The Eye of Anubis: Book Twelve

[Kaitou Kage]

"If things get too crazy," Kuzan murmured quietly to Dieter, "Run. Get out and get away. Don't get yourself killed here, okay?"

Would love to write another elaborate spellcasting post but I've had quite an epic day and things have been nuts. So I am just posting this.

Hide From Undead (DC 17): Kuzan, Charles, Carter
Owl's Wisdom: Carter
Death Ward: Kuzan
Death Ward (scrolls): Dieter*, Sascha, Carter(?)
Protection from Negative Energy (scrolls): Everyone not in the Death Ward list
True Seeing: Kuzan
Blur: Kuzan
Spell Immunity: Kuzan (Blindness/Deafness, Sound Lance, Spiritual Weapon)

EDIT: Crisis averted, the game is no longer broken!

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Normalcy has already left the building," Lia replies to Andre as she pats him on the shoulder. "I think it left about the same time that Menetnashte swung a corpse on a rope through the auditorium's window. Perhaps even before ... Blast."

Lia clears her thoat and addresses the group: "We have not always gotten along as well as we might have, and I admit I was often the cause. But still, lady and gentlemen: whatever happens, it's been a privilege to work with you all. Together, we have accomplished great things. Now let's get in there and accomplish one more."

With that out of the way, Lia turns to the next point on the agenda: "Do we all charge in as a group, or do we divide into one main strike force and a couple of sniper teams? The opera's balconies would provide a very nice elevation from which to fire spells and, if needed, divebomb the rest of the hall."

[Kaitou Kage]

"Sniper teams sound like a good idea," Kuzan said, "How long will you all need to get into position? And should we put a healer or two with them just in case, or leave all healers on the ground?"

[lostboy]

Sascha looks thoughtful for a moment then responds. "If we do divide our efforts, we should make each team as self-sufficient as is possible. Everyone will need access to a healers touch I am certain."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Of course, sir Dz- Dze-," Lia struggles, then finally shakes her head and gives up. "Of course we shall all need a healer among us, Sascha," she agrees. "Good thinking."

[Nathan of the FoS]

Charles half-smiles at Sarari, not quite perfectly concealing his nerves, and then turns to look at the building, casting his mind back to the times (too few, it would seem, but who could have known?) he's been there in the past.

"Entering from the main doors, we'll come directly into the hall. Stairs leading up on both sides to seven balconies, one in the back, three on either side of the stage. Four aisles, two at the outer walls and two in the center, so the seats are divided into three parts. There's an orchestra pit, and then the stage itself, both semicircular. I don't know much about the backstage area. Presumably there are doors at the back leading into it, but I don't know how much advantage we could get by using them. Snipers up the stairs and into the balconies as the main group goes down the aisles. Yes?"

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Seeing as we are dealing with Ramsey," Lia adds, "we should not subdivide the sniper teams to take advantage of every balcony. Two groups, powerful enough to handle themselves, and they are to bar off their balconies once they're on them. Agreed? Also ... we should agree on a time to strike. Pocket watches out?" The mage presents her own.

[DocBeard]

Tomas holds up his own watch, uncharacteristically taciturn. He's focusing all of his energy on preparing himself for the fear and pain ahead. There can be no escape for Cavendish this time-and it's so much better to think of him as Cavendish. Ramsey's some stranger, a professor he sort of admired. Cavendish is his Enemy.

"If I die." Tomas says, after a long moment. "There is a letter, in my dorm, under my bed. If one of you could deliver it to my family, I would appreciate it."

Peace said, Tomas waits for the starter gun to fire.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"If I have to, I will," Lia promises. "But I want to not have to do that, Tomas."

Lia seems to almost chew on a thought for a moment, then sighs: "None of you owe me anything. But I deposited the Featherflute's symphony and the money he gave me to put in on stage with an attorney. Marchand-Renier co-signed as my partner in that endeavour. If I don't make it, my share of the profits is to go to my sister. If I don't survive, I'll be counting on you to go and tell her and grand-mêre that they should be taken care of.

... And I would also appreciate those who have the opportunity and the inclination keeping an eye on the execution of that symphony. I never did find time to play it and see whether it had any special properties."

[NeoTiamat]

Grand Opera Nationale, Port-a-Lucine, Dementlieu
September 18th, 761, 2:41 PM; Day 184 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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The Opera House, when you entered, was pitch-black. All of the lamps and candles were doused, and even though it was not yet three in the afternoon, the Mists outside the windows provided little illumination. Enough to not trip over your own feet, and nothing more.

Instead, you followed the music to find Cavendish. Soft, echoing music carried through the Opera House, filling your minds with its haunting sound. The orchestra band was playing, more beautifully than mortal man could ever manage. The horns never paused for breath, not a single note was played wrong, not a beat was ever missed. It didn't have quite the same preternatural tones of the Featherflute, but still the inhuman orchestra played, running under your skin as you drew ever closer.

The doors to the opera chamber were open, and darkness lay beyond. A lightless cavern without windows or skylights lay before you. Only a handful of candles lit the room, pinpoints of light swallowed up by the darkness, flickering eerily in the black abyss. A green glow from emanated from the stage, casting sickly green illumination across the floor, and yet it did nothing to push back the inky shadows that surrounded everything. Even now, you could smell the rich, iron scent of blood, spiced with the sour tang of nervous sweat and the occasional less charming smells that came about when a grown man was eviscerated, his guts spilling to the ground. Mostly though, you smelled blood, rich blood, crimson blood, blood enough to drown in.

The Opera House was a scene of chaos, a scene of battle and murder. Velvet seats were torn and ripped asunder, a few of them smashed by some horrid weight. Everywhere you looked you could see discarded opera glasses or abandoned dinner jackets, lost by some hapless opera-goer in the flurry of the escape. There weren't very many corpses; it seemed that most of the people who had come to watch the matinee showing had escaped, but there were some who were less fortunate. Near the entrance was one such body, a bloody red mass that scarce looked human. Its very skin had been ripped away, the unlucky theater-lover flayed alive scarcely moments from escape. The massive gouges in the floor, where stone talons the size of bayonets had ripped through the carpeting to the wooden floor below, left little doubt as to the culprit.

The music still played, pouring forth from the orchestra pit at the front of the room. The music grew a little louder, a little more strident, growing to echo the grisly scene that stood before you. You could see movement from the orchestra pit, as horns blared and drums pounded away, but you could make out no human shapes or figures, no shadow or stray glimpse. Merely dark, enchanted instruments playing away, an inhuman song to accompany an inhuman scene. Above the chamber, the Opera House's celebrated chandelier clinked and chimed sorrowfully, the hundreds of candles standing unlit in the massive complex of leaded crystal. The crystal chandelier was larger than most carriages, and when it was lit it burned like a rising sun. Now it was dark, and such light as there was in this defiled chamber came from the stage.

The Eye of Anubis lay at the center of it, balefully staring out at you. A double-teardrop of a gem, not larger than a man's two fists, but it had been the cause of so much madness, death and despair as could scarcely be imagined. It stood upon a slender pillar of stone, grasped firmly between three prongs of rock atop the stage, and from it the venomous-green glow provided some little illumination. Inside the Eye of Anubis, the darkness that was Beherit stirred restlessly, watching, waiting.

The rest of the light came from a ritual circle, writ large upon the boards of the stage. Before the Eye stood the Sign of Beherit, the grim mark that would call forth the demon from his prison. At either side stood the signs of his servitors, as they had stood beside him before they were sealed away. To the right lay the sign of Ronove, the Dreaming Beast, the Prince of Madness. To the left there was the sign of Marchosias, the Red King, Schemer and Advisor. All of this, Eye and pedestal, Sign and Sigils, was surrounded by an arcane focusing array such as modern magic had long since forgotten how to craft, if it ever knew how. Once, the ritual circle had been painted onto the floorboards, daubed onto them in secret with chemicals and oils and etched with a silver knife. Now, the circle glowed with a reflection of the Eye's poisonous luminescence, a ritual done in magic and light, not with any mundane tools.

Arrayed around the circle were several less-than-willing participants of this ritual. Four acolytes, dressed in robes of black velvet, stood in a half-circle on the stage, facing the circle and the audience. They were nearly invisible in the darkness, lit only by the candles each hapless man or woman held in their hands. Soft, silken rope bound their fingers together, forcing them to clutch the black candle in their grip even as hot wax dripped down onto their flesh. One of them, an unfortunate soul with a lyre tied to his waist, sobbed harshly as his hands burned beneath the wax, choking sobs that were only half pain, but pure terror. Another, a woman with a mask of tragedy upon her face, struggled against her bonds, but the ropes had been tied well - and between the ropes at wrists, knees, and waist, she could neither move nor escape, nor even fall. You recognized these four forced acolytes, dressed in black and carrying black candles, as the Arts of Dementlieu, tragic mockeries of the statues that stood outside. Drama with her tragedian's mask, Music with his lyre, Dancing, Song, symbols of Dementlieu no less, if not more, than the Council of Brilliance.

Schrodinger, the great skeletal cat, was sitting before the orchestra pit, running a set of fossilized claws along his sabre-like fangs. Perhaps he was sharpening them, perhaps he was cleaning them, in some forgotten memory of feline grooming. Certainly they needed cleaning, as the undead horror was liberally covered with blood, thick and crimson, that gleamed a dull red in the Eye's light. Bits of flayed skin stuck to the cat's bones, a gruesome reminder of the carnage the bone-cat had wrought.

Up on the balconies were other figures, new and heretofore unseen. Four of them, no more than dark, cowled shapes, each standing motionless as they watched the proceedings. Even from where you stood, you could feel something unnatural about them, something coldly malevolent, something intelligent, calculating, and hateful. These were no hunger-maddened ghouls or spirit-deadened Lebendtod. These were new servitors, new and cruel.

And then, there was Cavendish.

"Showtime," the Pact-Maker grinned.



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The corridors of the upper level were narrow and cramped, however luxuriously decorated. They were also dark as night, reminding you more now of the catacombs in Menentashte's Tomb or the tunnels beneath Hazlan. The music of unnatural orchestra sounded even here, filling your ears even as darkness filled your minds. You turned a corner, closing in on your destination. Here was the corridor that would opened onto the balconies, balconies from which one could rain down attacks on anything within the opera house. The only catch was that someone else had already had this idea.

James spotted you at about the same instant you realized the corridor was occupied, though only the accent let him be identified as the same person who had kneecapped Otto on a prior occasion. Now, James Blake was a true monster, his lean frame covered in coarse, rust-colored fur, his limbs longer and somehow exaggerated, his head that of a vicious jackal. His eyes, though, were the same golden eyes you had seen before, killer's eyes, and his voice, though harsher, still contained the same heavy accent as he swore.

"Bloody hell." James said, dropping to the ground in a flash. He wore dark clothing of an indeterminate hue, neither grey nor brown, but something that blended completely with the surroundings. He also had that Lamordian specialist's crossbow, now topped with a bayonet. From the ground, James fired off a full clip in your direction, the shots more haphazard than aimed, but still one ripped through Otto's shoulder.

"Bloody hell..." James swore again, even as he shoved a fresh clip of quarrels into his lethal little crossbow. "Why does nothing ever go according to the bleeding plan?"

James drops prone (+4 to AC vs. Ranged) and opens up a full-attack on Otto/Otto/Andre/Lia with Rapid Shot. Hits Otto once, dealing 31 damage.

(DC 15+1 per 10 feet of distance) Spot Check to notice James. At present locations, DC 21 for Otto, DC 22 for Lia and Andre. First Spot check is free, Move Action to retry if you fail.

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Cavendish snapped his pocket watch shut, smiling like a shark as he looked over you. He stood calmly, without worry, resting one hand on the twisted quarterstaff with which he had murdered Ulsaon, the other replacing the silver pocket watch into his jacket.

"I was starting to worry that you had gotten lost. I was just about ready to send Schrodinger off to find you." Cavendish said conversationally, just as though he'd met you in the street and not in the center of a ritual that could enslave a demon lord, and with him, the world. "It's been quite a trip, hasn't it?"

"And so, let me tip my hat to you, this one last time." John Lancaster Cavendish whipped off the ebon-black top hat off his own greasy, grey hair, and gave you a flamboyant bow. He looked up at you, still bowing, his serrated grin sharp. "Mrak! Tmya! Golodniye dukhi nochi! Slyshai moyu volyu!"

In heartbeats, out of the top-hat poured a liquid darkness, spilling forth as though from a fountain. It covered the hat, even as Cavendish threw it down and dodged back to the Eye of Anubis. It flowed over the stage, over the orchestra pit, and out into the auditorium. The green glow of the Ritual Circle grew faint, and the candles were extinguished in a moment.

"Save them if you can!" Cavendish laughed, as the darkness enveloped him.

There was a terrified whimper as the stage plunged into nothingness.

Cavendish casts Ravenous Darkness on his hat, then moves back. See below under Darkness for what Ravenous Darkness does.

DC 50 Spot Check (if you can see through at least Total Darkness) and DC 26 Listen Check for Kuzan, Charles, Tomas, and Sascha

Ravenous Darkness deals 4 damage.

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Victory Condition: Kill John Lancaster Cavendish within 40 feet of the Eye of Anubis OR kill or rout all enemies, regardless of location.

Loss Condition: If Tomas, Andre, Sascha, or Kuzan are killed within 40 feet of the Eye of Anubis OR you are all killed or routed, regardless of location.

Map Notes:

• Terrain: The seating area is Difficult Terrain.
  
  Elevation and Stairs: The Orchestra Pit is 5 feet below floor level. The Opera Stage is 10 feet above floor level. All balconies are 25 feet above floor level. Stairs cost double movement, and let you go up or down 5 feet per square of stairs passed.
  
  Chandelier: The white circle on the ground is the area directly below the big crystal chandelier. The actual chandelier is approximately 40 feet above the circle.
  
  Darkness: The Opera House is currently extremely dark, and so follow simplified Darkness rules.
  
  • Characters in Shadowy Darkness (the lightest kind) have Concealment, that is, attacks against them have a 20% miss chance. Shadowy Darkness is non-magical, and is pierced by Ebon Eyes, Darkvision, and True Seeing.
    
    Characters in Total Darkness (the medium kind) have Total Concealment, that is, attacks against them have a 50% miss chance and you don't know where they are (basically, they're invisible to you). Total Darkness is non-magical, and is pierced by Darkvision and True Seeing.
    
    Characters in Ravenous Darkness (the darkest kind, radiating 60 ft. from the bottom-left corner of H12) have Concealment, that is, attacks against them have a 20% miss chance, and furthermore, all creatures inside the Ravenous Darkness area take 1d6 negative energy damage per round, or 2d6 if they have been Energy Drained or Ability Damaged, with a DC 27 Fort Save to negate damage for that round. Ravenous Darkness is magical, and is pierced by True Seeing and Ebon Eyes.
  
  Multiple kinds of darkness overlap, so something that is inside both Ravenous Darkness and Total Darkness has Total Concealment and takes 1d6/2d6 Negative Energy damage each round.
  
  [HOUSE RULE] In the interests of reducing housekeeping, I am removing the range-limits on Darkvision and Ebon Eyes. Both of those are as far as your normal vision (subject to things like walls in the way). True Seeing is still capped at 120 ft., however (because it's a much more powerful ability)
  
  Exits: On the first floor, you can escape by reaching squares AI11/AI12/AI13. On the second floor, you can escape by reaching squares AM6/AM7 or squares AM17/AM18.
  
  Orchestra: So long as they continue to play, all Listen Checks are done at DC +10. Any Area Effect spell that deals at least 10 damage to each square of the orchestra pit silences them.

In interest of book-keeping, I'll be splitting up the HP and immediate status effects apart from the buffs. HP and status effects go here, buffs and some relevant book-keeping information go later (such as who has SR and who has Miss chances that you need to roll)

Kuzan: 120/96 HP
Charles: 92/68 HP
Tomas: 141/129 HP
Andre: 85/39 HP
Lia: 88/51 HP
Otto: 61/68 HP
Sascha: 120/108 HP

Carter: 81/57 HP
Dieter: 74/60 HP
Sarari: 82/70 HP

Hostage of Drama: 16/20 HP
Hostage of Dancing: 16/20 HP
Hostage of Song: 16/20 HP
Hostage of Music: 16/20 HP

John Lancaster Cavendish:
James Blake: Prone
Schrodinger:

Spell Wraith (Fire):
Spell Wraith (Cold):
Spell Wraith (Acid):
Spell Wraith (Electricity):

Buffs

Kuzan: Stalwart Pact, Mass Fly, True Seeing, Death Ward, Greater Resistance, Spell Immunity (Blindness/Deafness, Sound Lance, Spiritual Weapon), Good Hope, Hide From Undead (DC 17), Darkvision, Blur, Longstrider, Mass Bear's Endurance (+4 Con), Mass Conviction
Charles: Stalwart Pact, Mass Fly, Glibness, Good Hope, Hide From Undead (DC 17), Blur, Ventriloquism, Message, Mass Bear's Endurance (+4 Con), Mass Conviction, Resist Energy (Fire 10), Protection from Negative Energy [Scroll]
Tomas: Stalwart Pact, Mass Fly, Good Hope, Blur, Mass Bear's Endurance (+2 Con), Mass Conviction, Rhino Elixer, Eagle's Splendor, Protection from Negative Energy [Scroll]
Andre: Stalwart Pact, Mass Fly, Good Hope, Mass Bear's Endurance (+4 Con), Mass Conviction, Amulet of Tears, Protection from Negative Energy [Scroll]
Lia: Superior Resistance, Mass Fly, Stalwart Pact, Greater Mage Armor, Good Hope, See Invisibility, False Life, Expeditious Retreat, Shield, Mass Bear's Endurance (+4 Con), Contingent Energy Resistance [Scroll], Mass Conviction, Stoneskin [Scroll], Protection from Negative Energy [Scroll], Ebon Eyes [Scroll],
Grimmric: Imbue with Spell Ability
Otto: Stalwart Pact, Mass Fly, Good Hope, Mass Bear's Endurance (+4 Con), Mass Conviction, Protection from Negative Energy [Scroll]
Sascha: Stalwart Pact, Mass Fly, Death Ward [Scroll], Good Hope, Blur, Silverbeard, Mass Bear's Endurance (+2 Con), Mass Conviction
Carter: Stalwart Pact, Mass Fly, Death Ward [Scroll], Arcane Sight, Blur, Good Hope, Hide From Undead (DC 17), Owl's Wisdom, Mass Bear's Endurance (+4 Con), Mass Conviction
Dieter: Stalwart Pact, Mass Fly, Death Ward [Scroll], Good Hope, Mass Bear's Endurance (+4 Con), Mass Conviction
Sarari: Stalwart Pact, Mass Fly, Good Hope, Mass Bear's Endurance (+2 Con), Mass Conviction, Protection from Negative Energy [Scroll]

John Lancaster Cavendish: SR 24, Entropic Shield (20% Miss Chance vs. Ranged Attacks), Fortification (50% Chance to lose a Critical or Sneak attack), 23 Active Spells
James Blake: 13 Active Spells
Schrodinger: 4 Active Spells

Spell Wraith (Fire): Incorporeal (50% Miss Chance), 2 Active Spells
Spell Wraith (Cold): Incorporeal (50% Miss Chance), 2 Active Spells
Spell Wraith (Acid): Incorporeal (50% Miss Chance), 2 Active Spells
Spell Wraith (Electricity): Incorporeal (50% Miss Chance), 2 Active Spells

[Kaitou Kage]

"This is where it ends for you, fiend," Kuzan whispered. He gathered his own energy, holding his power in reserve, waiting for the precise moment to strike back against the monster's power.

Cavendish -- or the creature calling itself Cavendish -- was an abomination, a violation of the Cycle. Kuzan was not nominally a priest of Kali, but here he had a sacred duty to send Cavendish's soul to oblivion for his crimes. The man would never be reborn, he would never get a chance to atone for his crimes. He would be severed from the Cycle he violated and dwell in Kali's hells for eternity.

"There's something up there," the priest said aloud, "Something near the stage, to the left. A hum..."

Readying a Counterspell action, pending a move action depending on what other PCs do.

[Nathan of the FoS]

As the doors open and the darkness within is revealed, Charles whispers a final word. "Celeritas."

The group feels themselves buoyed by his invocation, lending them an extra measure of energy and motion as they leap forward into the darkness. Charles himself follows Tomas and Sascha into the main hall, blinking as his eyes adjust to the darkness.

"Showtime indeed," he mutters. "Aux armes, mes braves!" His shout fills the hall.

Casting haste just as we go through the doors. Move action to get the ol' everburning torch out--torch in the left hand, rapier in the right, forward march!

[DocBeard]

Nrgh, Tomas thinks, I knew I should've gone after that true seeing monocle! At least he has a torch.

Squinting in the enchanted light, Tomas calls out to his arch-foe. "You can't just fight me straight, can you dead man?! Hiding behind shadows or hostages or whatever things you cobble together in your workshop...you're just slowing me down!"

(OOC: Divine Weapon. Moving to AA13.)

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Lia frowns behind her mask when Otto is shot -- again -- and she takes off her gloves and brings out one more scroll. "Proprietas gloriosa tigris," she whispers quietly, weaving the magic through herself. And as the scroll crumbles to dust, she ... changes.

Lia's frame expands as her muscle builds and swells. Her mask bulges and falls away as the very shape of her face changes and her hair grows. It grows all over her body, which seems to actually become a few inches taller. The mage stretches her hands, and her fingernails, never dainty painted lady's nails, are grown thick, black and curved.

What stands at Otto's and Andre's back resembles nothing so much as a fairly large, upright blend of human and tiger. Snowy white fur, striped with black, covers an abruptly elegant body. Scarlet eyes glitter from its face as the creature bares strong, sharp teeth and snarls quietly at the jackalwere.

"Kill the abomination," it advises Andre and Otto in Lia's voice, and her eyes glitter angrily even as she takes a step back around the corner.

(OOC: Casting Bite of the Weretiger from a scroll, moving to AL 21 to be out of the lone gunwerejackal's line of sight.)

[NeoTiamat]

Mid-Battle Map Update! Because of all the torches going on, figured this would be important. Also has a darkness key.

The little red dots are torches/dancing lights.