Mother's page

63 posts. Alias of baldwin the merciful.


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TO: Poke Poke, Dr. Tes, and Calain

Beware and have care or you will lose all your hair." the old crone bride incoherently rambles some curse at those remaining in Orctown.

Eventually there is final count of the deceased, "13 goblins, 7 orcs, 3 humans, 4 goblin dogs." Mother reports. "It's a sad day...but we will overcome."

Mother gets up and grab's Meath'ds hand, "Time to sleep." With that she will lead MeatH'd to their furs for the evening. Unless you have anything else you'd like to add.

There's an area you all can hunker down in for the evening. There are quite a few Orcs and goblins around the place and outside. To your eye, you see they have something of a watch, or job, duty.

What are you going to do?

"Hunting party go out three days ago...not come back. Not sure if hum'ns hunt 'em down."

Mother stands up and her fingers start to put the bones in an order that seems to make sense to her - only. She fishes out Nym's lone white hair and sees that it has shriveled a bit. A yellow toothy smirk comes across her face. Mumbling under her breath she says a few powerful words. Then in common, she makes the announcement: Which confuses Nym since he speaks undercommon.

"Nym Omriwin lives...t'morrow... but next day more cloudy....he lives but is covered in darkness soon. I see twilight and an eternally full moon with a second small'r moon hidden in the darkness." Her bushy brow lifts as she sits back down. She pats the back of his hand as if pitying him and his doomed future.

The bones are finally released and the bounce and hop all over the table. You swear one even tumbled onto a plate of gnawed on meat in front of the Mother. It's deathly quiet as the last bones stops rattling. The tempature seems to drop a few degrees as the hush remains. The bones have been cast...

The bones continue to rattle.

Mother continues to shake the bones in her hands...

The goblins continue to watch.

Her bony fingers begin to pick through the assorted bones. She picks one up and gnaws part of the dried meat from it then toss it back into the pile. Suddenly the ol'crone plucks one of Nym's white hairs and pulls it tight. She mumbles a few strange words under her breath. and she places the hair in the palm of her hand. With one fluid motion she scoops up the assorted bones and then she vigorously shakes them. For what seems like an eternity.

The old crone waves off Nym's last comment.

"No theys just stuupid."
She points at a few goblins.

"they talk and talk and talk and talk and talk and talk and talk and talk when everyone else talks."

She sniffs the air.

"I tell your fort'ne see if you live or die t'morrow...or next day."

She pulls out a ratty old sack and dumps the contents on the table. All the goblins go deathly quiet as the assorted bones fall out.

Anyone who wants to jump in and tell some stories or rely events feel free to do so.

Mother sits next to Nym.

"If you need woman...or boy, I git you one." She picks up some pork from her plate and shovels it in her mouth. "You fortunate to git out...will they hunt you?" She gulps some of her dark mead, the rich foam drips from her mouth and she wipes it with her arm. "You here long or go to Longshank city?"

"I've liv'd looong life. Me served ol'chieftain Daarog as his concubine and fortune tell'r." She smiles. "Stolen from first orc warrios after kilt by Daarog." She shrugs. "Strong survive...then ..." She waves to group. "...they crush and kill Daarog clan and freed those willing." She smiles and looks and the lumbering ogre as he continues his race to the group. "Me happy with Meath'd." She touches her belly.

"He guud for short in the dash." She smirks.

Mother, female orc, scurries up close to Nym and speaks,

"Ease yourself, no harm here. We all have run from a horrid past, but these...." She motions to your party, "guud people gave us hope. Hope to live free and t'geth'r."

She pauses a second or two then asks, "Where do you hail from...which house." She can't help herself "did you own many ...slaves?" She seems genuinely concerned about your potential answer. You can see her fingers are touching and rubbing what looks like a beaded necklace in her hands. You've seen enough spellcasters and you finger she's some sort of hag, druid, or witch.

Grungsdi wrote:
Who is mother?

"Me sweety...Meath'ds g'friend." a voice seems to have heard you as she steps out of the guardhouse by the front gate.

I forgot about meath'ds girlfriend. :-)

You clearly understand the old crone lives in this cell and she's being protective of her stuff. You suspect that the old lady is touched with insanity. The doll she has a a rough resemblance to you! But then again, you could just be paranoid with all the traps you've been through.

"Mine ...mine stuff." You understand that this is where she resides. It's her home. She rushes past everyone and snatches the doll up. He hands start to stroke the head as she crouches in the far corner of the cell.

Your scalp starts to inch.

What are you are going to do and which way are you heading.

The old lady slinks forward wide eyed, frantically looking from the door of the cell to Dragox. She points back to her chest. Her other palm is up and out in a nonthreatening manner. She is mouthing something but because of the silence spell you all inside the radius not.

" my home, this is my home." She crouches down and begins to hit her palm to to forehead. "Leave...leave, she will get you all." She cackles a bit then says, "Have good day!" Just as she picks a small crawling bug off the floor and she pops it in her mouth.

"NO, I...I...I can't go with you!"

Reyondelee wrote:
Can you tell us what truths are behind that door Ulzaada?

"DEATHHHHHHHHHHHHH! She snaps back. "Death lays behind those doors, cells of torture, a crypt and stone faces." She starts to slap her face and nod her head furiously. Then she ramps incoherently surely a sign of insanity after such a long time in isolation.

Ulzaada responds, "No secret to door...No...No...No secret." She begins to shake her head harder and harder. "Open door, then walk through." Her eyes squeeze shut. She begins to whimper. "You're the chosen, your choice walk through, no problem from me." Her voice rambles on a bit.

Once Sargon turns visible Ulzaada comes into view. "My confinement has been to a limited area." She spreads her arms wide to the pond room and the hallway you first came down. She then shows you her palm, "Torture both the mind and body with lonely confinement. Yes...Yes." She blinks rapidly. "There is a special passage to the cells through that wall. It's not trapped, I removed that horror eons ago."

"My Mistress was Tzolo and she supervised the construction of this tomb herself. You should know General how odd that is, to spend so much time with such as task, but Tzolo foresaw her glorious return to power."

Rey's hand swats at the air harmlessly as she tries to find her invisible companion. "Tis my curse and doom to be buried in a tomb, Lord Commander. I'm called 'Ulzaada". Watch over the pond that was what I ordered when I was condemned by my Mistress. It's hard to remember - now - what minor transgression I once committed but this is my curse."

As long as Sargon is invisible she shows not sign of turning visible herself.

"Songbird has strong words." There is a dramatic pause, "I've not threatened you, I have not come to you, you've come to me with iron, steel and spells. Killing everywhere you go." her voice cracks a bit, "Of course you can overpower these old bones but what you seek will be farther way, knowledge you will not have." She smirks at Sargon, her rotten teeth showing, "Kill me if you must then replace me in my tomb."

"Ahhh, but to survive in this tomb one must be 'a nasty type' or else you cease living." The voice responds. "So that's not a comforting statement proud man. It's not like I have much of choice being confined here."

Your detect evil does ping.

Sargon correct on both accounts.

In an aged voice that gurgles a bit from phlegm she responds to Sargon, ", How? are you here?" There seems to be a bit of confusion to her question. "Yes...why don't BOTH of us turn visible if you mean me no harm." She pauses a moment then asks, "Who are you?"

That this point only Sargon can see her but her voice carries for all to hear.

don't mind the name under the avatar picture that was from another game. The old lady looks something like the picture though.

When you are peering at the maps Mother glances at them, she grabs a hold of M'thead's thick fingers and squeezes hard as she speaks a prayer in orcish. In her broken common she comments. "Me knows this place the goblun's 'fraid of...guud to be 'fraid, great and bad evil there even fer me kin." She pauses and takes a deep breath. "The priests of Orcus erected a dark temple on the surface (near Wilderness Area 3), and installed a guardians and deathtraps beneath it to protect the rear when big retreat occur many many moons ago. Big sacrafice of many orcs, goblins, humans and other races to seal entrance below surface."

In interesting and challenging option.

To everyone's surprise and amusement Meath'd has found himself a girlfriend. Who seems just a tad overprotective of her prosperous mate.

"Good day to you all, I trust that you will be leaving very soon." It's more of statement than question. Several swarms cover her body as she walks away form the group towards her tree.

She turns and motions to Dogtogue who then bounces forward removing his crimson cap, "Been a real pleasure killin' wit ya, and much 'ppreciate that Madjaw affair."

"Oh, I was providing a warning and information about a trusted lieutenat, not an action plan. The guildhouse is large and will tax your resources. I suspect if you must rest, that the Shadow Lord's lieutenant will be sent out to find you." She shrugs, "Nidal could, for what it is worth, be in the guildhouse...that I do not know."

"The bond between Ecarrdian and Chammady is deep and together they form a formidable adversary, that even your group would have difficulty defeating." She looks over at Orsin then to Andrea, "The information that I have is a means to drive a wedge between Ecarrdian and Chammady Drovenge and possibly even turn them against
each other."
She pauses, "The great strength of the siblings is their devotion to each other — between Chammady’s guile and Ecarrdian’s prowess in combat, the two are nearly a perfect team."

"Yet if the you can sow seeds of anger between them, you’ll have a much easier time defeating the Council when the final battle for Westcrown begins. Unbeknownst to Sidonai Drovenge, when he willingly
swallowed the gold coin of Mammon gifted by the Flies, he voluntarily entered an infernal pact with the archdevil. The seal for that pact is Ecarrdian himself — the fruit of the pact’s execution. As a result, Ecarrdian’s very existence is a link to his infernal paternal father, embodying his very traits of lust and greed. The infernal pact created a connection between Ecarrdian and his closest familial tie."

She watches everyones reactions, "Well, Mammon had hoped
this tie would be with Sidonai himself, but the father’s vanishing prevented this bond from forming. Instead, Ecarrdian’s close relationship with his sister Chammady became that bond. As a result, Ecarrdian’s very existence is connected with that of his sister. With each personal success and increase in power by Ecarrdian, Chammady’s soul has become entwined further and further with Mammon’s,
such that if Ecarrdian truly comes to rule Westcrown, then Chammady’s soul will be eternally forfeit to exist as a lemure in the Infernal Court of Erebus, a plaything for Mammon’s every whim!"

"Chammady has great loyalty to her brother but this secret may change things if it were to be revealed, not even her filial ties to her tiefling halfbrother could overcome her desire to not succumb to such a fate—a fact that could very likely create an irreparable rift
between the siblings. 'And then,'”
the Mother says, "'things
should get very interesting.'
She goes on to state that, " Sidonai was given a copy of this infernal contract, though he never
bothered to really read it and the Mother doubts he ever understood its true ramifications, blinded as he was by his own ambition. Since Walcourt has been used as a repository of incriminating documents over the past several decades, chances are very good that a copy of this contract still exists somewhere within the manor, forgotten or simply
unsuspected by the building’s current caretakers."

"I suppose I don't really want to help," she cackles. "So, I'll simply provide you with a few items to prolong your miserable existence." With that she has a small chest brought forth that contains a dozen potions of cure serious wounds, a wand of restoration (14 charges), a wand of secret door detection (10 charges), and a scroll of resurrection.

"Mind you that Walcourt is a large place with several floors, filled with traps and numerous bad guys. It will be hard to finish in a day's time, if you need to retreat to rest fear for your safety, he will not rest idly by, he may even send out his Shadow Lord, known as Nihiloi, to hunt you down."

"Ilnerik has the ability to bring forth terrible night creatures from the plane of shadows, he has a nightstalker that is loyal to him." She pauses, [b]"The trinket Ilnerik carries equals the one you have in your possession. It's actually stronger than yours as it permits, it's vampire weilder to call forth the shadow beasts."

She grins, "Ilnerik is a mastermind, who does not have the ability to shapechange but rather he has a greater number of spawn under his control."

She does not answer the question regarding ever seeing Ilnerik.

Frank the Hedgehog wrote:

Frank sniffs, his ability to emote limitted. He'd rather eat some maggots, but he wouldn't tell the mother that.

"I am satisfied as I am. However, I cannot help but query as to the nature of the brew that granted me speech. Was that an intentional doing on your part?"

"Unexpected surprises tend to occur with my m'shroom tea." she waves his question away, "it'll pass soon 'nuff."

"As You can imagine the Council of Thieves maintains numerous secret guildhalls throughout Westcrown, but it is the one known as Walcourt that may house their greatest asset — control of the night." She looks Andrea in the eyes, "Yes, the shadowlord is their asset, and asset used to enrich themselves as they freely traveled, robbed and trafficed goods and people without fear from the dottari or Hellknights." She cackles joyfully, "They use fear of the evening to keep folks inside while they conducted business as they deemed fit....near genius"

"Now Walcourt is located at the eastern edge of Rego Laina, not far from the Trivardum itself in a former guild lodge once dedicated to followers of Founder Crucisal. This complex was abandoned shortly after Aroden’s death and the degradation of Rego Crua and never repatriated by
the church of Iomedae in the increasingly hostile clime of Cheliax during its political upheavals."
She stares at the paladin, "Your own goddess failed there...she was Aroden's chosen, wasn't she." More of staetment than a question as she makes a point to needle the holy warrior.

She continues, "Falling into ruin over the years, Walcourt was used briefly as an orphanage and then later as a flophouse — both secretly serving as fronts for the activities of the Council of Thieves and overseen by none other than Sidonai Drovenge, the father of the siblings
currently in charge of the Council."

My agents have gathered reliable information that leads me to believe that Walcourt has been given over to serve as the lair of one of the Council’s most dangerous leaders — and one of the greatest allies of the Drovenge siblings — a mysterious figure most of the Council knows only as the 'Lord of Shadows.'" She waits for this information to really sink in with the party as she sips her tea. "According to my research, this Lord of Shadows controls the movements and actions of the shadow beasts that plague Westcrown’s nights, and the fact that he’s been allied all this time with the Drovenges explains a lot as to how they and their treacherous allies
could move about the city unseen and uncontested at night."

"Your Ilnerik should be there and maybe you'll get lucky enough to get one of the siblings."

"Would you like a few snails to feast upon?" She teases the hedgehodge, "I'm sure I can find you a couple." She is seemingly please with the new alliance.

"Yes, a chance to help Westcrown...deary."

She turns back to Orsin, "So tell me about your infernal is your concern?" She grins in anticipation.

I know your offline today Orsin, we can RP this out when you get back online as flextime.

She simply nods at Gerard's statement.

'Eumphemia...Frank, what say ye."

'Well that depends on the infernal bargain the individual seeks to skirt around, why do you beat around the bush?" She smiles, "Before you go push that issue forward, do you agree to the COT deal like Andrea and Daniel?'

'I seek a simple, very short term, and matter specific bargain young man. I'll provide you information and a few items, in return you kill our mutual enemy." She looks the paladin. "no double-cross or hidden meaning...we all get what we desire in the end." She smiles sweetly at the half-orc.

She then looks around, "So Daniel and Andrea have agreed to the terms. Euphemia hasn't quite indicated, nor Frank."

She reaches over and touches the back of Orsin's hand and it feels like tiny tentacles are tinkling him, "Cutey has not agreed to the task at hand but has another matter to discuss."

Finally her eyes fall on Gerard, "Observant Gerard has yet to agree or say much of anything."

Mother's ears perk up when the charming bard speaks, "Hmmmm, depends on the bargain and well," long pregnant pause, "the price a person is willing to pay for that knowledge." A toad jumps out of her hair and lands on the ground, then begins to hop away.

Mother stares at Euphemia, "You know the boundary and the tribute required, your business can before." She gives you a broad brownish green smile.

"And the rest of you are you agreeable? I can provide you useful information disclosing their secret guild-house, some special gear that could be useful during your venture, and a secret of such magnitude that it should forever destroy Ecarrdian and Chammady Drovenge and that special sibling bond they share." He black eyes meet each and every adventurer, including Frank.

"I know where the one your looking for resides in the city. Yes, you can end the shadows....FOREVER!"

There is not even the slightest hint of remorse in her demeanor and tone for what has been done or the deeds to be done.

"I am aware that you have your own reasons for pursuing the Council of Thieves, perhaps it's to take it over and rule for yourselves," She looks at Gerard and shrugs nonchalantly, "or maybe, it is to make Westcrown a better place, it matters not to me." She flicks her wrist and flies buzz for a moment then resettle in her hair. "I merely want the Drovenges dead - brother and sister. That ungrateful bastard, Ecarrdian, attacks the person who brought him forth in this world in order to hide his little devilish secret." She spits and sizable acid splash hits the ground. "We are not friend, nor are we enemies, I will not doublecross you and I expect the same consideration. You are obviously capable individuals and, in fact, after this we should not have any further dealings, as long as they agree to defeat the current leaders of the Council."

Speaking to Frank. "We still have time my needled guest."

Then without pausing she begins, with a little history...

"The Flies have been a part of Hagwood for as long as anyone can remember—long enough that the scattered and sodden woodlands within which we have made our home have became known as Hagwood. We were far enough from Westcrown that we weren’t considered a major threat, yet close enough to remain a constant menace in folktales and bedtime stories."

"There were once three of us "hags" (the Mother, the Sister, and the Daughter) and for years we played upon the fringes of Wiscrani society, working our nefarious plots for our own unknowable ends beneath the noses of the government of arguably Avistan’s most powerful kingdom."

"When that fool Aroden died, it had no real impact on our lives and insulated positions—save perhaps in making it easier than ever to prowl the streets of Westcrown to further our needs." She cackles evilly.

"You know, since the rise of House Thrune, we Flies have maintained our fastness at the aptly named Maggot Tree in the heart of Hagwood, where we did our "own"thing. Then Sidonai Drovenge approached in 4686 AR
seeking an infernal heir, we Flies cackled with glee. From the depths of Erebus, we procured a coin from the archdevil Mammon’s own treasury that, if swallowed within 24 hours of his heir’s conception, would impart the power of that duke of Hell upon Sidonai’s offspring."

"Of course, the vain noble fool didn't heed the warnings, nor read the fine print. Sidonai Drovenge by accepting this potent gift, he was cuckolding himself—the coin in fact held the possessing spirit of Mammon, and the heir would not be Sidonai’s but Mammon’s own son, begat upon the world through a mortal coupling."

"When Sidonai’s son was born a fiendish freak 9 months later, Sidonai’s father Vassindio flew into a terrific rage. He ordered the deaths of all involved—midwives and house staff alike. The hapless mother having escaped this fate by dying herself from complications in birthing the infernal heir. Poor weak little soul. While Vassindio tempered his rage when it came to his son, he only exiled him rather than having him executed. Regrettably my family did not escape his wrath."

"Of the three green hags, only me, the Mother of Flies survived, because I was away when Vassindio’s forces stormed Hagwood with a deadly combination of fire, assassins, and charmed giants and fey. I learned of Vassindio’s rage and, nursing my own grudge against the Drovenges for the deaths of my sister and daughter, then I relocated deeper into Hagwood and began the process creating a new Maggot Tree."

"I set out on the slow process of thoroughly learning about my foe — Vassindio Drovenge, de facto leader of the Council of Thieves — and the many secrets of his criminal order. We have a common enemy, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

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