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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Sniktch" data-source="post: 521359" data-attributes="member: 7704">New Blood, pt 3, or An Old Friend Actually, shilsen gets the prize here.  Artimas used a scroll of extended feign death created by a higher level caster, so the duration still had many hours left when he dispelled it.  First, he knocked her out with an inflict spell to give the appearance of violence to add to the illusion.  He fully intended to be far away when she woke up but circumstances dictated a new course of action.Now for the next update, in which Artimas recruits his third new ally.  I want to point out that none of the new characters seen thus far are PC's.  I offered the option of playing Tierak as a PC but no one bit, although Artimas' player is going to control her for the most part, since he's proven so adept at handling the role of the evil death priest.  We'll start to see the new PC's arrive in the next few posts.*****Artimas shook the halfling awake when they reached Brian’s Stone.  “Welby, wake up.  I need you to find a suitable inn and stable for our stay.  I have something else that needs seeing to.  Oh, and don’t go into the wagon right now.  Its not safe at the moment.”Welby scratched his head curiously.  The wizard always had one experiment or another going on in his laboratory, but they weren’t usually dangerous.  Maybe he would tell his shadow to poke its head in later and see what was going on.  Right now his overriding concern was the location of suitable quarters.  Hot meals and soft beds.  He sighed and waved at the departing wizard, then began his search, letting his sensitive nose guide him toward the inn with the best smells exuding from within. Artimas strode off in a different direction, a lumpy black sack thrown over his shoulder.  He had always had a talent for finding people and places that would prefer not to be found, and he’d had an opportunity to put that skill to work several times over the winter when they’d visited the city.  The people he went to see now were his least favorite to deal with, but they were the only ones he knew of who could help him accomplish his goal.As the mage cut across busy streets and cut through narrow alleys, his surroundings began to change, growing more and more shoddy with each road selected.  He moved into the very heart of the worst slums in Brian’s Stone, arriving at a narrow street with ramshackle, derelict buildings yawning emptily on either side, a place long ago abandoned to the insects and rats.  He entered a seemingly abandoned warehouse, but the necromancer was aware that his presence had been detected and hidden watchers now followed his every move.  He knelt on the stone floor and rapped on the flagstones in a particular pattern at a certain spot, then stood back and waited.  After what seemed an eternity to the anxious wizard a square section of the floor slid back, revealing a steep, spiraling staircase heading down.  Artimas Sendant whispered a silent prayer for his safety as he started down, into the secret temple of the Morrigan.Eventually the staircase bottomed out into a long, straight corridor.  Alcoves were carved out of the earth at regular intervals along the passageway, occupied by silent suits of armor arranged to give the appearance of stern vigilance.  Artimas knew that if he were an intruder the sentinels would animate to block his path and was pleased by the knowledge that his chosen profession and reputation granted him access to such places.He followed the corridor to a thick wooden door engraved with an upside-down pentagram and raise his fist to knock.  The door swung inward before he could bring his arm down and he was thrown temporarily off balance.  He recovered quickly and stepped inside, seeing a pale sickly youth with thin greasy hair running his sleeve across his swollen red nose awaiting him within the small entry chamber.  The lad stared at him inquisitively and Artimas replied to his unspoken question, “I must speak with Master Tivelis at once.”The boy yawned, “The Master is a busy man.  Why should he see you?”“Tell him Artimas Sendant wishes to see him regarding an urgent matter concerning the disposition of ten thousand gold coins I wish to ‘donate’ to the church.”The youth swallowed at the sizable sum and hurried off to fetch the high priest of the cult.  Artimas took a seat in one of the plush velvet chairs lining the walls of the room and stared at a tapestry on the wall depicting a gruesome sacrifice as he waited for the boy to return.  About an hour passed before the lad finally returned, motioning for the wizard to follow.  He led through a huge vaulted chamber that served as the chapel, dominated by the high raised dais in the center of the room and the massive block of jet atop it that served as an altar.  From there they entered a twisting warren of tunnels and finally stopped at a brass-bound door deep within the maze.  “Enter,” called a voice to the youth’s knock, and he beckoned for Artimas to step inside.  The mage entered the room and surveyed his surroundings.  The place was decorated opulently with lush carpets, tapestries of brightly colored silk.  The furniture was also rich, made of rare woods and covered with cushions of all shapes and sizes.  The room’s only occupant was an immensely fat man covered with scars spread out across a large metal couch.  He gazed at the necromancer through bored, half-lidded eyes and yawned, “I was informed you wished to discuss making a donation to our temple.  What exactly do you need me to do?”The wizard opened the stained black sack he carried and removed the dismembered body of Igor the zombie.  He explained his wishes to the corpulent high priest and the man perked up, intrigued by the wizard’s ingenuity.  He pursed his lips when Artimas was through speaking and queried, “And exactly what did you plan to pay for this service?”Artimas spoke a number and the man’s eyes lit up with greed.  He bobbed his head agreeably and said, “Yes, I believe we can come to an agreement.  Tell the boy to summon my litter bearers and we will go to the chambers of creation.”  He relayed the commands and soon four massive eunuchs arrived to transport the gluttonous priest and his iron seat.  They journeyed to another portion of the maze-like complex, finally entering a room where such vile acts had been performed that the air had taken on a permanent chill.Tivelis spent the next several hours preparing for the ritual while Artimas performed his own grisly chore.  While the priest directed his attendants and intoned the prayers and incantations necessary for the final spell, the mage sawed off a circular section of bone and polished it until it was a gleaming ring of ivory.  Then he took a scroll from his case and carefully inscribed the runes of binding around the outer surface of the ring.The two dark clerics then lifted their voices in combined prayer, calling simultaneously to Arawn and the Morrigan to grant them the energy needed to produce the desired result.  A strong wind began to blow through the chamber, extinguishing all sources of illumination, and a high-pitched keen rose above the wind, threatening to pierce their eardrums.  Abruptly it ceased, pitching the gathering into silent darkness.Artimas muttered a word and a light flared into existence from the death’s head that topped his cane.  Before him stood a wrathful apparition, staring at him with murderous intention.  The specter resembled a young man with short cropped hair, lean and agile, muscled like a hunting cat.  A mask of dark cloth obscured the lower features of his face but twin orbs of intense hatred glared out from above the swatch of material.  It was the ghost of a man who’d once killed him, the ghost of the Mask.The spirit was temporarily disoriented.  Its voice came into Artimas’ head.  “You!  I killed you, how can this be?”“My companions restored me to life.  Now I have restored you, old friend, although not to the same extent.  You are a ghost now.  Jack and Grick slew you for attacking me.  Now enough questions, we have work to do.”“Bringing me back is the last mistake you’ll ever make,” the incorporeal assassin sneered, taking a threatening step in the wizard’s direction.  “I’m going to finish you now and then go pay my respects to the rest of my idiot ‘friends.’”Artimas held up his hand, the hand with the ivory ring fashioned from the Mask’s own forearm, and the angry spirit was compelled to halt.  “No, old friend, I’m afraid you don’t have that option.  I didn’t call you back so that you could attack me, I called you back to serve, and serve you shall.  It’s the ultimate revenge, don't you see?  You may have ended my life for a brief moment, but your spirit will be shackled to me forever, my slave for eternity.“Now begone!  Discorporate until I have need of your services.”Defeated, the ghost could only wail its rage and frustration as it faded from view.  Artimas turned to Tivelis with the exultation of his triumph clearly written on his face.  He had added a potent tool to his arsenal for the return to the underdark, the most powerful undead weapon he’d ever controlled.  He bowed to the high priest and said, “I thank you, Dread One, for your aid in this matter.  I will arrange the transfer of funds as soon as I return to my quarters.  In the meantime, if I may, just one more favor.“I seek to hire another wizard to complement my skills when I return to bring death to those who have angered me.  Do you know where I may purchase the services of a suitable candidate?”Tivelis considered the question and immediately hit upon the answer.  Of course, snickered the priest, it was a perfect way to rid himself of that toad.  He beamed at the servant of Arawn and nodded affirmatively, then called for an acolyte and whispered a series of instructions to the man.  Artimas thanked Tivelis once more and set off into the maze again, following the acolyte back to the living quarters of the complex.  Behind them, unseen and unheard, odorless and weightless, trailed the deadly ghost assassin.Still to come:  The prisoners’ fates revealed and the exceptional goblin.</blockquote>

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