Session 4.2: Dark Places and Reality Hopping
The roaring fireplace gives the room a soft glow, illuminating it for a family of Invarrians sitting upon the rich furs on the floor. One black-furred and fully grown male, holds a black and white youngster, barely three years old while the other adult, a black and white female struggles with the other three pups, trying to get them under the blanket.
"Hush now pups, and I will tell you about the feared Odon the Black." - Haelfa Oakenshield, to her children whilst settling them down for bed.
"I don't want to hear about Odon, Ma. Tell us about Olorin Shipbreaker instead!" - Hosker Oakenshield.
"No, we head about him last night! Tell us about Manda Silvertongue!" - Helga Oakenshield, lightly batting at her brother's head.
"Come now children, you need to take what you are given. Your mother has offered to tell you a story of Odon the Black. Come listen with me and Harold..." - Hendrik Oakenshield, holding a young Harold Oakenshield tightly...Welcome to Session 4.2
“Hello, you lost The Game!” – LD.
For posterity, we played Dorito Roulette and it was outstanding, awesome, really good value, hilarious and such a good idea. Only Sins was unimpressed. I was the first to get a spicy one, and it did screw me up for the rest of the day.
We did lose Opal for this session as she had family issues to deal with, but we hope that she will slot back in neatly over the next session or two. To explain this, Therressa has taken off to deliver a reply from Harold to his sister, Helga on Varr. We left our intrepid heroes at the Blackmane Inn where they discussed their next moves regarding the murders plaguing Urik’s Landing.
“Didn’t we choose this mission because we were sick of dealing with dark magic? And what do we find? Supernatural killings. Damn it guys!” – Sins.It is early evening and the companions have just finished having dinner.
- The first murder: Berrilynn, Northmann girl, 22 years old. An outlander from the north, and serving girl at the Irontusk Inn. Found cloven in half on the side of the main street and missing most of her internal organs.
- The second murder: Northmann girl, 19 years old. A farm girl from an outlying hamlet. No one is sure of her name as the hamlet was found devastated by a Dwergar border raid from Nordtarnet after her death. Missing only the bones from her legs.
- The third murder: Northmann girl, 27 years old. Stablehand at the Irontusk Inn. Missing all her limbs.
- The fourth murder: Midlander girl, 21 years old. Daughter of Hav Goldfingers, a merchant aligned with the Blackmanes. Missing only her face.
- The last murder: Approximately 24 years old. Serving girl at the Blackmane Inn, daughter of Orolf Anvil-Hand, the smith who plies his trade outside Lordshall.
Naturally this information is incomplete, but it is accurate.
“Well, we went to where they found the first body and we didn’t find much. We did find this amulet and there are traces of a preserving spell.” – Maebh, to the group. Breanna puts the iron amulet down in the centre of the table for everyone to see.
Therressa had left the iron amulet found in the snow where a body had been left, with Breanna before departing the Landing, and so the Leathe and Maebh study it together to see if they can find out anything important. Unfortunately, they don’t turn up anything more than what they already saw earlier. The amulet itself is mundane in nature, however it was certainly in the vicinity of the preservation spell which was likely cast on the corpse.
As soon as he sees it however, Tremor snatches it away. It seems like only an instant to everyone else at the table, but to Tremor it feels like an eternity as he stares at the dagger etched into the iron pendant.
“This is a thing of evil. You will be familiar with it soon.” – Haunting female voice…
Tremor gets the feeling that the amulet itself is not what she is referring to, but the magic which sits in a web around the iron.
It is far too cold outside, so they decide not to do anything until the next day and they retreat to their rooms for the rest of the night.
* * *
The morning arrives and the weather has cleared substantially. It is still very cold and grey, but it is no longer death weather, as Ladyhawk put so well.
Most of the companions go to Jurdric’s practise, save for Harold who instead goes to Theyne Embermald’s long hall.
Maebh, Tremor, Kel’Serrar and Breanna:Tremor knocks on the door to the surgery and it is opened by Endric, Doktor Jurdric’s son.
“And what can we do for you today?” – Endric, towering over all four companions. He cannot recognise Kel’Serrar, who has picked a random man of the crew of the
Winter Wind to look like today, the better to blend into the townsfolk.
“We would like to inspect the most recent murder victim.” – Maebh, blunt.
“Are you the godsfolk? To take her down to the sea?” – Endric, sceptical.
“No, we are not.” – Tremor, gruff.
“No? Then why are you here to bother the dead?” – Endric, arms crossed.
“We want to examine her to find the killer.” – Maebh.
“I don’t know what kind of heathen traditions you hold to in the south, but we do not do that here. Unless you are here for treatment, clear off.” – Endric.
“I’ll take him out at the kneecaps.” – Wings.
“Looks like a job for the possum.” – LD.“If you want the killer to be found before he kills more people, you will let us see the body.” – Maebh, with a dangerous gleam in her eye.
Endric gives them a worried look, which grows steadily more concerned as Maebh’s hands start to crackle with power.
“Fine, come on through. Just don’t burn anything.” – Endric, holding the door open.
The body of the girl is laid out upon a stone table. And she is a mess.
Harold:Harold Oakenshield inspects each of the murder sites marked on his map. The Invarrian’s powerful nose can pick up the scent of dark magic, but that is just about all he can find. There would appear to be no blood splatters or any signs of struggle in the vicinity of where the bodies were found, which is in keeping with the information they already had.
Unfortunately, Harold is disadvantaged by the fact that the most recent murder was still several nights ago and there has been a lot of wind and snow since the body was moved.
He moves on to Lordshall on the hill to the north-east of the town, thinking to examine the theyne’s personal archive to find any information he can on serial killers in the town’s history.
Maebh, Tremor, Kel’Serrar and Breanna:The companions start to closely examine the corpse on the stone table. Within moments, they have all uncovered some startling information. Kel’Serrar is able to determine that the magic which permeates the girl’s flesh is preserving in nature, while Breanna recognises that the daemonic energy used to power the spell had an affinity to ice.
Most troubling is Maebh's discovery.
"Whoever did this is formally trained in the arcane." - Maebh, grim.
"Hmm, so a warlock with formal training. There are very few places where one can get training in the black arts, so there's a good chance this person is more than just an amateur warlock. He could be a mage too." - Breanna, arms crossed.
"How long were we on that ship?" - Sins.
"About two months."
"And the first killing was around two months ago... Anyone else picking up on the ice affinity too? Ice-based preserving spells and a massive snowstorm which almost killed us and isolated the town." - Sins.
"It's a bit obvious don't you think?" - Dev.
"Maybe, but it's really bothering me. I'm pretty sure they're connected." - Sins.
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The poor girl has been cut from clavicle to navel and her ribcage removed from the body, seemingly without disturbing the rest of the body. It's quite astounding really and great care was taken not to damage anything.
Doktor Jurdric walks in, followed by his apprentice, Welyn, a much shorter, dark-haired man, obviously a Midlander.
"What in all the hells are you doing in here?" - Jurdric, of the companions as soon as his rheumy eyes fall upon them.
"Examining the body." - Maebh, coolly.
"It's okay father, I allowed them in." - Endric, laying a calming hand on his father's shoulder. The old doktor throws the hand off and grumbles about their presence, but says nothing further to them. Welyn approaches the table.
"So, what have you found?" - Welyn, hopeful.
"That's none of your concern." - Maebh.
"I've been trying to piece it all together myself actually. If you tell me what you've found I will share my notes on the other bodies with you. It's the only way you'll find out about them, as they're all at the bottom of the ocean now." - Welyn, helpfully.
"Okay, then. Let's talk." - Tremor.
The companions thank Endric for his time and leave, Welyn leading them to his accommodation.
Harold:Approaching Lordshall, Harold is stopped at the top of the stairs by a doorward, a large man clad in heavy leathers and a thick wool and fur cloak. A massive roundshield strapped over his shoulder and a hand on the broadsword at his belt, the doorward is an imposing sight, but Harold has dealt with his kind before.
"Halt! What business does a reaver have in the halls of Southreach royalty?" - Doorward, challenging.
"Does not an Invarrian rule from this hall? Would he not see a kinsman?" - Harold.
"No, the theyne is a Northmann, of one of the purest bloodlines in Unterguardt, not a mere salt-drenched sea-wolf." - Doorward, derisive.
"And neither am I. I am a man of wisdom seeking new knowledge in your lord's hall. I wish to consult his archives." - Harold, lying about not being a salt-drenched sea-wolf. But his motive was honest.
"So you're book-learned?" - Doorward, that derisive tone not leaving his voice.
"Aye, that I am." - Harold.
The Invarrian is shown inside and into the theyne's archive, a large underground room lit only by a single closed lantern on a lonely desk. The theyne's book-keeper is a friendly old man, his grey eyes sunken deep into his skull and his hair long since having abandoned his skull. Despite his friendliness, the book-keeper passes on a grave warning.
"The theyne is not a man of great learning but he treasures his archive. Damage anything and you will pay. And if you cannot pay, you will die." - Book-keeper, patting Harold conciliatorily on the arm.
The Invarrian had seen the massive theyne holding court in the hall as he passed through to the archive, and even from a distance and at rest, the man looked capable of crushing a marcwolf's skull with his bare hands.
"Hey PG, what is the symbol for the doctor here?" - Wings, out of nowhere.
"Uh... an... anchor. Yeah, an anchor."
"Well that doesn't make any less sense than, you know, a snake coiled around a staff or something." - Dev.
"You see, it is seen that those who practise medicine and see to your ailments and illnesses and injuries and the like are your anchor to life itself."
"Well done PG. Wonderful use of improv." - Sins.
"Damn I'm good!" - Laughing, and quoting Ace Ventura.Maebh, Tremor, Kel’Serrar and Breanna:It quickly becomes apparent that Welyn is leading the companions to the Irontusk Inn, which naturally the companions cannot enter on pain of death.
Well, Kel'Serrar could easily do so by just taking another identity, which he has practically been doing none stop since he manifested the ability to do so.
And Breanna probably could by a combination of climbing, vaulting and sneaking.
And Tremor could potentially dig a tunnel which came up directly under Welyn's room within the next day.
And Maebh could still set the whole place on fire, teach them a valuable lesson about angering mages with meaningless feuds and damn the consequences.
But none of them do as such, instead having Welyn go in and collect the notes by himself and bring them out to neutral ground.
How's that, the players turned down an opportunity to murder-hobo in a town. Who says PC's can't change their ways?Upon returning with a selection of notebooks, the companions get a special dispensation from Alrik, the Blackmane barkeep, to allow Welyn to come in an sit in the common room, without need to fear for his personal safety. Alrik agrees, but refuses to serve the man, which Welyn wearily agrees to.
Breanna tells the apprentice doktor of what they found out about the girl, while her other companions pore over Welyn's books. He started his investigations immediately after the first girl was killed. She was an outlander, much like him so his fear at the time was that he was next. The fact that she was his sweetheart and they had travelled south together only made the fear worse. It wasn't long after the murders began that Welyn began to start questioning the possibility of transplants and why the organ of a healthy woman cannot replace the organs of an unhealthy one.
He theorises that the murderer might in fact be that, a woman using the body parts to rejuvenate herself.
He also draws out a worn sulver from his pocket.
"I found this in the snow next to the corpse of the third girl, a 27 year old stablehand from the Irontusk Inn. I knew her, a little, and she was not well-travelled. So it surprised me when I saw where this was minted." - Welyn, passing Tremor the old coin.
Engraved on the back of the coin, the symbol of the Brilliant Towers of Drell.
The foremost centre of magical learning in Norbayne, the Brilliant Towers are an island fortress far to the south. Noble families all over Norbayne often send second sons and the like to the Towers as it brings prestige to the family.
The Towers are more than a school, but are rather a way of life as students are tutored in every portion of how they live their lives. It is a demanding place and few are able to see their education through to the end, but those who do are some of the most focussed and magically powerful beings in the known world.
The apprentice also passes on information they already knew, in that there have never been any tracks around the bodies and that the injuries caused are only those which seem to have been inflicted to obtain whatever parts the killer was after. For example, the only injury inflicted upon the girl who had her face torn off was exactly that, the loss of her face. What actually killed her is still unknown.
Harold:The history of the town is very dry reading, and Harold quickly finds himself struggling to stay awake. Strangely enough, even in the official records, the origins of the Blackmane and Irontusk feud are very vague.
As to any mention of historical killings, Urik's Landing, for what it is, has always been reasonably peaceful. Even when it was ruled by the Invarrians, the Landing was still ruled by whoever wielded the biggest sword. And when it wasn't, it was the man who threw the biggest fireballs. Law in the town has always been simple too. If you were wronged, you were fully within rights to go murder them. So for what it was, the town has always been reasonably peaceful.
About a hundred years ago the town tried to secede from the kingdom of Southreach but were unsuccessful. And that's just about it really. No serial killings. Plenty of killing, whether accidental, or condoned vengeance, but no one prowling the streets and preying on the populace.
"No history of serial killers and now they just had five enter... This is going to apocalyptic for them." - Sins.On the other hand, browsing through a census from over two hundred years ago reveals that Odon the Black was born and lived in the Landing for some time. No information is given, but Harold knows the story well.
Odon the Black was a feared Invarrian sorceror and the subject of many Invarrian bedtime tales. They were some of Harold's favourite stories growing up, but he can't remember much in the way of details now.
"My friend, what do you know of Odon the Black?" - Harold, to the theyne's book-keeper.
"Well, he was born and raised here, but he left after his twentieth nameday and his well-known reign of terror was conducted to the south." - Book-keeper.
"Would any of his own books be found in this archive?" - Harold.
"I rather doubt it, but I will search for you if you would like." - Book-keeper, happy to help.
"That would be great. I will return tomorrow around the same time to see if you have found anything." - Harold, shaking the man's hand and taking his leave. He has devised a plan and needs to fill in his companions.
Maebh, Tremor, Kel’Serrar and Breanna:"So, Welyn, do you know of any outlanders that may have come from the far south?" - Maebh, turning the coin over in her fingers.
"To my knowledge, there is no one in the town who is actually a Southron. The one name which springs to mind is the theyne's court wizard, Heimdar. He may have been trained at the Towers, but he is from Southreach originally." - Welyn.
"And where are you from?" - Maebh.
"The Gwyrai woods, to the west of your homelands. I have not seen the woods for many years now." - Welyn.
"Well, I hope that one day you get the chance to go back there. Meanwhile, I must go speak with this court wizard." - Maebh, standing to leave.
Breanna and Kel'Serrar make to follow and the three of them turn to see Harold walk into the inn, freshly returned from his library visit. Tremor stays seated to finish his latest alcoholic conquest and Harold joins him, passing the others on his way to the table with a friendly nod.
Maebh, Kel'Serrar and Breanna:The three companions traipse off to Lordshall and make their way to the top of the stone stairway.
"Well then, more newcomers. This is unusual. State your business." - The doorward, who is still imposing.
It must be said that a lithe and wild-looking Danann and a dark-clad Leathe are not the kind that he would usually be turning away. The rough and ragged sailor Kel'Serrar is impersonating, with exaggerated rolling walk is more the kind he deals with.
"I would see Heimdar the wizard. I wish to know if we were fellow students at the Brilliant Towers." - Maebh, imperiously.
"I will find out if he will see you, stay here." - Doorward, turning his great, fur-covered shoulders and striding into the longhall.
"You studied at the Towers?" - Breanna, whispering, eyes wide.
"No." - Maebh, hissing between her clenched teeth.
The doorward swiftly returns.
"He will not see you. I am sorry." - Doorward, apologetically.
"Why not?" - Maebh, sharp.
"Because he is otherwise engaged and regardless, he is not disposed to open his door to any vagrant who shows up on his doorstep and begs entrance." - The doorward, who then raises his hands innocently. "His words, not mine."
"A moment, please." - Maebh, to the doorward. She then turns her back and beckons her companions in close.
"The way I see it is, we have three options. Option one, we go in there and talk to the jarl and see what he knows and how he can help us. Option two, we leave now, come back tonight and capture the wizard. Or option three, we go in hands blazing." - Maebh, whispering.
"I'm for shanking him in the knee." - Breanna cheerfully.
"Is there any way I can see him? What is his schedule for the day?" - Maebh, turning back to the doorward.
"I rather doubt it. As to his schedule, well he locks himself in his room all day, presumably doing spellwork. He emerges only for food or as commanded by the theyne, who only calls on him sparingly. And then he goes back in, I guess for more spellwork." - Doorward.
"What time does he come out for food?" - Maebh, latching onto an idea.
The doorward names a time in the early evening.
"And I would be allowed into the messhall at this time?" - Maebh, continuing on her track.
"I don't see why not..." - Doorward.
"Excellent. I shall see you then." - Maebh, turning on her heel and returning to the Blackmane Inn.
Breanna and Kel'Serrar exchange concerned looks and follow her back.
* * *
The three return to the inn to find that Welyn has left and that Harold has been trying to discuss the coming move into Nordtarnet with Tremor. The dwarf would usually have been quite attentive to this conversation, but as the days passed found himself growing more and more preoccupied with the knowledge he gleaned from the manuscripts found in the Wolf King's lair.
Script which he could make neither heads nor tails of just weeks ago was suddenly starting to make a very real and frightening sense. He starts to get a feeling that a lot of what he is reading about, all of a sudden, he could do. This scares him a little, as murdering lots of people, raising them from the dead and then taking over large swathes of the countryside had never really occurred to him before. Now though, now, he looks forward to it in a detached kind of way.
The companions eat lunch and discuss their next moves, and it is decided that rumour-mongering is the plan. Harold and Kel’Serrar head to the marketplace to gather some information, Maebh and Breanna to the gates to talk to the guards and Tremor to Lordshall.
Tremor:"Another stranger. What is your business here?" - Doorward, surprised.
"I wish to see the court wizard." - Tremor, gruff.
"You are not the first to seek audience with him today. He is unlikely to agree to a meeting." - Doorward, frowning.
"Tell him I have some scrolls of an unknown nature that I would like him to have a look at." - Tremor.
The guard nods and turns to enter the hall, but abruptly stops and turns back to Tremor.
"And where did you find these scrolls?" - Doorward, curious.
"In the highest tower of an undead mad king to the south." - Tremor, truthfully.
"I see." - Doorward, eyes widening.
The guard is gone for only a short moment before returning.
"Master Heimdar will see you immediately." - Doorward, showing Tremor in.
The court wizard's personal quarters are a small annex off the northern wing of the hall. Upon being led through a carefully engraved wooden door, Tremor takes in a sparsely furnished room. The one concession to vanity is a large mirror on the wall across from the doorway, its frame carved with intricate runes.
Tremor's vision snaps back and again he can see the great burning pine before him.
"THERE!" - The mysterious female voice.
The Dwergar gets the feeling she is pointing accusingly at the runes before them. He has only a split second to ponder this before he is snapped back into the real world, the after image of the burning pine imprinted on his mind.
Heimdar himself is small for a Northmann, a situation not helped by the way he stoops. He looks more ancient than he is, in part due to the long grey beard which obscures most of his face and trails down to mid-chest. He is clad in a long dark grey robe of coarse wool.
The wizard gives Tremor a strange look as the Dwergar's eyes clear. It takes a moment for him to blink away the effects of the vision, but is soon able to see Heimdar standing next to his desk, a sturdy wooden affair covered in arcane manuscripts.
The wizard extends a hand in greeting and the dwarf hurries forward to shake it.
"Well met, my name is Barandin Stonefist." - Tremor, hiding his true identity.
"Stonefist eh? Cousin to the Ironfists... Well I wouldn't go north my friend, it is a bad time for your family up there by all the accounts which have come south. May I offer you a drink and a seat?" - Heimdar, in a friendly manner.
The wizard calls in a servant to attend their needs, bringing a wooden chair for Tremor and then two flagons of mead from the theyne's cellar.
"So, let's get down to business. You have some things you wish me to look at, and I very much would like to see them. I hear something about an undead king?" - Heimdar, cradling his flagon.
"Aye, an ancient kingdom in the Midlands whose king had come back to wreak vengeance upon the living. We slew him and I raided his library." - Tremor, setting his flagon down and pulling forth the scrolls from his backpack.
"Ah, now these are interesting." - Heimdar, taking the scrolls from Tremor and examining them one at a time.
For his part, the Dwergar enjoys his mead and is drawn over and over again to the runes around the frame of the mirror. His mind starts to wander and he can hear the very faintest of otherworldly screams. In his current state, to Tremor it sounds like the screams are coming from within the mirror. Blue flames rush across the surface of the reflection then and he gasps.
The apparition vanishes, and the mirror's reflection is as it should be.
"I said is anything wrong?" - Heimdar, concerned. Tremor notices that the wizard has set the scroll aside and is looking worriedly at the dwarven engineer.
"Aye, nothing the matter. I was just admiring your mirror. I am a runecrafter myself you see and I am impressed by the craftsmanship on display there." - Tremor.
"The mirror is a family heirloom of mine. I must confess I have no idea what purpose they serve, but I keep the mirror as it reminds me of my family, of whom I have nothing else left." - Heimdar, taking another draught of mead.
"I see. Now, would you happen to know about a burning pine?" - Tremor, fishing for information.
Any warmth on the man's face, of which there was very little to begin with, flees.
"The symbol of the one the peoples of Norbayne called the Witch-Queen of the North, Kresimina. Centuries ago, Kresimina sought out the secrets of an endless life, specifically a life in which time could not diminish her beauty nor her power. None can say for certain whether she achieved that goal or not, as she just disappeared from all records. She is considered a figure of dread in the histories and legends of many northern kingdoms." - Heimdar, gravely.
"I saw a mention of it on a tapestry in the south and had no idea what it referred to." - Tremor, lying again.
"Hmm, interesting that relics of her reign have drifted so far. Her predations were restricted to the very northern kingdoms of Norbayne. If ever you come across that tapestry again, I would be very willing to buy it from you." - Heimdar.
"We did not take it with us unfortunately, but I do have some other pieces which might interest you." - Tremor, fishing out the Slates of Anagas from his pack.
One of the pieces which was taken from the Wolf King's library, this set of carved shale slates is contained in an engraved pewter cover. Despite the sheer amount of work which went into carving the stone with the tightly packed runes, the volume appears to be illegible gibberish.
"Oh my, this is something indeed." - Heimdar, running a hand appraisingly over the engravings on the cover.
"Taken from the same king's personal library. I have no knowledge of the language they are written in." - Tremor, finishing his mead.
"I am very interested in this. May I keep it? For now of course. I think I may be able to decipher it, though it would take some time to do so. I would be willing to pay obviously." - Heimdar, engrossed in the carvings.
"Yes, if I can get a copy of the translation when you are done." - Tremor, haggling.
They settle on Tremor providing the scrolls and Slates of Anagas for Heimdar's research. In return he receives 26 sulvers, a promise that he will receive a translated copy when the work is done, and the opportunity to copy down the runes around Heimdar's mirror.
Both men feel confident that they have come out first in this deal.
Before leaving, Tremor extracts a pledge that the translations of the scrolls will be complete within the week.
Maebh and Breanna:The two girls head to the guards at the gatehouse and are generally unsuccessful, the guards here proving to be a rather close-mouthed lot, unlike their kin in other lands. They do stress the danger of being outside the walls after dark.
A large creature stalks the marshes to the north, preying on the hamlets and their livestock. Just a few nights past, a girl was killed and her father mauled and left in a death-like sleep.
"It never rains, it pours." - Sins.Harold and Kel'Serrar:Harold and Kel'Serrar on the other hand have more luck rumour-mongering in the market, and quickly deduce that the common folk generally still believe that Welyn, the friendly apprentice doktor, is to blame for the murders. Lately though, public opinion is starting to shift towards him due to his open and friendly nature.
There is also a lot of talk about the creature terrorising the outlying hamlets.
The companions return to the Blackmane Inn to discuss their next move. It is late afternoon and the weak sunlight is starting to fade in the sky.
"I have a strong feeling that the wizard up in Lordshall is the one we should be following up on." - Maebh, nursing a flagon of water.
"Well I just gave him some stuff I needed translated, so you can't kill him for a week." - Tremor, brooking no argument.
"I have made a promise that I would meet him this evening." - Maebh.
"Promise? Threat more like." - Breanna, laughing and drawing a friendly swipe from Maebh.
"Whatever. My point is, I can hardly back down on this now." - Maebh, turning her attention back to Tremor.
"I need that stuff translated. Leave him be for a week. You can kill him after that if you must." - Tremor, taking a drink.
"I do have a plan to try and draw out this murderer." - Harold, leaning across the table.
"Yes, what is this plan?" - Breanna, eating a peach.
"Well, as we have seen, Kel'Serrar here is quite adept at changing his face." Harold, turning to Kel'Serrar, who has taken on the shape and form of yet another Northmann sailor from the ship which brought them to Urik's Landing. "How would you like to be bait?"
"I'm sorry, what?" - LD.
"Yeah, don't worry LD I heard 'baked' too." - Ladyhawk.
"As did I. I was just trying to figure out if he meant marijuna or just cooking Kel'Serrar into a pie.
'You know how you can change your appearance? Well good, I want you to turn into pastry goodness." "Not greatly, but then I do rarely like your plans so it is no worse than usual." - Kel'Serrar, sardonic.
"Good, then I believe you should change your appearance into that of a human woman and go out onto the street tonight to see what comes up." - Harold, ignoring the pessimism.
"This is an absolutely awful plan and I will make your life hell for this." - Kel'Serrar, resigned.
"So, no worse than usual. We are agreed that we will do this?" - Harold, getting one back on the surly ranger.
"If it is the wizard and he does come out, can we kill him then Tremor?" - Maebh.
"Yes, if he attacks one of us, then yes. He's fair game." - Tremor, shrugging.
* * *
And so that sees Kel'Serrar, in the guise of Dhara Silverwood standing on the main street outside the Blackmane Inn, looking nervously at every shadow and fingering the knife at his/her belt. All of his/her other weapons were left inside the inn, much to Kel'Serrar's consternation.
All around him, the rest of his companions lie in wait, ready to spring into action should something assault the ranger/damsel.
A sound comes from an alleyway further into the town and behind the Irontusk Inn, but even Kel'Serrar's sharp ears cannot pick up what it is. He/she is on edge, when a small black cat emerges from around the corner of the Irontusk Inn. The cat takes one look at the lonely woman standing on the street and bolts away into the shadows.
Almost an hour passes with no more disturbance, as Kel'Serrar paces up and down the street. His companions have hunkered down and are doing their best to stay warm, but it is a futile effort. The ice has solidified in both Harold's and Breanna's fur and Tremor's beard is practically shimmering in the waning moonlight. Only Maebh seems relatively unaffected, still and silent in the shadow of a house and shrouded in dark furs.
A guardsman bearing a torch and covered in so many furs that he approaches at a waddle more than a walk comes down from the north gate.
"Lass, what are you- It's not safe out here! You'll catch your death of cold!" - Guardsman, concerned.
"Not at all. Just taking the night air for a short while." - Kel'Serrar, who gives an unconscious shiver.
"But is freezing out here! I must insist you go in. I don't mean to scare you, but besides the cold, the Landing isn't safe for women after dark." - Guardsman, still concerned.
"I will go in shortly, I can look after myself." - Kel'Serrar, dismissing him.
The guardsman keeps walking down to the docks, looking back over his shoulder at the ranger/damsel and muttering under his breath. Naturally he now believes that Kel'Serrar is both the killer and some ancient monster incapable of feeling the depths of winter's chill. Well he would, if the person he had dealings with looked anything like Kel'Serrar, but they didn't. So, in fact, his suspicions are actually directed at Dhara handily enough.
Kel'Serrar decides that if there is no more action in the next two hours, he is going to make his way into the Irontusk Inn and find a room there where the rest of the party cannot follow. That'll teach them to make him disguise himself as a woman and then freeze to death in the main street.
Naturally, Kel'Serrar is nowhere near as heavily protected from the cold as he should be. After all, the bait has to look appetizing, and no ball of fur has ever exactly looked stylish and attractive.
This of course, only fuels Kel'Serrar's contempt.
* * *
An hour passes and the guard returns on his route. He nods at the ranger/damsel, makes a sign to ward against evil an hurries away. The cat does not return, much to Breanna's disappointment.
The second hour passes and the guard does not return.
It is very cold and very dark, and the companions who have been lying in wait are starting to get impatient. Unable to take the waiting much longer, Tremor stands and heads down to the wharf, where the guard was last seen walking towards. The Dwergar, despite his keen eyesight in the dark can see no trace of the guardsman. In fact, there does not seem to be any trace of guards anywhere around the town, nor any signs of struggle.
Kel'Serrar follows Tremor down to the wharf and just as he steps onto the wooden pier, there is a flash of cold blue light on the ground beneath his feet.
Willpower Check to resist the spell's effects. It is failed. In response, Sins asks if he can cast a single spell with instantaneous casting time in the split second before the spell takes effect. I put it down to an Initiative Check, which is passed, thanks to the re-roll garnered from doing the homework I set everyone. See guys? Advantages aplenty!The sky begins to glow overhead, revealing much of what had been hidden just moments before. The shadows most of the companions are using for concealment, suddenly offer nothing in the silvery glow. Even Breanna's Shadowskin fails her, rippling across her flesh in the light before she dispels it with a sigh.
The collective gaze of the companions is drawn to where Kel'Serrar stands on the pier, rooted to the spot. Faint tendrils of ice-blue magic are entwined around his/her legs, preventing the ranger/damsel from moving. Maebh and Breanna hurry over to their trapped companion and start to study the spell holding him/her.
Breanna immediately smells the acrid tang of daemonic energy, a large amount of which was used to power this spell. It bears the same hallmarks as the power used to fuel the preservation spells woven into the corpses too, although the daemon bound by the caster was a different individual.
Maebh on the other hand, is able to determine more. First, that this was a trap, and one of many set up around the town, a snare for the hunter to return to at its leisure. Secondly, that the one who cast this spell was a master. A mere journeyman would have been unable to prevent the spell from loosening a crack when it was triggered, a sharp noise which would draw attention. The fact that this caster was able to fold the spell in on itself the way they did suggests that the caster is a very powerful and learned individual. In fact, the flash of light which they had all noticed was only caused by a reaction with Kel'Serrar's active glamer, the field of energy suffusing the disguised Danann's flesh clashing with the paralysing ward he stepped upon. Even now, paralysed on the pier, his disguise starts to fail, the glamer retreating up his legs slowly.
"Are you kidding me? Helpless again?" - Sins.
We broke here for lunch.
"So, the plan guys?"
"The plan has gone horribly!" - Dev.
"As to be expected!" - Sins.
They perform Search Checks and Wings rolls a 1.
"There are no individuals hiding in the area."
"What? With a 1, how could I not find them?" - Wings.
"Well it is hard to find people if there is no one there, no matter how hard you look..."
The conversation then turns to the trap, which has claimed one of the companions...
"So, this thing is a trap which has been set to allow the person who set it to come back and retrieve the body when no one's around?" - Ladyhawk.
"Aye, that makes sense."
"So why don't these people just yell for help?" - Ladyhawk.
"Sins, do you want to try to yell for help?"
"I'm completely paralysed. That's going to stop vocalisation, right?" - Sins.
"That's right I'm afraid."
"Oh right." - Ladyhawk.
"So, you know, I'd really appreciate it if you could get me out before I suffocate guys..." - Sins.
"Oh, no injuries! They suffocated to death?" - Ladyhawk.
I give a raised eyebrow, but do not confirm.
"Well... I guess we can test it..." - Dev, laughing.
"You leave me to die in this trap and I will haunt your ass for the rest of your existence. And I'll do it in the shape of Chirya, just to piss you off." - Sins.Concentrating on the task at hand, Maebh reaches out and grasps Kel'Serrar's shoulder. It takes a bit of mental straining, but eventually the strangling touch of the dark magic dissipates and Kel'Serrar is freed.
"Okay, that's enough for me. I shall see you all in the morning." - Kel'Serrar, brushing himself off before heading across to the Irontusk Inn.
The ranger knocks upon the door to the inn and eventually an old man in his bedclothes opens the door, a candle burning fitfully in his hand.
"What? Do you know-? It's late and- What do you want?" - Old man, having been awoken from his sleep, is not impressed with his newest customer.
"I wish for shelter this night. I can pay." - Kel'Serrar, still disguised as Dhara.
He is admitted in, the old man figuring that it is better to take the money and let the poor girl in than leave her out in the cold. Kel'Serrar is required to print his name in the ledger on the front bar and uses Dhara's name, intending to screw her over on the off chance she visits Urik's Landing in the future.
"Well, we've failed, **** it. Let's go inside." - Harold.
He leaves for the Blackmane Inn while Tremor, Maebh and Breanna have one last look around before going in. The others are largely unsuccessful, but examining the ground near to where Kel'Serrar was trapped, Tremor feels his vision go strange again.
"Oh, well in that case I'll make a Perception Check too then to look around." - Dev, rolling.
"But you're already inside!" - LD, laughing.
"You realise that what you'll turn up is something like, 'My God, the man in that painting over there has a foot' right?" - Ladyhawk.
"Stuff it, I'm still rolling." - Harold.
He discovers that the common room of the Blackmane Inn has been cleaned very recently.
"Has the floor been bleached? Cause if so, bang! There's been a murder!" - LD.
"Bleach? Here in Skyrim? I don't think so." - Ladyhawk.
"I need some bleach, some hydrogen peroxide and a ****load of lime."
[/color]
The Dwergar stares at the ground beneath his feet and to his magically altered sight, the snow starts to melt away, revealing a fleshless skull, grinning up at him. His vision returns to normal and the skull is gone, replaced by the ever-present northern snow.
On his hands and knees, Tremor starts to shovel the snow away with his hands, and there, sitting on the ground before him, is the same grinning skull. It looks like it has been sitting there for several months now, and he realises that it isn't entirely fleshless, little scraps of blackened skin clinging to the blood-slicked bone.
"What have you found?" - Maebh, standing over Tremor's shoulder.
"A skull." - Tremor, gruff.
Tremor takes the skull in his hand and withdraws it, feeling slight resistance. He figures that in pulling it free, he has detached it from the rest of the corpse. The Dwergar opens the drawstring to his head-pouch, in which the severed head of Wilmund Brewer rests, and deposits the skull inside.
"Can you send the ranger a message?" - Tremor, standing and addressing Maebh.
"Yes, what do you need?" - Maebh, starting to shiver in the cold.
In his room, Kel'Serrar is warming himself by a fire and trying to get over the fear he felt while paralysed by the trap when he hears Maebh's voice on a light breeze which blows through underneath his door.
"Come back out, Tremor needs to speak with you." - Maebh whispering wind.
Kel'Serrar has no inclination to do so, but no means of responding.
"I'll deal with it in the morning." - Kel'Serrar, who settles down to sleep.
"He's not coming." - Breanna, after waiting for almost twenty minutes.
"I've got this." - Maebh, who calls up a significant amount of power. This time, she casts the same spell, but overloads it.
Kel'Serrar is awoken by a screaming wind blowing through under his door.
"I said come back out, Tremor needs to speak with you!" - Maebh, in what Ladyhawk described as a 'shouty voice.'
They wait for the ranger to emerge, but have no luck. He's not coming back out again tonight. Together, Breanna and Tremor talk Maebh down and they others traipse back to the Blackmane Inn after an unsuccessful night. All the companions avail themselves of a hot bath before bed though, the better to regain some of their lost body heat.
Back soon...We're back! :smallbiggrin:The companions awaken in the early morning. It is overcast and miserable, but not unbearable. Kel'Serrar has changed his appearance again, no longer Dhara but now some random he glimpsed in Summer Hill.
"Not sure what exactly our leads are..." - Ladyhawk.
"We do have two main suspects at this point." - Sins.
"Yes, the apprentice doktor, Welyn, who has been quite helpful-"
"Nice guy." - Sins, interrupting.
"Let's kill him." - LD, rubbing her hands together.
"Yes, that would be entirely within our M.O." - Dev, to laughter.
"You also have evidence which suggests that the perpetrator is magically powerful and well-educated. And there is at least one man, to your knowledge, who fits that bill."
"Hmm, the court wizard. Well, that's it. I'm going after him." - Ladyhawk.Harold sits alone out on the porch of the Blackmane Inn, seeing to the maintenance of his armoury of weapons. He has awoken before most of the town and is enjoying the peace and quiet. Bach sits beside him, feasting on a side of mutton. It has been a few days since the marcwolves have been out, and surprisingly both Bach and Wolfgang have enjoyed their time in the snow. The most amazing thing however is just how fast the cub-pups have grown. Both are by now, around the size of a common woodwolf.
While sitting there, the Invarrian is a approached by a small man in drab grey homespun clothing.
"My lord, Book-keeper Harris has completed your request and is awaiting your presence up at Lordshall." - Servant, bowing.
"Thank you. Please inform him I will be along shortly." - Harold, standing up before leading Bach back to the stables.
So much for enjoying a rest...
Sitting at a table in the Blackmane Inn, the companions discuss their next moves. They decide to split up at this stage. Harold is to go to the theyne's archives to find out what he can about Odon. Tremor, armed with his newly-discovered skull, heads off to the doktor once more, accompanied by Kel'Serrar. Maebh meanwhile heads on up to Lordshall to confront Heimdar Iceblood, who she has decided ought to be investigated a little more closely. Breanna goes with her.
Harold:Having already eaten breakfast, Harold leaves the Blackmane Inn before the rest of his companions and arrives up at Lordshall eager to find out what he can about the mighty Odon the Black.
Upon entering the archive, he discovers that Odon the Black was an absolute nutcase of the highest order. Harris has written down every reference to Odon he could find in print for Harold and the duellist spends a fair bit of time reading what he can and then being completely astounded.
According to the book, Odon was born over two hundred years ago. There were a few incidents in his youth, but none quite so disturbing as what he did to a poor lad named Oric, who had the misfortune of making an enemy of the black-furred Invarrian. One night, Odon crept into the house of Oric's family and killed his cat, a creature the whole family treasured. While horrible, this was hardly the end of the carnage that night, as Odon magically bound Oric's family, raised the cat and had it kill the boy in front of them. This was at seven years of age.
"Mother of God..." - Dev.
"Holy hell..." - Ladyhawk.
"This guy was really ****ing nuts guys." - Can't say I didn't warn them.Tremor and Kel'Serrar:The two companions walk to the doktor's for what seems like the hundredth time over the last few days. The door is opened, as always by Endric, Jurdric's son.
"Ah yes, master dwarf. And... I do not recognise your friend. Anyway, what is the matter today?" - Endric, reasonably friendly and not recognising Kel'Serrar. At this point even I have forgotten what he looks like today.
"Nothing the matter, I'd just like to speak to apprentice Welyn please." - Tremor, reasonably friendly himself.
It's still early after all."Ah yes, he's down the hall and to the left, seeing to the stores." - Endric, showing the two companions through.
"Ah Tremor! And... I don't know you... Anyway, what can I do for you?" - Welyn, looking up from arranging herbs for later use.
"I was wondering, were there any missing people reported before you arrived?" - Tremor.
"I have no idea. I haven't heard anything about it, no." - Welyn.
"Right. And were there any others who arrived with you when you came here?" - Tremor.
"Well no, only myself and Berrilyn made that trip and actually stayed here in town. Everyone else went south by sea or on to the capital." - Welyn.
"Hmm, well, do you know who this is?" - Tremor, pulling the head from his bag.
"By the gods, what is that?" - Welyn, horrified.
"It's a skull... Oh bugger, sorry. Wrong head. Can't believe we didn't end up being paid for this..." - Tremor, who had accidentally pulled out Wilmund Brewer's head.
You know, the BBEG from Arc 2 who was decapitated by Tremor at the end of that arc?"Sorry, do you know who THIS is?" - Tremor, pulling out the recently discovered skull.
"You carry severed heads around!? Are you-? Never mind, let me look at it then." - Welyn, still horrified.
The apprentice takes the skull gingerly from Tremor and inspects it.
"What can you tell us?" - Kel'Serrar.
"Well , this here is a male, approximately fifty years old. Probably died around two and a half months ago, maybe longer. Reasonably well preserved. I assume you found it in a snowdrift?" - Welyn, who had begun to lose some of his professional detachment after the shock of Tremor pulling severed head out of his bag.
Tremor nods by way of response.
"Interesting." - Welyn, who has started to look at the head more like a puzzle and less like a mouldering skull.
Maebh and Breanna:"Now Breanna, I'd prefer if this didn't turn into an all-out brawl with fire and death flying everywhere." - Maebh, quietly as they walk down the street towards Lordshall.
"So we're talking to him first then?" - Breanna, fingers tapping the hilts of her knives.
"Yes, but we'll take no chances." - Maebh.
They approach the doorward, who does not appear to be too happy to see them.
"So, what is your business here today? Are you still looking for the wizard?" - Doorward, who makes the mistake of meeting Maebh's gaze.
"These are not the droids you are looking for..." - Ladyhawk as she rolls her Hypnosis Check.The guard's eyes lose just a little brightness and he stops his fidgeting and Maebh knows that he is hers.
"Brilliant. You are doing an excellent job at your normal duties. You will forget we were here... Back in a minute." - Maebh, beckoning a stunned Breanna to follow her into the hall.
"Whoa, that was awesome." - Breanna, under her breath and grinning at the mage.
The mess hall stretches before them, a massive oaken dining table taking pride of place right down the centre of the room. On either side of the table are rows of chairs and at either end, fire pits. Beyond the table are three stone steps leading to a slightly raised platform, upon which a large throne sits upon many animal pelts. On the wall above the throne, a huge bear's head is mounted, the head longer than Breanna is tall.
On the throne sits an absolutely massive blond-haired man, clad in rune-encrusted steel armour. At his side, resting against the arm of the throne is the largest battleaxe either Breanna or Maebh have ever seen and it glows with fell power.
"What are you doing here?" - Theyne Embermald, not unkindly.
"Hi... Do you have a moment to discuss our lord and saviour?" - LD, laughing."We are here to talk with your court wizard." - Maebh, taking charge.
"And my doorward just let you in?" - Embermald, troubled.
"Yes, he didn't have any problems with it at all." - Maebh, gritting her teeth.
"Well, if you have an appointment, he's through there and good luck to you." - Embermald, shrugging his massive shoulders and pointing to a doorway to his left.
"So we have your permission to go see him?" - Maebh.
"If you have an appointment, you don't need my permission. My permission would hardly make him talk to you if he doesn't want to anyway." - Embermald, growing impatient.
"So you're giving us permission?" - Maebh.
"Don't do this Ladyhawk, just go through and see the wizard if you have to." - Dev, getting worried."Just ****ing go in there already!" - Embermald, ticked off.
"Taking that as a yes. Let's go Bree." - Maebh, heading through the doorway to Iceblood's personal quarters.
The two girls open the carefully engraved wooden door, and take in the room. Heimdar is sitting at his desk, which is a horribly cluttered affair, marking down notes from a familiar looking book onto a fresh scroll.
Upon walking into the room, Maebh's eyes are drawn immediately to the mirror on the far wall, or more specifically, the runes adorning the frame. She instinctively knows that the runes are activated by a combination of an incantation and a blood tithe. She stores that knowledge away from Tremor.
"The hell are you doing in here?" - Heimdar, furious at being interrupted.
"I have the theyne's permission to come and see you." - Maebh, smug.
"Damn it all, I told him I don't want visitors. Can we make this quick?" - Heimdar, off-hand.
"Okay, what do you know about the murders in this town?" - Maebh, cutting to the chase.
"I know nothing about the murders in this town." - Heimdar, way too fast.
"Hmm, fine. Aren't you supposed to be translating the scrolls before the slates though?" - Maebh, playing her trump card. Turns out Tremor told her about that before they used Kel'Serrar as bait.
The wizard stops and deliberately closes the slates over, very carefully. He looks straight into the mage's eyes, and his glare softens.
"Perfect..." - Heimdar, almost imperceptibly.
Then his gaze hardens once more.
"I can promise you this, and you can tell your hairy friend this too! I shall not continue translating one more damned thing until I get his word of honour that his spies and snoops will leave me well enough alone!" - Heimdar, angrily.
"Well, we are not his spies, and so I don't really care if you uphold your bargain with him or not. What I do care about is searching your room, so you go back to work while I look through your belongings, okay?" - Maebh, arrogant.
Wordlessly, the wizard opens the slates once more and gets back to work while Maebh and Breanna start to riffle through his stuff. They determine swiftly that, although they cannot determine the purpose of much of the equipment, it must be used in his magical research. Judging by all the notes lying around, Heimdar must be an avid and dedicated, if not renowned, scholar of the magical arts.
Maebh purposely pushes a steel instrument off the edge of the desk and lets it clatter to the floor. The wizard looks up at her angrily, and Maebh pounces, holding his gaze. There is a prolonged battle of wills as the two mages mentally war against each other before Maebh can feel him slip, just slightly, under her power. She knows, however, that her hold on him is tenuous and she cannot push too hard or he will snap out of it.
"Tell me, how much do you know about the murders around the town?" - Maebh, again cutting straight to the point.
"I know nothing." - Heimdar, straining under the pressure.
"He knows everything." - Breanna, to Maebh.
"I know nothing. I do my work in here, I spend as little time amongst the peasants out there as possible and then I come back in here to continue my work and further my studies." - Heimdar, straining.
"Do you own any coins from the Brilliant Towers?" - Maebh, probing further.
"Of course I do, I was trained there." - Heimdar.
"Would anyone else in this town have coins from the Towers?" - Maebh.
"How the ruddy hell would I know? I don't go looking in other peoples' purses!" - Heimdar, angrily.
Maebh can feel her control slipping. She doesn't have him for long.
"Would anyone other than yourself have access to your quarters?" - Maebh.
"Not without my permission!" - Heimdar, roaring angrily.
He storms to his feet.
"You come into my living quarters uninvited and unannounced! I have answered your questions, though you have shown me nothing but rudeness and hurled accusations! Leave now!" - Heimdar, furious.
"I have my suspicions. I want to find out who's killing these poor girls and at the moment, you're the prime suspect!" - Maebh, refusing to back down.
She and Breanna are both taken by surprise therefore when strands of cold, ice-blue magic erupt from Heimdar's hands and wrap around the two of them. Both Breanna and Maebh strain against the magic and are able to break free, but it costs them valuable time.
Unfortunately, Heimdar is now between both of them and the door to get out.
"Between you and the possum you wish to throw at him?" - Sins, a callback.Trapped by the wizard and with no time to consider and fancy combat manoeuvres or casting, the girls respond to the magical assault in the only way they really can.
Breanna goes for the knees and Maebh the head as they tackle the stooped old man to the ground, slamming him painfully into the stone flags on the floor.
He is badly hurt, but not so much that he isn't able to take his own vengeance. There is a deafening burst of magic as Breanna and Maebh are essentially thrown off him with enough force to send them flying into the ceiling. Both of them come back down onto the stone floor hard, badly bruised. Their flesh where they made contact with wizard is badly burnt, blackened as if by ice and Breanna is bleeding from a cut to the back of her head where she cracked it against the wooden ceiling. Maebh on the other hand can feel a sharp pain in her back and has a cracked rib.
Painfully, Heimdar picks himself up off the floor as Breanna and Maebh struggle to breath. The wizard ignores them both and walks to his mirror where he mutters some incomprehensible words and then cuts his hand on the edge of the frame, smearing his blood on the runes. He disappears.
"You guys all hear the explosion when Heimdar blows them into the ceiling. What are you going to do?"
"It's an obvious distraction. Obviously, we need to head towards the obvious distraction." - Sins.
"Yeah run towards it." - Dev.It isn't long before Harold arrives at the door and helps the injured girls to their feet.
"What the hell happened?" - Harold.
"Tackled... Explosive..." - Breanna, straining. Maebh's still not in much shape to talk.
"Right... Where's the explosive?" - Harold, looking around frantically.
"In... Mirror..." - Breanna, heaving in air.
Harold stalks over to the mirror. He can see the smear of blood on the runes and smell the brimstone in the air.
"This is going to hurt like buggery isn't it?" - Harold, to himself before slashing his hand on the mirror's frame and smearing the runes.
There was a collective intake of breath before:
"We can't let him do this alone. I'm going in too." - Ladyhawk.Kel'Serrar and Tremor:Hearing the explosion, the two companions hurtle out of the doktor's with no explanation. Intrigued, Welyn tags along too, but is outstripped by even Tremor, who can actually maintain a fair pace if he tries.
They pass the doorward on their way in to hall, who half-heartedly attempts to stop them, but they have already stormed into the messhall before he finishes his challenge. The theyne simply looks up from the scroll he is reading and points towards the court wizard's quarters.
"That way." - Embermald, pointing.
"I love this guy! That's how you run a town! When crazed citizens rush in and interrupt your reading, just direct them to the nearest explosion and set them loose. This guy is brilliant!" - Sins, who summed up the party's impression of the theyne pretty well.The engineer and the ranger arrive just in time to see Maebh walk up to the mirror and smear a bloodied hand on the runes. Kel'Serrar and Breanna grimly nod and follow.
Tremor on the other hand starts to gather up his scrolls and the slates. After all, looks like Heimdar won't be doing those translations for him, might as well keep them safe.
* * *
On the other side of the mirror, the sight that greets the companions is seriously nightmarish.
Dark purple and grey clouds drift across a bruised dark red sky. The companions are standing on a floating chunk of rock which appears to have been hewn out of the earth and propelled into the air. Before them on the rock is a wondrously crafted table, glowing with magic and beautifully carved from some unknown material. It is so beautiful that the very thought of harming it is anathema to them.
"I love the fact that you actually prepared for us to go through the mirror." - Ladyhawk, laughing.
"We actually did something we were supposed to!" - Dev.
Cheers all round. Upon the table lies a woman, or rather the remains of several women which have been patched together to form a work of art, albeit macabre. She is complete, save for her empty eye-sockets.
Behind the companions, the mirror floats, offering them a glimpse back to the material world, where Tremor is busy sorting through what he can keep of Heimdar's belongings.
"Stuff that, I'm not going in there. What can I loot?" - Wings, when confronted with being a hero or a murder-hobo.Surrounding the floating chunk of rock is a blazing golden net, flaming with magical energy and anchored to the rock by fist-sized golden gems embedded in the stone floor. The net protects those on the floating rock from the spirit predators which are everywhere, writhing on the 'ground' below and soaring sightlessly through the 'skies.' Down below resembles almost a pit of slimy, black snakes, constantly devouring each other. Above, massive floating eel things, again, eat everything they can see.
"Were you high when you wrote this?" - LD.
"See, this is what happens when we follow the plot, we make our way to hell." - Sins.
They made Willpower Checks here to try and avoid being driven insane by seeing stuff that mortal beings should really never see. I won't tell you who passed and who failed.At the table, stooped over it and looking proudly at his disturbing creation, is Heimdar Iceblood.
"She's almost finished. She just needs your eyes." - Heimdar, looking up to Maebh.
"My eyes? Good luck." - Maebh, calling up her magic.
This is the point I asked for initiative. Not wanting Wings to feel left out, I organised a surprise for him while sifting through Heimdar's drawers.
"You roll too Wings. Tremor is attacked by a vicious turnip."Tremor opens a drawer to continue searching for things to steal and out jumps a turnip with little arms and legs which has been animated and powered by dark magic.
The turnip got a surprise round, jumping up into Tremor's face.Back to the real fight at hand and Maebh realises that her power feels different here and immediately decides not to risk corrupting her spirit with the foul energies in the 'air.' She takes her spear, which is not the physical object but more a manifestation of her will to cause destruction, and hurls it at the wizard. As it leaves her hand, it morphs into a bolt of golden light and is absorbed into his essence. Heimdar clutches his chest where the light struck him and staggers. He appears somewhat diminished by the strike, but he is cornered and so close to his goal. He will not give up now.
Screaming maniacally, streams of ice-blue chain lightning surge from his hands, streaking towards Maebh but just as they get close to her, they deviate and crash into the golden net. Immediately, spirits burst through and start to overrun the rock. One makes a beeline directly for the corpse lying on the table. It forces its way down her throat and the corpse shudders with life and sits. She looks around, staring with sightless eyes.
"No! She's not ready yet!" - Heimdar, hands crackling with magic.
The corpse starts to laugh wildly, a strange sound which sounds like it comes from several throats at once and then launches herself off the table and onto the wizard.
"Oh..."
"Oh, that's two 0's..." - Ladyhawk.
"And an 8..."
"Wow, so he's..." - Dev.
"Yep, he got seriously ****ed over." He gives a single scream before the possessed corpse tears his spirit apart and devours him, all the while cackling daemonically.
Now the party are in a seriously bad situation because the aethyric leviathans, the massive eel-like creatures floating through the skies, are big enough that they could potentially take the whole rock in one go. And the party really does not want to be devoured by leviathans at all, let alone in the spirit world.
"Run!" - Harold, drawing a blazing sword and starting to hack at the daemons that are already between the party and the mirror.
But the real combat, the one everyone wants to read about is Tremor versus the Vicious Turnip. It starts out pluckily, landing two solid hits on the Dwergar before he has time to react. It doesn't take Tremor long however to retaliate, and he does so in brutal fashion, taking the marauding vegetable and snapping it in half. As he does so, reddish-green vapours are released and the turnip falls limp and inanimate. Tremor throws the two halves back in the drawer with disgust, and not a small amount of confusion.
A moment after the turnip was vanquished , the four other companions come streaming out of the mirror, looking haggard and worn. Just as Kel'Serrar staggers out, a pale, bloodied hand reaches through and grabs him by the shoulder. Seeing his friend in danger, Harold turns immediately and slashes the arm at the elbow, severing it at the joint and leaving the appendage twitching on the floor. Sickened, Kel'Serrar draws his sword and smashes the mirror, shattering it completely and trapping the spirits in their own world.
And the murder mysteries were solved. Level ups all round!
"I can't believe it... We finished a quest." - Wings, amazed.
"We finished a quest with minimal casualties..." - LD, awestruck.
"Hang on a minute, we finished a quest without killing the bad guy!" - Ladyhawk.
"Wait, we didn't kill anyone!" - Dev, disappointed.
"We need to fix this." - Sins, quietly.
"You did kill a ghul-ish turnip."
The most important thing that happened here is that Tremor's most recent arc finally came to fruition. He is now an Engineer 7 / Necromancer 1. This ought to be interesting.
I tell everyone that they now have approximately an hour real-time to finish the monster hunt.
"Let's do this." - Dev.The companions take a moment to revel in just being alive and actually in their own flesh before heading out, taking a moment to laugh at Tremor's turnip nemesis.
Out in the messhall, a small crowd, which had gathered and were waiting patiently for an audience with the theyne is now standing ready to intercept the companions. A few have weapons drawn. The theyne himself however waves them down.
"You killed him then?" - Embermald, still sitting in his throne.
"We didn't actually." - Harold, surprised at himself.
"Not through lack of trying." - Breanna, under her breath. She's still not quite over cracking her head on the ceiling and is feeling kind of faint.
"Your wizard was compiling a collection of body parts from all those dead girls to create some kind of creature. He was doing all this in the Otherworld, which he accessed through an inscribed mirror. We smashed it after his creature killed him." - Maebh, summarising the horrifying experience.
The theyne nods.
"I have no idea if you are telling the truth, but I don't know what kind of person it would take to make something like that up." - Embermald, frowning.
Awakward silence and pointed looks at me after this line."But, the fact is, I didn't like the bastard anyway, and you've gotten rid of him for me. So... Take this heirloom. I believe it will help you. " - Embermald, pulling a short bronze chain out of a recess in his leather vambrace and offering it to Maebh.
The Danann receives it reverently, noticing the ancient marking carved into the metal. She can tell immediately that the magic suffusing it has made the bronze harder than steel, but it harbours more powers than merely that.
The reward for Ladyhawk completing her homework first, a reasonably minor magical item. The chain allows the wearer to ignore the first Miscast they suffer each session. The spell is considered to have failed, but no Miscast effects are applied.
As an aside, Ladyhawk asked how her mantikor egg was going.
"You're not entirely sure, but it has certainly taken a beating, what with being on your back when you were flung into the ceiling and then with you on your little reality-hopping expedition."
"Will it be a stunted, yet radioactive mantikor when it hatches?" - LD.
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* * *
So now they focus on the beast terrorising the hamlets. Farmers from the surrounding countryside have been coming to Lordshall for several months now, bearing tales of a creature in the marshes which has been preying upon their livestock. No one has ever seen the creature and been able to tell the tale, despite patrols of guards being sent out to hunt it down.
A few nights ago, a girl was taken by the creature and her father mauled. The man was left in a very poor condition and has not moved since the attack. His heart beats and takes the very lightest of breaths, but other than that he may as well be dead. If he does awaken however, he may be able to illuminate the companions on the beast.
And so the party venture out the northgate, taking Bach and Wolfgang with them, but leaving the horses behind.
The road winds its way north, picking a safe, if circuitous route through the swamp. Signposts every half-mile give directions to the few outlying farms and hamlets, and the companions do find themselves at the Bales hamlet.
Trying to eke out a living in the marshes is not easy, and raging death-monsters make thing infinitely harder. The wife of the man who was attacked follows behind a broad-shouldered horse, which Breanna eyes warily as it pulls a rusted iron plough through the icy field. The woman looks up fearfully at the approaching companions, but Harold quickly assuages her fears and asks to see her husband, promising to do their best to help him. Wordlessly, she leads them inside the meagre home and they see a well-built man lying on his back, still as a rock on the hard bed. A thick woollen blanket is wrapped around to keep him warm, and it appears to be doing its job as he is quite warm to the touch, however his breathing and heartbeat are almost imperceptible.
To Kel'Serrar's keen eyes, it is apparent that the man has been badly mauled by a very large predator, but he has been seen to very well, presumably by one of the doktors in town.
"He's definitely getting weaker the longer he stays like this. Can you see any signs of Black Magic?" - Kel'Serrar, quietly to Breanna.
Despite her keenest observation, Breanna sees no evidence of any Black Magic around the man, which confuses her.
"No, nothing." - Breanna, responding in kind.
They stand around the poor man, debating what they can do under their breath, all the while his wife stares at them wide-eyed, internally screaming at their incompetence.
"Ah, stuff this." - Kel'Serrar, taking his satchel of healing herbs and getting to work.
It takes him almost an hour to re-clean and re-bandage the wounds, but Kel'Serrar does all he can to improve the state of the injuries. Something about the man's state however gives him a clue that this is not just the result of a simple crack on the head, or even shock. There is something else at play here.
He is reminded of a spider, native to the coldest and most northern climes of Unterguardt, the Undmoric spider, a small predator with venom capable of paralysing it's prey. The spider itself is not big enough to cause the effect on anything bigger than a rat, but the effect is somewhat similar to what has happened here.
"Is Unterguardt basically Australia?" - LD.
"It's kind of Russia with Australia's deadly animals." - Dev.One thing is certain though. The mauling this man has suffered was not inflicted by a spider. The lacerations would be fitting with the bite of a large, mammalian carnivore. One larger than a marcwolf.
"Tell me what you know of this creature." - Maebh, turning to the man's wife.
"I've not seen it. I don't think anyone has actually seen it. Some men from the neighbouring farms brought him in. We heard noises from the cattle and he went to have a look and scare off whatever was out there scaring them. When we heard his scream, I couldn't stop our daughter from going out there to help him." - The distraught wife, who then bursts into tears, unable to continue speaking.
"Can you show us these cattle?" - Harold.
"None left. I can show you out to where we used to keep them." - Farmer's wife, shrugging disconsolately.
She shows them to a small paddock, now slightly overgrown. The paddock is surrounded by a low, basic wooden fence, one section of it completely busted apart by a large animal forcing its way in, a creature roughly the size of a large bear.
The cold ground is all torn up by the panicked cattle and pools of frozen blood are scattered across the grass. The woman tells them that some of the cattle escaped, but many were killed or left too badly injured to continue living. The dead were burned as the wounds smelled foul. Of the daughter, no trace was found.
Breanna and Harold give the woman some money to purchase more cattle, or perhaps find a new home in the Landing which might provide an easier life. She offers her heartfelt thanks to the companions, and returns to her house, leaving the party out in the cold paddock to search for clues.
As far as traces go, there are piles of leavings all around the paddock, but as far as the party can tell, it's all from the cattle. On the other hand, large clawed tracks lead to the north, and they decide to follow them.
"The game is on!" - LD.While following the tracks, there is a lengthy discussion about how to approach this beast. All of the accounts they have heard have painted the creature as a nocturnal predator, and as it is already late in the afternoon, it won't be long until it comes back out to play. After reassuring themselves that the tracks led deep into the swamp, they doubled back to find the nearest hamlet with surviving livestock.
The hamlet they find appears deserted, save for the small flock of twelve
Unterguardt caorigh in a pen, happily grazing. The gate is open, and so a few have wandered free of their confines, but all are reasonably close together. Safety in numbers, after all. They look up at the approaching companions, and a few bleat in greeting before getting back to their grazing.
Not far from the pen sits a small abandoned house, very similar to the hamlet of the Bales family. Beside it is an outcrop of dark rock, which juts into the sky. The companions approach the dwelling, thinking to commandeer it for the night to watch over the flock of caorigh in order to surprise the beast when it arrives, but as Kel'Serrar opens the door a group of five men come out from behind the rocky outcrop.
"What are you doing there?" - Leader of the band, a young and tall Northmann with long dark hair and clad in brown leather.
"We were going to wait until the beast comes out." - Harold.
"And then kill it." - Tremor.
"Well then friends, feel free to join us. We have much the same plan." - Leader of the band, who goes around to the companions and introduces himself as Eyric.
The band of hunters are five strong and hardy men, clad in much the same manner as Eyric and armed with a mix of bows and spears. They're just young men trying to do right by their families and gain just a little measure of vengeance for what happened to the Bales'. They're brave, and have more balls than sense really, but they are at least willing to stand against the beast in the darkness.
The party get to know the hunters a little bit, but as night falls both groups become a little more apprehensive. Breanna and Kel'Serrar clamber up to the roof of the hamlet, Kel'Serrar with his bow and Breanna with her trusty crossbow. Beside them stand two of the hunters, armed with their own selfbows. They really aren't powerful enough to take down anything larger than a caorigh, but it's still something.
The rest of the group huddle around the rocky outcrop or lie in wait inside the hamlet itself, watching out cautiously over the flock. And then, on the cold wind from the north, a horrific stench of rotten flesh. This thing smells like it is sick. Like a creature that should not exist, so that the very air around it rebels against its nature.
"Ready yourselves. It's here." - Harold, to those around him in the hamlet.
As it draws closer, lured in by the caorigh, the odour becomes almost unbearable, especially to the exceptionally keen senses of Harold and the Danann.
"We have dealt with corpsewalkers which smelt better than this." - Harold, under his breath while simultaneously trying to hold it.
The caorish in the pen have ceased grazing and are now huddled together in the southern-most corner of the pen. They are completely silent, and even in the poor twilight visibility, they are obviously shaking with terror.
A faint distortion ripples through the air, noticed only by Kel'Serrar and Breanna from their high vantage point, before there is a sharp bleat and one of the caorigh is bodily hurled through the air.
"Shoot there!" - Harold, pointing at where the caorigh was just a split second before.
A volley of two arrows and one bolt flash down into the paddock and there is a deep-throated yelp of pain. Kel'Serrar did not shoot however, instead concentrating on conjuring up some kind of magical light to provide some illumination to shoot by. A soft grey light suffuses the area, but it doesn't reveal the creature.
Maebh, looking out the window of the hamlet, spear in hand, calls up the power to see through magical illusions, but even her magically aided sight does not reveal the creature, revealing the effect is not magical in nature.
After the yelp, there is the sound of a large creature moving very swiftly away from the sight of the ambush.
"We've never even hit the thing before, let alone driven it off! Let's get it lads!" - Eyric, taking up his spear and leaping out into the night.
As one, the hunters follow, leaving the companions behind.
"Ah ****, we can't let them go off on their own. Come." - Harold, drawing his masterwork blade.
The companions head off too.
"Don't become separated! Stay together!" - Harold, calling out to the hunters.
They follow the Invarrian's command and the five hunters come together on a patch of dry ground.
"I can't see the trail..." - One of the hunters, knelt on the ground looking for signs of passage.
Only a few paces ahead, it is thanks to Kel'Serrar's starlight casting that the companions see that same curious distortion ripple through the air and careen straight through the party of hunters ahead.
Men are thrown bodily into the air. One is snapped practically in half by the massive jaws, the upper piece taken by the beast as it disappears with a splash into the marsh.
Of the five, only two are still living. One casualty has a heavy laceration to the right leg and what appears to be a broken neck. The last has a severely broken back, practically bent back on himself. Of the two survivors, neither are in a good way, but one of them is worse than the other, with bone jutting from his broken shin.
Harold takes a sniff, but as far as he can tell, the creature is not in the immediate area and so the companions do their best to help the two injured men. Eyric is the man with a broken leg, and he is swiftly going into shock. Harold and the other surviving hunter help each other to support Eyric back to the hamlet.
The others get ready to follow the tracks further, hoping to find the lair.
Meanwhile, back at the hamlet, Harold sets the injured Eyric down. The duellist takes the more or less uninjured one aside.
"Your name lad?" - Harold.
"Edvind. Did you see that thing?" - Edvind, terrified. He was the youngest of the hunters, and is only around fourteen. It wasn't noticeable earlier because, as a Northmann, he was over 6' tall.
"No I didn't, but I saw what it did. We need you to be strong Edvind. Eyric here is..." - Harold, not sure how to put it tactfully.
"Can you watch over him Edvind? Can you do that?" - Harold, imparting some responsibility on the lad.
"Yes, I will." - Edvind, swallowing hard.
"Good lad." - Harold, who turns and leaves without another word.
"He left us..." - Edvind, losing all hope.
Ignoring the carnage around him, Kel'Serrar slips into a trance and lets his senses wander, the better to see just what is in the immediate vicinity.
Another usage of Woodland Senses from Kel'Serrar here. To his heightened senses, the life in the area at first glance is quite scarce. At first, he recognises the flock of caorigh behind him, still huddled, terrified, in the pen. And then, his companions and what is left of the rapidly freezing corpses of the erstwhile hunters. One of them, the one with the broken neck and lacerated leg, is actually still alive, but barely, and is pumping out arterial blood at such a rate that he will be dead in a few moments.
And then he senses a large, carnivorous beast. It is out there, but he can't pin down where it is. What he can tell is that the creature is not a magical beast, but not a wholly natural one either. It doesn't possess any magical abilities so to speak, but something about it feels wrong. In form, it is a long, low-slung creature, built like a wolf, but far more massive.
Kel'Serrar awakens with a start.
"It's coming back! It's coming back!" - Kel'Serrar, frantic.
He takes an arrow from his quiver and imbues it with energy, ensuring it will fly true.
Hearing the ranger's shout, Harold snatches up a discarded spear from the ground and hurries to the others. There they stand, backs to each other, staring out into the darkness.
Kel'Serrar's arrow gleams with silvery light as he bends it to the bow. Drawing back, the ranger sights along the length, eyes scanning the darkness for that telltale distortion in the soft grey light coming from overhead.
There it is, and he lets fly.
29 Damage rolled on the Patriot Arrow to the face of the beast, making it just about the highest Damage single strike we've seen yet to my memory.There is a pained roar, and the beast, which was oh so close, withdraws once more, this time in agony.
"Good shot." - Maebh, unable to contain her relief.
"But it's not dead. Let's see if this is going to work..." - Tremor, who bends down next to the man with a broken neck.
The dwarf grimaces in agony and closes his eyes, drawing something up within him before forcing it to obey his will and take up residence in the fresh corpse. With a groan, Tremor's bloodshot eyes snap open and a flicker of green lightning dances across those inky-black orbs. And then the corpse beside him moves too. It staggers to its feet, head flopping grotesquely. Its eyes flash open and a sickly green glow emanates from within. It turns to look at the party and its mouth hangs open, distending oddly and revealing that same green glow within.
Tremor looks disturbed, but oddly pleased with himself. The rest of the party, even Breanna, are disgusted. The Dwergar directs the monstrosity north, following in its path. It has flopped its head back over its shoulder to stare creepily at its master, grinning in that weirdly distended manner.
Tremor knows the daemon he has forcibly bound hates him, and wishes to eat him, but it is incapable of doing so as it is under the dwarf's power. For now.
All it can do is carry out its orders and cause those who it feels has trapped it as much discomfort as it possibly can.
Kel'Serrar and Harold meanwhile go back to the hamlet, Kel'Serrar to set Eyric's leg and try to see to improving his condition and Harold to guard the hamlet in case something comes back to prey on its wounded occupants. Kel'Serrar is successful in splinting Eyric's leg and bringing him out of shock. The danger has passed, for now at least, thanks to Kel'Serrar's quick thinking.
The same cannot be said for the other three companions, who continue to follow Tremor's newest creation. It looks back hungrily at Maebh and Breanna, but it holds only hatred for Tremor, and its baleful glare is directed at him most of all.
As to the trail they follow, even Tremor, who is no great shake at tracking can follow these signs, as the beast is clearly in no small amount of agony and does not care for leaving no traces now. All it wants to do is get back to its lair and get the arrow out of its eye.
Before the three companions and their shambling monstrosity is a massive flat boulder, approximately the size of a house, fifteen yards before which the tracks appear to cease. Closer inspection reveals that the beast looks like it has gone through the rock.
Tremor sends his corpse to check if it is an illusion or something similar and the shambling thing walks straight into the rock an bounces off. It places a cold hand on the stone and pushes, but nothing happens, all the while looking creepily back at the one who has presumed to bind it to his will. The rock is real.
Getting very close to the rock, Breanna notices that there is a crevice at the base of the boulder that one could potentially slip through.
"I'm going to go through." - Breanna, who prepares to slip through.
It is far easier to do than she suspected, and she expects that it was in fact an optical illusion that the crevice appeared so small due to the boulder being so large.
She rolls through the crevice and rides the small drop to the cavern floor. The first thing she notices is that the cavern walls appear to have been excavated by magic as they are perfectly smooth with no noticeable toolmarks. At the far end of the cavern, huge, rusted iron bars. On the other side of the bars, a lit fireplace and a desk.
And then, on her own side of the bars, in the dim light given off by the glow of the fire, she sees a distortion in the air before her. And then the low, menacing growl.
"Maebh! Help!" - Breanna, scrambling backwards.
Panicking, the Leathe quickly calls up a daemon as quickly as she can as the beast stalks towards her. She shrouds herself in the shadows, revelling in the relative safety.
And then she sees the glowing red eyes, following her every movement.
It can still see her...And we left it there...
The Wrap-Up:
Well that was an excellent session really. It ended on a huge cliff-hanger, and it should be excellent to see how that is resolved this Saturday.
This has been our longest write-up by far to date, almost twice as long as our previous ones, which I think is just because I'm getting wordier. Ah well, more for you guys to read I guess. You'll just have to live with how long it takes me to write them.
As always, please comment if you enjoyed or have any questions. We do love seeing that our stuff is appreciated.
Take care,