Madness, Blood and Thunder in Ravens Bluff Thread 2

[Sallera]

Aya pauses near the edge of the forest, pulling out her spyglass and scanning the road behind her companions before turning her gaze to the burning barn. "Fire started near the back of the building," she murmurs. "Signs of demon summoning, several bodies (injuries, likely dead before fire), one headless (sacrifice?). Idol of Loviatar found, somewhat damaged. Several valuables left untouched; suspect religious dispute or loss of control over called demon..." Nodding, she closes the glass. The arrowheads would present a slight complication, but surely some demons used such weapons. It was not, in the end, how she had wanted to do things, but that was how such things went. You adapted, got the job done, and did your best not to leave any evidence pointing to you.

Turning and leading the way further into the trees as the rest arrive, she eventually stops in a suitable spot and sets down the extra packs, tossing Jorran's back to him. "Looks like our pay's still in there, although you'll have to get your sword back from his house. We'll want to spend the night here, clean up, then circle around tomorrow and return to the city through a different gate. Actually, if one of us has some spare time, they could bring Magnus his share of those gems first, just to split up further." Sitting down, she begins rummaging through Alaister's pack, more out of curiosity than anything.

[TheFallenOne]

Despite unable to see more than rough shapes at this distance it is clear the fire must have drawn attention by now, from the road as well as the estate itself, but if there are attempts to bring the fire under control they so far haven't been fruitful.

Alaister's bag, clearly one of the common magical haversacks, contains a couple ready-made disguises, various tools, a large supply of arrows and an unmarked leatherbound journal, well worn from use. A short inspection shows it's personal notes collecting various pieces of information, dating about four years back at the oldest entry. The handwriting though seems to change all the time, sometimes after a few pages, sometimes within the same sentence.

[Jeff the Green]

Mirielle kneels down next to the bodies. She closes their disconcerting eyes and pulls a scroll out of her bag. After using it on Black Sorrow, she begins praying over the bodies.

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That's gentle repose.

[rypt]

By the time they reach the woods, Cael is already trying to forget what transpired at the barn. Dropping his backpack and an armful of weapons at his feet, he slouches down against the side of a tree, making a point to sit with his back to the billowing smoke.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, he begins to rummage through the cultist's weapons beside him. Finding the ripper, he takes hold of the blade-end and extends the haft towards Jorran. "I thought you might want to hold on to this.

"How's the eye?" he asks after waiting to see if the Luskanite accepts it.

Cael then observes Mirielle's spellcasting for a moment before turning to Aya. "I'm guessing the monk wasn't carrying much on him?"

Spoiler

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Mirielle is casting gentle repose?

[Sallera]

"Just Jorran's bag and his staff, I think. We do know where he was living, so we can try and get more clues to his Thayan dealings from there. If you have any clairvoyance magic, you might be able to take a look inside later, see if it's safe-ish to pay a visit."

Pulling a few arrows from Alaister's pack, Aya replaces the ones she'd used in the attack, then moves over to sit next to Mirielle. Setting down Mirielle's staff between them, she waits in silence, flipping through Alaister's journal until Mirielle finishes her prayers.

"Got a keepsake for you," she says, waving the journal. "I know you had Alaister looking into a few things, and it looks like he kept notes, so you ought to read this through."

Leaning in closer, Aya lowers her voice. "By the way, you were very committed today. Executing Larshon, whatever otherworldly favour you called in to save Jorran, even charging in at the end there instead of keeping yourself alive... you're not turning ruthless on me, are you?"

[Frog Dragon]

Jorran regards the spear with his right eye, almost as if he did not realize that he could not see with a scar. He takes the spear, measuring it with his good eye instead. "I suppose this thing is going to be permanent," he says, holding the ripper by the midpoint of the haft. He hadn't really noticed a change in his ability to see. He brought one hand to the eye, touching the scar tissue. Normally, he would notice half of his field of vision was now gone. Now, he didn't see a difference. He put his hand over his left eye instead, and suddenly he was blind. "Sort of a dull ache," he says. The eye really was gone. Twisting in his armor, Jorran tries to find a suitable loop to carry the ripper in.

[Jeff the Green]

Mirielle accepts Alaister's journal and stores it in her haversack. "I don't think so," she replies with a bitter smile. The tears that had streamed down her cheeks as they fled have dried but left stains. "I'd never met anyone so damnedly evil, Aya. Sure, some of my fellow clerics who had served under Kelemvor's predecessors were less than beneficent, but they never tortured or summoned demons. At least not in my presence.

"Do you know what that thing was? It was a wrackspawn. Souls who don't want to become petitioners can bargain with the baatezu and become devils themselves, but that's not what happened to that poor soul. It was one of the Faithless, and was sealed in the Wall, but was stollen by demons and tortured until it became one of them." Mirielle begins to shake in anger and recalled fear and pain. "No one could consort with one of those unless they were utterly beyond redemption. I couldn't let her twist justice again. I didn't care if I died doing it."

She shudders. "Jorran... I don't really know what happened."

[Sallera]

"Good," Aya replies with a smile. "You're cuter when you're principled."

Leaning back, Aya recalls the incident that led to her formally joining Mystra's service, the inchoate taint of the Far on her target's magic, and the indiscriminate way he had sought to spread it; her face twists into a frown, and she sighs. "I can relate to that, in a way. Facing something that opposes everything you stand for, knowing you have no recourse but to eliminate it, and you can't possibly back down. But, Miri..."

Reaching over, Aya raps Mirielle playfully on the forehead. "Just 'cause you've found a cause you're willing to die for doesn't mean you shouldn't exhaust all your other options first. Back off when you need to. Take a moment to see what choices are open to you. You don't need to worry about giving your enemy a breather when I'm around, poking them full of holes. And it doesn't just apply to a straight-up fight. We do what we can to plan ahead, but there'll always be the complications, the need to improvise. It's hard to do that when your blood's up, and especially when you're feeling outmatched, but that's why we're not working alone. Just... remember that even when something absolutely must be done, that still doesn't mean you have to do it personally."

As the conversation turns to Jorran's survival, Aya leans over, looking up into Mirielle's face speculatively. "Hmmmm?" Flashing a quick grin, she returns to her normal posture. "Well, I guess we don't need to worry, then. Unless it happens again, at least."

[Jeff the Green]

Mirielle returns Aya's smile with considerably less bitterness than her last one. "Gods, I hope it doesn't happen again. I swear, though, I'll join a paladin order if it will keep him from running away again."

She frowns. Aya had been a good ally, and, more importantly, a good friend. She was insightful enough to know something was off with Jorran's apparent resurrection, and deserved to know the truth. Dropping her voice to a whisper, Mirielle decides to take a leap of faith. "Aya, I wasn't exactly lying when I said I prayed to Kelemvor for a miracle. It's just that it wasn't just Kelemvor. Like I said, the Judge of the Damned isn't prone to answering prayers of that nature, and I wasn't exactly," she pauses, searching for the right word, "discriminating in who I sent my prayer to."

[Sallera]

Resting her head on Mirielle's shoulder, Aya drops her voice to a murmur, still smiling slightly. "Well then, you have your pick of two questions, and neither's got an easy answer. Either 'who out there wants Jorran alive?' or, more interestingly, 'who out there finds you intriguing enough to listen when you call?'"

[Jeff the Green]

"Yes, I'd figured that. I really hope it's the first one. This feels a lot like temptation, and, as a rule, the benevolent forces of the universe don't tempt. Much less someone who they think is on their side already."

She sits silent for a while until Aya moves her head. Then she stands and dusts off her hands before reaching into her sack and grabbing a large earthenware jug. "Okay, let's get these two buried," Mirielle says as she begins shaping the sand into the tools she desires. "It wouldn't do to have them above-ground if someone comes along. Jorran, Alhruar, why don't you gather anything of theirs we want to keep and stick it into someone's pack. Aya, help me finish these?" Some of the sand has slithered together and started to form the blade of a shovel.

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So, if we're using the excavation rules in RotD, we need two people to get a Profession (miner) result of 15 to get a 10x2.5x2.5 grave done in two hours or 10 to get it done in four. Loose soil is a +5 bonus while clay or packed soil is +2. Mirielle has a +3, Aya +2, Cael +1, and Jorran +0. So apparently Mirielle should work in one spot while Cael helps Aya work in the other and Jorran, our strongest, sits around watching.

D&D is weird.

[rypt]

"Perhaps not," Cael replies, managing a weak, but optimistic smile at Jorran's initial remark. "Although it is far beyond the skill of any healer I have ever met, there is powerful magic that can mend such wounds. It would be difficult, and perhaps expensive, but not impossible."

Pulling himself to his feet at Mirielle's request, he steps towards Jorran and extends a hand to help him up. "Let's get this over with," he sighs.

[Jeff the Green]

Mirielle gingerly lifts the bodies—first Black Sorrow, then Larshon—and lowers them into the grave. Then she sings a dirge, unartfully, perhaps, but not poorly, as she shovels dirt over them and pats it down. "There. I'll come back to slow the decay of Larshon's body in the morning and then, Alhruar, if you'd come with me tomorrow night, we'll see what we can learn about their relationship with the Thayans."

Then she scoops a few shovelfuls of earth to produce a small hole, fills it with water, and scrubs the blood and dirt and tears off her hands and face.

Her work for the night finally done, she sighs heavily and sits down, her back against a tree. Sleeping next to the bodies of my enemies I can handle. But I hate camping.

[Jeff the Green]

Despite the fact that Mirielle is half again as old as Jorran and probably less used to sleeping outside, she rises while he's still snoring. She hopes this is because she was still used to lauds at dawn and not incipient masochism. She did not need that in addition to the incipient rheumatism that appears to be poking in to say 'hello' this morning.

"Good morning," she says to the two elves. She looks around at the weather and qualifies her previous statement: "If it is a good morning, which I doubt.

"Should I wake Jorran so we can return to the city?"

[rypt]

Mirielle finds Cael sitting cross-legged against a tree, grimacing as he rubs the back of his neck. "I've had better," he says dryly, a bruise on his hip and a welt on the back of his head having made for a fitful reverie. "Then again," he adds with a strained smile, counting himself lucky that these are the worst of his injuries, "I've also had worse."

"That's on you," he chuckles when she asks about waking Jorran. "He was looking a little rough last night, I'm okay giving him another fifteen minutes or so."

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Ready to move on when you are.

[TheFallenOne]

20th of Marpenoth

The city is as welcoming as ever, perhaps even more so from the perspective of someone who slept in the cold and wet outside. Only Aya was spared, her magical cloak prodiving versatile comfort, and she procures sugared tea, steaming hot, offering it to the less lucky sleepers.

At this early hour there are many more people leaving the city than entering, and the guards at the gate watch with bored expressions, though one of them doesn't fail to notice your condition. "Geez, what happened to you lot? There's an inn just five miles outside the gates you know. The coast of the Dragon Reach doesn't make for nice camping this time of year."

[Jeff the Green]

"Oh, believe me, we know that now," Mirielle replies, rubbing her sore back and smiling ruefully. "But, on the bright side, I think I've filled my quota of unpleasant experiences for the month."

[TheFallenOne]

"If that is so better stay out of the 'scales at night. Now carry on please, lot's of traffic coming the other way."

Shortly after, Aya splits off. "Gotta report to the temple. You know where to find me if anything comes up." She casually waves goodbye and disappears in the crowd.

[Jeff the Green]

Mirielle breathes a sigh of relief once they're out of sight of the guard. She's still sure that what she did was necessary, probably even right, but that didn't change the fact that under mortal law they'd probably committed murder. And later tonight she'd be abusing a corpse. Twice.

"Come by an hour or so after sundown," Mirielle instructs Alhruar. "I'll be done with my preparations by then and we can see what we can find out from Sorrow."

She takes her leave and heads first to purchase a scroll, and then back to her apartment to drop off what they'd scavenged from the Loviatans.

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Hey, I managed to finish packing, post, and go to bed in time to sleep three hours before I have to leave! I wasn't expecting to manage even two of those.

The scroll's gentle repose, in case it isn't obvious. I left it off here in case Keeva's wondering what happened to Mirielle the previous night. Otherwise she'll drop off the loot, return to the makeshift grave, dig just enough to reveal part of Larshon's body, use the scroll, head back, take a bath, and then talk to Misti.

[rypt]

Cael frowns at the gate guard's comments, and as they pass into the city proper, he waives a hand over his vest, invoking a simple spell to clean the dirt and mud from his clothes and hair.

"I'll be there," he nods. As they begin to go their separate ways, he adds, "Shall I give Misti an update?"

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Cael casts prestidigitation.

[Jeff the Green]

"Ah, I will," Mirielle replies. "I'm pretty sure she doesn't know you were working with us, and I'd rather not spook her."

[TheFallenOne]

Misti Marva's Moonlight Pawnshop

Upon arrival Mirielle has to wait about 10 minutes until Misti finishes talking to a man with a shaggy black beard, a low-cut shirt far too sparse for the season exposing most of his hirsute chest. He scowls upon leaving when he sees Mirielle, but then grins and touches two fingers to his red bandanna in mock salute.

"Hey Mirielle. How'd it go?" Misti asks once they are alone.

[Jeff the Green]

"Not well," Mirielle replies, her eyes downcast and her voice somber. "Larshon and Sorrow are dead, but so is Alaister. And it was messy. I imagine you've already heard about the fire outside the city last night."

[TheFallenOne]

Misti Marva's Moonlight Pawnshop

"Alaister's dead?" Her eyes widen, seeming rather saddened by the news. "Apart from certain quirks I really liked him, he was nice and entertaining in his own way. My condolences. So they met on the grounds of the Mortonbrace estate and you still attacked them, huh? Are you sure nobody saw you?"

[Jeff the Green]

"Fairly sure," Mirielle says. "At least, they didn't follow us. We spent the night in the forest, and it should be pretty obvious to anyone who investigates that it was a Loviatan rite and that there was a demon involved, so that should discourage further investigation.

"Who are the Montbraces?"

[TheFallenOne]

Misti Marva's Moonlight Pawnshop

"A demon?" She is visibly surprised. "Even after everything I knew of her I didn't expect her to stoop this low, and isn't Loviatar a bit too, how should I say it, orderly for that kind of creature anyway?

The Mortonbraces are an old, but fairly minor family. Were always more into adventure and exploration and almost wiped out during the war. Their current Lord, Baron Riol... Was quite heartbroken with the death of his first wife, but the line lacked a male heir. His three daughters broke his legs by toppling a bookshelf on him and refused to let him be healed until he took a second wife, getting married still in his sickbed." She giggles, but it quickly subsides. "I guess that story loses some of its humor if one considers one of them might worship Loviatar, hrm."

Spoiler

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remember to note your location when the party is split

[Jeff the Green]

Misti Marva's Moonlight Pawnshop

"Normally I'd say yes, but this one... Mirielle shudders involuntarily. "This one had something of a special connection to Loviatar's portfolio, and I gather that Larshon may not have been the most methodical of her followers. If you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about the particulars. It's not a pleasant memory, especially this soon.

"Do the Mortonbraces have much influence in the city? I mean, could one of them have protected Larshon from the law?" Mirielle's tone is perhaps a little more urgent than she realizes. She still feels the same certainty in the Justice of her actions, but some part of her must still want reassurance, or absolution.

[TheFallenOne]

Misti Marva's Moonlight Pawnshop

"No, they are not that influential... Far as I can tell the Paerindons and Longbottles were her most influential allies. The son of Lord Paerindon was one of her lovers and Lord Longbottle's brother owes her his life from when he was the keeper of the Light House. When we lost our fleet during the war the Golden Ball and Lasher fought off pirates more than once. Some others may not be her allies, but either don't care about the fate of the prisoners or prefer not to make corruption in the justice system public."

[rypt]

Out and about --> Ravendark Castle

After parting ways with the rest of the group, Cael heads back to the Lucky Coin to check on his room and to grab some breakfast. Hungry as he is, he eats quickly, and then it's right back out again in search of a bathhouse. He finds one in Tlasbras, where he spends an hour so, giving himself a proper cleaning while also allowing himself a few rare moments of relaxation and a chance to recover from the events of the previous day. Once he's finished, he makes his way to the Office of the Watch, hoping for another chance to be able to speak with his sister.

[Jeff the Green]

Mirielle is unsure whether to be relieved that her attempted execution cum murder was as justified as she thought or horrified that the city is so corrupt that a priestess of the Willing Whip might have so many allies. The mix of emotions is confusing enough to distract her, though, so she pushes them aside and tries to focus on why she came.

"I certainly hope her death will inconvenience them," she says. "In any case, I came to collect the reward and distribute it to Alaister's and my allies, and to make you an offer. I potentially have access to a source of information about Larshon's and Black Sorrow's activities. I'd be willing to sell you answers to whatever questions you want to ask, assuming my source will tell me, in exchange for whatever information you can find that might prove damaging to her friends. If I plan on making this city my home, I do not want it to be ruled anyone who counts Loviatans among their friends.