Dark Days in Sion - Act 3: Scene 1

narayan said:

The dwarves look at each other with something akin to amusement and barely withheld judgement.

Sundered Dwarf 2: "We'll do that... but if we don't find him, we'll come back looking for you."

He says with a not-so-veiled threat. Together, the pair turn and make their way back into the alleys. As they walk away you overhear the bear-voiced one make a comment.

Sundered Dwarf 1: -Snorts- "What a weak elf."

Sundered Dwarf 2: -Chuckles- "Is there any other kind?"

[Aust: What do you do?]

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Aust Thale:
~Not as weak as you think, my itinerant dwarves.~

Shaking his head quietly in the dark at the dwarven couple, Thale quietly continues his unpleasant task of disposing of the girl's body. The general gruffness of sundered dwarves was endemic; however, haughtiness in their kind could be as amusing as threatening. Elves were so much more able and willing to deliver withering insults. And this pair were either obtuse or slow; no matter, hopefully, they would be slow to encounter their quarry.

Moving back into the building that Jabbar and he shared, he laid the body gently on the floor next to several other bundles and stealthily fetched the wheelbarrow. He carefully placed the body into the wheelbarrow, placing another bag of refuse in with it. Yes, this would be worth the delay. He made for the sewers quietly but with haste. With any luck, he wouldn't run into any other night-owls.

Thale knew the challenges and risks associated with doing business in this place. Public order was a function of fear. Of the guards. Of the guilds. Of the Vul. They were the proverbial boogeymen. Rarely seen, and if seen, it was nearly always carnage. Having killed a were-rat might not rate as particularly dire; this wasn't a were-rat, though. This was a girl. Whatever serious mischief Jabbar and Avar were into, they weren't toting a dead girl to the sewer. He'd worry about them later. His "adventures", if one would call that, with Jabbar occasionally involved this kind of unpleasantness. However, he recalled only one other time he felt the wet-blanket feel of evil on what otherwise would have been a pleasant night.

He scanned the darkness with his infravision. Short of the undead and reptiles, he'd notice any creature before reaching him, shifting into the darkness and making himself look small before they would notice. Between his knowledge of the area and smuggling tricks, he'd make short work of this nasty task and move on to find Jabbar and Avar to explain before they came back.

Kryslogious of Anasteria

"My lord Kryslogious! You have returned exactly as foretold! Everything is going to plan, your brothers from Chival have already landed their fleet! I am Saraesh Hussayn, spy-master of the Aluja Expanse. In the name of the true lord, the demon-king Herod, I welcome you!"

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There was an eerie pause as the flames lapped about breaking the silence. Moments seemed to drag as the two figures stood silently facing each other, Saraesh awaiting his reply. Kryslogious was shaken by his words, his self internalized fear of his past was quickly coming to fruit. He stood rigid and emotionless, then suddenly a thud rang as his shield dropped to the ground. he raised his arm slowly to the back of his helm and unlatched and removed it slowly revealing his young unmarked face. He turned his head to the side talking to his cohorts behind him.

"Ill be back for my crossbow, use it well my friend." he said referencing Alic. "Sir, ask your trust in me." referencing Wrenwil

he looked back to Saraesh and replied.

"Show me... we talk along the way..."

He picked up his shield and flung the helm back on his head.

"lets go"

He needed answers, about himself and about what he feared was plaguing this world in his name.

Avar, Billanverthorne, Burrai, Elloral, Ersun, Jabbar, Ren

Ersun & Ren_______________________________________________

Ersun said:

Ersun quickly follows Ren's note on the guards with his attention, although he still feels a little slow. There is so much new to process and filter out in this new environment, its hard to know where to put his focus sometimes. He can't help but feel somewhat flustered by it. He likes to think himself steadfast, yet he is out of his zone of comfort, he must foster caution, yet balance it not to sway into timidity.

He nods to Ren and whispers:
"I see. I will be careful." and with that follows him. He is somewhat nervous about having to sneak around, as even though his kind is renowned for its camouflage, he's never been one to exercise their sneaking prowess. There are so many things do to, and it is a hassle... but he stops himself form making excuses. Whatever he thinks, the fact is it would be most useful to be adept at it in this situation.

Nevertheless he quietly follows Ren in the darkness.

[Wisdom check: 12; -2 on further attentive checks here]
[Hide check: 25]
[Move silently check: 20]

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Together you make your way past the guards and the sleeping farmhouses descending towards the streets below. Suddenly a light rain begins to drizzle from the spread of low black clouds above, making tingles across your scalp as you look up in awe. ~So this is rain!~ You think to yourself, experiencing the touch of it against your face like tears... For a moment you close your eyes and savor the experience before a deep, churning rumble echoes across the sky ~Thunder!~ ...which increases in volume as the raindrops get bigger... plopping against the earth around you and pattering over rooftops with increasing weight and frequency; settling into an underlying natural rhythm akin to music.

Ren looks back at you with curiosity as if he's thinking ~has he never seen rain before?~ before he urges you to hurry.

Ren: "Come-come! Hurry!" He says, leading you down into the streets as late-night stragglers are hurrying indoors. "We will check Putyuk's first where I saw him last. Then we will go to his shop if need be." He says matter-of-factly.

Slinking through alleyways now, darting beneath awnings, the rain continues to wetten the earth making it slick and muddy prompting sucking/plooshing noises beneath your footsteps. Ren however pays it no need continuing to move as silent as a mouse.

Ren: "There it is!" he speaks pointing at a large two-story structure beneath the lee of the thick outer wall. Smoke curls from its three chimneys as light spills onto the street from several windows out front, but not the back alley. "Follow my lead, and don't do anything rash!" Ren says with amusing edge of steel in his squeaky voice.

Ren: (Move Silently Check: =11)(Hide Check: =11)

[Ersun: What do you do? Make Move Silently & Hide checks as you approach Putyuk's]
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Avar, Billanverthorne, Burrai, Elloral, Jabbar_____________________

Burrai Steelborn said:

Burrai made a show of looking around. "Jabbar. I don't know how much is safe to say out here, even though it appears clear. Elloral here has acquired an...artifact that is far darker than her pure noble soul should be carrying. This ambush our friend here was describing is the second attempt on our lives in a day, and Elloral is right that we've got enemies creeping out of every crack at the moment. I'm hoping you might be able to help us with a..." he considered the most prudent word to use that might dissemble should anyone overhear, but convey his need. "...an explanation as to it's origins and uses. So if you have somewhere we can do some private business, I'll pay a generous rate for your expertise."

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As you speak the clouds respond with looming thunder and rain, promising a very wet and stormy night.

Jabbar: Regards Burrai for a few heartbeats before he speaks, shrewdly pondering the meaning behind this 'ask' as any good smuggler will do before entering business negotiations. "If advice is all your after sir dwarf, I'll gladly tell you this for free... Whatever she carries isn't worth the trouble unless trouble is what your looking for."

Elloral: Smirks. "A clever question hidden in a statement. You want to know what we hope to gain from this and why we seek it in the first place?"

Jabbar: Nods slowly. "The true value of anything is dependent on the needs of its keeper is it not? Every smuggler knows this."

Elloral: "We aren't asking your cursed opinion on its value you oaf!"

Jabbar: "Yes... you are." He calmly retorts with emphasis. "The value of a thing is its purpose, and its purpose is its value."

Elloral: Rolls her eyes. "We have no time for this!" She exclaims.

Jabbar: Holds up his hands apologetically. "I do not mean to insult your intelligence. I am only attempting to ascertain the perceived value of this 'artifact' before I decide my fee for examining it in the first place."

Elloral: Glares. "Nonsense! Your fishing for information! I warn you we are in no mood for games!"

Jabbar: Crosses his arms, waiting a tick before he explains himself. "Avar told me you were both 'spooked' and I can see for myself he wasn't wrong. I only agreed to meet because I was curious about that. It's obvious to me now this 'artifact' you possess has cutthroats like Kong coming after you to reclaim it. So its stolen... ok-so-what? Obviously men in my trade don't stay in business if we shirk from stolen goods."

"You're correct of course it is information I'm after. What interests me is who you stole this 'artifact' from and why they want it back? Agree to be honest with me about that, and I'll be happy to evaluate its origins and uses... deal?"

Elloral: Huffs "Be careful what you wish for! Information like that can ensure you end up another victim, or worse yet, another liability!"

Jabbar: Traces a finger down his scar. "Your concern for my well-being is touching but I'll take my chances. Of course I guard the identity of my clients with my life. No one will get your names from me I swear it!"

[Billanverthorne, Burrai: What do you do?]

Alic, Bax, Ordechai, Wrenwil

Kryslogious said:

There was an eerie pause as the flames lapped about breaking the silence. Moments seemed to drag as the two figures stood silently facing each other, Saraesh awaiting his reply. Kryslogious was shaken by his words, his self internalized fear of his past was quickly coming to fruit. He stood rigid and emotionless, then suddenly a thud rang as his shield dropped to the ground. he raised his arm slowly to the back of his helm and unlatched and removed it slowly revealing his young unmarked face. He turned his head to the side talking to his cohorts behind him.

"Ill be back for my crossbow, use it well my friend." he said referencing Alic. "Sir, ask your trust in me." referencing Wrenwil

he looked back to Saraesh and replied.

"Show me... we talk along the way..."

He picked up his shield and flung the helm back on his head.

"lets go"

He needed answers, about himself and about what he feared was plaguing this world in his name.

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Alic and Ordechai both watch Kryslogious walk away with Saraesh in horror and disbelief, yet only Ordechai and Wrenwil actually heard what what was said between them.

Alic: -exclaims- "What the hell is he doing?!"

Ordechai: Looks to Wrenwil with a look reserved for enemies, not friends, as he simply demands. "Wrenwil... explain."

[Wrenwil: What do you do?]

Wrenwil: Judgement

narayan said:

Alic: -exclaims- "What the hell is he doing?!"

Ordechai: Looks to Wrenwil with a look reserved for enemies, not friends, as he simply demands. "Wrenwil... explain."

[Wrenwil: What do you do?]

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The old cleric tightened and soured as the arse-breathed twist wrenched at his gut. Wrenwil's face wrinkled like a fast-drying prune, a crushing cocktail of fear, regret, temptation to violence, and strangely... trust, showing on his face for all to see.

It was somewhat ironic that he started the explanation with "my friends, calm yourselves... don't let your nerves cloak the light betwixt the foul darkness..."

He took a moment to spit, a deliberate and honest attempt to dislodge some soot-filled air from his weary lungs. Hand crossbow lowered, Wrenwil pointedly proceeded to thrust the butt of his staff against the treachered soil at their feet, a frustrated, angry and reflex motion that spoke without words of his simmering hate and struggle with restraint.

Staring into the licking flames, he did his best to shed light on it all, though much of it was purely joining dots and the birth of some future "plan".

"Alic, Ordechai, my brave friends, do not scold me so! I am as torn and bitter as any man with this vile corruption in our sight. Mark my words. My people, the Chivalans, over centuries gone by have shed blood, the lives of young and old alike, reunited, to cleanse our lands of the dark filth of Herod's conspirators. Yes Alic, the man who bowed before our Knight confessed openly of connection to such sick and violent becomings. On any other day, in any other place, I would have sold my life for but one chance to drag a blade against that stranger's throat. Yet right here... right now, it takes all my strength not to charge, to pummel that filth back to hell."

He turned to his colleagues in turn, first Alic, then Ordechai.

"But! Failed is the man who does not think before action, who does not peer more than one moment ahead."

"Have we not learned that a man is to be judged on his now, his merits, and not the circumstance of inescapable past?"

Wrenwil maintained his solemn eye contact with Ordechai.

"I speak of the Knight of course. In some previous life he was perhaps some figurehead or admirable beast to these evil wretches. I trust our knight to remain true and good, and through using this most intriguing influence he appears to hold, no doubt he will prod and probe that scum's mind and memories for clues, for information, for anything that will shed light on what... or how... we can unite and end this eternal buggery once and for all."

"I swear to Pentos my God, and you my friends, that should Kryslogious' faith sway, we will end him. And once we have squeezed every last drop from that foul adversary, his end, I beg you now, will be mine to enact, swiftly and devoid of mercy. That stranger, unlike you Ordechai, is not fit nor worthy of trial. He confessed to the ultimate sin, and only one fate becomes him."

Wrenwil ran his eyes over the burning camp, knuckles turning white as he gripped the butt of his staff angrily and hard. He hoped deeply that the words rang true.

"Let us not debate this in full, not yet. I must return to my tent for my pack, and then together, we will search these burning ruins for clues before I dig hole besides hole to bury the dead."

~The Tome! I must never let it leave my grip. Never, never.~

[Wrenwil intends to retrieve his pack from the tent, and then search the murderous site. I won't roll anything yet as Alic and Ordechai probably need to react first.]

[sblock=Wrenwil Stats]
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Aletia, Kayote, Rhea

97mg said:

So it wasn't entirely her place after all. Of course there would be more than one by the Burlock name. Aletia was somewhat relieved at the news. Vallio's trust and faith was held in another, older, wiser and less trumped-up soul, or so she hoped. None the less, her presumption and willingness to act before thinking left her feeling somewhat embarrassed. Yes, Aletia was bright and quick of mind, but her wisdom was somewhat lacking, and charm and a pretty face were never made to cut through situations such as this.

~There I go again, making a fool of myself. It's time to grow up Aletia. Snap out of it! Tis time for dignity and grace.~

The young elf softly sighed and returned a more friendly expression as Rhea spoke. She looked up to her attentively, absorbing each and every word, and finding some comfort within the facts. They knew Vallio's mount by sight. That indicated that these folk must have spent substantial time with him in years gone by.

Aletia gently took Rhea's hand into her own, giving it a soft comforting squeeze, a symbol of understanding and means not to cause ill.

"Dear Rhea Burlock, it is I who apologize for causing you such concern and for not making myself, and this news known to you earlier. I am also most sorry to hear of your father's suffering."

~Even the seemingly most perfect ruby encrusted lives carry dark weight.~

"I am honored that you would let me speak with him and softly deliver this news. Vallio brought us here, into your foreign lands to meet him, and to complete this wish is something I deeply desire to do..."

She squeezed the woman's hand a little again.

"... together... if you wish? Let me know when your kind father, friend of Vallio, is ready to receive me, and I promise to treat this with the respect it deserves."

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Rhea: Nods. "Thank you, be warned, my father isn't especially gracious these days." She says, leading you past the bar to a set of double-doors adjacent to the back doors. (The bouncer that intercepted you is usually posted here) The doors open into a meeting room with a long table that seats six and a stairwell that leads up. (The bouncer that intercepted you waits at the bottom of the stairs as you follow Rhea up) At the top of the stairs is a lantern in a sconce illuminating three doors. Rhea pauses, sighs, and knocks at the door immediately to the right.

Moments pass before a hoarse and gravely voice barks through the door.

Mr. Burlock: "Yes?"

Rhea: "It's me father. A friend of Vallio's is here to see you."

The door opens revealing an elderly Barossan male with a generally sallowish and scruffy appearance.

Mr. Burlock peers past his daughter to stare at the newcomer. You estimate his age to be mid-sixties. His eyes are bright blue in the Barossan fashion, but none too kind, glaring beneath bushy, white-once-blonde brows. His blonde/grey hair is a scraggly mess, similar to Rhea's at least in how curly it is. Mr. Burlock's cheeks are fuzzy with a few days growth of wiry beard that he absently scratches at as he sizes you up.

Mr Burlock is draped in a fur-lined robe for warmth over merchant's garb. A masterwork short sword and Barossan Broadsword are tucked into his belt. His fingers are bejeweled with rings of silver, platinum and gold while a heavy locket hangs from a chain of alternating silver, platinum and golden links around his neck. His breathing is deep and labored as he says.

Mr. Burlock: "...Friend of Vallio's you say..." He mutters in a hollow, raspish voice, roughened by age and illness alike. "We'll see about that. Bring her in!" He orders, stepping back into his chambers. Mr. Burlock has a big frame with heavy steps. A couple decades ago he might have been formidable in both size and strength, but his muscle tone has softened and his skin sags and wrinkles. Only his gnarled hands, big and bony, remain strong as leans upon a tall cane crafted from the salvaged shaft of some kind of spear.

Mr Burlock's chambers are well-furnished and decadent, featuring expensive rugs, tapestries, paintings and furs. A well-traveled, exotic theme persists throughout his decorations... mostly in the forms of maps, leather-bound journals and taxidermy of rare and deadly creatures (including the skulls of dire-jackals). His living area has a large hearth in one corner, above which is an actual dragons paw, claws spread, scaled in shades of golden-red-and-brown; chained to the stones of the chimney. Were it still attached to the beast it belonged to the paw is large enough to grasp you whole and crush you like a worm.

Three cats stare at you from various corners of the room. One grey, one black and one orange. Mr. Burlock pokes at the black cat with his cane as he makes his way over to one of the high-backed chairs before the flames of the hearth. That's when you notice the old skull of what looks like a hobgoblin on the side table. The morbid relic resembles several other such trophies placed randomly on shelves or stuffed into various nooks and crannies, some of which still bear some tufts of skin and hair... gruesome indeed, intimate of a man who's likely lost some of his senses.

Mr. Burlock: Leans over and drops his blades to the floor before he scoops up the orange cat off his chair which meowls grumpily as he sits and plops it on his lap. "Hush!" He mutters to the feline, patting its ears. "So where is that wanderer Vallio? Don't tell me he's too busy to pay his old friend Kayote a visit!" He exclaims reaching for a berelle of Tejj, the famously strong honey-spiced wine of the local people.

Meanwhile, Rhea swallows, standing stiffly with her hands at her back, waiting for you to deliver the sad news.

[Aletia: What do you do?]

Svexyn

Gasping for breath, Svexyn's eyes widen, taking in surroundings slowly. He recalls the ambush.

~The dark figures; no, the hobgoblins! The surprised and confused eyes of Folg as he was cut down. The stubbornness of Molg as he held his own, only to be outnumbered as his leg gave out. The anger in Molg's contempt at falling to a bunch of savages as he spit in the face of his killer as the blade was retrieved from his chest. And Drasus, that wretched assassin, as he mockingly sneered at the chaos. It was over before it started... I had no chance, and there were no others to help near enough. The Coin! It can't fall into anyone's else's hands!~

Focusing on his hands, he opens it, noting that the coin had landed face up. How fitting, as a series of coughs escapes his lips, as air fills his lungs with the heat and ash flying in the air. He rolls to his side, peering out of the smoke, towards where he saw the armored warrior and that wretched Drassus. But they are gone...

~Where the hell did he run off to? Where is everyone? Does nobody in this cursed land care? Are ashes and ruins all that this land has to offer?~

He moves to sit up, as the coughing continues. He had to get out of here, before the fires took him where Drassus' blade wasn't able to. Sitting up, he glances about as the fires dance their deadly game, consuming anything they can reach. His fist closes on the coin, knowing his task is still his own to finish...

He stands slowly, grabbing his wounds, as they slowly stop bleeding. The fires silhouette around him, almost mocking the fact that he has escaped death's door, ever so slightly. He pauses, taking in the scene, wondering which direction is best to escape this inferno, yet careful enough not to fall into Drassus' attention again...

[sblock=Spot CHeck]Spot Check Result = 13[/sblock]
[sblock=Svexyn Status]Disabled for one round, but figure he's at 1HP by now, Fast Healing 1/round[/sblock]

Burrai Steelborn

Burrai listened calmly. This Jabbar seemed competent, cautious, and quick minded - and Burrai felt a little tension leave him. A man like this wouldn't be so...casual with his business if he felt there was immediate threat. He scanned the road again out of habit. Empty. He looked to Avar and the sundered dwarf rolled his eyes at the argument and gave a shrug. Another gesture of calm. Burrai gave Avar a small shrug of his own - there was little to do other than ignore the sharp words. In any battle, avoiding sharp things was always advisable.

Jabbar said:

"Agree to be honest with me, and I'll be happy to evaluate its origins and uses... deal?"

Click to expand...

Elloral said:

"Be careful what you wish for! Information like that can ensure you end up another victim, or worse yet, another liability!"

Click to expand...

Jabbar said:

"Your concern for my well-being is touching but I'll take my chances. Of course I guard the identity of my clients with my life. No one will get your names from me I swear it!"

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"Honesty?" he said when they'd finished. Jabbar's gaze was strong and clear; Burrai searched the man's eyes for any trace of deception or fear, but nothing dark skittered behind the calm expression. He puffed out his cheeks. "I suppose that is a cost I would be willing to incur. Elloral does speak the truth though - that knowledge could well be a burden, regardless of how easily you can bear it. I am not a stranger to danger myself, so accept my judgement as well. You won't be able to unknow this, and that has its own cost."

Burrai held up a hand before Jabbar could speak. "But I shan't insult you by not accepting your offer. I believe you have understood the risks, but, for my own conscience, it needed to be said. So yes Jabbar, you have my word in agreement. Please lead on if you have somewhere we can speak more freely - there are dark words and powers at play here I do not want to discuss on a street anywhere in any city in the world. and of course," he turns to Bill, "the same warning applies to you elf. This might not be something you wished to get caught up in. And as thanks for your aid tonight, I will offer you the chance to leave and accept your decision in good faith."

Billanverthorne: In This For The Long Haul...

Bill eyes Burrai with a mixture of discernment, curiosity, and respect. "The name's Bill. And I appreciate your candor and your concern. But I'm already involved, rest assured. For one thing, I'm with Jabbar. If this involves him, it involves me. But even if you were to put that consideration aside, from what I have gathered from what has already been said, I think our paths were destined to cross, regardless of the circumstances. If my suspicion is correct, we already share a common enemy, and that enemy has already made it clear to me that my death is a priority. I will speak no more of this until we are in private. Once we are all safe, I will explain further. In the meantime, I'll simply say that I understand the risks, and that I don't scare easily. I am the sort of man who brings the fight to his enemies, rather than waiting on their convenience. Involving me was THEIR mistake, THEIR risk. They will yet live to regret their decision. I'm in. Let's move."

Aletia: Don't shoot the messenger

narayan said:

Mr. Burlock: Leans over and drops his blades to the floor before he scoops up the orange cat off his chair which meowls grumpily as he sits and plops it on his lap. "Hush!" He mutters to the feline, patting its ears. "So where is that wanderer Vallio? Don't tell me he's too busy to pay his old friend Kayote a visit!" He exclaims reaching for a berelle of Tejj, the famously strong honey-spiced wine of the local people.

Meanwhile, Rhea swallows, standing stiffly with her hands at her back, waiting for you to deliver the sad news.

[Aletia: What do you do?]

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Yet again, Aletia had "presumed" wrong.

It would have been easy if it was the bed-ridden old man she'd conjured in her imagination. No.

Instead it seemed, she was going to have to impart the news to a stern, inebriated, tough and grumbling warrior. The air was heavy as Aletia prepared herself, and the ominous furnishings of the room only added to a growing sense of insecurity. For just one moment she imagined her head, neatly stuffed, glass eyes in her sockets, placed upon the shelving for all to see.

~Dragon. Hobgoblin. Oh this one? She was a messenger of ill news... a silly Elf.~

The young woman pursed her lips tight and fell to one knee with head bowed. At least this way she could focus on a section of the floor instead of the numerous taxidermied trophies.

~Here goes then...~

"Sir Kayote Burlock, please forgive my intrusion late this moon-cast eve."

She looked up a little, making eye contact with a touch of reluctance.

"I am Aletia Moonborn, daughter of Athias-the-drow-slayer from lands afar. Though my blood is not blessed to run strong with Vallio Delimrin's lineage, for as much time as I can remember, he was a permanent and shining light in my growth. He traveled with my family, and when ill fate came upon us, he adopted me as though grandchild of his own. I had the blessing to walk with him through this world, to learn from his wisdom, to see all around through better eyes, and to shift from vagrant child to the woman you see."

~Hold back those tears, and prepare to dart away should he stir into a fit of rage.~

"Our dear friend recently made words to me, which at the time seemed of little meaning or consequence, as as we traveled through Vulkh he made mention of... a final journey. It burns my heart, it shall cast shade on my thoughts forever, that the great man was once more true. He died in my arms on a moonless night, with all signs of his demise pointing to the foulness of poison."

"I struggle now Sir Burlock, not to wet your floor with my tears or run into the night, but this moment now between us, was Vallio's wish. He told me he was coming to meet you, an old and dear friend, and that I should accompany him..."

"Yet now, through hindsight, it would almost seem that his final desire, events to set in play, was to deliver me to you... for reasons I do not know."

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