HLoM: The Firebird, Chapter 2

[Nathan of the FoS]

]

The archon's light reveals the young man to be a dark blonde; the tartan he wears is not immediately recognizable and may not represent any specific clan at all. He speaks again, in a low, choked voice:

"She should have died hereafter; then there would have been time for such a word. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow creep in their petty pace from day to day, down to the last syllable of recorded time, and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out. Out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player who struts and frets his hour on the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot--full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

A pause, and then, quiet and bitter: "Oh gods! Such mockery is more than I can bear. Having made me evil, shall you punish me when I cannot learn goodness? Is there no end, no escape to torment?"

Suddenly, the young man leaps to his feet and turns to you, his eyes wild and his face distorted--and not only by emotion. Black, swollen veins cross his face and show at his wrists and calves; his eyes are blood-red and his mouth, a mouth filled with inhuman fangs, is twisted into a rictus of agony.

"Who are you, to disturb me here?" he howls. "Flee or die!"

[Nathan of the FoS]

Brangain's room is in a state of disarray--it appears to have been searched recently. Questioning of Isolt about this reveals that she attempted to make a search of the room for any clue to her daughter's disappearance, but was interrupted by the appearance of her husband. The young woman's scent is not strong, it having been some three weeks since her disappearance, but Ushka can make it out. Whether she'll be able to find it in a place where it's not so distinct is another question.

"All right," Renhalt whispers. "From what we know from Lady Isolt, if her daughter is being held by her husband it's likely to be somewhere in or near the castle. The simplest place for secret chambers of any size is underground. We know there's a cell block down there, so I think that's the place to start."

You can't follow Brangain's scent from here (the DC is 500-ish by the RAW), but it may well be useful in the future.



Marcel shakes himself and gives Avram a searching look, but says only, "Good evening, gudman. Quite a view, isn't it?"

Craig's attention remains on Lena. "Your fox? A clever little thing. I'm not surprised. Gilan loved…he loved dogs." The laird smiles weakly, tears standing in his eyes. "He had a great favorite, Petitcreu--not much more than a lapdog, really. Quite the faithful companion, although he'd bark at anything that moved. Did he…my son…did he speak to you?"


The Laird is doing his best to hide his grief, but you perceive that he hasn't really gotten over his son's death. He's curious, verging on suspicious, about your presence here, and perplexed by your having seen his son's ghost. His actions and reactions are consistent with his emotional state. No further questions may be asked at present.

[NeoTiamat]

Ushka sniffed about the room, periodically lifting a front paw to bat at something in an indication for an opposable-thumb-equipped individual to manipulate it. Eventually, the small fox was satisfied. She returned to Cattia and wiggled her ears. Ready to go! There was something about leading a whole platoon of tall humans around that amused the familiar.



"He said... that he was looking for his dog. For Petitcreu. And that he was desperate to find him." Lena said quietly, looking sadly at the Laird. "He was very polite. A trifle frightened at our numbers, but happy enough to pet Ushka. He... He did not seem unhappy to me." Lena said after a moment. "I am sorry."

[Isabella]

The sight of Richard drawing his sword was hidden behind the walls of Vasili's illusion. "Who are you, who-who grieves so deeply for the Lady of this place, who loved her and-and weeps so bitterly for her?" Richard asked, in reply.

[DeepShadow of FoS]

Vasili pours the billowing vapors into the gap, making sure Tara is covered. With the archon out front and everyone obscured by heavy mist, all the enraged young man(?) should see is a light and lots of fog. Since his words suggest recognized the archon as divine, it seemed prudent to speak from that perspective. Using his whisper-magic to speak through the archon, he appeals to the young man to stay his wrath.

"We come neither to mock or punish your grief, but to share it. The lady you lost was dear to us, and we seek a final boon from her. Perhaps that boon contains your own salvation as well. Come now, and let us reason together. Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as wool."

Vasili chides himself inwardly for the awkward paraphrase of Ezra's doctrine, but it was the only line of scripture he could think of that applied, having had small snatches of the Second Book come to mind since meeting up with Richard, and now Tara. He doubted that the Lawgiver had anything more appropriate, at any rate.

Ready action to create shadowy humanoid figures within the fog if he moves to attack. It's not quite as good as mirror image, but it might help a little.

[Revka et al]

Cattia scoops up the fox and heads down to the dungeon with her picks ready. As Ushka sniffs around the opened sections of the dungeon looking for some sign of the girl, Cattia searches the walls for some sign of a secret chamber where such a prisoner might be kept.

Perception +10
[dice]0[/dice]

[The Whistler]

"Good evening, gudman. Quite a view, isn't it?"

"Quite one, yes. I see this, and it speaks of home to me -- in a mountain town like my own, one is used to cliffs. Of course, in Damar, one does not view them from the tallest tower of a castle...which is why this also speaks to me of how far away we are from home."

Avram silently acknowledged Marcel's gaze, glancing momentarily towards the Laird and back. "Ah, well. At least we can be assured of hospitality, here." Not in front of Craig. I'll explain later.

[Nathan of the FoS]

]

"Rual...is this some trick of yours?" the young man replies, curious despite himself but far from friendly; he all but ignores the archon, peering into the fog in an apparent attempt to discern who else has spoken to him. "You shall get no boon from me, and no forgiveness either. And if you have coerced some poor fool into doing your bidding, as it seems you may--know, villain, that I am the master of this place, and my patience is short. You have been told to leave me to mourn my dead. You will get no second warning."

He crosses his arms across his chest, his expression grim.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Is Cattia invisible, or is this a different spell? I can't remember what the Queen of the Night is for, exactly.

Avoiding the servants is not difficult; making your way downstairs is hardly more so. The same door which barred your way before does so again; the lock is newer and more easily managed at this time. Your search of the passageway leading to the torture chamber reveals a secret door; a moment's work more opens it, and you step through to find another hallway, totally without light. Ushka's nose informs her that the laird has passed this way some time in the past few hours.

Hurrying forward, you turn a corner and come to a door--also locked--and a pair of indentations in the wall at eye level, which prove to look into the torture chamber. The scent of the laird has abruptly gone cold.



"I see," the laird replies heavily in response to Lena's recounting of your encounter with his son, turning away to look over the lake in silence for a few moments. He turns back to Avram and Marcel and says, "Well! Hospitality you shall have, indeed, at the very least. Unfortunately I must retire early, and I have some business to transact before I sleep. Shall we go down? I can return you to my wife, if you like. "

Suiting deeds to words, he ushers you downstairs.

Sense Motive DC 35 (yes, I know) for more information here.

[NeoTiamat]

Ushka, being a fox, could not frown dubiously. But she wiggled her ears and placed her nose to the ground once Cattia had put her down. There was something odd here. Now, where exactly had the Laird's scent vanished? Because chances were excellent that there was going to be a secret door somewhere around there.

Perception +21
[dice]0[/dice]



How very strange. And sudden. Lena cast a glance at the direction of the sun, but for Craig ApBlanc she had only a lovely smile. "If your lady wife is still willing to bear with us, then I would love to speak with her."

And I can ask her about what sudden business you transact before sundown?

[Nerit]

Nuray tsked impatiently and nocked an arrow in her bow. "We are not part of your aristocratic tragedies!" she spat. She could see the foggy illusion from Vasili covering them, or what she assumed was an illusion, but it didn't keep her from eyeing the threatening man keenly. She had seen those fangs, and the black, diseased veins. This man...was he marked? Cursed?

"Priestess," Nuray nodded her head toward Tara while she pointed her bow at the man, "are we any closer to our goal? I am sore tired of distractions."

Detect Alignment (Evil, Weirdness, What-Have-You)

[Isabella]

"Your appearance belies your-belies your words, good sir!" Richard replied. Having decided the illusion seemed to have no effect on the thing before them, Richard stepped out of it, holding up a small steel mirror to confront the ghost - and wondering if he would even reflect. "I-I-I have seen the Laird of this place, and he was a man of-of many more years. Who are you?"

[DeepShadow of FoS]

"Rual...is this some trick of yours?" the young man replies, curious despite himself but far from friendly; he all but ignores the archon, peering into the fog in an apparent attempt to discern who else has spoken to him.

"Rual is not among us," the archon replies, "and the trickery of the fog is merely intended to prevent violence."

"You shall get no boon from me, and no forgiveness either. And if you have coerced some poor fool into doing your bidding, as it seems you may--know, villain, that I am the master of this place, and my patience is short. You have been told to leave me to mourn my dead. You will get no second warning."

"We have also come to mourn Isolt ApBlanc's early departure from this world. She was dear to us, and a final token of her graciousness and generosity was entombed with her. That is the boon that we speak of, which may hold your forgiveness."

"Your appearance belies your-belies your words, good sir!" Richard replied. Having decided the illusion seemed to have no effect on the thing before them, Richard stepped out of it, holding up a small steel mirror to confront the ghost - and wondering if he would even reflect. "I-I-I have seen the Laird of this place, and he was a man of-of many more years. Who are you?"

Vasili grimaces as Richard steps out of the fog, but does not extend it around him. There would be time for that later. Perhaps now having a face to a voice, the young man would be less intransigent.

"If you are indeed the master of this place, then we implore you for a measure of hospitality. Allow us to grieve, and to retrieve the emblem of which we speak, that we may depart in peace."

Still holding that action, only now including wrapping the fog around Richard again.

[Nathan of the FoS]

]

Detect Evil reveals that this spirit is by far the greatest evil you have ever encountered--so much so that it differs not only in magnitude but in quality from anything you've experienced in the past.


"The dead do not count their years," the spirit replies to Richard, haughty and cold. "I am Tristen Ap Blanc, Laird of this hall and of this land, and you have tried my patience long enough." The young man's face twitches as he continues to speak, his voice slowly rising in volume and pitch as his words come faster. "You strangers come in fog and shadow at the very witching hour of night, unannounced and uninvited, shall not kneel at this tomb and partake of my grief. If you will not depart you shall surely die."

As he finishes he throws back his head and keens, a terrible, musical cry of grief and sorrow and terror that cuts to the heart.

DC 25 Will save or be panicked for 2d4 rounds. This is a fear effect, so everyone gets a +4 to the save from Richard's aura of courage and Richard himself is immune. Rojan and Tara fail the save and flee. Cheer up! In 2e this was a "save or die" effect.

[Isabella]

"I-I-I cannot leave," Richard said, stashing the mirror as he took his sword in both hands. "Nor do I-I fear you! I bid thee yield!"

His voice raised to a shout on the final word, the Mordentishman spring forward, his eyes flashing silver. His blade arced across the ghost's neck in a single, smooth motion, a vicious strike that could have taken a living man's head straight from his shoulders.

SMITE. EVIL!
[dice]0[/dice]
[dice]1[/dice]
[dice]2[/dice]
Pft. 2+6+6+13 = 27 damage to the ghost
Using Step Up if he 5-foots away.
AC 25 (21+4 smite evil), Flat Footed 24 (20+4), Touch 15 (11+4), CMD 25 (21+4)(27 vs Sunder)
HP 43, Fort +11, Refl +8, Will +13