Ulfang, June 2nd, AE 420
“Here’s a question,” Aris says. “When would Kentfield’s Pazuzu ceremonies take place? What do you think, Corwin?”
Corwin found a book amongst his collection with some discussion of various demon cults and their practices. It has proved quite valuable to the party over the past few days. That’s what happens when you roll a natural 20 on your Knowledge: Arcana skill check…
“Typically on nights of the full and new moons, and also on the winter and summer solstices,” Corwin replies.
“There’s a full moon tonight,” Reana says.
The party decides that Corwin will
scry on Lord Kentfield at the moment of the moon’s apex, figuring that to be the likeliest time for a ceremony. Then Jovah will
dimensionally fold the party to the location described by Corwin. It’s risky, but they hope to jump into the middle of things and cause a ruckus.
First, though, they need to go back to town and pick up Corwin’s mirror at the Gold Dragon Inn, since he needs it in order to cast the
scry spell. They go to town and pick up the mirror. No one appears to be following them, and they safely make it back outside of city walls.
About an hour before the moon reaches its highest point that evening, Corwin begins his casting. After an hour, he begins describing what he sees.
Kentfield is in an open, horse-drawn carriage. He is accompanied by a bodyguard in full plate armor, another in banded mail, carrying a loaded crossbow, and a female guard wearing breastplate armor. Sitting next to the rider is the rapier-wielding, foppish bodyguard who the party met just after the Griffon fight. They ride through the streets of Ulfang until they are outside a stone building in a run-down section of town. They get out of the carriage, with the guards at their most alert, and the carriage leaves. They enter the courtyard of the building, and go into a small tavern called the “Gregarious Gargoyle.” The bar appears empty, with just a barmaid cleaning glasses in the darkened room.
Something catches Kentfield’s eye just after he enters, and he turns towards the direction of the
scrying sensor. He begins casting a spell, and Corwin hurriedly drops his
scry.
“He saw it,” he says.
“I was hoping he’d be in the middle of a ceremony, dammit,” Sir Brennen says. “What now?”
After some deliberation, they decide to jump into the courtyard of the building and enter the bar normally. Gavin preps for a fight, putting on the samurai-mask he received from the Emperor of Ralt Gaither, and tying a headband with
continual flame cast on it around his forehead.
“How do I look?” he asks Jovah.
“Like your head is on fire,” Jovah replies.
“Cool,” Gavin responds. “That’s the look I’m going for.”
They
fold to just outside the Gregarious Gargoyle. The tavern is below street level, and they clamber down a flight of stairs to the door. Aris enters first, followed by Jovah. The place is dark, lit only by one lantern behind the bar. The barmaid looks up from cleaning glasses.
“We’re closed,” she says. “Come back tomorrow.”
“Uh, just one quick drink?” Aris says.
“Sorry,” she responds. “I’ve closed everything up.”
“We have gold,” Jovah says. “We’ll pay well for just one drink…” A
suggestion from the gnome seems to change her mind.
“Oh, well, alright then,” she says, pulling out a couple of bottles of wine and a handful of glasses. The party starts entering the room, one by one. Brennen pulls up a seat by the bar, and starts making small talk.
Then Gavin walks in.
He’s still got the
continual flame headband on, so the room gets
very bright all of a sudden. Brennen and Jovah turn around, and now that the tavern is well-lit, they see that the place is not so empty as it seemed.
Just a few feet from Brennen, lost in shadow, sits the foppish bodyguard, hand resting on his rapier’s hilt.
In one corner sits a man in leather armor, with a longbow strung and set on the table in front of him. He twirls an arrow in his fingers like a drummer in a band.
In the other far corner sits another man in leather armor, with a lute in his hands and a shortsword unsheathed on the bench nearby. He looks quizzically at Gavin, and begins strumming a tune on his instrument.
Between those two sits a half-orc matching the description of Tuck, the assassin’s guild lieutenant. He holds a bow in his hands.
Near the stair leading down from the entrance sits the female bodyguard Corwin saw in his
scry.
Jovah looks at the barmaid.
“You better get out of here!”
Brennen grins a big grin.
“So, where’s Kentfield?”
Aris look at the half-orc. “Hey, is that Tuck?”
And the battle is joined. To Jovah’s immense surprise, the barmaid leaps over the bar, transforming in mid-leap into the golden-eyed man, and drawing a rapier. The foppish man strikes at Brennen, injuring him mildly. Tuck flips over the table in front of him, using it for cover, and fires an arrow at Aris.
Jovah barrel-rolls over the bar, and looks in the room behind the bar. It’s a kitchen, empty, with a door leading out the back.
The archer at the corner table draws his bow back and unleashes two shots into Gavin, who is reacting slowly today. The two arrows bite deep into his flesh, dealing out massive wounds
The archer had +5d6 sneak attack, and the arrows were frost arrows. Gavin took 48 points from 2 shots.
Gavin makes his way towards Tuck, but can’t get a swing in yet. Reana, Aris and Brennen are dealing the golden-eyed man, who whirls into action, striking at each of the people near him! However, the display of fencing prowess is for naught, as he misses everyone.
Whirlwind attack works better if you can roll over a 5…. Grrr… 
Jovah has a flash of inspiration, and peeks out over the bar at the chaos and bloodshed happening.
“Tuck! The golden-eyed man is trying to kill me! I need you and your men to kill him!”
Suddenly the tables are turned, as the assailants all turn from the party to the golden-eyed man.
“Uh oh,” the rapier-wielding shapechanger mutters.
Jovah had been hiding how he had been suggesting things to people up to this point. You might remember the Ring of Humanoid Control from the last campaign. Gavin never got the thing to work, because it was actually a ring of HUMAN control. Aris misidentified it. Jovah figured out its powers in the meantime. One of its abilities is basically a mass charm, and ALL of the assassins failed their saves.
Now things are much different, and the golden-eyed man starts taking some serious hits, including a critical hit from Brennen. Gavin decides not to deal with Tuck, and turns to the bard still strumming on his lute. He raises his sword and swings down hard on his head, drawing much blood. The bard slips under the table, and changes tunes. A mist springs up around the tavern, obscuring almost everyone’s vision. Tuck slips out of the bar in the confusion. Gavin brings his sword down on the bard again, and the music stops.
The golden-eyed man tries to use this opportunity to make his getaway but Brennen criticals him again, and he drops into the mist. Reana is taking no chances, and drops the female bodyguard. The foppish bodyguard cries out, and moves to grab her and escape, but both Brennen and Reana block his path.
“Tuck! Take your friends to the constabulary and turn yourselves in!” Jovah yells. They seem less inclined to follow this advice then the previous, however.
The foppish bodyguard looks from Brennen to Reana.
“Just let us go, and we’ll forget this ever happened,” he says. “We don’t want none o’ you.”
“Why were you trying to kill us?” Brennen asks accusingly.
“I’m just doing my job!” he replies.
“And what’ll stop you from coming back and attacking us again?” the Sword of Kelanen asks.
“I’ll get a
new job,” is the reply.
Reana puts the point of her blade at the female bodyguards neck.
“Where is Kentfield?” she asks.
“There’s a trapdoor in the room behind the bar,” he answers, moving Reana’s sword with the tip of his own rapier.
“He’s down there somewhere.”
“Alright. You can go.” Reana lowers her sword and the foppish man leaves, female bodyguard over his shoulder.
The mist is subsiding as Corwin pulls the golden-eyed man out of the mist.
“Wait a minute, what the hell is this?!” he says in alarm.
Where the golden eyed man was is now a tentacled creature with golden eyes. It looks like a tri-tentacled reptilian beach ball with a cruel beak like a bird. The clothes and rapier of the golden-eyed man are still there, and they stuff them into the party’s
bag of holding. As they do this, the silence is disturbed by the sounds of Gavin smashing the bard’s lute into little pieces against a stone pillar. He stops when he sees the party staring at him.
“Uh, sorry,” he says sheepishly, holding the mangled neck of the instrument.
