War of the Final Whisper [IC]

[Reltzik]

Alstroemeria bows quickly, but deeply and deferentially, to the bench. And then again... still quickly, but more familiarly and intimately, signifying true loyalty rather than legal subservience... to Lady Eliasia. Within seconds, she is moving to keep up with Lord Grallus.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

He's the iron golem we met in the Intelligence Office, correct?

Of course this matter will not be settled in the Commons. It will be settled in private conversations throughout the capitol, in the cloak rooms and drawing rooms, over the course of the next week or two. The Commons was like a bell. The real substance of it was its outer boundaries. That was where opinions would shift, strategies would be formed, considered, adopted or discard, laws drafted and refined. Alliances made and broken. Inside was nothing but sound and fury, wagging tongues and empty echoes.

Too slow, in an emergency. A response needed to be enacted this day. This hour.

That is the first piece of good news. She has made herself the object of immediate attention to those who WILL be enacting an immediate response. That will put her in the right place to deliver information to those who need it, without the days or weeks of procedure and courtesy fees contingent involved in gaining an audience. Dangerous, but then any activity in the Chelish court was dangerous. It was also necessary, and few activities in the Chelish court could claim that.

The second piece of good news is that she has not embarrassed House Leroung. In all that chaos, she heard only one voice that criticized her or her report, and she suspected that was from a cadet remnant or old ally of House Morden. If anything, House Leroung would be credited... subtly, maybe even subconsciously, but then that was the greatest credit one could receive... for setting an effective agent into this affair while the other houses bickered and squabbled. And if matters should turn the other way, she had made it clear that her service had been leased out. Any mistakes of hers could easily be disavowed.

The third piece of good news was that war, while now quite likely, might be directed against Absalom rather than Andoran.

[TiaC]

Velion stands his watch. The situation has only seemed to worsen since he first met with Lady Samiya. He wonders if war has always been inevitable, for their actions have made little difference.

His mood is at a low ebb. He does not deal with adversity of this scale well. When faced with a problem, he tends to strike at the heart of it, or avoid it entirely. Neither seem likely to be effective here. He might be able to muster support to assassinate the senior conspirators, but the consequences would be ruinous, it could martyr them, and there is no reason to believe that more would not arise to replace them. Avoidance seems a more attractive strategy, if his nation would make an enemy of him, then he owes it no loyalty. So, he could flee. His power is great enough that he could easily do it, and his skills could find him employment in most of the world. However, despite his attempts to ignore it, he does have a conscious and it would not allow him peace were he to run.

It was decided then, he would stay for now. However, strategy was not his strength, so his next action would require some discussion with Hurin and Vectus. He nods to himself and finishes his watch.

[Thrair]

"Sekla? Wait.... Chief Bloodthirst's daughter? You were killed!"
A short Hobgoblin steps out, sword in one hand and an vial in the other. It is Kurat. He is largely unchanged, save that his fur is thickening on the back of his neck, a sign of growing age. However, he is missing an eye, which would match was Sekla can recall of the battle.

"It is you. What has happened to the Chief? We heard the sounds of battle at the neutral ground, and we were sent to scout. But we did not expect such chaos."

Another Hobgoblin steps out of the bush, arrow notched to a bow. Sekla does not recognize him, and while a northern hobgoblin with Bloodthirst Tattoos, he appears to have formerly been of another clan.
"Nevermind that, I heard another voice. Who else is here?"


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

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Yes, Grallus is the Intelligence office golem, and high-ranking.

Grallus walks with an exaggerated slowness, something he clearly must do often to avoid outpacing his unmodified peers. As Alstroemeria catchs up, he turns his helmeted visage towards her.
"And you now see why I was so eager to volunteer to become a golem. It keeps me out of politics and on the battlefield. I lost little in return. Still... enough pleasantries, I must be swift. Your investigations have been like a lightning rod, and your group has drawn many strokes from those who would otherwise have remained hidden. Chief among these are the Daemonic cult based in Absalom. While you have been drawing their ire, we have been able to study them. They are an alliance of three sub-cults, each worshipping one of the four horseman. They appear to be trying to subjugate the fourth, as the worshippers of Charon are being assaulted by those of Trelmarixian, Szuriel, and Apollyon. It is possible it is a power struggle."

He leads Alstroemeria into a grand office with thick stone walls and flooring, heading to a back panel and speaking a command word: "Aazhir."
A hallway opens and he gestures for Alstroemeria to follow before closing the door with the same word.

"We intend to direct your focus to this cult, especially where Andoran is concerned. We suspect Absalom to be preparing for war, and we would prefer to not fight on two fronts. Have you made any progress in identifying the leaders of destabilizing elements in Andoran?"




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


The watch passes with little event, though Horncalls grow worryingly close on several occasions.

Vectus soon awakens and begins to study his spellbook, though his eyes betray a strong fatigue. Hurin, meanwhile, is simply staring into the water with little movement.
"I am preparing multiple teleportation spells. We should be able to depart within the hour. Is there anything you would tell me of Ardellon since you took me captive? In particular, I heard mention of Jorel. I would prefer to avoid direct confrontation with him. We have always been bitter enemies on the field, and I have now slain a close friend of his."

[Reltzik]

"No results beyond what I've already shared," Alstroemeria says, "but much progress. If that progress survives a day or two, then we should have results. I prevaricated before the Council. No lies, but some half-truths, where secrecy was essential. The intelligence trove I mentioned is Antoni Vectus. He is freed from his gaes and has vowed to avenge himself upon the daemonists. By evening tomorrow at the latest, if nothing goes afoul, he should be in Ardellon, where he is eager to share all he knows about the cult with Lady Samiya in exchange for sanctuary. I hope to be there myself, but regardless, I suggest that a representative of the Intelligence Office be there to observe. If for no other reason, than that the government have a more respectable source than a mere slave.

"But there is more than that. Vectus is in agreement with my own legal interpretation of events in Andoran. General Larontus's coup is just that: a coup. Illegal usurpation. Our intention is to place Vectus in contact with elements in Andoran who are prepared to support the Senate against Larontus. It is scarcely enough to qualify as a plan, but it is also simple enough to be the best of plans. If all goes according to plan, Isegar Larontus will be facing a counter-coup, or even the start of a full-blown civil war, inside of a week. But there is one provision. Vectus may pledge common cause with us, but unless I have completely misread the man his loyalty is to Andoran. That is what will motivate him against Larontus, but it may also stay his hand if Andoran faces a greater threat. Such as us. Nothing will secure Larontus's political power faster, or serve better to defuse or even prevent Vectus's challenge of him, than renewed hostilities with us as clear aggressor.

"You say that Her Majesty is wroth and will not be dissuaded from war. If the advice of this slave means anything, it would be best if that wrath could be directed against Absalom in general, if not the cult in particular. Naval preparations will perforce take longer than a muster of land forces, if my studies of history have taught me anything, and Absalom prefers to fight on the defensive. In the short term, as those naval preparations are made, it would be best consolidate defensive positions for the possibility... just a possibility... that General Larontus will attempt an immediate invasion, to gain the political benefits of leadership in time of war and to justify further control over Andoran society. It would be hoped a defensive posture on our part could guarantee immediate reversals of his opening assaults, and make him subject to increased internal strife. This would be a foolish move on his part, if he has learned of Vectus's freedom and understands its implications. But his carefully laid plans, I think, now lie in ruins, or will shortly, and I believe it would be the sort of foolishness that might appeal to him in a moment of desperation, however shrewd he is otherwise. Best that he not find profit in it."

[Zerkai]

"It is you. Nice to see another familiar face. And another Northerner as well. I didn't die, I left. I was told Father had died in the attack, and that our clan was splintered. So I left to hunt down the Dwarf that had led the attack, I've been trying to find her for the past two years since I left. As for the Neutral ground, it's... complicated. The anti-magic field went down, and everything erupted into a large battle and I challenged Father." She looked to the one she didn't recognize as she continued to speak in Goblin.

"I have a magic weapon that can speak. But we should keep moving, we could encounter other forces in the chaos, hopefully what happened at the Chateau will keep them occupied."

[TiaC]

"He has ofttimes been at the Chelish embassy in Ardellon. However, in the wake of an assassination attempt, I cannot say if he is likely to remain in Ardellon or be assigned a command. Do you not have magics that could disguise you? If you do, I would recommend that you use them. So far, very few know that you are free. There is power in that information that should not be sqaundered."

Velion then walks over to Hurin and crouches down to pet him. Under the noise of the soldiers striking camp, he Messages "Do you intend to come with us? Vectus could be of great help if you would reveal your intelligence to him."

[Thrair]

"Vectus, you say? The Andoran general? I was under the impression he was slain in battle some months ago, as the war ground to a halt. If his death was a fraud to facilitate his capture, that leaves some concern for the reach of this cult. It is possible other ranking members of both military and government have been subverted, much as our golems. It is, indeed, appearing to be this enemy's preferred method. As to your suggestion, plans are already being conceived. We are merely waiting for Gorthoklek to return before we attempt to dissuade our Queen from rash actions."

He leads Alstroemeria deeper into the compound, before opening another door, this one gaurded by two Hellknights, one of whom fixes the pair with a strong stare, before nodding to her compatriot. She then opens the door and gestures for both to enter.

Inside, a large number of military intelligence officers await. There is a map on the central table, marked with troop and supply movements. One of them turns as the door opens, revealing himself to be none other than Lord Jorel Sorin.
"Ah... Lord Grallus. Excellent. And the servant of.... House Leroung, as I vaguely recall? Preparations as well under way. Should Andoran renew hostilities, we are ready to repulse them. But the focus for our current efforts is preemptive strikes in Absalom. All deniable, of course.

Striding up to the pair, he expression focuses on Alstroemeria. There is an element of distaste in his voice, but he swiftly replaces it with condescension.
"There is, however, a developing problem. Plagues are breaking out in the border regions. While they are not strictly Chelish vassals, each of these cities is located at important strategic sites. Strange outbreaks, you might say. Mummy rot is among the reported cases, and that is not a common ailment this far to the north, would you not agree?"

The golem lets our a low rumble of agitation.
"To the point, Jorel. Which cities?"
His smug smile fading as if slapped, Jorel glares at Grallus before settling his expression into a measured calm.
"Ostenso, Brastlewark, Senara, Ardellon, and Logas. Though I hardly expect these plagues to remain contained. The diseases appearing, while curable on an individual basis, are rapidly outgrowing these cities means to combat them. I believe this one was based in Ardellon, if I am not very much mistaken?"
------------------------------

"Challenged? He is alive. You're right, though. We can figure this out at camp. These Andoran fops are barely tolerant of us, as is. If there was an attack, we'd better not be found outside of the encampment. Wouldn't want to have to kill any of them, after all. Not without approval of the Chief. Follow me, I can lead us back."

The unfamiliar Hobgoblin grunts in disapproval.
"If you stick your face any closer to her, Kurat, you'll end up getting stepped on as you try to lick her boot."
He turns to Sekla and removes the arrow from his bow.
"I'll tolerate you, for now. But I'm not recognizing you as Chieftan without proof that the challenge was properly fought. Until then, you're just another member of this clan, so don't expect me to cow to you."

Kurat begins leading Sekla through the brush, at a rapid pace. He clearly knows the area well. At this rate, she'll be at the encampment within ten minutes, if the map was accurate.

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

Vectus gives Velion a look of mild exasperation. "Of course I have spells of that nature. However, he is well prepared, and rarely enters a meeting with foreign parties without employing spellwork to pierce illusions. I would thus prefer to not chance by him without having time to prepare more mundane methods for disguising my appearance. Still, you are probably right. It is a risk I must take."

Hurin lowers his head slightly as Velion approaches. As the message spell reaches his ears, he ***** his ear towards Vectus, who appears to be utterly exhausted and not to have noticed the spell.
"I do. There's precious little choice. I still serve Andoran. However, I will wait before I reveal myself to Vectus. He was a dedicated officer, but until I am damned sure of his loyalties and his freedom from mental control, I do not trust him. Nor should you."

[Reltzik]

"Your recollection is correct on both counts, Lord Soren. And it is not a common ailment in any part of the world," Alstroemeria says, examining the map to cover her own consideration of the political possibilities. She'd been just about to produce the Hellstone for Lord Grallus... but she wasn't going to with the Fire Marshal present. And she wanted to engage him. Anything. Anything to prevent him from returning to Ardellon in the next 24 hours. "The infected are typically not a danger to anyone. It's non-communicable and quite quickly lethal. There is neither vector, nor time, for it to spread in the general population. For it to do so would signal injuries from undead, or magical generation, or some fundamental alteration of the disease. They've stopped worrying about subtlety." The map, previously just a cover, suddenly became an object of intense interest. "If I might ask, what special efforts are being taken to defend the food stores and harvest? Against any threat, but in particular against blight, and especially magical blight?"

[Thrair]

As Alstromeria begins to settle into her lecturing tone, Lord Sorin's face takes on a red tint and his voice a sardonic drawl. "I am quite aware of the nature of the particular affliction, I assure you. I was merely listing it as one example among many of the ailments appearing. Perhaps you have mistaken me for one of House Leroung, who require constant education on such matters?" He seems rather offended. However, as Alstroemeria brings into consideration the contamination of food supplies, his voice becomes grave and completely void of any trace of superiority.

"... A valid concern. To my knowledge, our own food stocks are quite secure... but, as I have said, these are not strictly vassals of Cheliax, and are not beholden to our laws and precautions It would allow them to strike at larger settlements indirectly by targeting the rural regions responsible for food production. However, there any many vectors for the diseases identified... have you particular reason to suspect transmission through sabotage of food stores?"

[Reltzik]

"None at all," Alstroemeria says, ignoring the earlier jabs. "But we are dealing with a daemonic cult here, one interested in advancing the portfolios of multiple horsemen. War, through subtle instigation between us and Andoran, framing both sides for their own atrocities. Now pestilence, without the subtlety. I have no intelligence on any particular plans to perpetrate a famine next, whether it involves diseased food or simply destroyed food. But it's how they would think. They are growing bolder in their moves and aren't likely to stop now. All four. Death, they achieve through war and pestilence, or maybe they have something additional in mind. But they have yet to engineer a famine. The trifecta of war, pestilence, and famine, all resulting in death, would appeal to them, in a thematic or aesthetic sense. If I had to anticipate their next move, beyond simply fending off our efforts and maintaining what they've accomplished to date? It would be an attack on the food supply."

[TiaC]

"I did not think you intended to meet with him, your question seemed aimed at avoiding him. I do not think a disguise would be any use if you did, as your reputation would be needed to make yourself be heard. If you merely worry about him seeing you in the street, I doubt there is much risk. He is not the type to run his own errands. However, if you are worried, I suggest that you switch clothing with one of the men. Uniforms make for a very effective disguise.

Where in the city do you plan to take us? I would recommend Lady Samiya's manor, if you had not killed Isaac (no last name or title given?). He was a close friend, I have never seen her so enraged. However, she is generally pragmatic, so she may yet be willing to work with you towards a greater goal."

Velion gives Hurin a nod to concur.

[Zerkai]

"Not all challenges need to end in death, even if that's the norm. Not for my lack of trying, but father's ability to survive decidedly fatal wounds is impressive. Must be how he survived the dwarf that led the assault those years ago." She spoke up as she moved to follow, then she looked up at the other Hobgoblin with a glare as they moved.

"Wrong. I am the heir even if you do not acknowledge I am chief. Still, that's one of the reasons I kept father alive after all, since none in the clan saw the challenge."

[Thrair]

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Sorry for the delay in posts. Had a good number of hours at work the last couple days. And since today was my Birthday, had to field a bunch of calls from family. And I have more of it, so apologies if this is a bit rushed. I'll correct any mistakes later.

---------------------------------------
The second hobgoblin starts back at the tone in Sekla's voice. He then bows slightly in an informal acknowledgement. It's not a full gesture of respect due to a Chief, but it does signal that he accepts Sekla as his clear superior. He remains silent for the rest of the march, as does Kurat.

After some time, they approach a large clearing containing the encampment of the once-formidable Clan Bloodthirst. It occupies a plateau in a section of craggy hills, giving it a natural high ground, as well as access to several cavernous networks that lead underground. At the first glance, it is an exceptional Hobgoblin expeditionary warcamp. It is well ordered, well equipped, and fortified with a number of defenses. These include walls, barricades, and trenchlines to break up cavalry charges.

However, closer examination reveals some signs of weakness. The weapons, while thoroughly serviced and maintained, are worn; they show many marks of age and impromptu repairs. In addition, is is clear the camp is constructed for a larger force than currently occupies it. Were this encampment assaulted by a moderately sized force, it would be incapable of preventing attackers from bypassing certain defenses entirely. Lastly, there is a distinct lack of the usual ornament that would signify wealth and prosperity amongst a strong Hobgoblin clan.

As Sekla enters the camp, a number of guards stand to, and rush to the group. Sekla does not recognize any others in the approaching guard, but it is clear Clan Bloodthirst has merged with a number of outlying clans, so there may be more of the Bloodthirst she knows inside the encampment itself. Kurat signals them to stand down, and then goes to Sekla and whispers into her ear.
"Ok... first thing's first. We need the Chief's wounds tended to. If you're taking control of the clan, than so be it. Who knows, maybe you'll restore us to our old strength. But, with no witnesses to the challenge, succession will be smoother if your father openly cedes. Otherwise you'll be second-guessed until you win a few duels to demonstrate your skill. And, to be honest, we can't afford to waste lives like that."

There is no time for him to say more before the other Hobgoblins approach, eying Sekla warily. One of them walks up to Sekla and gives a neutral nod, a gesture of moderated respect to one not recognized.
"You're with Kurat, and bringing the Chief.... so I'm going to assume you're a friend to the clan. What's happened to the south? How's he been injured? His wounds look bad."
He then barks a command, and two of the guards begin to reach for Sekla's father.



---------------------------------------
"Yes. I intend to visit Lady Samiya."
Vectus begins to swap out some of his apparel for those of a generic Andoran soldier.
"The problem is I will not remain hidden while my country is crushed under the heel of a tyrant. I would rather die. And, while most of my tactics involve misdirection and subterfuge, I cannot fight this battle on my own. I must reach out to those in positions of power and authority, to convince them of the truth. And, as you say, my words will carry little weight without my identity revealed. I am not sure if Jorel's rage would outweigh his sense of duty and control, but I would prefer not to test it."

At this point, Vectus begins to change out his own outfit for that of a common Andoran soldier. He also used Prestidigitation to slightly darken his hair's colour, making his age less readily apparent.
"As for Archivist Isaac..... It was not I, to my great relief. I greatly respected him, and met his prior incarnation in my youth. Now... are you ready to depart? Where would you have us go? I will need to make two additional jaunts to teleport all present, and it will leave my spellpower somewhat depleted."


-------------------------
Lord Sorin begins to call over several aides to discuss the possibility of a famine, when a Sending spell enters the room.
"Sirs, reports from the Beacon indicate an attack from unknown spellcasters. Contact has been lost, and scrying attempts have failed!"
Both Lord Grallus and Lord Sorin utter equally bitter curses, before converging on the map.
"Well, Jorel? That marks two of the ley-lines, does it not?"
"Yes, dammit, yes!"

[TiaC]

Spoiler

Show

Happy Birthday!

"For our first contact, Lady Samiya would be best. It is her city and she can best assist us in contacting others. There are better options among the Chelish than Jorel, so our contact to him can be second-hand without problem. Lady Samiya's manor is on the island, if you could take us somewhere unlikely to be observed on the island, that would probably be best.

If I do not want to become a fugitive, I will need to report to General Isegar shortly. Do you have any advice as to the story I should spin him so as to avoid giving him the excuse for war?

I am ready to depart. I would ask that we bring Hurin. He saved my life when his master served with me. It seems the least I can do now that his master is dead would be to see to it that he has a home."

Velion shoulders his pack and whistles for Hurin.

[Zerkai]

Sekla gave a small bow of her head to the second Hobgoblin and started their walk in silence, looking around as they did so. At least this Hobgoblin understood that evne if she wasn't Chief, she was still the heir. So at least she'll have that till father recovers, and if he and the clan wishes, they can have another battle with witnesses.

She looked around the encampment with a small frown. It was orderly, disciplined, fortified, maintained, and everything she expected from her people, but they needed more numbers, and new weapons. Still, it was a good base of operations. The frown stayed on the hobkitty's face when she didn't recognize any of the faces that approached, it could be a problem, but she was glad to see other northern Hobgoblins. It had been some time since she had seen her own people, and so many in one place was a bit... jarring at first.

"Sekla Bloodthirst, of Clan Bloodthirst." She spoke up as she let them take her father, making sure to put emphasis on her surname - It being the same as her Clan name mean she was related to the Chief.

"It's a mess in the south, the Neutral ground is a massive crater, Cultists tried to instigate a war, and the Andoran Military is swarming all over. The situation here? Because I think we need to figure out who our allies are in this big mess."

[Reltzik]

Alstroemeria took a step away from the map, clearing the way for others who knew what was going on. Whatever this new incident was, she had nothing of substance to contribute to it, and so she sat back, watched, and listened.

Well.... she had ONE thing to contribute. But there was no way she'd do so with a hawk like the Fire Marshall present.

But whatever else, she would not allow herself to be separated from Grallus, without a few minutes of privacy.

[Thrair]

"I am less familiar with Samiya's residence than I'd like for the spell, especially as I must make multiple trips. However, I can get us quite close. A nearby villa, one belonging to a friend of mine." As he says this, a pained look crosses his face. "As for dealing with Isegar, I'd play up the cultist involvement. Make it clear that it was not a Chelish attack. Beyond that, tread carefully. The man has a way with words, and can play to the crowd. His martial law would otherwise have already resulted in open revolt. Be careful of that."

At the whistle, Hurin trots up and sits down expectantly, the picture of a well-trained hound.
"I can bring the Wolfdog, if you wish. I suppose I owe it to his master, myself. I understand this platoon helped secure my freedom, and many payed for it with their lives."

As he busies himself with the last minute preparations, the voice of Asdoril enters Velions mind.
"Well, Master Thornsen.... there is a great danger around General Isegar. But there is great opportunity, also. You have now been present at several notable engagements. Your competence, if perhaps not yet your heritage, is no longer in question. You may be able to use this to secure a position of authority. For us, and your kin. As well, Vectus cautioned you as to your actions if you wield power.... He clearly assumes you will have it. This is good for us. Grasp this chance!"

Vectus then strides up and orders a group of the soldiers to place their hands in a circle, as well as Velion. He then places his hands upon Hurin, and utters the incantation for Teleport. In a sudden shift, Velion finds himself in the familiar Ardellon cityscape, in the early hours of dawn.
"Here... under better circumstances, I hope. Unless you have objections, I shall return to transport the others now."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Yah, Asdoril kind of makes a lot of 'assumptions' about what Velion wants to/should do. Black Blades are kind of *******s.

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

The Guard-leader stares briefly at the mention of Sekla's full name, then bows deeply. "Malkri Ironhand, of Clan Bloodthirst. Our allies are the Andoran warmongers. They've use for us, and us for them. They let us to enter this lands after many of us were routed, along with our clans. In exchange, we fight for them, especially where they don't want to be the ones getting their hands dirty. Unless the cultists you're talking about come here, it's none of our concern."
He turns and commands his fellows to take Bloodthirst Senior to Elusra.

The name jars in Sekla's memory as one of the older clan members; an enormously competent Warmaster, skilled in field medicine and brutally effective with a Warhammer. She held her own against the Paladin of Sekla's memory longer than any, save her father. Before being cut down, she managed to land several heavy blows that greatly damaged the Dwarf's armor, focusing as she did on crippling an armored foe before going for the killing stroke.

"Well, Chieftan-Daughter, what brings you back to the clan? And how? From what I had heard from Kurat, you were lost in battle with the Scourge of Torag."



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

Grallus kneels down to get a better view of the table and map.
"Two such assaults in as many hours is no coincidence. And the prior attack left no survivors, or any bodies that have been capable of being raised. Our cultist foes would appear to be making some move."

His fist clenching, Lord Sorin presses his other hand on the table.
"Indeed. Keldrin! What were the most notable aspects of each lay-line?!"

A younger officer comes forward, somewhat warily, but with a glint of ambition at being recognized.
"The Beacon mostly seemed attuned to planar travel, particularly when attempting to shift beings and substances to their diametrically opposed plane. The Aboleth excavation site's attunement appeared to be towards increased effectiveness at manipulating the subconscious mind, but only for subjects with ancestry traceable to the Azlanti emprie."

"Little obvious connection, then. And little clue as to their next strike, if any." His hand strays to his spell component pouch, before he returns it to his side.

Grallus shifts back from the table and emits a low, grinding groan, akin to metal buckling under strain.
"I do not like this. What game are they playing? Have the security at the known lay-lines reinforced, and give orders for the first reaction to be the summoning of Zebub. We must have more information left from an attack than hollow corpses. I am returning to the Queensguard. Gorthoklek has not yet returned, and without his calming influence, I fear the Queen's ire may lead her to something rash."

At the last comment, Lord Sorin glares at the lower ranking aides who were close enough to overhear, his gaze pure venom. They quickly feign distraction before returning to their own discussions.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Questioning the Queen's judgement, even indirectly, is considered a very dangerous attitude. In practice, high-ranking officers and nobles can get away with it, as long as they show proper respect and are doing it in a fashion that suggests concern for the Queen. However, for a commoner or mere foot-soldier to voice such a suggestion (or even to agree with it) is considered borderline treasonous and well above their station.

[Reltzik]

"I will go with you, if I may," Alstroemeria says to Grallus. "If not into Her Majesty's presence, then at least to make use of your time until she receives you. There remains one item of a sensitive nature that I've yet to reveal to you. I suspect that the fewer who know of it, the better," this is said glancing at the various aides who might overhear and oversee... and deliberately NOT looking at Lord Sorin, "at least until what you determine to be the opportune moment."

[Zerkai]

Sekla's eyes widened a bit at the familiar name. So Elusra survived the battle as well? Though what else he was hearing was a bit... disconcerting.

"An honor to meet more of my kind on this continent. I was told father fell in battle with the... Scourge, was it? And after mother and my brothers fell, that I was the only heir left... I was barely an adult and had no leadership experience, and the other option was to join another clan. Instead, I spent the last two years trying to track down the Dwarf Paladin that lead the attack on our home." She explained her story as she continued looking around at the state of the camp and the direction her father was carried.

"If you're allied with the Andorans that are trying to provoke war... well that is going to be a problem. If I remember correctly, the cultists may be behind that. Some of them anyway... but I had heard of Bloodthirst attacking Andorans... and that you were allied with the Chellish. At least that's what Andoran citizens and soldiers believe."

[Thrair]

Malkri grins at Sekla, then breaks into a hearty laugh.
"Hah! Oh, I don't doubt it! For a while, there, both sides were paying us for work. Your father figured it was their fault for not making sure their contracts were exclusive... Oh, were some of them furious. In the end, the Andoran Chief overruled his advisors.... he said it was easier to just pay us a premium to make sure we took one side, than to try and arrest the entire clan. Before that, we were getting a good amount of gold. Badly needed, at that."
He looks around at the camp and his expression grows more somber. The other Hobgoblins begin to disperse and return to their work, as there is clearly no immediate threat.
"I'm sure you've noticed how things really look to a Hobgoblin's eyes. That damned Paladin you mentioned has been waging some sort of blasted crusade, trying to drive us out of the northern lands. And it's working. Your father was actually hoping he might convince some of the conquering warmongers down here to direct some of that attitude up towards the north. Make someone else fight our battles for us, while we rebuild. Come. Let's check on your father."

He leads the way into a camp, and most of the Hobgoblins seem to be at work inside smaller shacks or roundhouses, or deeper inside the caverns, which seem to have some stonework in progress. Stopping at one of them, he turns to Sekla.
"Fair warning, Elusra's mood's been foul since the battle. Heir or not, she'll give you a lashing if you don't stay off her bad side."

As they enter, a curse is heard. Sekla recognizes the coarse and commanding voice readily.
"Alright, I've got him patched up well enough, but he still needs some more. Someone worked him over with a heavy blade. A Falchion, maybe. Or perhaps a Broad-axe. Either of you get in my way, I'll turn you into a rug!"
The old matron turns and Sekla notices immediately that she's missing her left eye, and her left leg is equipped with a brace. Her fur, already salt-and-pepper before, is now a stark white. Despite this, her muscles remain toned and thick as ever. And Sekla can see her trusted Warhammer set at the base of the table, where her father currently lies. He's in the process of having his wounds bound, and the air is thick with the smell of herbal painkillers and fungicides.
"Sekla? You survived? How.... ah.... doesn't matter. For now, I have to work on your father. Some damned idiot set this splint improperly. Probably some idiot human, from the looks of it. Arrogant fools seem to think everyone else can be treated in the same way. If you have medical training, get over here and help. If not, stay the hell out of my way!"
She seems to be in one of her more pleasant moods. As Sekla remembers, she's always been fond of the sight of a well-struck wound, regardless of whether she was treating it or inflicting it.


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

Sorin stands up straight from the wartable, and walks towards the pair.
"Very well. You can fill us both in on this new intelligence once we are away from the ears of the aides. It had best be important."

Turning towards Grallus, he pulls out his spellbook.
"No word, then, from Gorthoklek?"

"Not since he returned to the pit, no. I believe he was reporting, or perhaps going to see how the interrogation of the traitor progressed."

[Reltzik]

Alstroemeria resigned herself to the Fire Marshal learning of the Hellstone's recovery. It was a less-than-perfect situation, but then, she had never in her life encountered a perfect one. Such was the lot of slaves. This was widely known and widely believed. Such was the lot, also, of ANY mortal. This was widely known and seldom believed, and a subject she had spent countless months drilling into her charges, when she had been a tutor.

She stood up, readying herself for teleportation.

[Zerkai]

"I think we should be careful then, with how big of a mess what happened south, they may look for scapegoats, especially if the they didn't tell the Andoran Military swarming around now that we're allies. In my experience Andoran humans aren't fond of us, to the point of being... irrational." She warned, as she had her doubts about the warmongering faction of the Andorans. Her eyes widened though at the mention of the Paladin.

"Really? I came to this continent because I heard word she had traveled here..." Then her focus was on Elusra commanding those around her, it was good to see her again. and that her injuries did little to stop her.

"A human did, though to be fair they only had a minute before we had to drag father out of the exploding mansion. And not as much medical experience as I like, but some healing magic left. I had been saving it since he seemed stable and I imagine the Andorans will make their way here soon. And... well, I wanted to get us here before father awoke. Our reunion was a... tense one. He was under the assumption that I abandoned the Clan."

[Thrair]

Lord Sorin flips through his spellbook for a few moments, before reaching the page he is searching for, then utters a small and potent incantation. He then closes the book and lays one hand, now glowing faintly, on Alstroemeria. With his other hand, he reaches out to Lord Grallus. Finishing the spell, all three are teleported to what appears to be an office of the Royal grounds. The magical jaunt is rather abrupt and altogether unpleasant. Something does not feel right, though it is difficult to say exactly what.

The office is extravagantly decorated with marks of both the Chelish Military and Glories of the Pit. On the wall can be seen both military decorations and the insignia of House Sorin. At Alstromeria's feet is a small platform marked with warding sigils, their purpose appearing to be the prevention of unauthorized teleportation.

Straightening, and holding his head, Lord Sorin turns to Alstroemeria.
"An unfortunate side effect of both the magical protections surrounding the Palace, as well as straining myself to transport the three of us."
A small chuckle erupts from somewhere behind the Golem's visor.
"I am rather inconveniently large, am I not? Now, then. We are alone here, and I know Sorin to have his Office warded against scrying and other mundane methods of eavesdropping. So speak freely, 'Farsighted'."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

The Incantation he uttered appeared to be some personal abjuration to allow a subject to bypass one's own spells. It is likely the duration is limited, and from the manner in which he cast it, there is a likely a requirement that the spell be cast directly by Sorin, himself.

I'm telling you this flat out for two reasons:
One, it saves unnecessary rolls during exposition.
Two, you've got a stupidly high Spellcraft/Knowledge (Arcana) check.

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

Malkri shrugs at the mention of Sekla's reason for entering this part of the continent.
"That's the problem. She is in this region. I didn't use the word 'crusade' lightly. If she'd just driven us out of our former homes, we could have resettled slightly further east or south. But she's chasing us down, slowly. Bitch has a grudge or something."

The wizened old Hobkitty calls over her shoulder, though her eyes remain fixed on her patient.
"That's the damned truth. If you are chasing her, don't show any mercy if you find her. She'll give you none. Oh, I hope someone of the clan sticks a blade in her, soon. I want to dance on her grave. You can, too. You've always had a talent for that sort of thing, Little Blood."
The chuckles faintly at her nickname, half-affectionate and half-mocking, for the adolescent members of the Clan. Her tone then grows rather more serious.
"Now... what's this with your father? Your words stink of euphemism. Don't insult me by trying to dodge around what it is you have to say. Speak plainly. What did you do?"

[Reltzik]

Spoiler: Banter

Show

you've got a stupidly high Spellcraft/Knowledge (Arcana) check.

I don't think that adverb means what you think it means. In fact, I think that adverb means the exact opposite of what you think it means.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I'm gonna take 10 on a very quick spellcraft/arcana/whatever check to see if there are any magical protections in place that will object to me from activating the fleshpouch. If there are, consider the following post inapplicable.

Alstroemeria reaches into her robe... slowly.... and muttered a command word. "Farsighted. It's an apt enough description of me, if one understands its origin. I suffer from hyperopia. I can see well at a great distance, but without lenses I can't read a book at closer than arm's length. It is in no way a boast of prescience or great wisdom. Just a taunt that my schoolmates stuck me with, in another age."

She was babbling. Lecturing on fine details. But it didn't really delay anything. The fleshpouch needed time to extrude.

"I must confess to one final element of prevarication. The item of interest I referred to is not, actually, an item of intelligence."

It was ready. Alstroemeria pulled the fleshpouch out of her robe, glad to have the Hellstone out of her body. Still moving slowly, she opened the pouch, extracted the stone, and handed it to Lord Grallus.

"In the event that you wished to keep its recovery secret, until an opportune moment presents itself. I apologize for delaying even these few minutes, but I am no master strategist or politician. I have only an inkling of what advantages of surprise on the field of battle it might offer if kept secret, or what measure of political stability it may offer if revealed. I certainly cannot gauge the two factors and weigh them against each other, nor would it be my prerogative to make such a decision. It is not my secret to reveal. It is yours."

[TiaC]

"I shall head to Lady Samiya's then to tell her our news and warn her of your coming. I am unlikely to stay too long though, so do not dawdle if you wish me to be able to introduce you. Do you know what the others plan to do?"

[Thrair]

Spoiler: Summary

Show

Alstroemeria: Delivered Hellstone to Grallus/Sorin, discovering it had been altered/manipulated. Then reported back to the head of House Leroung. Was then sent back to Lady Samiyas and linked up with Velion and Vectus.

Velion: Returned to Lady Samiya, noticing a great deal of unease in the street, as well as signs of worsening illness. Reported events to Samiya before Alstroemeria and Vectus returned. Following brief reunion, attempted to report to his Andoran superiors, only to find himself the highest-ranking officer currently awake in the city. Gave belligerent clerk tedious paperwork as punishment.

Sekla: Was alerted to an unsuccessful infiltration attempt by cultists during the night. Interrogated her Father, unearthing mutual misconceptions and disinformation. Eventually talked him down, resulting in him yielding to her as Chief. Sekla decides to return father as subordinate. Received message from friends in the city, indicating worsening situation and decision to move children to local church for safety.

[Thrair]

Lady Samiya stares across the desk at Vectus, her expression unreadable.
"Well, then... General.... I have given you, and your men, shelter. In return, you will fulfill your oath to aid us. You may begin by telling me what you know."

Vectus returns the stare with little more than a weary impatience.
"Very well. I shall begin with the events leading up to my capture."

"I had, in the course of the war, directed much of my attention to these new golems; and for ways to counter them. My studies led me, in time, to the principles of soul manipulation. Very similar, in fact, to that used by Daemons in the manufacture of magical items. This greatly piqued my interest, for Cheliax would never ally with such creatures. I reported my initial findings to the intelligence services, along with my intent to pursue this line of research further. "

"In hindsight, this was a mistake. Not a week later, a contingent I was leading was left exposed, and then drawn into heavy combat. This was despite our operational specialty being subterfuge and misdirection. We should not have been involved in direct combat. I recall Isegar to have been in overall command of that particular battle. The implications are, now, rather obvious." Vectus is nearly spitting Isegar's name. And his expression is one of utmost disgust.

"I was neither prepared, nor equipped, for such heavy action. Nor were my men. We did what we could, but with no reinforcements... there was little we could do. Especially when that fel fog rolled over the battlefield, obscuring sight beyond few meager meters. It is then that the cultists arrived, disguised in the heraldry of Andoran. They caught the Chelish forces by surprise, and we thought ourselves to be saved. But it was not so. As we began to assemble with our new "allies", they used the opportunity to strike as us from close range. Many of my men died with confused smiles on their faces. Myself, I was promptly struck from behind by one whom I had, moments earlier, shaken hands with as thanks for our 'rescue'. There must have been a toxin or spell upon the bolt, for I remember nothing else of that battle."

As Vectus continues to recall his account, his features take on a look of some relief. I would appear that discussing these events is, perhaps, giving him some peace or closure.
"When I awoke, I was in a temple dedicated to Trelmarixian the Black, the foul lord of pestilence; though there now appeared to be some higher object of veneration within that church. References were made to one called the Oinodaemon. Avanil was before me, then. He is a cleric of enormous standing in their clergy, if I did not misinterpret the accolades and devotion lavished upon him. It was he who ensorcelled me with a Geas. He used some fel rod bestowed upon him by either his church or god. It warped the Ioun Stone embedded within me, turning it to foul purpose. I was then sent about to eradicate my research, as well as kill those who had come to understand some of it. When finished with that evil task, I was unleashed upon the enemies of the Harbingers of Fate."

"Initially, my targets were men and women in Absalom; those opposing the Cult's rise to prominence. It was during this time that I was able to discern the nature of the new enchantment upon the gem. It harvests the souls of those slain, though I an uncertain to what purpose. Perhaps it is merely to prevent the resurrection of those slain... but I believe there is something more... something sinister."

"Regardless, I was soon sent against those abroad for my dark work, mostly to Cheliax and Andoran. In Andoran, the focus appears to have been eliminating opposition to Isegar, while my targets in Cheliax were those seeking peace. However, there were other targets, also: A merchant in Ardellon, one who I called a friend. Members of the clergy of Pharasma, also. An Inquisitor of Arshea. Even a Lord from Highhelm. The list is many, and I will sleep restlessly until old age claims my memory."

Vectus then tuns to Alstroemeria.
"I must, again, thank you for my freedom. I had begun to long for death to release me from my enthrallment, even if it doomed my soul to the very gem I carried. Now, I can exact retribution on those who have done this, and more. And perhaps avenge those fallen."

His eyes lose focus briefly, and his expression hardens.
"I do not excel in combat. Nor in leading great armies. I have always preferred to work in small groups... striking at targets of opportunity, or disrupting enemy supplies, logistics, and communication. Because of this, I knew each man and woman under my command intimately. They had served alongside me for many campaigns. Some, for many wars. I do not know if we can defeat these filth... but, I swear to you, I am willing to die just for the attempt."

[Thrair]

The Clerk begins dealing with the complicated and tedious paperwork with a look of severe agitation. He appears to be muttering under his breath very faintly in Orcish. After a moment, he heads to a back room to start searching for files he'll need for his reports. From the sounds of cursing coming from the room, it's clear this will make him work overtime.

As he does so, Asdoril speaks into Velion's mind.
"Well, Master Thornsen... have you given thought to my suggestion? We have rank and authority. Are we to use it? The more authority you have, the more we can accomplish. And if your goal is to overthrow Isegar, there will be positions open for you to step into. You have the skill, knowledge, and abilities. A bit rough around the edges, perhaps, but I can compensate for that. What say you?"

Another clerk interrupts briefly at this, before darting back out of the office on other errands.
"Major Thornsen, sir? I have awoken the Legate, he will be here shortly to congratulate you, sir!"

[Reltzik]

Alstroemeria paused in making notes. "Thanks are neither necessary nor appropriate. I acted solely out of my masters' interests, and it is to them that any gratitude is owed. I imagine that if you perceived such an opportunity to gain the sort of windfall of both intelligence and willing ally that you represent, you would have done the same. Whatever humanitarian motivations I might also possess, were not and can never be a factor in my decisions. But if your gratitude persists nonetheless, and if I may avail myself of it, I would appreciate your tutelage in expanding my spell repertoire. While I have a solution in mind to the recent outbreaks of these diseases, I can greatly improve upon it if I but had the ability to teleport more than a few hundreds of feet at a time."

Picking up her pen again, Alstroemeria returns to her notes. "While I know it will be painful, a full accounting of those you were deployed against should eventually be made. However, I do not think this needs to be done immediately. For now, we need strategic information. Anything you can provide. Anything you have observed regarding these cultists' command structure, internal stresses, identities of highly-placed individuals, or even low ranking servants of great import. Anything you have overheard or surmised about their ultimate strategic goals, or the gambits that they intend to employ to meet them... and especially their plans for the immediate future. And above all, what you know of their material resources, alliances, and especially bases. We should dearly like to know where they nest."

[Thrair]

The old mage shrugs.
"I do not feel myself to be an especially effective tutor. But I owe you much, I suppose. I only hope the knowledge I impart is used to benefit both our countries. Very well."

He pauses for a moment, and begins rotating the cylinder of his firearm as it rests in it's strap. It appears to be a form of fidgeting.
"As to strategic insights, there are some limitations. One sent away from Absalom, I was largely cut off from direct contact, being directed through Sendings. I suppose I was, at that point, expendable. Still, before that time, I was able to gain a few useful pieces of knowledge."

"Firstly, this cult is not fully unified. It is comprised of the Worshippers of three of the horsemen; that of War, Pestilence, and Famine. They are actively trying to force those of Charon's following to join them, but are being rebuffed. This is a potential weakness we can exploit. The longer we keep the two groups fighting, the better our chances. And there is disagreement enough between the members of each collective that we may be able to spark even more internal conflict."

"Secondly, they are engaged in an all-out war with Pharasma's clergy. Both sides appear to be striking at each other mercilessly. And yet, for some reason, the cult does not fear Pharasma's worshippers revealing their conflict. Possibly they have some source of blackmail, or perhaps this is just an example of that faith's stubborn fatalism."

"Thirdly, while they have members placed highly in many of the countries on this continent, they are mostly comprised of the citizens of Absalom. Their hold on that country is complete, now. The cult and Absalom are now one and the same. As to outside operatives, I am all but certain Isegar amongst their number, as are several high-ranking members of the Chelish military and noble houses. I have also heard references to some form of bargain struck with Razmir of Thronestep... that damnable charlatan."

At this point, he grabs a piece of paper and begins writing in a fine Elven script.
"This is what I can recall of a message I oversaw. Avanil was either too arrogant or sloppy to properly hide it from my eyes while ordering me about the temple. Perhaps both."

He then slides the paper across the table, and it reads as such:
Parasite of Trelmarixian, your offer was less tempting than you supposed. Ancient, I may be... but I refuse your filthy and cowardly escape. It is beneath my pride to whore my blood to your purposes. Perhaps you thought my trust as blind as my eyes. Perhaps you thought I would be unable to resist the temptations of 'immortality'. Or perhaps you simply did not expect me to be able to extract so much information from your petulant, sniveling, craven coward of a servant. I now know enough of your intentions to reject you, and your cult, utterly.

I am mighty and ancient, even among my kind. I will not die clutching to my material possessions, nor will I yield to undeath in the process of furthering your goals. I will die in glorious battle, worthy of song! And you have ever so kindly, with your most recent attempt to bind me, given purpose and direction to my wrath. You've no choice but to cater to my whims if you hope to achieve your ends. Prophecy is amusingly intractable, is it not?

S.

Vectus waits for Alstroemeria and Samiya to finish reading the note, before addressing the pair.
"I do not know anything of this 'S', but I do know their reply angered Avanil greatly. He slew the messenger who delivered it, for one. I gather the cult needs something from them, and cannot complete their designs without it. I believe it is part of some the ritual. Avanil mentioned needing to "Carve a symbol of each deacon into the world, then seal it in the blood of the Elders". As to what he meant by that, your guess is as good as mine."