Café de Nuit

tarlyn wrote:She grins. "Id love to. But just us three, right?"

''Of course.''


Lord Ildool gets up from the table and walks to one of his guards.

''Have Nell Wynnet sent in, now. After you do that, ask the Steward if he still has finished contracting the bards for the royal feast. I want ones that can do a fine rendition of the tune, ''The Shepherd Lass.''

The guard salutes-

''Yes, my lord- as you command.''

Blaise walks with Ino over one of the footbridges leading from the small island. He leads the way back to the docks area -- specifically near Delthrin's old warehouse/smuggling HQ -- and begins keeping any eye out for Shana. "Keep in mind, Ino," he says with a smile, "we're disguised. Shana may not recognize us right away, although she should pick up the telltale swagger in my walk easily enough."

outside what's left of the Fane


Alain, Jamethon, Threan, Glim, Rask, and the escort/arresting party arrive at the prisoners' wagon. The bedraggled Myrkulites are being unloaded by confused-looking soldiers. Two dead bodies lie on the ground- headless. One is Ironheart, and one is that of a guardsman.

Alain, who has been stone silent since the arrest, walks with a defeated posture. Upon approaching the prisoners wagon he sees the body of Ironheart, and despite his predisposition towards the savage man, can't help but feel a great sadness at the sight of his corpse. He after all had invested himself in the cause.

Jamethon's words regarding Shana stung almost as much as seeing the barbarians body. He didn't recall her saying anything about payback. Of course he was, still is, in a great deal distress and perhaps didn't hear...
No, it was ridiculous to think that she would set out to harm any of her friends. She was self centered, but did not suffer delusions or become wrathful over petty squabbling. He would have to remember to ask Jamethon about that later. At the moment he felt too sick to speak.

outside the Fane

Jamethon sees that one of the soldiers is injured- a stab wound to his leg.

''I want to help him- I trust that's alright?''

The knight answers-
''Yes, of course.''

Jamethon retrieves a linen bandage from his pockets and approaches the injured man.

''Here, friend, let me help you.''

Inovidil giggles at Blaise comment.

"I'm sure she will!"

A slim blonde half elf girl is leaning against the corner of the warehouse, looking a little grumpy. As the two approach she glances over them, then takes a second and harder look.

"at LAST."

"Glad to see you are safe Shana and sorry you waited. Any news from the others?"

Blaise gives Shana a warm embrace. "Thank Tymora you're safe," he says with obvious relief. "Sorry for the delay. Ino obviously wasn't in on our plans, so she wonderfully improvised and sent us in a different direction. It took us a while to make our way back here, but..." He pulls out a cloth bundle containing some pieces of fresh bread and a couple of apples. "I managed to swipe these from a passing vendor on the way in case you hadn't eaten. Here."

"Yes, any word on the others? We need to figure out our next moves."

_________________________
OOC: Bluff check on Shana.
Bluff check (1d20+9=25)

King's Tower, a small audience chamber.


Nell Wynnet, pretty as ever , and dressed in a fashionable blue gown, enters the chamber and curtseys before Lord Ildool.


''My lord, my lady.''

Ildool waves for the supplicant to be seated.

''I understand that you have come to speak with me..oh, how rude of me! This is my new adviser, Breana. Breana, this is Mistress Nell Wynnet.''

Breana smiles sweetly at Nell, like a cat eyeing a mouse. "Nice to see you, Ms Wynett." Breana wastes no time and casts a spell even before the meeting can begin. Once that one is done, she casts another, holding out her fist and clutching it tightly in front of her.

tarlyn wrote:Breana smiles sweetly at Nell, like a cat eyeing a mouse. "Nice to see you, Ms Wynett." Breana wastes no time and casts a spell even before the meeting can begin. Once that one is done, she casts another, holding out her fist and clutching it tightly in front of her.

Breana's first spell has failed, but the follow-on spell seems to be working.

Nell can still speak- though she is wracked by agony with the curse of the second spell.

''Ahhhhrrrgghh...why...me...why...kill...me?''

Breana walks over to Nell and leans down to her, whispering in her ear so only the dying woman can hear:
"I am sure you remember that night, the night Delthrin died. And you remember someone offering you to leave town, you stupid bitch. Well I guess she was right, wasn't she? You dumb cow. And how do I know about this? Before you die, I'll tell you, you imbecile. That was me there, telling you to get out of town. I guess you should have taken my gems and listened to me!" Once the spell is done, Nell's heart appears in Breana's hand! She laughs heartily.

Turning to Ildool, she has a big smile. "So, you'll get her back to her quarters where she'll be discovered dead? Arrange the adoption of the child to me?

King's Tower-

Even as Nell gasps her final, agonized breath- just as the young woman's smoking heart appears in Rardi's hateful claw...
Rardi feels her connection with Myrkul abruptly severed. She is alone without her Dark Master's power! The audience room grows hazy and shapes become blurred and indistinct.


Near the fire-razed ruins of the Fane of Myrkul


Jamethon begins to wind the linen cloth around the guardsman’s leg. Without warning he suddenly stops and drops the bandage to the ground. The guardsman just stands there looking surprised.


Jamethon cries out-

‘’Ezra’s Holy Name! The power! Ahh….. Tatyana, they never staked you, never burnt your sweet body to ashes…’’


Alain and the gnome can see that the man’s leg is completely healed, with no sign of injury but some dried blood on his trousers.

The Myrkulite cultists, hedged within a ring of soldiers’ spears and swords, break out in a cacophony of mad laughter-

‘’Breana did it! She actually did it- she raised the Raven Queen from her tomb! Vengeance will be ours! Hail Myrkul!’’


on the docks [Ino, Blaise, and Shana]

As the three friends discuss their plans, they overhear someone nearby exclaim-

''Now aint that queer- it usually moves with the wind, not agin' her!''


All across Marsember-


The gray shroud that lays across the town is now increasing in volume and thickness with astonishing rapidity. The vaporous exhalations of the Starwater River and the many canals of the city rise to join the miasma of smoke-tainted sea fog that overhangs Marsember. Groping fingers of animate mist feel their silent way into all the city’s houses, through the tallest windows of the King’s Tower, over the black ruins of the Fane of Myrkul and of Morningmist Hall, into the vessels in the harbor, down each shadowy back-alley, into every bed and every cradle…


When the fog lifts the next day; not a single man, woman or child is left within the city…not even the dead.



END OF CHAPTER FIVE, AND THE END OF REALMS OF DREAD




........................


EPILOGUE




Historical note-
Taken from:

Raunic of New Marsember [Sembian Protectorate]
Notes on the Cormyrian Civil War,
First published in Selgaunt, 1472 DR

The roots of this devastating and tragic conflict [1373-1387], which slew many thousands and shattered once-proud Cormyr into seven lesser realms, are often traced back to Azoun V’s many amorous conquests. The lusty king’s romantic exploits produced a stable of bastards that would rise to contend for Cormyr’s throne after the violent dissolution of the Regency Council during the second ten-day of Marpenoth, 1373.

Of course, the Succession Crisis that prompted the creation of the doomed Regency Council would never have come to pass without the mysterious events that occurred during the final days of Flamerule, 1372:

-the disappearance of both the boy-king Azoun V and his protector, Princess Regent Alusair, on the road to Marsember-

and

-the disappearance at the same time of the entire population of that city.

Anecdotal accounts describe the Regent and her party entering a thick mist. She had characteristically refused to turn back on account of the vagaries of the weather
Her last recorded words were ‘’ It’s only a wee fog, nothing unusual for Marsember.’’

Diviners and would-be prophets have made many conflicting claims about these strange vanishings, and it is my opinion that we may never know the truth. The gods, or else some dark powers of the universe, have veiled the truth from our sight just as the mists may mask the shoreline from the gaze of watchful mariners.