. A banquet table draped in a funereal shroud stands in place of an altar. Buzzing flies catch the light that penetrates the grimy red-and-green windows high above. Delicious cooking smells—no doubt preparations for one of the Pallid Princess’s many ritual feasts—fill the air. About a dozen worshippers mill about. A few priests can be seen among them, all wearing white cloaks over long gray tunics, increasingly tattered as they reach to the floor.
Mithralline quickly locates the highest-ranking priest in attedance, a female ghoul. The ghoul smiles and bows as the tiny vampire approaches, bowing to her. "Greetings, champion of the Pallid Princess! Are you here for our upcoming feast? Your fleshy companions are welcome as well..." She rubs her hands together and eyes the quick among you as if you might be on the menu...
Though Telvir admires many of the works of the Urgathoa's followers, he's never been one to indulge in their feasts.
"That sounds charming, but we have a pressing interest in some alchemical supplies. Perhaps we could attend the feast later."
Caraid remains quietly at the back of the group - of all the gods in Geb Urgathoa is the one he likes the least.
No surprise given the state of her 'champions'.
Mithralline wants to lick her lips at the idea of an Urgathoan feast -- she casts a quick glance at Telvir, Caraid and Ceceka -- but of course she has far too much dignity to let her interest show.
"As my minion says, we have much to do at the moment," she replies. "We are in need of these supplies."
"Of course. And what alchemical supplies are you in need of, exactly?" the priestess inquires.
"Shadow ash," Mithralline replies promptly. "We will need to take all that you have on hand."
She snaps at Aily for the woman to hold out a bag to collect the reagent in.
The ghoul narrows her eyes. "Shadow ash, eh? And what do you intend to do with such a rare and valuable substance?"
As Mithralline talks to the priestess, four individuals wearing hooded cloaks enter the Pallidium. Telvir notices the newcomers' religious symbols of Pharasma: amulets in the shape of spiraling blue comets. The elf suspects these Pharasmins are not here for peaceful purposes...
"To fulfill our goddess' will, of course," Mithralline says, having exactly zero idea of what someone would actually use the substance for. "But the specifics are none of your concern."