3.5e Batman Campaign (2.0)

[Molan]

Bruce took the entire discussion in stride, his expressions betraying nothing. Alfred, Richard and Damien all seemed to lean away from him, ever so subtly with their postures and body language, as if they expected him to snap.

But he didn't; instead, he remained stone faced, and quiet for a while, looking out over the river, before eventually quietly saying, "We should take this inside."

He turned and began limping back up towards the castle. That seemed to unsettle the two knights and their squire even more than a beratement would have; Sir Alfred and Sir Richard each shared worried looks, before turning away from the gate and heading up after him. Damien, Kate, and Oracle soon followed suit. Bruce led them back to The Cave, and once they were quietly ensconced away from the ears of House Wayne's last few servants, they resumed their deliberations.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you, Oracle." Bruce said. "And, frankly," he nodded his head towards Kate. "My good cousin has a point. Gotham is better off now than it was when those mind-thieves were running around."

This admission seemed to make Richard and Alfred all the more uneasy -- neither had seemed that unhappy to learn that Oracle had dispatched The Hatter for good, but Bruce's behavior didn't seem to match their expectations, and it was bothering them.

Spoiler: OOC

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Not necessary but if anyone wants they can make a Sense Motive check here.

"But," he added. "I think we need to take a step back, and think about what's transpired, and how we've operated so far. Lord Tetch's death isn't the product of just one decision. We've been running around chasing our tales; the High Lords and the Crime Lords play their games and we keep trying to clean up after them, even after the bodies are already cold. We need to do better, and change that paradigm. Oracle's right; we have to stop reacting and start preventing. Otherwise we will be picking up the pieces after House James has fallen."

"Well then, Lord Bruce, what exactly do you propose we do?" Pennyworth asked.

"So far as I see it, sparring with the bankers is the wrong way to go. I think -- again -- you three are right. You've done significant damage to the Thieves' Guild's corrupt grip on a large number of the Justicars. I think that means we need to try and trust Lord Marshall Gordon to deal with the Bankers and their shenanigans, at least for now. The most important thing we can do, I think, is to track down Harvey Dent or, failing that, the Cypher, and make sure that no one finds a way to take control of The Beast. But when the Jester was at large, he was a serious threat. I'm not entirely surprised to hear that he's started to inspire copycats, and on the off chance there is something going on at Arkham the Inquisition hasn't warned anyone about, we should investigate it."

"That sounds a bit like trying to be in two places at once," Sir Richard pointed out. "How are we supposed to do both?"

"Yeah, not to mention," Spoiler interjected, "At some point we do need to deliver the Eye of Ymir back to House Kyle. Selena's getting really nervous about getting that delivery to Lord Fries, and personally I'm more than a bit miffed about what might happen if any of Velnire's remaining buddies will try to get revenge."

"I agree, but we don't need to be in three places at once," said Bruce. "Sir Richard, Sir Alfred and myself can work on tracking down the cypher. I'm still struggling a bit but most of this work will be quiet, intel gathering. If we need a grease man Nightwing can handle that. Spoiler and Robyn, you two should deliver the Eye as quickly as you can and get those communication gems back from 'Lady' Kyle. The benefit of being able to split up but stay in touch will be invaluable. Dame Kate, Oracle and Damien should focus on running down this Fools' Guild lead."

"If you can provide me with a description," Oracle replied, "I can use the Scryer's Lab to scan the incarcerated Jester and the new imposter we ran into. With any luck I can determine the scale and scope of our problem, try to determine what they're doing next, and sus out our next move."

For a moment, Bruce almost looked like he might smile.

"Well. That I can do."

************************************************** ************************************************** ********************************

Spoiler: Oracle's Scrying

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Oracle prepared her next scrying spell at the diviner's lab, and energy coruscated out of the mirror as she began to project her consciousness outward, toward the Arkham Witches' Asylum. Damien, Kate, Bruce, Alfred and Richard stood back away from her, near the still-defunct crystal ball table in the center of the room. Spoiler and Robyn were gone -- back to the narrows, with the Eye of Ymir in their possession. Around the glowing mirror, several scrolls, parchments and clippings were hung; sketches of the Jester, articles of the Herald from when his reign of terror was at it's peak, and a trick flower that had -- apparently -- been connected to a small pump similar to a perfume dispenser, which allowed the user to project a burst of acid from a small reservoir at a nearby victim. Bruce had kept that little trinket after their last encounter; it was a murder weapon that'd been used to kill the former Treasurer of the Bards' Guild at a dinner.

A vision began to appear before Oracle's eyes, and the spell's sensor seemed to almost be hurtling towards the Narrows, and the asylum itself, as though she was flying through the air. She hurdled over the main gate and then -- nothing. Grainy static, no picture, just gray noise. Finally, darkness, and the spell ended.

"Fug." Oracle sighed.

"Let me guess," said Sir Alfred, serenely. "The Asylum is warded."

"Heavily," Oracle replied. "I could actually see what looked like the signs of some abjurations and anti-magic fields as I flew in, maybe even the hint of some psionic containment mechanisms, though I can't be sure. But that'd make sense, given how eager the Inquisition was to scoop up Raam and his buddies. In any case, I have two concerns, one being that we're not going to see a damn thing inside that place without physically visiting. The other problem we might face is that, once inside, if we're not careful, we could find ourselves in situations where height Kate nor my powers will function properly."

"Well," Sir Richard sighed, rubbing his chin. "They can't have made the entire thing an anti-magic zone; otherwise Velnire's heist with the Eye of Ymir would never have worked. The Asylum would have been spared the Eye's effects. Unless they warded it that way afterward, I guess."

"I doubt it." said Oracle. "The amount of effort and resources they would need to expend to do something like that at the Witches' Asylum would be...cost prohibitive. Even for the Church. More to the point; let's say that the Inquisition got it's friends in the capitol to actually pony up the resources, even then, a project at that scale would have been impossible to conceal. We'd know if they burned magic out of the entire place. Plus, this type of spellcraft is dicey -- it's a bit indiscriminate. Psionics and Magic are different, but anti-magic zones tend to be indiscriminate by nature."

"What do you mean?" Kate asked.

"She means," said Questor, arriving late from behind them. "That the Inquisition's own divine connections would be severed by a blanket field as well. They'd lose their own abilities."

"Exactly. My guess is, there are sections of the asylum, or perhaps even individual cells or cell blocks, that are warded that way. And I'd bet gold that the Manifesters' Ward is separate from where they keep the Rogue Magi. So we wouldn't be powerless as soon as we cleared the gate, but we'd have to be careful."

"Alright, Oracle." said Bruce. "Let's try the imposter next."

Oracle began her spell anew. This time, things actually started out swimmingly. The sensor found her target almost immediately, and though there was a brief moment of truth when she waited to see if it'd sneak past his mental defenses, she got in with barely a hitch at all. She found herself inside what looked like a macabre sort of hide out. She was left with the distinct impression that she was in what might have once been an actors' dressing or rehearsal room in an abandoned theatre; which theatre or where was anyone's guess, but she felt as though South Channel Island was as good a guess as anywhere. The place seemed grisly. The room was run down, worn, decrepit, with bugs crawling along the floor and the walls and the once vibrant, garish tapestries that'd decorated it faded and growing with moss. There were wood carvings in some places of grinning clown masks, now cracked and defaced, like grinning demons dancing on the walls. At the center of the image with the Jester impostor, lounging on a foul looking couch, pointing a hand crossbow at someone or something just out of the frame.

"I've gotta say, Canden, I'm really disappointed! I had thought we were a family. You were supposed to help our movement establish a new world order! Our god has made Himself known! Then you've got to go skipping off and yap-yap-yapping to a Justicar's garrison about what we've been planning. I'm -- honestly. I'm shocked. What were you thinking, my child?"

"Canden" whimpered something out of frame, but Oracle couldn't hear what he'd said.

The Jester Imposter's tan, narrow face twisted into a rictus of anger. "THAT! Is a LIE!" he snarled. "One sniveling little wizard swoops into a gathering of our church and sets up a couple of overlapping spells and tells you all these lies, and bam! Just like that!? You defect from our flock! That's insane Canden. IN. SANE."

The "Jester" turned his back on Canden for a moment, shaking his head in what seemed like disappointment, before slowly turning his face over his shoulder to catch his off-screen victim's eye. "And believe me, that's a subject I know a thing or two about."

The "Jester" whirled around and fired his hand crossbow in a sort of trick, from-the-hip shot, and it's bolt landed somewhere outside of the sensor's reach. Oracle didn't need to wonder whether or not he'd hit his target -- "Canden's" whimpers had stopped, and a sick grin had crossed the deviant criminal's face.

Another voice laughed, shocking Oracle out of her temporarily horrified paralysis.

"Good shot, puddin'." the woman's voice purred.

The "Jester" and "Oracle" both turned back to look at the couch he'd been lying on; his place had been taken by a lithe, beautiful, and utterly mad looking woman wearing painted, enchanted leather gear, white, red and black paint on her face and die in her hair.

"We should take ole' Cammy out to the boys and let them beat him with sticks so the rest o'th' flock doesn't get any silly ideas."

The "Jester" cackled, but shook his head.

"No can do, Harley! We just simply don't have enough time. The new recruits will all be here tonight, and I'm expecting a bigger than average harvest. The time's come to move onto phase two."

"If you say so puddin," she sighed, seeming immediately bored. "But I gotta tell you I got no idea why we gotta schlep it up over there. It's in the fuggin' boonies."

"Tell me about it. But we've tried everything at this point and damn near nothing is bringing that slimy little Two-Face out of hiding. The Bat hasn't found him, the damn Justicars haven't found him -- we won't be able to complete our plan unless we run that little dung beetle down. We run Equinox job, and the authorities will have to take him seriously. That fugger won't be able to stay hidden for long after that."

"You really think people are gonna rise up against the church like that? Feels like if there's anyone they should be mad at it's the High Lords."

The "Jester" cackled much harder this time, seemingly thrilled at whatever irony she'd just uncovered. He moved towards the couch, and she angled herself so that when he flopped down near her, she was able to lithely shift and place herself on top of him, her head near the top of his chest.

"But don't yousee, Harley!? That's the delicious beauty of it. The High Lords are running this city into the ocean, and everyone who lives here along with it. But they stopped pretending they were looking out for anyone other than themselves centuries ago. The Church, on the other hand...well. That's different, isn't it? The church feeds the poor! Except when it doesn't. The Church protects the weak! Except no one in Gotham is safe. The Church...the Church...the Church is the Empire! It owes the people of this city, and it's not paying up! Trust me, we'll have these people hanging clerics from lantern posts way before they ever realize who's really fugging them over. And by the time anyone realizes what's happening, it'll be too late! The College'll keep dithering until we're knocking on their door, and the Nobles and the Dark Knight will take care of each other for us!"

"Harley" gave her paramour a big, toothy grin. "You sure puddin'? We still don't have the muscle yet in case the Blackgates or the Cobblepotts roll up here..."

"Oh, I'm sure all right. The Bankers smell blood. They'll be moving soon, against the Thieves Guild, the Justicars, anyone else they see as James loyalists. With any luck the Penguin'll set fire to Wayne Castle in broad daylight. The James' wont be able to protect themselves, and all we've got to do is give this town a little...push!"

"Harley" startled giggling, and nibbling on the "Jester's" prodigious chin in excitement, and a third figure walked into the frame. He was a freakish, hulking, muscular mass, likely a half-ogre or the like, but he was wearing the tattered remains of a performer's outfit.

"Sir, the congregants are here. It's time."

"Harley" pouted, but the "Jester" just grinned. "C'mon cupcake. Let's go put on a show."

************************************************** ************************************************** ********************************

Oracle finished her divination, and turned back towards the party, rubbing her temples. Eventually, she conveyed what she saw.

"What did his face look like?" asked Bruce. "Was it pale? Did you see what looked like makeup?"

She shook her head.

"No. He looked tan. His paramour was wearing what I think was makeup, but I couldn't be sure. This woman...'Harley', do you know her?"

Bruce shook his head.

"No way, but whoever this is, it makes me think this Jester really is a copycat. The clown I tangled with years ago was barely mortal. The idea of him having a...girlfriend? It's...it's impossible. Or it seems that way."

"Well, whoever they are, they're dangerous. I guess it's just a question of whether they're 'Jester' dangerous or just 'shoot a hostage' dangerous. He mentioned the Equinox festivities...how worried should we be about that?"

Alfred shrugged. "Hard to say. Equinox is still a week off. But it's put on by the Church and the Farm Lords; there'll be Justicars there, and Templars, maybe even some Paladins. If all this goon has to go off of is some middling arcana and a mob that can fit in a circus tent, I can't see how he'll truly threaten the celebrations. Meanwhile the Cobblepotts seem dangerously close to uncovering our secret -- or lashing out simply because they identify Houses Wayne and James together, if this charlatan is to be believed -- and we have all our other troubles besides."

"They mentioned the Dents." said Richard. "I wonder why they think Two Face is so important? Also, does anyone else get the distinct impression that they're way out of their depth? Harvey Dent's loyalists have magic and alchemical weapons, the ones who are left are hard core fighters. Maybe we should help them find each other. Problem might solve itself."

"So, this imposter is planning to disrupt the Equinox, and, we think, is probably not the real Jester? I suppose we could redirect our efforts if we could write this gang of idiots off. Do we want to break into the Asylum, just to be sure? We could just go after this 'Fools' Guild' gang I suppose. But they seem outgunned. Might be anticlimactic. Maybe we would be better off going after the Bankers."

[Molan]

"No." Oracle finally said, after some thought. "We need to destroy this cult. Worst case scenario, we'll finally get the Bards on the right side of this thing before everything really starts to get hairy. It's the right move -- the proactive move."

No one in the party disagreed, and the group began making their plans. Lord Bruce, Sir Richard and Sir Alfred would begin their hunt for the Cypher in greater earnest, and the party would strike at the cult on South Channel Island.

"Let's all get some rest," said Bruce. "Tonight we can begin."

************************************************** ************************************************** ********************************

THE NARROWS: HOUSE KYLE ROOFTOPS

Selena played with the Eye a little bet as she turned it end over end, letting it's cool bluish light dance around while frost began to creep along her claws.

"You really did it," she purred. "I've gotta say I'm impressed."

"Pfft. Be impressed with someone else," Spoiler rejoined coyly. "Robyn and I got wise, we just manned the getaway wagon. The Dark Knights went inside to nick this thing. Pretty fine work though, you're not wrong."

"It's a bummer the Wayne kid is already so deeply ensconced in his daddy's castle;" Robyn added. "He's got real potential. Would make a great Kyle."

"Ah well." Selena sighed lazily, casually tossing the Eye into her own bag of holding as she did so. "All things being equal his daddy can keep him. That's more work than I'm looking to handle, I'll tell you that much. Anyway, a deal's a deal." she reached into a pouch in her belt and tossed Robyn a small sack; inside were a handful of enchanted red gems. "Tell Bats not to miss me too terribly. Anyway, once we get this back to Fries, our debt'll be paid. That's one fewer problem to worry about."

"Hopefully a lot fewer problems, now?" said Spoiler. "Now that Velnire's in Blackgate and not fuggin' around in Midtown?"

"You'd like to think so," Selena said. "But we're not out of the woods yet. Midtown's a lot safer to operate in now that the Thieves're pulling back, sure. But we've got the Dark Marketeers moving in to try to scoop up their space. I had the girls start passing around Merchants' Guild recruitment fliers in all the local pubs just to start to push more troops Fox's way. Even if he keeps them at bay, Falcone's on the warpath. Two of our own showed up in gutters yesterday afternoon, with Padfoot's calling card on their bodies. Things are getting uglier, not prettier Steph."

Spoiler steeled herself, gritting her teeth under her mask. One step forward...three steps...

"But hey, you're doing good." Selena interrupted her thoughts. "Keep me appraised of what those dinks on Wayne Isle are up to and I'll keep you in the loop on what's happening downtown. You guys should go -- you look exhausted. Did you wanna spend the day crashed here, or...?

"No no, it's fine. We'll crash at the castle. But thanks. We'll keep you posted."

************************************************** ************************************************** ********************************

The next night, after some preparation, the party met in the Cave. Bruce's ship was already staffed and ready to return to South Channel Island, and Spoiler and Robyn had returned with the stones. Questor, Kate, Damien, Oracle, Spoiler and Robyn congregated to prepare for their next run. Alfred, Richard and Bruce had left some time earlier in the Coach, after their detective mission to track down the Cypher.

"Alright," said Questor. "Any last minute requests before we head out? Also, who wants to wear the amulet? It needs a central operator in order for the stones to work."

[MrAbdiel]

"No; not until word of our good deeds has trickled into the mage guild and they are pliable to suggestions of fair pricing. One day they'll understand their nearly priced themselves into ruin." Damien tuts, as he raids the poison cabinet in the cave; replenishing his stock of critical venoms for the task ahead...

"And I'll not take the Amulet, if I can help it." He pulls the lanyard around his neck to produce a grim talisman - a shrunken, mummified hand - which already occupies his neck chakra.

Spoiler: OOC: Poisons!

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Can I get a few stock Drow Poisons from the cave supply? Maybe 4? I might also make some minor potion and doodad purchases before I go, too, from the baseline stuff:

1 Longstrider
1 Exp. Retreat
1 Smokestick
1 See Invisibility
1 Antitoxin
2 Pass Without Trace
1 Protection from Evil

Those are all level 1 potions, except a smokestick and the level 2 See Invis. Any difficulty getting those at short notice? OH! And however many sets of manacles I can get from the batcave, as well as a bunch of chain to stuff into the haversack!

[JbeJ275]

"I’ll take the amulet, I’m used to controlling such magical items. As for equipment I’ve been trying to source a sapphire focus lens, and a secondary enchantment matrix to deepen the power of my mask."

[Molan]

The party found the equipment they needed in the Cave's armory; Alfred's agents had been working overtime with the Merchants' Guild to expand the armory's holdings, and before long the party was prepared for their next nightly raid.

Nightwing, the Dark Knight and Sir Pennyworth departed in the Dark Coach, and Kate, Damien, Questor and Oracle departed for the docks, and took Bruce's dark ship back out into the east river, retracing their path towards South Channel Island.

They docked at a new area on the island -- actually, docked was a generous way of putting it. The shadowy crew pulled the vessel up alongside a patch of the forested coast, closer to where the old carnival grounds could be located. There was what looked like a small, disused recreational fishing dock sticking out of the muddy shoreline. It was crumbling and moldy, and several planks were already missing, but it was close and stable enough for the vessel to pull up just alongside it and allow the Knights to disembark. Questor shared a moment with Kate before she disembarked, resting a hand against her glamoured helm, and then promised to stay on and look after the vessel for when the party would need to make their withdrawal. With that, the three Dark Knights tread into the forest, following Oracle's memory and knowledge of the area to the edge of the run down circus.

At first glance, at the edge of the fair, it seemed completely abandoned. Long strings still hung limply between some poles or tent tops with macabre banners hanging from them in rows, in other places the buildings, tents and ropes had already come down, half sagging into the slightly damp earth. It was a large enough area that it warranted further searching -- they were nowhere near the Big Top where Oracle had ambushed the cult meeting, at least not yet. But caution was warranted; if they weren't careful, they could find themselves walking into a huge circle of the wayward cultists, should they come upon them too suddenly. There were too many dilapidated tents to hide in, too many corners to see around.

Spoiler: OOC

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Okay! We've arrived. If you'd like I can start walking you through the carnival area, or if there are some search methods or marching orders you want to deploy, you can let me know what those are and we can act accordingly. Feel free to call for any checks you want to take.

In addition, now that you have the Farspeaking Amulet, you are more capable of splitting up and maintaining coms with other party members. For those who don't know, this is the item's properties:
FARSPEAKING AMULET
Body Slot: Throat
Caster Level: 5th
Aura: Faint; (DC17) divination
Activation: Swift (Command)
Weight: -

Description: To use a farspeaking amulet, one character wears the central crystal, while up to four others carry the four removable, red crystals. Removable crystals don’t occupy
a body slot, and can simply be carried. Charms can be removed or replaced as a standard action. The wearer can, with a standard (mental) action, return a single charm to the amulet from any distance, as long as it is on the same plane.

When you activate the amulet, you create a link between yourself and any or all of the characters carrying red charms, enabling all affected characters to converse as if standing together. This effect lasts for up to 10 minutes, and the amulet can be activated three times per day. Only characters on the same plane as the amulet’s wearer can participate in the conversation.

If you also wear a magic item that grants you a competence bonus on Listen checks when you activate the amulet, you can choose to also listen to the environment of any or all of the characters in the conversation as if you were present. The magic of the amulet allows you to differentiate between the various locations without undue confusion.

[Feathersnow]

Kate looks around, putting her survivalist training fo work to determine if they are alone, and if so, when someone was here last.

Spoiler: OoC

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(1d20+8)[18] survival

[Molan]

Scanning the area, Kate was able to quickly get a sense of the area.

Though the Carnival appeared long abandoned, the ground was damp and there were plenty of fresh foot tracks in the earth, of all varying shapes and sizes, passing to and fro. The area that the party was standing in appeared very much abandoned, but further up between a pair of larger stands there appeared to be an area that a lot of people had frequented recently, like a more heavily utilizes thoroughfare or a path that guards tended to patrol, or both.

It was quiet where they were, but north and slightly west of their position, she caught a whiff of smoke like from a campfire, a s what looked like a flickering that may have been shadows moving under a light source.

So far, so clear.

[MrAbdiel]

"...How are these knaves getting about the city to perform their ambushes? They either have access to significant teleport magic, or a tunnel, or a secret dock; some way to get to the arcane rail, at least."

Loping ahead of the group, Damien tries to keep to the shaded sides of the tents while checking in the closest examples as discreetly as possible. If the place really was abandoned, they'd have taken all their possessions of worth - but any sign the carnival was really still being lived in was useful information.

[JbeJ275]

Fearful of missing something hidden in a far off tent Barbara summons (1d4+15)[16] more of her Prying Eye constructs, sending them to sweep through each of the tents corners and alleyways in sequence, giving the group a far broader net in terms of scouted areas without sending a valuable scout into a trap. At the same time she casts Arcane Sight, Detect Thoughts, Mage Armour, Detect Secret Doors and Protection From Chaos on herself to ensure she was ready for any hostilities. Then she kept stalking towards the site of the prvious ritual.

Spoiler: Rolls

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The Prying Eyes have spot: (1d20+15)[18]
Listen on me : (1d20+19)[27]

[Molan]

The party surveilled the old carnival ground, stalked at all times by the creeping specter of dread that seemed to hang over the place. It wasn't just that they were looking for a potentially psychopathic rogue magi and his loyal cult in the fair that seemed to chill the ground they walked on. It was also the fact that, run down and abandon as it was, the carnival grounds carried a profound sense of wrongness about them. This was supposed to be a place of light and levity, but it looked like the grave of a dead civilization, one with macabre gods, haunted by the sylvan spirits that seemed to perpetually stalk South Channel Island.

Eventually, however, Oracle's efforts allowed her to identify the Big Top where she'd disrupted the cult meeting last time, and she lead the party in that general direction. Her eyes continued to report back almost nothing...stillness...silence. But the place wasn't completely silent. Over the sounds of frogs from a nearby pond or the buzzing of evening insects, she would occasionally hear what she almost thought was a voice or two...but could never quite place it.

However, as they got closer to the tent, two events helped narrow her search. The first, was that several prying eyes made it inside the Big Top, finding it mostly empty. The scaffolds she'd destroyed on her last trip hung in heaps and ruined piles behind the stage, which was itself partially destroyed by the collapse. The rest of the tent looked "fine" other than that it had been chaotically and messily abandoned.

The second thing, that caught her "eyes" though, was what looked like an actually permanent structure.

A great gaudy wooden hand-carved marquee announced the building; "Madame Sisselion's Miraculous Hall of the Macabre!" it seemed to almost yell, underneath which read a smaller posting, it's painted letters faded and cracked, "Enter a House of Fun, Weird and Mystery! Live Shows every Saturday and Sunday Night! Tours through the Hall of Mirrors, and the Mirage of the Seelie Gods!"

It appeared, by all accounts, to be a large, if run down theatre. Of course, given it's multiple entrances and random, unnecessary balconies and generally lunatic design, it may have also served other alternative functions besides just being a comedy house. The flowery, sing-songy and vague language mirrored that of a classic Fool's Production, one where the spectacle of a silly show outweighed any considerations for things like quality music, character acting or sense, all things that a Bards' Guild production would never have dared leave out. Sisselion was, Oracle could tell, an elven name, though the building looked as though it'd been designed by a gnome who did his best to upscale his designs to fit taller patrons and possibly had overcorrected. She could imagine inside of it a sort of funhouse museum of events, in addition to what she was sure she'd find in the center; a stage, and a bar, for the purposes of whatever ludicrous theatre the now long-defunct Fools' Guild had thought to put on all those years ago.

It was gloomy, and big enough to be worth skipping completely, in most respects. But she couldn't; she was sure that the vision she'd seen with her scrying spell had placed the cult leader and his clownish paramour inside a building, not a tent. They'd looked like they'd been in some kind of converted lounge or changing room, the kind of thing that would usually sit on the floor above the main theatre. This place was big and poorly lit enough that it would be incredibly dangerous to enter, especially if there were cultists waiting for them. Still, she was plenty enough prepared for any of that sort of chicanery. If there was any chance to unravel the mystery of the cult or, ideally, arrest it's leader, it would be in there.

The building's entrance was actually a grand almost operating opening, but it was nestled in the wide, gaping mouth of what looked like massive caricature of a grinning, manic clown. Or, perhaps it was meant to be an overly stylized image of the elven fey god Alobal Lorfiril. It was...unsettling to look at.

"Whelp." she sighed, whispering to her compatriots. I think I found the building we need to search. But you're not gonna like it."

Spoiler: OOC

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I can assume that you want to approach the building and gain entry, unless anyone votes otherwise and wants to finish searching the rest of the carnival or any specific areas of interest. If you want to enter you can march through the front door, or search for alternative entrances. Despite it's odd construction Oracle's best guess is the building is around 3 stories tall, sitting at the extreme north end of the carnival grounds.

[Feathersnow]

Well, you're right. I don't like it, says Kate, deadpan.

[Molan]

The party entered through the gaping mouth entryway, and into a sort of large, faux-grand foyer beyond; it was built aspirationally in the shape of a grand entryway to a more prestigious theatre, but it lacked any of the actual refinement or elegant finishings that such a building would usually enjoy -- and that was before it'd become run down. It was immediately obvious that at some point, the fools had been there. Pastel elven paint was splashed at odd intervals along the walls, sometimes glowing, sometimes flat, creating the images of wide toothy grins, or the words "HA HA HA!" written over and over again by different hands. The maudlin green, purple, orange and pink banners and tapestries were defaced and crumbling, and a bit of water dripped down where a poorly built skylight in the ceiling had once been.

There were doors leading left and right, as well as a larger one that looked as though it would lead straight into the well of the theatre. Stars swept left and right of that door, leading to a second level with yet more doors, and if one of the party members stood in the middle they could see that balcony swept to a THIRD staircase, this one approaching a level with only three exits.

[JbeJ275]

"Okay, this is ambush city." Sends Barbara through the mental link. "We need to scout this place out, Scion do you want to try your luck? Or I can send the eyes ahead, a little less stealthy, but we're risking far less if stealth fails."

[MrAbdiel]

"I'm on it. Let's try to keep our exit clear. If we need to back off suddenly, we can teleport and phase back outside; but I'd rather not be forced to such a messy retreat. Let me see what I can see, first..."

Scion takes a moment to down a potion, then begins to stealthy search, going by the numbers; keeping eyes and ears out for traps, starting with the left door; seeking to clear potential ambush vectors before they go far.

Spoiler: OOC:

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The old search-n-sweep. Order of operations is first floor first, starting left. So Left Door, Right Door; and if those don't pan out, we'll try up the stairs to the second floor, and those doors; penultimately the third floor. I figure we save the theatre interior for last, since that's the largest, most exposed room.

Damien drinks a potion of Longstrider. Walking around, he has his Rod of Ropes out with the Grapple Function available, and a free hand. He checks doors for traps first, but has a habit of trying to open them with Mage Hand first, since the Theives' Den.

[Molan]

Damien's sweep turns up fairly benign results, despite the menace in the room. Most of the doors are neither locked nor trapped, especially on the first floor, suggesting near-constant use for whoever the occupants were. The main door to the theatre is also not secured.

On the second floor, he found most of the doors to be un-openable, but again, didn't find anything in the way of traps. However, there were some disconcerting signs. He found what looked like rune sigils in some areas, and his training taught him that there were at least a couple of areas that, while no trap or magical triggers were present, some sort of artificial ley lines ran through the area, perhaps to/from another room. So the place wasn't completely defunct. Some of the doors on the second level simply would not open at all; it wasn't clear exactly what was keeping them shut, though he couldn't completely rule magic out. At least two of the locked doors were secured by oddly shaped key locks -- they seemed very strongly likely to be magic.

Finally, on the top floor, he went left to right, and discovered the following; the leftmost door was stuck utterly shut, and nothing he could do explained it's seal. The rightmost door was unsecured, leading deeper into the "funhouse". The third door, however, appeared to be very much trapped and warded, but he struggled to figure out exactly what the trap was or how the trigger functioned. Still, it stood out as being unique from all the others.

[MrAbdiel]

Damien slips back down the stairs to his comrades - no need to activate the gems, just yet.

"Third floor has the most dangerous door; trapped and sealed well and good. But the second floor has some kind of magical line-work I've never seen before. Not a trap - maybe part of a ritual, shuttling magic around the building for something? You'd better see it yourselves."

[Molan]

Oracle and Kate followed Damien up to where he'd found evidence of the artificial ley line. Her enchantments allowed her to see the room in a way that the other two couldn't; she could actually see an orangish glow of the magical energy the lines were directing coming from a spot under the main floor, through the floor where they stood and down a hallway behind a locked door, deeper into the fun house. But that wasn't all her enhancements showed her; in the same northernly direction as the lay line, the aura of which slowly faded as it passed farther out of her view, was what appeared to be a secret door, expertly crafted into the wall alongside some of the other exits. The door to the left of the secret wall area was one of the ones Damien had tried and failed to open, as if it was sealed shut. Or, she wondered, wasn't an actual door at all, but a fake.

"This theatre wasn't built by the cult," she observed as she detected a protruding piece of architecture which seemed to open the secret passage. "Why build it with a faux door?"

Oracle pulled the lever; neither she nor Damien had detected any traps in that area, further proof that -- assuming they were right -- this passage actually saw frequent enough use that trapping it was impractical. The wall slid away into the floor, revealing a long, unlit hallway, fading into darkness. The ley line's energies passed in that direction, but in a different room or a different hallway. She could follow it, but not closely.

"The persistent magic you detected is interesting. I'm beginning to suspect more and more that South Channel Island sits on a veritable font of arcane power. Not surprising really; Gotham has been rich with arcana for it's entire history, even it's pre-history. Still, this place is unique."

"Then why the arcane architecture? And what does it mean?"

"Well, the simplest answer is it means someone wanted to create some persistent or on-demand magical effect somewhere, without investing a significant portion of their own core energies for a permanency spell. More to the point, if you can tap into an actual ley line and contort the energies via a magical device, you can actually make arcane machinery much more complicated and functional than even most permanent spell effects. That's actually how the Arcane Rails work, and why their hub is in the Merchant's Guild Tower. Even though that building is mostly abandoned, save the hub, it was originally built on one of the ley nexuses in Gotham, and the Bards' machinery channels that power continuously to allow the trains to run."

"But this place was created by the original Fools' Guild, right? The one that started as upstarts and outcasts, before the Jester took over."

"Before the Bards ran them out of town, you mean."

"Sure. And then the Jester took over. What's the difference? How did these vagabond bards and performers build this, and why?"

"Why, I don't know. Answering that would require determining the device's function, and we'll need to see where that line ends to do that. 'How' is simpler; lots of bards and stunted arcanists can eventually learn to produce magical equipment. Artificers are of a similar breed. Actually makes a lot of sense if your own power is meagre to build devices that can do what you cannot."

"Question is then," said Damien, "Who wants to be first down the pitch black, hidden passage in the murder clowns' funhouse?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Tell me what you think! Use the secret passage or try another door? Try another way to track the artificial ley line or see if it's function is revealed later? What do you choose to do?

[JbeJ275]

"Having access to this could be the difference between getting the jump on them and getting jumped, I'll head in first. Scion, follow once I've scanned the area, Batwoman, bring up the rear and watch out for attacks from behind."

With that Oracle spun a Listening Lorecall around her, letting her see the hallway ahead of her through the echoes cast by her footsteps. Then she made her way forward slowly through the corridor. She left three of her prying eyes to watch at the entrance of the corridor and report back if they saw movement, then moved forward, laying the prying eyes at any branches to watch out for other movement.

[Molan]

The party followed the hallway down into the pitch dark. Through her magical eyesight, Oracle was able to continue to follow the artificial ley line through the other side of the wall; she stepped on something that *crunched* under her foot. Looking down, the spell in her eyes seemed to almost highlight what she'd stepped on with a golden halo, and she picked it up to see what it was. It appeared to be some kind of recruitment flyer; there were a lot of poorly drawn pastel letters, and some vague bromides disparaging the leadership of the city, with the words "HA HA HA" written at parts around the top and the bottom of the scroll. It sort of made sense, if you were clued in to the specific cultural inside speak of various Gotham slums, but it was sort of a sideways, oblong political joke that most rational citizens would have discarded out of hand. Looking down, she saw quite a few more of these recruitment scrolls discarded on the floor, but something about them disturbed her. On more than a few of them, she saw what looked like the crudely drawn image of a direbat, but none of the text on the scrolls seemed to directly discourage House Wayne or any other institutions still associated with that symbol. There were no direct references to the Dark Knight. She couldn't help but think of the bat like monster they'd been indirectly hunting since the Vaults, and wondered what it's significance could be.

Around one of the posters, a dire bat was perched on the Cathedral roof and eating the Black Tower of House James, and the only text on the scroll was "HA! HA! HA!", over and over and over again.

They moved further into the compound and found themselves in a strange room, three stories high, lined by what looked like animal cages. They were all empty, and closer inspection saw that the cages were affixed to the walls. Doors from other parts of the Fun House entered into some of the cages, and some of the cages were connected together so you could walk from one to another like a hallway. It took a while, but eventually they more or less deduced what they were looking at; it was sort of a reverse menagerie. Visitors to the funhouse could witness shows, more likely than not including mundane or magical animals, from the point of view of the circus animals, while the performers would be "outside" the cages, looking in. It was the sort of second rate artsy schtick one would expect from a second rate barding guild, but it gave the room a sinister air. There was a stairway at the other end, guarded by a large iron door. The door was in the open position, but something about it struck Oracle as concerning; the ley line had wrapped back around to this room, and ended in the form of an energy well, embedded in the wall above the door. She couldn't see whatever the magical device here was, but it was clearly still operational.

The stairs led up to what had to be an office or storage area near the very edge of the building -- they'd walked far enough to have reached it's northernmost extent. There was another open door, but it clearly opened into a largely empty barn-like area, underscoring the idea that animals had once been part of the act here.

Spoiler: OOC

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Okay, one last check for player action before we check out the office. Ask any questions you like!

[MrAbdiel]

In his snug gi with its black cloth folds and wraps ('pajamas', as Spoiler had called them), Scion follows Oracle's lead as she tracks the magical oddity of the place. He frowns at the arcana in use.

"...Without a surfeit of time to spend carefully studying that they have done, we can only proceed with caution. But we must be near the edge of the building. Maybe instead of going up these stairs and through the door, we loop around outside and make a breach entry by my zipline. A high window on whatever room that is, is much less likely to be trapped or guarded than the sole entry door."

[Molan]

The haggled over the approach for a while, but eventually, threw in the towel. None of the approaches would net them any more benefit, relative to other risks, than they already faced.

The party proceeded up the stairs. Oracle led, discovering magical trap partly the way up. It was made of a minor abjuration, but other than that she couldn't quite figure out it's fully nature, though she felt she could probably make a solid educated guess.

The problem was, whatever it was was actually powered by the internal arcana system in the building they'd discovered earlier, so it proved especially difficult to disarm, stumping first Oracle then Damien. It also appeared to be permanent, which made sense given everything else they'd seen.

Spoiler: OOC

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Magical trap disarm fail! Minor abjuration but an abnormally high disarm DC. What to do?

[MrAbdiel]

Damien shows off his limited understanding of the magics at play.

"Abjuration..? So it could be a simple as a Dispel or as inconvenient as a Prismatic Wall. But it's most like an Alarm, right? Can your senses tell how it is to be triggered, so we can get around it?"

[Molan]

Oracle inspected the trap for a while, but despite the potency of the arcana preventing it's dispelling, the actual abjuration itself was incredibly simple. The area immediately in front of them on the stares was warded; passing through the wards at all would trigger the trap. The power of the spell itself was cleverly disguised as graffiti on the wall, similar to a lot of the other inane pastel sylvan scrawls that decorated the old fun house. She was able to pick out the actual hidden runes fairly easily in the din, and they glowed golden orange in her enhanced sight the same way the ley lines did.

"It's just a simple warded area, tied to that writing on the wall. Pass into or through the area and it triggers."

Up ahead, she could see two doors at the top of the stairs, both left wide open. The left one doubled back into what she had to assume was the building's attic, the right one had to be an office near, if not at the edge of the building's outer circumference.

[JbeJ275]

"I can disable it, but only with a little help, and I can’t do it twice. Once the trap is down get ready to cross. We can’t spend too much more time in here."

With that Barbara recalled the gestures she’d perfected alongside Questor. The arcane magic spoofed a directive to access the acquired knowledge of the heavenly courts of Urbanus that should have required months of establishing a deep and personal relationship with the god. Yet it came to her just the same, and with these divine insights she swiftly began to unweave the trap.

Spoiler

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Taking ten for 49 on disable device.

[MrAbdiel]

"Right. If we have to come back through, we'll just make out own exit and circle around, if worst comes to worst."

Scion readies himself to help in any way he can; but also takes a moment to drink a potion of Longstrider, so he doesn't end up falling behind when they rush through!

[Molan]

With a small bit of help from Damien, Oracle was able to channel her divine and arcane expertise to circumvent the trap's overcharged energies and shut it off completely. It wouldn't last forever, but it was a clean break, and she could see the trap's aura energies fade before her eyes as the warded area faded.

They sprinted up the stairs, and could see that to the left was the Fun House's attic, filled predictably with what looked line a hoard of ancient set pieces and stage decorations, costumers, and mannequins. To the right was what looked like an office, but several "objects" inside the office immediately caught her eye. The party entered the office and took in it's contents.

There was a large circular window looking out at the fairgrounds, letting in only a faint amount of moonlight. On the right side of the office, a large number of scrolls were tacked to the wall; preserved Herald articles, each one containing a story about the Fools' Guild, showbills for upcoming events at the fairgrounds, long since past, a bunch more strange cultist graffiti, and what looked like were some pornographic drawing and pictures of hideous fiends.

On the left side was an old abandoned desk, with little left on it except molding parchments. However in the middle of the desk sat a strange object; it appeared to be a set of false teeth, attached to some kind of gnomish arcane contraption. The machinery and gears for the small, clockwork device attached to the top and bottom sets of the teeth, as well as to a simple lever switch. Scrawled on a small note, attached by string to the switch, were the words, "PRESS ME".

In the center of the room however, in what must have been the showrunner's chair that would have belonged to that desk, sat the unconscious form of a woman. Her head hung down towards her chest, white-blond hair falling to either side of her face, obscuring her features. She wore what looked like an elaborate, even eccentric and stylish outfit, the kind of thing a noble might wear to imitate an adventurer's garb; fine, form fitting leathers, tall boots, a stylish jacket. She was securely chained to the chair by a series of bonds and locks, and those bonds and locks seemed to attach to another strange, incomprehensible device, which itself had a chain coming out of it that descended from the back of the chair and into the floor. The chain descending into the hole in the floor was taunt, and couldn't be easily manipulated, though the party dared not pull on it too hard, not comprehending the device's function.

Spoiler: OOC

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Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand GO!

[Feathersnow]

[curse in celestial, which is basically saying something nice backwards]

I doubt I can just teleport her out without something awful happening. Scion, do you have any ideas?

[MrAbdiel]

"Reminds me of one of Nigma's games. I.. suspect pressing that button will either reveal the conditions of this 'game', or... possibly torture the captive in some way. But..."

He considers the state of the captive.

"...But without knowing what that chain is attached to below the floor, we run a risk. A demented might would make rescuing one captive the trigger to harm another. Otherwise, we can simply pick the lock on the bindings or break them. But it's this chain here that troubles me. What does it attach to? Is it a tension trigger for something else, below...?"

Damien examines the nebulous device more closely. The one on the bench, the teeth, was almost certainly some kind of magic mouth spell with a set of chattering teeth to 'speak' its content - that is, if it had any meaning to it at all, and wasn't just a bomb designed to kill the curious. But the other device, the one with the tension chain, was most troubling...

[Molan]

Examining the room, Oracle deployed another one of her enhanced senses -- this time, her blindsight -- to try to assess their trouble.

She tapped a few times on the floorboards below them. What she "saw" wasn't encouraging.

Spoiler: Oracle's Blindsight

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Barrels, at least two dozen of them, packing the area in the room below. The "room" was essentially dead space in the building behind the staircase they'd ascended to reach this office, and someone had pried open the side of the building to load it with this trap. The barrels appeared to have a feint magical aura, and with her Arcane Knowledge Oracle knew they were alchemical in nature -- the kind of explosive or otherwise dangerous substance one could loot from the Gotham Alchemists if one was determined enough. Triggers were rigged to the barrels, shoddy, mechanical things of an unknowable purpose (without actually looking at them -- was it a spark that they set off, or something else?) which were in turn connected to the chain descending through the floor.
'
Upsetting the locks tying the hostage would pull the triggers and unleash whatever was in the barrels.

"The space below is packed with barrels," Oracle said, sounding concerned. "The hostage's mouth is unbound, maybe we try to wake her up? Alternatively, that "mouth" device on the table is clearly not tied to the trap itself."

[MrAbdiel]

"Filled with magical or explosive powders or liquids, no doubt. So the chain that goes down probably can't be let slacken without setting them off. The other one around the prisoner... It's less clear. As for this..."

He looks to the teeth, and the switch inviting a press. Damien has never met the Jester - but he has studied him, with his father's guidance. It's possible that the button would just set off the bomb, killing them all; and that the teeth that seemed set up to be the vessel to deliver a mocking message or challenge would be a red herring. But then... That wasn't the villain's particularly sense of humor. He, or someone like him, would want to gloat.

He reaches to press the switch.