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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Branding Opportunity" data-source="post: 3336727" data-attributes="member: 31812">Having seen all you can stomach in the torture chamber, you decide to head through the open cell block door to the east.  It leads to a long hallway with cells on either side and connects to the other cell blocks on its eastern end, through which you have already traveled.  Unlike the rest of the cell doors, the ones in this corridor seem to have been left untouched by the demon.All of the cells are dark and seemingly empty, except for one in the middle of the corridor which looks to be lit by numerous lanterns.  As you approach, you can see that it is also at least three times the size of all the other cells, with iron bars running the entire 30 feet of its length.  Only the closed cell door, made of more closely grouped iron bars, interrupts the front of the cell.Now close enough so that all of you can actually look inside, you see that this is no ordinary cell.  Its interior decor is shocking: plush carpets, fine wall hangings and portraits, and furnishings of the finest teaks and mahogany give the place the feel of a private room in a high-class inn.  A large throne of painstakingly crafted bronzewood rests in the center of the cell on a low dais facing the corridor, and a portrait hanging on the back wall depicts a regal-looking man wearing royal robes.  Even the air smells clean and fresh.  Two large magical lanterns provide bright illumination.At first you think that the room is empty, merely set up in preparation for someone's arrival.  You discard this assumption when you hear a low chuckling or giggling coming from behind the throne.  A gaunt, ragged figure steps out from behind it, dressed in once magnificent dark-red robes edged in ermine and sable, now stained and torn in many places.  His hair has obviously not been tended to in many months and hangs limp past his shoulders.  His eyes are open wide, crazed and blood-shot and gaze at each of you in turn, accompanied by a quiet mumble.  He holds a piece of charcoal with which he has been writing on the back wall."Welcome," the man giggles, seemingly quite out of his wits.  "Welcome to my home away from home, so to say.  The Dark Master has been telling me that you would arrive soon."  He pulls his robes around him more tightly as he ascends the dais and sits on the thrown.  Flashing another madman's grin he continues, "I'm sorry I could not prepare myself for you, but my guards seem to have all gone ... missing lately."  At this he guffaws loudly to himself, head thrown back in laughter.Anastasia, Mavic:[sblock]Both of you make successful Knowledge (nobility & royalty) checks and realize that this has to be the Marquis of Sterich, or someone who is magically trying to look exactly like him.  The portrait of the Marquis which hangs on the wall probably dates to just after the retaking of Istivin, showing him in better days, only confirms the identity.  Sadly, he is a gaunt shadow of his former self.  He has certainly lost much weight, but more importantly, seems to have lost his mind.The Marquis was officially declared missing over two years ago, said to have disappeared on a hunting trip in the nearby Bova estate.  No one quite ever believed this story, however.[/sblock]</blockquote>

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