Blood from Stone
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 17 DC: 19 GAME: Ravenstongue casts Mind Blank. Caster Level: 17 DC: 26 GAME: Telamon casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 19 DC: 19 GAME: Telamon casts Mind Blank. Caster Level: 19 DC: 26 GAME: Telamon casts Greater Teleport. Caster Level: 19 DC: 25
The teleportation that Telamon casts puts you outside the castle walls some goodly distance. The cover of the 'lords forest' gives you cover for your teleportation, but you're on the edge of a broad field that purposefully (tactically speaking) separates you from your destination. There's the castle that you seek, placed on the top of a small plateau surrounded by slender streams of water that once might have offered a moat but that time is long since past. The back half of the castle seems to fold into the plateau somewhat, but there are six guard towers all told and no side of the fortress looks easily accessible, particularly with only one gate in the front by which you can see to enter.
The whole thing is massive, well fortified, and made of dark stone. In short, what one might have expected when one hears of a castle that was once made to defend itself against invaders.
The teleport goes smoothly, but as the bubble of bent space fades, Telamon looks a little twitchy. "Something felt funny near the end there. I'm kind of glad I didn't try to land us any closer." He runs his hands through his hair. Dressed down in utilitarian garb, rather than his usual finery, he looks... oddly unfinished.
Staring up at the stone castle, his brow furrows. "Gods," he mumbles. "You realize this is going to be a -very- tough walnut to crack? I'm starting to regret not trying to bring along an army. If only for a distraction."
Critias spends a few moments orienting himself and glancing over the others to see that everyone arrived. He flashes a quick nod at Telamon. Magic like this might be commonplace to experienced arcane practitioners...but it's still impressive when a trip that would otherwise take days or weeks, is shortened to an instant. His attention is next drawn to the castle. "I've been reminding myself," he muses, "To the thing is, we're not here as conquerers or invaders...we're here as thieves. Stealing from another thief, of course, but thieves nonetheless. It's not enough to infiltrate beyond the walls, we have to be able to search, and get what we came for, and then get it -out- of the castle."
GAME: Aryia rolls knowledge/engineering: (11)+3: 14
Cor'lana is shrouded underneath a dark black cloak, specially purchased for the occasion. Her long waves of hair have been braided up and hidden underneath a wig of dark brown hair, the kind that's easy for people to miss. She's even wearing glasses that she hasn't worn in quite a long time. They're small measures to obscure herself in the hopes of managing to get past the castle's defenses. Pothy, of course, has been left firmly at home.
There are no snacks in the Castle that the sorceress would be comfortable with him eating, anyway.
"We can find a way and figure it out," she says to Telamon. "I believe in the capabilities of everyone here. Ni'essa and Vaire will see us through."
She smiles, because she believes that. She has to, really.
Seldan stands in the cover of the forest, once he's recovered from the disorientation of the teleport, surveying the monolithic structure with a steady, thoughtful gaze. Although all present have seen him use magic to conceal his armor's true, opalescent form, today he has opted for something a good bit more mundane - black cloth sleeves attached to and covering each piece. He had considered bootblack, he said of it, but the armor is enchanted to keep itself clean. He has opted for dark browns and blacks in his clothing choices, an option that turns his fair skin positively pale, and that he has worked bootblack into the fair ginger hair as well does not help the look.
"Once before have I done something akin to this," he observes quietly to the others. "Many forms there are, of stealth, and not all involve skulking about. As to the matter of thievery, we but take back what should never have fallen to Ea." He reaches up with a leather-covered, gauntleted hand, and strokes Tanith gently. "Do we choose stealth, we move in the hours just ere dawn, when the watch will be at its least attentive."
Aryia lets out a breath as the party gets to the edge of the forest. Rope is coiled around her from shoulder to hip. Her eyes staring up at the castle with a scowl. "... I agree. Best bet may be to just.. pick a wall and break it open? Or climb it?"
She rubs her arms before signing more. "This place makes me feel all unbalanced. But, yes, I agree with Critias."
She rubs her cheek, squinting. "... moats are nearly dried up. No sewage entrances that way." She looks over her shoulder to the others, blinks at the little dragon with them, and tilts their head before giving a little wave. "Choose stealth. Perhaps night may give us best cause."<Handspeech>
Tanith looks up from the slight touch of Seldan's fingers and the castle in the distance. She veritably vibrates with intensity. "I can make us not-seen." She offers quietly, but she seems somewhat uncertain about this. "At least for a while. This place... It doesn't like me." She seems a bit sad by this statement. "I will help!"
GAME: Aryia rolls knowledge/military theory: (15)+3: 18 GAME: Seldan rolls perception: (15)+25: 40 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception: (19)+21: 40 GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (18)+25: 43
There's something strange about this castle that you can't put your finger on. Something more than the uneasy feeling that lingers as you watch the guards come and go. You look for some sign of a routine; anything - but none presents itself. What you do notice however a few moments before dawn, as the sun begins to think about rising, that a few people are exiting the castle - not through the main gate - but rather through a place in the wall. It's almost too distant for you make out the exact location, but these people are clearly servants. Some kind of servants entrance to the castle then?
As time ticks on through the night, Aryia watches, the night not really bothering the shadow elf. "... weird..." she idly comments, tapping her cheek as she watches. "... they're not changing based on schedule. Saw one pass every five minutes. Then just... nothing. Military place. No nobles. But... servants? Is that servants? Why?" she gestures slowly, lying prone on the ground with her eyes squinting. "... a.. prison? A prison? I think it might be a prison." <Handspeech>
There's time to sleep, to eat a small meal, and to watch. Telamon expected as much, but it's clear that he's not used to 'roughing it', only getting sleep by curling up next to his wife. But observation in the dim hours of the evening does have its benefits. "Hm," he murmurs quietly, watching the people step out. He glances at Aryia. "The castle wasn't originally built as one. And converting it to one without the use of magic might mean there are flaws we can exploit." He taps his chin. "It makes sense, though."
"Even so," Seldan breathes, very, very quietly. "This must be where he keeps those he would not have interfering with his plans," he murmurs. "Our goal remains the Star, but any we may free might teach us much. Still is there a risk. I would not have him know even that there are any he does not see."
"A servants' entrance might be our best chance," he looks over at Telamon. "The servants will know who is normal, and who is not, and even they may well be watched."
He turns his head, then, towards Tanith. "Tanith, can you get a closer look at the servants, without being seen? Are they malnourished? Ill-treated?"
A prison? That piques Critias' interest judging by the raised eyebrows. But not originally one? That seems to fascinate him even more. He spent most of the intervening time observing, occasionally moving off in another direction in the trees - as quietly as a ghost, and always returning after only a few minutes - and conferring with the others. "That's a fine idea," he nods approvingly. "I was hoping there might be someone in the castle, who wouldn't be out of place but at the same time wouldn't draw notice. Servants would be perfect. We can hide in plain sight." He hesitates and then asks, "As the expression goes."
Cor'lana, curiously, doesn't partake of food nor drink. She watches with Telamon through the night. "Didn't you-know-who seize it from the family that originally owned it?" she asks, looking at Telamon. "I remember you mentioning something about that. I could see someone very... vindictive, or petty, turn a castle belonging to an enemy into a prison."
She frowns, reaching out and patting the slightly sleepy Telamon. "Our golden-scaled friend would be an excellent infiltrator, I think," she says.
Tanith perks up, she's been BORED this whole time, sneaking around the small camp and trying to stay out of the way, but this? This is something to do! "I will look!" She disappears and is gone for a little bit. Returning a few moments later by crawling around Seldan's boot. "Peoples look sad." She says sadly. "They don't like the place either. They were complaining about it. Very hungry peoples, they looked hurt - some of them? Not happy at all. I don't like it." She seems to think about flying but then thinks better of it and nudges Seldan's boot instead like a cat trying to rub itself on a person's leg.
Aryia scratches her head as she hears others' suggestions. Whatever Lana wasn't going to eat, Aryia offers to take that share. Which she was currently monching down on some cheese and crackers. She watches the little one go, curious, before Tanith gives her report.
She pauses. "... I could maybe copy their clothes?" she suggests. "But I don't know how well accessing my magic bag will work here." To accent her point, she holds up a simple sewing needle. "This is not the first time I've made costumes." <Handspeech>
"I like the plan so far, but I think we need more than their clothes," Critias pipes up. "We need their knowledge. They can tell us what they would normally do, and then we can use that to blend in. Perhaps even they can give us an idea where to search. Or at least to rule out some places."
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Diplomacy: (3)+31: 34 GAME: Aryia rolls craft/tailoring+2: (19)+22+2: 43 GAME: Aryia rolls sense motive: (14)+27: 41 GAME: Telamon rolls talky: aliased to diplomacy+5: (20)+32+5: 57 GAME: Critias rolls diplomacy: (5)+25: 30
Seldan, who appears to be entirely used to roughing it and therefore looks quite fresh and unperturbed, reaches down to scoop up Tanith, setting her back on his shoulder. "Thank you, little one, that is very helpful information." He looks over at Critias, and nods. "They will also know if they are watched, and who might be doing the watching. Much will they know."
GAME: Seldan rolls sense motive: (2)+24: 26 GAME: Telamon rolls detectBS: aliased to sense motive: (16)+25: 41 GAME: Seldan rolls diplomacy: (11)+22: 33 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls hmm: aliased to Sense Motive: (6)+27: 33 GAME: Critias rolls sense motive: (1)+18: 19 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Critias rolls sense motive: (3)+18: 21
Critias seems to think of something and gives Tanith a long look. "You've been very helpful, but once inside the castle it would be best if you stay with the esteemed Silver Guard --" he inclines his head in Seldan's direction," -- at all times. If you must separate from the rest of us, you have to at least wait for him to come with you. Would that be acceptable?" He pauses for a moment and then elaborates. "If what we've heard about Grauthis and his Sight is true, we wouldn't want you to test your powers against his."
The group of you moves and intercepts the servants. It doesn't take long to uncover information from them. Including that one of their number is actually a guardsman who's job is to take the servants back and forth from the village to the castle. He doesn't know much about the interior of the castle, but he's willing to take you inside the castle for a price. It's not even that much money all told.
To be safe, you teleport the servants to Alexandria, promising them a better life than what they're used to here. They take you up on it eagerly, and Aryia quickly copies their clothes which is... largely adding holes and dirt to the clothes you guys have on hand for yourselves. It's not pleasant being covered in dirt, but it gets you into the castle.
The guardsman leads you into the castle proper - as is his job, and explains to you in short that your 'job' is to keep to the servants passageways and clean the castle alongside serving the guardsmen who work here their various meals. Food is to be kept up all day long, so it's a constant task to keep the guardsmen fed. He also warns you that since you're the _only_ servants in this task, that if you don't do something about that... that in an hour or two - someone will notice that something's up.
Tanith hunkers down on Seldan's shoulder, invisible it seems to everyone but you. Actually... she seems to be napping.
GAME: Telamon rolls profession/cook: (20)+14: 34 GAME: Telamon rolls craft/alchemy: (6)+21: 27
Occasionally, Telamon is prone to overdoing it. While he's never -deliberately- disruptive, sometimes he puts his shoulders into it (figuratively speaking) and... the result is impressive.
As 'the new cook', Telamon is swiftly cooking a barbeque chicken noodle soup -- a strange fusion but one that's easier to make than expected... and easy to 'accidentally' adulterate with a couple alchemical additions. Soon, the guards are happily lining up for bowls of a soup that is rapidly and painlessly easing them into a blissful sleep, one by one. It even tastes amazing.
"Next time," Telamon muses, "I might add a little red pepper. Just for some zing."
Meanwhile, Seldan undertakes the cleaning of the rooms and servants' passageways. It's not easy to remind himself not to use magic to do this, but it is a quiet job that means no one will want to touch him - and in heavy armor and with a sleeping dragon-let on his shoulder, that's very much better for being the case - and it is one to which he is no stranger. Indeed, the entire affair stirs other memories - much younger ones - that leave him quiet, his shoulders unconsciously hunched. Just a little. He explains to no one.
Cleaning? Aryia can clean. That's one job she can at least do very, very well. Especially after that shameful display of having to make /bad/ clothes. Her mother would never let her hear the end of it.
But then she has to clean up the kitchen where all the guards are. She dumbly blinks at the results. How did they get this far?
Learning that they are tasked with cooking meals for the servants, Cor'lana hops into action to assist her husband by serving it to hungry castle-workers. There's so much. So much soup. So much chicken.
Pothy will be so upset he missed this meal. Or maybe not. There is, after all, a _secret_ to the secret soup.
"Good work, darling," Cor'lana compliments her husband. Maybe all of those hours of feeding Tanith by cooking for her was actually training for this moment. Once the 'lunch rush' is done, she goes to join Seldan, observing him in his quietude.
"Are you joking?" Critias asks Telamon as he watches a guard come by again - and for the third time, if Critias is not mistaken. He's been studying each eater closely, doing his best to memorize their faces and anything they happen to say. Crit's own mouth has been watering for the entire time, purely from the smell. "It's perfect. They love it. Just look at them." Then having delayed as long as he can, Critias leaves to make his own rounds. He carries a gigantic bowl of stew with handles on the side and a heavy lid tight on top. His excuse is to take it to the guard towers, and he does indeed head that way. He's not comfortable with leaving the sorcerers on their own in the middle of enemy territory as it were, without access to their normal tools. But Telamon at least seems to have them eating out of his hand. Quite literally.
Tanith rouses a few times during the cleaning, but largely remains seemingly at ease if not entirely exhausted during the day. By the time that Telamon is done putting the largest portion of the guards to sleep, she's still napping on Seldan's shoulder. She doesn't seem interested in his chicken soup (good thing it's not a fish dish).
The word of mouth around the castle alongside the mobile unit of Critias bringing the food to others means that even the guards at the front gate on duty are fast asleep by the time that you are done.
However this leaves you largely free to explore the castle... at least for a while.
GAME: Seldan rolls wisdom: (5)+5: 10 GAME: Seldan rolls wisdom: (14)+5: 19 GAME: Critias rolls knowledge/engineering: (6)+9: 15 GAME: Aryia rolls knowledge/geography: (10)+3: 13 GAME: Critias rolls knowledge/geography: (18)+12: 30
Later in the day, Seldan returns, his clothing quite dirty, his entire manner more quiet and subdued than usual, but all he needs to do is follow the scent of cooking back to the kitchen. "One of you is a fine cook indeed, judging by the smell-" He stops short at the masses of sleeping guards and servants in the break room. He looks back and forth among those present. "I pray that this is not dangerous," he adds, in a very different tone.
"Our goal lies near the center," he tells the others. "Are there forbidden or secured areas near the center of this castle?"
Aryia nods heavily with Seldan, agreeing that it is a job well done indeed. At the information of the center of the castle, the mute with a broom taps her chin. "I.. think a layline goes right under here. Maybe exactly where you're talking about?" she motions, hiding her signs to keep to just the party. <Handspeech>
Critias says, “The layline passes exactly in the center of the castle." He looks at Seldan and Aryia. "That could explain what was the purpose in taking over this castle and turning it into a prison. Some prisoners would never be able to escape. I would be helpless, as well as most adventurers I know. Even rescue would be difficult." He looks around at the others and then quirks his lips into a small smile. "Difficult, but not impossible.”
"Telamon is a very accomplished chef in more ways than one." Cor'lana grins. "It'll be fine." Probably.
She looks to Aryia and frowns. "If it's in the center of the castle, and that dovetails nicely with the areas that we're not supposed to be in... That seems to indicate where we ought to be going. It also means we'll have to be very careful and very smart about what we're doing if magic's not an option there."
Cor'lana thinks a moment more. "I wonder if it's the leyline or what's there--_if_ it's there..." Then she shakes her head. "Just a thought."
Telamon actually looks a trifle offended. "Really, Sir Knight, you don't know me very well. I wouldn't -poison- them. Such a thing would be dangerous, not to mention unethical -- and remember, I -teach- ethics. No, I simply salted the soup with a blue whinnis extract mixed with a bit of something I picked up from Grandfather's garden." His dark eyes twinkle. "They'll wake up eventually feeling great -- except they'll probably want to find new employment, as their boss won't appreciate them sleeping on the job."
He listens to Critias's comments on the matter, and nods slowly. "Well, that kills any desire for me to play with so much as a cantrip until we're well away from here. But, it does suggest where we need to go."
Seldan merely _eyes_ Telamon for the space of several seconds. In his normal guise, this would not be anything remarkable, but the too-pale face and the too-black hair lend it a mildly sinister air. He seems entirely unaware of this, however, and finally inclines his head. _This is not the time for this discussion,_ the gesture reads. "Let us be swift. How long have we?"
The group then moves carefully and surely to the center and lower portion of the castle. Taking servants corridors and stair cases where necessary. Eventually however it's clear that you are no longer in areas where even the servants would normally be welcome.
Tanith falls into torpor, and ceases to rouse herself from her slumber as you do so, and after about fifteen minutes of moving through the castle you find yourselves rounding a corner to a lower section which seems to be labeled 'Museum'. The heavy door to this area is both locked and seemingly unguarded, but secure and would likely be difficult to force entry through.
GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (2)+25: 27 GAME: Seldan rolls perception: (17)+25: 42 GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (5)+34: 39 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception: (13)+21: 34 GAME: Critias rolls perception: (8)+25: 33
Aryia's fingers twitch at every turn as they continue on. Her tension only growing further as Tanith seems to be completely out of it. But then they come to a door. A heavy, heavy door.
The boulder punching pugilist is about to suggest just that, but her eyes flick to something down at the ground level. "Contact behind the door," she motions carefully. <Handspeech>
At Aryia's words, Telamon immediately goes silent and steps away from the door to give Aryia and Seldan room to work, as needed. His fingers dance in the patterns of Handspeech in turn. "I suppose knocking is out of the question." His eyes move to Seldan, and he tilts his head inquisitively, before signing to him, "Your call, sir."
Whatever it was, Seldan seems to have seen it as well, for he holds up a hand and points to something at the bottom of the door. There's something - off about this place, and the lack of magic creeps nastily into his bones in a way that is not entirely unfamiliar, but that brings some unpleasant memories to mind. He eyes Telamon in puzzlement, then shakes his head and gestures to Critias, miming them starting a fight. He then points to Aryia, and then to the door.
GAME: Seldan rolls bluff-3: (2)+15+-3: 14 GAME: Telamon rolls detectBS: aliased to sense motive: (12)+25: 37
Critias purses his lips in thought. He raises a hand to draw attention and then switches to handspeech himself. "Knocking may be out of the question, but surely there may be other reasons someone would come down here that don't draw suspicion. If it is treated as a vault," he eyes the door where it says 'museum', "Security would be important thing to them, and they might open up if they thought that the security was compromised." He thinks a bit further, watching the signals of the others and then adds. "Perhaps also if they had reason to believe we were bringing something to be deposited?" He turns slowly at the latest signs from Seldan and then looks at Aryia. "Stage a fight? Is he asking us to stage a fight?" He looks back at Seldan, then at Aryia again. "Or to really fight...?" <handspeech>
Big, heavy, wooden door. Cor'lana squints at it behind glasses that she hasn't needed for quite some time.
She pulls out the spidersilk rope and hands it to Telamon, miming for him to take it and stand on the other side. It's the oldest trick in the book.
Trip whoever's on the other side with a rope on the low.
Cor'lana smiles mischievously. It's the feytouched side of her.
Aryia's brows shoot up as she looks to the signed conversation and gestures from Seldan. "Start a fight? Fuck yes. Finally."
She looks at the party. Stops on Seldan. Looks disappointed for /some/ reason as she changes her gaze to Critias. Gives him the 'watching you' fingers before slinking into a corner. <Handspeech/Tongues>
Seldan thinks a moment, then loudly slams a gauntleted fist into the stone wall, shifting into a rough language that has nothing to do with Tradespeak. "I'll rip out your beard and give it to a spinster for baby blankets! Come here and face me!" In deep contrast to his quiet footfalls coming down here, he's suddenly loud enough to echo off the stone walls, slamming that gauntlet into the wall again and lunging for Critias. <khazdul>
Critias looks at the rest of the party. He's starting to understand the plan, even through Seldan's rather...unorthodox, version of handspeech. Critias rolls up his sleeves and loosens his collar while he looks to one adventurer after another. Is this really what they're going with? Very well. Somewhat readied, he stands in front of Seldan in a fighting stance, fists raised. He tenses in anticipation. He eyes Seldan's armored arm. Visibly lets his shoulders slump, and bounces silently on his toes to relax further. And then takes up his fighting stance again. Finally, eyes locked on Seldan's, Critias taps one finger on his own chin, as if to say 'right here'. And then Critias' eyes fly open as the Paladin lunges for him. Be careful what you ask for.
GAME: Seldan rolls weapon3-3: (15)+26+-3: 38 GAME: Seldan rolls 1d3+9: (1)+9: 10 GAME: Critias rolls weapon0-2: (3)+20+-2: 21 GAME: Critias rolls 1d3+6: (1)+6: 7 GAME: Telamon rolls Strength: (6)+1: 7 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Strength: (4)+1: 5
Several things happen as the fight between the two adventurers breaks out. Seldan scores a good tap on Critias, and the man tries to return the favor... only he misses. His hand slides along the shoulder of Seldan's pauldron and knocks poor Tanith off his shoulder.
The sound of fury rises from Seldan's shoulder and Tanith awakens. "OW!" She screeches, rubbing her poor tail and looking at Critias in a way that _promises_ an unhealthy amount of revenge.
Meanwhile the door opens, and out pops the head of a man who steps out and pulls taunt the rope that they'd placed along the edge of the door. The pair of sorcerers stumble trying to keep the rope taunt and both fall to the ground instead. Which draws the eye of the guards who are in charge of the room.
In other words, a lot happens all at once.
GAME: Telamon rolls spaceBS: aliased to Bluff+3: (17)+28+3: 48 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+26: (12)+26: 38
Telamon mouths a particularly nasty curse as it seems Lana and himself did not account for this part of the plan: namely, being strong enough to actually -trip- whoever comes out. Alright, let's make a new plan! "Sir! Hurry! They're going to make a mess if we don't break them up!" His tone is servile and frightened, laying it on with a trowel as he conveniently stumbles backwards out of arm's reach of the guard.
GAME: Aryia rolls cmb+1: (14)+25+1: 40
Aryia blinks at the madness going on, her brows furrowing as she sees Tanith bopped. The door pops open. Without a second thought, she leaps from her corner and throws her weight into a double cocked dropkick.
It doesn't get them knocked back as far as she thought, like the other guards. Oh damn. These guys are going to be good. She grins and raises her fists. Been a while since she's had a good fight.
The pugilist cracks her neck, rolls her shoulders, and bounces on her feet.
GAME: Seldan rolls will: (4)+34: 38 GAME: Seldan rolls will: (7)+34: 41 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+40: (7)+40: 47 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+40: (1)+40: 41 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Aftershock rolls 2d4+23: (5)+23: 28
Oops. He'd forgotten about Tanith until dragon claws scraaaaape across his armor with a squeal. He'll have to have that fixed later, but for now-
Swiftly, he turns around and reaches. for Tanith to set her back on his shoulder. "The fault is mine, little one," he says quickly as the door swings wide - and it worked! There are guards! Nasty ones.
Swiftly, he rasps Reunion from its sheath in a scrap of leather on metal, and as usual, it greets the group in general.
Except that it isn't just Kanian's voice. It isn't just Fallia, or any of them.
It's not six voices. It's closer to half a hundred. All of them shouting different things, from insults to war cries to prayers for protection to admonishments to scolding. No one voice is distinct, and yet it is everything all at once. A truly overwhelming sound, audible to all present. Seldan _freezes_ in place, stiffening, but this time, he keeps his wits, steeling himself and moving to back up the mul'niessa.
The guards move, each drawing their swords and attack Aryia almost in unison. One of them hits the door to the room, chipping away a massive piece of the door. The other scores a hit on Aryia, and leaves her bleeding from a nasty gash.
GAME: Critias rolls ranged-2-4: (10)+16+-2+-4: 20 GAME: Critias rolls 1d20+2+2: (2)+2+2: 6
"Sorry Tanith!" comes a hissed whisper. Then: "Did it work? I can barely see!" The words are just ever so slightly slurred, through a numbed and already-swelling lip courtesy of Seldan. Critias casts a quick glance that way, then double-takes when he sees Seldan freeze then start moving again. He wonders what that could be all about. But no time to ask. "Cor'lana! Switch places with me!" It's something he's done before, perhaps even with her, and as they do indeed swap places Critias can suddenly see much better. In the seemingly the same motion he draws his bow, knocks over his head and pulls as he lowers his arms to aim, and then fires. But to no avail. He's not used to fighting - or even shooting - like this and it shows.
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Charm Monster/Persistent. Caster Level: 17 DC: 24 GAME: Seldan rolls will: (14)+34: 48 GAME: Aryia rolls will: (16)+19: 35 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+17: (8)+17: 25 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+17: (15)+17: 32 GAME: Critias rolls will: (1)+19: 20 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Seldan rolls will: (3)+34: 37 GAME: Aryia rolls will+4: (18)+19+4: 41
The chips are down on the floor. Cor'lana does what she does best in a moment of panic. "What would Mother do?" she murmurs.
She doesn't know why she asked. She knows exactly what Mother would do. Especially with how oddly bolstered magic seems in this moment...
Cor'lana gets up to her feet. She murmurs a spell. Something much more powerful and more effective than it ought to be. Words that make her whole being seem so much lovelier and pleasing to the ears and eyes even though nothing about her has changed. The dark-brown wig and the glasses make her look a little more 'cute' than she might ordinarily? Or so she hopes. She doesn't understand that bit herself.
But either way, she bats her lashes and smiles so sweetly at the guards. "Oh, please don't!" she says. "Please don't hurt anyone. This is all one big _misunderstanding_. Surely we can all be... friends? Really, really good friends?"
What kind of friends, Lana???
GAME: Telamon rolls Will+5: (7)+19+5: 31 GAME: Telamon rolls Will+5: (1)+19+5: 25 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Telamon rolls talky: aliased to diplomacy+5: (5)+32+5: 42
"Yes, yes!" Telamon is speaking loudly, as he conveniently crowds up next to his wife, his eyes perhaps a trifle unfocused. Evidently that spell went a little... wild. "Let's stop fighting. Put down our swords, maybe go down to the pub, have a pint, and this can all be brushed over." His smile is winning, his posture open and welcoming. Surely he's being reasonable with everyone present.
Uncertainly at first, the guards lower their swords and then smile warmly at Cor'lana and Telamon. "A beer? I haven't been to a pub in AGES." The first one says, sheathing his sword. "And with such a pretty lady? It'd be a pleasure!"
The second man is sheathing his sword too, moving through the doorway and offering both Cor'lana and Telamon his hand. "I'm Balefor and this big lug is Hannok! Any friend of a lady this pretty is a friend of ours right Hannok?"
"Right!" Friends - made.
Aryia grimaces as a blade expertly slices along her side. Shit! These guys were tough! Hell yeah, it's been such a long while since she's had a good fight--
Reunion's echoing voices make her flinch, confusion mount as to what was going on. And just when she thought no magic would be used... a blast wracks her mind, and she just barely able to keep her eyes from being drawn to Cor'lana. _Not my type,_ she thinks to herself, shaking her head off.
And then a ceasefire? A ceasefire? First she can't punch Seldan, then a ceasefire?? A sigh escapes her, and her hands drop. She gives a dejected wave in a friendly greeting.
Critias puts away his bow. Shame-faced. Not because he missed his shot widely, uselessly. But because he was fighting, at all when Cor'Lana said they shouldn't have been fighting. How could he have misunderstood so badly? Cor'Lana said it was a misunderstanding, and she was right. Critias clearly misunderstood. He almost wants to run away. But Cor'Lana might not like that. He looks at the guards, and then the others. But mostly to make sure they are listening to Cor'Lana. They should all be listening to Cor'Lana, at all times. Everything would be much much better if they all just listened to her. Beer? Pub? Wait a second Cor'Lana didn't say anything about getting beers...or did she? Critias snaps his gaze back to Cor'Lana, lest he miss something she says or does.
The spell washes over and past Seldan, not really touching him, but its effects are evident to him in a matter of seconds, as is the wash of magic. The good news for everyone is that he, too, is silent, staring down at the blade in his hand, but seeing that the guards are charmed and the fight is apparently over, he lets out a quiet sigh and sheathes his own blade in turn. Instead of speaking, he looks from face to face to face, waiting for a signal or opportunity to peer in more detail through the door.
"A drink at the pub sounds like an awful lot of fun," Cor'lana says sweetly. She continues to bat her eyelashes at the guards. "But we've got things to do before we can do that. That being said, maybe you both could... help us along? Let us go into the Museum? Maybe even escort us and give us a tour?"
She's so sweet as she adds, "I really, really, _really_ want to look at what's inside. I'm so _curious_. And it'd be such a _good time_."
That would be coming on a little strong normally, but charmed spells tend to reduce men to the very... very basic versions of themselves. Or so she's hoping.
"Absolutely!" Telamon thinks this is a capital idea. Of course, his wife is the wisest person he knows. He's so lucky to be her husband. He puts his arm around Cor'lana's shoulders, but he waves his free hand in a cheerful way. "Ah, good men, good men! A pleasure to meet both of you. I'm sure you could give us the tour, keep us out of trouble? We wouldn't want to cause Lana-- I mean, you, any problems, after all."
The two men look at one another uncertainly. "We're not really allowed to go deeper into the castle... But..." They look at Cor'lana again and seem to sigh in unison. "Well, we wouldn't want that! No, we'll keep you out of trouble lady!" It seems Telamon's on the right track.
They show you in, and the room is actually empty, but as they lead you further into the area beyond there seem to be other rooms beyond. Each one has a single case in it. In the first case is a single golden thread which seems to be somewhat unraveled. In the next, a full-length mirror which shows no reflection. Beyond that a staff is on display - none of these things with any sort of explanation on their displays. Next is a glass case inside which is a ball of light. Then beyond that a simple black mask. At the end of these items is a doorway barred and sealed which the two men stop at. "That's everything in here. Except the dungeon. Which is just beyond here. Surely you don't want to see THAT though."
GAME: Aryia rolls knowledge/religion: (11)+7: 18 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Knowledge/Religion: (18)+10: 28 GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/religion: (5)+13: 18 GAME: Seldan rolls knowledge/religion: (1)+22: 23 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Critias rolls knowledge/religion: (18)+12: 30 GAME: Seldan rolls knowledge/religion: (17)+22: 39
Aryia gives Cor'lana a /look/. Look at that dead pan stare. She's so totally entranced. But to her friends, she's doing everything in her power to not roll her eyes back into her skull as she applies pressure to the wound with some bandages lingering around in a pocket.
She bites her lip, and slowly nods. Yes. A drink. She needs about five right now.
The mute follows after the guards, their new 'friends'. Her brows furrow as they pass by each of the items. Feeling strange and unbalanced at observing them. Nothing really comes to mind, but this talk of a dungeon gets her attention. Now /that/ sounds interesting and promising. But picking the proverbial lock of someone's mind to get permission isn't her forte. So she bides.
Seldan, meanwhile, is left standing there, amid all these alcoves with items, looking apparently stunned and possibly a little ill, both from bad color choices for his complexion and the unbalance that resonates through him from each of these - items. He seems to have forgotten the others, and the comments swirling around him entirely, reaching for something at his neck and bowing his head.
The words inside his mind are silent, only thought, but thought with all his strength. _Holy Dreamer, Seer Of What Will Be. Song of the Night Sky. I stand in a thing that should not be, an anathema to the will of the Light. A thief steals the artifacts holy to the gods - items that have no place on Ea. I need Your holy wisdom. Guide my hand, as You always have. Help me make what is wrong, right. Help me return these to those to whom they rightfully belong._
On Seldan's shoulder Tanith gives a sad, tired little hum, her eyes doing a long blink. "This is bad." She says quietly, quietly enough that perhaps only Seldan - or those paying attention - will hear her. Then she suddenly shakes off her tiredness and seems on the verge of tears. "Peoples... peoples help?"
Cor'lana inspects the relics that are on display and it takes every ounce of her self-control to not betray herself. These are not things that should be in cages. These are not things that should not be here.
It's not just the Star of Tears that they have to liberate. It's a lot of things. None of these should be here. None of these should be _here_.
"Peoples help," Cor'lana says gently to Tanith.
She looks to their two friends. The guards. "What's in the dungeon?" she asks sweetly. Maintaining her facade.
Meanwhile, Telamon has evidently not grasped the full import of these strange items. But even Lana's powerful charm can't stifle the sensation of feeling off balance, that something isn't quite kosher. He frowns a little, his lips curling down. He pauses at the staff, looking at it curiously.
"Huh. One of my ancestors used a staff, too. Didn't look like that though." When they move on, he inquires, "Have you considered putting labels on these things? You know, 'This is the mask worn by the Black Rat when he robbed the treasury of Charn' or somesuch?"
Critias walks through the room as well. He finds it hard not to stare at the objects on display. But a knowing expression crosses his face at the last (or latest) doorway. He lets himself drift to the rear of the group, outside of the field of view of the guards, and motions for Aryia to do the same. "I don't trust them. But things didn't go so well against them last round," he continues signing to her. "What do you think? What can we do about them?" Assuming they get permission to do anything, of course. And he assumes, everyone knows from whom. <handspeech>
Aryia's ear flicks as she can't exactly pick up what Tanith says, but sees the general mood shifts a bit. Glowy eyes flick to Critias. She raises a brow. And shrugs. "Just keep with it. Play it by ear," she motions on the sly, raising a brow as Seldan seems to flag behind. Hmm. <Handspeech>
"Go, my friends. I - will be but a moment." Seldan looks up, and reaches up to stroke Tanith, surveying the displays, each in turn, one more time." He lets out a deep breath, and turns to Tanith, with the very smallest ghost of a smile. "I will help, little one," he whispers. "If you will aid us, in turn. My lady, perhaps you will consent to take our friends for drinks."
Telamon and Lana lead the two guards out of the room, with Critias following in their wake looking after Lana a bit like a lost pup might. Aryia stays with Seldan and Tanith however, leaving them alone. Eventually however Seldan approaches one of the containers which holds one of the items and... The moment that his hand lays upon the item there's a rumble in the room. The door to the dungeon slams open, and a being enters the room.
Whatever it is it's in a sorry state. Once-emerald skin is blackened and torn. Bruised and clearly smeared with silvery blood. Once this being had wings, but now they are plucked clean of feathers, leaving a wreck in its wake. The creature looks horribly wilted, but it strides through the door and Aryia and Seldan can _feel_ its power. This is no small being - whatever it is - it may be wounded, it may have even been tortured, but it is not something to be overlooked.
"LEAVE NOW. OR DIE." It's voice echoes in the mind.
GAME: Seldan rolls knowledge/religion: (9)+22: 31 GAME: Aryia rolls knowledge/religion: (20)+7: 27
-TBC