Sacerdos e'Niihl's page

Sacerdos completes the task of securing the two sarcophagus to the cargo deck. Over near the wall he grabs up the gear and cloak he'd lay aside so he could help the crew directly. Fir'umil is there, leaning against the wall, his own inspections of the vessels' integrity finished.

"Nothing to report, Inquisitor." he responds to Sacerdos' raised eyebrow. "The seals remain undisturbed."

Sacerdos raises his head from his satchel where he was inspecting the contents. The kukri still remains, wrapped safely in an oil cloth, likewise undisturbed. "Good," he finishes belting on his sword and throws his cloak and satchel over a shoulder. "Thank you for being so diligent."

"You leave no room for equivocation." the wizard responds flatly. His keen elvish eyes are looking upwards to the decks above, probably eager to be in the open air.

"Hmmm."

Fir'umil's eyes land upon Sacerdos. "Not that I am offended, mind you."

"I wasn't apologizing. I will not let my remaining brothers to fall to evil."

"In either case," Fir'umil shrugs and searches for a clear path to the ladder stairs leading back up. "Direct is preferred."

Sacerdos nods to the port side and the stairs leading out. The wizard follows, staff thumping along his progress.

Soon they are on deck, standing near Mal'undil and Karthan who are watching as the burning and breaking ship of horrors is gasping her last breath of life.

"I'm in agreement. We should burn this place." Sacerdos eyes the objects on the desk as well. "There are some useful items here, especially information that could be useful in tracking this man's brother down in Absalom."

"My book studies were few, Mistress. But at mention of the Umbilicals... the Tapestry... These are ancient terms. Things spoken of rarely by priests of my order, Lord Ragathiel's bent is towards war." Sacerdos frowns and sheaths his sword. "There are stories of a cleric from Magnimar, one of the first of my order, he hunted a demon-bound wizard into Ustalav. This wizard was part of a group worshipping a Chaos-spawn. Some of their practices made mention of an infinite Tapestry. "

"Was there not mention of a brother in the captain's journal?" Sacerdos adds, not quite at ease to sheathe his weapon. He strides over to begin inspecting the objects lying around, steering clear of the machinery holding the dead creature's body in place. "Perhaps we should pay a visit to this brother of his. See if he is the fool who did the calling."

Sacerdos resists the urge to charge the fiend before him. Despite the nature that seems to ooze from its very being, the inquisitor feels pity for it.

"I do not," he responds. At his hip, Knighteye is eager to be drawn. "It is Chaos-borne, that much I can sense. But these words it seems to pour into our minds...lunacy."

"Things of this nature, they are birthed out of Chaos. Madness is in their nature when it comes to dealing with beings of this plane. What little I know of them..." he shakes his head. "...what we fought out on deck, this thing... I'm at the limits of my scholarly studies and personal experience."

Sacerdos sheathes his weapon, brows creasing as he stares at the thin sliver of darkness created by the wardrobe's doors.

"There is much we can learn about our foes. While my duty is to the priests being raised from the hold, my sacred duty is to learn my enemies and thwart them at every turn." The Inquisitor rolls his head and cracks his neck. "I will join you if it is your wish to follow your cousin."

Sacerdos inclines his chin in gratitude. "Good news indeed, Zandra. But our mystery deepens with the discovery of the captain's log. And a potential link to what went wrong on this vessel."

"Hmm, let me see.." He alters his focus to the look under the fibers of the mahogany wardrobe, looking into the flows of mana. "Yes, there is something within the wardrobe...no, some things...five items..." Sacerdos' eyes narrow as he focuses his will into what he's seeing...

Spellcraft (1): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23
Spellcraft (2): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
Spellcraft (3): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Spellcraft (4): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
Spellcraft (5): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
Oooo, nice rolls

"Three items, garments maybe? Perhaps a wand of some sort?" He steps forward, a bit of boldness in his step as he reaches for the door and opens it. He taps the locking mechanism on the door. "Mal'undil, you're skill was able to surpass the trap worked into this lock. A necromantic spell of some sort..." He gives the other half-elf an incline of respect.

He surveys the interior, exposing it to the minute amount of light in the room. Along the side shelves of the wardrobe are several leather satchels and a box-like shape covered by a velvet cloth. Under the cloth is a set of 6 gold bars. Behind him, Mal whistles.

But there are other items that draw the Inquisitor's attention. A pair of boots, a cloak hung among a few changes of clothes, and a small wooden case. The last he draws forth. He weighs it and sets it aside on the desk behind him. "The boots are magical, as is this cloak and the box there contains a magical implement of some sort. A wand perhaps."

But all of these he leaves behind for something in the back of the wardrobe.
Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (15) + 12 = 27
Feeling along the back of the wardrobe with his free hand, he feels the seem of a secret door. He stands back and looks to the others. "There is a hidden door at the back of the wardrobe. I'm detecting the strongest aura of magic from it. A conjuration has been placed upon it."

He stands aside and awaits Karthan's response.

Sarcedos draws dagger, the cramped quarters in which they stood would be too tight to wield Knighteye effectively. "A demon you fear?" It's not an accusation in the Inquisitor's tone, but a question.

He touches a hand to his holy symbol and calls upon Ragathiel to give light to his eyes. Casts Detect Chaos After a moment of searching, his eyes open where he finds them resting upon the wardrobe.

"There. I sense something through those doors, but the distance does not reconcile." His frown deepens. "As though it is several feet beyond the opening of the cabinet."

Sacerdos begins looking thru the desk drawers.

"Hey, maybe we should wait for the rest before we start opening things in here." Mal warns.

"We will need the ship's manifest to know the crew." He responds.with the sharpness of a blade.

The rogue looks a bit offended, arms unfolding as he stands up straight. But any retort dies on his lips at a look from the Inquisitor.

Then there is a clicking sound, drawing all their attention to the wardrobe. One of the doors clicks free of the lock Mal'undil had sprung, drifting open a few inches on well oiled hinges.

"My brethren chose suicide over fighting? What manner of evil...?" Sacerdos is troubled, it's plain on his normally stoic face. "But it may explain some of it if they were afraid of possession. They would have held the keys to the sarcophagi, bound to their blood. To prevent the caskets from being opened..." He trails off, thinking of what had happened out on deck.

"Do not mistake, Mistress. The remaining sarcophagus are intact and still bear my brethren. The holy seals there are unbroken." He grasps the amulet about his neck, the symbol of a sword and wing. "If the great lord is willing, we will see Windsinger Onura's sails soon. Then we can off load them to her ship."

The inquisitor sighs heavily. "I hear your words, mistress. In the name of preserving life, should it come to it, I can access the vessels and see that they are...destroyed."

Assuming you're not heading to the captain's quarters until Sacerdos returns.

He leaps up from the tallest stack of crates and grabs hold of the edge of the cargo hold doors, hauling himself up onto deck. "One of the sarcophagus was opened, the priest's body broken open like a thing out of nightmare." Sacerdos announces, a grim aura darkening his countenance. "I fear your observation is true, Zandra."

After a pause, he touches the satchel at his side that contains the kukri. "What that does to the man's soul bound in this infernal weapon, I dare not guess."

"Only two?" The Inquisitor looks down at the mass of slime flesh and his brow furrows and his anger stirs within his guts. His right hand opens and closes, searching for the hilt of Knighteye of its own accord.

The rogue steps forward into the group's midst. "Easy, Sacerdos. Let's not be too hasty..." Mal'undil attempts to soothe.

I deem you a comrade in arms, former thief, but you don't speak for my dedication to the brethren... His eyes turn to Zandra, narrowing somewhat. "Your theory will need to be tested...I pray to the great Lord Ragathiel you're wrong."

He strides to towards the aft deck, passing by the rails to grab up one of the cargo levers. Then he makes his way to the portside cargo door next to the mizzen mast. "Perhaps a direct route to the cargo hold will prove easier."

Strength: 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 2 + 1 = 22

With a mighty, anger-fueled heave, the Inquisitor of Ragathiel opens the door to the cargo hold. Emitting from the dark interior is a musty, fungal smell that the party has unfortunately become accustomed to with the existence of the putrid, fallen enemy on the deck. It's obvious the creature had taken up residence in the hold, using the Lydia's Wake as a personal shelter upon the open seas.

Along with the musty smell is the smell of sea water. It's presence reminds the Inquisitor that the ship is sinking, slowly to be sure, but sinking nonetheless. "We are on limited time, remember the ship's condition." Sacerdos warns, then prays to his Lord for insight into the area below. Casts Detect Chaos

After a moment, he nods, satisfied. "I don't sense any more of the vile taint of that creature down below..." But he lets the blessing continue to flow for a few moments. Soon, Ragathiel's guidance directs his attention to the forecastle...the captain's quarters to be more specific. As the Inquisitor crouches over the opening to the hold, he points towards the forecastle. "But I do detect some residual elements coming from the captain's quarters, like smoke coming from a snuffed out pipe."

He grinds his teeth at the two options. "I must go below and find out what has become of my brethren. I can do this alone. Go and investigate the captain's quarters."

With that, the Inquisitor draws Knighteye and jumps into the hold as soon as his he spots a set of crates onto which he can land.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16

He lands steadily, even as the ship gives a bit of a lurch from a larger wave. Then the half-elven disciple of an Empyreal Lord drops in further and disappears into the darkness.

Sacerdos grabs the wizard, yanking hard on the elf's shoulder to cause him to hopefully lose the spell as the Inquisitor calls upon the will of Ragathiel to break the control over Fir'umil's mind. Casting Protection from Chaos

"Fir'umil Osseus, free yourself from this horror, grant us the same protections!!"

Initiative - Round 7
Sacerdos 24
Thor 19 (*)Tiny Statue
Good Crew (x2) 15 Confused
Zandra 14
Croaker 14 HP 21/46 Confused
Mal'undil 14 HP 35/46
Karthan 13 HP 15/22 | Earth Skin Confused
Fir'umil 13
Mound of Horror 3

Sword Attack:: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
Damage:: 1d1 + 4 + 2d6 ⇒ (1) + 4 + (5, 4) = 14

Sacerdos is taken by surprise at the ferocity of the creature's attack, causing his blade to miss the mark.

Initiative - Round 6
Sacerdos 24 HP 26/36
Thor 19 (*)Tiny Statue
Good Crew (x2) 15
Zandra 14
Croaker 14
Mal'undil 14 HP 35/46
Karthan 13 HP 15/22
Fir'umil 13
Mound of Horror 3

At 24
Sacerdos bites down on the pain and strikes once more...
Sword Attack: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
Damage: 1d10 + 4 + 2d6 ⇒ (6) + 4 + (2, 3) = 15

...once again, Knighteye cuts into the rubbery, glistening skin of the foul creature.

At 15
Both crewmen turn and run for the Ballistas.

Zandra up!! Map Updated!!

"You speak correctly." Sacerdos studies the elf for a few moments and draws several conclusions. "Dismiss your distractions, Dawnsetter. None of what happens over the next few hours should involve impressing the captain." He offers a slight grin, but it never touches the hard edges of his eyes. "I'm wedded to my duty, ranger, but I am not blind. Dismiss your distractions, and if you are to lead, then lead."

He turns away and grasps the door. "Alert me when we are ready to board. I will be praying to the Great Lord for our success." And with that he closes the door.

"They had been captured in the dead of night, stolen from their respective locations in the city." He paused long enough to see the dwarf Stoneanchor departing the temple along with the human Coor. They would be departing soon and he had every intention of departing with them to ensure their preparations were swift and effective.

Sacerdos turned to continue his walk to the carriage, motioning for Karthan to fall in step beside him. "When they were eventually found, they'd each been beaten and subjected to torture. We killed all we could find who had been responsible save for the Varisian dancer who escaped with the kukri. Later that night, our priests commenced cleansing rights for the victims."

"I would like to say that if there were any taint left within them save for the anchor of their souls...that our clerics and oracles were able to cleanse them. But the level of magics and evil ritual required, who's to say." Sacerdos hated to admit a failing, but was there any way to truly be sure? "If it comes to their bodies being given over to whatever occurred on this ship...if they are responsible for some seaborne calamity...then I vow on my hope of salvation I will see them destroyed. They would want nothing less."

Sacerdos spun on his heels and waited for the ranger to approach. He settled himself a bit, knowing that Karthan was coming along for the journey. Another competent warrior along with Olivia was welcome. The Inquisitor had little knowledge of this Onura, but judging by the way she was ordering about her groomsmen, she seemed competent as well. "Good, I'll be happy to have your bow."

"I know little of the vessel itself. It sails regularly on this route, Absalom being the normal stop on its way to points south of here." Sacerdos offered. "The ship is captained by a Vossian Velsurian, a collector and merchant of some sort. His crew numbers roughly 15 or 16, Stoneanchor was uncertain simply because they may have picked up or lost some crew members along their journey."

There was an element that bothered him, something that had been nagging at the back of his mind. "When I departed Magnimar, my order had been hard pressed to find a ship willing to travel this far and willing to bring along three..." He paused and ground his teeth. "...once these boatmen learned they would be hired to carry 3 clerics held in state...within sarcophagi...they almost to the one, balked at the request. Finding out that they were eventually successful gives me pause. Namely, what type of person did they find? Dutiful captain? Or a cad?"

Sacerdos spoke simply and brusquely. "I am prepared to depart now. If you are attending, I suggest you gather what supplies you require and meet me at the docks."

With that, he swung away from the group and headed for the carriage where Onura was preparing for departure. His irritation was not with any of the party, but he was in line now with his original mission to aid his brethren. With that in sight, he was javelin loaded in a ballista, ready for firing.

The Inquisitor folded his arms across his chest and considered the elves’ words. He closed his eyes and prayed. Lord, give me the insight I desire to see your will done. Allow me the clarity of vision to see the battlefield and to recognize the weapons you’ve placed before me. Instill in me the confidence I cannot manifest to proceed down this path. Or place your mighty hand before my feet and correct my steps.

After a moment, he felt a peaceful grimness settle the twisting storms that had formed in his abdomen. ”Very well. Let us return to the temple, meet with these Harbormasters, then gain access to my brethren. I am in agreement with Karthan that this may be the safest place to bring them.” Sacerdos turned his gaze to Zandra. ”I will set aside my sense of doubt and follow this path. Who am I to doubt the ability of so great a wizard? Who am I to doubt the will of my Lord?”

Sacerdos stared after the departing wizards and gritted his teeth. "I am to trust the fate of my brethren to him?"

He stood from the table, adjusting Knighteye on his hip and allowing his grey and red cloak to drape over the hilt. "Perhaps I was mistaken. There is no doubting the old man's power, but I sense he barely clings to his sanity." He thought for a moment and then shook his head. "Perhaps there is a path Lord Ragathiel showed me along my way to this point that I missed. I have a hard time believing that His will led me to this man."

”హార్ట్ యొక్క ఆశ్రయం.” He said, pulling aside his red and grey tunic so the armor could be more clearly seen.

”A gift from Netril Oakleaf, an elven artificer of unequaled genius.” A grave tone settled into his voice. ”Ragathiel and Erastil shelter his eternal soul. He and his companions fought alongside the Knights of Ozem at the Worldwound. They fight still, but Netril’s fight is long over, some twenty years now.”

A wrap on the armor and Sacerdos returned his tunic to rights. ”I, my commander and two paladins held off a group of hobgoblins and a demon while Netril went about repairing a siege engine outside the gates of a Demon Lord’s fortifications. When we knew the end was near, my commander charged me with forcibly removing Netril from the area while he and the others covered our escape.” There was no sense of grand accomplishment in his tone. In fact, it appeared the memory conjured pain and regret. ”I did my duty and from that day, Netril and I were close friends, like brothers. He was the first elf I’d met who had not looked down upon my split heritage.”

”Many years after Netril Oakleaf fell during a sortie from Castle Everstand, his apprentice found me and presented me with this armor. The only message was its name; Heart’s Shelter.’

There was more to tell, but Sacerdos held back what was clearly a personal matter. In the Inquisitor’s life, there were many things he held dear. The the truths that made him a man after his Lord’s heart. Some excelled in holding these deep truths out for the world to see and judge and handle, but Sacerdos would never share these things with anyone...anyone save for the woman in Magnimar that held his heart. She was the only person save for Ragathiel himself that truly knew the inner recesses of the half-elven Inquisitor.

With this Ring...

Sacerdos’ smile was an honest but terrifying thing. A man such as he, the roads he’d traveled, did not lend his face a countenance of happiness. The Inquisitor reached inside his shoulder satchel and retrieved a metal flask, bound in hardened leather. ”You have an eye for blades, Dawnsetter.” He handed the flask to the elven ranger, gesturing that he should take it.

”Holy water. Take that ring off and rinse that vile creature’s blood from it.” He cocked his head towards the open carriage window.

Karthan took the flask and both he and his sister noticed that Sacerdos’ left hand bore two rings. One had the look of Mithral while the other looked to be of platinum. Both were emblazoned with the sigil of Ragathiel; an open wing set with a bastard sword. This close to the Inquisitor, it is apparent that his breastplate is also Mithral.

Sacerdos sat back in his seat and sighed, looking out the carriage window on his side. ”I inquired about the blade after our battle in Copperwood. Adamantine, she said. A gift from her father upon her assignment to the Chaplain-Protectors.”

Assuming Karthan does clean his new ring...

After Karthan handed back his flask, Sacerdos replaced it in his satchel and adjusted himself in the carriage seat. With the tiger in place between them on the floorboard, it was cramped quarters. The half-elf Inquisitor unbuckled his sword belt and leaned it against the carriage wall, near to hand.

He pointed to the ring now replaced on Karthan's finger. "A fine prize, that. Useful on and off the battlefield, I'd wager. Capable of blending in to your surroundings and also of creating disguises."

Now Seating for all Departures...
Sacerdos’ jaw clenched and unclenched. In all the discussion there were only two thoughts in his mind; burn the filthy Dhampir’s hellspawned body and his eagerness to move onwards to interviewing Tabir the Grey.

But the bard’s words rested in the back of the Inquisitor’s mind like a mill stone. Not for the first time, he wondered at just how much elven blood was within him that he had no insight into the ways of the elves. Chiefly inscribed upon the mill stone was why they would want to allow the Rook to continue breathing? A sneer drew at his lip like a fish hook. Subtle manipulations on the tangled lives of what they considered their lessers... For the most part, Sacerdos was happy to be mostly human. He had less appreciation for such things and that was just fine with him.

Sacerdos shifted his mind away from the topic before his anger stirred much further. The Inquisitor surveyed the grounds, pacing away from the sibling elves. South of their spot near the gate were the stables and his horse. Part of him wanted to bring his longtime friend despite the wizard’s warnings. But he would show the proper respect as he was a guest at their mercies.

As he watched, the bard’s manservant emerged with the carriage, Fir’umil trudging alongside holding a handkerchief to his face as the carriage kicked up dust.

”It appears we’re leaving...” Sacerdos announced to the elves.

Once the carriage was near, he opened the door and stood aside for them to board, him going last behind the three elves and the tiger.

They traveled north, the morning over Absalom still only in its 9th hour. The marine layer still clinging to the skies and giving the streets outside the temple a cold, clammy feeling.

I’ve got Karthan, Zandra, Thor, Fir’umil and Sacerdos in the carriage. Hindre driving. I’ll pause here in case you had more conversation before we arrive at the Arcanamarium or if you want to shoot a few more questions Caleb’s way. (I can always bring him back and repost the departure.

"My guess is he had infiltrators amongst the crowds earlier that worked their way into the grounds. Then he used that ring to assume the identity of the first Acolyte who aided us. That was the Rook in disguise."

The Inquisitor slipped his blade in a flourish back into his scabbard. "We have accomplished what should have been done earlier. The Rook and his ilk should not have been allowed to live. I should have pressed harder when we captured him. My Lord Ragathiel would have wanted it that way...no prisoners."

Coming from the Temple steps, Liberios was directing clerics to deal with the wounded.

...still more to come.

Sacerdos prepared to answer the elf’s question, but watched as instead he nearly doubled over in pain. Out of instinct, the Inquisitor leaped to his side and cast Protection from Evil. ”Foul influences, know your betters and flee from my sight!!” Karthan Will Save: 1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 3 + 2 = 20

”Easy friend...rest easy...” He waved off the look of concern from the she-elf. ”Do not let his influence trouble you further, Dawnsetter. Him or his beast. Both will see the end of their existences soon enough.”

The Inquisitor signaled for one of the clerics to bring over a pair of camp chairs so he and Karthan could sit alongside the cart where Zandra worked her magics upon the tortured family. He pulled a waterskin from a sling over his shoulder, the leather surface still held some of the smokiness of the fire earlier in the morning. ”Drink, Karthan...Hold to your anger, but do not let it consume your soul. Drink and feel refreshed.” He handed over the waterskin.

”It wasn’t so long ago I nearly sold my soul to evil...but mighty Ragathiel saw to it I was brought bowing and scraping to death’s door and shown the vile blood coursing in my veins. I saw it spilled upon the hard ground of the north...” Sacerdos could feel the wound in his belly just as surely as it’d occurred that day. He looked at Karthan and rested a hand on the elf’s shoulder. ”We all come to wisdom differently. I honor the path you must take, but I hope you don’t mind if I lift you up in my daily prayers that you come to your wisdom via a less painful road than mine.”

”You asked why I didn’t behead the Rook? Why after his blade was sundered I or Chaplain Duneheim did not lay him low?” Sacerdos smiled towards Olivia who’d gone to speak with Mal’undil and the portly fellow. ”Her wisdom. She thinks by involving those in power in Absalom in the conviction of the Rook and his cohorts, they will be forced to allow the Temple paladins here to become deeper entrenched in the protection of the citizens. And free them up to take the fight to criminals more openly. Whatever the outcome, she and I will ensure the number of breaths remaining to the Rook can be counted in our presence.”

He glanced across the courtyard as the creature and his two minions were taken into a doorway leading to the basement of the temple. The Inquisitor shrugged. ”To his credit, the creature did not beg for mercy. He fought well, but ultimately Iomedae and Ragathiel saw to our victory. As for his beast, it fled into the shadows in the corner of the room and a secret door. I know it carries one of my blessed daggers in its back, but none other wounded it.”

"Such is the nature of evil, Dawnsetter." Sacerdos responded in elven. He folded his arms and led then away from the cart. "When set against the standards of divine judgment,the rule of worldly law or the law of darkness will always be revealed. This I've witnessed in my own soul. It is why I serve at the pleasure of my Lord. It is why I will fight it all the days remaining in my life."

Sacerdos sensed the anger in the elven ranger. It was an emotion the Inquisitor knew all too well.

Sacerdos watched the Chaplain Lord descend the stairs from the dais and nodded respect to the aged paladin. ”I’d give my sword arm to have that man back at the Worldwound.” He said to himself. ”But I think his place is here, his time is now.”

The elven ranger returned from the dais and stood alongside Sacerdos, eyes taking a bit longer than they should have to leave the demon creature as it was being taken to its holding cell. Hopefully that creature will be deposited into a cell exposed to the sun...

”Χαιρετισμούς, Dawnsetters, ο ήλιος λάμπει επάνω σας και σας βλέπει με ασφάλεια μπροστά στα μάτια μου, για μια ακόμη φορά.”

”Sacerdos, where are the Rook’s weapons? I would like to study them sometime. They are of interest to me.”

A gesture from the Inquisitor signaled for Karthan and his sister to fall in with him as he approached another cart being addressed by three clerics. ”The villain’s implements are over here...”

Karthan followed him and continued. ”Now, of larger interest to you, my cousin who is an apprentice to the Grey is here with me. Come, I shall introduce you.”

”A moment, ranger.” Sacerdos greeted the clerics seeing to the cart the raid members had acquired after the combat had finished. Inside the cart were two more clerics working their healing arts upon a family who they’d found in the Toiling Gent’s dungeons.

”How do they fair, Robier?” Sacerdos asked one of the clerics outside the cart.

Robier, a willowy-thin man of Andoran shook his head grimly, a lock of blond hair falling in his face. ”They will never see again,” he whispered closely enough so that only Sacerdos and the siblings could overhear. ”They must have put waxing mixtures in their eyes, fogging them enough so they would only see shadows if anyone approached them. Made the fear they were under all the more terrible.”

Sacerdos turned back to Karthan and Zandra. ”A few we questioned at the site said this family, the father owed the Rook some coin, refused to pay. This guy’s hard headed from what the folks said. So the creature brought him and his family in and sent them down to the basement. No further questions, just swift justice for non-payment. Must have been the principal because this guy only owed the Rook 10 golds...”

He turned away from the two elves and pointed towards a rucksack at the middle of the cart. ”Mind if I retrieve that?” he asked Robier.

The thin cleric only shrugged, a deep sadness in his bearing.

Sacerdos climbed into the cart and deftly stepped around the other clerics as they ministered to the family. He grabbed up the rucksack and extricated himself. The bundle went to the ground between himself and Karthan and Zandra. His hand rested on the hilt of his bastard sword at his hip. ”Knighteye sundered the creatures main blade, plus the sheen isn’t as lustrous due to an adverse reaction to a cleric’s dousing of holy water.”

He didn’t say anything else on the topic. Instead, he hooked his thumbs behind his belt. At the least, he could keep his feelings of revulsion to himself. Anyone who’d willingly consort with a demon such as this Rook deserved their fate. But the Inquisitor had a feeling that Karthan hadn’t known the depths of the creature’s depravity.

”I’d appreciate an introduction to your relative if he can see to it I meet the Grey. I received word by raven that the ship bearing the clerics of my order left Almas three days ago.” He looked out to the crowd and saw another elf garbed in dark blue robes, leaning on a staff of master quality. A wizard if Sacerdos didn’t miss his guess. And a relative to the two elves before him if he didn’t miss another.

Alongside the wizard stood two other men and Olivia Duneheim. One he recognized as Mal’undil, but the portly human was unfamiliar. Oddly enough, studying the grouping, Sacerdos judged that the rotund man of elder years moved with the air of one not to be underestimated. In fact, he judged he was the most dangerous of the bunch.

"Indeed." Sacerdos leaned down and hefted his saddlebags. Over the shoulder of the elf maiden a squire signaled to him. Earlier he'd requested a room in which he could bed down for a few hours. "I'll see to my own needs now, mistress. If you'll be so kind, when Karthan Dawnsetter arrives, and you've put to bed what lay between you two, let me know what you can do to aid me in seeking an audience with the wizard Tabir. The ship bearing the men of my order will be arriving in a few days, I'd like to have already spoken with him."

With that, the Inquisitor strode past the the individuals; the paladin, the druid (for that was his best guess of the elf) and the tiger. The squire turned and beckoned him to follow towards one of the trainee barracks. Sacerdos didn't care. He'd acquire his rest and then hopefully be about his business on the morrow.

Sacerdos sniffed derisively. “Workings? It is organized scum in that place with this Rook at the head. It should be burned out and those involved purged. Perhaps Karthan is the tip of the spear through which we can speed their ends.”

He leaned down, offering a hand to the Paladin of Iomedae. “Stand, Chaplain-Protector Olivia Duneheim. For that is what your friend did. You honor him by doing nothing less.”

“Well said, Inquisitor…” she stood, taking his offered hand as she wiped away tears.

“This Rook is a part of a larger infection. There are others of similar status who use the Toiling Gent as their operation center. They carve up the different areas of this city into districts they would control.” He folded his arms and spat upon the ground. “You can remove them, but there will always be others to take their place. Better to find who controls all of them, create instability and let them destroy themselves as evil is so wont to do. Karthan, well he has an untrustworthy ally in the Rook. And with Kreig dead, he will be safer at the Toiling Gent than most.”

"Impressive, my lady." Sacerdos closed his eyes and nodded respectfully. "There are not many outside the north or the service of Iomedae who know even the smallest scraps of information regarding my Empyreal Lord. But keep in mind, it was not his actions that earned him the path of Heaven, it was grace given by the almighty Lord of Heaven that granted him his path."

Sacerdos patted his sword with reverence. "Much the same way I reached a turning point in my life and Lord Ragathiel redeemed my wayward soul for service in the War."

"As for the Chaos-tainted kukri, if indeed the blade can be purged without destroying it utterly, then of course Karthan is welcome to his trophy."

"And his visit to the Rook?" The Paladin put in.

"It is not my place to disclose this, but I am honor-bound to answer your questions." Sacerdos took a deep breath exhaled. Had it been men, he would have simply delivered the information. But with women...he was at times uncertain on how to guide the horse of his conversation around their delicate patches of sensitivities. Mostly, he just didn't have patience for it. In the end he avoided the snares of the opposite sex by simply avoiding them as much as possible. Lord, help guard my tongue with propriety...

"As I said earlier, my investigation brought me here to Absalom, pursuing the owner of the kukri - a growing criminal figure named Sebastian who had bested the previous owner of the blade. Lord Ragathiel was kind in my swift locating of Sebastian, the one you call the Rook, at his base of operations in Copperwood. Over the course of a month I discovered that another person, a Varisian dancer named Claire was also at the location. She was part of the cult in Magnimar, in fact she was part of the reason the original Taldori noble who designed the kukri was killed.”

Minimize, Sacerdos. Women are not as invested in the details as they are on the impressions…

“I was patient, being new to Absalom meant I had to learn the lay of the land. This provided fruit when I saw that the Rook had gifted the cursed blade to the dancer. Not long after that, you and Karthan and Mal’undil and the monk Lau arrived at the Toiling Gent following up with your own investigation.” There was a twinge of regret again as he mentioned the monk’s name. Sacerdos felt responsible, honor binding him to a debt to the monk’s companions…

“You were in Copperwood when we were there?” the Paladin questioned. “Why didn’t you make yourself known to us? Why the secrecy?”

“I do not answer to you or your church, Chaplain-Protector. My life is to my Lord, my duty is to the three clerics whose souls remain incarcerated.” He calmed himself before he became too prickly. Sacerdos had spent so much time working independently, he bristled at questions. “I continued observing, curious if you were somehow connected to my own mission. At first, I thought not. But then you gave chase to the troupe of musicians… My plan had been to extricate myself from the tavern and join you in pursuit, but it proved impossible. Your elven companion returned to the tavern, had an altercation with the dwarf there and conferred at length with the Rook. I know not the words spoken in the latter encounter.”

“So I followed you here, waiting down the road from here to decide my next steps. I’d been patient thus far, a lesson for my soul through which my Lord Ragathiel had been long-suffering for results. But again, my patience resolved in the monk, Lau emerging first from this Temple area. I resolved to follow and make contact with him.” Sacerdos kept his gaze firm, exchanging equal focus between the Paladin and the elf. “I was not in time in my decision. Lau was waylaid by the dwarf, Kreig, and numerous henchmen. I battled my way into their filthy ranks, but was not in time to save the monk. Your companion Karthan and Mal’undil joined the battle, a valiant effort and a gift from Lord Ragathiel. But my failure had not altered. If I had made contact with the monk Lau, I may have altered the outcome.”

“The outcome saw the retribution of Lau’s soul in the death of all those who participated in his murder. Mal’undil has seen to the monk’s remains, ferrying the body to the Erastil temple. Your companion Karthan journeys to the Rook’s lair to deliver the broken and purged weapons of Kreig and his ilk.”

Sacerdos held a hand with splayed fingers over his heart and bowed his head. “I am in your debt, honor-bound for not saving the life of your comrade. His name was Lau Fu Shan, servant of Erastil, and I shall not forget his blood. If it pleases you, at the conclusion of my service to the priests of my order, I will gladly offer my services to you and your companions.”

"An appropriate metaphor, mistress." He searched them both, reaching into the insight granted him by his master. The elf maiden spoke well of the Green Man, but such faith was one of adaptability and evolution. A neutral-gray posture in world that mandated a black and white if you were to see yourself on the right side of Heaven. Too often he saw the good-natured beings of a centrist benefactor simply plowed under because they chose malleable points of view instead of standing firm in their convictions.

Was not his life before Lord Ragathiel saved him leading down that very path?

He saw the essence of the elf and saw the youth of her. But there was definitely more. Perhaps this cause she spoke of would be just the right push towards salvation she needed.

As for the paladin, she was bound to her goddess and adhered to her path appropriately. There was the aspect and aura of order in her life mandated to be effective in her calling.

At will ability to detect alignment for the inquisitor.

He refocused on the elf, hand moving from the hilt of his sword to the satchel at his side. "So there is no misunderstanding between us, the kukri I sought, it is already in my possession and will remain so. As for Karthan, assuming he survives his visit to Copperwood and the den of this Rook, he will return here this evening. His sense of events and self, I'm afraid, is influenced by his youth. He will benefit from grounding, perhaps something you can provide, mistress."

There is no pretention in the man, none. What you see is what you get. You’ve been exposed to more types of races and their proclivities since staying in Greengold and now in Absalom, so you’ve seen those who tend towards a public versus a private face. You’ve already seen the difference in Mal’undil, how he hides his potential as a leader and hero behind a veneer of bravado and prickly bearing. With Olivia, she is honesty born, but there is a part of her that she keeps sheltered either by instinct or intention.

With Sacerdos, there is none of that. His words and bearing are a clear picture of his intention. Right now, there is nothing aggressive, but his entire presence is bent towards his mission. Right now, that mission only involves awaiting Karthan’s return, he would deal with the next steps as they arrived.

Sacerdos frowned down at the diminutive elf. “If you are worried about my intentions towards Karthan Dawnsetter, don’t. I am not on mission here to purge – at least not yet - but to deliver salvation and peace to three clerics of my order.”

He would need to be more delicate, but no less forth coming with his delivery of events. Perhaps he would await to tell the news of their fallen comrade until the return of Karthan or his companion Mal’undil.

“I come from Magnimar in Varisia, seeking a weapon of vile taint and purpose. The blade is a soul prison used by a group of cultist in my city to hold the spirits of three venerated clerics. In doing so, my brothers are aware of their prison, even as the filth who committed this atrocity went about committing further evil with the weapon. My brothers felt every evil act as though they committed it. I must see them freed. The weapon is a thousand-fold kukri, one forged by the hands of an Osirion weaponsmith, designed by a nobleman from Taldor who’d sold his soul to Andirifkhu …” he paused and spat upon the ground, his left hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “This weapon, the evil magics woven into it are based upon the notes of a wizard located here in the Arcanamarium. My order does not believe this wizard is at fault since the Taldoran noble twisted his writings to suit his own purposes, but the wizard, a man named Tabir, may be the only one who can undo what was done.”

He hooked his thumbs under his belt and licked his lips. “Your fellow fey-kin indicated that one of his relatives is familiar with the wizard. I am here to await his help in making that connection. Also, the very blade I’d been in search of for the past 2 years was in his possession. Lord Ragathiel has shined down his providence in bringing me to this cesspool. I will see His will done, and His ministers restored. That is my vow, that is my duty.”

Sacerdos was uncertain of how to proceed. He’d hoped to remain out of the way until he was certain if the ranger was returning or not. But seeing Karthan’s companions before him…and the other elf…he would have to unfold the events of the evening. It was only proper. But he did not want to invite conflict over the possession of the kukri, not when he had come so far afield to retrieve it.

In answer to the paladin’s question, he simply nodded affirmative. He would let them guide the conversation.

Sacerdos arrived at the temple to Iomedae, glad for the feeling of friendly territory. It was an unnerving concept to have so many gods in so close quarters. Too much tolerance in his experience was a breading ground for inept and shady morals.

Then again, this was a city whose populace dubbed it the "center of the world".

"Who arrives at the door step of Iomedae?" A guardsmen at the temple's front gate stepped forward armed with a halberd.

Sacerdos retrieved a writ of passage from his satchel. On it, he could barter lodgings at this temple and request cooperation from Iomedae's servants. If half of what he'd heard about this Arcanamarium was true, he'd need more contacts in the city to gain access to this wizard Tabir.

"I am Sarcerdos e'Niihl of Magnimar, servant and Inquisitor of His Empyreal Lord Ragathiel. I am about my duties and am in need of assistance. I am also to await within for an elven ranger by the name of Karthan Dawnsetter."

There was a conflict of emotion and duty in the Inquisitor's mind. He held the wrapped weapon, feeling the weight of the steel and the shape of it beneath the cloth. In his heart, deep within the core of him, he knew this was the weapon for which he'd hunted for nearly two years. Lord Ragathiel truly shined down upon him, he could feel the sheltering glory of His mighty wing upon his holy endeavour.

The elf rode away into the growing mists of the early morning. Sacerdos' conflict lay within the young fey-kin's words, tearing at his duty to his order and the sense of propriety to honor the elf's request to reside in the Temple of Iomedae until his return. The measure of his decision was slowed in the face of time. He had a few days yet until the ship from Magnimar arrived. Once it did, and the litters bearing the clerics of his order were brought ashore, Sacerdos would have no choice but to side with this duty. He would have to take the kukri, make contact with the Arcanamarium and this Tabir the Grey.

For now he could wait, learn more of what Lord Ragathiel had to show him. Sacerdos slipped the cursed blade into a satchel, whispering a blessing to keep it secure and unsullied. Then he hopped into the saddle of his trusted horse and spurred him towards the temple to Iomedae. "Come Grihmla, Great Lord Ragathiel guides our steps this night."

“Of course.” He studied the rogue for a moment, thinking better of him judging by the way Sergeant Wilford accorded him honor. Perhaps this Mal’undil was a rogue no longer.

He went to one of the kiosks that had been damaged in the fighting, noting that there were small stools attached to the side. In a moment he acquired them a lay them out for the three to converse in a seated position.

“I come from Magnimar in Varisia, seeking the kukri I spoke of earlier. My assignment started…” I’ll shift to a 3rd Person telling of the tale…

Sacerdos was newly arrived from the Mendevian Crusades. His beginnings were that of a mercenary horseman seeking gold and glory in the north as a sellsword to the Knights of Ozem. In the midst of battle, he was unhorsed by an undead knight of only minor potency. Sacerdos’ pride had saw to it he charged this particular enemy, and it was his pride that lay him at the foot of the vile creature as it swung a heavy flail in jarring circles ready to deliver the deathblow.

Sacerdos had fumbled in the dirt for a weapon, anything to defend himself as the undead knight howled with unearthly joy at the kill to come. His hand fell upon the hilt of a weapon, Sacerdos grasped it and stabbed it forward as the enemy closed in for the strike. The new found blade stabbed thru the creature’s head, from the chin and upwards through the brain.

The Inquisitor drew forth his weapon, a bastard sword that upon closer inspection gave a pale gleam in the moonlight with its quality. “This is Nighteye, a gift from His Empyreal Lord Ragathiel, may His eyes fall upon us and His wing protect.” Out of habit and sense of duty, Sacerdos withdrew an oiled cloth from his satchel and began cleaning the weapon. However, it’s obvious the weapon was somehow unstained from the encounter.

He survived the many battles in the north, owing all of it to his newfound weapon. In his last battle, he lay dying on the field, several wounds open to the sky as his life drained into the ground. It was as the veil of death came to claim him that a group of clerics and paladins flying the winged-banner of Lord Ragathiel came to his aid. They fought off the hordes surrounding Sacerdos and one of the clerics saw to his recovery. The troupe instantly recognized the blade he’d found as a weapon of their patron Lord. They also had confirmation of the Lord’s defense of Sacerdos in battle.

They brought Sacerdos on in their group, seeing his successes as a sign of the Empyreal Lord of his worthiness to join their order. He returned with those that survived the campaign to Magnimar to continue his training and answer the calling of Inquisitorship.

In the years that followed, he bonded with the priests and warriors in Magnimar, seeing to it that the will of the great Empyreal Lord Ragathiel was followed. It was his 5th year of service as an Inquisitor that 3 clerics of his order went missing. Sacerdos accepted the honor and obligation of investigating the disappearances and bring those responsible to justice. There would only be enmity between his blade Nighteye and those responsible. During the year or so since embarking upon the investigation, Sacerdos had discovered a group of cultists worshipping the ancient Chaos deity Andirifkhu.

Karthan recognizes the name, realizing that the crude rune carved into the Kukri could be a vague interpretation of the deity’s symbol; Andirifkhu is worshipped by the Drow.

Sacerdos had discovered that a wealthy noble from Taldor. This noble was the head of an Andirifkhu cult in the north of Taldor. Between dealings as a cult leader and a noble, he’d discovered the writings of an alchemist and wizard pair who’d done research into the transference of souls. Out of that research he commissioned a blade to be forged by a weaponsmith from Osirion. Once completed, the noble took those closest to him in the cult to Magnimar where they imbued the newly forged blade with the properties necessary to not transfer souls, but to imprison them. The goal of this cult was to trap the souls of truly good people within the blade, then commit horrible crimes that would stain the souls of these good men and torture them for as long as their souls were trapped.

This group in Magnimar comprised of the noble, a Cassomiri merchant and a Varisian dancer named Claire. It was this last member that committed the first murder. A betrayal of the Taldoran noble, using the blade to run him through the neck…Claire and this Cassomiri merchant departed Magnimar with the blade, this kukri with the souls of three of his order’s priests trapped within the steel. Sacerdos had nearly caught up with them in the Dockway, the Captain’s Club tavern. That’s where the inquisitor discovered this Taldoran noble, barely clinging to life. He put him to the question, garnering the name of the Varisian dancer and their next stop Cassomir.

From what he learned in Cassomir, the merchant sold Claire into indentured servitude in a local tavern and sought to establish a circle dedicated to Andirifkhu. He nearly managed that but had a habit of entering into business dealings he couldn’t possibly hope to satisfy. It was in one of these dealings that he ran afoul of this Rook character. That is where the kukri was claimed and taken to this island in the possession of a Dhampir. Apparently, Claire was able to escape and work her way into the graces of the Rook, managing to acquire the blade.

Sacerdos sheathed his blade, looking intently at the two before him. “That lead me to the Toiling Gent. I’d been a patron of that filthy establishment for nearly a month, observing the behaviors of the dancer and the Rook and the other assorted scum frequenting the tavern. I was close to making my judgment when you two, the other elf and the monk arrived. So I sat back and continued observing.”

The cart to carry off the dead had arrived while Sacerdos was speaking. The inquisitor muttered a prayer of thanks over the enemies he’d been honored to vanquish then continued the discussion. “I attempted to follow your party when you departed, but was unable to when I couldn’t extricate myself from the table I’d chosen. But when you returned,” he motioned to the elf. “I decided to follow you after Kreig’s embarrassment. My estimation was that somehow you’d managed to vanquish this Lamech the Rook mentioned and possibly had the Kukri in your possession. I awaited you outside the Temple to Iomedae in the hopes of a private discussion.”

“The monk emerged first, so I followed him, losing him in some of the twists and turns of the area. When I managed to catch up to him, he had already been taken into that alley to the north. I fought my way towards him, and that is when you two arrived.” He shook his head and felt the pain of embarrassment. “I should have been faster, should have simply entered the Temple Iomedae, but the dwarf villain seemed blood-driven to seek vengeance upon your entire group. The monk was unfortunate in leaving first, for that is where the dwarf directed his arrow of hatred.”

After the Plaza Battle

“No,” Sacerdos responded. “Not a monk. As with the other humans here, they were part of a small group of thieves and murderers called the Stag Heralds. They lay in wait here for your monk companion. They did not ask any questions…at least none that I heard.”

“Think you can handle this without me?” The rogue had gotten to his feet and rejoined them in silence. There was the growing fire of vengeance in his eyes.

“If you seek to visit this dead villain’s employer, I’ll gladly go to wash this world of his presence. But the Rook’s responsibility for this event began and ended with a public humiliation of the dwarf earlier this evening.” At the rogue’s raised eyebrow the inquisitor continued. “Apparently your elven friend here left quite an impression on the dwarf. When he left the second time from the Toiling Gent, the dwarf called out to the Rook, calling for the elf’s blood. Even going so far as calling the Rook weak for taking a linking to the…well, I will not repeat what he said at that point.”

“The Rook booted him?”

“No, but he humiliated him in front of the patrons and scum in the tavern. Indicated that it took a person named Feyd and an elf one night to handle what shouldn’t have been a problem in the first place. He wondered if the dwarf should be assigned to the scullery retinue instead of running the tavern.” He paused for a moment, thinking on other aspects of the evening. “I assumed he meant you were Feyd,” he gestured to the rogue, then to the elf, “I’m assuming he also meant you since you were the last one to visit prior to the outburst.”

A group of soldiers, Grey Cloaks to be precise, were marching through the hazy alley to the south. Sacerdos moved forward to great them, hands held outward , palms up, to indicate he held no weapons. Over his shoulder he spoke once more. “The Greys, they will know this Kreig, yes?"

The rogue nodded, his eyes unfocused as a swirl of thoughts raced back and forth.

"Good." he moved off. "Stick around Feyd, I would have questions for you in regards to this Rook person. At the conclusion of my mission here, I would be obliged to rid your city of his filth if it pleases my Empyreal Lord.”

It wasn't quite the response he'd expected. But then again, there was a great deal of labyrinth within the shadows Sacerdos had to deal with on a daily basis. He watched Karthan for a while. He'd studied them while they were in the Toiling Gent, watched their interactions in the common room...there was something in their bearing that Ragathiel told his servant Sacerdos could be trusted.

"I'm searching for a Kukri, a blade forged in Taldor but found use in Magnimar. It bears a ruinic sickle upon it's blade and was last in the possession of a Varisian dancer. I've spent nearly a year tracking the weapon. I must reclaim this blade for my order, it is a soul prison." He turned his head to the side, the guards would be there soon. "I would share more, but those guards that will be arriving soon are none I will deem trustworthy. I will share with you more out of the debt I hold to your group."

"I am Sacerdos e'Niihl of Magnimar, Inquisitor to His Empyreal Lord Ragathiel, may His eyes fall upon us and His wing protect." He placed splayed fingers over his breast and bowed respectfully. Upon closer inspection, you note the tell-tale upturn to his ears, marking him a half-elf. But as opposed to Mal'undil, it seems his human side is the dominant with regards to features.

Sacerdos moved closer to the elf, whispering softly. "I'm sorry, but there is no returning from the wounds your friend has received."

He stepped away and addressed them both, rather than wait for the guards to arrive and miss the chance later. "These villains lay in wait to assault him. I entered the fray as soon as I caught up with them. My task had been to make contact with this monk, inquire about an object in the possession of your group so that I might reclaim it." He paused and bowed his head, eyes closed in patient resolve, hands relaxed and at his sides as he knelt. "I have forgiveness to ask of you both. If I had made contact sooner, or had better skill in battle, I would have been able to prevent this end."

In the distance, the boots were getting closer.

Sacerdos took a few steps back and drew forth his crossbow, reloading the weapon. As he worked, he surveyed the area, verifying there were no other threats.

At Initiative 26...
Perception Check - 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
The other two were wounded, but between the three of them they had the dwarf cornered. Sacerdos would not suffer the scum to live, judgment was passed for the dwarf earlier. There was no turning back.

But he also respected the fact this vile creature was not his to kill. He fanned the fingers of his left hand and prayed to his benefactor, then pointed his sword at the dwarf. "I am Sacerdos e'Niihl of Magnimar, and in the name of Ragathiel, you will not move..."

Sacerdos casts Hold upon Kreig
Will to Resist (16) - 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

The dwarf turned, snarling at Sacerdos, great club coming up with all the strength he could muster...then froze in place.

He sheathed his bastard sword and nodded to the rogue and elf. "This villain is yours, but I cannot allow him to leave this place alive."

At Initiative 26...
Sacerdos adjusted his thinking, seeing the monk go down...
Perception Check - 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (4) + 12 = 16

The other half-elf was looking too, fear then growing anger in his eyes. He may be out of the fight, maybe compromised. There was no telling until in the instant Sacerdos had to contemplate the situation.

He moved into position opposite the elf, as he passed the rogue he shouted to him. "Stay focused, stay in the fight!"

His blade sang in the night air, biting into the dwarf's shoulder.

Flanking
+2 to Attack against Flanked Opponent
+2d6 Damage vs Agents of Chaos
+1d6 Damage Precise Strike
1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 7 + 2 = 28 Hit!!
Confirm Critical - 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 7 + 2 = 13 Missed!!
Damage - 1d10 + 5 + 2d6 + 1d6 ⇒ (4) + 5 + (3, 5) + (2) = 19

Top of the Round At Initiative 26...  

The man in greys and reds is waiting for him, bastard sword flashing in the night.  

Bastard Sword - 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15  Hit!!
Damage - 1d20 + 5 + 2d6 ⇒ (19) + 5 + (3, 2) = 29  

The thug's death goes unnoticed as Kreig charges the elf...