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cursewoodrecap · 5 years

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Session 5: Askew

This episode: We meet some very strange people, and go to a very strange place.

Contractor Darius firmly escorts Valeria and Gral out of the Baroness’s hall, but he’s chill about it. Nothing personal, we’re just trying to keep the talk about this madman on the down low. We’ve had some suspicious activity around here lately, see. We Cursebreakers got our hands on some important books recently, and Witness Beatrice was just getting started on translating some of the more suspect tomes. Two days later, the library mysteriously burned to the ground. Now I’m not sayin’ it was the Penitents. We don’t have proof. But...well, you see why we’re being careful with news of anyone touched by the Curse.

Gral and Valeria are quite understanding, but they’d also like to take Darius up on his offer to meet this “madman.” Why not go right now?

Meanwhile, Clem goes armor shopping and meets some nice lesbian weaponsmiths at Hammerstein and Sons - Ms. Hammerstein, and her business partner Ms. Sons. Sadly, she finds out that armor and silvered weapons are ‘spensive. Shoshana is wandering the city, noticing that while people give her funny looks, nobody really gives her any crap about her mildly cursed appearance. Clearly, this is an opportunity to hang out in bookstores and impulse-buy unhealthy food. Nobody invites them to come interrogate the madman. Ahem. Anyway.

Darius brings the two adventurers into a narrow hallway in the repurposed mining office that the Cursebreakers took over after the library burned down. Several offices have been converted into sturdy jail cells. Only one of them is occupied. There’s a bed, and there’s easels everywhere, holding half-finished paintings, ink drawings, and charcoal sketches. Pots of paint and other art supplies are scattered around haphazardly.

“He’s weird but we’re pretty sure he’s harmless,” Darius tells them. “Bea comes in to cast Detect Magic once a day to see if he’s up to something, but she’s never found anything.”

Valeria inspects the various half-finished paintings. They’re mostly landscapes. She sees:

-a frozen ocean crashing up against bright purple cliffs, under a sky with five moons

-an owl that turns into a lizard partway through, casting a human shadow. The ground beneath it is breaking apart, opening a pit to darkness.

-a cavernous landscape filled with bones, a grim city looming in the darkness above

-the biggest canvas is full of nothing but very finely-detailed abstract shapes in a psychedelic swirl of colors. Only a small patch of the huge canvas is filled. There is no overarching pattern, just random but elaborate shapes and lines.

Sitting at the big canvas, there is a gaunt elf in ragged clothes. Fresh clothing is folded nearby within his reach, but he hasn’t touched it. Gral notices that there’s something weird about him - the elf’s proportions are juuuust slightly off, pushing him slightly into the uncanny valley. He turns to face them. His eyes are very, very wide, and they are all-black and full of stars.

He notices the group and politely inquires: “Hello. Is the key here?”

“The key?”

“Yes, I think I could be ready to leave soon.”

The adventurers ask if he knows why he’s in here.

“The very nice knights gave me this room to work on my paintings. They’re things I saw when I was elsewhere. I like to refresh my memory.” He points at the grim city. “I’m missing something here….”

Gral politely introduces himself and Valeria.

“Hello, I am the painter. Well, a painter. I’m the only painter here so I might as well be The. Unless one of you paints? No? Very well, the Painter I am!”

Gral inquires of Darius how long ago this odd gentleman was found. Darius says it’s been maybe two or three months? Not long after the mists started happening. The Condotierri found him wandering in a farmer’s field.

Gral turns to the Painter: “Do you know about the lake nearby?"

“Oh yes! I’m very familiar with it!”

“Have you seen the mists?”

“No. Although it makes sense that there would be mists, that’s where mists should happen.”

Valeria brings us back on topic. “How did you get to ‘elsewhere?’”

“Oh, the Key brought me.”

Gral: “...What, or who, is the Key?”

“That is a very complicated question. I’ve asked the Astronomer that many times, and he was always frustratingly vague.”

“The Astronomer?”

“Yes, the Astronomer, he’s the one who told me about the Key. I’m working on a portrait of it!” He gestures to the huge abstract canvas. “I can only remember it sometimes.”

“Where did you meet this Astronomer?”

“In his house by the lake, that’s an awfully silly question.”

Valeria: “...Tell me more about your paintings. This one is super nice, tell me about it!” She points to the ocean landscape.

“Oh yes! That was beautiful, one of the first places I went from the Astronomer’s house. I don’t know if the others made it through in time. I lost my sketchbook somewhere. Unfortunately I didn’t have my paints with me.”

“...you went to these other places with others?

“Oh, well, that was the idea, but I ended up alone. The Astronomer, The Musicians, The Alchemist, the Sculptor, the other Painter – frankly he’s hideous and the world is better that he was left behind, or stuck between – I didn’t look back, there was too much to see in front of me.”

Valeria elbows Gral. “You’re a musician.”

“So I am! Did these musicians happen to be orcs?”

The painter doesn’t know what “orc” means, so Gral takes off his mask and asks if the musicians looked like him. Nope. Glancing between the orc Gral, the dragonborn Valeria, and the human Darius, he decides the musicians looked like - well, nobody here, but Darius more than anybody.

Moving on to the next painting, Valeria points at the owl-lizard creature. “What kind of creature is this?”

The Painter looks angry. “That’s the Destroyer. We had worked so hard for so long, and at the last moment, the triumph of success, it interrupted us.”

“What did it do?”

“I was on the other side, so I was only able to see, but not warn the others. It destroyed our art, our collaboration. What was to be a bridge is now trapped between the two, between here and there. Sometimes there’s a bit of a connection, but… that’s when I’m able to work on the portrait. I remember the Key.”

Valeria: "...Is the Key a physical object?”

“Are you?”

“…Generally speaking, yes?”

“Not entirely, no, but less than you are.”

“Is the key alive?”

“Partially. Partially. It was killed, but it’s alive. Maybe. It should be more. These are some very odd questions!”

Valeria is pretty frustrated by all the riddles. “It doesn’t sound like your key is entirely anything!”

“Well, it might have been one day. If there’s any of it left. That’s why we tried so hard to reach it. The Astronomer especially. He was the first to see it. He organized the collaboration. I was the only one to make it through.

It hasn’t been so bad since I’ve been back. The small one comes to play chess with me, but she’s really bad at it. Doesn’t know any of the rules.”

“What happened to the Astronomer?”

"He is where the house is. I don’t know which side of the house he’s on, this one or the other side.”

Next painting. What’s up with this city of bones?

“The Key wasn’t WITH me, but it helped me. It sent me places. And yes, it was a rather gloomy place, I did not care for it. Impressive visual, but poor lighting.”

“Was anything there alive and moving?”

“Alive no, moving yes. I’ve left those bits out, it’s more of a landscape. What’s the opposite of still life? Moving dead? I’m sure the OTHER painter would have loved it. But I capture sublime beauty, thank you very much. Is that all? Thanks for the appreciation, but I must get back to work on the portrait. I remembered some of it last night, and those memories don’t stay.”

Gral: “Where are the other collaborators now?”

“Some of them might be in the house, some might be wandering. I barely know why I’m here! I doubt the Astronomer left the house, he loves it. It was his place.”

Valeria asks whether the Astronomer would mind if we paid the house a visit.

“Oh, he loves guests!” An insight check reveals the painter is entirely sincere, and madder than a box of rabbits

He turns away from our heroes and gets back to work, almost trance-like in his movements.

Darius is pretty impressed. “You caught him on a good day. Usually he’s worse, you can’t get him away from painting at all. The paints keep him calm. Me or Quentin will try to talk to him, but this is the most we’ve gotten in a while. He’s usually better after the mists come, which is NOT a comforting thought.”

Gral is fixated on the idea of other worlds. When the terrible creature came upon his expedition, Gral saw a kind of warping in space. “The painter’s madness resembles some of the whisperings upon the air when that creature growled. I think there is truth to what he’s saying, just not our truth. And we know there’s something at the lake. Have you found the Astronomer?”

They haven’t. In fact, this is the first time he’s ever been mentioned. The guy hasn’t really given us anything about what he saw in the mists. You might want to talk to Bea about the astronomer? She used to be local record-keeper. She has a shrine to Torme in the basement - all the books she could recover from the library fire. Don’t spook her, please. Also, Quentin’s gonna want an answer about the Mornheim expedition sooner rather than later.

It’s roughly around here that Clem and Shoshana’s players insist on Showing Back Up. Shoshana is eating some sort of absurd ice cream wrapped in fried dough, because no one was there to stop her.

Gral recounts the audience with the Baroness and the meeting with the Painter, and tells Shoshana and Clem the harrowing story of the Curse’s Champion. “I know the Champion’s in the painter’s story somewhere – not sure if it’s the Key, or the Destroyer. But I don’t like any of it. He has probably seen the Champion.”

We ruminate on the idea of this Key taking things Elsewhere. “When the Champion attacked, it ripped the space around it. Maybe it took the encampment’s tents somewhere else instead of destroying them?”

Maybe this Key is a connection to other dimensions. If that’s the case, Gral contends, the connection is sentient. And sometimes mean. Perhaps, if he had followed the beckoning whispers that accompanied the fearsome beast, maybe he would have ended up in the fantastical places in the paintings.

Our problem: CAN we do anything? We’re low-level, dimensional portals are probably not weak to “being hit with sword,” and we have to face the possibility that, like in a Fantasy HP Lovecraft novel (he’s very racist toward orcs), we will be exposed to Weird Shit Man Was Not Meant To Know and end up as nutty as the painter. Also, like, the dead rising in Mornheim might be a priority?

Gral holds firm. “I can’t overstate how important this is. Sooner or later – I don’t know the agenda of this champion, but everyone in this town will die at its hands.”

He bows his head. “I’ve been living for a long time to just see this thing dead, but when I heard its growl last night I just wanted to run and hide. Still. I’ve heard it speak, so I believe it has a body. And if we can find out what that body is - if we know what it is, and where it is, we can figure out what its weakness is.”

Undecided if or when to investigate the Astronomer’s lake house in regards to this mystery, we decide to first take Darius’s suggestion and speak to Witness Beatrice, the cleric of Torme who rescued books from the library fire.

As we go down towards the basement, Clem pulls Gral aside. “Gral, I’m so sorry – I didn’t know that any of that happened to you. I kind of understand where you’re coming from, back with your unit. So if you ever feel like you need to talk, please know that I’m here for you.”

Gral shrugs. “It’s not something I like to remember. Part of me’s scared, part is mad, part is excited I can finally kill this thing. But I have to know what it is first if I’m going to have any hope of killing it..”

Clem nods grimly. “Believe me, I would LOVE to help you kill this thing.”

We head down to the basement. It’s cluttered with bookshelves - some carry old mining records, but most are groaning under a haphazard collection of singed books. There is a small shrine to Torme, the god of knowledge and law, in the corner. It takes a moment amidst the clutter, but Gral spots a small halfling woman muttering to herself and organizing one of the shelves. Gral takes his mask off, knowing that most non-orcs find it unsettling, and calls out a cheery, “Hello!”

She looks up at us from behind big ol coke-bottle glasses. We are all super visually intimidating and armed, because adventurers. She eeps! and hides behind a shelf. “DARIUS!”

Darius scolds us for frightening her after he specifically told us not to, and tells her it’s okay, these guys came and brought Morozov a dead body and an animal skin - wow, okay, that doesn’t actually help make them less scary. Anyhow they’re allies.

She insists he leave his bird, Daikon, down here with her if we’re gonna be large and scary and stuff.

Turns out that when the library burned, she had just begun a research project on several rare texts that might have clues to the Curse: “The Song of Druids,” “The Temptation of Fiends,” and a gruesome collection of essays on undead compiled by a mad necromancer.

Gral asks if any of the texts mentioned keys or gateways.

Bea: “Portals to the Abyss, maybe? I didn’t get very far before the fire.” She shows us a glass case. There are several fragile books inside, badly burned.

She also tells us the Painter’s name is Johann. “I don’t think he knows how the rules of chess work? He picked up a pawn and started painting on it and said that it was a fish. Then he put it in my water glass. Which makes sense, in a way? But I was drinking that.”

When we mention an Astronomer with a lake house, though, something rings a bell. She hunts through the shelves for an old book of maps, left over from when this was a mining office. One of us tall folks kindly gets it off the top shelf.

There! On one of the islands in the lake. There’s supposed to be a home here – right over the cave system they were mapping. A manor house, belonging to one Artyom Vlemisk. A land grant from the old baron to his friend. Bea thinks back: “Yeah, astronomer Artyom! I remember when he came to town, just when I was starting out – he had a bit of an artists’ colony out in his observatory. I mean, we assumed the artists’ colony died a long time ago. Daikon did a sweep, over the entire lake, and we didn’t see the house anymore. When mists first came, we assumed they all got Got. A lot of the people close to the lake have died in the mists, especially down in the fishing village.”

Bea uses a neat magic trick to instantly transcribe us a copy of the map. She was up by the lake not long ago - she stopped by when Darius was surveying the lake bed (using Daikon, who was an octopus at the time) & Quentin was off with Ser Balderich. There’s some guys from Sturmhearst College who set up on edge of lake. They say they’re here to “study the anomalies,” and they’ve set up shop in an abandoned church, calling it a “staging ground.” It might be easier to get them to take us across to the island - the fishermen probably won’t want to risk their boats. They’re led by a Professor Quercus, who specializes in “aberrant biology.” Bea marks the church on the map for us.

With business out of the way, Valeria can’t help but feel a Powerful Need to do something nice for Bea, and produces her book of tales of the Peacock Knight to help Bea rebuild her library. Bea has a copy of the same tales, but it’s a singed and battered old one, and Valeria happily swaps it for her pristine illustrated copy so the library can have something nice.

We decide to go down to the lake to check it out. We still have five days before we have to give Ser Quentin an answer about Mornheim, and since the mists just came last night, we are maybe less likely to get caught in them again if we go soon. Also, we’re just gonna take a casual look around for an afternoon; we don’t have to get into anything too crazy. Right?

We bop on down to the lake. Sure enough, there’s a damaged old stone churchy building, patched with leather tarps. Lights are flashing behind the windows. Someone has put a wooden sign up out front, reading “Sturmhearst College of the Natural Sciences, Holzog Annex. est. [last Tuesday]”

A pair of hulking dudes all in black leather, with big hats and owl masks stand impassively at the gate, armed with big ol’ clubs. They eerily turn in weird unison to look at us as we walk down the path towards them. Clem waves. Valeria waves. Shoshana finger guns. One of them awkwardly tries to finger gun back.

There’s a bell on a pole near the front gate, labeled “please ring for entrance.” Shosha theatrically pulls the ding dong. A figure in a long-beaked bird mask peeks out of the door. “Um, yes, we’re not buying any, go away.”

“Hey, can we use one of your boats?”

“Uh. You’d have to talk to the professor, I guess. I’m just a researcher”

“Oh, is the professor the one in the bird mask?”

“Is this a joke? ...No, really, is that a joke? I’m studying humor. Well, the humors. I’ve been theorizing that maybe comedy affects the balance.”

Behind him, through the door, there is a cacophony of noise. Growl, clatter, crash, explosion! The researcher goes to check, we wait a moment, and then the door opens. “The professor is now available.”

The researcher, who we dub Frederick, leads us into a decently sized church. Folks in bird masks are hurriedly dragging something into basement. It’s under a tarp. It’s vaguely dog shaped, but big. It also looks like a buncha stuff just got crashed over. There’s another owl guard standing there, holding a weird contraption. It’s vaguely smoking, crossbowlike, and smells of ozone? Whatever it is, I want one the next time we go in the woods.

We are approached by a fellow in a white leather coat, wearing a fancier bird mask than the others. He walks up to Valeria. “Ah! Hello there! Mister…mis…are you a boy or a girl?”

“Um, Kyr Valeria Argent, she/her pronouns?”

“Ah, good. My usual method of determining gender of reptilian organisms would be quite rude!”

IT SURE WOULD, I BET.

“Anyway, why do you want a boat?”

“For science?” we try. Before he can call us on the cliche, he distractedly dives under a table and grabs at a rolling object.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t want to lose the orb! It got knocked down during a…football game. That we were having. Yes. I don’t want it to accidentally take root, it would be an awful waste!”

We inform him that we are investigating what used to be a manor built on the lake. An artist colony, disturbed by the mist. Perhaps even movement between dimensions! Have you ever heard of anything like that?”

“Oh, how fascinating! Have I heard of such a…transference? WHAT NO OF COURSE I HAVEN’T. BUT IT WOULD BE QUITE SOMETHING.”

Insight check: he’s lying through his beak. He IS super fascinated by a transference on that scale, but yes, there is super shady shit happening here. We don’t push further, but he bustles over to a table of various strange objects.

“A quest as worthy as this must be done post haste! And I should give you some assistance! That is what one does when asking a group of valiant heroes to quest for knowledge, yes? Take one of these things, they’re magic. Student inventions, you see.” He offers us three options:

1: A rectangular wooden box with a weird putty inside. The putty apparently works similarly to the Mending cantrip, but is especially intended to repair things that have been burned.

2: A ceramic tile with a hole in the middle and a tortoiseshell on the back. It’s a method of acquiring fresh water – it absorbs water from air, or uses a form of the Create Water spell. He’s not really sure! Boop the shell button and you get a stream of fresh water.

3: A weird misshapen orb of plant matter they found in woods. If you throw it to the ground, it makes vines happen. Frederick got stuck in it! You could use it to make rope, or climb a wall. It grows quite quickly if planted or thrown!

We choose the burn repair gel, hoping it might help Witness Beatrice.

He also insists on giving us a red journal in which to record our notes. We all acknowledge he is definitely using us as unpaid research assistants.

“Oh, by the way. Standard procedure for sending out expeditions: do you know what a homunculus is?” (Valeria does. It’s like a familiar, but crafted out of alchemy. They’re not necessarily evil? Super weird, tho.)

“I have one named Gray. Though he’s really rather more of a blue color. He’s got quite a keen sense of smell, so in case you do not return, please let him sniff you so we can track you and recover your research notes. What’s that, Frederick? Oh. Oh dear! To shreds, you say?”

Frederick nods.

“Well! Please leave an article of clothing, perhaps a sock? He will have to smell you later, when he’s a bit more put together.” Gral gives him a bit of sleeve. He tells us to stick together, so they can find all of us if they track Gral. Splitting the party is not university policy!

As we’re merrily heading out, the DM admits he’s surprised he kept a straight face for the whole scene. And then slyly tells us to google the meaning of the name “Quercus.”

The Professor’s name. Is Oak.

...the laughing DM narrowly avoids being pummeled, by virtue of being several hundred miles away. Valeria’s player is revealed to have been a willing accomplice in the whole gag.

For the record, the three items he offered us? A Char Mender, a Squirt Tile, and a Bulbous Orb.

Revenge will be had, DM. When you least expect it.

Aaaaaanyway.

They let us borrow a dinghy, which we all pile into - nobody has boat proficiency, but we do fine on the basis of nobody wants to spend an hour doing a “did anyone fall overboard and get wet” sidequest. A fish looks at us. It has three eyes. It is not a chess pawn.

We can see houses with docks on the edge of lake. They’re badly damaged and falling apart. There were never many people on the lake islands, but when the mists first rose, everyone on islands got real dead, real quick.

The middle of largest island is where the astronomer’s house was. This is not a particularly deep tangle of wood. The whole place seems pretty tame. The trees aren’t too thick, and there’s a paved road right to a large clearing.

According to the map, there should be a large house here. There is not. Instead, there is a giant hole in ground. We peer into it and see the splintered but surprisingly intact remains of the manor house – like a sinkhole opened up directly under it. Valeria throws a rock in the hole, as an experiment. We observe normal rock in hole behavior, and write it down, for science. It’s about a 50ft deep hole. Seems like there was a cave down there? The house is awkwardly sitting in it, looking weirdly intact for a house that fell in a sinkhole.

We rappel down into the pit. It’s weirdly quiet. Closer up, we can see the house has been painted all over with weird geometric patterns and lines. There are bits of carved stone nailed to house in a big massive design of shifting colors and shapes. The designs are broken up a good deal by the collapse of house. Seems like even the house itself was a giant weird abstract art project? We wonder if it’s the same pattern as the Painter’s “portrait,” but we don’t roll well enough to figure out if it is.

Heading in, we find ourselves in a crumpled hallway. The weird patterns continue along the walls. There are 4 doors; 2 on each side. The end of hallway is rubble.

We open the closest door on left: it’s a painter’s studio. There are easels and spilled paint, and there’s a human skull on floor. There’s sketches. Looks like this painter was painting the skull. Shosha takes a sketch, for souvenir reasons. The art is all really macabre, lots of battle scenes There’s a rack of weapons and a mirror, clearly for art references. One wall has a crazy mural of impossible battle scene. Knights are fighting weird monsters. There’s fire and shooty glowing lights. The characters don’t have the cultural context to describe wtf it is, but the players are told it’s very King Arthur vs. Flash Gordon. There’s also a nice, if cliché, Rack in Chains painting.

Next up is the sculptor’s studio. Lots of big marble blocks. The pattern on the walls has continued through both rooms. In the middle of the room there’s an unfinished sculpture of...something weird? It’s clearly unfinished, but there’s, like, an arm and torso stickin’ out. Wtf is that supposed to be? Also, there’s a bunch of symbols and shapes carved into the wall and into blocks of marble, as if the sculptor was practicing them. They get more regular. Some are carved on statue. Shoshana tries to copy them into our Pokedex journal, but starts getting headache staring at them for so long. Roll initiative. Wait, what?

Wait. That shape wasn’t there before...is it moving? A carved fold in sculpture opens up to reveal a maw of stony teeth. A blue-purple tendril emerges from the mouth and the whole thing kind of inverts itself into a big teeth-and-eyes-everywhere guy. WELP. SCP jokes are made.

It proceeds to smack Shoshana with a pseudopod. Hissss! She instinctually swats back, Primal Savagery giving her unnatural claws. But it’s immune to acid damage, which her claws do for some weird mechanics reason. RUDE. Gral fails to insult it. Then, a clatter of metal - the swords from previous room flying through the air! There is a crackling as lightning comes out of the pattern along the walls. The lightning grabs the swords and pulls them through the air along the lines of the pattern, like a Mag-lev train, and attack Valeria and Gral. Clem smacks a mimic with a sword, which is very helpful, since it has just reduced Shoshana to 0 hp. Gral Healing Words her up, though. Shosha MAX DMGs Burning Hands, killing the mimic. A dozen mouths open as if to scream, and what comes out is a weird discordant song. It burns and starts to shrivel up in front of us. Valeria snaps one of the swords, Shoshana flames another, and the final one rolls a natural -3 and self-destructs in shame.

We decide we no longer want to be in the sculptor’s studio.

The door across the hall opens into a large lounge. There’s a bar, bookshelves, and tables. We flip through the books. Most are about art history. They’re super moldy, though. We also find a book of cocktails, written in Kevan, and immediately start making puns. The Boozenomicon. The Negroni-nomicon? By the Mixologist of Minsk. Miska-TONICS? Mixa-tonics? Obviously by Sturmhearst University press. Clem also finds 2 bottles of fancy high-elven vodka, worth 25gp each. Valeria finds scattered sheet music for 2 songs: one is called “Requiem for the Prisoner;” the other is “The Opening of the Ways.” Naturally, she gives the music to the bard.

Next up is the kitchen. The scattered mess and wall patterns continue through it. Chained to the wall, we find a heavily annotated cookbook. Clem takes it and decides to flip through. It’s written like an eldritch recipe blog, and we definitely gotta have it. Loot!

An awful, acrid chemical scent is coming from the next room. It appears to be the alchemist’s lab, which is definitely not a thing you put next to a kitchen, home designers. We all roll Con saves versus being sickened by the fumes. In the middle of the room lies a decaying body - the alchemist herself. A medicine check reveals a head injury - she was likely concussed or knocked out when the house fell, preventing her from escaping the toxic chemical fumes of her shattered laboratory.

Gral finds a notebook labeled “Property of Dr. Alicia Keene”. It describes certain paints that she was inspired to create – formulas for various pigments and art materials. “While I do not have a direct role in the collaboration, I was inspired to create the wondrous pigments Johann and Musalt will need for their parts, though some of the ingredients for the pigments must be acquired from Beyond. Artyoum has assured me that the Lurker and his Hounds will not bother me as I gather them.”

We also gather three potions, labeled A, B, and Q. The DM has not decided what they are yet, but he’ll stat them at some point, if we ever remember we looted them. Shosha also finds a sealed tin labeled “Paint: Reserved for Collaboration.”

Clem, as we loot evidence, notices a weird puddle. Drip. Drip. She looks up and a slimy mass is clinging to the ceiling. It drops onto us and tries to eat us, but we skedaddle outside the room, far outpacing its slow oozing speed.

As we climb upstairs, we start to hear faint music. It echoes down a long hallway filled with doors. Like dumb teens in a horror movie, we go directly toward it.

Inside the conservatory, the painted patterns swirl in complex detail across the floor, centering on a single music stand. The walls are lined with mirrors, but we notice with unease that we don’t reflect in them. The reflection seems to show the room we’re in, but instead of us there are two women, distorted and lanky with unnaturally long fingers, surrounded by floating musical instruments. One is playing a violin, the other a flute. Gral, having read the sheet music, recognizes they are playing “Requiem for the Prisoner.”

As we enter the room, they look at us and stop playing. They spare a glance at each other, raise their instruments once more, and continue playing. But this time, it’s a different song. We hear the opening bars of “The Opening of the Ways,” and the patterns across the floor begin to glow faintly. Cracks in the mirrors begin to emit the same soft glow, and the odd colorful light begins to extend past the edges of the mirror. Mist begins to pour from the cracks.

A sensible adventuring party would have fled, escaping the house before things could go very, very sideways. The DM explicitly gave us the option. But since when has “sensible” ever described an adventuring party? We wanna see what’s gonna happen.

We are declared certified Dumbasses by the DM, and we are about to go on a very strange journey through the looking-glass.

All PCs are now level 4.

#session recap #holzog #the key #shoshana bat chaya #valeria argent #clem haxan #gral omokk'duu #quentin morozov #contractor darius #witness beatrice #professor quercus #sturmhearst university

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disregardcanon · 2 years

Text

okay so a few thoughts about the blight parents following our most recent episode

1. okay so given odalia’s possessiveness over the blight name specifically, i think that it’s HER family’s name. i also think that she wouldn’t be as able to boot him out of the company if it were either something that they founded together or HIS family’s.

2. blight industries might not have always been specifically geared towards abominations, but it’s probably been a big force in the corporate world of the boiling isles for a few generations. maybe abominations specifically but maybe other covens.

3. odalia knew pretty young that with her propensity for oracle magic, she wasn’t going to be able to be the person who makes the products going forward. she’d be able to add consultations as a service they provide and keep her eye on the way stocks and things are going, but she needs something additional to that.

4. she befriended alador and darius young because they were both very talented. she and alador started dating eventually because she could provide him with the resources he needed to continue his research, and darius didn’t like it because odalia was very focused on the idea of what would be profitable. they stopped working together because alador went along with it and wouldn’t stand up to her.

5. darius kept getting more and more frustrated by his former friend and innovator becoming a military contractor and infomercial seller basically. hence calling him a “hack” though they were once close.

6. odalia turned up the heat slowly about what she expected of alador to keep his role in the company and in the family.

#toh #toh spoilers

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samsspambox · 3 years

Text

pokémon teams and how they got them (bc i got on my switch for the first time in a while)

vyn:

chansey

given by giann when they first opened the research center

v helpful when it comes to patients

his little assistant

aipom

caught when he was a teenager

was a big “fuck you” to his dad bc it was a normal type

helps at home with his baking

gallade

given by his dad as a ralts

the family had a generational thing with gardevoirs

he realized that his was a guy so all he had to do was expose it to a dawn stone

first member of the family with a gallade

one of the more subtle “fuck you”’s that he gave his dad

garchomp

given to him by security

after certain events they wanted to make sure that vyn could defend himself

so,,, op dragon lmaooo

espeon

his most recent addition

also found in his garden

healed their tails and got attached

maybe psychic types aren’t that bad,,,

inteleon

found as a sobble in his garden when he first moved to stellis

allowed them to spend time in his garden

now has a lil pond because of them

luke:

taillow (named peanut)

take peanut story and paste it here (i don’t have the card lmaoo)

porygon-Z

given by the NSB

helps with hacking and stuff

loves making beeping sounds and reminding luke to eat

even if that means shutting down the computer

lucario

the only thing he has from his parents

raised from an egg as a riolu

trained with them as a sparring partner

would not leave surgery room when luke was hurt

also very protective of rosa

talonflame

raised from a fletchling with rosa

literally fell on his head

altaria

taken from one of the labs the nsb broke into

bonded exclusive to luke and would not let anyone but luke heal it

sometimes pops out of its pokeball if luke is being stupid and decides not to sleep

skarmory

found them during bootcamp

kept it in his room in secret

they obviously knew but its a skarmory so they let it slide

calls them his getaway car lmaooo

marius:

gyarados

this one is a family tradition.

they have special trainers to breed and raise magikarp and give them everstones.

the only way they can get their magikarp to evolve is to take away the everstone but its a whole ass ceremony.

they had to rush marius’ bc of giann.

both him and the gyarados don’t know how to act around one another. not completely bonded.

the von hagens are required to hold them at all times

roserade

giann left this one behind and no one knows why.

marius took them up and they’ve been working on a relationship.

doesn’t completely obey marius.

smeargle

his bestie. his main. loves them to death.

they paint together often.

he got them while looking at some contractors paint outside and fell in love with them. one of the painters was kind enough to give him an egg.

togekiss

given to him by his father

gift before he left abroad

they’re decently close. has painted them in portraits

umbreon

caught as an eevee abroad

he likes painting at night, sue him

and he felt bad that he couldn’t spend time with them so he let them out at night

pidgeot

a pidgey he caught as a kid

loves them

uses them to get around when he’s alone

loves the feeling of flying with them

has used them as a plane substitute and jumped off them

best thing

artem:

decidueye

given to him by neil

figured he could use a partner when shooting

they were very,,, cold to one another

bonded over target practice

arcanine

given to him by darius/commission that gives lawyers their licence

police officers use arcanaines as partners for chase and protection

they extend the same courtesy to lawyers

meowstic

a gift from his mom as an espurr when he was like 5

listen they just seem like two peas in a pod

expressions who?

loves to keep them out of their pokeball

may sometimes be seen in the office wandering around

sometimes just stares at rosa while she works

no the meowstic is not in love with rosa stfu

bisharp

taken in after a pokemon abusing case he worked on

no one wanted to take them due to their tough exterior

actually a sweetheart

loves helping artem in the kitchen

v good carrot chopper

azumarill

caught the lil fella after they suck in on his swim time

they are now swimming buddies

the one he takes out when he goes to the orphanage

sandslash

found them as a teenager

related to them on a spiritual level bc he too just wanted to roll up into a ball

#tears of themis #pokemon au #luke pearce #artem wing #vyn richter #marius von hagen #i actually put a lot of time into these #artem is hella attached to his espurr when hes a child #finally someone who understands he thinks #god vyn with a sobble? fucking good food #probably gave the sobble therapy #idk luke with a lucario makes sense lol #more as companions #they don't fight often but they're fairly strong #have something from the drafts today #long post.

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airis-paris14 · 3 years

Text

Starlight Chapter 13

Summary: Amani is an orphaned heiress who's spent most of her life raising her younger sister. T'Challa is a widowed King and Father. Neither of them is expecting much from their night at the Lotus. But the coming months have many milestones in store for these young adults. Will becoming a family be one of them?

Warnings: N/A

Masterlist

2 months later

“Amani, I’m about to head out,” Amare called, grabbing her house keys off of the hook. “Okay, hold on, I'll be right back Baby.” T’Challa nodded into the phone and muted himself to speak to someone off screen. Amani hurried down the stairs and smiled at her little sister. “Okay, passport, keys, tickets, wallet, and medicine in carryon?”

“Yes mother,” Amare smirked.

“I’m just trying to keep you safe kid,” the older Okeke smiled and pulled her in for a hug. “You’re 18, not 21, so please, no sneaking off without telling Shuri’s guards where you all are going. Limit your alcohol intake, I know it’s legal over there but the last thing I need is a call from a German hospital saying you have alcohol poisoning.”

“I promise I will limit the drinking, and the sneaking out.”

“Good. Have fun, be safe. I love you.” Amani smiled and pulled her sister in for another hug. “Love you too sis. I’ll only be gone for a week.”

“I know, but you know I hate saying goodbye. You’re all I have left kid. But I want to let you live, so go before you miss your flight. Hug Shuri for me.

“I’ll call you when I land.” Amare bounded down the front steps and into her already packed car. Amani sighed watching her wave one last time before pulling off down the street. She waved at the patrol car as it drove by on its hourly surveillance drive by, before locking her door and heading up the stairs into her office. “And I’m back,” she plopped into her seat, reopening her MacBook.

“Personally I don’t think it’s fair that our sisters see each other more than we do,” the king teased. Amani rolled her eyes, “This is their first time seeing each other since we came home, it’s only been two months,” Amani laughed. “Yes, and after having you here for three months, I’ve decided that 61 days is too long to be out of your presence.”

“Well you know I’m working to get the venue started up, I just can’t travel as much as usual. You know I would be there if I could,” Her voice began to tremble.

“I know my love,” T’Challa reassured, “I am just teasing,” he frowned, noticing her eyes tearing up. “I know but lately I’ve just been feeling like such a bad girlfriend,” she began to sob and the king panicked. “Hey no, you’re perfect. Nothing's wrong. It’s on both of us and I was gonna tell you that I was planning to surprise you with a visit.”

“Really?” Amani sniffled.

“Yes so please stop crying entle.” The heiress grabbed a tissue from the box she had begun to keep on her desk after noticing that even the little things made her tear up. “I’m sorry. I ruined the surprise again,” she chuckled, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “It is fine, now you have something to look forward to. You hate them anyway,” the king teased.

“Are you sure you’re alright though my love? You have been extra-sensitive lately.”

“In more ways than one,” the heiress murmured. “Have you been to the new doctor, did she run the tests the doctor here ordered?” The king grabbed a stack of papers and began signing them. “Yep,” Amani read over and responded to an email her contractor sent before turning her attention back to T’Challa. “I have an appointment with her tomorrow. She and Dr. Zabulie both sounded very excited so I’m hoping it's a positive result.”

The king smiled at the news, “Well then I’ll be expecting a full report as soon as you know.”

“Of course. I’ll call your mother as well, I wouldn’t even be in this position if you all hadn’t encouraged me to go see another doctor.”

“We both just want what is best for you,” the king smiled, “but unfortunately I have a meeting to attend to my love. I will call you later tonight, okay?”

“Of course, I’ll see you later.” She blew a kiss through the phone before the king had to hang up. After responding to more emails, she scheduled some property manager interviews for later in the week and a building walk through. Her phone caught her attention as it began to ring, “Hello?” She answered. “Hey, Kura and I finished those designs for different set ups and interiors, are you free to go over them?”

“Yeah,” Amani smiled. While in Wakanda she and her friends decided to go into the event business together. They’d bought an old hotel downtown in Atlanta and decided to turn it into a sleepover venue. With suites and rooms designed for different party sizes and moveable features to make the room age appropriate. A spa, boutique, and restaurant, would be located on the grounds as well. There was also a separate grand ballroom and garden that allowed them to market the place as an all in one wedding venue. They’d started work while in Wakanda and now two months later they were weeks away from opening the ballroom, gardens, and other non overnight amenities for event bookings. They would use the money from the rentals to help recover the costs of renovating the hotel rooms.

“Bet. We’ll be over in 30. Sakura has to pick up the pizza first.”

“Cool, don’t forget extra garlic butter sauce. Imma hop in the shower. Y’all can just use your keys to let yourselves in.”

After hanging up the phone Amani hopped in the shower and let the water soothe her muscles. She’d been working so hard to make sure everything came together and it finally was. She was more in love with T’Challa each day, she was starting a business with her friends, and Darius had been spotted in New York living with some family he had there. She still had nightly surveillance, but knowing that he’d move out of the state definitely calmed her nerves.

“Madiyson?” The heiress called as the sound of the front door caught her attention. When she didn’t receive a response she shrugged and figured she had her beats on. She quickly motioned with her coconut oil,slipped into some sweatpants, and pulled a sports bra over her head before a voice sent a chill down her spine. “You’ve been holding out on me Amani.”

Darius got up from his seat behind her on the bed and revealed the kitchen knife he was holding. “If I had known you could look like that, I would’ve made you work out more.”

“How the hell did you get in my house?”

“No Thank you? Darius frowned.

“What do I have to thank you for?”

“Giving you a second chance,” Darius smirked before lunging at the Okeke heiress. Amani, dodged his lunge as he ran into the dresser she was standing in front of. “ A second chance for what you bastard!” The heiress resisted the urge to search for her phone, she knew Darius, he watched her eyes always to anticipate her next move. “You ruined my life. You were supposed to be my wife, look pretty, give me kids. Instead your ass got me locked up for damn near life. Now my dad is all on my ass because he had to call in a favor with the DA and the governor in one sitting-”

“Well maybe your ass should’ve just stayed in jail then!” Amani ducked, expecting the lamp on the nightstand to fly towards her head. She took the moment she dodged the light fixture to locate her phone. It was too far and she knew that she’d never be able to reach it before Darius finished his spiel. She’d have to leave her friends a clue that something had gone wrong.

“Now,” Darius eyed Amani as she backed up against the wall, “as I was saying. Everyone is counting on me to not fuck up! Which means I need to get my old life back, starting with you Ms. Okeke, now heiress of the Okeke Industries Tech Conglomerate.”

“No one will ever believe that we are a happy couple once again Darius, they found me, clinging to life, hypothermic, and bleeding because you literally beat our child out of me. It was on the five o'clock news for weeks straight.” Amani risked eyeing her keys once more, hoping that the plan she was hatching would work.

“What better way to show them that I am a changed man, than by having you forgive me. A redeemed love, a true love,” Darius stepped up to Amani and caressed her cheeks and lips. The woman felt like crawling out of her skin but she held it together. “Why don’t you just find another woman?” Not that Amani wished Darius on any other woman, she’d prefer he’d be locked up in a cell, but she needed to get him to back up. “Does it really matter? I want you, and I’ve already invested a lot in you Amani. You got a little break to have fun and spend time with other men, but you are mine. You always were and you always will be, it’s time I got a return on my investment. “ Darius took a seat on Amani’s bed and she silently rejoiced.

“Okay, then what’s your plan?”

“You don’t need to know all of that. Just know that I’m not leaving you behind Amani.” Darius pointed the knife and Amani nodded, “I’m just gonna grab my keys,” she gestured. “If I go missing, the police will look at all of your father’s and friend’s properties, no one will think I was stupid enought to take you to one of our vacation homes.” At least the waitress hoped this wasn’t the stupidest idea she’d ever had.

“Nah, cause I’m sure your friends and man know all about those places. Not to mention your little sister.”

“Amare is out of the country at a science conference, won’t be home for two weeks, you’ll have time to move me before she can get back. As for the others, they don’t even know we own vacation properties.” Amani scoured through her keys and grabbed the one she knew her sister would recognize as missing first. “Here, we can go to the chateau in the mountains in North Carolina. It’s secluded. No one for miles around.”

Darius stood up, “Nah, there’s a reason you’re helping me. What is it?”

“You’re never gonna leave me alone otherwise. I don’t wanna die, and this is most likely the last time I’ll ever get a decision about something that happens to me. Think of it as my final words.” As soon as the excuse left her mouth Amani felt her mouth go dry and heavy, for some reason, it did feel like she’d sealed her own fate.

“Amani!” Madiyson called as she entered the apartment. Sakura followed in hot on her heels to place the heavy pizzas in the kitchen. “I still don’t know why you ordered four pizzas for 3 people,” Madiyson laughed, dropping all of her interior design sketches and renderings on the table. “As much of a perfectionist each of us is… We're gonna be here all night and y’all are gonna be glad I bought enough pizza.”

“Well if AMANI would BRING. HER. ASS. DOWN. THE. STAIRS we could get started and be done at a godly hour.” Madison yelled up the stairs into the continued silence. “You told her we were coming, right?”Sakura joined her friend at the base of Amani’s stairs and frowned. “Yeah, she said just let ourselves in.”

“Maybe she’s taking a nap, she’s been doing that more often than usual.”

“Oh god, if she’s taking a nap then she’ll be dead to the world right now. You wanna wake her up while I set up?” Madiyson shook her head and walked back over to the couch in the living room. “Sure, just throw me into the lion’s den. You know she hates being woken up by anyone but Amare and Ada.” Sakura whined. “You’ll be fine, she would never hate you. Just make it seem like she woke herself up. Throw a pillow or something.” Madiyson shrugged and opened her laptop.

“Always the sacrifice, never the beneficiary,” Sakura mumbled as she jogged up the stairs into Amani’s room. “Mani,” the afro-asian woman sang as she burst into the room, only to be greeted by a perfectly made bed. “Amani?'' She tried to calm her heartbeat as she checked her friend’s closet and bathroom. “Okay focus, details details,” Sakura chanted to herself. “7:47, no phone in the room, nothing messed up, somebody sat on the bed,” the waitress took note of the room as she backed her way out, down the stairs, and towards the garage. “Hey, did you- what’s wrong,” Madiyson frowned as her best friend opened the garage door and looked out. “Did she say she was gonna leave?” Sakura ignored Madiyson’s original question, feeling her stomach drop at the presence of Amani’s car, and the empty house. “No, she said she was gonna take a shower-”

“Madiyson, She’s not here.”

“Look, I already told you what happened. Madiyson called Amani at 6:30, she picked me up, we picked up the pizzas, let ourselves in, but she wasn’t here when i went to check on her. I went into the room at 7:47. The shower had been turned on and the room was steamy, and someone had sat on her bed but Amani hates that unless she’s about to go to sleep. Except she isn’t in her room sleeping!”

“Why are you all not taking this seriously! Her abusive ex is a known kidnapping threat. For God’s sake she’s had a 24/7 patrol for months because there was fear he would try to retaliate! Now that she’s missing, y’all aren’t doing a damn thing.” Madiyson butted in frustrated at the officers staring at them like they were aliens from outer space.

“Ma’am, we are just trying to get all the facts first-”

I’ve given them to you three times, if you can’t comprehend then we’ve got a bigger problem!” Sakura fumed and the officers stood. “We’ll call headquarters and see what we can do. Technically it has to be 48 hours before we can report and adult as missing-”

“Just get out please,” Madiyson sighed. She held open the door for the officers who hesitated, their feathers obviously ruffled.

“I’ll try calling Amare again.” Sakura stood and walked out after the officers left. Madiyson locked the door and stared up at the clock, realizing she should probably call T’Challa.

“Hello?” Madiyson breathed deeply as the call finally connected to the king, “T, she’s gone,” the woman’s voice warbled but her words shook the king all the same. “What do you mean she is gone?” He stood, immediately stumbling to slip on some shoes and race through the halls to his mother’s room. “Sakura and I came for a meeting, and she wasn’t here. Her car is here but she isn't and she assured us she’d be here taking a shower. Someone else was here because someone was sitting on her bed, at the bottom. You know she hates people ruffling her sheets.”

“Have you talked to Amare? Are you sure she didn’t take her to the airport?”

“We’ve been trying to reach her but she's still on the plane. She would have been back by now if she just went to the airport. She knew we were coming.” Madiyson broke, sobbing into the phone.

T’Challa’s heart dropped, his mind racing back to how he’d begged his lover not to go back until the rumors that her abuser had officially moved were confirmed. Now she was gone and the king felt he had failed to protect her. “Madiyson, Madiyson, I need you to breathe and keep breathing. Did you call the police?”

“Yes, but-“ Madiyson stumbled trying to regain her composure, “they said since it hasn’t been 48 hours it’s not technically a missing persons case.”

The king felt anger rush through his veins, “So they aren’t doing anything?”

“Not really,” Madiyson moved to grab tissue from Amani’s bathroom. “Have her call the detectives over these two imbeciles. She was on 24 hour surveillance due to risk of revenge from her abuser. Them sitting around doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know, I know, I’m heading downstairs right now-” Madison paused as she noticed Amani’s keys on her vanity. “Wait, one of her keys-” Madison trailed off flipping through the keys. “One of her keys is what?” T’Challa knocked on his mother’s door. “It’s missing. When her parents died, she kept keys to all of their properties. With them all labeled with numbers but I don’t know which one is which. Just number three is missing,” Madison ran a hand over her braids and huffed. T’Challa banged on his mother’s door again before taking a step back and pacing the hall. “Okay, You and Sakura just stay there, keep trying to reach Amare. I’m on my way and I’ll try to reach Shuri. See if you can figure out what key is missing.”

“Okay, call us when you land.”

T’Challa hung up the phone, “Umama!” He banged on the door before Ramonda yanked it open. “T’Challa, what in Bast’s name-”

“It’s Amani, she’s missing. We have to go now, can you try to reach Shuri? Her friends think they have a lead but we need to reach Amare.”

“How long has she been missing?” The queen mother rushed back in her room and started to get dressed and pack a bag. “We don’t know, I just got off the phone with Madiyson. They went to the house and she was missing.”

“Did they call the police?”

“They say they can’t report her absence until 48 hours has passed,” T’Challa opened his beads and messaged Okoye. I need you, Ayo, a plane, and five of your best warriors. Meet me on the tarmac in 30.”

“When do we leave?”

“In 30 minutes, I have to pack a bag. Ayo and Okoye will meet us at the tarmac with some back up, can you please try to reach Shuri while I get ready?”

“Yes, I will try calling her.”

The king nodded and turned to rush back to his room. “T’Challa,” Ramonda called out,”We will find her. She will be alright.” He offered his mother a sad smile before continuing down the hall.

“It’s the North Carolina key?”

“Yes. Number 3 it's her favorite number for her favorite house.” Amare insisted as Sakura flipped through the keys again.

“Do you know the address?” Madison interrupted.upiui

“Uh, number 3 Lodge Street Asheville, North Carolina.”

“And you’re sure that is the key that is missing?” T’Challa interrupted Madiyson and Amare. The teen looked at the king through the camera, the lights of the quinjet humming behind her as Shuri watched on. “Yes, I’m positive. Amani is heading to the North Carolina house.”

The king hit the table and turned to his guard, “We are heading to North Carolina. Now.”

“We’ll meet you there-”

“No,” T’Challa and his mother answered at the same time.``You two stay exactly where you are,'' Ramonda demanded. “All due respect, I am not staying over here in Germany when my sister has been kidnapped by her abuser!” Amare rebutted. “Yes, but for all we know he has men looking for you too. As well as Madiyson and Sakura. So until then, at least we know where you are. We are sending Dora Milaje to your hotel.” T’Challa finalized.

“No, I am not standing back when my sister is in danger. I wasn’t there the first time she was saved and opened her eyes, I want to be there this time.” Amare demanded while she teared up and T’Challa sighed. He walked around the desk to look at Okoye and his mother. “You all can head back to Wakanda, once the extra Dora arrive. Once we have her, we’ll bring her back to Shuri’s lab, there you guys can see her.” The king looked at everyone in the room, “Besides, I don’t think it is safe for any of you to be in the US alone right now.”

“So what are you saying?” Sakura sat up from her place on the couch. T’Challa nodded at the general of the Dora Milaje. Okoye tapped her staff and escorted the rest of the warriors out of the home. Once the door had shut the room turned to face T’Challa again. “I have been thinking, especially in light of what has happened to Amani, that you all should move to Wakanda. Stay in the palace of course. I know you two would have to travel for business and Amare we’d have to figure out your schooling, but it is obvious that this government has no vestment in keeping you all safe. I can do something about it and I will, if you all will let me.”

“I don’t know T-” Madiyson started.

“I had been thinking about transferring to study with Shuri, but I don’t know how Amani would take it.” Amare added. “She’s not just gonna give up her independence. She just got it back from Darius,” Sakura added. “I know but it is not safe here, at least for now. As well connected as that fugitive is, who knows what will happen to you all if he goes back to jail. I let Amani convince me she would be safe, and now two months later we are searching for her praying to Bast that she isn’t dead.”

“T’Challa this is not your fault,” Sakura interjected. “I know, but if I can keep you all safe, I have a responsibility to do so. You will have free will and autonomy, but at least inside Wakanda’s borders, I can guarantee your safety.

“I think this is a lovely conversation, but might I remind you all that this is a time sensitive case. Let’s table this discussion until we all make it back to Wakanda” Shuri interrupted the discussion that seemed to be heading towards an endless round table. “Shuri is right, time is of the essence.” Ramonda spoke standing, “everyone comes back to wakanda for the time being. Once we rescue Amani, we send our war dogs to clear any suspicions and make sure it is safe for you all to return. Then we make a decision. Until then-“

“We focus on the task at hand.” Madiyson finished and Ramonda agreed. “Shuri and Amare head back home once the Dora arrive. When we have Amani we’ll let you know.”

“Keep my sister safe T’Challa,” Amare asserted before hanging up. “She’s just nervous,” Sakura reassured. “We are all glad we have someone here to help us this time. But we should get on the road. Darius works fast.” The Afro-Asian waitress added solemnly. The king nodded, “Phambile,” he called and the guards opened the doors escorting everyone to the cars waiting to race to the airport.”

Fourteen Hours Ago

“Amani.” The heiress fumbled to wrap the stick back it s package and hide it on the sink before running out of her bathroom. “Hey,” she offered her younger sister a smile but only received a confused face in return. “Hey, you’re up early, I thought you’d be sleep,” Amare took a seat in one of the overstuffed arm chairs in her sisters bedroom. “I wasn’t feeling well. I got up to take some medicine no biggie,”Amani shrugged. “You go to the doctor again soon right? You should have her check it out.”

“She’s an OBGYN, but I’ll see what she might be able to recommend.”

“Cool, well I’d been thinking-“

“Oh that’s never good,” the heiress laughed as her sister shot daggers her way. “As I was saying. I’ve been thinking about transferring to study in Wakanda with Shuri. It’d make it easier for you to come see Tchalla and I could get accustomed to the culture before we move there-“

“Hey hey, who said we we’re moving to Wakanda?”

“Amani. I’m not dumb or a little girl anymore. I know how marriages and relationships work. I know you live tchalla. I know he loves you. And I know how monarchies work. I also know that T’Challa has asked you to move in or visit more often and that I’m probably the reason you’re hesitant about doing either.”

“You’re right, but I didn’t say anything cause I don’t want you thinking you have to move because of me and T’Challa. I want you to follow your dreams, and dtudying at MIT was one of those dreams.”

“And dreams change, Amare reminded. I used to any to be a ballerina, astronaut, actress, and hear I am studying at MIT. And now, I know that the university of Wakanda can offer me so much more. Plus I’ll get to spend more time with my best friend and take advantage of her lab. It’s a win win!” The young genius insisted. Amani sighed and settled on the chair next to her.

“How about we finish out this fall semester and pick up the conversation over Christmas break. I just don’t want you to regret anything.” The older sister explained.

“That’s fair.” Amare nodded and stood. “Back to you though, are you sure you’re feeling well enough for me to leave?”

“Now you sound like the older sister. I’ll be fine kid, you go have fun at your conference thing in Germany. Have you finished packing?”

“Nope, I wanted to get and early start at the stores so I can pack before my flight.”

“Okay, I’m headed back to sleep. But don’t crash the car and fill up the tank before you come back please.”

“I always do,” Amare smiled before kissing her sister's cheek and slipping out of the room. Once Amani heard the front door shut. She locked herself in the bathroom and unwrapped the third and final test. She sat them all in a row before flopping down on the toilet.

“Shit.”

Taglist: @almostpurelysmut @blackbypurpose @tchoking @sisterwifeudaku @wikiwakanda @royallyprincesslilly @90sinspiredgirl @thedelightfulone @autumn242 @purple-apricots @kumkaniudaku @queertrex @kaciidubs @halfrican-heat @skysynclair19 @dramaqueenamby @leahnicole1219 @kreolemami @mzbritt @derangedcupcake @chaneajoyyy @lalapalooza718 @ororowrites @leahnicole1219 @sarcastic-sunshines @sarahboseman @faatassbitch @lady-love-and-glitter-roses @cxnismajcr @tchallasbabymama

#tchalla fanfiction #tchalla #tchalla imagine #tchalla x reader #blackpantherimagines #apbpfics #tchalla x black! reader #tchalla x black!oc #tchalla x oc #tchalla x you #starlightfic #shuri black panther #tchalla black panther #t’challa x oc #t’challa x reader #t’challa udaku

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gremlinbehaviour · 4 years

Text

Salvation

read on ao3 here

Just binge-watched the first season of Salvation yesterday solely because it has Santiago Cabrera in it and actually managed to finish a fic about it

"Why aren't we going to the Treehouse?" Liam asked as Darius led him to one of the little secure out-buildings near the Tanz main building.

"I'm having some work done up there," the CEO explained casually. "It should be done in a few days."

"What kind of work?"

"Oh, they found some mold in the bathroom. It's inconvenient and I wish it could have waited for six months, but its better to get it fixed now than to allow it to grow and compromise air quality." They reached what was apparently going to be their temporary meeting spot and the topic changed to more serious matters. It was nearly forgotten until the next week, when they had returned to the Treehouse and Liam had to use the bathroom.

At first he couldn't put a finger on what felt wrong about being in there. There were no visible signs of recent construction; the contractors had cleaned up completely after themselves. The persistent feeling that something was wrong could not be rationally explained until he was leaving the bathroom and it hit him. The shower has been replaced by a bathtub. He squinted at the change, confused as to why Darius had implemented it as well as why he hadn't mentioned it. The Treehouse was his home, basically; Liam didn’t even know if he had a private apartment somewhere else. Another confusing thing is that his boss had always seemed to prefer quick, cold showers to wake himself up during long brainstorming sessions; he didn’t seem at all like a bath guy. It was larger than a standard tub, but it wasn’t extravagant. No jets marred its clean interior and a bar of soap and bottle of shampoo sat on the rim.

“Did you decide to change the bathroom since they were already renovating it to get rid of the mold?” he asked Darius as he returned to the main room of the Treehouse. The older man looked up and scowled briefly at him.

“I’m sorry, I thought we were trying to save the world, not comment on my interior design,” he scolded before turning away back the holographic model of the EM drive. “Now, I think we can cut down on gravitronic interference if we replace this section of steel with a carbon fibre composite.”

“Will that compromise structural integrity?” Liam asked in response, sufficiently mollified. As if in punishment, it was hours until the older man allowed them to take another break. They had finished the design of the support structure for the engine, which would be looked over by more engineers tomorrow before beginning to be built.

Liam lay on the couch while Darius took a spot stretched out on the carpet under a hologram of some distant solar system with planets in the habitable zone. It was a comforting reminder that there were other planets out there capable of sustaining life, far from the problems here on Earth. Maybe, with the EM drive, they’d reach them some day. The two men lay silently except for the sounds of the former grad student eating chips.

“Replacing the shower was the plan from the start, mold was just a cover story,” Darius piped up unexpectedly. Liam turned to look at him, but his expression was unreadable from his angle. “After the DoD waterboarded me, I… stopped being able to take showers. The feeling of water running over my face was too much.” The only indication that it was hard for him to say that was the single pause; his smooth voice was still perfectly steady.

“And baths are easier?” Liam asked. He didn’t know what else to say.

“I can keep my face out of it better,” Darius agreed with a nod against the ground. “Other waterboarding survivors apparently have similar problems. Some report not being able to go out in the rain. I guess I’ll have to wait for a storm to see if I have that problem.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Liam asked. He hoped that wasn’t a rude question, but Darius didn’t seem like the sharing type and they had known each other for only a little over a month. Admittedly, that month felt like year due to everything that had happened in it, but they still weren’t all that close yet.

“So you can remind me to bring an umbrella when I go outside, or understand what’s happening if I do have a panic attack.”

“Oh, that’s very practical.” Liam was surprised to find that he was… disappointed by that. There was a long pause before Darius spoke again.

“That’s not the only reason,” he said, and his voice was softer now. He rolled over onto his right arm to look at Liam. “Since… since Lazlo, I don’t have many people I can trust. I want those that I do have to know me. And I think… knowing me now includes knowing what happened to me and what I’m doing about it.”

“I… Thank you, sir, for your trust.” That seemed like the safe thing to say. He took a deep breath before saying the riskier one. But sometimes risks had to be taken to make friends. “I trust you too. I didn’t, before your… interrogation-”

“You can say torture,” he corrected, “but go on.”

“Before your torture,” Liam continued, though the word stuck in his throat. “I believed what they were saying. I thought you might be the mole. When we found Salvation, I thought that was your plan all along. Let the world burn and save the few you wanted to.”

“What changed your mind?” Darius asked. There was no judgement in his voice, as the younger man had expected.

“Well, it didn’t take us, Grace and I, long to realize that you were protecting her by keeping your alibi secret. As for when I think I began to trust you, that was when I saw Starry Night in that vault. Grace asked “Why would someone who wants to doom humanity also save its greatest works?” That’s when I realized you really do have a reason for everything. And you could have hired Jillian for anything, just to keep her close to me, but instead you put her on a project that could really make a difference, because you believed in what she stood for.”

“Maybe I just really liked her book,” Darius said. It was deflection away from the sentiment and intimacy of the conversation, clearly, but he was smiling as he said it so Liam couldn’t fault him.

“If that was true you would have just contracted her to write another one.”

“Maybe I really hated her book,” he amended, and set them both laughing. Darius’s turned into a cough and he had to quickly sit up to be able to breathe better. It had been two weeks since his waterboarding but he still had a persistent cough he tried to hide. Liam disabled the hologram and moved to help him upright.

"I think we should call it a night," he suggested, emboldened by the fact that Darius hadn't shrugged off the supportive hand on his arm. "Or rather, early morning. Or not so early morning," he corrected himself as he caught a glimpse of the clock.

"A couple hours sleep might be nice," the older man agreed and that's how Liam knew he really felt like shit. The two men stumbled over to the Treehouse’s king-sized bed, as the younger man decided that it was too much work to walk all the way back to his own apartment for at most two hours of sleep. Jillian would understand, hopefully. Both of them took off their shoes (try to make fun of the barefoot guy now, Darius) and the CEO had shrugged off his blazer, but other than that they lay on the bed fully dressed. Liam would have to head back to his own apartment in the morning for some clean clothes, and now also a shower.

“Good night,” he yawned as he stretched out on the right side of the bed.

"Morning," Darius countered before letting his eyes drift closed.

#salvation #darius tanz #liam cole #santiago cabrera #charlie rowe #salvation cbs #tw torture

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trekkinginpakistan · 4 years

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New Post has been published on Trekking in Pakistan

New Post has been published on https://trek.pk/taxila/

Taxila

Taxila (Urdu: ٹيکسلا‎), is a city in Rawalpindi District of the Punjab, Pakistan. Taxila is situated about 32 km (20 mi) north-west of Islamabad and Rawalpindi, along the historic Grand Trunk Road, near the important Sikh pilgrimage centre of Hasan Abdal, and the Mughal-era Wah Gardens.

Ancient Taxila was historically referred to as Takshashila in Sanskrit, and Takkasila in Pali. The earliest settlement at Taxila was founded around 1000 BCE at the Hathial site. The Hindu epic poem Mahābhārata is believed to have been first recited at Taxila, by the sage Vaiśampāyana. By some accounts, Taxila was home to one of the earliest, if not the first, universities in the world.

Taxila’s ruins are internationally renowned, and function as a series of interrelated sites, including a Mesolithic cave, the remains of 4 ancient cities, and Buddhist monasteries and stupas. The ancient ruins of Taxila were declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1980.

Etymology

Taxila was in ancient times known in Pali as Takkasila, and in Sanskrit as Takshashila (IAST: Takṣaśilā). The city’s Sanskrit name means “City of Cut Stone”. The city’s ancient Sanskrit name alternately means “Rock of Taksha” – in reference to the Ramayana story that states the city was founded by Bharata, younger brother of the central Hindu deity Rama, and named in honour of Bharata’s son, Taksha.

The city’s modern name, however, is derived from the ancient Greek recording of the ancient city’s name, noted in Ptolemy’s Geography. The Greek transcription of Taxila became universally favoured over time, while the Pali and Sanskrit versions fell out of use.

History

Early settlement

The region around Taxila was settled by the neolithic era, with some ruins at Taxila dating to 3360 BCE. Ruins dating from the Early Harappan period around 2900 BCE have also been discovered in the Taxila area, though the area was eventually abandoned after the collapse of the Indus Valley Civilisation.

The first major settlement at Taxila was established around 1000 BCE. By 900 BCE, the city was already involved in regional commerce, as discovered pottery shards reveal trading ties between the city and Puṣkalāvatī.

Taxila was founded in a strategic location along the ancient “Royal Highway” that connected the capital at Pataliputra in Bihar, with ancient Peshawar, Puṣkalāvatī, and onwards towards Central Asia via Kashmir, Bactria, and Kāpiśa. Taxila thus changed hands many times over the centuries, with many empires vying for its control.

Achaemenid

Archaeological excavations show that the city may have grown significantly during the rule of the Persian Achaemenid Empire in the 6th century BCE. In 516 BCE, Darius I embarked on a campaign to conquer Central Asia, Ariana, and Bactria, before marching onto what is now Afghanistan and northern Pakistan. Emperor Darius spent the winter of 516–515 BCE in the Gandhara region surrounding Taxila and prepared to conquer the Indus Valley, which he did in 515 BCE, after which he appointed Scylax of Caryanda to explore the Indian Ocean from the mouth of the Indus to the Suez. Darius then returned to Persia via the Bolan Pass. The region continued under Achaemenid suzerainty under the reign of Xerxes I and continued under the Achaemenid rule for over a century.

Hellenistic and Mauryan

Alexander the Great invaded Taxila in 326 BCE, after the city was surrendered by its ruler, king Omphis. Greek historians accompanying Alexander described Taxila as “wealthy, prosperous, and well governed.” His troops were said to have found a university in Taxila, the like of which had not been seen in Greece.

After Alexander’s departure, Taxila came under the influence of Chandragupta Maurya, who turned Taxila into a regional capital. His advisor, Chanakya, was said to have taught at Taxila’s university. Under the reign of Ashoka, the city was made a great seat of Buddhist learning, though the city was home to a minor rebellion during this time.

Indo-Greek

In the 2nd century BCE, Taxila was annexed by the Indo-Greek kingdom of Bactria. Indo-Greeks build new capital, Sirkap, on the opposite bank of the river from Taxila. During this new period of Bactrian Greek rule, several dynasties (like Antialcidas) likely ruled from the city as their capital. During lulls in Greek rule, the city managed profitably on its own, to independently control several local trade guilds, who also minted most of the city’s autonomous coinage. In about the 1st century BCE or 1st century CE, an Indo-Scythian king named Azilises had three mints, one of which was at Taxila, and struck coins with obverse legends in Greek and Kharoṣṭhī. The last Greek king of Taxila was overthrown by the Indo-Scythian chief Maues around 90 BCE. Gondophares, founder of the Indo-Parthian Kingdom, conquered Taxila around 20 BCE, and made Taxila his capital. According to early Christian legend, Thomas the Apostle visits king Gondophares IV around 46 CE, possibly at Taxila given that that city was Gondophares’ capital city.

Kushan

In the first century CE, the Greek Neopythagorean philosopher Apollonius of Tyana visited Taxila, which his team described as a fortified city laid out on a symmetrical plan, similar in size to Nineveh. Inscriptions dating to 76 CE demonstrate that the city had come under Kushan rule by this time after the city was captured from the Parthians by Kujula Kadphises, founder of the Kushan Empire. The great Kushan ruler Kanishka later founded Sirsukh, the most recent of the ancient settlement at Taxila.

Decline

By the 300s CE, the Sasanian king Shapur II seems to have conquered Taxila, as evidenced by the numerous Sasanian copper coins found there. Taxila’s ancient university remained in existence during the travels of Chinese pilgrim Faxian, who visited Taxila around 400 CE. He wrote that ancient Taxila’s name translated as “the Severed Head”, and was the site of a story in the life of Buddha “where he gave his head to a man”.

The White Huns swept over Gandhāra and Punjab around 470 CE, causing widespread devastation and destruction of Taxila’s famous Buddhist monasteries and stupas, a blow from which the city would never recover. Xuanzang visited Taxila in 630 and 643 CE, and wrote that the city had already fallen into ruin by the time of his arrival.

Modern

The renowned archaeologist Sir Alexander Cunningham rediscovered the ruins of Taxila in the mid-19th century by identifying a local site known as Sarai Kala (or Sarai Khola) with ancient Taxila. Prior to that, the location of the ancient city of Taxila, known from literary texts, was uncertain.

Geography

Taxila is located 32 km (20 mi) north-west of the Pakistani capital Islamabad. The city is located approximately 549 meters (1,801 ft) above sea level.

Climate

Taxila features a humid subtropical climate (Köppen: Cwa)

Economy

Tourism

Taxila’s ruins, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, date from as early as 1000 BCE, and are a major tourist draw.

Taxila is one of northern Pakistan’s most important tourist destinations, and is home to the Taxila Museum which holds a large number of artifacts from Taxila’s excavations. Though the number of foreign visitors to the site drastically declined following the start of an Islamist insurgency in Pakistan in 2007, visitor numbers began to noticeably improve by 2017, after the law and order situation in the region had greatly improved following the start of the 2014 Zarb-e-Azb campaign launched by the Pakistani Army against radical Islamist militants.

In 2017, the Pakistani government announced its intention to develop Taxila into a site for Buddhist religious pilgrimage. As part of the efforts, it announced that an exhibition on the Buddhist heritage of the region would be held in Thailand, and that the Thai government would assist in conservation efforts at the site. Relics from Taxila were also sent to Sri Lanka for the 2017 Vesak holiday as part of an effort to showcase the region’s Buddhist heritage. The Pakistan Tourism Development Corporation also announced in 2017 that a tour bus service would be launched between the Taxila Museum and Islamabad.

In addition to the ruins of ancient Taxila, relics of Mughal gardens and vestiges of historical Grand Trunk Road are also found in Taxila. Nicholson’s Obelisk, named in honour of Brigadier John Nicholson who died in during the Sepoy Mutiny of 1857, is a monument from the British era that welcomes travelers arriving from Rawalpindi/Islamabad.

Industry

Taxila is home to Heavy Industries Taxila, a major Pakistani defence, military contractor, engineering conglomerate. The city’s economy is also closely linked to the large Pakistan Ordnance Factories at nearby Wah Cantt, which employs 27,000 people. Cottage and household industries include stoneware, pottery and footwear.

Transportation

Rail

Taxila is served by the Taxila Cantonment Junction railway station. Taxila Junction is served by the Karachi–Peshawar Railway Line, and is the southern terminus of the Khunjerab Railway, which connects Taxila to the Havelian railway station. A planned extension of the railway will eventually connect Taxila to China’s Southern Xinjiang Railway in Kashgar, as part of the China–Pakistan Economic Corridor.

Road

The M-1 Motorway, pictured near Taxila, links the city to Islamabad and Peshawar.

The ancient Grand Trunk Road is designated as N-5 National Highway, and connects the city to the Afghan border, and northern Punjab. The Karakoram Highway’s southern terminus is in nearby Hasan Abdal, and connects Taxila to the Chinese border near the Hunza Valley.

The city is linked to Peshawar and Islamabad by the M-1 Motorway, which in turn offers wider motorway access to Lahore via the M-2 Motorway, and Faisalabad via the M-4 Motorway.

Air

The nearest airport to Taxila is Islamabad International Airport located 36.5 kilometers away. Peshawar’s Bacha Khan International Airport is 155 kilometers away.

Education

University of Engineering and Technology, Taxila is a local branch of the University of Engineering and Technology, Lahore.

Taxila is home to many secondary educational institutes including CIIT Wah Campus, and HITEC University. The University of Engineering and Technology, Taxila was established in 1975 as a campus of the University of Engineering and Technology, Lahore, and offers bachelor, master, and doctoral degrees in engineering.

Ancient ruins

The Ruins of Taxila include four major cities, each belonging to a distinct time period, at three different sites. The earliest settlement at Taxila is found in the Hathial section, which yielded pottery shards that date from as early as the late 2nd millennium BCE to the 6th century BCE. The Bhir Mound ruins at the site date from the 6th century BCE, and are adjacent to Hathial. The ruins of Sirkap date to the 2nd century BCE, and were built by the region’s Greco-Bactrian kings who ruled in the region following Alexander the Great’s invasion of the region in 326 BCE. The third and most recent settlement is that of Sirsukh, which was built by rulers of the Kushan empire, who ruled from nearby Purushapura (modern Peshawar).

Culture

Modern Taxila is a mix of relatively wealthy urban, and poorer rural environs. Urban residential areas are general in the form of planned housing colonies populated by workers of the heavy mechanical complex & heavy industries, educational institutes and hospitals that are located in the area.

Museums

Taxila Museum has one of the most significant and comprehensive collections of stone Buddhist sculptures from the first to the seventh centuries in Pakistan (known as Gandharan art. The core of the collection comes from excavated sites in the Taxila Valley, particularly the excavations of Sir John Marshall. Other objects come from excavated sites elsewhere in Gandhara, from donations such as the Ram Das Collection, or from material confiscated by the police and customs authorities.

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beneath-his-bones · 5 years

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• » Character Sheet: C'ehres Tia « •

» C'ehres carries on through life with heedless strides and indisputable candor. His bravado knowing no bounds, there is one thing for certain — trouble is never too far behind. «

› ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶦⁿᶠᵒ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘᵗᵎ

» The Basics

• Age: 27

• Birthday: 18th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon (November 18th)

• Race: Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te

• Gender: Male

• Sexuality: Pansexual

• Marital Status: In a relationship with Poki'to Smokefist and Azhi'li Ditreinu

• Server: Mateus

» Physical Appearance

• Hair: Shoulder-length platinum blonde hair, either bound in a low ponytail or half-up knot

• Eyes: Light blue

• Height: 5 fulms, 8 ilms (5'8")

• Build: Well-built from years of martial training

• Distinguishing Marks: (All of what is easily visible through the allowance of his usual modest garments) "Toasted"-colored tips of ears and stripes on tail, a small diagonal scar starting from the lower end of his forehead cutting through his left eyebrow, freckles

• Common Accessories: A leather necklace with a crimson gem, gold and silver chains, a golden ring woven into the shape of a gryphon

» Personal

• Profession: Mercenary, Top Brass of the Gilded Onslaught

• Hobbies: Singing, exercise, exploring

• Languages: Common

• Residence: The Goblet

• Birthplace: Ala Mhigo (the capital), raised in The Peaks, Gyr Abania

• Religion: Polytheistic, worships the Twelve

• Patron Deity: Rhalgr, the Destroyer

• Fears: Enclosed, tight spaces, being alone, failure

» Relationships

• Spouse: ???

• Children: ???

• Parents: Lucia Storme (adoptive mother, estranged), Darius Storme (adoptive father, estranged), C'rhijo Tia (biological father, deceased), M'eriene (biological mother, deceased)

• Siblings: Emilia Storme (adoptive sister, estranged), Arkhin Storme/alias: Jace Provost (adoptive brother, somewhat estranged, meets C'ehres on occasion but hides his identity), four other deceased adoptive siblings

• Other Relatives: Elliott Storme (nephew), Audrey Storme (niece)

• Pets: ???

» Traits

• Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

• Disorganized / In Between / Organized

• Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

• Calm / In Between / Anxious

• Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

• Cautious / In Between / Reckless

• Patient / In Between / Impatient

• Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

• Leader / In Between / Follower

• Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

• Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

• Traditional / In Between / Modern

• Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

• Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

• Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

• Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

» Additional Information

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

AESTHETICS: Black, gold, leather, deserts, gil, cigarettes, deserts, sunrises, taverns, brass knuckles, ruins, black coffee, fighting, empty city alleyways, heat, profanity, maps, frown creases, loud laughter, resting bitch face, messy hair

» RP Hooks

Hireling : Contractor? Fellow adventurer and/or mercenary? You either might've seen Ehres around hunting for jobs, worked with him, or mayhap you're interested in hiring him! From pest control to robbery, nothing is not within the scope of his undertakings.

Liberty or Death : Hailing from Gyr Abania, this miqo'te is fiercely proud of his heritage. Although not much of this is obvious at first glance, his voice has an Ala Mhigan lilt to it and he is often seen giving patronage to Mhigan establishments in Ul'dah in support of Gyr Abanian refugees. Having also taken part in the liberation of his home city-state, though under the command of the Immortal Flames, there is possibility for recognition between compatriots as well.

A New Challenger Approaches : Having a great enthusiasm for the thrill of combat and martial arts in particular, this miqo'te has honed his skills through the pugilist's guild in Ul'dah. Although not a full-fledged monk, he knows more than a thing or two about fighting and the offer of a spar is usually one to spark interest. To request of him providing his own tutelage isn't all that far-fetched, either...

» OOC/Contact

I could tend to be very shy, slow, and/or distracted, but I love talking to people and making new friends whenever I can. I'm adaptable to any story and theme and open to pre-established contact and long-term storylines alike. I'm a full-time college student and also enjoy partaking in in-game content, so I might not always be available for RP. My timezone is PST and my DMs are always open; I only give my Discord should I consider it appropriate. im also a huge shit idiot ooc

#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxiv rp #final fantasy 14 #mateus #mateus rp #about

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hmratking · 5 years

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18. Followed/Message

Shortly after midnight, Darius, a rugged dwarf with a scar across his face, stumbled out of one of the taverns in Ironforge. His eye was slightly swollen from the fight he had gotten in earlier and he was limping a bit after being kicked between the legs by a woman who wanted nothing to do with his advances.

It had not been a good night for Darius. Not only did he get beaten at the tavern, but he had failed to complete an assignment he had taken and he knew that there was a price on his head. “That’s what I get for messing with those fucking elves,” he muttered. The independent contractor had been failing lately and he knew he had several targets on his head. He had messed up with the Black Triangle, The Golden Daggers, and the White Lotus, but his latest mess up included the Night Serpents and the Rat Kingdom. Darius laughed as he accepted the fact that he was a dead man walking.

“Fucking tired, that’s what I am,” he muttered as he floundered into the dark caverns of the Mystic Ward. He wondered how long it would be until he was followed by one of the many henchmen. He wondered how his mother was doing, his sister, and the woman who bore his child. He wondered how his child was doing. And while he continued to ponder such thoughts, he laughed, his voice echoing around him, mocking his miserable life. “They don’t fucking need me.”

He heard the light rattle of a chain and he stopped. Someone was there. Someone had finally caught up to him. Darius drew his dagger and turned around. “Who the fuck is there? Show yourself, ya fuckin’ coward!” With his vision quite blurred and the location being dark, he couldn't make out the figure in front of him.

“Ya want me? Come and fuckin’ git me!” Darius was ready to accept his fate.

“A message...” the being said. Darius knew it was time, but the voice surprised him. Out of everyone that could have found him, what was he doing in Ironforge.

“You?” he whispered incredulously.

The being’s face lit up beneath a large-brimmed hat, the glasses on the man’s face lighting up a bright blue, revealing a grinning undead man. The undead’s hands lit up a bright arcane blue as well.

“A message from the Rat King.”

Darius saw the flash of blue arcane magic in front of him and as he fell back onto the stone floor, the blue faded, the echoes around him faded, and he saw the undead man gazing down at him before everything turned to black.

@turning-through-the-never @kharrisdawndancer

#october writing prompts #18 #The Flea #The Rat Kingdom #collecting debts #The Flea in Ironforge

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dariuspuckermannyc · 5 years

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Atlantic City || JARIUS

Jesse hit the final note of the song, one of his favourite Sondheim songs, and then turned the volume down on the radio, looking over at Darius in the drivers seat as they turned off from the freeway to the Atlantic City Expressway, signaling they'd be there in about 15-20 minutes, depending on traffic. He laughed, shaking his head, "thanks for humouring me with music control, babe. Best part of any road trip." He winked at him, and then looked out at the window as the city started to come into view. In the day it looked much like any other city, but he knew just from what people had said, that Atlantic City truly came to life at night. "I can't wait to see all the hard work you've been putting in."

One of the many things Darius enjoyed about Jesse to the fullest was to get the chance to hear him sing, and if that happened to be only for him to hear, like at that moment, with the two of them in the car, the wind barely audible over Jesse's amazing voice, so when he was done and thanked him for giving him music control on the trip to Atlantic City, he could only smile at him. "You know I enjoy our one to one concerts, babe. Don't worry." Darius was also excited to show Jesse what they had done so far, a work that had made him be away from Jesse for a lot of days at the time. "Your opinion is important to me, not to mention you're the main act on the night we open." He winked at him and chuckled, the car now driving under the arch that marked the entrance to the city, also known as the 'Las Vegas of the East'.

@jessestjamesnyc

Jesse laughed, "I know... I'm preparing my set list already. Though I know you have final say. I'll go more modern and less Broadway, I promise. Maybe a Queen song or two? Whatever you want me to sing babe." He knew he had told Darius before that he'd never been to Atlantic City, so everything that was appearing in front of their eyes was a new sight to him, especially once they reached the casino strip. "Are you looking on track to open when you'd planned?"

Darius smiled brightly and nodded. "I love it when you get to sing Queen songs! With all due respect to Freddie Mercury, whose voice can compare to none, you are the one who does it the best, and even give it your own special touch." He looked at him and winked, then continued to drive ahead. The sun would be done in a short while, so the casinos and hotels were already starting to show their flashing lights. "Tell you truth, we're running a bit on a tight schedule as of right now, but I'm confident that we'll bue ready in time. I made sure to hire the best contractors in the business, so that was one headache less." He chuckled, then took the exit to the right, where the hotels right next to the beach line were, and after a five minute longer drive they finally arrived. "We're here" he announced with a smile as he turned the engine off.

Jesse stared incredulously at Darius, and then burst out laughing which he couldn't stop for a few minutes, before wheezing and catching his breath, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry." He cleared his throat, "I mean, I'm flattered but I don't think anybody does Queen better than Freddie, not even me." He leaned over the console and pressed a quick kiss to Darius' cheek, before leaning back in his seat again, "but I appreciate you saying that." When they arrived Jesse unclicked his seatbelt and looked out of the window and up at the building next to him. He reached for the handle of the car door, opening it so he could step outside. He turned to look at Darius, and the beach behind him, "you've redone the front gardens, haven't you? They look different to the first photos you showed me... way better."

After they both shut the doors Darius clicked on the alarm control he had in his hand, the car now locked and secured, then he walked around the car and held onto Jesse's hand. "I did. Call me crazy, but palm trees seemed more like Florida, and we're definitely not there. I preferred a normal front garden that wouldn't distract your sight so much. Those palm trees almost blocked the whole main entrance!" He chuckled, then kissed his hand. "I'm glad you like it too. Now let's go inside to check the rest, come on!" Like an excited kid, he tugged Jesse along as he started walking, his long legs moving fast enough so that it seemed like he was towing the other man behind him, then as they made down the driveway that led to where the main entrance was he waved at some of the workers that were still there, of course al of them knowing who Darius was. "We have a three shift team of people, for a total of 18 hours a day work. Other than helping getting this done with in time, it helped creating a lot of work for local people, which was good, you know?" They walked through the main entrance, the lobby where the main desk was, marble floors at their feet and luxurious couches and sits all around to welcome people as they went in. "Down to the right the elevators which take you to the rooms, which we get to later-" He wiggled his brows at him and chuckled. "- and also that way takes you to the pool and gym area. Let's go see the casino, come on!"

Jesse couldn't help but smile at how happy and excited Darius was, in the moment. It scared him, because he knew that his job was in New York and now Darius' job would be in Atlantic City... but he was sure they'd make it work. He whistled softly when they walked in the main entrance, "fuck... babe, this looks amazing. It really screams luxury." He looked at him and smiled, giving his hand a squeeze, "okay. Lead the way."

Darius smiled, happy that Jesse also liked what they had done so far, then nodded and they both walked into the casino area hand in hand, the sound of drills and hammers still sounding in the background, but the main hall was already there standing with all the lights on, and it had nothing to envy any hotel in Vegas, which was where he had originally gotten the idea from obviously. "There are two levels for the casino, and they are games and everything you may want from one on each level, and also there is a bar on each one, plus the tables to simply sit on the upper level, from which you can look down on all of this." There were scupltures almost on every corner, even a small fountain in the middle of the big main lobby. "So? What'd you think so far, babe?" he said and pecked his lips quickly.

Jesse looked around and shook his head with a smile on his face, before turning to face Darius, wrapping his arms around his waist. "What do I think? I think you've done an amazing job... seriously, babe, I knew you were talented but I didn't know what to expect. I don't think I could have ever expected this though. It looks gorgeous. You're going to have customers flooding the place." He leaned in and kissed him deeply.

Darius blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Really? I'm glad you think so, Jesse. I mean... I only had the idea, and also did some drawings of what I wanted, how I wanted it to be, but all the people here did all the work. I mostly did all the bossing around." He chuckled, then hummed softly against his lips, his arms going around Jesse's shoulders and holding him close. When they pulled back he bumped Jesse's nose with his and smiled. "Having you here, being able to share this with you makes it all more perfect."

Jesse laughed when Darius said that, and then shrugged, "maybe so... but without your ideas, it wouldn't have been this, right? You still implemented it all. Besides, you're cute when you're bossy, so I'm sure the workers didn't mind too much." He smiled against Darius' lips. "Well, you know I love to see your hard work paying off, so I'm glad to be here, babe."

Darius smiled against Jesse's lips and nodded. "I suppose you're right. Let's call it team work then, huh?" He held him closer, their foreheads now resting together. "I wouldn't want to share this with any other. Only you-" He pulled back just a bit and smiled. "Let me show you the rooms! They're already done and ready to be used, so all that's left is finishing the area down here." He held onto Jesse's hand and tugged him to where the elevators were, pulling his own personalized card from the pocket to hail for it. They stepped inside when the doors open, an exquisite antoque decor inside the lift, completed with seats on the further end and mirrors on every side from top to bottom, then every three floors they would step aside and Darius showed him one of the rooms. Singles, doubles, triples and quadruples, all equiped and ready, then he finally took him to the top floor, which is where his card came in handy on the control panel of the elevator. The doors opened when they got there and he did a soft 'ta daaa' sound as he walked ahead of him, taking them both inside the penthouse that covered all of the top and higher level of the hotel. "Welcome to our Atlantic City home, babe."

When Darius said the rooms were already done and ready to be used, the corner of Jesse's mouth twitched up in a smirk, already thinking of all the uses they could get out of them. He let Darius pull on his hand to the elevators and then throughout the short guided tour of the various types of rooms that would be on offer, making compliments as they went. They'd been furnished perfectly to fit the age and history of the hotel, without feeling dated or musty. When they stepped out onto the penthouse, he whistled softly under his breath, "... holy shit. This is beautiful. Look at the view!" He made his way quickly to the window, pointing it out, forgetting that of course Darius had seen the view plenty, he was sure. "Wait," he turned to look at him, his brow creases, "our Atlantic City home... this room isn't for customers?"

Darius smiled brightly when he saw Jesse taking in the view of the ocean that of course he had seen dozens of times now, and he was glad he liked it as much as he did, then it turned into a grin when he saw the look on his face, and he walked up to him and put his arms around his waist as he looked down into his eyes. "Nope. This is my penthouse. Our penthouse. What better place to live than where I work? Makes the driving to work unnecessary, right?" He winked at him and chuckled.

Jesse leaned into Darius' touch when his arms went around him, shaking his head but with a smile on his face. "You're something else, Darius..." He chuckled and kissed his lips briefly, "something good, don't worry." He turned to look at the view and smiled, "I can't believe you kept the best for us. Plus, right at the top has got to mean it's more private, right?" He turned and smirked at him.

Darius giggled. "I always dreamed of having something like this, so why not going all the way, if I have the money to do it? I'll always thanks Louis for that Christmas bonus he once gave me... It was practically the base for all of this." He grinned. "This one penthouse, yes, I did it for us. Initially, I was just going to get a suite, but that was back before I met you, or before we got together. And yes..." He pulled him closer, their bodies pressed together. "Very private. And also soundproof, because we both know just how loud you are." He winked at him and chuckled.

Jesse slapped Darius on the shoulder playfully and shook his head, "lies and slander. Or maybe it's not... I'm a stage actor after all, have to be loud." He returned the wink, and looked around, "is there a bedroom for the boys here too?" It already felt so natural to refer to Gabriel and Isaac in that way, even though they both only had a weekend with them, it was still nice when those weekends aligned, and even more to picture spending a week away with them... though maybe avoiding the casino parts while they were too young.

Darius grinned and diped his head down to Jesse's neck, his lips nipping playfully on the spot of skin there. "Uh huh..." he hummed against the skin, then giggled. "Oh yeah, all about those amazing vocal chords of yours, huh?" He leaned back up and giggled before he nodded. "Yes, there is! Come on-" he said, pulling on his hand as he led him through the living room, then down the hallway until he pushed the door open. "One thing though... It isn't furnished yet. I didn't want to do that without your input in it, since it'd be also for your child. But look!" He walked in to where the big window was, tall enough for the children not to reach to it, and it had the same beautiful view the balcony had. "Pretty view, right?" he said, almost bouncing on the spot like a giddy child.

Jesse laughed and followed Darius as he lead him down the hallway, noticing the impeccable finishes along the way. He really had hired some fantastic contractors. When Darius said it wasn't furnished because he wanted his input, he couldn't help but smile widely. It was still an odd concept for him to grasp, that he had a son. And that Darius also had a son, and when the four of them were together, it really felt like a family... it was scary, that it felt like that so soon, but it did. "It's gorgeous," he said, looking out the window with a smile, "they're going to love it. Gabriel especially now, but Isaac too when he gets older." He leaned his head against Darius shoulder and enjoyed the moment before tilting his head to look up at him, with a slight smirk, "... when you say unfurnished... is that just this room? Because I would really love to see our bedroom."

Darius leaned his head back on Jesse's, loving the fact he had liked the room, and the whole place so far. He pulled his head back and looked back at him, also grinning. "Well, not really. Come and see." He pulled his hand and led him into the master bedroom, holding the door open for Jesse to enter. "It only has the bed, and the cabinet drawer. I needed somewhere to place all my stuff in while I was here working. Bt the rest of it, we can do it together too."

Jesse smirked as Darius opened the door and spoke. Their hands were still linked as the door shut behind them and he pulled Darius in the direction of the bed. "Babe, I promise you - there was only one piece of furniture I was interested in seeing in here right now." Their legs hit the edge of the bed and they toppled onto it, Jesse falling on top of Darius and looking down at him with a grin, "what do you say... should we christen it?"

Still reeling from the fact that Jesse had fully given the okay for their new place, Darius was practically bouncing on the spot, his face shining with a bright smile as he looked around; but the moment Jesse started moving him to the bed his smile turned to a sly grin, especially when they fell on the bed and his body was covering Jesse's completely. "I'd say that's the coolest idea ever... But just so we're clear, when have we ever needed a bed when we 'christen' anything?" He chuckled, then leaned his head down and kissed him deeply, leaving no room for a reply, or even a breath, at least for the moment.

It was, without a doubt, the best way to end the tour.

END SCENE.

#1x1 rp #matthew daddario rp #jesse st. james rp #para #discord

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logobosshomes · 3 years

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cursewoodrecap · 5 years

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Session 8: Difficult Neighbors

You’d think the time in between fighting monsters would be chill, but no. We finish up in Holzog, gear up for Mornheim, and deal with the one thing worse than monsters: locals.

We get down to brass tacks with appraisin’ items and stocking up. Gral and Valeria find out what their violin strings and Eyegis do, though the rest of us will have to find out later. Valeria makes some holy water and Shoshana brews up a couple of healing potions during our downtime.

We briefly debate whether to tell Quentin everything. We decide we’re for it; he’s working with the Cursebreakers, and they’re the organization that can best use the info we’ve found to connect the dots on how the Curse works and how to fight it.

“It’s still a hot take that the Curse had agenda, and now we know it has 4 agendas and 4 bodies, all under some powerful ward? They’ve got to know that.”

We go to the mining guild office where the Cursebreakers are. We are all visually searched. Witness Beatrice searches the ladies, which is a fairly chill affair since she can be pretty easily told to back off. Clem is fine; this is not her first strip-search or invasive interrogation, she tells us. What?

Gral has no such luck, and is being searched by Ser Quentin. “Well, sir Orc? Lose ‘em.” His hands are exceptionally cold. (Gral does want a professional to take a look, but. A little bedside manner, Q?)

While the girls are downstairs in Bea’s library, Valeria remembers: “Oh! We have thing for you!” We give her the Char Mender, and Bea totally forgets about strip searching us. Her eyes light up and she takes it to the cabinet of charred books.

We discover we have enough Char Mender to repair one book. (We should have evolved it, maybe.)

Bea focuses on 3 rare tomes that she believes were the target of the arson. “And it was arson, unless fires start on one end of the library, and then when I go to put that one out, another fire starts on the other end.

The books we must choose between:

The Study of Fiends, a demonology study commissioned by the Church of Torme. Unfortunately, the results ended up being a little too much of a how-to for summoning demons, so they never completed the full publication run, and it’s an extremely rare book. It regards demons and how they operate, different individual demons and what offers they are likely to make, the types of deals they make with people, etc.

Songs of the Druids, a study of the druids of the Greatwood, regarding their methods and secrets. There’s a lot of legend and poetry rather than purely academic research, but it’s the closest thing anyone’s ever really made to a comprehensive collection of information about them.

The Grimscale Essays, a collection of essays on necromancy and the undead, recovered from a Draco-Aquilian necromancer’s tower. It is banned to use the knowledge in these essays, but it is a valuable collectors’ item and may offer insights on how the undead function.

Though our upcoming trek to Mornheim tempts us toward the necromancy book, we select Team Druid, to know about our potential allies. Bea sighs wistfully. “That book had some beautiful illustrations. I hope those get restored too”

“Also, If Morozov asks - he was less interested in that one, but I’m gonna say you made me do it OKAY BYEEEE”

After we’ve all got our pants on again, Ser Quentin has us tell him everything. We do, withholding nothing except our spaceship adventure. Unfortunately, he’s an Inquisitive Rogue, and nobody lies to him. We fail our deception checks hard, so Shoshana awkwardly tries to explain their adventure on a space ship without having any idea of what a space ship is. It’s pretty disjointed, but she musters the defense that talking about the Confusing Forbidden Knowledge could have been a good way to get More Cursed. Fair enough. He can tell that we’ve got nothing else to hide, anyway.

“If what you say is true, you slew these musicians, who were responsible for the mist in the valley. If so, I guess we’ll have to see what happens. In the meantime it is now vitally important that I take these notes on your travels, make my way to Hoska Castle, and report to the other Cursebreakers. There are records there I will need to consult. The ‘Key’ you mention – my order is one of seekers of knowledge. So you can understand why I’m a little concerned that this is the very instinct targeted by one of our adversaries.”

We look at the tapestry again, to see if we can figure out any clues about the Prisoners. The foreground one has its antler helmet and wolf skin cloak - clearly the entity we know as The Hunt. The other figures are indistinct; the artist didn’t bother to differentiate them in this crude medium. All we can tell is that they are bound in roots.

We show Quentin the Eyegis. “In my professional expertise, this shield...is creepy. You should go ask an expert in magical items.”

Darius is called over to look at the Mysterious Pamphlet from the glove box. “Don’t some members of your order have the ability to read all tongues?” Sure, but he didn’t take Eyes of the Rune Keeper as one of his invocations though. Ooooops.

Daikon receives scritches! He finds a seed in Shosha’s hair from the woods, and eats it.

Valeria tells Quentin about us choosing the Druid Book for Bea, Luckily, she successfully Persuades. He sighs. “Considering what we have learned, it does make the most sense. You got this repair substance from Sturmhearst? We’ll see if we can get any more.”

Oh yeah, those guys. We warn him that being so close to the mists of the Key, what with them being seekers of knowledge, is probably Less Than Optimal.

Ser Quentin looks down his nose at us. “We have explicit instructions not to antagonize Sturmhearst, as they are a valuable ally and formidable foe. You understand that Ser Brigid has done this with the explicit intention of making us keep a close eye on them, yes?”

Oh, he has one more important question re: Sturmhearst. “You told them you were going to investigate the house? In that case, Darius, please send a request to the Baroness and her Condotierri.”

“In three days, a supply caravan will leave for Mornheim. Be there that morning and I will brief you. In the meantime the Fairgolds have interceded to have some rooms prepared at the Greencloak Inn, and I recommend you take up those rooms. Our offices are less than comfortable. If we need to reach out to you, I expect we’ll send Daikon."

After we leave the office, Clem goes back to Hammerstein and Sons to get that sword silvered. “It’ll be 150g to coat your greatsword in silver, but it’ll be hard to get it done in three days; an extra 50g will get you to the front of my queue,” says Bluma Hammerstein.

Clara Sons, her partner (business partner? life partner? We Just Dont’ Know), interjects “Bluma does have an apprentice she’s training; perhaps she could-“

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to teach her the process. If you’re willing to let the kid work on your baby there, I can bypass the 50g.”

“Is the kid proficient enough? I don’t wanna lose my ‘baby,’ as you call it.”

Bluma shrugs. “Ehhhhhhhhh? She’s very talented…yeah, sure, she’s a helluva hand with a whetstone, pretty good with a hammer, but this is a pretty complex process. Not gonna lie to ya: I think the kid can do it. And I’ll be there to supervise.”

Clem hands them her remaining bottle of High Elven vodka. If I give you this, will you be Extra Careful? They shake on it.

Clem also asks after a suit of splint mail. They have a Ventallan style one in the shop they could resize for her. Clara was refitting it for a Condotierri, but then he skipped out on paying, so they kept it. “It’ll cost 200g total. It’s quite a nice piece! I can get the black rook sigil off the shoulder for you.”

Clem’s about 40g short, and is thoroughly disappointed. Shoshana has come with, though, and has done all the shopping she needs to for her healing potions. And, because of the reward from Sturmhearst and Ser Quentin’s advance payment for the Mornheim expedition, still has more money in her pocket than she ever had as a poor villager.

“Here’s 50g,” she tells Clem. “Use it to not die; you can repay me by making sure I don’t die.”

Clem is ABSOLUTELY FLOORED. Why are you just giving me money??? It’s a pretty big thing for Clem. No one has ever given her money without expecting something in return???? What could Shoshana possibly mean by this huge gesture?????

Shoshana is like, no, we’re going to Mornheim, if we all die none of us can spend this cash.

“Oh, you’re going to MORNHEIM?!” Clara exclaims. “Here, why don’t I just inscribe a holy symbol of Lethe on that, free of charge.” She points to an absolutely destroyed chestpiece she has on her workbench. “That’s what’s coming back from Mornheim.”

Because Clem is an absurdly big lady, she needs a few parts taken from other pieces of armor around the shop to make it all fit. She has a Pretty Woman montage of coming out in different suits of armor for the armorsmiths and Shoshana. She ends up with kind of a hodgepodge of random armor.

“What are your thoughts on asymmetrical shoulder pads? I’ve got one from an old elven regiment, but I’ve only got the left one.” It has a bit of filigree on it, but nothing as distinctive as a regimental insignia. Clem smiles nostalgically and says she’ll take it.

Clara is momentarily distracted by Clem’s buff physique: “Nice shoulders.”

“Thanks, I made them myself?”

Anyway, we all agree that a clothing montage but with buff ladies in armor is The Future That Lesbians Want.

The Fairgolds want to party with us. Clem is like “are they paying?” No, so Clem’s out.

Gral has his responsibility to perform the Death Song for his squadmates. We attend and listen to him sing their death songs to pay our respects. The DM is disappointed he doesn’t get to roll on the carousing table, but the mood is decidedly not carousing.

The next day, we wake and stretch. Clem is a little disturbed by the décor of the inn – it features elven helmets over the mantle, and the owner claims the original curtains were made of the green cloaks of elven officers. Clem was excited at first to hear about the Greencloak Inn, but less so now. The story is that rebels scared some elves out of their camp by imitating howls of wolves and owlbears, and then stole all their stuff. It’s just sort of awkward, even though Keva and Valdia are no longer enemies.

Shortly after the town gates open in the morning, a familiar cart pulls up, pulled by two large lizards. “Bjorn! Get us some rooms! Ingborg! See to the mounts! I require breakfast!”

Professor Lucinius Galvan enters the inn, looking a bit more tired and scarred than last time. “Bjorn, Ingborg, stay in the cart, you’ll scare the locals! Innkeep, I would like two rooms, one with the largest beds you have! Where might I find a library, or a local guide! Oh, perfect – wait, what do you mean there WAS a library?! OH HEY, KYR ARGENT! Bjorn, Ingborg, bring the luggage in!”

We greet Professor Galvan with open arms, mildly surprised he hasn’t been eaten. “Any luck on your expedition?”

“I found truly fascinating results! Also ghosts. I saw some skeletons, but only after Bjorn and Ingborg were done with them, so...fragments of skeletons.”

“You’re certainly in capable hands with them,” Valeria accedes politely.

“I was able to dispatch the spectre who assaulted me. It was no match for good old Aquilian magic. The old spells still work! The good old ‘Scorpus Arcana,’ or ‘Magic Missile.’ They claim the new way’s more elegant, but is it really?”

Ooh, we ask him to tell us about the ghost.

“It was an Aquilian ghost! I attempted to ask it several questions, but it attempted to rip my face off. And truth be told, you don’t get a Ph.D. in archaeology without knowing when to abandon a line of inquiry!”

“I found the old Aquilian watchtower I was looking for! But the sigil for legion stationed here wasn’t for a standard flying legion. I’ve been trying to decipher exactly what their symbol means. I did find some records – inscriptions and pottery shards, describing how the Aquilians were working with locals. Very surprising! Especially with the Valdians’ reputation as - forgive me - rather backwards and uncooperative.”

The tower he’d found was clearly designed for both Aquilian (Aarakocra) AND terrestrial (human) soldiers and inhabitants! Elsewhere it wasn’t unheard of that they’d recruit locals, but the common narrative says that the locals were highly resistant to occupation. He’s been looking up stories about the original occupation from the perspective of the Valdians.

We tell him to go hit up Witness Beatrice if he’s looking for stories and knowledge. Also, Valeria takes the chance to talk to a proper magic practitioner. She says, “I found something interesting and, I wanted to ask you about it! Ser Quentin isn’t much for arcane artifacts, but you might be able to tell me what it does! And whether it’s going to multiply my eyes.”

“That’s a weird concern, but okay.” He examines the Eyegis. It behaves like a wizard’s familiar. One who is attuned to the shield can see through it so long as it is within a 120 foot range of the wielder. Valeria’s player LOVES it; Valeria accepts it warily.

Gral has already attached the strange violin strings to his lute and attuned (heh. TUNED), so he doesn’t need to Identify them. (He made a Deal with the Curse, the players find out, though he is not consciously aware of it.)

Valeria goes and introduces Lucinius to Bea, to make sure he doesn’t scare Bea. Bea is like “cool, a Professor!” Then she eeps and hides behind Valeria’s legs, because Valeria forgot to warn re: goliaths. Darius gives Valeria the stink eye for scaring Bea again.

Valeria makes sure to make her Holy Water out of water from the lake. Encouragingly, the Mist does not rise again during our time in Holzog.

We hang out with the Fairgolds. Flynn is a bit pompous, but likable once you get to know him. He and Fiona train every morning in the square. At night he’s busy telling stories and she’s busy drinking. There’s a portrait of them at their uncle’s inn of when they were younger. Flynn looks similar, but Fiona looks way different. Her hair is longer, and she’s not as muscled or scarred – she looks much more similar to her brother, and a lot happier. In the picture, she’s clutching a book. Shoshana, always interested in languages, learns a couple of Fiona’s hand signs over the next few days.

On Friday, we arrive at the Cursebreakers’ office early in the morning for a mission briefing. We approach to Morozov’s office. He hands us information packets, and begins his monologue:

“On my last expedition, as you may know, I was accompanied by squad of Elven veterans from an elite unit known as the Red Hand.” Clem nods intently. “They had worked with me on several other expeditions of a similar nature. Lady Aubrey von Mornheim, leader of the survivors of Mornheim, informed us of indications of some flavor of cult activity. We suspected perhaps a necromancer of some sort, but something odd happened as we neared the von Menzer family crypt, the resting place of noted mage Johann von Menzer, of Sturmhearst. Due to the patterns of undead activity, we believed this crypt was our goal.”

“We were attacked by an unusually large number of undead, working in concert. We were separated from one of their number, Sokolov.” Clem’s eyes widen as she seems to recognize the name, but she does not speak up. Quentin continues. “We were badly injured and I insisted we return to town. My companions refused to leave their comrade behind. I split with them and returned back to Mornheim to be in safety before the sun went down. They returned to Mornheim the next morning with Sokolov in tow, and immediately told me they’d no longer be in my service, effective immediately. I had to abandon the expedition.”

“Sokolov did not look especially well – not unusual for somebody trapped in that place. The strange thing is, and I mean no offense to your compatriots, Sgt. Haxan – I did use my contacts to have the Red Hand followed after they left service. I thought there was something off about them. Some left the wood, heading towards the Crownlands and old battlefields of the Ascension War. Some traveled as mercenaries, fighting for hire, never staying one place too long.”

He pulls out a map with pins stuck in it, red and black. “The red pins mark places that members of the Red Hand have stayed more than a single night. Black pins mark fresh instances of undead attacks.”

There is an obvious, recognizable correlation. “It’s not at every stop, but it always occurs about a week after they left. It’s not provable by any means; there’s no shortage of death in the Cursewood.”

Clem stands, her bulk becoming a menacing loom. “I’m sorry, are you implying that these men may have been behind these undead attacks?”

Ser Quentin is unmoved by her imposing presence. “I do not imply. I conclude, and I accuse. I am doing neither at this time. However, this obviously merits further investigation.”

“We learn nothing by sitting on our hands. Your mission is to enter the von Mentzer family crypt and find out what you can. If this is another one of these “prisoners,” I want to know everything you can find. A supply caravan leaves for mornheim tomorrow. I’ve hired the Fairgolds to help escort it – they will get the merchants there and back. You will not leave with the caravan. Stay in Mornheim and investigate as long as you feel able. You can reach out to me through any Cursebreaker outpost. Page 5 of your packet has names and addresses of those who can reach me. I will accompany you for the first leg of the journey, but part ways to go to Holska.”

“One more thing, Kyr Argent.” He hands her a sealed letter. “This is for the Lady Aubrey, please secure it among your belongings as you pack. It is a letter of introduction stating your mission and asking her to assist you.”

“Oh, and one more thing.” We hear armored boots click-clacking down the hallway. The door opens, we turn around, and the Baroness, somewhat disguised by a cloak, enters the room.

Valeria salutes.

“The Baroness would like to speak with you in private,” Quentin tells us. “Well, I’ll be here.”

The Baroness Francesca von Holzog appraises us with a calculating eye. “I take threats to Holzog very seriously.” Two knights enter behind her – one is a standard human Condotierri, while the other a is green skinned tiefling with solid red eyes and curling horns, wearing a black cape and fine armor with the Condotierri’s black rook sigil. “Now, allow me to introduce Captain Stefano Mozzeti, my cousin.”

He bows and says hello. The Baroness tells us, “He is the Captain of the Black Rook Condotierri, abd he would like to hear what you have to say as well. Ser Quentin has communicated a detailed report, and I have dispatched some of Mozzeti’s men to deal with Sturmhearst. They are an enemy I don’t enjoy making. Tell me what happened.”

Gral explains, rolling persuasion with Valeria helping. He reassures her that the musicians who were opening the portals are dead, and the mists should be gone for good.

“If a month passes and mists do not fill the valley, though they usually come once a week, we will see what we can do. The Condotierri are to search this house and burn any sheet music they find. Sturmhearst had already gone to the house, scattering like like pigeons when we kicked them out. I believe it would be unwise for them to have access to this music. If you truly have rid my barony of this threat, come to me in a month’s time and we will see if there is a reward for you.”

Captain Stefano looks Gral in the eye, as well as he can through Gral’s mask. “Orc, if those mists come back and my men die, you better be confident. If they die, and they were guarding that damned house in that damned hole, do not return to Holzog.”

“Yes, I would consider it a failure on my part,” Gral agrees.

“No, we would have….how you say, beef.”

Gral responds in his most diplomatic tone. “The Key works by getting agents. We want to stop it getting more agents in Sturmhearst, and you are doing that work to keep us safe.”

Still giving their best intimidating vibes, the Baroness and her cousin swoosh outtie. The Crown, everybody!

Clem rolls a few dice, as we return to Hammerstein and Sons later that day. 17! We find Bluma and Clara and a teenage girl. Clara has the armor, painted and dyed mainly a dark muted red-orange, with black trim, to make the cobbled-together set of armor a little more cohesive. She has drawn a little clementine tree on the pauldron.

Bluma says “All right, Reyna, c’mon, give the drow lady her sword back.”

The teen, hands shaking a little, gives Clem the greatsword, wrapped in cloth. “I silver-plated it for you, ma’am, Miss Bluma was watching me and I think I did a pretty good job.”

Bluma smiles. “The kid did fine. I got a dummy set up out back if you wanna test out the edge.” It’s kept its edge! Good rolls mean the trainee didn’t screw it up. At first glance, it still looks like dark elven steel. (This was NOT standard issue for the Red Hand, Clem stole it off some cultist during the war, probably.) She has to look very closely to see waves of silver worked in. There are no imperfections or nicks, and the edge is sharper since it’s freshly whetted.

“We’ve got a patented technique here in Holzog, leads to that nice wavy pattern. Recommend us to your friends, here’s a card,” Bluma tells her.

Clem approaches the apprentice, Reyna, and tells her, “It looks perfect. You are a credit to your family and your community. I thank you.” Reyna immediately tears up. “Sorry, we shoulda warned ya,” Bluma whispers. “She’s from out in the woods. Don’t think her family made it. We haven’t been pressing. We’ve kinda taken her in.” We bid a fond goodbye to the nice lesbians, and head on out.

In the morning, we meet in town square. We’re traveling with a merchant named Feivel, his drivers and three carts. One is loaded with food, one with medicine and building supplies, and the third has smaller locked chests and has room for passengers. We get on the road! It should be 4 days of travel to Mornheim.

1st day: no incident. We stop in a small village and camp in the town square, since there’s no inn big enough. Flynn entertains some children, telling a story about fighting a “moss ogre,” and then they play moss ogre and he lets several children take him down with sticks. Fionna watches and laughs. Her laugh is a weird wheeze, like she can’t quite form the sounds.

The second day is less peaceful. Along the road, Valeria nat 20’s a perception check and hears a person running through the woods – panting breath, tearing frantically through the trees, stumbling over brush – some medium-sized humanoid running desperately. Behind her, there are sounds of heavy footsteps and ferocious growls as she bursts onto path.

It’s a terrified-looking red-haired human teenager. “MONSTERS! HELP!”

Valeria is ON IT, positioning her formidable self between the woods and the carts.

“They’re right behind me!” the girl says, gasping for breath as she reaches the wagons. “At least three of them! Big, with sharp teeth and long- long claws! I think there’s others with them. Bandits, maybe?”

Shoshana insight checks her, and she genuinely seems terrified. “Feivel, we got incoming!” the sorceress calls. The Fairgolds step up next to Valeria to defend the carts.

The sounds of monsters get closer, but Something Is Wrong. The sounds aren’t getting close as fast as we would have expected? And then we hear something behind us – something on the other side of the carts.

The ‘terrified’ girl has a gun to Feivel’s head, and a line of bandits step out from among the trees.

A sly-looking halfling speaks for the group: “Bonjour, madams et monsieurs, my name is Henri deCannes, and these are the Free Thieves of Valdia. It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that we are robbing you today. I will not be so crass as to deny you your weapons, but you would please hand over all your valuables, if you will not mind. We will place all your weapons in this sack, and we shall put it in that tree. Then you can go get it, once we are gone.”

It’s right around here that we realize Ser Quentin is nowhere to be seen. Also his stuff is gone. Fuckin’ rogues with high Insight, amirite?

Shoshana raises her hand, like a kid in school. “Uh, we have like four knights with us?”

“Yes, that is why we are attempting to resolve this peacefully. Disarm, please.”

Shoshana places her staff primly across her knees, waiting to see what everyone else is going to do.

Flynn and Fiona are watching us, but like hell Fiona’s gonna disarm. It’s clear she’ll bust some heads first. No one else moves to give this guy their swords.

“My, so ferocious! And is that an orc with you! I must hear this story someday.”

Gral snarks, “You don’t make a good first impression.”

“Oh? If I am befriending you, I am not robbing you. If I befriend and then rob you, I am betraying a friend, and that would be a sin.”

Clem and Val go for the Intimidate. Valeria, the minor corruption of the Hunt glistening on her fangs, hisses, “Go find someone else to rob, this one is Ours.”

Clem says, “Excuse me, Mr. ...?”

“Henri deCannes, you may have seen my face on a wanted poster?”

“Henri, if I may offer some advice. I once tried to fight something much bigger than me, much as I am much bigger than you. Do you know what happened?” She leans in. “It nearly CRUSHED me under its foot. So I would much rather make friends.” She ends with the sort of smile that implies much, much danger.

He’s intimidated. Henri doesn’t want to fight her. But he’s not giving up, and tries to pull a few heartstrings.

“This Curse especially targets those who reside in the woods. We are especially prone to corruption. My people, the Free Thieves of Valdia - I have been called here to help them. We do not wish to be monsters, or savages taken by the curse.”

“You’d just be a different kind of savage, wouldn’t you?" growls Valeria.

“You wound me. My men, they would go to the towns, but they are not welcome there. They would leave Valdia, but that takes money. And time is running short.”

“Running short until what?”

“Until we lose our minds, madame! I want to get as many of my men out as I can.”

He asks where we’re headed. Shoshana cheekily tells him “Nunya.”

Gral speaks commandingly: “There is always another way. Forge new papers and live an honest life. You are not leading your men to safety, you are leading your men to pain. I would get out of our way now.”

Henri persists. “I will take those medicines, and nothing more. We have sick and injured. We will leave you your food and other supplies. We seek the price for a Galwan ship, or to pay for the false documents you suggest we get.”

Gral does some internal math. We have about 100g worth of medicine, but we’ve seen posters in town with this man’s face on them. His bounty is set at 400g.

The bard proposes a solution: “I see you care very much for your men. This medicine will be yours if you come with us and turn yourself in. Surely, if you are so concerned for their welfare, you would be nobly self sacrificial enough to trade yourself for their well-being.”

Henri nods. His bandits make protestations, but he shouts “Non! The orc is correct. If I must sacrifice myself for the Free Thieves to prosper, so be it.”

“Please hand your medicine to Anya here,” he tells the merchants. Valeria insight checks and rolls a 3, seeing that he is clearly honest about taking the bargain.

“Dmitri, Dmitri! Those shackles of yours, please! Dmitri, a bandit, hands Val some halfling-sized shackles. Clem’s kinda disappointed that the wanted poster specified “alive,” but ah, well.

Anya, the red-headed girl who tricked us, takes the crate of medicine and sprints back to bandits.

“Non! Do not wait for me! Be free, free thieves of Valdia!” Henri cries, dramatically. Valeria moves to cuff him, and the shackles go straight through his arms.

“Oh, and I am quite sorry, but...Ceci n’est pas Henri deCannes.” He vanishes, and the bandits sprint into the woods with the medicine. Trickster clerics, babyyyyy!

Valeria is FRUSTRATED at having been tricked so easily. Gral commiserates: “I see I am a bit too trusting in my aim for diplomacy.”

WELL. That’s a story that will seem funny to us later. At least we have halfling-sized shackles now, signed on one cuff by one Henri DeCannes. Gral adds, using Minor Illusion, “is a buttface.” On the other side is a holy symbol of Guile.

So having been hustled, we hustle along. Morozov rejoins us. “You lost the medicine?”

“Yeah, we’re idiots.”

Morozov has no regrets about his vanishing act. “I couldn’t run the risk of losing the evidence from my investigations. Couldn’t let it be damaged by a stray pistol ball.”

We arrive at next town and see Wanted posters of Henri, Anya, and several bandits. The camp mood for that night is decidedly subdued.

In the morning, Ser Quentin heads off in a different direction. “Alas, this is where I must turn aside. Best of luck to you.”

“And you as well,” we tell him politely.

“I don’t need luck, but I’m not so foolish as to refuse it. Good luck in Mornheim.”

As we head out, we commiserate about how much of a dick Henri is. Flynn concurs. “No offense, but I think I’ll leave this one out of the next story. If you do go after him, though, invite me. I’ll have a few pointed comments to make,” he gripes, playing with the hilt of his sword.

On the third day of travel, we make good time towards the spot we’ll have to ford a river. Fiona scouts ahead, feeling restless. Flynn is unconcerned. “If she finds anything, just listen for- well, you’ll hear her, trust me.”

She comes back a couple of minutes later, seeming kind of put out. She shakes her head and signs rapidly to Flynn. “She says the bridge is out,” he tells us glumly.

Sure enough, the bridge is quite smashed up. What happened here?

One of the players make a joke - what, was there a troll under the bridge? And we all suddenly feel the chaotic energy in the air of on-the-spot worldbuilding.

“Well, there WAS a troll!” We turn, and there’s a friendly local yokel passin’ by, a cheerful dad-looking farmer.

“Aw, sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya there, folks. Yee-ep, we had a troll! Fella named Trolskiv. A good one too, kept the bridge safe for us. Reasonable tolls, took payment in potataters. Real nice fella. But something got in his head, a while back. I think the ol’ Curse finally got to him, poor guy.

“Anyhow, couple weeks ago, the Hedgehog Knight came through with his crew and put an end to all that. Had to be done. Poor Trolskiv didn’t stand a chance. Just a real shame, all round. Even more a shame that he threw the Hedgehog Knight at the bridge and broke it!

Now, if you folks come by in the mornin’, we got a ferry comes across the river, that’ll get you across no problem. That’s what we’re doin’ these days ‘till we get the bridge fixed up. If yer gonna stay overnight, I’m sure you’re lookin’ for a place to stay. There’s an old farmhouse up the road, the family up and left a while back, tryin’ ta avoid the Curse. I’m sure no one would mind if you holed up there for the night!”

Shoshana rolls Insight: Nat 20. The guy hasn’t lied to us so far; everything he’s said has been 100% true. Yet... there’s something wrong. He’s got an agenda, somehow. Something is unsavory about this man.

We take a look at the bridge.There is in fact a sign on the bridge saying Troll, and a series of potential payment options. 5 potatoes per cart or for 3 people to cross. Nearby, the locals have constructed a modest grave for Trolskiv.

“Yep, it’s a shame,” the farmer continues, rambling like a proper small-town old boy. “One ‘a my sons went down south, there’s a troll couple work the bridge down the river. They got a youngling, ‘bout the age he’d be lookin’ to move out on his own. Once we get the bridge fixed up, we’re aimin’ on inviting him up here! It’s a good solid bridge with a nice den underneath, already all set up. We always said, it’s not a proper bridge without a troll under it. Important part of the local economy.”

Before this conversation, bridge trolls didn’t exist yet, but now the DM informs us that Shoshana knows all about bridge trolls. There’s plenty of stories about them in Valdia. Sometimes they’re bad guys, but mainly they’re responsible for guarding against bandits, maintaining the bridges, and collecting tolls from travelers passing through to help fund the town.

Valeria is so confused, because she’s used to Regular Trolls. They don’t take potatoes, they take your head off! Gral knows that the more mountain-dwelling orc clans have had skirmishes with the huge, vicious mountain trolls. Clem knows there are horrible ice trolls on the northern steppes of Keva. They’re right there with Valeria.

(We decide that there’s definitely a Beggar Knight who’s a troll. Lost their bridge in a battle, wanders the woods as a knight errant. We name her Ser Unkig. She’s great.)

Valeria decides to get some more info from this nice fella. “We’ve been out on the road quite a bit. Usually there’s generally some sort of danger, being outside of a big town. What’s the local lay of the land?”

“Well, it was Trolskiv until about a week ago. We mostly hid in our houses when he was out and about, but he kept the other nasties away. Ended up bein’ pretty safe, unless he tore down your door. He got real big and mean at the end there.”

He leads us up a dirt path through some farmland, and points us to a small house in fairly good repair.

“There’s the intact one. The folks livin’ there headed on out. Didn’t feel too comfortable with Trolskiv rampagin’ about, y’ understand, so they kind of up and left! Left their field, loaded up a wagon, took what they could and got out of here.”

Shoshana, her nat-20 insight still rattling around in her brain, is Very Nervous, and is nudging people and whispering that something is WRONG, she doesn’t TRUST this guy. Everyone else cannot figure out why she’s so squirrelly about some ordinary-ass dude who has been nothing but kind and pleasant.

Valeria,to placate her, Detects Evil and detects nothing. Nothing around the farmhouse, either. There’s a barn, and enough floor room for all our people. Just walls and a roof, and what sparse wooden furniture the previous residents couldn’t carry.

Weirdly, we’ve seen no villagers but him. We ask him about that.

“Aw, well, it’s really just me an’ my boys! Most folks live on the other side of the river, and my boys went down the river to get that troll.”

There ARE a few other houses; we could canvas around and corroborate his story. Valeria wants to trust him. Shoshana insists we knock on a couple of doors. The couple of neighbors we ask are very confused, agree with everything the farmer said, and give us literally no reason to be suspicious of anything. Everyone agrees Shoshana is probably paranoid. Shoshana is like “True, but we live in the Cursewood?!”

Still, the argument goes, “We can sleep in the farmhouse, or we can sleep outside. Outside is probably...not safer.” We settle in to the farmhouse. Shoshana insists on at least setting up a watch. She and Gral sit out on the porch, probably in cliche’d and picturesque rocking chairs, and wait.

In the moonlit darkness, the wind gently ruffles the long stalks of wheat. Especially in that one area, right over there.

Wait.

Shoshana rolls an excellent perception with her Curse-enhanced Darkvision, and picks up on a figure moving quietly through the wheat field - stalking, even, the DM would admit. The thing - no, now it’s things, plural, three of them - slip out from between the stalks and advance on the house.

Gral hits them with Faerie Fire, and Shoshana immediately blows her Horn of Silent Alarm to alert Clem. The rest of the house is woken by Clem surging out of her bedroll, screaming “AUUGH, FUCK.” Roll initiative!

(The DM lets us know that these creatures are called Blights. We disagree; they are clearly Wheat and Wheat Byproducts.)

As soon as the Faerie Fire hits, the Wheats abandon stealth and break into dead run, charging up to hit Gral and Shoshana. One of them pushes itself down, seeming to merge into the floor, and vines burst out of the porch to make it difficult terrain. Shoshana’s claw-like fingers and Gral’s sickle make a decent harvest, but the wheat strikes back, twining long strands around them and restraining them. This gluten is intolerant! Shoshana retaliates with Burning Hands, catching them all in the flames but also wounding Gral.

Gral is informed he may Do The Thing, so long as he has his lute on his person. He manages to play some freaking weird melodies, and his body gets woobly, and he phases out of the grapple like a mirage. His strange woobliness allows him to avoid AOOs, so he slashes at them and then gets some distance.

Clem runs out on the porch but can’t quite reach the Wheats due to the viney ground. Clem has slept in armor, but Valeria naively has not. She casts shield of faith on herself as she runs, grabbing a trident, and busts out glowing onto the porch.

One of the scarecrows in the field turns and drops off its post. It looks up, its eyes glowing a terrifying red as it sprints forward on all fours. That same viney wheat has formed arms for it, with rusted metal shears as claws. It attacks Valeria, but misses.

Fiona awakens and busts on out, furious and holding both her hammers, unarmored. She crits the scarecrow, though she isn’t raging, and does 25 fucking damage, because barbarians. Flynn, right behind her, snaps his fingers and a pistol appears in his hands. He fires, and misses.

The Wheat holding Shoshana slams her brutally into the ground and begins to drag her away, back toward the wheat field. Shoshana NOPES hard, rolls good and squeezes out of its grasp.

Gral pops Shoshana’s kidnapper with a crossbow bolt and Psychic Blades for a nice chunk of damage, blowing through the thing’s chest. It crumbles to the ground, a mere pile of grain.

Clem whiffs, the wheat wafting aside in the breeze. Valeria tries to pitchfork a scarecrow with her trident, but also misses. The scarecrow turns to Fiona, and its eyes glow a demonic red. Fiona fails her save – her face freezes in fear, her muscles lock up, and she is paralyzed. Flynn is not happy about it. “FEAR NOT!” he shouts, stabbing the one fighting Clem and wreathing it in the vibrating energy of Booming Blade. “If it moves, it’ll suffer. Bring it down, Clementine!”

“I will!” she shouts. “On my turn!”

The Wheat grabs her, restraining her with amber waves of pain.

Shoshana twins her Chromatic Orb again and misses one, but the one on Gral dies in a blaze.

Gral throws a Dissonant Whispers at the last Blight. It saves, but takes some damage. Clem busts out of its wheaty clutches, its glutinous grasp. Fiona, paralyzed, gets hit twice by the scarecrow but regains her ability to act, slamming her hammers into its soft, wheaty body. Flynn takes down the last Blight with his blade. “Are there any more of them?”

Fiona makes a sound. AH YES RIGHT.

Shoshana barely hits, but it IS vulnerable to fire so it takes damage-and-a-half. Gral pins his Psychic Blades to another crossbow bolt – it’s resisting non-magic damage but psychic is another story. It dies.

“Okay, NOW I think that’s the last of them,” Flynn concedes.

Shoshana feels vindicated, but also pissy. “I feel like the farmer guy could have MENTIONED that shit!”

Valeria, meanwhile, thinks this all sounds very familiar. In Ser Balderich’s story about the Summer Palace, the rose garden sprang to life and attacked.

Shoshana is ready to get up in the the old farmer’s grill, but his house is across that field. We don’t wanna go in the field at night.

Flynn takes watch. “If anything moves…” he says ominously, flourishing his pistol, “…you’ll wake up.”

We get what rest we can, though no one sleeps well after that.

In the morning, Shoshana marches over and bangs on the farmer’s door. “Hey. HEY. OPEN UP, YOU DICK, I HAVE A BONE TO PICK.” Nobody answers. She gets nosy and peeks through the windows. Empty. It looks lived-in, not abandoned, but there’s nobody there. The door is unlocked, so she goes on in to check it out.

She rolls a good investigate check. Searching the house, she finds a couple things. Yes, it’s lived in, but relatively recently someone packed and left in a hurry.

Second, and more importantly, she finds the floorboards all dug up in one of the interior closets. Coming out of the dirt there, and spreading out into the walls of the closet, there is a thick, sprawling growth of mushrooms and fungus.

Shoshana immediately puts her scarf over her face and gets right the hell out of there. NOPE NOPE NOPE. MAYBE WE SHOULD BURN IT.

Gral, outside the house, agrees. In the early days of the curse, before he went on the expedition, he saw creatures the orcs called “fungal zombies.” Fungus took took over what was near them, animated the bodies or other organic matter, and made them attack. Gral also knows that fire has historically been an excellent way to deal with THAT bullshit.”

Shoshana clears it with everybody that the plan is to burn this man’s house down. Then we burn the man’s house down. Other villagers come by to see what on earth is happening but it’s too late. They’re pretty upset and confused. But they look at how well armed we are, and decide not to question it.

Shoshana does protest that we didn’t burn it down with the guy INSIDE, he LEFT, stop looking at us like that. And he was an EVIL MUSHROOM MAN.

One of the frightened villagers volunteers some information. “Come to think of it, the fellas who lived there, Lieb and his sons, they showed up just a bit before Trolskiv started goin’ bad. You don’t think he was involved in that?”

We don’t know. So he’s not from around here?

“No, he’s a recent transplant from Bad Hersfeld. When Trolskiv went bad, everybody stayed in their houses and didn’t talk much. Didn’t know him all that well, but he seemed like a nice enough fella.”

We remember that the farmer, Lieb, sent his sons down the river to recruit a young bridge troll. Gral, knowing the destruction a violent troll can wreak, does not want this troll kid to be mushroomized. The Fairgolds are willing to check that out, if we finish escorting the carts to Mornheim. They’ll meet up with us there in a couple of days.

“Fire is very effective,” Gral advises them.

“Usually is,” says Flynn.

As they head off down the river, we can still hear them chatting. “Fiona, have you considered my idea of lighting your hammers on fire?” The hand sign she returns is one we all recognize. “Maybe I could figure out an ice thing with my blade. We could find a cool theme! You could dye your hair red-” Oh, she’s punched him. Another day in the life of the Knights Fairgold.

We take the ferry over the river without incident. It takes most of the rest of the day to reach Mornheim.

As we get close, the lush greenery of the forest along the road becomes thinner and more wiry, the trees less full of life. Animals look starved and diseased. The sound of carrion birds replaces twitter of songbirds. Everything has gone real fuckin’ Tim Burton.

We see a sign that says Mornheim. “C’mon, the town isn’t far,” says Feivel. “We can still make it by nightfall.” We trudge ahead along the winding path. Eventually we come across rows of trees, still bearing a few apples but sickly and thin. The hills have clusters of graves on them.

We crest a hill and see the town, a small cluster of buildings surrounded by a tall wall. In distance, we can make out several larger structures: a grand house on a high hill, and what looks like a cathedral. Heading downhill, there’s a sudden commotion inside a mausoleum to the left.

Once it had been pleasantly situated in copse of trees; now they are cracked and broken, and we can hear shouts of battle. The door to the mausoleum is roughly wrenched open as we approach. A rotting zombie stumbles back outwards, and falls. A woman in a blue coat and tall leather hat, wielding a sharpened shovel, plants her shovel in its neck and stomps, decapitating it. “THE EXIT’S CLEAR, LET’S GO!”

There’s an answering whoosh of flame from somewhere inside the tomb. “THANKS!” the woman calls. Then she notices us: “Oh hey, Feivel. Just in time. Let’s get into town, I got your payment right here!”

A goblin in a brightly embroidered bolero jacket steps out of the mausoleum, wiping dust and soot off her slightly smoking hands. “You’re not the usual guards,” she comments.

“Nope!” Valeria agrees. “Oh, would you be lady Aubrey? Ser Quentin sent us, he said to give you this.” She hands the human woman Ser Quentin’s letter.

The woman slits it open with a thin knife. She is, in every aspect, the Graverobber from Darkest Dungeon. She carries a sturdy pick, a sharpened shovel, and a whole bunch of daggers. She reads Ser Quentin’s letter as we walk through the graveyard, casually, as if she hasn’t just run out of a tomb of exploding zombies.

“So!” she says to us. “Letter says you’re idiots. Well, it says you’re here to investigate and get to the bottom of stuff, so…idiots.”

“Honestly, knowing Ser Quentin, we’re just surprised and gratified he didn’t say it explicitly,” Shoshana quips.

“Aw, Q’s a big softie once you get to know him,” Aubrey tells us, smiling. We’ve reached the town walls, and she shouts up to a couple of guards. “Open up!” The gate grinds open slowly, and Feivel hurriedly rushes his carts inside.

Now that we’re in safe territory, Lady Aubrey turns to inspect us properly. “Can I get your names?”

The DM confirms that Clem is no longer using her uniform, with its Red Hand insignia, as armor, so Aubrey doesn’t recognize it. “Sergeant Clementine Haxan,” she introduces herself.

“Sergeant, eh? Part of the Czar’s forces?”

“Indeed. I was stationed with the Red Hand.”

Aubrey squints at her. “I don’t know anything about the Red Hand, but last group Q brought… these folks wouldn’t wear red gloves, would they?”

“They sure do?”

Aubrey’s tone grows more hostile as she eyes Clem suspiciously. “You here to bring more trouble to my town, then? We’ve had enough of elven soldiers here.”

“Just the opposite. We’re here to help.”

“Yeah, that’s what the first ones said. The ones still here have been no end of trouble to me and mine.”

Clem is shocked. We’d thought all of the Red Hand had left Mornheim! “What do you mean, the ones still here?!”

Aubrey points outside the wall, where the undead roam. “Livin’ out there. The undead sure seem to listen to them. We’ve had to cut our expeditions short, which means I can’t pay for Mercedes and the other mercs to protect the town, or for Feivel to get supplies.

“You’re gonna go out there, fine. But if you die, do me the favor and have the courtesy to stay that way. Anyway, Aubrey von Mornheim, pleasure to make your acquaintance. Welcome to town! Hope you survive it.”

#session recap #mornheim #aubrey von mornheim #valeria argent #clem haxan #gral omokk'duu #shoshana bat chaya #quentin morozov #witness beatrice #contractor darius #lucinius galvan #holzog

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