(Pathfinder) The Curse of the Crimson Throne IC

[Blisstake]

"The Mute Hag invokes dark pacts, poisoned secrets, betrayal..."

As he thought back on her previous reading, it seemed accurate to a degree. Since there is really little reason to turn down a potentially useful divination, Aldrin nods his head and responds, "Hello, Zellara. I suppose your cards could come in handy. Should Jensi deal the cards, and you read them?

[Leviathan]

The cards are dealt. Zellara's ghostly eyes close, and her hands hover over the deck. Nine cards fly on their own accord into place, three by three.

Zellara turns to the first of them. It depicts a woman, holding out a bouquet of dying roses. From the waist up she is demure, smiling softly, but below her body is that of a coiled serpent. "This," Zellara says, "is the liar. It is obsession, doomed love, and treachery. The King is dead, by treachery, and, to hear the tales (which I do, incidentally, ohoho!), it was either by a doomed, fatal love, or the treachery of his painter! Perhaps the care speaks of him."

The next card is a throne, golden and empty. An apparition stands beside it, mournfully. "Yes, the Empty Throne. The cards tell us that the Liar is as I have said! Or," she adds with a chuckle, "it is referring to me! I am flattered! After all, the Empty Throne signifies knowledge from the ancient dead - that'd be me."

The third card is the Forge: it shows a ruddy dwarf bent over an enormous anvil so that she seems to be struggling with it. "The Forge is a trial. The weak perish, and the strong triumph. I see a great danger for all ahead; if it is the trial, well, the strong will need to be very strong indeed!"

Zellara gasps at the next card. "My, my, this will have powerful portents: the Queen Mother lies in its proper place!" The card to which her translucent, bony finger gestures shows a crowned formian, draped with robes. "The Queen represents the hive - city, as we call it if we aren't formians. The Queen knows much that is hidden. Her knowledge may be the life or death of the hive. Who the Queen is, however, I could not begin to guess! Ohoho!"

The next card is a familiar one: the Crows. "Even as we speak," Zellara intones, "I sense that something precious has been found; soon something else will be stolen away as a result."

"Fortunately," the old fortune-teller says, examining the next card, "the Publican offers sanctuary and refuge." She smiles cryptically. "Let us hope, then, that he is not such a good publican as to charge for his service."

The next card is the Joke. It depicts a two headed giant doubled over in laughter. "Oh, I know," Zellara says with a high-pitched giggle; "my last joke was very good!" She pauses. "Or else there lies ahead a challenge for which physical prowess will not solve nor defend against. You can choose which interpretation is better!"

Her laughter ceases with the next card. "The Fiend is nothing to laugh at, I'm afraid. A great calamity comes, bringing death and destruction in its wake."

"But," she continues, moving her gaze to the final card, which shows a colourful winged snake, "the Winged Serpent may provide guidance. With proper wisdom and knowledge, you will know where and when to strike. You must do so before it is too late!"

With that, Zellara ends the Harrowing. The cards lift themselves off the ground and jump back into the deck. "Now, let me think of some sage advice to leave you with... Oh, I have it! Don't be perturbed! Get a good night's rest before you save the world!"

[Drothmal]

Well, that was helpful... says Reve sarcastically inside of the fencer's mind

I agree that useful data is hard to extract, but if her powers hold true, the information of an upcoming trial and a battle that cannot be won through psychical prowess alone could prove useful replies Rennard as he commits the witch's words to memory and begins dissecting them for meaning.

I'll see if I can get any more information the magus tells his blade before speaking aloud to the ghost

Zellara, could you direct us in any direction that might assist us in finding the "Winged Serpent" or the "Queen Mother"? Any data could prove useful.

[DaedalusMkV]

Dastan nods respectfully to Kroft, though he says nothing, then salutes her and follows after the Lieutenant. He looks tired, even more than the events of the night would suggest, and his lack of speech is somewhat uncharacteristic.

-----

As the dead fortune teller manifests in the barracks room Dastan begins carefully unbuckling and removing his platemail one piece at a time. "Of course, we would appreciate any wisdom you can impart." He listens quietly through the Harrowing, removing and cleaning his heavy armour and setting it in an ever-growing pile at his feet. When she is finished he replies, almost whispering, "Deadly trials and great calamities. This city seems to be undergoing a great deal of Evil right now, doesn't it? I wonder... Was it fate that brought me here? The Gods? One piece sacrificed to make way for another?" He hangs his head for a moment, then looks up again and continues more forcefully. "I suppose there is no purpose in dwelling on the past. I believe this divination makes it more clear than ever that we must be prepared for grave threats in the coming days."

[Blisstake]

"Of course it's in grave danger," replies Aldrin, slightly annoyed. "There has to be something to keep us occupied while everyone's busy looking for Blackjack."

He slouches down on an armchair, and lets out a sigh. "To be perfectly honest, I'm hoping that Blackjack and Trinia aren't discovered. I still don't think Trinia is responsible for the King's death, despite what Kroft said; I'm just not sure if she even gave a confession in the first place, or if she just said something to end the interrogations. Of course," his eyes narrow, giving a glare to Atavian and Dastan in particular, "It wasn't my idea to give her up to the Palace."

[Drothmal]

It is unproductive to dwell on something we cannot change. says the fencer (though Reve was wholeheartedly agreeing with Aldrin) Unless Zellara has any more information for us, I suggest we rest and meet up with Kroft in the morning

[Leviathan]

Zellara lets out another laugh, this one at Rennard. "They're cards, dear! They might be people! But they could be concepts! Or concepts of people! Or people of... no, that one doesn't make much sense! But you get the idea! The point is: heed the message!" And with that, the old ghost fades away, her form washing away, leaving the room empty.

-------------------------------

The next morning is bright and sunny, belying the dark omens and sinister happenings of the night before. Many of the guards in the Citadel appear bleary-eyed, doubtless due to a long night of vigilance. They salute you as you emerge from your barracks. You are spotted by Verrick Soldado, who steps towards, you, but then comes to attention as the Field Marshal strides across the courtyard to greet you, looking as indefatigable as ever.

"I trust you're rested, gentlemen?" she says with a hint of a smile.

"The night passed without incident after you left. No disturbances along the shoreline, except for a robbery - some Varisian stole a bag of silver from another - and a drunken tavern brawl. But that's hardly unusual."

[Drothmal]

Field-Marshal Rennard says making his usual salute at the officer. Has any other information been found on the ship's origin?

After waiting for an answer from Kroft, the magus adds in his pragmatic tone

Though it is rational for you and the City Guard to reward us for our help as a manner of establishing a successful moral system of rewards and punishment, I doubt that there were no other reasons why you wanted us here. What can we do for you?

[Blisstake]

"You mean the entire city hasn't burnt to the ground?" Aldrin asks, with a smile to show he means no offense, "Now however will I spend my afternoon?"

[Leviathan]

Kroft grins. "If you can't find a way to keep yourself occupied, perhaps I can." Her voice changes to her customarily serious tone. "There's a senior wizard at the Academae whose expertise includes the undead. I want you to speak to him and see what he might know about the shadows. His name is Hamish Delmarin."

"And don't expect the wizards to be thrilled; they like their autonomy so much that they've put thirty foot high walls between themselves and everyone else. So take this." She passes a scroll to your group, stamped with the Guard's sigil. "There. You've been deputized. You're officially in charge of this investigation."

[RocketMan]

Jensi

"Oooooooh," Jensi intones solemnly as he takes the scroll from Kroft. "I've never been a deputy before! I bet it's loads of fun!" Then another thought occurs to him, and his face falls ever so slightly.

"Don't deputies normally get badges?" he inquires. "You know, like shiny ones that you can pin on your chest?" He points enthusiastically at the spot where he would put a badge.

[Blisstake]

Aldrin's smile vanishes as he takes the scroll. "I understand," he says, "I know how wizards can be..."

[Leviathan]

"Not in this case, Jensi. Now, there's a lot to do. Let's get to it!" With a nod of her head, the Field Marshal excuses herself, moving to talk with several of her aides and officers.

Verrick Soldado approaches. He seems worried. "I know you've probably been assigned some important task, and Gods know I don't want to be a nuisance if the whole city's at stake, but I'd like to ask a favour of you for when you've got the time. I have a sister who lives in the... well, in the slums. Her daughter is ill, and she doesn't have the money to pay for healing. If... well, if there's any way you can help, I'd greatly appreciate it."

[Leviathan]

Spoiler

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Normally I avoid double posting, but seeing as who goes where has been decided OOC, I'm doing it anyways!

Dastan and Jensi: Trail's End

Verrick Soldado, off-duty for the morning, leads you towards his sister's house, chatting idly. It is a long walk, taking you from the Citadel in the city's south up past the North Bridge. On the bridge there remains not a trace of last night's activities, though the guards stationed there give you appreciative nods of recognition as you pass.

Finally, you come to the small community known as Trail's End, which lies across the Jeggere from the city-proper. It has to it the feel of a small, run-down village: unpaved streets, wood and thatch buildings, and small docks where fishermen ply their trade. You attract a few harsh looks from tattooed Varisian toughs leaning insolently against the wall of a stable, but Verrick's tabard and Dastan's armour clearly make them think better of giving you any trouble.

Verrick's sister's house is a squat, two story wooden building that seems in desperate need of repair and gardening. Its windows are grubby, especially on the second floor, and grass grows in wild clumps all around the property.

Verrick leads you to the door, giving it three hard raps with his knuckles. Then he holds it open for you. "Tayce," he calls; "I've brought help for Brienna!"

A moment later, two figures emerge from inside the house. The first is a woman of perhaps thirty-five years, her hair shoulder length and mousy-brown. She wears an apron, and looks tired. The second is a tall, thin man in white robes, draped with a yellow stole draped around his neck. The golden key of Abadar is worn around his neck. His skin is a coffee-brown colour, and his black hair is cut short. His clean-shaven face looks concerned.

The woman speaks. "Thank you, Verrick. I've been so worried. Brienna has been getting worse and worse all the time and I don't know... So I sent Charlo and Rello to fetch a priest of Abadar an hour ago. This is him," she finishes lamely with a gesture to the man beside her. Verrick's face is dark, and he hisses to you under his breath. "I told her I'd handle this."

The priest bows. "Ishani Dhatri, at your service."

"Please, come in," the woman adds. "I'm Tayce, by the way."

Aldrin, Atavian, and Rennard

The Academae sits atop a high hill. It is ringed by high, dark stone walls carved with crenelations. The only entrance is a wide gate, which is open. Past it you can see a field of trim green grass. In the centre of the field is an immense building, tall and long, with high glass windows, all tinted dark blue. In its middle, a dome of burnished obsidian reaches skywards.

"That's the Hall of Summoning," Atavian pipes up.

Standing at the gate are two guards. Each wears a suit of polished plate, and both have the looks of battle-hardened warriors. Clearly, the mages do not take security lightly. "Halt," one says as you approach. "None without business may enter the Academae. Speak or begone."

As he finishes, a dark red imp lands on his shoulder. The guard appears not to be surprised by this. The imp cackles, its voice shrill and maniacal. "Speak or begone! Speak or begone!"

[Blisstake]

"Cute," Aldrin says "I remember I used to have a house imp, though he was a bit less of an eyesore. We have official business here, so stand down."

He pulls out the scroll and shows it to the guards.

[Drothmal]

Rennard remains silent by the sorcerer's side. It'd seem that Aldrin knew his way around the Academae, making him the most logical choice for leading the social interactions

Nonetheless, the magus was somewhat worried about this visit. He did not know the source of Reve's abilities, but he feared that, should they find about the sentient blade, someone might try to take the rapier away from him

The duelist had to make an effort of will not to rest his hand on the hilt of the weapon

Though I am touched by your worry, there is nothing to fear, Bonded. whispers the blade reasuringly But, if it makes you feel better, I'll reduce my presence to a minimum

Then, with her usual teasing, Reve adds
Who would have though you preferred mysterious women?

The fencer does not respond and stands very still while Aldrin gains the group access to the mages

[DaedalusMkV]

Dastan inclines his head slightly to the priest. "Master Dhatri. As always, it is welcome to see a servant of the Lord of Commerce." The formalities out of the way, he turns to the woman at the door. "Miss... Tayce? Captain Soldado informed us that your daughter is ill. Jensi and I have some ability to deal with such things; if you could tell us exactly what is wrong with her, we will do our best to assist."

[RocketMan]

"Hi!" Jensi says cheerily, grinning. "It will be nice to have help," he says as he looks at Ishani Dhatri. "I don't know why you wouldn't want Ishani here, Verick," Jensi continues, oblivious to the fact that the guardsman likely didn't want that information spread around. "The more people who want to try to make Brienna better, the better!"

[Leviathan]

Dastan and Jensi: Trail's End

The priest of Abadar gives a serene nod as Jensi reveals Verrick's disappointment at his presence. "It is understandable. The tenets of Abadar dictate that I must ask due payment for any of His power that I provide. I assure you all, however, that I have nothing but concern for the fate of this girl. I have thus applied several herbal remedies to her. To no avail, so far."

"You'd best come inside," Tayce adds. Then to Dastan she adds: "And you can call me Tayce, no miss needed."

Tayce leads you inside the house, which is small and cluttered, with wooden toys strewn across the floor. On a table has been lain a neat assortment of herbs, along with a mortar and pestle. "She's upstairs, sleeping; best be quiet."

Ishani nods in a hushed voice. "She has a concerning fever. It is very high, especially for one so young. If you have any questions, I will answer what I can. Otherwise, I will pray for your success."

Aldrin, Rennard, and Atavian: The Academae

The gate guards take the letter, reading it impassively while the imp leans in close to leer at it. "Very well. Senior Wizard Delmarin can be found in the Hall of Seeing. Go straight there, and do not cause any trouble. And show respect to the Senior Wizard when you see him." With that, you are waved through the gates.

From inside the walls, the Academae is even more impressive. Everything is carved from dark grey and black stone, mostly marble, and richly ornamented. Gargoyles rise from the walls of the massive halls, the largest of which is the Hall of Summoning. Smaller halls are arrayed on each side of it, similar in structure. Students in burgundy robes bustle back and forth across the grass, clutching leather-bound tomes or carrying trays of mysterious magical reagents. Most spare you a glance, but then hurry on about their business.

The Hall of Seeing is a dark building, like the rest, identifiable only by the unblinking eye engraved into the stone above the heavy double doors. Inside, its halls are lit by blue orbs which hover above you near the points of the high, arched ceilings. Unmarked doors, all shut, give the building a xenophobic, insular appearance. Fortunately, Aldrin's time at the Academae allows him to lead you without trouble up a winding spiral staircase and down labyrinthine corridors, until you finally arrive at a door. This one is etched with a curling, runic script, which Rennard identifies as draconic. It reads: Senior Wizard Delmarin. Knock. Doing so, you are bet with a deep, officious, slightly sleepy sounding voice from within. "Enter."

Inside, the room appears to be a spacious, rectangular office, lined with shelves of books that rise to the ceilings on the two sides perpendicular to the doorway. Opposite you is a wide desk, cluttered with wizardly materials, and lit by a tall, thin window. Motes of dust hang in the air, illuminated by the natural light.

At the desk sits an elderly human male, clad in dark blue robes. He has grey eyes that scan an enormous volume lying on his desk without looking up at you. He idly strokes his pointed grey beard as he does so. "I suppose you'll be wanting extended time to complete your divinations, hrmm?" he says without looking up. "My answer is no, but I will allow you to convince me."

[Blisstake]

Aldrin resisted the tempation of telling the senior wizard that he should touch up on his divination magics if he didn't know why they are speaking with him, but decides to keep that quip to himself.

"No sir, we do not even attend the Academae. My name is Aldrin Cress; I'm here on official business."

He shows the wizard the scroll, thinking that perhaps badges would have been more convenient.

"No doubt you heard about the incident with the ship yesterday. We need your assistance as we believe you may hold knowledge regarding the creatures that were on board. What do you know about shadows?"

[RocketMan]

Jensi

Jensi looks at the priest of Abadar incredulously. Inside his head, he feels a surge of - not quite anger, but something close. He's not sure what to make of Dhatri's refusal to heal the girl without payment. It's confusing, and he's starting to feel lightheaded, maybe from the heat of the small house.

It is an utter abdication of responsibility, for who can deny to others those gifts which are not yours save by the blessings of the Gods? Jensi thinks, unbidden. Sickness, despair, and human suffering ever mar this world, and it is the duty of all to endeavour to bring some light, some colour, into it.

Jensi blinks, and the room comes back into focus.

His large violet eyes flash back to Ishani, and he strains to remember the thought which a moment before had been perfectly clear.

"It... to, um, to not heal this girl, it is an utter abdication of your responsibility. I'm not sure who can, er, deny to give the gifts given to them by the Gods to others? That doesn't seem very fair, right?" Jensi finishes, for the second part is a lost cause, completely forgotten by the youth.

Spoiler

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Regardless of Ishani's response, Jensi would like to proceed to the next room to try to heal Brienna.

[DaedalusMkV]

"Certainly, Mis... Er, Tayce." He is already heading upstairs when Jensi makes his rather shocking statement. He turns quickly and gives the Varisian youth an odd look. I've never heard him say anything negative before. I wonder if this is Shelyn's influence at work? He quickly turns to Ishani and holds up a hand, his eyes asking for her forebearance, then addresses Jensi. "It is Abadar's will that his gifts not be employed without compensation, Jensi, not his. Master Dhatri has done all she can without breaking faith with her god, expecting no benefit to herself, and she deserves our appreciation and respect for that. It can be hard, sometimes, not to see the worst in people. I know that, but you should save your anger for those who truly deserve it." He says this as though it is simple, an easy solution to a difficult problem. Perhaps, for him, it even is. "Now, we have no time to lose. Have you been able to determine the source of the child's illness, Master Dhatri?"

[Leviathan]

Jensi and Dastan: Trail's End

Ishani bows slightly, and speaks formally and serenely to Jensi. "I shall respect your disagreement, Jensi Jiri. Such matters are of faith: Abadar teaches that duties ought always to be repaid; I do not believe Shelyn believes the same."

To Dastan's question, he continues. "I have never seen these symptoms before, though I confess that I have been in Varisia only a few years." He takes a sideways glance towards Tayce, who has busied herself on the other side of the kitchen, then continues in a hushed voice. "She is weak physically, and feverous, though she has been ill for only a short time. Her skin is marked by red points. I suggest we see her now."

He leads you up the stairs, his white robes brushing each creaky step. The stairwell opens up into a bedroom loft above the main rooms of the Soldado home. A young girl with auburn hair lies in one of the beds, her light frame dwarfed by the bed's size and the pile of pillows, afghans, and quilts surrounding her. Splotches of an angry red rash cover her face and arms, irregular in shape and size. Her restfulness is disturbed by a fit of coughing that jerks her frame up from the pillows. The spasm passes after a moment, and she drops back to the bed.

Aldrin, Rennard, and Atavian: The Academae

"Oh... Hrmm?" The old wizard looks up at you, then rummages around his desk, pulling up a pair of spectacles. He rests these on his nose, taking a long look at you through them. "No, no, you're not students... Hrmm... The Guard sent you, did they? Well now..."

Delmarin clears his throat; this has no perceptible effect on his voice, which remains scratchy and gravely. "Yes, yes, I've heard about the ship... Curious that there were shadows on board, did you say..."

His tone becomes that of a lecturer. "Now shadows are fascinating beings. Very mysterious, and obviously sinister. Now, lay people often take them to be ghosts, but, truth be told, the connection between the two is unknown. There's a paper by... hmm, what was it... Ah yes, I remember; by Lorrimor. It theorizes a connection with the plane of shadows. But they certainly are undead, and can be created from a spirit just as one would animate a corpse into a corporeal creation."

"But I don't believe you need the theory. No, you'd be after possible creators. And there must have been creators - that isn't speculation. Shadows cannot interact very tangibly with the corporeal world; it's limited, more or less, to a chilling touch. But there is no possibility that they could have gotten on board a ship and sailed it into the city. So they must have been created and left on board."

He strokes his beard thoughtfully. "Theoretically, anyone with sufficient experience and knowledge of necromancy could do it. It depends on how many shadows were present; larger numbers are supposedly difficult to control, and require great power."

[Drothmal]

Senior Wizard, would you please elaborate on what you mean by "larger numbers"? replies Rennard in an academic tone similar to that of the diviner. Though he had not attended the Academae, he found himself reasonable comfortable with the technical speech

We encountered four of those shadows aboard the ship, acting in unison. By your words, it would seem that the correlation is more than linear, but without more clear terms, it'd be hard to assess our enemy continues the fencer, clearly thinking that logical arguments are more important than pleasantries or polite delivery

Another piece of data to keep in mind is that, besides the shadows, there was a fifth creature the magus describes the winged foe that brought down the ship Do you know what this creature could be and if there are any reports of such creatures normally associated with shadows?

After hearing the wizard's response, Rennard will add two final questions

Is it possible to use divination spells to track the source of the shadows? If not, could the name of the passengers of the ship be obtained through magical means?

[Blisstake]

Aldrin considers this new information.

"The Academae has an entire building devoted to necromancy, does it not? I don't suppose there's a chance of you being able to narrow down who would be able to conjure these creatures, would there?"

When Rennard mentions the strange creatre on the ship that joined the shadows, Aldrin adds, "That's right, and you mentioned it spoke Abyssal, correct? It certainly was not undead itself, however, as it fell pray to spells that only affect the living. Either way, I don't believe scrying will be of much use, Rennard. If my understanding of the process is correct, it requires some method of identifying the subject. In other words, we need to know the specific creature we wish to observe, rather than soley a typical member of the, um, species."

[RocketMan]

Jensi

Jensi frowns sympathetically at the small girl lying sick on the bed. "She doesn't look very good, does she?" he asks to no one in particular. "I'm not sure what I can do to help - I don't think I can cure whatever she's sick with. But I can at least delay it. I'm sorry, I wish I could do more." Jensi looks gloomy as he moves to the girl's side, laying a hand on her forehead and channeling a pure white light into her.

Spoiler

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Let's start with two casts of Lesser Restoration. (2d4)[5]

[Leviathan]

Jensi and Dastan

The oracle's spell washes over the girl, who tosses and turns. The blotches recede, and she grows still once more, sleeping.

Ishani looks over her. "As you say, Jensi Jiri, she has been restored to health, but the illness within her is not yet gone. In time, she will decline once more, unless, Gods willing, she finds the strength to fight it."

Aldrin, Rennard, and Atavian

"We could certainly provide you with a list of Academae magi capable of casting such spells," Delmarin says. Then his voice grows snappish and defensive. "But the integrity of the Academae is beyond question, and spell usage is carefully restricted."

He continues. "The creature you've described is likely a shadow demon. Its relationship to shadows is more analogy than homology - one manifests as an undead spirit with ties to the plane of negative energy, while the other is Abyssal in nature - but no, it is not uncommon to see them together. I've known them to be summoned by all manner of organizations, to say nothing of individuals. Cults of Urgathoa, Norgorber, or another deity, cabals of witches, rogue conjurers, assassins..." he waves a hand idly; "the list goes on and on."

More to the point, it seems that you have two questions before you in your investigation: who or what was the instigator, and for what purpose?"

[Blisstake]

Aldrin retorts, "I understand that spell use is restricted within Academae walls, sir, but I am familiar with a few graduates who have used their magical training for... less than productive purposes."

When the senior wizard explains the various groups that could be responsible for the shadows, Aldrin sighs and asks, "So there's really no way to figure out the cause of this besides trial and error? That's unfortunate."

[SanguinePenguin]

Atavian felt rather uncomfortable in the man's presence. While he was pretty sure that the senior wizard would not recall their few brief encounters while he was a student here and even if he did there would be no foreseeable consequences, for some reason the halfling desired his former role as student of the Academae to remain unknown. It is some time before he chimes into the conversation at all, "is it possible that this shadow demon was controlling the shadows - or is some other director needed?"

[RocketMan]

Jensi

Jensi looks down sadly at the little girl. "I think," he says wearily, "that I've done all I can. Ishani, if you don't want to cure her without gold, we - I, at least, well, I can pay you to do it."