Realms of Dread [IC] Chapter Three

[kintire]

Shana will try to get a private word with a priest, and let them know Rardi's situation. She'll give a brief account of the incident, highlighting the Devil and the undead.

[sorry for the brevity: away for weekend on borrowed internet!]

[Ken of Ghastria]

Blaise Redman leave the island and head for the mainland. Once ashore, Rask leads the way to a hole-in-the-wall cafe. The place is decorated inside with pastel landscapes and seascapes, all bordered by complex geometric motifs. The air is redolent of spices and incense, and the music of zithers and lutes hums in the background. A crowd half-fills the shadowy common room.

Among the expected mixed crowd of locals and travellers from elsewhere in the kingdom, there is a large foreign element:
Amnite merchants with their great cotton turbans and pointed yellow beards; supple dancing girls of Calimshan whose bodies flow like liquid fire- to set men's souls ablaze with desire, hardbitten Chessantan sellswords in thier cuirasses of layered linen and thin iron scales, a Sembian shipmaster and his officers, conspicuous in their natty uniforms of blue and white, etc.

Rask takes a booth in a rear corner of the big room, near two exits- both of which he can see from his seat.

"You surprise me, Captain," says Blaise, eyeing the women appraisingly and glancing at the rare goods. "To be frank, I hadn't associated this level of ... relaxation with you. But then our few conversations to date have been unrelentingly grim." Once he gets the attention of a serving girl, he orders coffee for himself and the captain. Then he turns back to Rask and says in a whisper (louder than he'd like because of the ambient sounds), "...and it's well chosen because it's off the beaten path, and allows us to blend in and converse relatively freely. So, all cards on the table, to use a favorite gambling cliche -- and I'm terrible at cards, by the way, really -- and tell me: What do you think is going on?"

[ewancummins]

"You surprise me, Captain," says Blaise, eyeing the women appraisingly and glancing at the rare goods. "To be frank, I hadn't associated this level of ... relaxation with you. But then our few conversations to date have been unrelentingly grim." Once he gets the attention of a serving girl, he orders coffee for himself and the captain. Then he turns back to Rask and says in a whisper (louder than he'd like because of the ambient sounds), "...and it's well chosen because it's off the beaten path, and allows us to blend in and converse relatively freely. So, all cards on the table, to use a favorite gambling cliche -- and I'm terrible at cards, by the way, really -- and tell me: What do you think is going on?"

''What do I think is going on? Delthrin may have been involved in the murders, or he may have been involved in smuggling, or maybe both. We don't have enough information to make a good guess and our chief witness would appear to be a dead man.
Serious errors in judgement have been made, errors which may get Rardi and Inovidil hanged. ''

Rask holds his breath and closes his eyes for a moment. He opens his eyes and exhales heavily, then continues to breathe normally. His voice is tightly controlled, and never becomes too loud:

''As I understand it, three of your team; Lieutenant Tagaris, Sergeant Silverhelm, and Inovidil, went to Blackpillars and broke in at night. They didn't even tell the other members of the team where it was they were going. That has to be the among the stupidest, most suicidal moves I've ever heard of... And all of this business was done with no official sanction, in pursuit of a closed case. Blaise, I cannot protect them if they conceal things from me or disobey my orders. They were supposed to be working on the smuggling case. If Delthrin was involved with that, they ought to have pursued him from that angle and they'd have gotten my support. Now this whole thing is a complete shambles. The necromancer is dead and so cannot be questioned about possible criminal activities, and the baron's servants have most of the team in custody.''

[ewancummins]

Morningmist Hall, Shana

Shana will try to get a private word with a priest, and let them know Rardi's situation. She'll give a brief account of the incident, highlighting the Devil and the undead.

[sorry for the brevity: away for weekend on borrowed internet!]

Shana is given an audience with Dawnlord Thumast Alfane, an assistant to the chief priest of the temple. The Dawnlord is a tall and handsome man in his early thirties, with brown hair and eyes, fair skin, dressed in the rose-colored robes of his rank and calling.


After patiently listening to Shana's harrowing account, the Dawnlord says,

'' Delthrin was an incomparable villain, and our city is well-rid of him. A devil in his cellars... I am not too surprised by that. He spent years distorting the soul of this already troubled city with his vile black magics and his wicked schemes- and now someone has had the courage to stop him directly! Alas, I fear that the court will not see the good that Rardi has done, but only the laws she has broken.''


The priest brushes a stray lock of hair from his brow. His face flushes with emotion as his voice picks up a notch,


'' Rardi's life is in danger- and so is yours, no doubt. We must act! I will advise my superiors of this matter and request an official protest, and I will go to Fishgut Rock and demand to see the prisoners.''

[kintire]

Shana looks with genuine admiration at the priest

"If there is anything I can do to assist you, you have only to name it sir. I've known Rardi only a short time but she has struck me as a stalwart and reliable foe of evil. And in any case, I have always respected the Morninglord and his priests. I'm a follower of Sune, myself, and Firehair desires her followers to aid the Morninglord's wherever possible, as you'll know."

[ewancummins]

Shana-

Thumast smiles and says,

''I cannot say that your worship of Sune comes as a surprise. The signs are manifest: beautiful in face and form, charming ways, fiery red hair. Shana, you might be one of her handmaidens, come to Toril to walk among mortals.''

He stands and grabs a travelling cloak from a hook on his office wall. Folding the cloak, he tucks it under his left arm.

''Shana- if you feel in too much danger to be out in public, feel free to remain within Morningmist Hall. The acolytes will attend to your needs. If you do go back out, leave some contact information with my secretary.''

[ewancummins]

Master Threan


Threan is in the Docks District. It's dusk now. Threan sees numerous beacons glowing in the gathering fog; the lanterns of taverns and lodging houses. Of course, Threan can see through the gloom more easily than most of the humans about him- revelers, late-returning travellers, pedlars, watchmen on patrol, etc. The atmosphere here seems rather festive, unlike the grim mood that's prevailed throughout Marsember since the terrible undead attack, fire, and death of Lord Scoril [along with so many others]. No, the neighborhood is definitely in celebration, and the kindly fog hides the worst of its scars, as if in sympathy to the mood of the folk. Every tavern Threan passes seems at least half-filled with men and women; singing, dancing, and drinking.

[Lord Skybolt]

As Threan takes a stroll around town before he heads back to his shop to see how things were doing in his absence from the Marsember . Then he will hit the hey as he would rather sleep in his own bed for tonight . He will check in at the Old Shell during his stroll to see if the news has gotten around about the groups activities .

[kintire]

Shana will leave her contact details at the Old Shell with the secretary and head back there to wait for Jamethon or (hopefully!) one of the others to get back with news

[Ken of Ghastria]

"Yeeeesss, well," says Blaise in response to Rask, "that was incredibly unwise of them. I'm slavishly adherent to rules and laws, so that's probably why they didn't include me in their plans. That said, let's not ignore what they have discovered, regardless of the means by which they discovered it. Hear me out for a moment, which I think you may, because that coffee does smell fantastic and we shouldn't let it go to waste.

"Missing heads. That's where this affair started and it's the point we're at now. I admit to being baffled ... until Mistress Gyrglass explained how her ritual worked. By the way, do you know if she's betrothed? She said that the ritual works only if the bodies have a mouth. Delthrin's body could relate no details about his 'final moments' because the entire head was taken. I wonder what it would have said....

"And those bodies that are able to speak have no real intelligence, and so are unable to relate details that occurred after 'the mind was dead and gone,' as she put it. But what if the mind were dead OR gone? The body of someone whose brain was removed, but still functioning, would react to the ritual in the same way as the body of an ordinary corpse, if there is such a thing in these parts.

"Remember, too, that Archedius' body did NOT confirm that the mind flayer killed Delthrin or even that Delthrin was killed. In response to her question, it said simply 'his head.' To me, this leaves two possibilities: One, if you assume that the monster did slay Delthrin, then the response means that Archedius didn't witness this act, which in turns means that the mind flayer painstakingly and cleanly removed Archedius' brain before slicing off Delthrin's head...?? That makes little sense. The second possibility? Well, Archedius' body was able to at least remember that there was a bargain involving the removal of something, probably Delthrin's head. But it didn't witness the necromancer's death. Sooo, he may not be dead, at least in the standard sense of the term."

He savors the dark, rich coffee. "Sounds mad, I know," he continues. "Not the first time that adjective has been used to describe my thoughts. Yet if I'm right, then poor Rardi can't be accused of aiding a murder when a murder hasn't been committed! Now let's look at the warehouse. In case you haven't noticed, I have the attention span of a sparrow, and if I see one more luscious, gyrating midriff coming toward me, I may abandon Rardi to the wolves."

[ewancummins]

Blaise-

Rask sips his coffee and lisetns to Blaise speak, letting the other man finish his part before replying,

''Yes, those are possibilities... I had said before that we didn't have enough information to make a good guess. Let's get to that warehouse and take a look around. We'll stop by headquarters and pick up a squad of men, just in case. ''

Rask stands.

''Oh, and son, she isn't betrothed. ''

A fleeting smile crosses the usually grim face of Watch-Captain Rask.

[ewancummins]

The Old Shell

Shana sits at the bar, at the end near the kitchen, getting filled in on local gossip by Nelly, Widow Callum's girl.

The patrons, excited by talk of the upcoming visit of the Regent [and some say, the child-king] are in a fine mood. Someone is singing the long version [and rather well, too] of ''A Cormyte's Boast.''

Nelly has just finished telling Shana about how Jamethon comes and goes at all hours of the night and sometimes forgets to eat his meals- but never forgets a drink, when the bargirl says-

''Excuse me, Shana, I've got to get that fellow's order. ''

Nelly turns away to serve someone who's just taken a seat at opposite end of the bar.

[ewancummins]

[This scene had been repeated here for the benefit of BBQD]


Alain-



Alain doesn't remember going to sleep, but he wakes up just the same. The alcoholic haze is gone, and he has a wee hangover coming on for sure. Opening his eyes, he sees that he is in a shadowy space under some sort of stone vault. He's flat on his back on a cold, hard surface. Child-sized figures cluster about him in the gloom, pulling at his clothes...

[BigBadQDaddy]

Realizing what sort of predicament he is caught in and what danger it poses, Alain shoots bolt upright, not thinking to protect his head from the danger of possible impact with the stone surfaces.
He produces his feather quill and recites a well known poem, causing it to emit light and then scrambles to hopefully gain some distance between himself and the child sized creatures surrounding him.

[ewancummins]

Alain

Alain bumps his head on the low stonework ceiling, a rather painful impact that will surely leave him with a goose-egg, but still manages to get off his spell of light. He can see the small figures pull back from the circle of illumination. Are they hissing?

Alain rushes through a gap in the retreating circle of whatever-they-are that surrounds him. By the light of his quill he can make out the outlines of boxes, barrels,etc filling much of a large, low room. He sees a wooden door, just slightly ajar, with a glimmer of firelight coming from the other side.