HLoM: The Firebird, Chapter 2

[Isabella]

Richard's first reaction was to put his hand to his sword hilt, taking an instinctive step back so he could twist to look behind him, and search for any signs that Marcel might be here.

[NeoTiamat]

The Barovian winced at the sudden shift -- she was not going to get used to these -- and then frowned as the noise transformed itself into something she recognized and could comprehend. She'd had a very good education.

"Those would be... Forfarian war-pipes, playing the Calling of the Clans, to gather the clans of Forfar for war." Lena said. That little bit of music had been illegal in Barovia for at least a century (the Barovians were fond of their Forfarian warriors, but only when they were pointed somewhere else). Of course, Lena was not one to trifle with such things, especially not when she had been at the University of Dementlieu. "Except war-pipes haven't been used since the Time of Troubles, two hundred years ago. And they take years to learn, yet whoever is playing this is a master player."

"I suspect we've another ghost on our hands." Lena said quietly, tilting her head. "This is much too complex to be goblyn-work and goblyn-playing."

"Also, Ushka's found something." Lena said, closing her eyes now to try and concentrate on the emotions. "Somewhere in here..."



Ushka sat back on her haunches and gave the man a proud look. I am a familiar, not a pet. The distinction was an important one to the little fox. My mistress is the Baroness Elena von Zarovich, of Barovia, and a powerful sorceress. This was not strictly accurate, but Ushka pressed on regardless. She considered for a moment, and decided that the captive druid or priest was probably trusthworthy. She's here in this place with allies from Hazlan -- wizards and priests and armed men.

There was a pause as Ushka considered. What to do, what to do... finding her mistress wouldn't be too hard. Ushka was fast and she had a good nose.

I can carry her a message. Ushka said after a moment. And bring her back. Or if you know where there is a key, I can fetch the key and we can both go to her.

[Nerit]

Nuray looked askance at Altan, but of course said nothing to her superior. He was brave, if not arrogant, and skilled, if not unorthodox.

She followed the others down into the crypt. "Yes," she agreed with Lena, "shouldn't we move on?"

Pity the nobleman later, let the dead rest.

Nuray shuffled past Rojan, evidently ignoring him for the time being.

*************************

"Oh, ash and splinters--" Nuray recoiled as all shifted around them again, too startled not to curse. She put her hands to her ears and made a very, very unhappy face. Apparently, she was not one for sheep's bladder music.

"Is your fox nearby...in the same...time?" Nuray managed, probably too loudly, at Lena.

[Nathan of the FoS]

"The calling of the clans?" Renhalt repeats. "I don't like that at all. Could it be a signal to the goblyns to return?"

"So let's be quick," Tara replies. "On to the next."

The door to this tomb requires a few minutes' struggle to open on its rusted hinges, but swings wide at last to reveal a tomb similar to Morholt's, but with the mural behind the coffin depicting Gilan ApBlanc as an angel-faced boy of twelve or so carrying a small brown dog in his arms, very much as he appeared to you in the courtyard two hours ago but (of course) without the terrible wounds on his arms and hands.

The wail of the war pipes continues as you enter.

[Nathan of the FoS]

"I cry your pardon, little sister," the druid says. "A familiar, and to a Baroness von Zarovich! I am honored." There is just a hint of teasing in his tone. "I believe there may be a key ring at the far end of this passage, but I'm not sure you'll find anything. The goblyns may have taken them when they left."

This seems, in fact, to be the case; there is a hook for a key ring in the indicated place, but no keys. Worse yet, Ushka's attempt to pass through the torture chamber to the upper levels of the fortress is stymied by the door leading out of the torture chamber being closed and secured somehow--possibly by a bar on the other side.

[NeoTiamat]

"Possible... but who would be summoning the goblyns?" Lena said, tensing. She really did not fancy the prospect of being under siege by scores of lunatic, inhuman barbarians. Setting aside the fact that she didn't fancy running away while invisible, being stuck in Forlorn on her own, and leaving everyone else to die, it just seemed like a silly way to go. Then a thought occurred. "It occurs to me, gentlemen, ladies, that we are in a castle. Renhalt, Rojan, come with me. Let's get the gates closed and the drawbridge up."

She paused at the tomb, nodding once as she fingered the amulet of the Morninglord on her neck. "I'll return, Gilan. We apologize for this intrusion." Then she was off.



Ushka said several things in Fox that were not fit for polite company. They involved badgers' mothers, mostly. She was stuck in here, and there was no way out other than to wait for a time shift, and who knew when that would happen. Still... there was sunlight. It was coming from a crack in the wall between the torture chamber and the block of cells, and so the fox scurried over there. Several seconds of wriggling and minus a few patches of fur later, Ushka was outside.

And looking out over a three hundred foot drop, on the outside of the castle. Ushka looked down. There was a narrow ledge. There was also a really long way down. New plan. She sat back on her haunches, lifted her muzzle to the air, and screamed over the sound of the dronepipes.

[Isabella]

"It occurs to me, gentlemen, ladies, that we are in a castle. Renhalt, Rojan, come with me. Let's get the gates closed and the drawbridge up."

"We should likely all-all come with you, Baroness, we cannot afford to-to lose any more of us to these phantoms. Any time gained from-from splitting up will be lost-lost tenfold trying to hunt each other down again," Richard said quietly. "have-have you any paper? I-I-I am loathe to leave a trail by which these creatures can find us, but I-I-I am at a loss how else we might ever-ever find Marcel again..."

[NeoTiamat]

"A point, though I think we had best be quick about it." Lena said. She paused for a moment, then drew something else out of an interior pocket of her dress. A long piece of colored, blood-red chalk. "This may do better than paper, in fact. Let me see..."

The Barovian selected a part of the tombs' wall that was both visible from a distance, yet under an eave so that the chalk would not wash away too quickly should a sudden rainstorm strike. "Marcel speaks Mordentish, I think? I can leave a message in that language to keep the locals from reading it -- tell him to meet us in the courtyard of the contemporary era, if it is possible?"

[Isabella]

"He-he does, and yes. If-if not to courtyard, out-outside the castle, if it safe. These phantoms shouldn't follow," Richard replied. "That, that probably goes for all of us. But as-as you say, write it quickly, and let us be off quickly."

[NeoTiamat]

Lena nodded, and in quick lines of bright red chalk, she wrote on the wall. Marcel, if you find this, wait for us in the courtyard of the modern. If it seems safe, go outside the castle, the ghosts shouldn't follow you there.

"There. That looks satisfactory. Now, let's be off."

[Nathan of the FoS]

A brief expedition to the barbican shows that the mechanism of the portcullis is in such amazingly bad condition that closing it may well mean it can't be opened again. The drawbridge repaired by Renhalt is in a much better state; raising it means that any intruder will have to scale at least twenty-five feet to reach a breach in the castle wall wide enough for a man to pass through, and raising it goes smoothly. The war-pipes continue their dismal wail for ten minutes or so before falling silent.

The echoing stillness left behind is punctuated by the scream of a fox-vixen somewhere fairly near at hand. After a puzzled moment, Rojan, standing beneath the oak, raises his hand and points at the tower.

"Round t'other side of tower?" he says, looking slightly confused. "Sounds like it's in the open air, I think."

[NeoTiamat]

Lena had been in the process of finishing another chalk scrawling on the gatehouse when the dronepipes finally finished, and when Ushka's screech pierced the air. At this point Lena did something passingly strange. She cleared her throat, tilted her head back, and barked into the air, a series of disturbingly fox-like yips. Another howl came her way.

"Right gentlemen, we've handled one dilemma, but there's another one. Ushka's found someone, someone alive, in the cell-block. A druid, imprisoned by the goblyns. But she's locked in, the door is barred perhaps, and she's found only a crack in the wall." Lena said crisply, almost as if she hadn't just made the most bizarre noises. "I would very much appreciate it if we could proceed to rescue the prisoner and retrieve my familiar."



With the air of one well-satisfied by her achievements, Ushka skulked back through the hole and scurried back to the druid. Mistress heard! She is coming! She crowed, proud as can be.

[Nerit]

"So the goblyns are afoot after all," Nuray grimaced. This hadn't been quite the excursion she'd expected. She pulled out her bow to ready herself. "You will have to lead us there, Freyn."

[The Whistler]

“Yes — and together.” The hetman shifted uncomfortably; the constant change of scenery was bad enough, but there was even less recourse for an old man lost in time than for some of the others in his party. Granted, Avram could take care of himself, but still…

“It is said that every man bears his own chains — whether those of duty, or of conscience, or of heaven’s Law. In this case, it is rather more literal, yes? Lead on, Freyin von Zarovich; lead on.”

[Nathan of the FoS]

"So, we have to go...in and down, I suppose?" Renhalt says. "I suppose we can take some information from the way that Avard left the hall over there--maybe straight in through the double doors here, and then look for a way down?"

"Summat smells nice," Rojan remarks, apropos of nothing. "Roast lamb."

"I don't smell anything," Renhalt replies, giving the ranger an odd look. Rojan shrugs.

"I'd like to look in these two tombs here before we go any further," Tara says quietly but urgently. "If we can find the Shield everything else will become much simpler."