Her Biggest Fan (Part 2)
There is nothing except a battle lost that can be half so melancholy as a battle won. This is no exception. The victims of the fiends lie sprawled or bound, hung up on the ravine walls like sides of meat. Blood and freshly healed scars speak of the vile tortures inflicted on them by the monstrous creatures which had been toying with them. Equipment, both intact and damaged, lies scattered across the ravine floor before the cave mouth which evidently served as this group's hideout. The quiet is only broken by occasional moans and whimpers.
And standing calmly at the ravine's entrance is a cloaked and robed figure, dressed in dark colors. All it has done so far is wave to you, but now simply watches, and waits.
The Goblin stares at the cloaked and robed figure for a few, long moments, before she yells, "Hold on a moment..." She looks to the others. "I'm all for hobbling along into the next fight but uhmmm..." A little hand gestures to the tortured victims. "We should at least get them down, tend to their worst hurts, and leave them a fire, food and water."
"Well, they're going to have to wait," Corey murmurs under his breath as he regards the cloaked figure, quickly going to Karasu's side. "Please stay upright, my love; I'll knit your wounds. The victims here all need to be tended to as well..."
Which sits poorly with Corey. There's only so much healing he can muster up in a given day. He murmurs a prayer to dismiss Cen from his blade, then he murmurs another prayer to Gilead to mend Karasu's wounds. "I agree entirely with your assessment," he says to Murder. "We will need to be careful with the amount of healing needed. I only have so much to give until next morning's prayers."
GAME: Corey rolls 7d6: (24): 24 GAME: Corey rolls 7d6: (25): 25
Dirk sweeps his gaze around in the aftermath of the fight, making certain that there's no more kytons about to come rattle their chains in the party's direction. Once that's done, he swings his thunderbelcher over his shoulder to slide it into his back-holster. "Hang on lads, we're comin'!" he calls, trundling over to where the poor unfortunates are strung up. He squints up at the first one, giving those chains a hairy eyeball. "A'right, I'm just goin' tae..." He reaches out and does his very best to try to -gently- lift the man up and off of the hooks holding him against the side of the ravine. Given his shorter stature, though, that could probably be a bit of a struggle.
The Goblin nods to Corey, "I've got a few healing potions, I think it will be okay."
Karasu is leaning against the wall of the area, breathing slow even breaths as he was taught to do against the pain of his wounds. He feels a little light-headed, and Wuya is pulling on his ear to keep him conscious. Awake despite his injuries. He blinks thrice to keep himself aware. Even with Cor'ethil's earlier healing he feels on the verge of collapse and that is his own doing for moving away from the combat. Necessary though that had been. He's bleeding again...
Wuya whirrs and it sounds far-away.
The warmth that flashes through him is almost a heat and Karasu gasps as it sears through him, his fingers grasping Cor'ethil's hand. "Kokoro!" He can not stave off the word from his lips as he grasps the other man tightly and looks up into silver eyes in amazement. Always amazed by this man. Always. "What were we saying?"
GAME: Corey rolls Perception: (16)+21: 37 GAME: Dirk rolls Perception+2: (2)+20+2: 24 GAME: Karasu rolls Perception: (19)+18: 37 GAME: Murder rolls perception: (13)+21: 34
It takes time. Gently removing the men hanging from the ravine walls. Mending the worst of their injuries. Most are unconscious. A few whimper and cringe, even when touched gently. One is straight up catatonic, not responding to anything.
Corey and Karasu note that the gear scattered across the ravine is good quality, an interesting contrast with these men. Rough, unshaven, and hard bitten. Murder locates tattoos on a couple of them denoting membership in a brigand band that got scattered last year. Clearly, these men were up to no good -- but why unleash fiends on them?
The robed figure just waits, as patiently as stone, hands folded in front of it. It doesn't move to help, but neither does it interfere.
Murder uses her armor to fly, allowing her to hold people up and steady while others work at the implements that hold the victims in place. She frowns at a few of them, tsking. "I hope that you have sworn off banditry.", she says to a couple of the men, heedless of whether or not they are conscious or coherent.
"I've got a few minor potions of healing we can use. I've also got some rations of food to give them, a few tindertwigs for a fire, and a healers kit, though I don't know half the stuff in it."
Cor'ethil smiles brightly as Karasu calls him that word that means 'heart'. "There are injured people, love," he says, happier that Karasu looks quite a bit better already. He gives Karasu a little hug in the space of their grasp. "We have to take care of them."
The paladin lets go of his fiance and looks over at Murder and Dirk, especially as Dirk helps with getting people off the wall. He glares at the figure finally. "Okay," he says, addressing it with a raised voice. "Who are you, and why are just... standing there menacingly?"
Karasu is far less generous than Murder with the former bandits and other people. "They can make it on their own from here. We have seen to their wounds and that is sufficient. That one," he motions to the one that has been watching them for some time. "Awaits us." He doesn't sound particularly happy about it.
Dirk is already pulling the wand off his belt, giving it a couple test swings as he lumbers over to where they've got the kytons' victims gathered. "A'right lads, this'll help," he says. Karasu's comment, however, has the old snowbeard looking the Tian's direction. His shaggy white brows furrow and his beard bristles. "Och, what's yer sodding hurry? These lads need -help-," he grumbles. With that said, he starts going from one man to the next, giving a gentle swish and flick of the wand. The tip lights up with a soft green-yellow glow, easing pain and soothing injuries.
That's not to say that Dirk hasn't taken note of the figure in the cave mouth. He's just prioritizing things a little differently. When Corey asks that particularly inquiry, the burly old dwarf nods in agreement. "Aye, I'd like tae know meself. This dinnae really seem like good spot fer social gatherin'."
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d4: (1): 1
Once the work of stabilization and triage is done, the heroes approach the dark-robed figure. As they walk towards him, he doesn't even move until they get a half dozen paces from him -- whereupon he lifts a gloved hand. An odd-looking amulet is nestled in the palm of that hand, bound to it with leather straps. Formed in the shape of a disc, it shows what looks like a mouth, elaborately graven.
And then a voice issues from the disc, the mouth moving, and it's Corey's voice! But the words are not Corey's. The diction lacks the warmth of the elven paladin, as it says, "I bid you greetings. I mean you no harm. How did you come to this place?"
GAME: Karasu rolls Perception: (14)+18: 32 GAME: Murder rolls perception: (8)+21: 29 GAME: Corey rolls Perception: (6)+21: 27 GAME: Dirk rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (10)+3: 13 GAME: Dirk rolls Spellcraft: (8)+10: 18 GAME: Murder rolls spellcraft: (20)+10: 30 GAME: Corey rolls Spellcraft: (1)+19: 20 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Karasu rolls Spellcraft: (1)+23: 24 (EPIC FAIL)
Murder squints at the disk, and blinks as it appears to be the source of the creature's voice. She looks at Corey momentarily before looking back. "How are you doing that?", she wonders. The Goblin begins to circle around the thing, her head canted. "Huh... you ain't really here, are ya? Yer robes are not moving in the breeze."
Corey stills tremendously as he looks at the figure. The fact that the hand is speaking with his voice is enough to make him stop breathing. It feels like his heart has skipped a beat. "I see it too," he murmurs.
Then his silver eyes turn wrathful. "Why are you speaking with my voice?" he demands. "We came here in search of someone. Do you have anything to do with her disappearance?" He tries not to show the little shake in his hand. Even a paladin has fear sometimes.
Karasu finds himself reaching the same conclusion as Murder really. This creature - whatever it is - seems unlikely to be real. It is *stealing* Cor'ethil's voice. He frowns deeply and his dark eyes narrow significantly. It is his first, second, and third instinct to kill it. Whatever it is. "Would you like me to kill it for you, my Kokoro?" His voice is cold.
Dirk strides up to stand alongside his comrades, planting one hand on his hip. He peers at the amulet that the figure uses to speak. Blink. Boggle. Blink blink. He looks from the figure to Corey. Then back to the figure. Then back to Corey. "Och, that's damned uncanny, innit?" He looks back to the figure. "You... what-ever- the hell ye are... I reckon ye've got about five seconds afore -one- of us gets itchy an' starts throwin' hands." He nods his head towards Karasu as the Xian makes that generous offer. "Case in point."
The figure seems unmoved by the threats. The hood that covers its head casts its face into such deep shadow, nothing can be seen of its countenance. Its left hand is still upraised, and the voice that now emanates from the amulet is Dirk's characteristic burr -- but lacking his charm. "I am Castileth the Silent. I hunt kytons."
A pause, then, "I know nothing of any disappearance. But... these kytons did not come here by mistake. They were sent." Another pause. "This offends me."
The Goblin's eyes widen a little as the hand-mouth is using Dirk's voice. She frowns, and wipes her nose with a sniff. "Don't use my voice."
She strikes a pose worthy of any teenaged girl, and crosses her arms. "It offends you? Hah, best not come to Alexandros, they have regular demon problems. Sometimes we're literally ankle deep in 'em. So they were sent? Whatcha gonna do about it?"
Corey softens a little at the mention that this... _entity_ hunts kytons. He sighs gently, some of the tension easing out of his body with the adjustment. "Anyone who hunts fiends is an ally of mine," he says softly. "And I guess being 'the Silent' means you use other people's voices instead. Okay."
He looks at Karasu. "Don't kill," he asks gently, before looking at Castileth. "Are there more here? Did we happen to get here before you did, or... were you watching us?" That idea doesn't settle well with him. Outsiders testing mortals isn't unheard of, after all.
Karasu blinks. "Strange that fiends should be sent to an area where one that hunts them is in readiness to do so. If they knew you were here to hunt them they would not be here. Why then were they here, and why were you?" These seem like the logical questions to ask. Though most might think only to ask the one and not the other. With Cor'ethil's words he decides that the man can live another day even if he has committed such a grave offense as having stolen his heart's voice.
Dirk's shaggy brows arch like astounded bits of dandelion fluff. "Gwaah--?!" Whatever it was he was expecting, it certainly wasn't -his- melodious voice coming from that disk. He boggles for a moment, before his beard bristles and he gives an indignant harrumph. "Can't ye use someone -else's- voice? That's bloody unsettlin' that is!" He looks over at his comrades, then back to Castileth. He gives his beard a tug, peering at the figure with a gimlet eye. "Well... if yer tellin' the truth an' nae tuggin' our beards, then we've got a common cause. -I- hunt demons too. But..." At this, he looks back to his friends. "Demons dinnae get -sent-... until they've been -called-. So who did the callin', an' where's the shitbirds -now-?"
Castileth pauses, fractionally tilting its -- his? -- head. As if trying to parse the questions. Then it seems to shrug, and begins to speak again -- in Karasu's voice this time. "There are ways to tell when these fiends enter our world. When they do, I hunt them. I kill them. I knew they would linger over their prey, but you arrived and struck before I did." A contemplative pause. "I should refine my tactics for greater speed."
"I do not hunt demons. Nor devils. Nor div, or demodands. I hunt kytons." He seems very insistent on that. "And I seek to... discourage their summoning. I do not know who called them." Another thoughtful pause. "But they might." The figure points to the former brigands now lying in the grass. "...I presume you do not wish me to ask them."
GAME: Corey rolls Sense Motive: (6)+19: 25 GAME: Corey rolls Sense Motive: (8)+19: 27 GAME: Murder rolls sense motive: (13)+1: 14 GAME: Karasu rolls Sense Motive: (12)+18: 30 GAME: Dirk rolls Sense Motive: (11)+4: 15
The Goblin frowns. There is only once voice left of the group that Castileth hasn't used. "Don't use my voice.", she growls. She nods as the creature reiterates his singular passion as Kyton Slayer.
Murder glances at the brigands and back to 'the Silent'. "Why would they know? They're brigands..." Her head cants slightly in the other direction, and she turns, stalking towards the brigands, and bending at the waist to peer at one of them, her face close enough for the brigand to know she had something spicy for breakfast.
"So uh... do you know anything about those things that were tormenting you? Or who might have summoned them, or sent them here after you? Now, answer me before I get angry." Her eyes flash red momentarily. "You won't like me when I'm angry."
GAME: Murder rolls intimidate: (7)+26: 33
Corey concentrates, and he shakes his head. "Castileth, you have not answered us as to what you are," the paladin says, his voice edging on anger. "Yet from you I can sense darkness and evil, even from the image you present to us."
The paladin takes out his rapier. "Why do you hunt kytons? Is it because they are your underlings? Or are you merely some measure of darkness that is greater on the food chain, hunting them down to consume them?" Cor'ethil's eyes are incensed. "Answer me!"
Karasu is uncertain what to make of their guest who seems not to be wholly here. He seems though, to be very serious about his work, and that is something that Karasu can respect if nothing else. Yet... When Cor'ethil's words turn to anger and action Karasu's own weapon is unsheathed in an instant as well. His body turned toward the man who he had perceived as their ally. If he is an enemy of Cor'ethil, he is an enemy of Karasu's. "He is evil?"
It is as good a guess as any.
Well, that's all Dirk needs to hear. The word of his fellow follower (of at least one half) of the Green Word spurs the ranger to action. He reaches over his shoulder and draws his thunderbelcher, lifting it to his shoulder in one smooth motion. "I was bein' -generous-," he growls. "I'm givin' ye -three- seconds. Start talkin' an' make some bloody -sense-." He racks the slide with a meaningful CHK-CHAK. The burly old snowbeard is -not- playing around.
"Or what?" Castileth's voice is now that of Corey's again. "I am not here to explain. I am not here at all. But do not associate me with the kytons. They are the reason I am silent! They are the reason I am alone!" The robed form's voice rises, disturbingly since it's Corey's tones. "It is all I have now!" Suddenly the right hand comes up, yanking back the hood -- oh gods.
There is no flesh left on that skull, but in a macabre way it is gorgeous, plated in gold. The metal highlights three lines drawn across the crown, suggesting that its owner was scalped, and the skull itself is missing its lower jaw. The teeth have been replaced with shimmering, beautiful blue sapphires, and an angry, flickering green light shines in the empty eyesockets. The voice is now a scream, all the more disturbing for it being Corey's voice. "THEY TOOK MY FAMILY! I WILL NEVER STOP! NOTHING WILL STOP ME!" A howl of inchoate grief spews from the amulet in its hand, and then the robed lich vanishes with a soft 'pop'.
Meanwhile, one of the brigands slowly comes to... to find a goblin glaring at him from two inches away. "AAAAAH! FUCK! Don't hurt me, oh gods! I'll do whatever you want, just -don't let them get me!-" Weakly, the thug tries to scrabble away from Murder, though he's in no condition to really escape.
Corey looks rattled as can be by the visage he has seen, especially as the screaming is in _his_ voice. It's one thing to hear your own voice. It's another to hear it scream like it's lost everything.
"Now I feel pretty bad," Cor'ethil murmurs to himself, before looking at Karasu. "Are you okay, my nightingale--"
And then there's the brigand screaming. "Murder?" Corey calls over. "Can you like... put your hand on his shoulder and tell him it's going to be okay?" Corey walks over, and he kneels down to the ground before the brigand. He smiles brightly in that usual paladinly fashion of his. "Hi! Everything's going to be okay. We killed the kytons. Where's the nice writer lady?"
Karasu is perhaps the least disturbed of everyone. Screaming lich's is not the worst thing he has ever thing. After all, it's just a skull - if one dipped in gold plating and glittering sapphires with flaming green eyes to boot. The part that he notates for later is that the thing - evil as it is - has once again stolen Cor'ethil's voice without his permission. He imagines that Corey would forgive the lich, but he is not so forgiving a man as his beloved.
"Perhaps we will not meet again." He murmurs, nodding to where the man had been, and then turning from the spot to where the bandits await. They've an author to find.
Murder has lost track of the brigand temporarily as the Casti'ethil starts to raise his voice. She shudders at the thing's visage, but pulls out her blade. "Oh here we go killing again..." She looks visibly relieved as the creature vanishes.
She blinks at Corey, and responds by planting a little booted foot on the man's shoulder. "Stop screaming and answer the question. I mean... everything will be okay." The last part delivered in monotone and sarcasm.
Dirk's eyes get wide as the lich reveals itself. "Beards o' me sweet tapdancin' fathers!" he cries. He lifts his thunderbelcher up to sight down the barrel--but then Castiethil is gone. For a moment, the old dwarf is stock-still, his face as white as his beard. "Piss up my -arse-," he finally manages to squeak when he finds his voice. "Is... is 'e -gone-?" He looks around, blinking owlishly as he slowly lowers his weapon. Old Dirk is as doughty as they come, but he's studied the living dead enough to know just how dangerous liches can be. And while he -might- be able to stand up to one in a fight, it's not a theory he's keen on testing.
The cries of the brigands snaps the burly ranger back to the here and now. He looks over at the men, then to Murder with a dour frown. "Och, c'mon now, lassie, stop frightenin' the poor lads. They've been through enough," he says. He lumbers over squatting down to regard the man. "Shh, easy now, lad, rest easy. Just tell the nice gobbo lass what we want tae know, an' nothin' bad will happen to ye. Promise."
GAME: Dirk rolls Diplomacy: (6)+1: 7 GAME: Corey rolls Diplomacy: (11)+21: 32
It takes a few minutes, but once the man realizes he's -not- about to be fileted by kytons again, he catches his breath. He may be in trouble but at least it's -mundane- trouble.
"The writer? Oh... oh gods, her. She was a hellcat when we carted her off. She actually knifed Garni in the leg, and him and his buddy slapped her around a bit." He winces. "I tol' them not to, the guy said she wasn't to be harmed. We met with him two days ago -- weedy little bastard, but he had the money. Told us he'd have to tell his boss. We didn't think anything of it..." He trails off in horror, looking around again.
The one-time assassin stares at the man "Continue." Karasu doesn't like where the story is going, but he isn't going to make assumptions about where it might be headed either. That path only leads to ruin. "Tell us the rest of what happened. And who hired you."
Murder side-eyes Dirk. "The last time I heard you say that, I was a demon. And I do believe I've mentioned I am not a... lassie." The red light in her eyes return, and she frowns, looking back at the bandit.
"Which one of you is GaRNi?", she growls. "And where did the weedy bastard go?"
GAME: Karasu rolls Intimidate: (20)+18: 38
The plan's coming together. Corey watches Karasu be bad watchman to his good watchman. Err... Bad guardsman to his good guardsman? Black knight to his white knight? Corey will figure out what the appropriate saying is in Tradespeak one of these days. "I think you'd better listen to my nightingale," Corey says with a smile. "You've got a lot of explaining to do. And while we aren't kytons... You still abducted a lady."
Corey's smile widens a little more. "Which means you'll be handed straight to the Daeusites for them to sort out." He's a Gilean. They don't deal in lawkeeping. Just in the order of nature. Convenient for him, of course.
Dirk rolls his eyes at Murder. "Och, do us a favor would ye? Get -over- yeself. I'm a dwarf. This is how we talk. Nae a damned thing I can do about it." He looks over at Corey with a grim nod. "Aye, he's got the right of it. But not tae fret. Bein' handed over tae the Daeusites dinnae count as a -bad- thing. They'll help ye see the error of yer ways. They'll put yer feet on the right path. One that -dinnae- involve abduction of an innocent lass." He looks like he'd like to add more, but then Karasu is chiming in and being his most charming self. So charming, in fact, that Dirk's eyes get wide and he takes a step back. "Heek." He clams up and says no more. Karasu's said plenty for -all- of them.
A couple of the conscious brigands point at the catatonic guy when Murder asks about Garni. Well, looks like he's not answering questions for a while.
Fortunately, his buddy is happy to talk. "Look... this guy, he's gotta be some kind of wizard's apprentice. We figured he was learning it on the sly, not at the university. But he came to us a couple weeks ago. Had a name, schedule, just needed us to grab her and bring her back here."
The brigand looks around again, checking for kytons probably. "He said his master was her biggest fan. Got all pissy about her having a black eye and a bunch of bruises." Suddenly, one of the other brigands chimes in. "Yeah, he was talking about heading towards Skald first and going slow so he could patch her up. But he didn't say where they were going, 'cept... there ain't much up that way. He wasn't alone -- he had a carriage, and some stone-faced bastards as an escort. That bunch wouldn't say a damn thing."
-TBC