Beyond the City of Thieves IC

[WalkingTheShade]

"So, anything useful?".

"Good morning, whoever you are on this day," answers Rosa. "So yes, the chain is surprisingly devoid of any curse and should perform as stated. The horse figurine... mmm..." Rosa pauses and scratches her neck. "Well, I'd heard of such ivory figurines being enchanted to transform into what they represent to aid their bearer. Yet this one is an interesting take on the concept. The color seems to indicate an intent to mock or subvert its expected use: It morphs into a fiend that may or may not be helpful to the figurine's bearer, a being autonomous from said bearer's will. Under proper circumstances... Yet a malediction hovers above it. I don't know if its content is only the summoned being's facetiousness, or if something more sinister is afoot. The box itself, when locked, is warded with a storm spell. I guess we could re-purpose it as a booby-trap? The rest is junk."

"Uhm, I wonder how long that is going to take. Well, at least we have what we really need now."

Rosa shrugs. Before lighting her pipe.

"Wait, did you send the big guy out alone?

As the pipe haze dissipates, Rosa hears the end of the question. "I sent him to gather the silver weapons, he was getting on my nerves. It's a simple task, what could go wrong?"

As she's finishing her sentence, Rosa's frown deepens. Before César can answer, her eyes widen and she exclaims: "By the Infinite Depths of the Abyss, we have to catch up with him before... before... before he does whatever it is he keeps doing!" She's already wrapped in her cloak and going for the tent's exit.

[iTookUrNick]

"Curious." says César, caressing his hairless chin. "This... figurine: can it be... repaired somehow? Or can the creature that is inside it be bargained with? If neither one nor the other, it can still be useful as a distraction, I guess."

"Oh, and I'll keep whatever you don't want, including the box. Waste not, want not. Right?"

As Rosa realises her mistake, César sigs, already feeling tired despite having been awake for just 5 minutes. "Let's go fetch him back, before anything bad happens. Fortunately, he doesn't blend in easily."

[Woggle]

Borgrim makes his way up to the Singing Bridge above, his spirits high in the bright light of early morning. He strides north across the bridge heading to the silversmith's shop on Candle street. Beginning to get a firm feeling for the rhythm of city life, Borgrim does an admirable job blending into the morning crowds. He passes folk bustling with preparations for the festival two days hence, nabbing a large apple from a young vendor on the way.

Rupert Glinstone greets Borgrim as the young man strides into 17 Candle Street with a broad smile: "Ah, young master Borgrim, correct? Your sword and earrings are ready! You wouldn't happen to be picking up the items for your friend, would you? The dagger and bolts she asked for are ready as well. I'll just get the receipt written up..."

The halfling silversmith hands over the goods and a small piece of parchment. He smiles again. "Thank you very much for your business! And the earrings turned out quite well, if I do say so myself, ha! Good day!"

Borgrim shoulders Hastings and holds the earrings up in the morning light. Two exquisitely cut teardrops of deep red suspended from understated silver fittings catch the sun and almost glow with warmth. Pocketing the earrings with care, Borgrim sets off back toward Singing Bridge. On the way there, however, something at the back of the half-orcs brain sets off warning signals. He glances to his left and spots a mixed group of humans and hobgoblins loitering on the street corner. A narrowing of the eyes reveals their true intentions: a half-hidden cudgel under a cloak hem, the glint of brass on a clenched fist. Borgrim knows danger when he sees it, and ducks behind a slow moving cart laden with bolts of coloured fabric. Weighing the opportunity for a fight with wooing Niamh, Borgrim changes his course to head toward The Mermaid to deliver the earrings and avoid the miscreants.

A surreptitious glance over his shoulder reveals to Borgrim that he's not been followed. With a spring in his step he pushes open the door to The Mermaid. His eyes adjust quickly to the dimmer light of the bar. The place is mostly empty, with only a few patrons eating breakfast or having a morning tea. Esme, the proprietor, raises an eyebrow at the half-orc as she walks behind the bar from a backroom. Niamh enters a few moments later, yawning as she walks down the flight of stairs from the second floor. She doesn't notice Borgrim right away. When she does, her eyes widen for an instant and she quickly pats down a few creases in her dress and hurriedly tucks her hair behind an ear. Composing herself, she greets Borgrim with a bright smile. She shoots a questioning glance toward Esme, who just sighs and shrugs. Niamh offers Borgrim his choice of drink, and joins him at a small table.

Over the course of chit-chat filled with little glances and giggles, which goes (surprisingly, or unsurprisingly?) quite well, Niamh suggests getting together two days from now during the Festival of Sowing. After a little more small talk, she apologizes and gets up to start her work. Esme puts her hands on her hips and 'hrumphs!', but a second later Borgrim catches a sly smile tugging at the barkeep's mouth.

---

Meanwhile, Rosa and César set off in a bit of a panic, imagining all the possible awful outcomes of a lone Borgrim tramping through the city. On the bridge above Mao sniffs about and catches Borgrim's trail. The cat sets off with Rosa and César in tow, but is unconcerned with speed, preferring instead to amble along at a leisurely pace, tail held high.

Upon reaching the intersection between Garden Street, Candle Street, and Harbour Street, Mao stops to do a little grooming and then sniffs at the air once more. While Rosa's familiar seeks out Borgrim's trail, Rosa and César spy a suspicious group of four humans and hobgoblins heading west along Harbour Street, in the direction of The Mermaid. Rosa and César share a knowing glance, and keep pace well behind the potential vagabonds as they approach the entrance to the tavern.

Spoiler: OOC

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I forgot to mention that everyone benefits from a Long Rest.

To clarify, the figurine of the Nightmare is 'cursed' in that the beast will not follow commands. I should have used different wording to avoid the confusion.

I wasn't sure if Borgrim wanted to offer Niamh the earrings now or later, so I'll leave that up to him. I'll add a reaction if you decide that he did give them.

[WalkingTheShade]

"Damn," Rosa whispers to César, "they must have spotted the oaf at the silversmith, and rightly think he's loaded with jewelry."

"I can try to put some fear in them, I don't believe we have time to waste on them. What do you think? You stay back, I go explain things to them, and if they don't understand you pretend to be coming with a bunch of watchmen in tow? Would that work? Let's wait to be near the Mermaid, so Borbor can hopefully back us up if things go South?"

A fiendish grin splits Rosa's face. "Gimme back that trapped box, just got an idea of how to put it into practical use..."

Spoiler: OOC

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I got the figurine's thing. I was just adding some RP flavouring.

So the smith was a halfling? I had a distinct recollection of him being a gnome. Probably cause from behind the counter one can't tell the hairy feet...

[Kaptin Keen]

Borgrim noticed the bad guys, weighed his options, and decided it would be slightly tricky to beat them all up unarmed - and too much trouble to kill them all. So he ducked out, worked his way around, and went on his merry way, forgetting all about them in the blink of an eye.

They wouldn't have been looking for him, specifically, anyways. Right? Pfft - don't be paranoid.

Arriving at the Mermaid, he has a wonderful time with Naimh. He's even surprised when she invites him out, before he has a chance to give her the earrings.

There is something disarming and endearing about a giant green warrior, who strides unafraid into combat, to become bashful and almost lose his nerve when talking to a girl. He almost doesn't get his courage up, before walking out the door.

Naimh, I ... he stutters, see, you ...

You are a creature of surpassing beauty, Naimh. I want to give you something - I'd be really pleased if you like this, because .. well, you know .. I had it made specially for you. He fumbles out the little pouch with the earrings, I had to make ... quite an effort to find just the stones to complement your skin and eyes. These are blessed by the gods, Naimh. I'd be maybe a little careful about wearing them around anyone I don't know and trust.

And um .... maybe not wear them to church at all, if you go?

And he smiles his big, dumb, hopeful smile - like a goon.

[iTookUrNick]

Cesar lets Rosa run the show, agreeing with her plan. "Sure thing". he says. His Raven flies above, always Watching.

[WalkingTheShade]

Rosa takes the box from César, makes sure its locked and leaves its key with the baron.

Once the suspicious group reaches The Mermaid, but before they take can chose whether to hide in the street or enter the tavern, Rosa walks towards them, in plain sight, her hood drawn back to reveal her face and her horns. She keeps her hands hidden beneath her cloak, holding only a loaded crossbow for now. She stops a couple yards away and raises her voice so there's no doubt whom she's addressing herself to.

"Hello guys, I think there's been a slight misunderstanding. The orc you're tailing is known as the Grim Slayer. That absurdly large sword he carries also has a name: Hastings, for the last poor sod he eviscerated and whose blood he used to wash that blade. Nice fellow when you know him, Grim, and he's also led you in our trap. You might not now who I am, either: they call me the Bloody Rose. I'm in a good mood today, so I'm ready to let you walk, this being a big misunderstanding and all." Rosa voices is loud but nonthreatening. She finishes her delivery with a charming smile. "You don't want to see me in a dark mood," she adds, her smile turning feral, the shadows around her more intense and her eyes taking a blood-red shine.

Spoiler: OoC

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So I guess it's something in between bluff and intimidation: Charisma - (1d20+2)[13], Extra - (1d20+2)[6], aided by Thaumaturgy.

If that's not enough and they start negotiating, plan is to abate them by offering the boom box... If they attack, I guess that leaves the crossbow.

[Woggle]

Niamh's eyes widen in amazement when they alight on the ruby earrings. "Oh! by At'ar, they're gorgeous!" She gasps breathlessly. Hesitantly she holds out her hands. She turns the stones to and for across her palms. "I -- are you sure, Borgrim? I -- it just seems a little too much... oh but they are lovely... alright, I'll keep them safe! See you on festival day! Don't you dare even dream of not showing!"

Niamh wraps the earrings carefully and secures them in a small pouch. She then springs up from her seat, bubbling with excitement, grinning from ear to ear. She leans over to give Borgrim a quick peck on the cheek, then spins about to get on with her work. She gives Borgrim one last fluttering wave as she heads into the backroom.

---

Outside, the four humans and hobgoblins begin to take up nonchalant positions near the entry to The Mermaid. As Rosa walks up bold as the day is bright, one of the four -- a hobgoblin woman -- taps her compatriot on the shoulder and gestures. The woman brushes back the corner of her cloak to reveal the hilt of a shortsword. Rosa notices the other three shift about, gripping their half-hidden weapons nervously.

As Rosa speaks, the four share a few quick uncertain glances. The hobgoblin woman's brow furrows at the mention of the Bloody Rose.

"Hey, ain't that the--" one of the two human men begins, only to be cut off by a "Shush. Shut it," from the hob woman. She eyes Rosa up and down. Glancing past, she catches a glimpse of César, hanging back. A thoughtful expression passes quickly across her face, and then she nods very slightly, once. She gives Rosa one last look in the eye, then turns about tramps away down the street, away from The Mermaid. Her companions look about in confusion for a moment, then follow after her. {Intimidation: Success}

"But we was after the big-un--" The slow thug blurts out.

"Didn't I tell you to shut it? Huh?" The hobgoblin woman hisses.

Rosa doesn't catch anything else as the four miscreants leave earshot.

Spoiler: OOC

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It's possible I mistakenly described the silversmith as a gnome at one point, but I went back and checked, and he was originally a halfling.

The thugs rolled very poorly on their morale/resist intimidation checks .

[Kaptin Keen]

Borgrim emerges from the Mermaid, spots Rosa and Cézar, and exclaims:

Guys! I just decided to come find you - and here you are. Seriously, I should find people for money, I'm that good at it.

He smiles his signature smile, brimming with pride.

[WalkingTheShade]

Rosa doesn't relax until the thugs have turned a corner. They sure looked like idiots, but their leader seemed tougher than most. Her stare had Rosa feel naked and her heart pumping.

That's when an oblivious Borgrim comes out of the shop. "You know what, we may put some serious thought into it for when this job is over. Become bounty hunters? Or detectives or something?" she returns a somewhat forced smile to Borgrim. She then turns to César, with her back to Borgrim, rolling her eyes and wincing as if to say I can't believe this guy.

"So what know? Do we go after the cult? We're hired just for Bones, and without Nicodemus to lend his Long Eye spell, we can't so easily figure where their leader's at. We may as well try to learn as much as is possible about entities floating through the ethereal and how best protect from them. Maybe how to trail them?"

[iTookUrNick]

"I hear the best way to find someone is having them come to you. In that sense, our Grim friend is entirely correct." says César, with just a hint of a smile.

He thinks about what their next step should be. "The cult and Bones might be intertwined, with our wizard friend at the fulcrum. But even if they are not, it seems to me like a worthwhile case to pursue. If you'd like, we can think of someone who could benefit from them being taken care of and try to get a reward, but I can't think of anyone right now. We have already been promised additional payment for helping the wizard, after all."

He weighs Rosa's proposal: "That would be great, yet I would not know where to look either. Don't we have things we already got going? Did that priest get back to us already, for example?"

[Kaptin Keen]

Personally, I don't believe in coincidence. There is a reason Zanbar Bone, the crow cult, and even - most likely - the night hag have all come to this city at the same time. Maybe it's somehow connected to this big festival? That's what I'd like to look into.

Sadly, I'm not really good at research, unless it's done at swordpoint. So who can I kill or threaten in this city, to find out what we want to know?

[iTookUrNick]

"You make a good point. We need to know more about this festival. With all likelihood, that is where things will go down." says César "Now, what those things are and how to stop them: this is what we need to know."

"I suppose I can ask people working for the city administration what has been planned already. I can also hit a few merchants, see who has been asked to supply what."

Spoiler: OOC

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Let me know if/what I need to roll. I would go as Cesar to the city officials and as Ben to the merchants.
@GM: What was that Black-Onyx Amulet I have on my sheet, I wonder?

[Woggle]

After a brief convening, the trio of Rosa, César, and Borgrim head out on their own once more with the intent to meet up at the Church of At'ar.

Rosa makes a beeline back to Nicodemus' shack, which she finds still devoid of wizards. She leafs through an assortment of notes written on a wide array of parchments and vellums. She finds a few recent additions, written in the old wizard's hand, on the nature and movements of Zanbar Bone's tower, as well as a small scrawled map with the tower's currently scried location in the dense forest to the north-east of Port Blacksand. Two points appear most important:

• "...Just like Bone, the tower's power is linked to the Moon. It must be bathed in the light of a full Moon in order for it to shift between locations..."
• "...His {Zanbar Bone's} ability to walk across moonlight, while potent, appears to be strictly limited: any physical obstacle significantly more solid than cloud might well sever Bone from the Ethereal completely (at least until he returns to an area of moonlight) and force him back into the Material..."

Looking through the stacks of books and scrolls, Rosa finds one that seems pertinent: Pen Ty Kora's Fundamentals of the Planes: On the Nature of the Cosmos. The entry on the Ethereal repeats much of what she knows already, and it confirms what she may have feared: In order to directly interact with a creature on the Ethereal, one must be on the Ethereal as well. Magics which allow travel onto the Ethereal are rare and powerful. However, author notes that against certain creatures (fiends, celestials, fey, undead, etc.), a Magic Circle might be an effective way of preventing travel through the Ethereal, even if the creature is already on the Ethereal when it enters said circle. Finding a creature requires potent scrying magic that can see beyond planes, though if a creature is near on the Ethereal, then abilities which allow one to see the invisible (whether supernatural or magical) would also work on the Ethereal.

Rosa continues her searching for a good while longer, but to no avail. Much of the reading refers to theories and phenomena beyond her current scope of knowledge, so she eventually decides she's found all she can and begins her walk to meet with the others and Furtha.

---

César makes his way to the Office of Administration and Permits on Palace Road, passing through the bustle of Market Square on the way. He enters the small, unassuming building, and is led to the head administrator promptly by a fastidiously polite goblin. The administrator, an aging, bespectacled man with wild white hair greets César with an enthusiastic handshake. He explains that the Festival of Sowing involves many performers gathering primarily in Market Square, along with the customary burning of small effigies representing Old Man Winter (or sometimes the Prince of Frosts), lighting of small fireworks, and lots of eating and drinking. The festivities culminate in a number of processions through the city to a number of the churches, the greatest of which leads to the Temple of At'ar, where a young boy and girl are anointed as the Children of Sowing in a special ceremony at midnight. The administrator mentions that while animal sacrifices used to be done, they've recently been replaced with symbolic sacrifices of specially stuffed and prepared cured livestock.

Talking with the folk at the Merchant's Guild building, Benedict receives a run-down of the goods being brought into Port Blacksand in preparation for the festival: many barrels alcohol, particularly local ciders, along with meads and ales, many cured and candied meats, reed effigies (doll-sized) of Old Man Winter, and many other trinkets including paper lanterns, strings of fireworks, incense, and small blessing parchments.

---

Borgrim, unsure where to begin his search for a bard, wanders south across the Singing Bridge and continues along Singing Avenue. He moves effortlessly through the crowds moving to and fro from Market Square, most folk unconsciously stepping aside for the imposing half-orc. Walking past the sign for The Hog and Frog, Borgrim shrugs and turns about. Inside he settles into one of the foyers where music is being played on a small gilded harp by a young human man. There is only one other patron in the room; a half-elven woman of indeterminate age looks up as Borgrim enters and waves to the seat beside her. After a few pleasantries the woman suggests Borgrim turn some of his coin into libations, which she in turn can use to fuel her storytelling. After a few rounds of cloud ale she begins to recount what she has come across in her hundred or so years, regarding Nicodemus and his exploits.

Over the course of many more drinks, Borgrim listens to a number of tales. Nicodemus was one of three star pupils to an old elven wizard, possibly as many as two hundred years ago. Nicodemus, along with Pen Ty Kora and Yostromo, became rivals of Zanbar Bone while they were still studying under the same elven master. The three feuded with Zanbar Bone over the course of many decades, before they believed they had defeated Bone for good. After that, Nicodemus travelled the lands to the south and east of Port Blacksand, from the Moonstone Hills to the city of Fang, to Salamonis in the Darkwood, helping folk in need. Some tales recount Nicodemus travelling with a dwarf by the name of Gillibran, now king of the dwarf clan in the moonstone hills. How they met is not known, but the two did work together to thwart the resurrection of two ancient elven sorcerers by a necromancer and goblin horde. At the last moment before the ritual was complete, Nicodemus and Gillibran managed to slay the necromancer and disperse the goblins, and later destroy the goblin horde with the help of a dwarf trope from the south.

Another tale told of the death of Pen Ty Kora, Nicodemus' long-time friend and fellow wizard. Many years after having though Zanbar Bone dead, Nicodemus was lured into a trap by several of Bones' servants. Nicodemus managed to escape, was cursed in the process by a potent withering death spell. Unable to lift the curse himself, Nicodemus sought out Pen Ty Kora, who was renowned as a healer. Pen Ty Kora was able to thwart the death magic, but during the cleansing ritual succumbed to the curse herself. Afterward, Nicodemus enlisted the help of his friends Gillibran the dwarf, Yostromo the Wizard, and Owen Carralif (now mayor of Silverton, but then a young swordsman of some repute) to slay Zanbar Bone once and for all. After a long hunt and dreadful battle against Zanbar Bone's summoned demons, Nicodemus and his friends managed to once again defeat Bone. They then went their separate ways, Yostromo far to the northern edge of the Darkwood, Nicodemus to Port Blacksand and retirement, Gillibran to the south and the Moonstone hills, and Owen Carralif to Silverton.

The half-elven bard tells a few other tales of minor exploits; defeating some manticore here, thwarting an outbreak of disease there, but any other tales are less and less reliable. Finally, the bard thanks Borgrim for the drink and company through heavily slurred speech, and settles into her chair for a nap. Borgrim, a little tipsy, leaves the inn to meet up with the others and Furtha.

---

At the Temple of At'ar an acolyte leads Rosa, Borgrim, and César to Furtha's study, then hurries off to resume his duties elsewhere. The three find Furtha pouring of lists of church inventories, no doubt preparing for the Festival of Sowing in two days. He looks up and offers a strained, tired smile in greeting.

"Ah, hello, hello, do come in, close the door, would you? I'm afraid I've made little progress on our, uh, 'agreement', but perhaps if you have any specific questions I can offer something? The festival preparations have taken up much of my time, you see. At'ar does lover her equinoxes..." Furtha trails off and lowers his gaze to his papers, tracing his finger across lines of tables and columns.

[WalkingTheShade]

In the streets

Rosa takes detours, backtracks and makes unexpected stops beyond corners, with Mao watching from the rooftops. After all, they found the cultists through magic and these elves seem to have mastered their own brand of sorcery. They may well be able to find her now, outside the most-certainly warded abode of Nicodemus.

Spoiler: OOC

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Check Rosa's not being tailed. Well, she's horned, alright, but she doesn't have a tail and she's looking for pursuers: Perception - (1d20+5)[11], Extra - (1d20+5)[19].

---

Oustide the temple

When she meets her companions under the shadow of the temple of A'tar, Rosa looks worried. She takes good care there are no eavesdroppers before she speaks.

"Two news, not good ones. Going through Nicodemus' papers, it seems that it's not Bone's spirit only that travels through the ethereal, but his whole body. Second, arcane procedures relating to the ethereal are sadly well above my current skills." Rosa's grows deeply dejected with this last sentence. She looks both angry and ashamed of herself, keeping her eyes on the pavement.

Rosa is lost in thought as the Master whipers yet again: Well, if one spent more time and effort at her studies and less time cavorting above rooftops with rogues, rascals, reprobates and rabble-rousers, it's conceivable progress and a finer grasp of the High Art would entail, isn't it? Pathetic despondency is a miser's solace from a situation of one's creation. Rosa's frown furrows deeply.

"I'm fed up with this, F-ing fed up," grumbles Rosa, as she kicks a piece of broken pavestone.

She freezes for a second and finally raises her eyes. "Moonlight. Both his tower and himself travel using moonlight, right? A spell to make the sky overcast well may be something simpler I can manage."

---

At Furtha's

Rosa sour mood returns as the priest tries to coax them with excuses. "Do you take us for idiots? Don't sugar coat your words. You made strictly no progress." Rosa shakes her head and exhales heavily, wishing she could breath fire.

"Make yourself useful: Those spirit you used to call, how did you bind them in place? Did you use a specific spell, ritual or implement? I doubt spells of this inherent complexity were available to you."

[iTookUrNick]

Oustide the temple

Cesar meets with his companion, his demeanour a little sour. "I didn't manage to uncover anything particularly suspicious or otherwise notable on my side of things. As we already surmised, the festival will be happening in and around Market square, with the main procession going down temple road. There will be burned effigies and sacrifices of cured animal carcasses. Two children will be anointed here in the temple. We can expect loud noises and bangs at all times, which might be a hinderance of a boon."

He listens to Rosa as she speaks. "Do not berate yourself. We all have room to improve." He adds: "Perhaps we should look in some spell to create mist or darkness."

---

At Furtha's
Cesar shakes his head when he hears the priest pitiful excuses. "Well, we might have to pick up your slack now. We'll need you to provide us with the means to contact your clients in the conjuring business, and see if we can work our way back from there".

Spoiler: OOC

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Well, if I read things correctly perhaps they would be willing to pay us to get rid of the crow cult (= their competition).

[Kaptin Keen]

Outside:

Borgrim listens intently to what the others report. As Cézar finishes, he states simply: It's going to be the children, isn't it?

His own report is deplorably short: I listened to every tale spun about Nicodemus, Bone and their compatriots. It's near-incestuous, the number of times they've fought and won and fought again. There's something there - I swear it - but I cannot put my finger on it. Something about that curse.

Anyways, I'm none the wiser, sorry.

Inside:

Preparations, eh? Tell me about the .. anointment.

[Woggle]

Rosa sour mood returns as the priest tries to coax them with excuses. "Do you take us for idiots? Don't sugar coat your words. You made strictly no progress." Rosa shakes her head and exhales heavily, wishing she could breath fire.

"Make yourself useful: Those spirit you used to call, how did you bind them in place? Did you use a specific spell, ritual or implement? I doubt spells of this inherent complexity were available to you."

Furtha's head shoots up and his eyes widen. He nearly jumps out of his robes in order to bound to the door, slamming it shut. He whirls about to face Rosa.

"Hush! Hush! Do you want the Church to hang us all, by N'asr's bloody hand!? Because I've no doubt they will, if they find out!" Furtha hisses in a loud whisper. He takes a deep breath and calms a little. Moving back behind his desk, he continues.

"Yes, I've found little else, but, truth be told, I doubt there is much left too be found. The only references are of a two-centuries old cult which even back then was secretive. Maybe if we could scour the Ducal Library in Kallamehr we'd find something more..." Furtha throws up his hands in a gesture of resignation. "The last bit I've found is a reference to a town to the west of Kallamehr coming under some sort of attack around the time the Cult of the Carrion Crow is mentioned elsewhere. The secondhand accounts tell of strange, bird-like demons killing townsfolk during a harvest festival. Now, I realize that a harvest festival isn't a planting festival... but it's an interesting coincidence."

Furtha narrows his eyes when Rosa moves on to discussion of spirits. He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair.

"You are half right in that the ritual is indeed not complex. That is not where it's difficulty lies. It's difficulty lies in the care that must be taken in order to extract power from blood as smoothly and as evenly as possible. Such care comes with concerted, involved study and prolonged practice. Sanctified ground can help in this regard, but not enough to render it unimportant. I'll let slide your little jab at my competence; I'd not expect a hedge wizard of your middling talent to appreciate the craft involved." Furtha shakes his head slowly. "I could show you the form of the ritual, certainly, but developing the skill to exact the control necessary would take time. Assuming, of course, you have the aptitude for it."

At Furtha's
Cesar shakes his head when he hears the priest pitiful excuses. "Well, we might have to pick up your slack now. We'll need you to provide us with the means to contact your clients in the conjuring business, and see if we can work our way back from there".

Spoiler: OOC

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Well, if I read things correctly perhaps they would be willing to pay us to get rid of the crow cult (= their competition).

Furtha dabs at bead of sweat with a handkerchief as his face grows pale at César's suggestion.

"They'll do worse than hang me if they find out I've been helping you three. And if they find you out, well, they'll likely do the same to you, too. If they'd wanted your help with this bloody mess I suspect they would have already tried to contact you. My apologies, but you won't contact them through me. Not willingly, anyhow." Furtha smiles weakly.

Inside:

Preparations, eh? Tell me about the .. anointment.

Furtha seems eager to change the subject, and he happily turns his thoughts to the upcoming festival.

"Oh, well, two lucky youths are chosen. They're carried at the head of the great procession which winds from the Palace, through Market Square --where it really grows in number-- and finally along Temple Road, ending up on the steps just outside. The doors of the temple open, with all the clergy lined on either side as the High Priestess leads the two to the alter of At'ar. There they are adorned with circlets of gold entwined with reeds and linen gowns. They are then presented with a cattail, sprig of pussywillow, and fresh apple blossoms. They drink of sanctified pear and apple cider. The High Priestess conducts her rites, bestowing the bounty of the Spring Equinox, and then they are lead back to the steps where they light the final effigy of the Prince of Frost (Old Man Winter). Then that's that, and everyone celebrates. Plenty of folk drink to excess, dance through the streets, light fireworks, etc., etc. A jolly old time."

Furtha looks back to Rosa and César. "Why exactly does your master need to know all this? I would think he'd already be familiar... Oh, and if you absolutely need me to conduct the ritual, then I can figure it out. I doubt I'll be able to manage it in the church, though. Not before the festival, at any rate."

[Kaptin Keen]

A truly fearsome frown gathers on Borgrim's face. He steps up, quite, quite close to Furtha, and growls in a voice that requires no reply at all:

Middling talent, little man? You do realize that I could split you in twain, right now - that we could destroy you utterly, and no one in this church or likely this entire city could save or even avenge you? In fact - since we have proof of your demonic dabblings - we could kill you where you stand and be cheered as heroes.

Mind your manners, soap box preacher, or face my unbridled wrath!

Spoiler: OOC

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Intimidate: (1d20+6)[8]

Like hell is this little npc talking crap to us! Unless my roll is awful. Damn, I wish we had Fate Points.

Edit: See what I mean. I resign as chief intimidator of the group. Bloody dice! :p

[WalkingTheShade]

Rosa grabs Borgrim by the arm, hoping and failing to hold him back. "It's alright, it's alright, the priest is right, he didn't deserve what I told him. Don't hurt him because of me," she adds, with a voice almost childish.

Rosa looks horrified by the situation. Yet, she doesn't look fearful of Borgrim. She even gives him an almost grateful smile.

Turning back to Furtha: "You are right, I won't be able to reproduce years of dedication to your trade with a few hours of dilettantism. You already have your doubts, so this next query won't come as a surprise: If required, could you summon Bone again? Surely, it wouldn't be too difficult for a man of your skills." Rosa raises a questioning eyebrow, as her smile turns feral.

Spoiler: OOC

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I'm not rolling yet. I'm waiting to see how Furtha reacts to the idea. I have a few lines of argumentation depending on how he reacts. I'll roll persuasion then. Or better, César could roll persuasion.

[iTookUrNick]

César shrugs at being denied by the priest, letting the matter drop without trouble. He is about to step to calm his big friend, but Rosa's reaction seems to be good enough for him. Instead, he fixes hi sight on the priest, ready to lend his persuasiveness to the cause. A cause which, he debates internally, he is not sure it is wise to pursue.

[Woggle]

Furtha recoils visibly from Borgrim. He holds up his hands in a placating gesture.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you could do away with me. I did not mean to imply that Rosa would be incapable of learning such a ritual, just that it would require significant dedication and time to master. I do apologize... I will add, though, that you'll need more than just a strong argument to convince the High Priestess that killing a priest from among her clergy was justified. In case you need any more convincing that we appear to be in this together for the time being."

Furtha relaxes a little and pours himself a stiff drink, offering a glass to any who would accept. After a large swig while he listens to Rosa's proposal, he taps his chin as he contemplates his reply.

"I could perform another ritual to attempt to entice Bone to return. I could even make it more tempting than the last. But I cannot summon him directly. That would require his true name at the very least; more would likely be required to have any power of compulsion over him. And even then, the power required to overcome his will, and his own --no doubt considerable-- protective magics is beyond me. It is one thing to send out an invitation, enticing as it may be. It is quite another, however, to drag an unwilling soul in chains to your feet."

As César remains silent, he watches the old priest hesitate. Furtha makes a motion as if to ask some question, then appears to think better of it. Instead he takes another sip of his drink.

Spoiler: OOC

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Sorry about the delay. Oh! The map looks good to me! I don't think it needs any other changes.

[WalkingTheShade]

Clearly, Rosa isn't happy with Furtha's answers, but this time she keeps that sentiment to herself.

"And I guess one can't forcibly pull him out of the Æther, either..." Rosa becomes thoughtful again. "Let's leave Bone aside for now. Have you ever heard of spells or anyone in town able to control weather? Conjure winds, clouds, rain? Not anything dangerous, just enough to water crops for an hours or two?"

[Kaptin Keen]

As the chances of things escalating into violence start to drop, Borgrim's mind begins to wander. For such a big man, he can be surprisingly unobtrusive when he wants to. As Furtha, Rosa and César get deep in their discussion of things foul, arcane and abominable, Borgrim let's his gaze wander across Furtha's study.

Surely the priest wouldn't have left his black grimoire lying around in plain sight on his table - but watchful eyes and clever minds may discover many things.

Spoiler: OOC

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There is more of the assassin than the spy in Borgrim. He can be stealthy, but his investigation skill is none-existant. But he can try.
Investigate: (1d20+1)[5] - that's just basic perception, btw.
Stealth: (1d20+4)[11] - in case nothing obvious springs to mind, he can poke around a bit, hopefully unseen. If seen, he'll act dumb and orcy.
Sleight of hand: (1d20+2)[4] Borgrim also doesn't have Sleight of hand, but should anything truly interesting pop up (depending on the previous two rolls), well finders are keepers, right?

Argh, pathetic! Why don't I play a rogue?

[Woggle]

"And I guess one can't forcibly pull him out of the Æther, either..." Rosa becomes thoughtful again. "Let's leave Bone aside for now. Have you ever heard of spells or anyone in town able to control weather? Conjure winds, clouds, rain? Not anything dangerous, just enough to water crops for an hours or two?"

"Not pull him out, exactly, but if one were to lure him, say, into a suitably prepare magic circle, that would sever him from the Ethereal and prevent his moon-walking. Of course, you'd have to trick Bone or hide the circle well. It would likely have the added benefit of reducing his other sorcerous powers while he remained inside, as well."

Furtha tilts his head and scritches his chin in thought. After a half-minute of contemplation, he replies: "The only person that comes to mind is Madam Star. She's halfling with a booth in Market Square, and styles herself as a fortuneteller. But" Furtha taps his nose knowingly, "I've heard tell she used to be a member of one of the old druidic orders. I guess giving out fortunes pays better these days. She'd be your best bet. Unless, of course, you manage to stumble upon the wizard Nicodemus in your travels. Rumour has it he's retired in the city, but who knows where that old coot might be hiding?" Furtha shrugs.

As the chances of things escalating into violence start to drop, Borgrim's mind begins to wander. For such a big man, he can be surprisingly unobtrusive when he wants to. As Furtha, Rosa and César get deep in their discussion of things foul, arcane and abominable, Borgrim let's his gaze wander across Furtha's study.

Surely the priest wouldn't have left his black grimoire lying around in plain sight on his table - but watchful eyes and clever minds may discover many things.

While Furtha is otherwise engaged with Rosa, Borgrim makes a surreptitious sweep of the sideboard and cabinets at the other side of the room. A quick, quiet rummage doesn't turn up anything suspicious, however. Only numerous bottles of (presumably) high quality brandies, sherries, ports, and a few other more obscure liqueurs. Borgrim shuffles through a couple stacks of papers, but again, nothing jumps out and screams "Sorcery!" to the barbarian. Furtha either doesn't notice, or decides to ignore Borgrim's nosing about, perhaps concerned about provoking the muscled half-orc.

[WalkingTheShade]

Rosa does her best not to react at Nicodemus' mention, but misses a breath.

"Yes, let's not dwell on hypotheticals. Madame Star you said? We'll go pay her a visit. On your side, would you need something to prepare that magic circle? Is that possible for you? Or should we look into it ourselves?"

[Woggle]

Furtha nods. "I'll make preparations for a magic circle. Don't worry about funds at this time; I may ask for a small tithe once this is all over. A good day to you all!

Furtha ushers the three out and grabs the attention of one of the novices, who he sends off at a trot to collect materials, presumably for the magic circle. He waves goodbye and turns back to his study.

---

Outside the Temple Borgrim, César and Rosa head up the busy Temple Road to Market Square. Vendors and street-hawkers are shooed away and it takes little time to locate Madam Star, whose booth is set up on the northern edge of the square. From within her purple-draped tent a diminutive halfling woman dressed in yellow and mauve gestures invitingly. Inside is a simple round wooden table with a velvet cover, on which sits a crystal ball. The halfling's garb is fine but simple; her only adornment the silver and turquoise headdress on her brow which holds back thick brown curls streaked with grey.

Madam Star looks to each of the three in turn. She studies each face for a few moments in silence. Nodding to herself, she covers the crystal with a cloth and tells the trio to meet her in ten minutes at an address on South River Road, where she promises they can discuss matters of import in privacy.

Ten minutes later, Madam Star answers a knock to a small house set back from the street. She tells the trio that practice of magic outside the temples is frowned upon, except for Lady Salancia's own court sorcerer, and that she herself hasn't practiced druid craft for many years. "Telling fortunes pays better, for a start," she laughs. She listens carefully to Rosa, Borgrim, and César, and agrees that she can have a simple weather spell ready to go for the day of the festival. She refuses and compensation, saying that if the three are concerned enough to seek her out, then she will do her utmost to protect any innocents. She offers the trio a glass of spice cider, and then bids them good luck.

---

A short jaunt north to the Singing Bridge finds Nicodemus returned to his abode. He greets the three from his rocking chair, lit pipe in hand.

"More scrying, is it? I suppose I can see what I can do..."

Nicodemus sets about preparing for the scrying, occasionally calling on Rosa for a hand in setting down a rune here or a component there. He takes the feather from Rosa, and after fifteen minutes of work, settles back into his chair and closes his eyes. His eyes move rapidly beneath the lids as he remains otherwise motionless. Occasionally the old wizard mumbles softly to himself. After several minutes, he opens his eyes and wipes a bead of sweat from his brow. He re-lites his pipe and then informs the party of what he saw.

"It would appear our feathered friends are holed up in an old tower off of Dagger Lane, near the corner of Knife Street. I think it may have once been a rookery at one time, which I must say is quite the coincidence. It's a run-down area, and it didn't look like anyone habitually went in or out of the place. Probably abandoned for a while. It's likely the cult is entering and leaving by way of the upper story windows."

"Unfortunately, the individual I attempted to scry has some sort of talisman of non-detection. Unsophisticated and primal, but apparently quite effective. I couldn't see them at all, no matter how I tried. And inside the tower, too, was hazy. Apart from being dark, I couldn't tell you much more. I'm afraid that's all I can give you."

Nicodemus sighs and leans back in his chair, chewing the end of his pipe. He gives a half-hearted shrug. "Ah, maybe I am getting too old... ah, but at least I got a hand on some good tobacco for once!"

The old wizard settles back and folds his hands across his chest, cradling the bowl of his pipe. He closes his eyes.

"I think I'll shut my eyes for a while, it's been a busy day after all. See yourselves out whenever you like..."

A minute later and Nicodemus begins to snore softly.

Spoiler: OOC

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Sorry about the delay. If you've anything to add/react/etc. retroactively, please feel free!

[WalkingTheShade]

Madame Star

"The day of the festival, maybe. Maybe earlier. Prepare that spell and be ready, we'll send you a messenger when we need it. The message will be 'The rosebush needs rainy nights'," adds Rosa with a smile. "We'll need the spell one hour after you get that message. And thanks for your help, it's most welcome."

---

Nicodemus

Rosa hesitated to ask Nicodemus about her plan regarding Bone, yet the old man seems too tired for that. When he falls back asleep, she signals her friend to follow her outside the wizard's tent.

"So, smoke them out? Alchemist fire shouldn't be too hard to come by. We can force them out of that tower and ambush them in the street. Although... we should check if they have neighbors. I don't want to lit innocents up accidentally."

[iTookUrNick]

“I would caution against letting them dictate the tempo of our encounter as much as possible. I would rather not give up what surprise we might still have. We might not be our enemies, but they are not our friends either.” says Cèsar, dubiously.
“I would go in quiet, snatch one of the higher ups, and question them. We might be friendlier later on, once we know more.
He adds: “Besides, lighting their house on fire doesn’t strike me as the friendliest approach either...”

[Kaptin Keen]

So a stealth mission? I agree with that sentiment. Stealth is actually something of a middle name for me. Borgrim Stealth Grim Leaper Wyldstrike.

By the way, I think I've just about puzzled everything out. I'm fairly certain the crow cult are sort of Soul Custodians. That's why they're after Furtha and the Night Hag - and it's also why they were at Nicodemus' house.

See, it works like this: They are two sides of the same coin. Not the same person, but inverse aspects of the same entity. When Nicodemus sleeps, Bone wakes.

I'm slightly hazy on the details, I admit, but I suspect all shall become clear after we cleave some more people in half.

Borgrim beams brightly at his Big Reveal, as if it's all but self explanatory once you think about it.

Oh, and I suspect it will be wise to keep the specifics of our plan from Nicodemus. I don't think they are aware of each other - but there might be ... seepage?