The Eye of Anubis: Book Four

[NeoTiamat]

The Ossuary of Ibn Sayyid, The Necropolis of Phiraz
May 24th, 761, 6:23 PM; Day 68 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"So that's him again." Michel murmurred to himself. "I always forget how much you want to kill him in person."

Guy said nothing, though by his side, Loup growled and snarled, knowing that something was badly wrong with the situation, and not liking the false Judge's change of voice. The two massive Confessors, for their part, followed along after Cavendish, still two silent monuments.

Even as he walked, his back to you, you saw Cavendish's form change and shift, colors blurring and running together like on a painter's palette. The white robes of the Confessor became the black undertaker's coat Cavendish wore, and Judge al-Shirazi's swarthy skin turn the ashen pallor of the inhuman thing that called itself John Lancaster Cavendish.

His back still to you, Cavendish stood before the sarcophagus-turned-altar, picking up and examining the silken top hat and the bloodied, broken quarterstaff, before turning the ebony lenses in his hand, cleaning them calmly with a handkerchief.

"So, John Lancaster Cavendish," she says out loud. "Or maybe I should call you Johnny. We've been eager for each other's demise for long enough, I imagine. So, Johnny. Here we are again, in one of your cute little set-ups. What's the speech of the day? I imagine you must have a fine one planned, or we wouldn't all be here, you'd have tried to bump us off while we were on the road."

"You know, Miss Mournswaithe, your trouble is you have no sense of style. You've enough power to terrorize at least a decent village, but you insist on your frumpy dresses and boorish matters. My dear girl, if you ever tried to become a proper agent of all evil, you'd be laughed out of the Core."

Cavendish lifted the ebony spectacles to his face and put them on, and only then did he turn around, the mage's inhuman features so eternally recognizable. The weirdly angled bones, the grin of shark's teeth, the grey, ashen skin, and the eternally hidden eyes, beneath their emotionless lenses.

Cavendish barely bother to waste a glance looking at Ishaq or Otto, dismissing them with a casual wave of his clawed hand. "Oh, and muzzle your lapdogs, Miss Mournswaithe, you don't believe I'd be here without a few dozen wards of protection."

"Why are you working with it." Tomas pants, fury spilling out through his voice, "And how do we stop it and free its victims's souls."

"A correction, Herr Eisenwald." Cavendish grinned, his sharp, pointed teeth like some vision out of nightmare. "I am not working with it. I created it."

"As for why....? Listen, Herr Eisenwald, if you will. What is that sound?" Theatrically, John Lancaster Cavendish cupped a clawed hand to the side of his head. You only heard the moaning and screaming of the Defacer, somewhere below your feet. "It's the sound of horror, Herr Eisenwald. The sound of fear, and helplessness."

"Everywhere in this great, glorious city, the population is terrified! The Confessors are powerless, the Prophet is a joke, and their fear rises to the sky. Every moment from dawn till dusk, the people wonder, 'will I be next?' Can't you just hear the fear? Can't you smell it?" Cavendish grinned even wider, spreading his arms as though embracing all the horror and panic and fear he had created. "Isn't it wonderful!"

"And you can't stop it!"

[The Whistler]

"And you can't stop it!"

"That is correct."

Otto's voice and eyes were flat, almost distant, the sentences dredged up from some deeper well of reasoning--which had apparently decided to shunt its full capacity to the production of dialectic. The surface over the logic was gone, at least temporarily.

He stepped forward.

"We cannot remove the fear of the people. The fear of the people is a reaction by them to a cause; we can no more take away the fear of a person directly than you can remove the happiness of a person directly, provided that neither you nor we are not within their minds. You can, however, indirectly remove the happiness of a person by removing the cause for them to be happy, and trusting that they will decide to become unhappy; you indeed do this. Ergo. We can indirectly remove the fear of the people by removing the cause for them to be fearful. We must trust that they make the decision to recover, after the cause is removed; that is all we are able to do, and so we aim to do it."

He was no more than a few paces away from Cavendish at this point. For the first time in his speech, something feral flashed through his eyes.

"You are the cause. Sir."

[lostboy]

Khalil freezes solid as Cavendish appears, this monster here amongst us, that he could do such things, kill with such callous regard, toy with mens lives as his pawns.

The scene from the museum floods back before his eyes, the bodies, twisted in pain, the suffering, the malice... And here the cause stands before us yet again, gloating in his triumph.

Whilst the desert guide feels the linger effects of last nights encounter, cowardice is not a welcome emotion. Sometimes you must face your fears and vanquish them, Anubis protect me and guide my hands. he thinks with a brief glance to the ceiling above.

"And you can't stop it!"

"I would think we beg to differ, my friend." Khalil hisses through clenched teeth as he draws both blades.

[yalenusveler]

"What's the challenge in it though? I mean...what do you get out of all this? The torment...the horror you cause. I mean, if Lia has the power to terrify a decent village...It can't be for the challenge." Andre said, taking almost everything within him not to start launching spells at the most assuredly NOT good Mr.Cavendish.

Softer than his inquiry though, was prayer. To whatever force in the universe would listen to one such as him.

Unfortunately, Andre had studied enough to know that that list...was unpleasantly sparse.

[Nathan of the FoS]

"What a vainglorious fellow you are, to be sure," Charles notes. "I notice these speeches are never made in the presence of the Prophet, or the Count von Zarovich. Or even the Anubite. Since, presumably, you require us as your captive audience, let us dispense with all this prologue and proceed directly to the main event; you exit stage left, laughing villainously, we destroy your leavings, and...more's the pity...the show goes on."

[NeoTiamat]

The Ossuary of Ibn Sayyid, The Necropolis of Phiraz
May 24th, 761, 6:23 PM; Day 68 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"You are the cause. Sir."

"I would think we beg to differ, my friend." Khalil hisses through clenched teeth as he draws both blades.

"Sticks and stone may break my bones, but words have yet to hurt me. Actually, come to that, sticks and stones prove singularly ineffective as well."

John Lancaster Cavendish grinned, taking up the broken quarterstaff in his his left hand and twirling it like a baton, the darkened wood and yellowed bone whirling in a circle.

You could hear the horrid screaming grow louder, more anguished, and it sent a chill up your spine. Such agony...

"What's the challenge in it though? I mean...what do you get out of all this? The torment...the horror you cause. I mean, if Lia has the power to terrify a decent village...It can't be for the challenge." Andre said, taking almost everything within him not to start launching spells at the most assuredly NOT good Mr.Cavendish.

"What do I get out of it?" Cavendish seemed almost surprised at the question, his shark's grin growing thoughtful. "Why, the fun!"

"Others may spend their time in dusty towers searching books of forgotten lore, to the point where moss grows over them and they forget what the world looks like. Not I. I'm out to enjoy my life, thank you very much."

"I torture a man to death, watching his mind shattered into a million fragments by the pain. I force a mother to watch her son ripped apart slowly by ghouls. I let a village know that it's I who destroyed their crop, dooming them to slow starvation. Why? Because it is just so much FUN!"

"What a vainglorious fellow you are, to be sure," Charles notes. "I notice these speeches are never made in the presence of the Prophet, or the Count von Zarovich. Or even the Anubite. Since, presumably, you require us as your captive audience, let us dispense with all this prologue and proceed directly to the main event; you exit stage left, laughing villainously, we destroy your leavings, and...more's the pity...the show goes on."

Something in Charles' words struck Cavendish as being greatly amusing, as the villain tossed his head back and roared laughter, the same insane, wily cackle that had burned into your minds in the Muzeavh, descending to a slow chuckle.

"Well, I can hardly let a line like that go by. If you so insist, M. Martel." And with that, Cavendish whipped the silken top hat from the table and stood a little aside. "I learned this little trick in Port-a-Lucine, from La Societe' de Legerdemain."

Cavendish held out the hat at arms reach, over the sarcophagus, and theatrically swished his bloodied cane below it and above it. "I shall attempt to summon a rabbit from this hat. Observe, nothing below the hat, nothing above the hat."

The unnatural fiend tipped the hat over, shaking it slightly. "And nothing within the hat."

"But when I place it upon the table and say the magic words, I shall pull a rabbit from this hat." Suiting deed to word, Cavendish stepped back a bit.

"Abra!" The mage tapped the brim of the hat lightly once with his broken quarterstaff.

"Kadabra!" A second tap. You noticed that the horrid screaming from below was getting louder still.

"Alakazam!" A third tap. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you..... Bunny!"

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For a short moment, there was a silence, and then from the stone floor before the sarcophagus, there came a great roar of screaming as the Defacer burst from ground.

It was huge, a hulking, hideous form, taut, rubbery-black skin stretched over its muscled frame. It was taller than Ishaq even, a monstrosity in all senses of the term. But what was most horrible was that it had no face of its own. Just a smooth surface, like a store-front dummy's. The form walked not like a human, but like a great ape, its forearms longer and thicker than they had any right to be.

But it had faces, oh yes. Dozens of swirling human faces were etched in pale blue fire, moving across the Defacer's solid form. The victims of the Angra Mainyu, trapped forever in endless torment, screaming piteously for release, for rescue, for death, for all would be the same. This was the screaming you heard, that had led you from the start. And now it was here.

And heaven's above, the screaming! There were no words to describe it, save that this was the anguished screaming of the damned, of those whose very souls have been lost.

The Defacer reared back onto its hind legs and the dozens of ghostly faces screeched in unison for one ear-splitting second. This was evil, yes, no smaller an evil than that of Cavendish in its own way.

"My... what large rabbits Phiraz has." Cavendish said, deadpan, even as he smiled his shark grin at you. "Bunny? Rip their souls out, there's a good rabbit."



[Combat has Begun! First off, so long as you are within 60 ft. of the Defacer, you are Shaken, no save, unless you are immune to Sonic, Mind-Affecting, or Fear effects. So I think that's everyone but Tomas.

Secondly, Everyone must make a DC 16 Fear check. Those within 10 feet of Tomas (see map below, that's everyone but Andre and Lia, I think), get a +4 on that save.

Thirdly, the Defacer has just cast Haste on all of its allies in the area.

Notes on terrain: The sarcophagi take up their entire square, but you can jump up on them (Jump DC 15, 10 feet of movement) to gain a +1 to attack rolls. Hopping off deals no damage or costs any additional movement.

The bone piles are very thick, and are thus considered Dense Rubble, requiring 2 squares of movement to enter.

Cavendish and the two 'Confessors' aren't doing anything. Yet.



Player Status Report:
All: Shaken
Kuzan:
Tomas: Undead Bane Weapon.
Charles:
Ishaq:
Otto:
Lia: Extended False Life (+12 HP), Extended Mage Armor (+4 AC), Message.
Andre:
Khalil:

NPC Status Report
Michel:
Guy:
Loup:

Bunny: Hasted.

[Kaitou Kage]

"Om!" Kuzan shouted, thrusting his staff up toward the ceiling. For a moment, it looked as if the holy syllable materialized as a gleaming glyph in the air before him, then vanished instantly. A burst of invisible divine energy flooded the chamber, washing over friend and foe alike. The strength of the gods empowered his allies, bolstered them against the terror of the situation and guided their arms to further victory. At the same time, the divine enacted their disfavor and anger on his enemies, hindering their assault, hampering their ability to act freely.

Casting prayer. All allies gain a +1 luck bonus to pretty much every d20 roll, all allies suffer a -1 luck penalty to the same.

This bonus doesn't apply to any saves made for the rolls in the above post since the Prayer wasn't cast yet.

[Nathan of the FoS]

"Hoplon," Charles mutters, and a circular shimmer of force forms at his chest. He pushes his way forward, hopping up on the sarcophagus between Khalil and Tomas, weapons out and smiling very slightly, albeit with a bit of strain due to the horrifying aura of the Defacer. "Dilly, dilly, come and be killed!"

casting Shield

[yalenusveler]

Andre saw the Defacer Bigger than expected. Bigger they are, harder they hit, but harder they fall down.ran through his mind before he realized this was in fact, no time to be puerile.

"Everyone, remember what i said, It can steal bits of your soul, and it requires silver to truly harm!" Came a shout from Andre...and then a brief intonation of Prayer..followed with "Clamo!", A projectile of sound leaping from Andre to the Defacer.

Dark Knowledge for a +1 to saves VS the Defacer's abilities. Dosen't apply against initial fear though. 27 damage from sound lance, DC 18 to save for half.

[steveflam]

OOC : Fast movement and moves to face the Defacer. One attack 26 rolled. 13 dmg.

Ishaq is about to rush Cavendish but is distracted by the foul beast appearing. Growling and spitting, yelling at the top of his lungs, he moves to intercept the thing. Swinging his great sword once, he hits it square on, hurting it a little he hopes.

[The Whistler]

Otto shudders briefly, squinting his eyes shut and...growling?...as the familiar grey-brown tinge washes over his skin. Then--open, his vision and his pistol sights centered upon the monstrosity...

And then:

...Silver?

...Ugh. WHY can't ANYthing JUST work PROPerly...

He digs around in his belt for the bomb from the previous night.

Metallic allergies aside--never met a horrifying abomination that could withstand a pound of oxidizing gunpowder in the face.

"Stay back, Ishaq! Explosion is coming; I do not want to miss!"

[Rock of the Fraternity]

(Fear save vs. Defacer: 26. Whew.)

"You know, Miss Mournswaithe, your trouble is you have no sense of style. You've enough power to terrorize at least a decent village, but you insist on your frumpy dresses and boorish matters. My dear girl, if you ever tried to become a proper agent of all evil, you'd be laughed out of the Core."

"My sense of style, Johnny, is my own," Lia replies coolly, "not yours. I would look the fool if I acted like you, for you are ever the jackanapes, the hack, the hysterical self-pleasing performer. I have more interesting things to do with my time than terrorizing the helpless."

When the defacer bursts from the ground, Lia grits her teeth against the wave of terror it exudes -- and shakes it off with a snarl and an effort of will.

'Combat has begun, yes?' she thinks, her mind going cold as ice. 'Well, time to learn from the past!'

Lia raises her hands and calls out a spell: "Septiens aliquis acceleram, me et socii mei! Incipe!" A rush of power shoots through the room, a cold sensation briefly washing over Kuzan, Tomas, Ishaq, Otto, Andre and Khalil. To their senses, the world seems to slow down, or else they themselves are accelerated, cool power filling their bodies.
Lia flicks a finger at Andre and whispers; to Andre, it will be as if she is speaking directly to him: "Just shout Yes! or No! out loud: will fire hurt it properly?"

If Andre shouts 'Yes!', Lia's next words are a roar: "Everyone get out of my way!" and raises her hands, pointing them at the defacer ... If the answer is "No!", she curses under her breath and considers other options.

(Lia cast Haste on every PC except Charles. Sorry ...! I can only do seven at a time at this level, but I thought I'd get the buffs in early this time, as we discussed previously. Next round sees fireworks ... Hopefully. All beneficiaries of Haste receive: 1) an extra attack with any weapon they're holding at full BAB if they put in a full attack action, 2) +1 to attack rolls, AC and Dex. rolls, 3) movement speed increases by 30 ft.)

[lostboy]

[OOC: Fear save 16 whew indeed! Tomas can you stand next to Khalil in all future scary situations please? ]

Khalil grimaces at the sight of the thing before them, treuly this creature was a minion of the darkness. Its very presence adds to the feeling of powerlessness building inside the desert guide, but grtting his teeth he wills those feeligns away.

Everyone, remember what i said, It can steal bits of your soul, and it requires silver to truly harm!" Came a shout from Andre...

Hearing this Khalil drops to one knee behind the wall tomb in fornt of him. Sheathing a scimitar he draws a shorter bent blade and a vial form a pouch at his belt. Popping the cork he pours the silvery liquid over the blade, it flows strangely hugging the metal and glowing lightly.

Ditching the vial Khalil stands, a grim look on his face, his two blades glittering silver in the light, and moves forward through the pile of bones eyeing both the confessor and the thing warily.

[OOC: applying Silversheen to the Kukri giving the properties of alchemical silver then moving through the bone pile to square A9]

[DocBeard]

(OOC: Fear Save: 18. Okay, I'm going to try and get to the side so Lia and Otto have a clear path of fire, while taking a swipe at the thing. If that's impossible, I'll still take a swipe and save my move action to get out of the way the hard way. Either way, burning a Sacred Vengence and taking +2 of my attack bonus for an AC boost.)

Tomas chances a glance behind him, and to the side, before nodding to himself. For once, he's not the only thug on the front line, and that gives them a few more options.

"Well, that's a very well reasoned point, Mister Cavendish. You certainly have set an atmosphere of fear, terror, horror, and black comedy. Well done. You've only forgotten one thing, if I may be so bold, sir, in your whole 'unending nightmare of doom' equation."

Tomas moves, slicing his sword along the floor and shoving forward a cloud of dust, giving him a split second of manuverability before he hops into the air, shouting, "Me!" before swinging his sword at the monster's head and torso region! Region being a poor word to end an action filled sentence on, but can you pick out a better explination for the lump of meat becides 'the front', which makes it sound like Our Man Tomas is going out on the porch for a drink, so, really, the options are limited.

(OOC: 22 for to hit, 29 damage if that gets through.)

[NeoTiamat]

The Ossuary of Ibn Sayyid, The Necropolis of Phiraz
May 24th, 761, 6:23 PM; Day 68 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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[Round Summary:
Kuzan casts Prayer
Charles casts Shield, moves to B8
Andre uses Dark Knowledge, casts Sound Lance, Defacer saves, 13 damage.
Ishaq attacks once, hits, deals 13-10=3 damage
Otto does not much.
Lia casts Haste
Khalil applies Silversheen to a Kukri.
Tomas attacks, hits, deals 29-10=19 damage.

"Why can't we ever fight anything good looking?" Michel asks rhetorically, drawing his rapier and swishing it in the air with a calmness that belied the slight tremor in his hand. "Zombies, Defacers, seems unfair really. Why can't we fight a succubus or something? You know, that reminds me of a story I once heard..."

And so Michel launched into a long and slightly off-color story involving a wizard who used a very novel way of assassinating enemies, and one day found himself drained in return. You had to smile, even through the battle-fear. If Michel could still joke and tell stories, things couldn't be so bleak.

Guy, for his part, unlimbered the overgrown war-axe at his side, raised his shield, and advanced, planning to outflank the Defacer. "Loup, Pass Auf."

The dog growled, then stood his ground near Lia and Andre, ready to protect them at need.

[Michel Inspires Courage, +1 to attack rolls, damage rolls, and fear and enchantment saves. Guy tries to flank the Defacer, Loup remains to guard the spellcasters.]

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"My sense of style, Johnny, is my own," Lia replies coolly, "not yours. I would look the fool if I acted like you, for you are ever the jackanapes, the hack, the hysterical self-pleasing performer. I have more interesting things to do with my time than terrorizing the helpless."

"What can I say? I was traumatized by a vaudeville performer at the tender age of seven. It left me twisted for life." Cavendish grinned, twirling his quarterstaff-cane-baton, as he displayed teeth worthy of a sailor's nightmare. His gaze caught the two Confessors, still standing there. "Well, what are you waiting for? I didn't wrench your slumbering spirits from the cold embrace of death just so you could loiter about. Go on, Entomb them or something, earn your pay!"

And with that, the illusion faded from the two Confessors, a quick, fast change of color as their robes became black, and the dead decay of their faces was evident. Wire stitched their mouths shut, and with a lumbering run, they charged at Khalil and Guy, flailing with their fists.

[Top-Entomber attacks Khalil, deals 14 damage, Entomb DC 16.

Bottom-Entomber attacks Guy, also deals 14 damage. Guy saves vs. Entomb.

Also, currently, both Entombers, Ishaq, and Tomas are all considered flanked.

Ishaq and Tomas both get AoOs versus the Entomber's charge.

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The Defacer, meanwhile, let out a screech with its myriad faces, slamming its fists into Tomas and Ishaq, and missing the paladin once. It was like being hit with sledgehammers. The Defacer was fast, and it was strong, and the heavy, bony fists lashed out with preternatural accuracy. Tomas caught one on the shield, but still, the assault continued.

[Full attack by the Defacer.
-Slam on Tomas. Miss.
-Slam on Tomas. Hit. 10-1=9 damage.
-Slam on Ishaq. Hit. 15 damage.

Both Tomas and Ishaq must make a DC 21 Will Save or else be Stunned for 1 round. Bear in mind you guys are getting a host of minor buffs.

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"You know what this fight needs?" Cavendish seemed to be enjoying himself a great deal, but then agan, watching a paladin get pounded is an event to warm the cockles of any villain's heart. Or whatever organ said villain uses. "Musical accompaniment."

With a dance-like half-turn, the lunatic magus points his wand-esque broken quarterstaff at the bone piles behind him, intoning a few arcane syllables with the malicious glee you had learned to loathe. "Prosnes, Starye Kosti, E Slyshai Meni!"

And the old bones obeyed. With a screech of bone on bone and a swirl of evil necromancy, the undead rose from the bones behind Cavendish, the ancient, yellowed skeletons assembling themselves by force of the wizard's will alone. But Cavendish had prepared himself for this little scene well, it seemed, for each skeleton wore what even in this battle you had to admit was the most outlandish costume you had ever seen, black suits and black spats, each bearing a similarly resurrected instruments.

With a laugh, Cavendish waved a hand at a skeleton with what appeared to be a saxophone. "Hit it, Maestro!"

And the discordant, insane music began, but once again, you had to admit, Cavendish could sing. He was a monster of depravity beyond human imagining, he had killed at least twenty people that you knew of, had watched as his minions brutally murdered Ulsaon, but for all that... as he sang, you had to stop yourself from humming along or tapping your foot in time to the music.

"A little melody to lighten the mood!"

• "A is Andre who fell off a mule
  B is for Boris who was eaten by ghouls
  C is for Charles with disease of the brain
  D is for Dev’reux by accident arcane
  E is for Edmund who was buried alive
  F is for Fila who was stabbed through the eye
  G is for Guy who died in the gloom
  H is for Haulfstead who was sealed in a tomb
  
  One by one you bite the dust,
  You kick the bucket and begin to rust,
  Give up the torch when the number's up,
  You all fall down
  Ashes to ashes; bones to paste
  You'll wither away in your resting place
  Eternity in a wooden case; you all fall down"

Player Status Report:
All: Shaken (-2 Rolls), Prayer (+1 Rolls), Dark Knowledge (+1 Saves), Haste (+1 Attack Roll, +1 AC, +1 Reflex Save, +30 feet speed, One more attack on full attack), Inspire Courage (+1 Attack, Damage, Fear, Enchantment)
Kuzan:
Tomas: Undead Bane Weapon (+2 / +2d6+2 vs. Undead), Combat Expertise +2 AC/-2 AB, 9 damage.
Charles: Shield (+4 AC)
Ishaq: 15 damage.
Otto:
Lia: Extended False Life (+12 HP), Extended Mage Armor (+4 AC), Message.
Andre:
Khalil: Silversheened Kukri, 14 damage.

NPC Status Report
Michel:
Guy: 14 damage.
Loup:

Enemy Status Report
Bunny: Hasted, 35 damage
Top-Entomber:
Bottom-Entomber: