Shen took the Eye with him, back to his temple, where he found one of the Father's reapers waiting for him. The shrouded one took Reed by one skeletal hand and pulled the old man into the Underworld. There, he was escorted to the Hall of the Father.
Thanatos saw his servant before him, presenting the Eye of the Demon Lord. With a gesture, he crushed the eye in his bony grasp and suffused the once-mortal with it's power, creating a new Reaper. "Go now and do your duty." Father Death spoke and wove him away.
Shen felt the memories of the past flow into him, every thought and memory Father Death had stolen from him returned. It had been a test, he realized, one that so many had failed. Now he had the power to free his student's souls and put an end to the demon that had taken them. The Father willed it so...
Many years later, as Dramm was entering the twilight of his life, he was visited by an old friend. Mr.Reed smiled as he said, "I know now, Dramm. I know where the path ends."
Shen looked down at the body of the slain wizard, saying a small prayer. He hadn't known Caribdus, but it was terrible to see what had been done to him. If left to his own devices, the old man picks up the Eye of the Demon Lord and takes it wit him down the stairs.
Shen watched in shock as the faun sailed over the edge, into the darkness below. He ran to the side of the tower, looking for a crumpled corpse, but is rather surprised to see him fighting the undead below. Unable to make it down several flights of stairs quikcly, Shen takes one of his flasks and carefully throws it to the combat below. The holy water flies for the vampire, boiling in anticipation.
Assuming three banes for distance Attack:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22 Damage:1d6 ⇒ 2+corruption
Unable to close the distance without risking flying into the void, Mr.Reed instead pulls a flask of holy water from his pack and throws it at the corrupt sorcerer.
Attack vs. Agility:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10 Fighter Reroll:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23 Katandramus takes damage equal to his corruption unless he's secretly undead? then +1d6 "It's time to pay for your deeds, demon summoner!" The old man yells as he takes his mark.
Triggered action: use Syringe, +8 Hp
Shen presses himself against staircase and is just barely fast enough to avoid the brunt of the blasts. In a similar fashion to Joy, the old man quickly injects himself with the syringe Imedren gave him. The healing magics were sluggish, but better than nothing
Mr.Reed rushed up the remaining stairs, taking his knives to the fiery being before him. It was foolish perhaps to strike a being of flame, but the revenant wasn't going to let an overgrown candle get between him and the cult leader.
Fast, Rush up most of the stairs Will:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21
Katandramus was just a man, corrupted, powerful, but still just a man. There was little to fear compared to even the monsters they just faced. Shen was unafraid as he climbed the stairs, taking cover in the stairwell.
"Thank you for the aid, Imidren, but I feel it's better you hang onto that syringe for now." Shen hands the healing syringe back to the time mage and retirees his knives from the centipede's body.
"Let's push on, there's more demons to kill!" The elderly man says with almost a gleeful tone.
With deadly accuracy, the knife fighter threw both of his daggers at the remaining demon, his knives biting into the centipede like a snake. Swiftly downing the potion the strange time clone gave him earlier, it seems as if the elderly fighter has made almost a complete recovery.
Fast Turn
The revenant was starting to buckle under the pressure put his way. The true damage though was to his soul. He could feel a blackness take root and start infecting his thoughts, driving him into a bitter anger.
Mr.Reed takes the creature's heavy strike with a grunt of pain, he'd definitely feel that later. Readying his blades, the older man darts between the demons, attacking each of them in turn.
His blades find little purchase on the bronzed one's metallic skin, though he cut it dozens of times. The machinated one however, suffered more severely.
"The fleshy blob there is strengthening them, focus on that one!" Shen says as he draw his blades. The undead man lunges forward to attack, striking at the creature he called out.
Boons:2d6 ⇒ (2, 4) = 6 Charging Twin Attack+Trickery:1d20 + 4 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 + 4 = 27 Damage:5d6 ⇒ (5, 2, 2, 1, 2) = 12Not sure if Weapon Specialization means both my daggers deal an additional 1d6, so I only added it once.
The old man begins his gruesome work, but has difficulty getting through the creature's tough hide. Longer blades would most likely be better suited for such work, but there was no time to acquire one.
Shen's eyebrows furrow as he hears Dramm and Imedren's response. "In my experience, rituals are not a quick process. The wizard has likely already fled, in best of cases. In worst, the cultist may have killed him and taken his place, right under our noses.
The elderly warrior gently takes the dagger Dramm offers him, testing its balance in his hands. "Very well, I'll put it to good use."
As they run for Wizard's Peak, the old man tries to pry information from Dramm."This wizard, Caribdus, how well do you know him? Would he consort with demons?" Shen's voice is flat, not betraying much emotion.
Shen carefully draws his blade, checking the shine of its edge, before stowing it again. Looks as if these are not demons they face, but something of another ilk.
Shen was a little surprised as their new companion transformed into a lynx. Some kind of lycanthrope? However, with the urgency of the situation, Mr.Reed decided to focus on the undead threat. It was something to ask later.
Shen is taken aback for a moment, thinking the horrid undead to be mindless revenants. His fear of his own fate came screaming up to haunt him, but then he saw Joy an the others standing, unafraid. These were simple ghouls. Shen's face curled into a sneer at the lesser undead, resolving to bring them to The Father.
Assuming both hit and Exploit opportunity
The old man rushes forward, striking at the two nude undead with his fists. In a somewhat comedic moment, he even manages to clobber the two's heads together.
"Think boy! This is very important. Was there anything distinguishing about them, some kind of insignia or tattoo? We need to know who we're dealing with!" The bony old man looms over the younger man like a specter.
Mr. Reed turns to his compatriots. "Perhaps we should poke around for the mayor's surviving guard, there is no doubt he is affiliated somehow."
Looking a bit ragged, the old man decides to ask for the inquisitor's aid. "Would you happen to have a spare set of clothes? I'd get this slime off of me."
"Well, despite the dire warnings, so far the good councilman has been fairly useless. Is anything you can tell us that can actually help us, or shall we just clear the world of another demon worshipper?" The old man speaks with thinly veiled hatred and his knife glints even in the darkness.
Mr.Reed coughs lightly as Dramm applies his healing. It's not as effective as he'd like, but the old man hops to his feet, looking mostly recovered. "I'd say I had one foot in the grave there." The old man has a wry grin. "But we've felled the hellspawn and that's what matters. Where to next? The guardsman's home?"
Shen only recovers half hp from magic +18 hp. Using nimble recovery.
Shen grit his teeth as the hellbeast struck him, feeling what would surely be some bruises come morning. The old man focused himself and dug deep, hoping to slay the demon before it brought him down instead. His movements sped up again and his knife found purchase on the demon's blubbery flesh.
The demon's foul whispering fell on dead ears as Shen focused his mind on slaying the beast. "We will handle this demon, stop Fobb!" Shen shouts as he continues his attack.
The old man continued to slice into the beast, but his movements slowed a bit. Was old age catching up? He was still a dangerous foe, carving into the demon's softer flank.
The elderly man pounces like tiger, clawing through the demon's flesh with his dagger. His stone-like fist collides with many of the waving human heads, caving in their faces. Shen's face is a mask of cold fury as he slices through the more tender parts of the bloated creature.
"Alright, but let's prepare for a fight. It's fairly likely to be an ambush." Shen says, looking at the opened book. "If the culprit left the book for us to find, a confrontation is unavoidable."
"The timing of this Lawrence's hiring is a little suspicious. Do we know where he worked before the mayor's home?" The old man's thin brow furrowed in thought, there were drawbacks to living the life of a hermit...
"I'll aid your interrogation of this miscreant. Hopefully we can draw something useful out of him." Shen leans on his staff once again, hunching like a weathered old fisherman.
I think only the first person to see the body has to take the will check. Will, just in case.:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Shen was not overly familiar with the Mayor, but the scene of her death still did not sit well with him. "Urgh, this is clearly not the work of humans. Just horrible!" The elderly man turns away from the horrid remains, trying to focus on something, anything else.
It wasn't long before he noticed the writing on the wall. "The Eye? What could this mean?" His voice wavered, but did not break.
The old man buried the corpses. All six hundred and sixty six of them. With little more than a shovel, the old man dug six hundred and sixty six graves. It took him over a week of manual labor, but he did not tire, nor stop. In a way, the work of the body gave his mind time to think. The mindless monotony droned out the real world and Shen floated admits his thoughts, meditating.
He hadn't died in years, a strange thought to be sure. It was terrible in a way, to be so numb to death, even his own. He still feared it, though not for the oblivion it promised. No, it was something slower, more insidious than oblivion. Every time he rose again, he would remember less of who he was, lose more of his drive. He feared that one day, he may rise as little more husk than man, a mindless thrall to the whims of Father Death.
Shen Reed tried to reach back, into the misty shrouds of his memory, and bring forth who he once was. He had tried many times before, but never had much success. There were glimpses, here and there. The smell of a baked treat, the splash of water on his body, but nothing concrete. He needed to finish what he came back for, and soon. He owed it to the students that had followed him. Their souls needed to be freed.
************
Mr.Reed spent his time in Crossings exploring the markets and playing games of chance, finding fortune in the dice games in particular. On occasion, the older man would visit a certain flower shop, buying tea leaves and incense. He worked quietly as a boatman, not drawing attention to himself. Immersing himself in the hustle and bustle of the city was always a new experience, the people and culture changed all the time.
Sometimes, he'd see his students in the crowd. Every time, the old man would rush to their side, hollering for their attention. But, as it had been so many times before, the person turned out to be different. These experiences haunted Shen whenever he went into cities, which is why he avoided them for the most part. It wasn't uncommon for the elderly man to drown his sorrows amongst the tables and cheap wine afterward.
Sometimes, during particularly rainy days, Mr.Reed would take his boat out upon the water and practice his techniques. The swaying of the boat as he moved helped keep the old man light on his feet and his center of gravity balanced. It was comforting to practice, the techniques he'd worked on and perfected were wired into his body. While his mind had been failing him, he felt confident in his skills as a warrior.
Shen peers into the inky Void and sees the endless tide just beyond. At first fear sinks it's teeth into the elderly man, but a burning anger, long forgotten comes roiling to fight it back. His body tenses, and the urge to confront these horrors begins to well up in his body. He takes a step forward followed by another, but is stopped by a strange resonance he feels within the void. As if someone was within... Then the tide of darkness recedes and the presence is gone.
****************
The old man once again leans on his staff, as if the past few minutes never happened.
"For now, I have quite the number of dead to care for, The Father will have his crop. Then, I am unsure. Perhaps I will travel to Crossings and peruse the market."
"Well, I suppose if you have it handled, I'll take a moment to catch my breath." The old man says as he walks back into the prior hallway. They sure seem to be unreserved about their usage of magic. Best stay out of the blast zone.
Using Nimble Recovery before battle and moving on Fast.
Shen accepts Dramm's magic and looks much better than he did mere moments ago. "Well, well. I feel like I'm thirty years younger! I could get used to this."
Shen follows behind Sel, taking cover in the larger faun's shadow. His dagger flashes in the dark, protecting him from the demon's influence.
The old man is a blur of motion, slicing into the tenderest parts of the demon's myriad faces. His knife finds purchase between the creature's protective blubber as his fist punctures several of the demon's eyes. Even as he lands from his jump, Mr.Reed is prepares for a second pass, cutting into the beast once more.
The old man laughed, though it was as cold and mirthless as his own corpse. "It is not a matter of trust. I was already in his domain, under his power. What choice did I have? Would you lay silent in your grave if demons tore your friends, family asunder? Stole their souls so that you remained alone in the underworld?"
Reed slid his pack on in silence and grabbed his staff.
*koff* "Yes, well. I suppose I can tell you the truth. I have a certain... interest in slaying demonkind and The Father has been willing to help me in these endeavors, so long as they are in his name. He stays his hand from me, for as long as our interests are aligned." Shen slowly stands up, not bothering to lean upon his staff anymore.
The thin man stands taller than he did before, no longer hunched or with bent knees. His posture is one of a practiced fighter. "From what I've learned, the souls of these poor victims have not been delivered unto him. *koff* Either the demon has been feeding upon them, or worse, been putting them to use as minions or tools. The Father is does not take kindly to others treading upon his domain."
With a small popping noise, Shen's bones start reassembling themselves. His ribcage re-inflates as the crushed ribs pull themselves out of his lungs. The old man's body shudders as he sits up, his intestines still hanging from his stomach.
"I'm Micheal... no, Shen Reed. I'm a... fisherman from the village of... oh. I don't remember. I-I have to try to remember... was I a boatman? I can't.... Why does the name Tropp come to me... that's not me is it?" The half-dead man rambles to himself, his eyes unfocused. Seemingly of their own accord, his arms scoop the old man's hanging guts back into his body with a horrid squelching noise. Blood soaks the old man's hands as they work, first threading flesh, then cloth back together.
As the old man's eyes focus again, he seems notice that he's not alone."Well *koff* seems you've done well without me."
As Dramm touches Reed's body, a deathly chill sinks into his hands. Try as he might, the sorcerer's healing magics have not effect. He's dead. Perhaps bringing this feeble old man into such a dangerous place was foolish.
Unbeknownst to the rest of the party, Shen will return to life in 1d3 ⇒ 1 hour with1d3 ⇒ 2 Insanity.
Fast Will + Trickery:1d20 + 1 + 1d6 ⇒ (9) + 1 + (2) = 12
The huge monsters were Intimidating, for sure, but Shen was more disturbed by the grotesque carvings upon the walls.
"The *koff* demons have fortified themselves quite heavily it seems." The old man says almost casually as he sets aside his staff and draws his dagger. The small knife gleams even in the dark of the castle, almost unnaturally. The 'priest' then takes an unusual fighting stance, holding the knife in his left hand.
Prepared Action: Attack with both hands if enemy closes the distance Boons:3d6 ⇒ (3, 3, 3) = 9 Two Weapon Attack+Trickery against Agility:1d20 + 4 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 4 + 3 = 17 Damage:4d6 ⇒ (2, 3, 2, 5) = 12
The old man held his ground, clinging to his staff. Whilst the others fought, he beseeched the earth elemental again. "Please, O' earthen one! We are not your enemies, the Shadow has twisted you to its service!"
Subterfuge:1d20 + 3 + 1d6 ⇒ (10) + 3 + (2) = 15
As the raging elemental energy disperses, the 'priest' mumbles something under his breath, hands held in prayer. Afterwards, Mr.Reed carefully pulls his staff out of the ground, having not even moved for the entire battle.
The old man slams his staff into the earth and holds a steady grip to keep standing. He looks at the Earth genie on the right and says, "O Servant of the roiling earth, we are not your enemy, stand aside so we might rid the world of corruption!"
The old man laughs good-naturedly as the others argue in front of him. "Seems like you know more than I do." he lied, "I suppose there's no point in burying those killed by demons if the demons *koff* stick around to cause more. Shall we go?"
Not bothering to wait for a reply, the elderly man begins walking towards the mountain. He uses the staff to support himself but keeps a brisk walking pace.
Mr.Reed laughs when the faun finishes talking. His response is teasing, "You are quite well dressed for a watchman, Mr.Selgaer. Are these fellows your entourage?"
As Joy flies up to them, the old man watches with some genuine surprise. "You can fly, Joy!? My, my, and *koff* at such a young age! You must be quite the talented caster!"
Dramm interrupts the geezer's musings rather quickly though. Reed refocuses, this time on the mousey man. His eyes narrow slightly, before softening again. "Hm, you're a direct one aren't you? I suppose it isn't too much to ask. I was called here by the Father, I'm *koff* a priest... after a fashion. "
The easy smile slides back onto the old man's face."And one of my duties is to see these bodies buried, though I suppose our meeting here was no accident. Care to give an old man a hand? Some of these poor unfortunates are like to get back up, if not properly taken care of."
"Well, I don't really know, I was just *Koff* passing through myself. But that mountain there gives me a bad feeling every time I look at it. I'd say it's probably the work of demons. Has their stink all about this place." The old man slowly makes his way closer to the party, continuing to lean heavily on his staff.
He frowns slightly as he talks. "Young lady, I think you're supposed to introduce yourself first?" He looks at Sera disapprovingly before shrugging his shoulders.
"It's a real tragedy, isn't it?" The stranger says as he turns around, without a hint of surprise or shock by what he's seen. The old man leans heavily on his staff as he does so. He's dressed plainly, his patched and loose shirt creased by the large wicker basket he carries on his back. The elderly gentleman smiles easily, laugh lines obvious on his face.
"You're just in time! You lot look pretty strong, I don't suppose you could help an old man bury these poor souls?" His staff is topped with a strange symbol from the Old Faith, with his only other weapon being a small dagger on his belt.
Perception Challenge!:
Just under his loose shirt seems to be something sturdier, armor?
Level 1: You fought to protect your community from an outside danger. You received a shiny medal worth 1 ss for your efforts.
Profession 4: Common/Miner
Level 1 Story (gore warning):
Three years later, Shen Reed was back on his feet once again. While he resumed his trade, the fisherman started to grow restless. He had spent too long trapped in his bed, the urge to see the world beyond his village was impossible to ignore.
The Spine, a nearby mountain, provided exactly the kind of thrill Reed needed. It was there, in those hills that the fisherman found gold! He had been exploring the old riverbeds that had long since dried up and amongst the worn river stones was tiny flecks of gold. He studied the rock and found a likely dig spot.
As they dug into the earth, they discovered a vein that was rich with enough gold to make the villagers wealthy indeed! But, they were not alone. Drawing by the constant clamor of their picks, a great burrowing lizard erupted from the surrounding rock. Shen and several of the miners attempted to slay the beast, but its sturdy hide and sharpened teeth cut through their bodies with ease.
Reed managed to catch his pick in the creature's maw, narrowly avoiding the loss of his arm. In a fit of desperation, the fisherman punched the creature in its side, unknowingly sinking his fist into its eye. As the monster reel in pain, Shen took the opportunity to grab it's weak point and begin pulling. With a horrid squelch and a veritable cascade of blood, the newly born warrior ripped out the creature's eye. It fled then, gravely wounded, tunneling back into the earth as Reed stood there holding the remains of the creature's ocular organ. He was hailed as a hero then and presented with a medal of prestige from the oldest house in the village.
Level 3: You started a business related to your profession.
Profession 5:Wilderness/Hermit
Level 3 Story:
It was that encounter with the rock lizard that Shen thought of often. As he trained, he came to realize that just with the lizard, there may come a time where he may have to fight unarmed. Looking down at the tough calluses on his hands from long days hauling nets, he thought to himself 'What if I train my entire body in the same way? Could my fists penetrate the harden shell of a rock lizard?'
Filled with all kinds of ideas, Shen Reed took an excursion into the mountains. He trained his fists against the trunk of trees and performed a routine of exercises whilst living off the land. Weeks turned into months which in turn, became years. He had almost entirely abandoned the village, seeking instead to refine his techniques. His practice had borne fruit, calluses formed upon his hands and feet and striking a tree no longer hurt. Through a variety of aches and pains, Shen learned about the various joints and muscles of his body as well as how to worry loose those sticking points.
He trained as such for thirty years, rarely appearing in the village, usually to solve some dispute or another. The villagers began to view him with a mix of distrust and awe, which Shen paid little mind to. Until thugs appeared upon his doorstep. They had heard he was squirreling away gold from his earlier years asa prospector and were keen to make it theirs. Not long after they were sent packing did the new Master Reed receive his first student.
Level 7: You died in a fight. You can either create a new character or be returned to life by some stroke of luck (your choice). If you return to life, you start the game with 1d6 Insanity. If you’re using Tombs of the Desolation and you are of an appropriate ancestry, you can become a revenant or a vampire.
Profession:Common/Healer
Level 7 Story:
Master Reed worked together with his apprentices, building a temple with which to house them. The students complained, as they were wont to do, but Shen told them that the physical labor would strengthen them for the road to come. Upon it's completion, Shen contemplated upon which of the Old Gods to dedicate it to, but could not decide. Still his training and teaching began in earnest.
He found that sparring with his students furthered his own abilities as well, for having true opponents allowed him to see the flaws in his own techniques. After being thrown by a particularly adept apprentice, he began to train upon his old fishing boat. The boat's footing was precarious, and in trying to stay atop the vessel, he found the essence of balancing his body. With this breakthrough, Shen continued his teachings with renewed vigor.
Unfortunately, his efforts were in vain. One night, Demons in human form descended upon the village, slaughtering indiscriminately. The students heard of this travesty first and raced to the temple, but they were not alone. As they burst into their master's chambers a demon of cruel curved horns leapt upon them. All of them died before their master, who in a fit of rage, attacked the creature with everything he learned in his years. But the horned one proved too powerful for the late Shen Reed, and the master was disemboweled within his own temple.
But... that is not where the story ends. The oldest of Gods, Father Death, looked upon a mere mortal who tried to defy him. He needed more time, the mortal said, the demon must pay for what it did to his students, to his temple. The Father looked upon mortal with eyes of pale fire and spoke, "No mortal, that temple is mine. You shall curate it in my stead. Then, and only then, shall you have your revenge." The mortal seemed to struggle with this ultimatum, but in the end he agreed to the Father's terms. It was then that Shen Reed rose again.
In his youth, Shen Reed was a fisherman in the small village of Tropp. He'd ferry people around in his boat on occasion as well. It was a peaceful life, but when Reed was 24 a plague swept over the town. Folk were falling sick left and right and the townsfolk were starting to panic. Shen, while only in the early stages of the disease set out with several others to try find the source.
They searched the town, bursting into the condemned buildings and burning them down. After they'd burned most of the stricken buildings, the search team started to spread out. Shen remembers being called to an old cave outside of town, where several of the villagers had already been struck down by the creature they'd found inside. It resembled a goblin, but one hunched over with weeping cysts. As it saw the fresh arrivals, the creature let loose a gargling cry and lunged at the villagers. Shen clobbered the creature once with his club, but was struck down by it's scythe-like claws.
He survived, and the creature was killed, but its effects were felt by all it had injured. Reed was bedridden for six months, barely able to move. Phlegm filled his lungs and sores closed his eyes for longer still. Some of the townsfolk claim it was a miracle he survived, and Shen was one to believe them.
