Pathfinder 1E [IC] Way of the Wicked

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Silhouette ascends the steps to the porch as well, shaking her head at the antics of the others.

"Maybe you should put that club of yours away before someone gets hurt," she suggests to Nelleon. "It's one thing to show strength, it's another to charge into the home of powerful benefactors, weapon in hand."

She raises her voice and calls into the house, "Hello? Anyone home? We got your letter and decided to come see what you wanted with us."
 

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[section]When the others enter the manor house, Cass stands outside the doorway a beat or two. Flexing his fingers and wishing for his absent longsword, Cass cracks his shoulders then enters after the others, looking around as he does. [/section]

[roll0]
 


At the door of the manor house you are met by a green-eyed woman. Armides recognizes her as Tiadora the woman that had visited him in prison. However she is no longer dressed like she is destined for a funeral. Instead she wears a diaphanous white gown that makes her look almost angelic. When she speaks, any illusions about her angelic character are quickly dispelled.

“Dearest, you took long enough,” she says pitilessly. “We were beginning to wonder if you’d ever make it. Oh, and you brought friends. The master commands all of you to appear before him but before that, you must be made presentable. Slaves!” She claps her hands. A dozen young attractive men and women all wearing very traditional servant’s livery appear quickly, their heads bowed. “These people are our guests,” she commands imperiously. “See them to their rooms. I want them cleaned, dressed and refreshed. Quickly.” There is something in that last word that sounds like a threat. Certainly the slaves take it that way, hustling to perform their duties.

[sblock=Sense Motive DC 15]The slaves seem addled and enchanted.[/sblock]
You are led up to your rooms. The accommodations are comfortable and the slaves are silent and efficient. There are fresh clothes perfectly sized to each of you in your rooms (you each have your own room) and there is opportunity to wash up. Each of you also receives a platter full of hot, delicious food and fresh water. Grumblejack gets his own room as well.
 

Lord Nelleon was at first wary of the food, especially as he sensed the problem with the servants, but soon his hunger took control and he took his time enjoying his first hot meal and cool drink in quite awhile. He gratefully removes his clothes, washes up as best as possible with the water available, and dresses in the more aristocratic part of the wardrobe he can find that matches those of his fellow nobles. When properly attired, he leaves his weapon behind and musters his dignity to await in the anteroom.
 
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[section]Cass looks askance at the slaves, noting any he passes who are attractive. Adjusting the sudden tightness in his ragged breeches after passing by a particularly lovely dark-skinned beauty, Cass minutely shakes his head no. They're addled. No sport in that. Once in his room, Cass sniffs the clothes laid out for him, linens, and both the food and water. After wavering between warring desires to eat or be clean, Cass sets upon the food and water (if neither Heal nor Perception reveal poison).

Cass bathes after eating, scraping off layers of dirt-caked skin. Once he is dressed in clean things, Cass exits his room and heads downstairs, looking around as he goes.[/section]

[sblock=Die Rolls]Sense Motive 16.
Heal 13, and/or Perception 16 to see whether the food or water is poisoned. Cass does not have the spell detect poison. No problem if neither Heal nor Perception work in this instance.
Perception 22 to see what he can see after exiting his room.[/sblock]
 

[roll0]

Niles does not feel he should see the slaves as desirable flesh, as his sister was enslaved for the flesh trade. However having such around has given him cause for concern. He smiles at the comely northern girl, not noticing anything off and enters his room without further ado. He cleans and freshens thoroughly then eats - it is only civilized to eat with clean hands. He checks and re-checks his clean attire, a set of clothing as would be worn by low level guilds man, though the colors chosen are a bit bland. He does not know if he may have to run or hide in the near future, so it is best to be able to blend in. He now regrets just standing and watching his skillfull handy work of vengance, perhaps he should not have just stood there, but rather done so with stealth. Live and learn.

With a smile he leaves the room, only then thinking about the possibility of the food being tainted, not that he sees that as viable. He does not see why the benefactors would spring them only to kill them here. He takes inventory of his memorized spells, and then wonders how he was going to re-learn new ones or the ones he has now memorized.

He returns in all expedience as he was directed and waits in silence.
 
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Silhouette is mightily tempted to linger in the bath, as it eases the pain of her injuries marvelously. The slaves are a warning though, she thinks. One possible fate, should the masters of this house decide they are worth more as menial labor than as...whatever it is they want them to be. She partakes of the food and drink, schooling herself to eat sparingly to sate her hunger, not ravenously as her animal brain demands. She has been pulling people's strings too long not to see it. The carrot...a nice room, good food, comfortable and pretty clothes...the stick, mind-controlled slaves.

The sorceress mistrusted it a bit, but nothing was gained without risk. She would play their game until she knew the players, and the rules...and then they would see who was manipulating whom.

She washed her hair and gathered it behind her head to fasten it with pins so the ragged prison haircut wouldn't show. She dressed herself in black and violet and lavender; shades that would work well with her midnight skin tone and hair color. The cut hugged her trim figure pleasingly, but didn't show much skin...a combination of teasing and withholding that Silhouette appreciated.

As ready as she'd ever be, Silhouette went downstairs, trailing the slaves assigned to her, to attend this meeting.
 

Armides Diat, human Inquisitor of Asmodeus

[section]
"We had trouble, as you well know," says Armides. "But we have arrived and look forward to the meeting with our benefactor."

When directed, he follows the slaves to his room. He immediately goes to the bath and allows the slaves to scrub him until his skin gleams, pale and white. Scrubbed and scented and dressed in the clothing left for him he eats fairly quickly though he takes the time to enjoy the pleasure of the food and imagine himself master of the house. All in good time, he thinks. Finally, he allows the slaves to escort him down to the meeting.

[/section]

[sblock=Sheet]Armides Diat, Inquisitor 2
Init: +8; Perception: +7

AC 18 (14 Touch; 14 FF) Current AC: 18
HP: 15 Current HP: 15
CMB: +4 CMD: 18 Fort: +2 Ref: +4 Will: +5

In Hand: Longbow
Conditions:
Spells:
  • 1st level: (DC 13) 1/3 Remaining
    Bless, Cure Light Wounds, Divine Favor
  • 0-level: (DC 12) Unlimited
    Detect Magic, Guidance, Light, Read Magic, Sift

Special: Judgement 0/1 Remaining
[/sblock]
 

At last Tiadora leads you to a beautifully appointed office richly decorated with dark wood and sumptuous brocade tapestry. Sitting in a leather high-backed chair is a devilishly handsome fellow who smiles as you enter. “I believe you to be the first to ever escape from Branderscar Prison. Well done! Of course, you had help from the outside,” he says with a wicked smile.
“But enough with the pleasantries. You must be curious why I’ve helped you. Rest assured this is no random act of altruism. I have brought you here for a reason. My name is Cardinal Adrastus Thorn. I am the last high priest of Asmodeus left on the island of Talingarde. Once the Prince of Nessus was rightly revered alongside the other great powers. Now, the king of Talingarde has become a puppet to Mitran fanatics who wish to destroy any religion that does not bow to their insipid sun god.
“For their blasphemy, I will see the same people who imprisoned and condemned you suffer. I understand what you went through for I have faced it myself.” With that, he pulls down the sleeve of his robe and reveals his own runic ‘F’ brand. “I am going to burn Talingarde to the ground and from the ashes I will build a new nation that knows its rightful master. I cannot do this alone. I seek servants worthy of our Infernal Father’s majesty. Have I found them in you?”
He rises and his eyes flash with hellfire and divine purpose. “Join me! Serve me well in this holy endeavor and I will raise you up in the eyes of gods and men. I will make you princes of the new Talingarde. Today, swear fealty to me and to Asmodeus.
“Put aside forgiveness and I shall give you vengeance. Put aside mercy and be made powerful. Put aside peace and become my harbingers of war. What say you? Will you swear your allegiance or will you burn with the rest of the blind fools?”
He seems to be waiting on each of your replies...
 

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