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Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4994897" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Isles of the Damned: Part 2b – The Boneshaper’s Throne</strong></p><p></p><p>The corridor extended straight for about thirty feet, then curved to the left, sloping gently upward. The corridor, like the rest of the Skull, was smooth white ceramic, with just enough flat space down the middle of the floor for easy walking.</p><p></p><p>“Hear that?” asked Vlad.</p><p></p><p>Kham nodded. It was strange, atonal music. </p><p></p><p>After another hundred feet, the corridor curved again to the left, becoming a walkway. As the corridor bent, the wall fell away and they found themselves on a gangplank overlooking a vast atrium bathed in crimson light—from the round ruby windows.</p><p></p><p>“That light is from the Skull’s eyes,” said Beldin. </p><p></p><p>Small crowds milled around the floor of the atrium, which was dominated by a revolving statue of a massive, ornate sculpture of a pistol. The gun, at least thirty feet high, appeared to be the source of the music. Dissonant notes echoed through the high-ceilinged chamber.</p><p></p><p>Kham slapped his forehead. “I really hope that’s not the artifact. Because I don’t think I can carry that.”</p><p></p><p>They kept walking, peering into each room. One room was a nursery, with cradle upon cradle filled with babies. Two of the metal things patrolled the aisles, attending to the crying infants. </p><p></p><p>“What kind of place is this?” asked Beldin, horrified.</p><p></p><p>“According to von Grebel, it’s where Zoltan Zaska raises his clones.” Sebastian nodded towards a painting hanging on the wall of the room. It was of Zoltan, who somehow managed to look both roguish and beatific, cradling a child in his arms. </p><p></p><p>“They seem well taken care of,” said Vlad. </p><p></p><p>Indeed, the strange skeletons were surprisingly gentle with the babies, picking them up and rocking them to sleep, feeding them milk from a beaker, and adjusting their covers.</p><p></p><p>“This place creeps me out,” said Kham. “Let’s get the Leviathan Pistol from this psycho and get out of here.”</p><p></p><p>They moved on to the next attraction on Zoltan’s parade of grotesqueries: children five to ten being drilled in pirate history by an eloquent metal skeleton. The children wore different-colored robes, all shades of red. </p><p></p><p>“Black Jenny was the most beautiful woman in the world,” said the skeleton in an incongruous feminine voice, “a siren of the deep. But Ezekiel Carthy was a boorish coward. It was thanks to Leviathan that Zoltan was rescued, along with his four companions, and…”</p><p></p><p>Kham shook his head. </p><p></p><p>“You know about the Full-Fathom Five?” asked Sebastian.</p><p></p><p>“My father devoted his life to the study of pirates, remember? Yeah, I know all about them. And what that…thing in there is teaching those kids is a pack of lies.”</p><p></p><p>They kept moving. The next room contained several groups of teenagers learning the ins and outs of courtly life. Several practiced sword fighting, while others learned proper manners at an elegantly appointed table. Still others learned to dance the quadrille. In all cases, the strange metal skeletons accompanied them: as fencing partners, dance partners, and servants. </p><p></p><p>They hurried past to a domed, red-lit chamber, where young men and women sat in rows before a podium. A metallic skeleton in white robes stood beside a fountain. </p><p></p><p>“All praise Zoltan Zaska, the beneficent and magnificent.”</p><p></p><p>“All praise His name,” said the congregation.</p><p></p><p>“We believe in Zoltan, the father of the Great Pistol, given to him by the Lord of the Oceans.”</p><p></p><p>“All praise His name.”</p><p></p><p>“It is he who provides bounties of food, who keeps those in the Skull in peace and harmony, who lets the brutish give vent to their passions,” said the skeleton.</p><p></p><p>“All praise his name.”</p><p></p><p>“Someday,” said the skeleton, addressing the young men in the audience, “you will return to the savage lands beyond this castle and try to become the image of your master–to lead the barbarians beyond their bloodlust so that may return to the master’s fold.”</p><p></p><p>“This is sick,” said Vlad.</p><p></p><p>“And you,” the skeleton addressed the women, “will have the most glorious responsibility of all–continuing Lord Zaska’s line, until he decides his people are worthy of salvation and he rejoins them from his secret chambers in the upper reaches of the fortress.”</p><p></p><p>“He’s breeding them?” Beldin asked in disgust. </p><p></p><p>“They are clones, after all,” Sebastian said dispassionately. </p><p></p><p>“Now Daughters of Darkness, come drink of the Fountain of Life,” commanded the skeleton.</p><p></p><p>“Secret chamber, huh?” Kham loaded two of his pistols. “It’s time Zoltan met my Daughters of Darkness.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4994897, member: 3285"] [b]Isles of the Damned: Part 2b – The Boneshaper’s Throne[/b] The corridor extended straight for about thirty feet, then curved to the left, sloping gently upward. The corridor, like the rest of the Skull, was smooth white ceramic, with just enough flat space down the middle of the floor for easy walking. “Hear that?” asked Vlad. Kham nodded. It was strange, atonal music. After another hundred feet, the corridor curved again to the left, becoming a walkway. As the corridor bent, the wall fell away and they found themselves on a gangplank overlooking a vast atrium bathed in crimson light—from the round ruby windows. “That light is from the Skull’s eyes,” said Beldin. Small crowds milled around the floor of the atrium, which was dominated by a revolving statue of a massive, ornate sculpture of a pistol. The gun, at least thirty feet high, appeared to be the source of the music. Dissonant notes echoed through the high-ceilinged chamber. Kham slapped his forehead. “I really hope that’s not the artifact. Because I don’t think I can carry that.” They kept walking, peering into each room. One room was a nursery, with cradle upon cradle filled with babies. Two of the metal things patrolled the aisles, attending to the crying infants. “What kind of place is this?” asked Beldin, horrified. “According to von Grebel, it’s where Zoltan Zaska raises his clones.” Sebastian nodded towards a painting hanging on the wall of the room. It was of Zoltan, who somehow managed to look both roguish and beatific, cradling a child in his arms. “They seem well taken care of,” said Vlad. Indeed, the strange skeletons were surprisingly gentle with the babies, picking them up and rocking them to sleep, feeding them milk from a beaker, and adjusting their covers. “This place creeps me out,” said Kham. “Let’s get the Leviathan Pistol from this psycho and get out of here.” They moved on to the next attraction on Zoltan’s parade of grotesqueries: children five to ten being drilled in pirate history by an eloquent metal skeleton. The children wore different-colored robes, all shades of red. “Black Jenny was the most beautiful woman in the world,” said the skeleton in an incongruous feminine voice, “a siren of the deep. But Ezekiel Carthy was a boorish coward. It was thanks to Leviathan that Zoltan was rescued, along with his four companions, and…” Kham shook his head. “You know about the Full-Fathom Five?” asked Sebastian. “My father devoted his life to the study of pirates, remember? Yeah, I know all about them. And what that…thing in there is teaching those kids is a pack of lies.” They kept moving. The next room contained several groups of teenagers learning the ins and outs of courtly life. Several practiced sword fighting, while others learned proper manners at an elegantly appointed table. Still others learned to dance the quadrille. In all cases, the strange metal skeletons accompanied them: as fencing partners, dance partners, and servants. They hurried past to a domed, red-lit chamber, where young men and women sat in rows before a podium. A metallic skeleton in white robes stood beside a fountain. “All praise Zoltan Zaska, the beneficent and magnificent.” “All praise His name,” said the congregation. “We believe in Zoltan, the father of the Great Pistol, given to him by the Lord of the Oceans.” “All praise His name.” “It is he who provides bounties of food, who keeps those in the Skull in peace and harmony, who lets the brutish give vent to their passions,” said the skeleton. “All praise his name.” “Someday,” said the skeleton, addressing the young men in the audience, “you will return to the savage lands beyond this castle and try to become the image of your master–to lead the barbarians beyond their bloodlust so that may return to the master’s fold.” “This is sick,” said Vlad. “And you,” the skeleton addressed the women, “will have the most glorious responsibility of all–continuing Lord Zaska’s line, until he decides his people are worthy of salvation and he rejoins them from his secret chambers in the upper reaches of the fortress.” “He’s breeding them?” Beldin asked in disgust. “They are clones, after all,” Sebastian said dispassionately. “Now Daughters of Darkness, come drink of the Fountain of Life,” commanded the skeleton. “Secret chamber, huh?” Kham loaded two of his pistols. “It’s time Zoltan met my Daughters of Darkness.” [/QUOTE]
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