When The Voice Whispers IC

[Glawackus]

Shrike turns towards Nader. "Oh, really."

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Rolling a sense motive to see if there's any lying going on here.
Sense Motive: (1d20+4)[21]

[Breten]

(( You sense no sign of deception in either of the two))

[Glawackus]

"Then you tell us what you think happened, Nader. And you will please neither the ancestors nor myself with any lies." Shrike says, dropping into a chair and crossing his arms.

[Morituri]

Alfred walks over to Eldon and, speaking to him gently, says, "May we see where you were wounded? You may still need healing."

As he takes a closer look at where the bolt struck the old man, Alfred turns back to the group, saying, "It sounds like that Changeling creature that the Bishop slew may have been involved in this. Nasty things, Changelings. Can't trust them at all."

Turning back and continuing to examine the old servant, Alfred resumes his gentle voice, "You're very lucky, and we should be able to undo all the damage those things may have done to you. For the rest of the trip, I feel that neither you nor Nader here should ever be alone if at all possible, preferably staying together or with armed guard escorts at all hours. Seems we are being targeted personally, and either of you could prove to be possible avenues for approaching and attacking our cart."

Turning back to the Bishop, Alfred asks, "Is there anything more you need of us, or shall we tend to our men for the evening?"

This whole situation is just... wrong somehow. Gnome spooks. Vampires. Vampire Hunting CLERGY. And, best of all, they're all after US. The sooner we're off this train and hiding in Sharn the better. ...And Host help me, but why is this man still alive...?

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Spot to notice any signs of fighting or injury on Eldon: (d20+14)[21]

[Breten]

Examining his wound you find a patch of skin a bit pinker than the rest, indicative of newly healed wounds.

[Derwood]

Thaddius d'Cannith

Eyebrow arching as all is revealed by the two servants, Thaddius pulls the small notebook from his concealed pocket and starts taking notes for possible future reference. Looking over the newly healed wounds and shakable set of circumstances he shakes his head and returns the book to it's pocket. Taking a deep breath and moving closer to his companions, "My friends, I do believe that we are at the mercy of a rather dubious set of fiends. Considering the fact that we cannot at the moment discern just how true to story any version of the events is, I think we would be best served by confining these gentlemen to individual quarters for the time so as to prevent any further harm to all parties involved. I'd rather be without someone to dress my bed than have to deflect daggers from my ribcage."

[Glawackus]

Shrike nods at this, the ghost of a smile playing across his face. "I, for one, can certainly live without all the comforts of...civilization."

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Morituri, care to be our door-locker? If Mort's so good at getting around the things, he can surely do the opposite.

[Breten]

The two servants are aghast at you having to go without the proper care, but glaring suspiciously at each other, they agree to be seperated and confined if only to protect you from the other, whom they are sure is an assassin.

Bishop Amaundo watches all of this with faint amusement. Then shakes his head.
Well this is entertaining....but I must be on my way. I can send a man with holy water, and any other such simple supplies if you wish. Please wait until atleast midmorning to make your move. Noon would be even better for you. As I said I need to be seen to be elsewhere when all of this happens.

With final nod in blessing, he hobbles out of the room.

Aundair

As you look through the records in the Library you find no one else accessing the tomes that Simeon had borrowed within six months prior. The only even remote resemblance of research was one brother who had borrowed a couple tomes on Ithillid detection and how to combat them.

When you ask Lyseki about the Eye of Heaven he scratches his beard for a moment and begins muttering to himself. After of few moments wandering the stacks listlessly, he snaps his fingers and wanders back into the restricted book section.

Why didn't I think of it before. The Mhrinn Diaries. It's not quite the same....but maybe it will help. This is a rare book, one of only half a dozen in all Khorvaire. Course the prophet was quite mad, so most people never bothered paying attention to him.....but someone actually thought to write his rantings down. now where was the passage?

Ah here.

"When the Vessel is filled, the search will begin.
And if the Flame should fail
Then Heaven's Eye will open
And Desolation will open her Mouth
And sing destruction

Its all quite nonsensical ofcourse...like most of these prophecies....well atleast until they come true. Then they make all to much sense. Still now, I can't say that this makes any sense to me.

He frowns at the shelf for a mintue.

That explains it...why it took me so long to find it. The book has been moved. It belongs down there.

[Morituri]

Alfred gives the two servants friendly smiles and shrugs as they leave, closing the door gently behind them and letting out a long sigh after waiting for them to be out of earshot. Turning back to his companions, now in the privacy of their cart, Mort shakes his head and says casually, "The help these days. What is service coming to?" Dropping into a chair and kicking back, he composes himself and then leans forward, still calm but now speaking frankly, "I do think they're both what and who they say they are; that Changeling was impersonating the old man earlier, why not the Boy too? But you're both right to be cautious, because something wasn't right about that story. I mean, we're on a Lightrail; if you're an evil cultist impersonating an elderly servant, why in the name of the Host would you bother healing your target up after shooting him in the side instead of, oh I don't know, kicking the body out of a door to feed up some local rats? Definitely odd, but I just don't know what to think, and I'd rather it be a problem that just went away."

Mort stands and begins to move over to the door, picking up a solid looking chair on the way. "If we're stuck here without servants, we'll need to swing by the mess car tomorrow morning and grab enough food to hold up for a couple more days. Preferably some of those butter rolls with the nice crumbly bits on 'em, those were amazing. We'll just tell the chef's that we're feeding some guests that evening." Mort reaches the door and, after making sure the handle was locked and any bolts secure, takes the chair and jams it in front of the handle [Strength Check: (d20+1)[15]]. Feeling satisfied after a few choice curses, he then moves over to a nearby wooden chest and begins sliding it towards the door to act as a second barrier. Between grunts, he turns his attention back to his two companions, "So. What's your take on the 'Bishop'? And I know my hands occupied right now, so I'll just let you know I was adding quotation marks around that when I said 'Bishop'. What do you think he really is?"

[Uncle_Putte]

"Ah... hmm. I do not see how we could find out who it was that last used the book, but at least nothing has been done to it. I hope. Mind if I have a look?"

Alestair proceeds to have a look at the contents of the Mhrinn diaries, first copying the previously recited passages into his notebook, then searching for other points of intrest while referring to the librarian's knowledge of the book in his work.

"I suppose our business here is nearing it's conclusion... I cannot think of any other leads we could follow here, other than making a report through the Eidolon, as well as requesting them to send references to the missing pages on the other book. About the Mhrinn diaries, though... which section was it in originally, and where was it returned to? Perhaps we should check it for tampering afterall."

[Glawackus]

"A bishop. We have reason to suspect that he is something other than what he seems?"

[Morituri]

"Well right, of course. It's just -oof!- I'm not sure what kind of churches you went to when you were a kid, but in the ones I was around -grunt!- the clergy never really came across as cold-blooded Vamp slayers, you catch my drift? I'm not saying he isn't one of the good guys -What, is that a knot in the floor?- but c'mon. There's more to him than we've been led to believe."

Standing and panting, Mort wipes the sweat off his brow and examines the newly fortified barricade. Opening up a drawer to one of the side cabinets, he takes a couple handfuls of silverware and spreads them on and around the door barricades, making a nice little half circle of space no one could possibly get through quietly. ...Probably. Most likely.

...S***, I could still get in here.

Standing and shaking his head at the impossibility of the situation, Mort turns back and shrugs, "I'm probably over thinking things. It's a survival instinct to assume everyone's trying to kill me. I'll take first watch if you want to catch some sleep. Or you probably don't sleep much, do you?"

[Breten]

Aundair

The book originally was shelved among "Prohecies of Madness" but was moved to in with a collection of Draconic prophecies

[Derwood]

Thaddius d'Cannith

As soon as the bishop leaves, Thaddius returns to his little work station and pulls out a box of charcol and parchment. Starting to sketch, he has a determined look on his face, as if he's trying to keep himself from worrying about tomorrows pending activities.

I don't like this. This was supposed to be a simple train ride, and it's turning into us clearing out a compartment of Vamps with little to no knowledge of what's going on. I can't help but wonder if this is divine providence or simply coincidence. I just wish I had my defender done before I left...

Looking up at Mort as he builds an ad-hoc barricade against one of the doors, Thaddius arches an eyebrow and looks to the ceiling and the sizable gaps running around the door that have not been sealed. "I think you might be wasting your energy on that door. These characters we're dealing with are unlikely to be hindered by a simple barricade. Also- I doubt we'll be able to do anything to seal the hatch in the roof."

[Glawackus]

"I have my trance in the evenings...it is similar to sleep. I agree with Thaddius, though. Closing off that hatch will certainly prove difficult, especially considering that it probably opens out."

[Miraqariftsky]

The stalwart soldier of stone and silversteel
Ever unwary of mysteries' feel
Knowing naught but sword's kiss
And simple healer's bliss
Off and asks
Without a thespian's masks,
"What are these Draconic Prophecies?
Answer me this, please"

[Breten]

The aged librarian looks over at the Warforged with a certain amount of surprise, then shakes his head and sighs.

The draconic prophecies are passages of writings that are discovered all over the world in various places, mostly written in draconic. They can be unearthed anywhere, written on walls in a cave, blazed with fire in the night sky, some even say that all the dragonmarks in the world combine to make some mysterious passage in the prophecies. When a piece of prophecy is uncovered it is sometimes written down and collected into written forms such as these books. The dragons guard their prophecy jealously, and collecting the prophecies can be hazardous to ones health. The largest fragements of it are said to be in Argonessen itself, where few from return from alive. In any case, I don't think that matters. It is not the draconic prophecies that you are concerning yourself with, it is the prophecies of madness.

Train to Sharn

((The hatch swings inward so nothing can block it outside in case of emergency. Physical barriers are not likely to prove very useful against supernatural foes. MAgic alarms or wards may. If it is vampires you are warding against then blessing the entrances with holy water, or hanging garlic would be the most effective route. When you are ready to move on to the assault on the cargo hold let me know.))

[Glawackus]

"Perhaps we could request some garlic from the kitchen cars?" Shrike muses. "In any event, I will take first watch."

[Uncle_Putte]

Alestair nods curtly, looking more or less nonplussed.

"Alright... I suppose that could be one direction to make headway to. I see no reason to believe the one to read the Mrin prophecies could be anyone from the outside, so we're left with Simeon for suspect. Considering him, I would risk to guess he might have left it there either as a hint or a slip of the mind, considering he was... aware of our arrival beforehand. But nevertheless, in either case, it would indicate that he considers the prophecies of the book to be either of equal reliability than that of the draconic prophecies, or even part of it. I realize this is propably going to be a steep request, but would it be too much to ask of you to lend the book to us? Researching it properly might be of importance, and as you said, access to it seems to be hard to come by. And the sooner the better as well. I feel a certain anxiety to follow what leads we have at hand before the tracks go cold."

[Morituri]

Holding out his hands in a submissive gesture, Mort shrugs and says, "Some people have security blankets. Wake me when it's my shift." With that, he walks to his bunk, throwing the sheets over hsi head and curling into a nice warm ball for the next several hours.

[I'm ready when you are.]

[Derwood]

Thaddius d'Cannith

Thaddius smiles at Mort and goes back to his work, struggles through a few more lines, and eventually gives up, going over to his bunk and pulling his bedroll over his head.

[Lets do this thing!]

[Breten]

((Okay sorry about that. I am now done running all over God's green earth for work and settling in for a more sane schedule for a couple months. Regular posting may now resume!))

Train to Sharn
The morning dawns grey and cloudy with drizzling rain. Not exactly the best weather for hunting vampires, but atleast nothing disturbed your sleep. YOu gather up your gear around 11 and slip out of the car, and at the first opportunity move to a ladder to climb up to the top of the lightning rail cars. Standing above the train you feel the wind blow through your hair, and watch the country side falling by at an amazingly fast speed. Below you the tracks spark and sizzle with arcs of electricity as the cars glide over them.

You carefully work your way backwards along the roof of the cars, counting them one by one until you find yourselves standing over the hatch of the car that was indicated to you by the Bishop. Mort's careful inspect reveals both a silent alarm, and some type of sigil trap placed on the hatch. Obviously they have thought of trouble arriving from above, and taken steps to protect against it.

Aundair
Brother Lyseki looks as if to protest such an outrageous request, but seeing his hesitence Tal steps in quickly.

Certainly you may borrow it, if you promise on your honour to return it when you are concluded with this matter. It is not considered valuable by too many scholars, but it is rare, so please return it.

[Morituri]

Clinging tightly to the various roofs as he makes his way along, Mort stands shakily above the hatch, pondering the best way to bypass its defenses. After several long moments of thinking (interlaced with several longer moments of angrily spitting flying insects from his mouth), he squats down, taking a series of thin copper tools from a strap against his leg. Glancing up at his friends, he motions his tools and quirks an eye, saying, "Without objections?"

[Disable Device time, unless my companions have a better idea (*crosses fingers* C'mon, flame strike on the ceiling, c'mon flame strike...). I'll take 10 on the silent alarm (if possible), though I think I'll have to chance a DM roll on the trap itself. I'm at +13.]

[Breten]

You bypass the alarm without setting it off.

Moving on to the more difficult task of the spell trap you begin to work

Disable Device(1d20+13)[29]

For a moment you work feverishly, attempting to disrupt the flow of magic around the symbol. Then suddenly you feel it disarm and you release a long breath.

[Miraqariftsky]

((Yey, the chief's back!))

"As you will" Wrath rumbles. He thumps his metallic chest to the sound of vials clinking and mithral cracking. "We will return it, as best as we could" Reminder to self: get repaired before next engagement. Am only at 75% structural integrity...

[Glawackus]

"All set?" Shrike asks, raising an eyebrow.

[Uncle_Putte]

((Yay indeed! The quiet bit as of late had me quite nervous. Here's for a prolific pick-up!))

Alestair accepts the responsibility with a nod and a few words; "I shall swear to do all in my power to return it intact. My thanks for the trust you place in me."

He then closes the book, picks out his blanket out of the backpack and wraps the book into it in a manner so meticulous it approaches ritualistic. The resulting tidy, if not a bit bulky, package he places back into his bearings.

"Father Tal, brother Lyseki, I thank you for all the answers you have provided tonight. While we may have missed our primary objective here, thanks to the trust you have afforded us strangers has made new goals open to us. And now, we at least know something of our enemy. I can't give much more than gestures of gratitude, but if it helps any, I also swear that I will not give down this quest as long as I draw breath and the threat of the Eye remains."

He pauses, perhaps for dramatic licence, before adding with a wane smile.

"You guess what I aim for, though - these are words of farewell. I can't think of anything apart from starting our journey towards Sharn that we could do here tonight. Assuming, uh, someone else has good ideas? Nevertheless, I would like to remain in contact with you and the monastery, since we both seem to be standing for the same cause. In case either of us make new discoveries, could we perhaps inform one another through the Eidolon Express? Speaking of which, we still have to make an urgent report back home. And, I suspect you should also give a good overview of the situation to the Aundairi officials. I do hope, though, that this shared awareness will lead into fruitful co-operation and not competition, as it feels somewhat like the Eye we are tracing seems to be something of an artifact of quite some power."

His voice trails off, and while the words seem more introspective, the point of discretion remains somewhat obviously underlined. After a while of deliberate silence, he proceeds to conclude;

"Nevertheless. Unless there is something yet to do before departure, we should do as the shifters say and 'go make tracks'. I bid for farewell and a victorious reunion."

[Morituri]

Wiping some of the accumulating sweat from his brow, Mort Glances back up at Shrike and Thaddius, giving a large thumbs-up. "The alarm was easy, but the trap gave me a bot of grief. We should be good to go in quiet and fast. Any last thoughts to share or spells to cast before I pop this box for you?"

[Glawackus]

"Melaer air taeresaer ail shyr: os os si aelaestia'm. Success is measured in blood: yours, or the enemy's," Shrike says. He closes his eyes and opens them again. "Today, I think, is a good day for someone else to die."

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Casting divine power on self.
BAB +10 (My regular BAB is +7/+2...I don't think I add 10 to each of these, do I? Perhaps +5/+5 for +12/+7? +17/+12 seems really high...)

STR +6 (Now 24, STR modifier +7)

1 temporary HP per caster level (10 temp HP)

I'll add a note here about changes to attack bonuses here once someone can answer that question about BAB for me.

Edit
Ohhh, now I see.

New stats:
Total Attack Bonus (Melee): +17/+12
Total Attack Bonus (Ranged): +16/+11

Total Attack Bonus w/ Sword, 2 Handed: +14/+7

If I did this wrong, holler.

[Breten]

It means that your BAB Becomes +10, to that it adds +10

It also add +6 go your strength and 10 temporary hitpoints.

Aundair

Father Tal nods his head at Aleistar's florid farewell.

Yes we will certainly inform the needed authorities, and if you want to be in contact with us you may do so through House Orien or Sivis, and we will pass on anything that we know. I pray that the Host Shine on you as you travel, and guide you with wisdom to avert this threat, whatever it might be. But i do suggest you hurry on your way, I fear your mere presence may be placing the Monastary in danger, and would ask you not to prolong that any longer than necessary, especially given the children here.