Bloody Murder
Log Info
- Title: Bloody Murder
- GM: Subduction
- Characters: Aelwyn, Eztli, Rocky, Harkashan
- Location: Alexandria
- Summary: Adventurers investigate a series of murders, only to find a follower of Illotha at the end of it all.
The adventurers responding to the call for aid from the city watch have been asked to assemble at the temple of Vardama, where the Watchman in charge of the case- Harrik- A gruff 40-something human with dark skin and eyes, grey touching his short cropped curly hair and moustache, heavy creases in his brow from a lifetime preference for scowling. He is accompanied by a Vardamite priestess- Margot- a woman of similarly middling age, skin pallid from more time spent in crypts than the sun, and carrying a touch of extra weight under her stately grey robes.
The latest victim lays on a cold stone slab between them and the adventurers, a young woman, barely twenty. A shroud draped over her from shoulders to ankles for modesty- she was found stripped entirely of any personal belongings. Her skin is sunburned, evident even in the pallor of death, and pox-marked. What can be seen is also scored with multiple long, thin gashes in her bloodless flesh.
GAME: Harkashan rolls Heal: (1)+9: 10 (EPIC FAIL)
Harkashan sptes into the temple of Vardama wearing his usual garb. Watching Harrik and Margot as they enter the room with the victim. The Sith-makar then bows his head, and rumbles; "Do we know their name?" He asks, considering the young woman's body.
He considers the small wounds. Long, thin gashes. Thin daggers? Claws?
"Found without vampire bite marks." He rumbles. "Yet found without any blood..." There's a concerned sound from him.
He looks to Margot; "Would be allow me to rouse her mind temporarily, so we may speak with her? Learn from her what happened?"
GAME: Aelwyn rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (14)+5: 19
Aelwyn stood nearby Rocky, his own equipment loose and sloppy on him in that fashionable, rogue-ish fashion. Which makes him a perfect person to advice Rocky on how to tighten the straps. "Pull it under like that, yes."
The draconian was content to let the more knowledgeable people to do the investigating, but he does stray closer to take closer look at the wounds, just in case. "Sharp blade cuts, Lava." He says, after a summary examination. "See, one has to loosen the buckle lest it gets tangled..."
Eztli was one of the adventurer's called in for the work. The small makari however, lingered at the door the moment they entered. Eztli was looking phyiscally ill, or at least, as much as a makari might look ill, and very obviously uncomfortable.
"I don't know who or what did this, but anything doing something like this, I hate it." They mumble mostly to herself, there's a pause, and a weakest of nods to Harkashan at the suggestion of talking to the deceased.
Harrik shakes his head at Harkashan and when he speaks it is with a broad country accent- likely moved to the city rather than born here, "No clue. Couple folks come to identify 'er, what were missin' someone, but neither knew 'er. Reckon she were a beggar, probably got no family t' speak of. Lookit them pox marks- that's vagabond wastin' if I ever seen it. Found 'er in the Tormwar, like the rest. Coulda been dumped in upstream, but 'taint snowmelt season, so not that far up stream I don't reckon." he says, eyes moving from Harkashan to the corpse. "Aye, daggers I reckon. There's these, too." he says as he steps to the foot of the stone slab and pulls up the blanket a bit. Ragged holes through the victim's feet. "If I had to guess, I'd say meat hooks."
"Post-mortem." Margot interjects, stepping closer. "But prior to exanguination." she adds. "Many of these cuts were post mortem- to drain the blood, I believe. The killing blow is here." she adds. She speaks with a scholarly detachment, and handles the body gently but directly, tilting it to the side so that a deep wound in the back can be revealed. "A single blow, piercing the heart." she explains.
At Harkashan's question to her, she rests the body back against the slab- adjusting the shroud to cover her once more, and gives a short nod. "Of course." she assents. Harrik's hand moves briefly, but is caught, and he takes a step back away from the slab, looking troubled.
Rocky falls still, his thoughts distracted by possibilities and guesses. "...were the other victims killed in similar fashion? To stike true in one blow requires skill. Perhaps not great skill, but some." He falls quiet again a moment. "Vampires come to mind with missing blood, but do the drink cold from the dead? Those with pox? What else uses blood? Some sort of alchemy, perhaps?"
Aelwyn falls silent then, when the more morbid details are shared. "Drained of blood and meat hooks." He repeats, then lets out a click of his teeth, looking at the corpse again. "This part of the world shares a foul interest." There's a roll of his shoulder. "It seems plenty are interested in experimenting with bodies. Barrels of wine. Containers of disease. Morbid circus games."
The draconian takes a deep breath then and moves to settle somewhere nearby, watching Harrik and Harkashan with passing interest.
"I don't like this, I don't like this at all." Eztli mumbles quietly to herself, barely able to bring themself to watch for the mourner's explanation."
"Someone killed them with intent, for certain, but for what? Why would they need their blood?"
The small makari shudders and shakes her head. "If you don't want to stay for the spell to speak with the deceased, I understand." She adds to the guard. "But as much as I dislike it, it might help us understand what's going on, and, the Vardaman's should know who she is for their proper rites."
"Aint jus' this part of the world." The gruff watchman says Aelwyn's way, and then scoffs at Eztli. "Stomach's strong enough, been doin' this job fer long enough." he adds then. He folds his arms over his chest and waits.
GAME: Harkashan casts Speak With Dead. Caster Level: 9 DC: 18 GAME: Harkashan rolls Diplomacy+: (5)+16+: 21
Harkashan dips his head down deeply as Aelwyn speaks of the weapon that was used. A sharp blade. There's a long moment of thought here. Harrik would be able to read that even though Harkashan has made the suggestion, it isn't one he makes lightly. Considering the young woman, but also those around him. Pensive. Is this the right thing to do?
"I understand your discomfort." He then remarks to the Althean man. "So I wish for you to remain. So you can see that we remain respectful to this woman in passing. And ensure her family get the closure they need."
He makes sure to wait for a moment, before taking out three Lava Rocks from his bag. One onto the woman's forehead, one to her shoulder, and one to her other shoulder. He rumbles a prayer that translates to an apology to wake someone from their peaceful slumber...
Then touches that rock upon her forehead once more, and lets her wake slowly. Bringing back her memories.
Harrik grunts his assent, and makes a gesture. "Do what you have to do." he tells Harkashan then, and returns to watching with arms folded. Margot, for her part, seems much less perturbed. She stays a respectful distance and watches, quietly, herself as Harkashan goes to work.
As the prayer is spoken and the stone touched to her brow, the woman's back arches and head tilts slightly, and her eyes flitter open- milky white pools glow in them, a shadow of the veil between this world and the next. Her lips part, and she breathes a sigh as a semblance of consciousness returns to her. She stares, unseeing, waiting for the questions to come.
Rocky stays still and quiet. The warrior may have some insight to the rousing of the departed, but ninty percent of that is 'every one is different.' Leave the magic stuff to the magic users.
Harkashan watches as the woman begins to wake. The glow entering her eyes. Harkashan makes sure that she is not in a bad place first, before he bows his head.
"I apologize for drawing you from your sleep. But we wish to know who or what did this to you, before they strike yet another victim." He rumbles to the corpse. "But before we ask you this, please, <Who are you>?" A more broad question than just asking her name.
It takes a while for the woman to begin speaking, as though there is a delay between Harkashan speaking the words, and her departed soul hearing them. When she does speak, it is in a distant echo- spoken from the halls of waiting, across the veil to pass her dead lips.
"Hhaaaa... Harry... Harriet... beggar... nobody..." she rasps.
Aelwyn continues to stand in the sidelines, but he does glance over Eztli's direction, finally acknowledging her discomfort. Or his own. He stands near her and lightly taps her ankles. Nobody told him that this was going to be one of those missions.
"You are not a nobody, don't let anyone tell you otherwise just because of your status. People just like to tell you that to make your life seem less important than theirs." The small makari speaks up, almost transfixed by the ritual, only brought out of it by Aelwyn nudging her. She wasn't even certain if the spirit would be able to understand or hear anything not a question.
"Ah, sorry, thanks Aelwyn." She mumbles to the dragoon, before turning to the body. "Just, if you ask about what happened, be gentle about it please Harkashan. I'm sorry that this happened, but who did this to you, Harriet?"
Harkashan rumbles, nodding at Aelwyn. He will pass along the question: "Who or What did this to you, Harriet?"
There is another long pause before she speaks again, her lips moving slowly, deliberately, as she breathes the words. "D-don't know... didn't see... dark... night... behind me" she tells Harkashan, eyes still unblinking, transfixed on the grey ceiling above her.
"Did you hear or sense or experience anything unusual before this happened?" He asks of her. A third question. Trying to not keep this connection up longer than need be.
"Unusual... don't know... Wally dissapeared... last week..." she says. Harrik unfolds his arms and stands up straighter, "We found a man, about a week before her. Another vagrant." he tells the group. "Same injuries." he adds.
"Smelled... sour... fish..." Harriet adds.
Harkashan rumbles; "So a pattern, perhaps. Preying after the vagrants of the city." He bids. He taps a clawed finger to the side of his muzzle, thinking this through. It is difficult, when there is little to go on. But, a plan is at least forming.
Then, Harriet adds something about 'sour fish'. He looks at the other Adventurers, as if asking them what that might mean.
"Aside from being without a home, was there anything that connected you and Wally - such as where you slept - Harriet?" In case this was perhaps motivated due to a nationality.
"Slum... old city..." the voice speaks, "Lower... trades... old building... abandoned..."
"It sounds like we have a place to start looking then." Harkashan rumbles to the rest, looking to the investigator once more. "Is there any last question you might wish to ask of her?" He then asks of him. "One last question, before we let her pass in peace?"
Rocky says, “.....family?”
"I don't know what sour fish might mean, but it does sound off." The sorcerer agrees quietly. "It might help, maybe. Should you ask her where she was, or what she was doing when this happened? If we have an idea where this, well, took place, it might help."
Eztli hesitates, and sighs. "But it would be better for her to ask about family or next of kin, I agree."
"I'd ask her where she was when she got stuck." The investigator says then, "She didn't see who did it, but she-" and then Rocky makes his suggestion and he pauses, and heaves a sigh. Gives a nod. "Or that. See if there aint anyone that might want to say goodbye, that don't know she's gone."
Harkashan nods his head. It is important to investigate this, but...
"We can figure where she was later. I assume we can look around the area you found her body originally." He rumbles to the investigator.
"What was the name and address of your family, so we can give them closure?" The man asks of her.
AElwyn bows his heads. "This one often serves as a courier in that part of the city." The draconian says, before he falls quiet again, letting the last question and 'byes for the dead.
There's a longer pause this time, before she begins to speak again. The voice is further away, quieter. The light in her eyes is beginning to fade. The halls are calling to her, and the power of the spell is waning. But she does answer. "D-daughter... Gabby... Three summers past... gave her up... mothers temple... Mom... dead... dad... never knew..." she says.
The light wanes from her eyes, and she settles back against the slab, silent once more.
Harkashan carefully makes sure her eyes are closed, before he takes the three Lava stones. A long exhale escapes him, before he looks up to the rest of the team. "Let's look into where they were staying. There may be other itinerants who know more. And if not, it may at least give us more insight." He rumbles to the group.
He then looks to Harrik; "Do you know roughly the area she spoke of?" He asks.
Rocky chuff sadly. "Not too surprising she had no real family left, but there was a chance. I am content the risk was taken." He nods to Harkashan, generally familiar with the part of the city, but far from an expert.
Harrik gives a curt nod, "Some idea. Down 'tween the lower trades an' warehouse districts, regular tent city. Lots of abandoned buildings." he says then. "We tried a spot of canvassin', but the itinerants don' hold much love fer th' watch. Carry on past Goblintown, hang a left away from the river just before the Ox-Strength. You'll know the area when you see it."
"I don't think it was a waste regardless." The small makari states firmly as she finally is able to look away from the body. "I'm not sure which temple it is that she was talking about, but they can be told, so Gabby can know if she wants to in the future."
Eztli sighs, and wipes away at her snout. "Yeah, that's a good plan. We'll figure this out, and stop anything like this from happening again."
Aelwyn nods his head towards Harrik. "This one thinks he might know where the place is." He flashes his teeth. "And if not, at the very least it will be a scenic tour."
Turning his head towards Eztli though, the seriousness falls over his face and he puts his hand over the shorter makari shoulder. "We will figure this out."
Harkashan nods. "Let's hope a bunch of Adventurers have a bit more luck than the watch then." He remarks, and motions for the others. "Let's get going and try to figure this out. Based on what we've learned so far, we may have some sort of serial killer at hand."
And with that, he motions again for Aelwyn the lead, and starts to head on out.
GAME: Harkashan casts Magic Vestment. Caster Level: 9 DC: 18 GAME: Eztli casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 8 DC: 16
The group take the winding side roads away from the main thoroughfare, and it's just as Harrik said- they know it when they see it. Or rather, they smell it first. The scent of people living too close together, with too little access to clean water and proper healthcare. Sweat and sickness. Alexandria is a bright jewel of a city in many regards, but it still has its fair share of grime, and this is one such blemish. Where the market panhandlers are eager to beg for coins, the desperate and dejected people here are sullen and quiet. This is home to people who have given up on a brighter future, and simply seek to be left to exist, taking warmth and comfort wherever they can.
Eyes are averted from the adventurers at times, and at others rueful glares are given. But by far the majority simply ignore the group, staying in their pockets of shade in decrepit entryways and threadbare tents.
Rocky has been here. Not HERE, here, but to places like it, far more than he likes. He still doesn't know what to do with himself. He wants to help, but some burdens he can't lift. And so he stays close to the group, keeping an eye out for troubles, dangers he can fight.
Aelwyn leads the group along the streets of the city; it was not as scenic route as he was proclaiming it to be, but they did find their destination. As it is. The draconian, in all his ruddy glory, didn't seem to mind the grime and dirt at all, just taking it as a background. Even the rueful glances he seems to shrug off. It was almost pointed ignorance.
"... so this one believes this is the sour fish." Aelwyn rumbles. "What is our course of plan?" He asks from the rest of the group, sliding his glaive down from his shoulder.
This isn't the first time that Harkashan has been in a place like this. Recently he had to deal with a rather unusual device near an abanoned warehouse - where itinerants had been taken over by some kind of spell of sorts.
"Our plan is to ask around. We know Harriet's name and Wally's. Approach them with respect. And if they ask you to back off, back off. Some of them are likely to be afraid." He rumbles to the group.
As such, he moves forward and gets to the nearest group of homeless and proceeds to ask them if they happened to know Harriet and Wally.
GAME: Harkashan rolls Diplomacy+2: (7)+16+2: 25
Eztli is clearly more than a bit uncomfortable in the small village within the city of Alexandria. Being on edge from their prior visit did not help. "I didn't realize things got so bad..." The small makari sighs. "I don't know why people aren't helping them, unless they just are unaware like I was?"
"Of course, they may not want my help, and of course, I'd rather not cause trouble for anyone." She nods to Harkashan. "Let's just, excuse me, are there any healers living here? I'd like to know how they've been dealing with recent events if there are."
Harkashan's approach is eyed warily, but knowing a couple of names does wonders to break the ice. "Aint seen neither in a couple of weeks." one of them says. "Why, the butcher get 'em?" an weathered, toothless crone wonders. "They was shacked up together. Probably one of them. /Evangelical/ types." she surmises.
Eztli's question is met with open derision, "If there was, you reckon they'd be here long luvvie?" she's asked.
Rocky chuffs softly to Eztli. "Many try to help. Many more need help. If you have food for only half, how do you choose which go hungry? Many find it easier to feed none, equally. And some try to exploit, abuse. Makes suspicion on those who do want to help. Things are bad, but these pockets are few. Some lands, this is everything, everywhere." He speaks softly, his voice set not to carry. He may speak the truth, so far as he understands, but others may disagree. Perhaps violently.
Aelwyn moves to halt Eztli once again, sliding his hand on her shoulder. "The sun lands unevenly." He tells hers quietly. "Do not become a light without minding the shadow." The ruddy draconian then nods towards Rocky. "Let us focus on the task at hand."
Harkashan, speaking to the homeless folk, nods his head. He touches the side of his cheek, then respectfully shakes his head. "I am afraid the butcher indeed got them." He rumbles, before lowering his gaze a bit.
He's not playing at trying to be understanding. Homeless communities like these are practically similar to Sith-makar communities. They look after their own and are protective. "We're trying to stop this from happening to anyone further." Before tilting his head. "Are you suggesting the Butcher may be a holyman of sorts?"
Eztli blinks, and the small makari huffs once. "Yes, I would think that if there was, they would stay around to help, unless something happened." The sorceress answers quietly. "I just thought, well, nevermind."
The small makari takes a step away, nodding once to Aelwyn. She decides to take a different approach, and instead quite literally sniffs around, trying to see if any place smelled particularly bloody.
"Maybe, maybe not, but I reckon he thinks he is." The crone informs Harkashan. "Them what got got so far was all turning tricks or knocking boots." she adds then. She lifts her chin at one of the larger buildings in the area- it looks like it used to be a warehouse of sorts, but the planks are rotten and the roof has partly caved in. "Wally an' Harry was bunking there, if you wanna stick your snout in."
GAME: Eztli rolls perception: (4)+5: 9
"Hrrrm." Harkashan rumbles, considering the remark on the evangelist and nods his head. "I will go check it out. Thank you. I hope we can help your community." Before touching his chest. "The name is Harkashan." He bids to her.
He gives a few moments, in case there's a fellow introduction, before he motions for the team and then starts heading over to that large building / warehouse.
'Turning tricks or knocking boots'... it takes Rocky a few moments to parse the meaning... and what that has to do with a killer holyman. Softskins are weird. Nodding politely to the Elder/Crone/person, the greyscale heads for the large warehouse building as well, a part of him expecting some sort of horrible demon lurking inside. Another part slaps the first part upside the head, certain it's just some beggers trying to scrape by.
Aelwyn bows his head at the others, before he moves on to follow Eztli, glaive held over his shoulder with a relaxed grip on the haft. He tries to keep himself somewhere between her and the rest of the group; in case any trouble starts brewing.
"Oh, well, my name is Eztli, it's nice to meet you regardless, I wish it was under better circumstances." The small makari greets before she continues on. "I don't know if the blood is gone or being stored somewhere, I can't tell here. We might need to just check where this holy person is, and see what their deal, is."
"Betty." She offers in return, giving a smile that reveals that she's not /completely/ toothless. She has one brown incisor left, hanging on for dear life. Eztli is ignored as she sniffs around, getting a nose full of little other than the general ambiance of the slum.
Approaching the warehouse, it smells of wood-rot and stale smoke. The recent sunny weather has dried it out to tinder material, so a fire inside seems deeply unwise, but sometimes necessity is unwise.
The door half hangs from rusted hinges, and is missing a pannel, allowing one to peer inside. An industrious little sapling had managed to push its way through the foundations, sickly in the dingy light that makes it through the patchy roof. A pile of rags in one corner looks to have served as a bed, and a broken barrel serving as a lopsided table.
GAME: Harkashan casts Light. Caster Level: 9 DC: 15
Harkashan, upon finding the Warehouse, illuminates the area around him with a quick Light spell, and ducks his head in. Getting an idea of this place. He's noticed there's another large building right across he has to keep in mind.
"Let's avoid any flame." He bids to Rocky, who is nearby. "I may be 'lava', but I still don't want a building collapsing onto my head." He rumbles, as he steps into the building.
The floorboards creak as Harkashan makes his way inside, some of them have already broken away revealing patches of dirt and gravel beneath. The itinerant couples sparse posessions, a pair of ancient boots, a satchel with the stone-hard remains of a mouldy loaf of bread and a cheese rind, a tin cup missing its handle- seem untouched. Or perhaps that is all that is left after anything else was stolen. There's not even a copper piece to be found here, so that is a distinct possibility.
There is another door at the far side, leading out to the rear of the building.
Rocky chuffs in quiet agreement, staying outside for now. "I may be Stone, but a falling building may hurt a bit." The second building gets a wary eye, but focus stays with Hark and Eztli.
Harkashan takes his time to investigate the place. His pace is slow. Each creak of floorboards getting a bit of a /look/ from him. When it creaks too much, he motions for Eztli. "You're a bit lighter." He motions at his armor. And works together with them...
Until he spots something. "Hey Rocky. Aelwyn. Eztli." He point to what just looks like a set of floorboards in particular. "Help me lift these."
Rocky hesitates. If the boards creak under Harkashan's feathery weight... "...may be easier to push down." Still, the granite skin moves towards the indicated boards. Carefully.
Aelwyn stands outside in guard whilst the others investigate; but when the call comes he looks inside and wanders in. "Something under the boards?" He asks, carefully making his way in.
As Rocky and the others draw nearer to the boards they can smell damp earth, and something else. Something sour, something fishy. And a hint of iron.
"If that was directed at me, don't worry Harkashan, I don't plan on setting fire to this place." The small makari huffs. "This place already has enough troubles,they don't need even more."
Eztli does creep inside, taking a look around. There's another nod to Harkashan as she steps over a few of the floorboards, over to another side where she was ready to help pull them up. "Smells awful here and... either rusting metal, or blood. I don't want to assume things, but this seems important."
Harkashan nods. "Okay, I'll do some minor spell preparations, then let's break through and go down there. But if it smells like blood, we may have found what we are looking for." He remarks, letting the others create a road downwards.
He in the mean time, lets silvren-red light slither out from his body. Warm pulses that fill people with energy.
GAME: Harkashan casts Bless. Caster Level: 9 DC: 16 GAME: Harkashan casts Owl's Wisdom. Caster Level: 9 DC: 17 <OOC> Harkashan says, "Aelwyn~" GAME: Harkashan casts Bull's Strength. Caster Level: 9 DC: 17
"Hmh, Lava is nothing but magical, is he?" Aelwyn rumbles with a flash of his teeth, moving to tap the larger sith on the calves with his tail. "Let us not tarry too far longer. This one is already dreaming of TarRaCe and the scented baths."
The boards come up easily- rusted nails have already been pried loose once before. Beneath there is a narrow tunnel, barely wide enough to wriggle through on their bellies for the larger members of the party, and uncomfortably confined even for Eztli.
"I do not know about Magical." Harkashan looks at the narrow tunnel for a bit, and does try to crawl down for a bit. But it doesn't take long for him to know what is obvious. He is too big for the hole.
<"It seems to be going east. Let's try out the building to the east."> He recommends - except... his voice seems to come out in their heads instead.
<"This way, we can talk while you crawl through there, Eztli. Let us know if you run into any issues.">
Rocky is a big guy. In a small hole. This was never going to go well. It could, however, have gone somewhat better. In theory. ".....um... a hand, please?" Backing out, with minor effort, the greyscale chuffs. "Maybe is better to stay on the surface... for now."
Aelwyn also tries to follow - but he is too large! The moment of elation is soon replaced with a grave look on his face, and he nods. "Let us investigate the other building, then." The draconian takes a look back, before he begins to head outside towards the other building.
Eztli dissapears through the damp earth- As she crawls on hands and knees, the smells grow stronger- the sour smell, the smell of rancid fish, and the smell of blood. It is definitely blood- there's no mistaking it now. It takes a few minutes for her to move through the tunnel. When she emerges, it is into a basement that seems... unusually well-appointed for the area. The floor is tiled, the walls made of stone- save for where they have been removed to grant the secret egress. There is a ladder leading upwards to a hatch above, and shelving in the room.
There is a drip... drip... drip sound in the dark basement. A body, a naked man, hangs upside down in one corner. He is covered in blood- his own, from numerous slashes in his flesh. It has run down the length of him, dried in places, and pools on the ground beneath before seeping away into a drain.
Back on the surface, the others have enough time in the interim to move across the street. The other building has a faded sign next to the door- it was a Tannery, once. And still smells like it. Like fish oil and tannin.
"Alright, I'll keep going, I'm surprised Aelwyn can't fit." The small makari calls back, only to find that it wasn't said, but thought. As well as sounding nothing like the small makari they just left in the tunnel, rather, much more feminine, and without the roughness or sibilance of a sith-makar. "Wait, this is my thoughts, sort of? I'd rather not have people seeing what I'm thinking." They huff internally, pushing away any errant thoughts for the time being as she kept going through the tunnel until it finally in a new location. "Okay, I think I see it and, gods, I think I found where the people were taken." They relay to the others, sounding horrified. "There's someone strung up on the wall, draining blood, and there's a ladder leading up from here. You might be able to get up from above.
<"I think your thoughts sound fine, Eztli. Do not worry."> Harkashan answers her. His internal voice much like his external.
The door to the next building is openened, and Harkashan already steps in. He sees the ladder at the back of the room, but isn't sure exactly where Eztli is in her crawl. What he does know is this smell.
"Sour fish..." He rumbles to the group. "I think we have found what we are looking for." He rumbles. "But let's proceed carefully from here-on out." And begins to lead further inwards.
<"How are you doing, Eztli?"> He then asks telepathically.
Only to hear the status report. He motions. <"Yes, we see the ladder!"> Before moving towards the door across. <"You two head down to find Eztli. I will scout up here real quick.">
Inside, the tannery seems just as run-down as anywhere else in the area. The equipment is all gone, likely repurpose or sold as scrap ages past. All that remains are a few broken pieces of furniture and cabinets. There is a hatch in the northwest corner of the room, and a small pit which was likely once used for storage. There is a back room, closed by another rickety door. When Harkashan opens it, he finds that it is not locked. Inside is a pile of rags or- no, not rags. Discarded clothing, stained here and there with blood. Some of it old, dry and brown. Some of it still red and wet.
<"Soon there, Spellreader."> Aelwyn adds, before moving towards the ladder. He glances towards Rocky and gestures for him to move in first. "This one can watch the rear."
Rocky is... nonplussed... to hear the thoughts of another. But, that's magic. Accepting it with a shrug, the warrior heads across the way, moving towards the ladder when it's existance an implications are pointed out. Whatever happens next, he doesn't want Eztli to be alone in a converted meat locker. Well, 'without allies', alone might be okay.
Finding the bloody clothing, but nobody else in the extra room, Harkashan feels like the building's shape is a bit odd. But he doesn't have time to check for a secret door right now. Instead, he heads downstairs with the others, wanting to make sure Eztli is safe!
Rocky's shouted warning is not quite quick enough for Eztli, sadly, and as she turns she finds a dagger plunging into her gut. The dagger is held by a skinny, sallow half elf. Pale skin, scraggy balding pate, sunken eyes- eyes with a manic look in them. "You just HAD to interfere, didn't you. DIDN'T YOU!?" he demands, twisting the blade buried in Eztli's gut, and then wrenching it free. His eyes dart around the group, frantic. "You had to come and RUIN IT!" he screams at them, his hands are brought up- both clutching daggers, to put the heels of his palms to the sides of his head. "I know I know I know I KNOW." he says, though who this is directed at is unclear. The man is clearly unhinged. "Just a few more, just a few more, just a few more..." he mutters to himself.
There's a rather disconcerting feeling as two voices react to being stabbed suddenly, one in their head, one from the makari who was just stabbed in the stomach. One hand instinctively clutches their gut, unable to stop more of the blood flowing outwards. "Srry, I'm not dead yet." The small makari growls. "And you aren't harming anyone else, now."
Eztli is still left holding their stomach as the blood continued flowing out of the wound, and the sorceres manages to stagger away, bringing up a hand that conjures a pair of flaming spears, but a pang of pain causes the first to go wide and fizzle out, the second managing a much better shot that burns the manic butcher.
GAME: Eztli rolls 1d20+8+1+1: (2)+8+1+1: 12 GAME: Eztli rolls 1d20+8+1+1: (17)+8+1+1: 27 GAME: Eztli rolls 4d6+4: (13)+4: 17 Round Two - Init 14. It is now Rocky's turn! The Butcher is next! GAME: Rocky rolls weapon9: (5)+12: 17 Round Two - Init 12. It is now The Butcher's turn! Harkashan is next!
Rocky growls as he moves, knocking into crates and junk as he tries to move swiftly without running in to anyone or tripping himself. His large blade swings through the gloom, but fails to connect. "I aam now your foe. Stab from the front, coward!"
Round Two - Init 10. It is now Harkashan's turn! Aelwyn is next! GAME: Harkashan casts Blessing of Fervor. Caster Level: 9 DC: 19 GAME: Harkashan rolls Spellcraft: (13)+15: 28 <OOC> Harkashan says, "Before I forget, I will take +2 Sacred bonus to my AC." <OOC> Harkashan says, "For being an Inquisitor." GAME: Eztli rolls spellcraft: (9)+9: 18
"This is a sneaky one. Get into formation. Do not let him reach Eztli." Harkashan rumbles to the group, storming forwards while casting a spell. A flow of energy suddenly hitting the team of Sith-makar. Rippling red heat entering their veins,
"No. No more." Harkashan answers the one before them, who's just hurt Eztli severely!
"Do not try to flank this one. It won't work." Harkashan analyzes, recognizing the same kind of techniques that Rune uses within the man's movements while boldly approaching him!
Harkashan, spotting just how fast the man is moving, rumbles; "Careful. He is affected by a spell of speed as well. Be wary of others in this chamber or elsewhere. Though they may have just used a scroll of portion." He bids.
Round Two - Init 4. It is now Aelwyn's turn! Eztli is next! GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon12+3: (6)+12+3: 21 GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon12+3: (14)+12+3: 29 GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon12+3: (17)+12+3: 32 GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage12+2+1d6: aliased to 1d10+4+2+1d6: (5)+4+2+(6): 17 GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage12+2+1d6: aliased to 1d10+4+2: (9)+4+2+(3): 18
Aelwyn sees Eztli get stabbed and his eyes go wide. "Stay behind us!" He tells her as his glaive suddenly bursts into flames. Heedless of the danger posed by fire in such close quarters, he steps in between Rocky and Harkashan, moving to slice into Rethan. His blade slides from above, then with a heavy blow again, and finally once more, though this time he scrapes the ground.
"Bleed!" The ruddy draconian seethes. "Bleed my fire!"
Subduction advances the initiative order. Round Three - Init 18. It is now Eztli's turn! Rocky is next! GAME: Eztli casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 8 DC: 18 GAME: Eztli casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 8 DC: 18 GAME: Eztli rolls 1d20+8+2+1+1: (12)+8+2+1+1: 24 GAME: Eztli rolls 1d20+8+2+1+1: (13)+8+2+1+1: 25 GAME: Eztli rolls 4d6+1+4: (9)+1+4: 14 GAME: Eztli rolls 4d6+1+4: (11)+1+4: 16 Round Three - Init 14. It is now Rocky's turn! The Butcher is next! GAME: Rocky rolls weapon9+1: (9)+12+1: 22 GAME: Rocky rolls weapon9+1: (3)+12+1: 16 GAME: Rocky rolls weapon9+1-5: (3)+12+1+-5: 11
Rocky presses in and attacks, divine power adding swiftness to his blade as it swings through the gloom. Swiftness, but not accuracy, as the blade fails to connect.
Round Three - Init 12. It is now The Butcher's turn! Harkashan is next! GAME: Subduction rolls 17: (5)+17: 22 GAME: Rocky rolls weapon9+1: (1)+12+1: 14 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon12: (7)+12: 19 GAME: Subduction rolls 29: (6)+29: 35 <OOC> Subduction says, "Perception rolls." GAME: Eztli rolls perception: (12)+5: 17 GAME: Aelwyn rolls perception: (2)+1: 3 GAME: Harkashan rolls Perception: (16)+10: 26 GAME: Rocky rolls perception: (10)+13: 23
"I'll stay behind you, I'm not going close to that guy if I can help it." The sorceress grunts to Aelwyn while still attempting to staunch the flow and failing, the purple robes staining more and more red. "He is hasted by something or other!" She agrees with Harkashan, conjuring another pair of flaming spears that thud into the man, burning him badly.
GAME: Subduction rolls 2d8+5: (11)+5: 16 GAME: Subduction rolls 1d8: (6): 6
To be fair to the Sith-Makar who swing and swing again at the Butcher, his movements are almost faster than the eyes can track, his body twisting and leaning in rapid jerks toavoid the attacks. He ducks low, and dashes away from the group, dissapearing behind a cage in the corner of the room and then merging into the shadows in a barely perceptible blur.
GAME: Subduction advances the initiative order. Round Three - Init 10. It is now Harkashan's turn! Aelwyn is next! GAME: Harkashan casts Archon's Aura. Caster Level: 9 DC: 19 GAME: Harkashan rolls 5d6: (19): 19 <OOC> Harkashan says, "Everyone heals 19 HP." GAME: Subduction rolls 5: (17)+5: 22
When the Butcher ducks away in hiding, Harkashan rumbles; "Aelwyn, see if you can post up at the stairs. Make sure he can't flee from this room." He remarks to his Sith-makar ally. "He's too fast to follow with my eyes. So I am going to try and slow him down a bit." He notes as a warp of light appears around him, making the room feel like it just shrank a few inches for a few moments, an aura reaching outwards!
Followed by a pulse of pale red-grey light. "How are you feeling, Eztli?" He asks, as peoples' wounds begin to slowly seal up.
Round Three - Init 4. It is now Aelwyn's turn! Eztli is next! GAME: Aelwyn rolls intimidate: (2)+11: 13 Round Four - Init 18. It is now Eztli's turn! Rocky is next!
Aelwyn would nod his head towards Harkashan - but instead he seethes at the air, bringing his glaive up to bear. "Come dance with us, burnt corpse!" He rages, as he brings his glaive about. Perhaps he tried to do grab some of the miscellaneous objects - but instead his glaive sweeps across the tables and furniture, sliding the objects off to the floor in a display of what seems to be aimless rage.
GAME: Eztli casts Mirror Image. Caster Level: 8 DC: 17 GAME: Eztli rolls 1d4+3: (3)+3: 6
"I'm doing a lot better now, thanks." The small makari responds as she's finally able to free her blood soaked hand as the bleeding seems to have stopped for the time being. "We aren't letting them get away."
Eztli makes a few waves with one hand accompanied by an incantation rumbled in draconic, and six small makari explode into existence around the sorceress, mimicking their movements and obscuring the real one.
Round Four - Init 14. It is now Rocky's turn! The Butcher is next! GAME: Rocky rolls intimidate: (18)+9: 27 Round Four - Init 12. It is now The Butcher's turn! Harkashan is next!
Rocky moves to block the easiest path past the shelves, eyes sweeping the gloom. "Coward! A true servant serves in the light! Sneaking in darkness is for bugs and worms!"
GAME: Rocky rolls perception: (13)+13: 26
GAME: Subduction rolls 13: (9)+13: 22
As Rocky moves past the shelf and issues his Challenge, Rethan comes rushing out from the shadows with his dagger at the ready. Blinking his own blood from his eyes, the dagger finds only a shield. His yellowed teeth are gritted into a grimace, "Not a worm! Not a worm! NOT A WORM!" he cries out, as the tip of the blade grinds against the steel of Rocky's breastplate.
Round Four - Init 10. It is now Harkashan's turn! Aelwyn is next! GAME: Harkashan casts Bestow Curse. Caster Level: 9 DC: 18 GAME: Harkashan rolls Melee+1: (19)+7+1: 27 GAME: Subduction rolls 5: (4)+5: 9
Harkashan listens to the others moving into position while Rocky manages to get the murderer to step out. That moment, where Rethan tries to slice Rocky, Harkashan suddenly grabs at his wrist.
"The Death Singing Dragon sends their regards." Followed by a sudden bite of a Curse ravaging the mans body. Red lines spreading across his body, like a tattoo. Snaking around his throat, his hands, his legs. Constricting him through his skin! At times making it look like an invisible force was squeezing at his throat!
Round Four - Init 4. It is now Aelwyn's turn! Eztli is next! GAME: Aelwyn rolls acrobatics: (14)+9: 23 GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon12: (20)+12: 32 (THREAT) GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon12: (17)+12: 29 GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage12+2+1d6: aliased to 1d10+4+2+1d6: (2)+4+2+(4): 12 GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage12+2: aliased to 1d10+4+2: (9)+4+2: 15 GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage12+2+1d6: aliased to 1d10+4+2+1d6: (4)+4+2+(1): 11
Aelwyn watches the other two move towards their quarry. Turning his head - and attempting to find the real Eztli to talk to - he calls out, "Watch his steps!" He turns and with a running leap, he slides neatly over the shelves blocking his way. The Dragoon then uses the momentum from air to bring down his glaive, severely injuring his foe with the trails of fire. "It is over, butcher!"
Round Five - Init 18. It is now Eztli's turn! Rocky is next! GAME: Eztli casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 8 DC: 17 GAME: Eztli rolls 4d4+4: (12)+4: 16
Eztli tries to get a good angle on the butcher, but the small sorceress can not. Eztli sighs, and instead snaps her fingers, causing a quartet of glowing orange motes to appear, which dart around the obstacles and thud into the man's torso, hard. "Just what is going on with this person?" They wonder as somehow they remain standing.
Round Five - Init 14. It is now Rocky's turn! The Butcher is next! GAME: Rocky rolls weapon9+1+2: (17)+12+1+2: 32 GAME: Rocky rolls weapon9+1+2-5: (11)+12+1+2+-5: 21 GAME: Rocky rolls damage9: aliased to 1d10+5: (3)+5: 8
Rocky hesitates for just a moment, then swings his blade, guided by divine magics. Blood flies, but The Butcher still stands. For the moment.
Round Five - Init 12. It is now The Butcher's turn! Harkashan is next! GAME: Subduction rolls 1d100: (60): 60
Bloodied and beaten, scorched and seared the Murderer reels from attack after attack landing- his earlier luck running out, or perhaps fatigue catching up with him. "No, no, no no no..." he wails, eyes watery and bloodshot. "Don't send me to Her, don't send me, I'm not READY! It's not DONE!" he cries out. His own blood runs in rivulets down his body, snaking through the grout between the tiles and making them slick as it joins the sticky residue left by his victims.
It seems he has yet more to stay, as the veins of red, cursed magic writhe their way up his body- his lips move, his tongue wags, but all he manages to produce are a few stunted, choking sounds as his arms hang slack and his eyes widen.
GAME: Harkashan rolls Khopesh+1: aliased to weapon1-strength+wisdom+1: (3)+8+-1+5+1: 16 GAME: Harkashan rolls Khopesh+1: aliased to weapon1-strength+wisdom+1: (18)+8+-1+5+1: 31 GAME: Harkashan rolls Khopesh+1-5: aliased to weapon1-strength+wisdom+1-5: (7)+8+-1+5+1+-5: 15 GAME: Harkashan rolls damage1: aliased to 1d8+1: (7)+1: 8
Harkashan stares down at the man. Watching those watery eyes. The wailing. There's possibly something to be said here. But Harkashan is a Deathsinger. Those who mutilate and kill like this... those who do these kinds of things...
"As I said. You are /done/." Harkashan answers him, suddenly grabbing at the back of the Murderer's head after Rocky slices through part of him. Using that moment the Curse hits, and brings his Khopesh back for a moment...
And then, still holding onto the back of his head, stabs the Khopesh clean through his chest and leaves it there for a moment.
Whispering into the man's ear. "I hope your mind will find peace in her lair."
Before releasing his head and pulling the blade out, letting him drop to the ground. Letting him bleed to death.
The body falls slack and limp, his daggers clattering to the ground either side of him as the strength goes out of him. His chest rises once, twice as his already pale skin grows paler still and his life's blood escapes him. He will pass within moments, to go to whatever afterlife awaits a monster in humanoid skin such as him.
With one final, wet exhale he is gone and his body lies lifeless on the ground. The air grows still, the faint trickle of blood dripping through the drain in the corner.
Eztli looks past the shelves, and the small makari sighs. "Good, it is done. He won't be harming anyone else." She growls. "I'm just lucky there was another entrance to this place, I don't know what I would have done if I was alone. So don't worry about it, I'll be okay"
"I don't know what would bring him to do this, but at least he's been stopped." The makari sighs. "We should take a look around. See if he has anything from his victims, or anything that might explain why he did this, or who he was working with."
"Was this the 'holy man' spoke of, or someone else?" She continues to wonder. "If it's not him, were they hiding their presence in the building?"
GAME: Harkashan rolls Perception: (10)+10: 20 GAME: Aelwyn rolls perception: (14)+1: 15 GAME: Rocky rolls perception: (11)+13: 24 GAME: Harkashan casts Divination. Caster Level: 9 DC: 19 GAME: Subduction rolls 1d100: (29): 29
When all is done, Harkashan makes a small prayer for the man. Heartless monster he may have been, but he recognizes this man may have been under some influence, or simply gone mad through other means. The others had referred to him as thinking himself some kind of evangelist.
"Bring our watch friend here, so he may observe. In the meantime, I will make burial preparations." He speaks to the others, pulling a burial cloth from his satchel and covering the man's body.
"We can Speak with this man later, once his body has been readied."
He puts a lava rock on each corner of the cloth, before leaning over for a moment kneeling down for a moment. Putting some gems down before himself, and rumbling a wish in Draconic. "Would leaving this matter uninvestigated further lead to more misery?" He asks of the Deathsinging Dragon's psychopomps.
Words echo in Harkashan's mind after completing the spell, ethereal and distant, stern and direct all at once. <"This one comes not to Her, but goes to darkness. His Mistress claims his kind, who take lives before they are owed. This man was but one of many, but he was one alone.">
Harkashan rises slowly. Rumbling as there's talk of this man's mistress.
"I do not yet know who his Mistress was. But it seems he was acting at this alone. There are others under his Mistress, but if I interpret correctly, not actively acting in this matter." He bids to the others.
"Then let us burn his body and be done with it." Aelwyn says, glancing towards Eztli. "It was foolish of us to let you go alone." He suffices to say, but then bows his head, with his ribbons falling forward. A moment later, he begins to ascend the stairs. "This one will retrieve the watchmen."
GAME: Rocky rolls knowledge/religion: (13)+2: 15 GAME: Eztli rolls perception: (13)+5: 18
Rocky chuffs, crouching low to look over the body. "A mistress of murder and darkness? One name springs to mind, another follows. Which one matters little, but good to know was acting alone. Was there anything of note in the rooms above?" Chuffing again, he motions to the Butcher's tarnished silver pendant, which depicts a pair of crossed daggers. "I have seen this image before, but am unsure it's meaning."
"All in due time, Aelwyn." Harkashan rumbles to the ruddy Sith-makar. Letting the others take a moment to inspect the man's corpse. It's the piece of jewelry - the silver pendant - that he takes note of.
He looks at the daggers for a moment. "No Kukri..." He rumbles. "No Blood's Kiss." Before turning to the others. "Yet this symbol. I think you are right Rocky. Look closely. The daggers. This is one of Illotha's." He notes.
Eztli is content to allow Harkashan to see to what he needed to do, and the small makari instead takes a look around. "It looks like he was cutting them up further when they got here, to drain their blood. All his tools are on a table over there." Eztli notes, sounding a touch disgusted. "It's... worse than a vampire, somehow. At least they need the blood for a reason, but it's just being drained into the ground here, senseless."
There's a pause and a glare at the tarp, and Eztli looks ready to rip it away, and use it for the body she was working on bringing down from where it was hanging, but she realizes that it was part of some ritual. "As much as I hate to admit it, they still need funeral rites." She sighs. "Illotha? Never heard of them. But if there are more people like him doing these sorts of things, then that's trouble."
Aelwyn moves to lean against the stairs then, crossing his arms across his chest, glaive within them. "This one finds these mistresses can be found in many places; yet few drain their victims and shout of worms." His tail thumps against the floor.
Illotha. Rocky's nose wrinkles in distaste. "Betrayer. Lady of Hate. Goddess of Murder. Almost as bad as her mother, Taara."
GAME: Harkashan rolls Knowledge/Religion+2: (16)+13+2: 31
"She's a lesser god. Child of the Tormenting Dragon and the False Dragon." Maugrim and Taara. "Though this does not appear to be a proper ritual or sacrifice to them." He adds, looking around. "I am not an expert on The Deceiving Dragon..." Illotha. "But I do not believe this one was truly a faithful."
He points at the daggers on the ground. "They are not Kukri. This man was a serial killer... a psychopath, under delusions." Harkashan bids with /some/ measure of certainty to his voice. "But, she took him into her realm. His soul is hers now. So... foolish as he may have been... she recognized his acts."
With the blood-soaked basement thoroughly investigated, the party summon the city watch- to tell them of their discoveries and the defeat of this murderer. They are prompt enough to respond, Harrik coming along with a squad of guardsmen with chainmail and halberds. They sweep and clear both of the buildings upstairs, but find nothing the adventurers did not already. The personal effects are catalogued, and it becomes clear that there are several bodies still unaccounted for. The latest victim, the man the party found hooked up and bleeding, is taken away, to the mourner's temple.
Later, clear of the stench of blood, in Harrik's office he speaks to the adventurers. "Nasty bloody business, that. Rotten all th' way through." he huffs and shakes his head. "Glad you took care o' him, tween you an' me, the gallows is too good for his like." he huffs. "Bounty, as promised." And slides a sack of coin across to them, "Some of his gear were magic, I'm told. Standard guild contract, its yours, if you can stomach it." he tells them. "Were up to me I'd burn the lot." he adds.