The Flayed Man part 18

Malik kneels in the center of the room, the ashes of the document in a brass bowl before him. The spell is -- well. It's boring, really. The wizard makes gestures over the bowl, incanting the phrases that will restore it to its previous condition, fingers interlocking in complex mudras as the phrases pour forth almost automatically. Slowly, gradually, a slight mist starts to form in the bowl, concealing the ashes in a pool of fog that sparkles and crackles with miniature flashes of lightning as /something/ appears to be happening.

But these things, like all good things, take time. So it's probably only exciting for the first few minutes or so before it gets old.

GAME: Malik casts Make Whole. Caster Level: 15 DC: 16

Slowly, as Malik's spell goes on, the papers begin to mend, starting to return to their whole state.

Magic is such cheating, really.

Iskandar paces on the far side of the room. He doesn't want to distract Malik, or risk disturbing the ashes. But it's clear he's interest, and it's only growing as the paper begins to come together.

The papers come together, all five pages of them. They are handcrafted notes, going back to your meeting with the one armed man in the first place. There's assessment of the believability of your claims, personal notes on each of you, and then copies of personelle notes he took by hand from the Frostmantle. Seven names are written, along with disparate locations they have been assigned to. You have names, you have locations. But you have more names than perpetrators. Perhaps there's some uncertainty over the certainty of the identifications.

Either way, your investigation just got vaulted forward considerably, but you'll be making some trips to far flung corners of the world. Thankfully, you have magic.

Malik looks at the papers, handing them off in turn. Especially the man's personal notes on each of them. The wizard looks at both of them in turn, relaying the information as he gives it to the pair to review for themselves. "Well, gentlemen," he sighs. "It sounds like travel is in our future. I suggest that we find out what we can on these individuals and plan appropriately. We could be here awhile. And beware that caster," Malik tells them. "That spells is not something to take lightly."

"What caster?" A Myrrish-accented voice speaks from the doorway of the inn room, and Seldan peeks through the door, quietly, then opens the door fully.

Iskandar examines a paper. "That's fine, I travel well." He turns it over and glances briefly at the back, then finally hands it back. "And yes, the caster would seem to be the danger." Most of his bravado from earlier about drawing out the attackers, was before he realized powerful magic was involved.

"A sorcerer," Malik says, leaning back against the wall. Casting is, after all, a taxing act. "Our friend the one-armed man was assassinated in his room, and the assassin was in turn disintegrated upon retrieving these notes. The mage knew a powerful spell, of a very high circle. Hard to resist, and with no recovery. It leaves naught but a trace of fine dust. He left a trap for those who might try and find him, but I was able to disarm it easily enough, though it was deviously clever in design. A beat from a necklace of fire on top of barrels of spirits marked with explosive runes." He opens his eyes, giving Seldan a smile. "And yes, I'm fine. He's good -- but not as good as I am." Though Malik certainly -smells- like a brewery. He might not be quite as good as he implies.

Seldan enters fully this time, nodding to Iskandar with a word of greeting. He doesn't waste time, though, moving over to see the papers, although perhaps five feet from the wizard, he stops, wrinkles his nose, and casts a swift cantrip, using it to clean the stink off of Malik. He works in silence, frowning. "Another twisted, powerful spellcaster? Would that it were purple worms," he remarks, straightening and peering at the paper.

GAME: Seldan casts Prestidigitation. Caster Level: 15 DC: 17

Iskandar sniffs at the air, then purses his lips, nodding. At the absence of booze smells? "Impressive." He tilts his head to one side and then resumes his stalking about on the far side of the room. "Where to first? Do we split up to save time? Or go together? Perhaps recruit a few more adventurers?"

"Well," Malik says. "At least we know it won't be boring." He gives the pair a smile. "I'm going to see what I can find out about these names. That'll tell us what we should expect, and where to start. As for recruiting others -- I leave that in your very capable hands, Iskandar. You seem to have a way with people." And then, to Seldan, "We should work out protections, and find maps of these locations so that we know the layouts of the cities. I think few capable of strategy like you."

Stuffing the papers in his satchel, he says, "And -- be careful. He hasn't seen you. But he's certainly felt me, and it's reasonable to assume that he could come after any one of us. Especially if he's desperate enough to kill. We do this smart, and we do it fast. And we hope the gods are on our side."