Where'd They Go? Part 2
...this time, the teleport goes as smoothly as expected. Perhaps it was just a weird moment? Multiple teleports to Charn later, you are now in the vicinity of the retreat, deep in the desolate Charnish countryside... fields full of undead farm laborers are all about you.
And here you are, ready to find a place where Taara's own go for respite.
After the final teleport, Seldan looks weary, but hasn't said so much as a word, and as the undead farm laborers come into view, his silence takes on the impassive, stony cast of an alabaster pillar, expressionless and - mostly - unmoving. If one gauntleted fist curls at his side, well -
He walks along with the others, now, pale eyes set on the road ahead.
The amount of teleporting Aryia has done as of late has been far greater than she's ever done in her entire life. And each time, it was still mildly discombobulating as she gets her bearings. She almost rests a hand on the nearest person, but her fingers just barely miss where flesh should be.
She turns, blinks, then grimaces heavily. "... I don't miss working alongside this shit," she complains with a motion, wiping her hand off on her pants afterwards. She follows after Seldan, seemingly having a similar mindset- get out of this atrocity. <Handspeech/Tongue>
Home sweet home.
Save that the nation was ever sweet even to its residents, and what little was considered safe some were long since ripped from. Aya pays little mind to the farmhands, as they are. So long as they are not aggressive, they are not a threat. Nor is there much she can readily do to change their fate. As well, they have other priorities at the moment. "Even death is not an escape," she exhales in annoyance.
Schara isn't particularly used to teleporting, but at least with it being used several times in short succession she is at least aware of what to expect.
What they were not expecting however was a bunch of undead nearby. The artificer audibly sighs. "I knew from various journals that necromancy is not outlawed in the Charn Dominion, but I did not realize it's use was so widespread. Perhaps they prefer to keep it less obvious?" They wonder aloud with a hint of trepidation to their voice. And everyone else was on their way, so Schara quickly followed suit.
At least you didn't wind up somewhere random again.
The undead in the fields continue their simple tasks. Seeems they have been engineered well, and work alongside, live labor.
Thankfully, no one saw your arrival. Seems you need to be heading towards the mountains.
Still Seldan keeps his peace as he trudges along, although as the elevation begins to change and they put some distance between the undead and themselves, he appears to marginally relax. "Would that such a lovely place sat not in the hands of such vile people," he observes, once none are there save the party to hear him.
Aryia plods along, shaking her head with Aya as she gives a knowing sigh. "It's practically everywhere. Cheaper than actual manual labor most of the time," she gestures to Schara. "No such thing as less obvious here, most menial labor is done by undead, even in cities."
She sighs slightly in relief as they make their way towards the mountains. "I agree, Seldan," she motions. "Maybe one day we'll see it in a better light." <Handspeech/Tongues>
Now, in the distance, you begin to see the sorts of buildings that are best known for being the havens of the rich and powerful. Summer houses, country houses. They look fenced off. Most of them have lights burning within, indicating occupation at least by the guards of said rich and powerful people.
All but one. That one seems to be your destination. Ominous indeed.
The key around Seldan's neck vibrates against the armor, an audible signal. "That house," he gestures with a hand to the lone house that has no lights present. "It would seem that our guide points us once again. Let us see waht may be found." He turns from the main path, and towards the unoccupied house, still wearing that quiet demeanor. If it has relaxed somewhat now that the undead are behind them, that is to be understood. Or not.
Aryia chews on her lip as they get to the havens, the summer houses reminding her of a previous life. But that was decades and decades ago. Her thoughts are pulled from the sound on Seldan's armor, grey ears perking upwards as the darkened house is indicated. She nods in agreement, following after him to see what debauchery this vacated establishment held.
GAME: Schara rolls profession/farmer: (2)+6: 8
Schara watches some of the workers as they pass by, and the artificer decides the floor is a more relevant view for the time being. "I don't understand, they have all this farmland, they have free labor, which while I do not approve of, I can understand if necessity arises, as it would allow allocating resources elsewhere while still maintaining produce growth, but even if that is the case, it doesn't make sense. How are there famines here?" The artificer wonders aloud. "Or maybe they're, did anyone even try to figure out what is going on with the soil? You can't just solve the issue by planting more crops, you're going to leech everything out of the soil and not give anything time to replenish."
Schara shakes her head and continues on. "Do you think everyone vanished again?"
Approaching your target is easy enough. No one moves to stop you. The iron gate around it is easy enough to slip through, what, with the gate being unlocked.
Approaching the door is easy enough, too. It is *not* unlocked, and your current key doesn't do anything to this particular door just yet.
On finding that the door does not give way for him, Seldan immediately steps back, and frowns. "No spells have I for this," he murmurs. "The key does not answer. Perhaps it is that we must seek another piece, ere we return here?"
Aryia raises a brow at Schara's rambling. "I don't know, maybe they're just dogshit at the logistics and it all gets rotted and tainted by all the necromancy?" she throws out there, knowing very little about magical theory. There's a shrug. "Only one way to find out."
Finding the gate and no one stopping them odd, the mute pugilist seems a bit more guarded as she traverses across the estate grounds. There's a huff, and she looks about the space. "The key wouldn't be doing something if we were meant to have another piece. Perhaps this works with a side door, or servant's door? Maybe a door inside? Shit, if we really have to, I can try and 'find' a way in."
She gives a light, if mildly cheeky, smile. "Though I may ask you to look away so you don't give me that disapproving look like last time," she teases, referencing the time she pulled out a set of lock picks. <Handspeech/Tongues>
"If those with the power and wealth claim all the food, "Aya notes flatly, "that leaves none for anyone else, no matter how much is to be had..." She looks from Seldan and his vibrating key, to the door, and back. "This may not be the only door, and not the one tied to that key?" She looks to the door again. "It isn't the only means inside, either."
Now she looks to Aryia with a half-smile growing. Similar minds think alike? She gestures to the door. "After you, sister?"
"Well, I do not know. I wish I understood, and it's bothering me that I do not know." The artificer sighs. "I do not know if it is being hoarded, if it is, then that's their own fault, but I feel there is more to it. Perhaps Aryia is right. I just wish one of the places most welcoming of artifice was not Charn, it does not help other places look on it more positively, when they can not solve their own problems even with it."
Schara stops at the door, and looks at it as the door didn't seem to be reacting. "Aryia is right, the key is functioning. And, well, this is just a theory, but I believe miss Akorinil is fond of innuendos, if I am correct?" Schara wonders aloud. "Maybe you should try the back door, Seldan?"
Seldan is taken quite aback by the suggestion, and his fair skin goes pink, his eyes dropping to the pavement at his feet. It's quite clear that he understands exactly what is meant by that. "No interest do I have in _her_ backdoor," he murmurs. "And yet are you quite correct. Let us seek another entrance."
With that, he begins to turn away, to see if another entrance will serve the need.
Aryia is rifling around in her jacket pocket as her sister suggests she get to work, but she freezes. Stares at Schara at the utter stroke of brilliance. And her cheeks puff out as the mute does her best to silence a baffled guffaw. "Pfffft...! ha... ha... ha...!" she wheezes before breaking into a quiet coughing fit.
This idea was /way/ better! She follows after to look with Seldan.
Circling around the building is easy enough.
There's no one here to stop you, clearly.
... a side door is already loosely open. Not enough of a breeze for it to be rattling, at least.
Aya steps back to let Aryia get to work. She is quiet until Schara's comment, to which she stares a moment before letting out a laugh. Of all places to release it, a Charneth estate surrounded by plants vs zombies was the last she expected. Perhaps that makes it all the more cathartic. She begins to follow Seldan. "If it starts buzzing more vigorously, we will know that is where she intended to use it?"
Schara stops, and their helmet tilts to one side, before she shakes it quickly. "No, no sir Seldan, I was just stating that it seems like it would be in line with her way of thinking with this planning, and the obvious comparison to a physical back door on the building."
The artificer follows to the other side of the building, where she stops to consider the open door. "It could be a coincidence, or it could be related to the key, which would be a good thing." She considers. "Still, I do not know what to expect inside. let's be well, let's be careful as much as we can? I don't know if they have undead servants in buildings, and if they did, I don't know if they would vanish with everyone else or not."
"There is but one way to determine the truth of the matter." On finding the half-open door, Seldan, too, is wary, but sets aside all matters of innuendo and draws Reunion, reaching to open the door by the end of the blade. If something jumps out, he will be already armed, and with any luck, evade any traps that may have been placed.
Aryia rubs at her face, snickering quietly as her sister throws more fuel to the fire. Oh, hey, a side door! Wiping the tears from her eyes, she gets herself mentally focused at seeing Reunion get drawn. They were in Charn, after all. And while the safehouses have been clear thus far, who's to say this was any different? Schara seemed to have the right wariness. Could be undead inside.
The mute rolls her shoulders, cracks her neck, and bounces on the balls of her feet. A faint pulse of silver eddies over her skin.
Nothing jumps out, this go around.
...you're able to proceed inside. The area is, of course, might be considered a servant's area in a standard manor house. here, however, even the servant's quarters, if that is what they are, are sumptuos. There are hallways and hallways, and then a foul odour of rotting food as you pass near a kitchen as you cautiously explore. Seems like the retreat has been empty a while, if that's anything to go by.
The buzzing of the key intensifies as you move further within. The bedrooms, too, look in different states of use. No surprise, there.
Schara stops to adjust their helmet just as the smell begins to start, and the artificer continues on into the building with the others, and their left arm at the ready. "Well, if they had fresh food from the fields, it seems this is where at least some of it ended up." Schara notes. "A lot of people were here, but, now they aren't. Was this the same event that made the other areas vanish, or was the timing separate? I do not know how we could test for that, but it might be worth attempting to figure out."
GAME: Schara rolls perception: (12)+11: 23 GAME: Seldan rolls perception: (5)+25: 30 GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (16)+32: 48
Aya's nose wrinkles at the rotting food. Then again, she also realizes, "There could be worse smells given the situation..." A lack of finding anyone may be a small blessing. She glances to Schara before looking about. "An excellent question. I do not know how best we could answer that, either. I do not suppose there is a spell?" Her searching pauses to cast a brief glance and raised brow to Seldan.
Judging by the staet of the rot, it's clear that this place has been abandoned longer. As you reach the center of the house, all luxury all the way through, the buzzing intensifies more than it did at the last place.
Slowly, in the center of the grand hall, portraits aligning the wall of some noble charnish gentry's lineage, there's a soft shimmering at the center that the key seems drawn to.
Seldan does not lower his blade, moving cautiously through the house. The smell of rot slaps him across the face, but - it is food rot, and not the stench of bodies. He does not look at the others, and once inside had conjured himself a bit of light to see by, but when Schara speaks, he pauses a moment, and looks around him, then shakes his head. "This was abandoned for a longer time than the temple. "I know not the meaning."
The key, though, is directing him inexorably, and he steps slowly towards the shimmering space.
GAME: Seldan rolls spellcraft: (16)+18: 34
A moment's pause, and he stops short. "A _gate_," he tells the others. "It responds to the key. I have in my possession a means by which we may return, does that become needful." He stops, and turns to study the others. "To step through an unknown _gate_ is not a thing done lightly, but I have the means to return, should that be needed."
Aryia stalks along with the others down the halls of halls. Her nose crinkles at the stench as well. At least its rotting food and not... the last time she was in Charn. An ear flicks from the buzzing getting louder as they go. She trots backwards with hands partially raised, letting Seldan take the lead as she keeps an eye on their flank. "Decadence sure has a price..." she motions slowly. "The food seems a bit more... rotten than the last place earlier today..." she points out from Schara's suggestion, and nodding in agreement with Seldan's assessment.
Once they get to the shimmering spot, her gaze lingers on it in curiosity before her attention slips to the portraits, then to the room at large. Best keep their guard up. Seldan's appraisal of the shimmering is met some concern, but the mute gives a resolute thumbs up. "I am prepared." <Handspeech/Tongues>
GAME: Aryia rolls knowledge/nobility: (8)+3: 11
Aya purses her lips. She really does not care for the situation. On the other hand, they were transported here with little knowledge of what might await them. Her debate is brief before she nods to Seldan. "I know that you would not leave us stranded. I am ready."
"Yes, that makes sense, Aryia." Schara agrees while peering at some of the food that they pass by. Even with the helmet, they have one hand clasped over their mouth in the process. "The food at the other building, while rotting as well, had no presence of maggots within it. Which leads me to believe, while not conclusive, that this happened at a different time. Which raises more questions if this was not a singular event. What was it that caused these areas to vanish, if it was not simultaneously?" The artificer muses aloud, before turning to Seldan and nodding. "A gate could lead anywhere, to other planes even. From what I have read, various planes can be hostile simply from being upon them, should we make preparations first, or go now? There is no guarantee the gate will remain here perhaps, but it has lasted this long already and we may not get another chance."
The gate seems to solidify iin place, as if called into being by the key. A triangular doorway, shimmering. Visible through it is an even more sumptous place, decorated in silken pillows, and velvet rugs from Stormgard, all a-fur. A blazing fireplace illuminates it...
... and it is drenched in blood and decorated with viscera, the bodies of fallen worshippers of Taara hanging from the walls as surely as the paintings do here.
The gate solidifies into being - and even the normally stoic Seldan sucks in a breath unbidden at the carnage on the other side. The stench is likely horrific enough that a mere dream of it fills his nostrils and twists his features. "I -" He trails off. "Never did I envision myself with pity for one of the Tempter, and yet - is it this against which the Lady wars?" The question is rhetorical, asked of none in particular. "Come, we must learn what did this."
Aryia looks to Schara, giving the artificer a shrug. "Sometimes you take what chances you can. Like you said, no guarantee. Best we do this now." The mute turns to the gate as it forms and solidifies, fists raised as she's preparing herself just in case...-
She blinks. Oh. This place doesn't look so bad- "-h wh-t t- f-ck..?!" she hisses out, eyes wide at the gruesome display. There's a pang of empathy there, her looking to Seldan and nodding with him in agreement. "Keep your wits. This is fucked, but there is much to learn," she signs to the group. <Handspeech/Tongues>
Aya initially shares Aryia's thoughts that this is not so bad. Hers also derails a moment later when the illuminated carnage is realized. She blinks, falling into a firmly ready stance a heartbeat later. "This is..." she fishes around for a comment, pithy or otherwise, and... comes up empty. "... as you say, sister." A pause. "Well, then. We did not come all this way to allow a few misplaced organds to deter us, yes?"
"Yes, you're right, we need to understand what is going on here, you are correct." The artificer agrees, waiting on one side with the group as it opens up properly.
Whatever preparations were made were clearly not enough. The artificer turns back and away, removing the front of their helmet to empty the contents of their stomach into an expensive looking urn. "Just, who or what would do this?" Schara asks weakly after finally coming up for air. "I, I don't like clerics particularly, but even I do not believe they deserve to be disemboweled and, hung up on the walls. We need to go and investigate, just, I am sorry if something did this to them then I should not be wasting time before we are potentially discovered. I will be alright, I guess."
... their bodies look far fresher than what you've observed outside, oddly enough.
But all the same, you're able to step beyond the threshhold into the less than inviting abbatoir that lays before you
The odor of blood and viscera overlays the perfumed excess of the interior, and hallways split off into various directions, blood streaks travelling down them.
If the bodies weren't enough, a pervasive sense of danger and dread fills each of you, raising the hair on the back of one's neck as it were.
Piercing screams erupt from elsewhere, but they seem ... oddly drawn out, as if time is out of synch here.
-To Be Continued...-