“Right cutter,” Thorn addresses the mouthless man, though his eyes flick towards the angry looking and blood splattered half-orc, “now that that unpleasantness is dealt with, why don’t you put down yer corn-cutter and come along, easy-like, with me and me mate,” he jerks a thumb back in the direction of O.L.L.I. “and we’ll take you back to the Gatehouse. They’ll look after you there …” He shakes his head again, and lips his thin lips with a slightly pointed tongue, “I think.”
The bariaur does not however lower his guard, keeping a wary eye on the man’s apparent ally or bodyguard.
Kev:
Before you can figure out a means of egress around the stich-web the berk is tied up in, you hear a light step behind you. And suddenly, there's the faintest breath on your ear.
Deris:
These snake people sure like their corpses.
With your keen elven eyes, you can see a bit into the suites on your left and right. Some of them seem to have dying plants and empty cages in them. Others contain large crates as well as a wide assortment of broken plaster and rubble. On your right, you think you can make out a metal cylinder sitting on four stubby legs, a thin line of light tracing what must be a little panel in the front. Atop the cylinder is a large pot. A tube of metal leads from the cylinder out through the wall. This seems to be where that gurgle sound is coming from and you can tell that the air is a bit more humid in that direction.
It seems your beau is catching on to your presence...
Kev carefully snuffs the candle, blinking as his visoin adjusts to the darkness. Drawing his rapier from it's sheathe he turns. Staring intently at the space where he suspects his stalker to be, he says "Alright berk, give it up. I know you're there. I ain't here for trouble, just to deliver a message. I work for ol' Autochon and he'd be most displeased if I ended up dead. Let me go about my buisness and we won't have a problem."
As the hall goes dark, Deris takes a reflexive step back, hands raising to show she's unarmed when she remembers she's still invisible. Damned new boots, squeaking where they shouldn't.
"No need to get huffy, boy-o. I was just trying to get a look in the room. Seems things are a bit more complex than we first thought, hmm?" She starts to curl her fingers into spell-patterns, slowing drawing energy into herself.
Time to try and make nice, I suppose. Maybe I can convince him to tear off the baurier’s arm? That usually brings people out of an enchantment right quick.
Rennet keeps his eyes on Thorn and one hand firmly (though a bit awkwardly) on the Scythe, while extending the other towards Reghar’s shoulder in what he hopes is a nonthreatening manner.
A warm feeling wells up within his gut, and Rennet uses willpower as much as muscle to push it up and outward towards the other man. Assuming he doesn’t shy away or attack, a soft sea-green pulse moves from Rennet to Reghar, and the half-orc’s wounds lessen ever so slightly .
After restraining the yuan-ti, O.L.L.I turns his attention to the befuddled Thorn. Realizing he is under some sort of mental compulsion, he decides to try and shock him out of it. Modulating his sonic apparatus to deliver a scratching-nails-across-a-blackboard sound, O.L.L.I. squawks directly at Thorn. After the blast of unpleasant sound, he address the drunken-looking bariaur.
"Attention friend and fellow adventurer Thorn! You are under a mesmeraton effect from the ophidians we fought. Resistance isn't futile."
After delivering this statement, O.L.L.I. looks to helping the sorely-wounded half orc who fought beside them.
Reghar unused to the touch of others unless in a brutal and threatening manner is surprised to feel soothing energy flowing into him. Taking advantage of the last of his animal power, Reghar shoves his spear at the yuan-ti one last time before withdrawing.
"I don't much like talking to someone I can't see.". Taking a deep breath, Kev calls upon his angelic heritage, summoning the light of day. A small globe of brilliant light appears in his hand. "Come on, show yourself. I've got enough magic in me to blast your soul from your body. I'd rather not use it on someone I'm not sure is an enemy so kindly become visible and we can talk this over like reasonable intelligent beings."
2nd Floor
In the sudden wash of celestial daylight, the second story is a bit less foreboding, if still rather grim. In the rubble to Kev's left, he can see a cast iron stove or boiler with a big pot of water bubbling away; likely the source of the humidity and the gurgling noise. Bits of the walls remain to divide the suites into uneven sections. Dead plants of all shapes and sizes sit here and there, some of a variety that neither Deris nor Kev have ever seen before. In some of the chambers you can see into, broken or empty crates spill shattered glass or broken weapons into the already formidable mess.
Turning hither and yon, searching for the other person that remains still unseen, Kev notes that the passage continues beyond the macabre web of stitches but that the strings extend throughout the area. How many yards of string were sewed into this berk? And why?
1st floor
Reghar gives the serpentman a final savage stab, to which there is no response. The bound yuan-ti breathes ragged, but seems steady enough; though he is still unconscious.
Thorn
That's the only unmuddled thought still running through your head, even as Mouthless Pete over there continues to look at you cock-eyed. He's not really... But the other one said... Why was I....
"...betrayal...", whispers Aym, suddenly gaining brief volume before subsiding again. It's odd what you can get used to, but sometimes you just wonder when you're going to get one voice up there too many and you'll wind up in the Gatehouse yourself.
"Take him to the Gatehouse, he's gone barmy"
"...blood of...people...blood of the stone....so much..."
Reghar collapses in a heap, fatigued, blood still oozing out of his many wounds.
“So much for yer mate,” comments Thorn, glancing down at the collapsed half orc, before twitching his head again, his tail slapping at his rump. “Box, don’t shout at me, I have no idea what you mean – everyone keeps shouting at me - and don’t help the berk, we don’t know who they are. Help me get this one,” he gestures to the metal-mouthed man, “to the Gatehouse, then we can get on with … you know … why we’re here.”
Guess I shouldn’t have traded that tanglefoot bag for nose candy. Here’s hoping the enchantment wears off before we get to the Gatehouse. Might as well show him what barmy looks like.
Rennet puts away the scythe without bothering to clean it, retrieves a trio of wooden spheres from his pack, and begins juggling. Badly.
Reghar's vision swims, the blood pounding in his temples subsiding. You suddenly feel very dizzy and nauseous. Gasping and panting, you fall to the tavern floor. As soon as you hit the floorboards, though, you start to feel a little better; especially when your flesh starts to nit back together. Taking deep, grateful breaths of the musty tavern air, you ease yourself into a sitting position.
You hear a raised voice from upstairs.
Kev/Deris:
Through your tense confrontation, you can hear the sounds of combat subside below. The place is eerily quiet without a barmy half-man screaming about "Survival of the Fittest" like some Taker drill sergeant.
"If you can blast me like you say, then it doesn't matter if you can see me or not," Deris says, trying to keep her voice level. Not quite sure what this pretty boy was, she quickly scans what she can see of the second floor, hoping that his spell didn't draw more yuan-ti out. Not that it mattered if he was what he said he was, honestly.
"Maybe we can make a deal?"
"Fine." Kev says, lowering his hand and letting the light fade. Blinking to adjust to the sudden darkness he says "Alright, now I'm hoping that we can discuss this like reasonable adults at least I assume you're an adult and that our reasons for being here aren't mutually exclusive. What're you proposing?"
“So much for yer mate,” comments Thorn, glancing down at the collapsed half orc, before twitching his head again, his tail slapping at his rump. “Box, don’t shout at me, I have no idea what you mean – everyone keeps shouting at me - and don’t help the berk, we don’t know who they are. Help me get this one,” he gestures to the metal-mouthed man, “to the Gatehouse, then we can get on with … you know … why we’re here.”
O.L.L.I. ponders the proper method of dealing with the illogic that has been planted in Thorn's brain.
"Friend and fellow adventurer Thorn. Our mission was not to bring this being to the Gatehouse. Our mission was to investigate this 'kip' and collect information. We are not of the Bleaker faction, this being's mental state is not of concern to us. This unit suggests we resume our primary directive and continue to gather information. If you wish to be helpful, please help this unit secure this ophidian being, perhaps with a blindfold and gag to prevent further incidents of mesmerization."
"Hey, little rats! Come down! This party is big enough for everyone! Mwahahaha!" Reghar laughs maniacally.
"This Enoch fellow better come up with the dough!"
“Look at him Box, he’s completely balmy,” says Thorn, gesturing to the now juggling man, and frowning slightly in the direction of the half orc, whom, he’s rather annoyed to see, seems to be in good health after all. The box better not have just healed someone we need to fight, he thinks.
“But …” his horned head twitches again, and he blinks rapidly, “you’re right, we’re sure as the Hells not Bleakers. And yeah … we got a job – how’d I forget that? We can take the crazy to the Gatehouse once we’re done here I suppose … You,” he points to the armoured man, “don’t go anywhere right? I’m taking you somewhere safe and cozy like just as soon as I’m done here.”
He trots back around to face O.L.L.I. “Now, who are those snake folk?” He comes over to help the modron with his task, “And where’d the pretty boy go? Is that him up above? Sounds like he’s not alone…”
O.L.L.I computes that the mesmerization effect on Thorn must be decaying from time. He continues gagging and blindfolding the yuan-ti. When Thorn approaches he pitches his sonic communications to a register that only Thorn can hear.
"Fellow adventurer Thorn. This unit is not sure who these ophidians are but it is a logical correlation that they will have come to this place for the same reason we have: To ascertain the whereabouts of the proxy of Demogorgon. This unit would also infer with a 90.6% chance of accuracy that the other beings currently in the house are also so engaged. The proxy of Demogorgon has obviously attracted much attention and gained many ememies during his patron's reign in the Abyss. "
"Fine." Kev says, lowering his hand and letting the light fade. Blinking to adjust to the sudden darkness he says "Alright, now I'm hoping that we can discuss this like reasonable adults at least I assume you're an adult and that our reasons for being here aren't mutually exclusive. What're you proposing?"
"A joining of forces, at least until we figure out what other beasties are hiding in this dump," Deris said, keeping her voice neutrel. The half orc downstairs was beginning to annoy her but she focused on the task at hand.
Replacing the wooden balls in his pack, Rennet waves to the curious cube creature, then points at the yaun-ti. Indicating his own wrists one at a time, Rennet shakes his head no vigorously before approaching cautiously.
O.L.L.I observes the approach of the curious humanoid with the plated mouth. He waves back, then attempts to discern exactly what he is trying to convey with his sign language.
"Attention sonically-challenged humanoid. Please maintain a distance from the prisoner and my companion Thorn. Thorn is under a mesmerization effect this ophidian put on him, and this unit is afraid your proximity will reamaken it. Can you communicate in another fashion? This unit carries writing supplies."
Keeping an eye out on Rennet and his prisoner, O.L.L.I rummages in his vest for a quill, ink and some paper.
“Yer trying to reason with this balmy?” mutters Thorn, eyeing the metal-mouthed man and the half orc warily. “He’s completely mad. Look at the poor sod, he thinks we should let go the thing that was just trying to kill him … or take him to the Gatehouse or something …” he trails off.
Reghar ignores the comments of the talking goat. "What you guys here for?"
The yuan-ti's blood sizzles on the floor for a moment, then finally cools, leaving another stain on the worn tavern floor. Ther vermin in the room have mostly retreated to the corners; they seem to have no interest in the corpse. The more brazen cockroaches and snakes return to the pile of stripped corpses behind the bar.
Making a wide circle around Thorn, Rennet retrieves the paper and ink from Olli.
On paper: Greetings, I am Rennet. I am seeking a (specific) skull…are we all here looking for the same thing? Question the thing or kill it, but I’m afraid I can’t allow you to hold it captive.
Thorn trots around to look over O.L.L.I. at the note, has gaze flicking between it and the two strangers. After a moment he snorts – a distinctly goat-like noise – and mutters something unintelligible – it might be “You can't allow us?” – then says “I have no intention of lugging a prisoner around. Very tedious. We’ll question it, then kill it or let it go depending on how it answers. Until then it remains restrained. If manacles don’t do it for you metal-mouth, you can be in charge of holding its hand.”
Thorn then looks at O.L.L.I. “I want to look around this place a bit before it wakes up. See what pretty-boy’s up to up there,” he gestures upwards with his head, “and try to figure out where Enoch’s gotten to.”
In the meantime though, he skirts around the half orc and looks down at the pile of bodies, looks around for a back way out or anything out of the ordinary.
"Fine." Kev says, lowering his hand and letting the light fade. Blinking to adjust to the sudden darkness he says "Alright, now I'm hoping that we can discuss this like reasonable adults at least I assume you're an adult and that our reasons for being here aren't mutually exclusive. What're you proposing?""A joining of forces, at least until we figure out what other beasties are hiding in this dump," Deris said, keeping her voice neutrel. The half orc downstairs was beginning to annoy her but she focused on the task at hand.
Kev considers for a moment before saying "Alright, a joining of forces. The name's Kev."
O.L.L.I observes the written note.
"Greetings being appelated 'Rennet'. This unit's apppelation is Oil Lube Initializer, but for brevity most beings call this unit 'Olli'. We are not searching for a skull, we have come here in an investigatory function.
Query: Why do you search for a specific skull? Is there some necromantic function you wish to discover? Or is it a effort to discover some chiropractic knowledge?
Query: Why does the restraining of an obviously dangerous felonius ophidian upset you? Have no fear that this unit will mistreat him, that would be most chaotic in action.
Query: What is the function of the metal plate affixed to your primary communicative orifice? Does it serve some practical function, or is it merely an affectation of that mode of conciousness known as style?
Query: ..."
O.L.L.I seems to be building up quite a head of steam, and unless someone cuts him short will probably pepper Rennet with questions.
“Shut it Box,” growls Thorn from the other side of the room as he looks around. “He’s balmy, remember? And unless you have a few of old Shactal’s books in yer pack there, yer not going to have enough paper for him to answer all that.”
"Anyone here know Enas Enoch?"
O.L.L.I turns to his companion Thorn, looking earnestly at him (for an animated steamer trunk that is)
"Oh but friend and fellow-adventurer Thorn, this unit alwys comes supplied with at least a hundred sheets of good-quality parchment."
O.L.L.I grasps the ream of paper from his backpack and shows it to Thorn.
"So you see that the being known as Rennet will be able to answer all of my queries with no fear of resorting to vandalizing books from the Lady's Library. Such an act would be unlawful in any case. According to the Sigillian Municpal Code, Law 34-678x, subsection C ...."
O.L.L.I regales Thorn with a recitation of the laws pertaining to writing in library books and the sentences that Guvner judges are permitted to mete out to said perpetrators.
Thorn shakes his head and rolls his eyes (at O.L.L.I.), and then turns to the half-orc, looking at him thoughtfully for a moment. “I might ask the same of you. I’m looking for him. He’s a popular fellow just at the now.”
"Owes me money. What he owe you?"
"I'm after jink too," answers Thorn, scratching his bearded chin and wrinkling his nose slightly. "It goes a way to explain his popularity, him owing so many cutters money... Is the balmy with you?" Thorn jerks his head back towards Rennet.
"Just met him today. I am Reghar Bloodseeker. I smash heads at the Styx."
“The Styx Oarsman?” Thorn whistles, and scratches his chin again. “Demon bar right?” He speaks nonchalantly, but grips his sickle a little tighter.
… enemies … betrayal … blood … gold … whispers Aym.
“I am Thorn, buck of Gort, of the Clovenwood,” he says, and almost reaches for something at his belt before jerking his hand back away and shaking his head slightly, frowning.
"Yup. Them demons are sissies throw a bunch of fancy water on them and they wilt."
Noticing that no one is paying attention to his informative recitation of the Sigillian Municipal Code, O.L.L.I changes gear (literally)
"It seems that there will be many beings anxious to discover the whereabouts of former proxy of Demogorgon Enoch. Perhaps we should all combine our strenghts, increasing the probabilities of successful discovery?"
Kev considers for a moment before saying "Alright, a joining of forces. The name's Kev.""Fine." Kev says, lowering his hand and letting the light fade. Blinking to adjust to the sudden darkness he says "Alright, now I'm hoping that we can discuss this like reasonable adults at least I assume you're an adult and that our reasons for being here aren't mutually exclusive. What're you proposing?""A joining of forces, at least until we figure out what other beasties are hiding in this dump," Deris said, keeping her voice neutrel. The half orc downstairs was beginning to annoy her but she focused on the task at hand.
"Excellent, Kev. Let's see how close we can get to this little fly before the spider shows back up," she said as she took a few steps closer to the door way.
Thorn surveys the pile of corpses behind the bar; they're all wounded one way or another. Some, a single gaping wound in the side or the chest, or a head lolling over at an obscene angle. Others seem to have been nicked and cut to death with a lot of tiny wounds. They're just about all naked, with the exception of a half-elf with a leather hood still on and maybe an odd boot or empty scabbard here or there.
Behind the pile of corpses there's an open doorway into the back of the tavern, rusted hinges hinting that there was once a door. Within you can see a little bit of detritus on the floor; broken glass, maybe a shattered crate. It's too dark to get a detailed view from your vantage point.
“Looks like we’re on the same side for now,” says Thorn, turning back from the darkened doorway to Reghar. “I need to keep an eye on the balmy until I can get him to safety anyway… I’m going to check out this room back here.”
Thorn trots into the room and looks around, his darkvision easily penetrating the gloomy lighting conditions.
Seeing that the immediate danger is past, O.L.L.I keeps an eye on his prisoner and scans the ruined room for any items of interest.
Seeing that the immediate danger is past, O.L.L.I keeps an eye on his prisoner and scans the ruined room for any items of interest.
O.L.L.I's ocular organs scan the common room back to front. Beyond the scuffed floors that are to be expected in a run-down tavern, the modron notes:
-A number of scores in the wall, likely from slashing implements (some quite large) wielded with murderous intent.
-Spots of what you are 75% certain are dried blood, likely humanoid. A red-brown trail leads from the common room center to behind the bar. Conjecture: Something heavy (or perhaps several heavy items) that was leaking a great deal of blood was dragged behind the bar
-The vermin in the room seem drawn particularly to the area behind the bar.
-Mold is growing in patches on the ceiling, and the building is abnormally humid. Conjecture: could the ophidians have something to do with that?
The yuan-ti are wearing good quality studded leather armour and wield well crafted weapons, but other useful items are either well-hidden from a quick look or not extent on the premises.