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Albrέkt scowls, his jocular mood seemingly fleeting; "Deliveries? Der trinkets? Zhe kan viat Meine Kleine Schwester... A pity ve kannot feed upon vun of Der Cocytian Knotten. Let zhem know shier doom." The lanky sage hobbles towards the inn door; "Let us dine... Perhapz Fräulein Silversting kan provide a useful honey to our trap? Perhapz even try a new diet?" Despite his disguise, the old man's eyes glitter with the hunger of undeath...
Still wearing his sage's skin, Albrέkt raises an eyebrow curiously; "Kalm now Fräulein Silversting..! I merely vish to visit upon Der Waisenhaus und its headmeister... zho now its konnections to Der Baron are revealed it meritz perhapz more scrutiny?"
Albrέkt nods in agreement at Rose plan to meet with the Baron, then looks to his undead sister; "I vish to pay somevun a visit. Zhen ve schuld hunt. I hunger..."
Allowing his vampyric visage to shift back to his chosen disguise of the crooked old sage, Albrέkt bows his head dutifully at Tiadora's commands; "As you and Der Kardinal dekree Frauchen Tiadora. I vud welcommen a khange in zuch cirkumstanz allowing us to remove der Cocytian Knotten vunce zhey haf zerved zheir purpose." His pale tongue brushes across yellowed old teeth at the thought... At her question, the vampyr-in-sage's-skin nods to himself as if struck by an epiphany; "Ja. Ve vish to kontinue to bolster Der Horn's defenzes. Der ungeheuer Grumblejack kan he be dispatched to us? Der brute iz a uzeful veapon..."
Wearing the skin of the weathered scholar, Albrέkt flashes a smile of crooked and yellowed teeth at Elise's demand; "Frau Zadaria... Zhis delightful kreature is Fräulein Silversting. Ein schervent of Herr Baron und zher kause..." The vampyr-in-eldars clothing eyes Elise curiously; "Ve haf all but konquered Der Horn. Pray tell, how doez zhere affairz ov your Cocytian Knotten fare in our schtread?"
Regardless of if Rose heads to meet the Baron, Albrέkt will seek out the Cocytian Knot, at their residence at the Drunken Angler Inn. The brute will assume the form of the lanky old scholar worn previously as he journeys slowly through Farholde...
The old man chuckles at first Rose's disquiet over the potential burden he presents, then at Xanos' cryptic commendation. Leaning on his staff he shuffles slowly forward and extends a hand to the young woman with a smile; "Der Old Vun sagen visely. Do nicht vorry about me Fräulein..."
The old sage follows the group up the stairs, bent and slow in his gait. He appears at the door, lanky and wearing a rictus smile as he listens to two group's interplay; : "Zwei of Der Baron's prized juwels falling into our Schatztruhe... "treasury"... Most opportune." The old man chuckles dryly as he eyes the newcomers...
The journey back to Farholde is uneventful, and as they enter the town Albrέkt once again assumes his "Opa" disguise. The old sage enters the inn slowly, tall yet now stooped, his weary eyes flickering through the patrons, seeking any familiar faces... :
Albrέkt's eyes narrow and he matches her predatory smile; "Ja. Ve schud..." The wretch turns and beckons her to follow; "Zhis vay. Der Old Vun und der Hölle Laich must hav zhere say..." As he walks the vampyr assumes the form of the old sage once again... "Opa" leads her back to their inn, then once inside tracks the other two down to the room where the leader of the failed Knot resided. Attracted by their voices and familiar scent, his heavy steps herald his coming. Looming at the doorframe the giant stoops, hailing his fellows; "Greetings Gentlemen. Ve have eine guest I vish you to meet..." Albrέkt beckons for her to enter.
Albrekt steps slowly backward eying this shadowy newcomer, whose question as an undertone of derision. "Pleaze. I am just un old man, vischiting my family grave. I haf no koin nor valuables... He leans heavily on his staff; "Your vurds... tongue is nott known to me. Do you schpeak zhe Kommon tongue?" : Bluff DC16:
Though bowed, the old man's stance has shifted to one a man at arms would take in combat... The "old man" speaks slowly; "Opa Briarwood at your zervice my dear."
With a nod to the hand and the infernal sorcerer, the undead wretch shifts to the door and assumes the form of the old magister he wore earlier. The lanky wizard hobbles out leaning heavily on his "staff", as he leaves the inn he acknowledges the innkeep in his quiet, weak voice; "Danke." Once out onto the street, the old man smiles and slowly makes his way toward the cemetery...
Liking the new vibe already gang - especially with that old spider Xanos at the middle of it all lol. @Sariana: Albrekt has been casing out the local crypts and cemeteries as he needs to nest. He's also identified the perfect feeding ground in Farholde's orphanage (but has yet to pay a "visit"). Perhaps you've been watching him having had a similar plan? (as an aside when out and about Albrekt rarely wears the same "face"; I've a Albrekt Incognito profile (which I've posted with) and he has various aliases he runs with. Currently he likes to investigate as either: Opa Langenschlaf ("Grandfather Longsleep") - a doddering old sage (current mask). Dosten, the barbaric member of the 7th Knot - to bait them and potentially frame him for crimes if uncovered.
Having returned from his crypt hunting Albrέkt is no longer wearing the form of Dosten, having now assumed a form of an old magister. At the innkeeper's request he nods and smiles wryly; "Of korse. He vas such a good man." The vampyr hands over the 25 gold, and bids the innkeep lead them to Kael's room.
Still wearing the skin of Dosten, the vampyr eyes up potential victims for feeding amongst any drunkards, destitute or the like... GM-F: As he hunts Albrέkt mulls the knowledge he has gleaned, weighing how (and if) he should share with his fellow Knotten. Of the orphanage (larder) he immediately see's an opportunity to gain entry using the name of Mott. I kan only prezume zhat Schulleiter Mott ist related to der dear departed Kaptain Mott of Talingarde...
As he leaves the inn Albrέkt assumes the form of Dosten, the barbaric member of the 7th Knot. Vhat sveet music vil I make zhis eve? I vunder... Smiling to himself he moves into the streets of the Farholde seeking both information and to feed. GM Fang: Albrέkt will seek to move away from their base, perhaps head to another inn or tavern where he can ply a local or two for information (at the cost of ales or such). He is particularly curious about the abbey and if there are any orphanages or asylums in the locality. :
Albrέkt smiles wryly at Xanos' dark laugh and edged words. Bravo Old Vun. The vampyr's glittering eyes flit to Tiadora as the interplay continues, keen to discern how the Cardinal's mouthpiece was making of the parlance; :
Before and during the meal Albrέkt impassively declines any food or drink. During the meal he sits silently listening... and watching the conversation play out. He pays particular attention to first the Cardinal's beautiful lackey; Vun day pretty, I vil fest on your blut. I vunder Fräulein... vill Der Kardinal miss you? and then, when their host brings things to a head, turns his focus on the Baron himself... Vell Herr Baron. Let us schee how you engagieren zhos quvestions...
Albrέkt arrives as a wizened old traveler... slow and ponderous in his steps leaning heavily on his plain staff. Should any guards wish to take his staff from him, he quizzically looks at them before mutely struggling to stay stable without it. :
When possible Albrέkt assumes the guise of a well-dressed half breed servant. He accompanies any of the group who require his attendance - otherwise he wanders Farholde seeking to discern what he can of the place and its folk... :
Flanking the guard, a frustrated Albrέkt arcs his scythe at the silenced guard : :
Albrέkt nods and follows Vank. The guard-skin he wears flashes a crooked smile as he goes...
Albrέkt eyes the downed guards hungrily, but stays his scythe. He looks to the others to handle hostile negotiations with the voice...
Albrέkt nods in agreement, but says nothing - mindful perhaps of previous comments about his thick accent.
Albrέkt nods silently as he assumes the form of a guard. :
Albrέkt assumes the facade of a servant and follows the others dutifully.
Albrέkt drops the form of a guard, replacing it with one of a dwarven engineer. He accompanies Xanos - mirthlessly collecting armfuls of arrows to be stored in the tunnels...
Albrέkt grins and once again assumes the form of a deceased guardsman. "I vill need to speisen... "dine" soon... Ja? Der hunger ist growing und zhould I lose kontrol you are all in danjer..." His words linger as his dilated pupils flicker across each of you.
Albrέkt smiles, any second now the hobgoblin's guttural magicks would wash over them, stealing from him the opportunity to be heard, or his ears to hear the guards screams. He would be quick then; "Mein Kaptain? Yes I serve..." The lanky guard allows the answer to hover for a second...
Albrέkt sticks to his side of the plan and continues to lumber down the stairs. When he reaches the guards the lanky skin he wears smiles disarmingly and nods back toward the stairs; "Ach! Shot mein bolt too qvikly! Go hav fun I vill kover here..." :
Albrέkt grins, then slowly lumbers back toward the two guardsmen...
Albrέkt eyes the door, hungry to destroy it until discussion turns to murder most foul; "Heh. Herr Catesby... I also hav majickz... Minn Murderus Kommand jah?"
As Haruk and Amber share a look and some complex signal betwixt each other, the brutish wretch wearing-guardsman-skin halts and waits. He clenches and unclenches his paw upon the hilt of his weapon, clearly keen to usher the living to their enviable fate.
Albrέkt flashes a smile in his guard-skin at Kaynen's proclamation; Ja. Bring more to ze schlaughter... The big man nods toward the arrow bundles "Ve schuld deztroy zhem..."
Albrέkt-guard smiles and nods, bidding the Amber serving girl follow the leering guard... As they exit, he waves the honour guardsmen fellow them...
Even wearing the illusion of another skin Albrέkt's boredom at being drilled on movement and and military bearing is clear. He listens stoically before adding a callous reply to Vank's instructions; "Ja. Ja. Ve know... Tell me how kommen un neidrig zuch az you knows more of der movement of men... Zan men zemthelves?"
Albrέkt assumes the skin of a guardsman; "Zhis vill suvice ja?" The brute guard nods toward the stairs; "Der Krähenhorst?"
"Zzzzzzzzzz... (snort)... zzzzzzzz"
The big Northman takes his place at the table and grins at the dour dwarves; "I hear tell zhat der dverg can outdrink us men of der Nord Ja? Let us test zhis minn friendsch! " He beckons over a bar maid or the innkeep himself, and places a pouch of coin upon the table; "INNKEEP! Coin for der ale... Keep the draughtz kommen Ja!"
Ready for the drinking contest Albrέkt assumes the skin of a tall ruddy faced Northman. He grins maliciously and bows: "Mein friendz... I am known as Bani Odenkirk... Der name Bani meanz "slayer of..." und Odenkirk is oft courz our oldt friend... Quite fitting Ja?"
The lanky manservant skin being worn by the unholy wretch bows low in exaggerated humility... "Merely misplaced humour Ja? I am ever your servant Mistress Thorn. As a former knight's esquire auld Opa vill sprekt to der good Kaptain und his men..." ... before shooting Kaynen a cold stare as he exits; "Master..."
At Ember's demandments old Opa Langenschlaf merely bows with a wry smile and a somewhat facetious comment: "Natürlich Mistress Thorn ve vill discern zhat vich ve can... Vun quevstion, if I may, on euer disguise.. A minor noblevoman, vithout patience to zhose below her... You do sprechen of a role Ja?"
Sitting opposite the youthful noble, sipping frugally from his cup of vintage port, was the man's loyal advisor and servant; Opa Langenschlaf The venerable man's lanky frame is folded into his chair as he watches his ward through heavy lidded eyes. Propped by his side a long staff, perhaps once a weapon, now more likely a crutch to support his thin legs... Between sips his head bobs involuntarily as he fights with sleep... Clearly the auld man's days of revelry are past him, though his devotion to the rake pushes him to stay at his side; :
Albrέkt also stands by his "master" - the lanky squire looking a little green around the gills... "Indeed some would share your misgivings on the crew sir, yet these Northerners know these waters and its hazards, and the presence of a Knight of Alerion is deterrent enough to their savagery!" :
Albrέkt uses his own circlet to assume the form of the youth he once was; a lanky squire to compliment Arthur's weathered knight. "Old skin. Toten skin..." The squire stoically casts his eyes upon the approaching patrol boat. |
