Cthulhu_Wakes
Black Sun in a White World
"Well, fuck me. They've called in the shikari." He gives Elegy a heavy look that screams 'let's go find Ayo soon, eh?'
[Mysterious Cities of Jade] Chapter 4: A Wyld Hunt appears!
- Thread starter Sarky
- Start date
Indeed, let us, says Elegy's replying glance. As to questions of Guild and State, Elegy is not much of an expert. She can, however, deduce this much. "We know from Kim's love of eavesdropping that at least one member of the Council is complicit in this matter, and that they have someone else behind them. This 'master.' There are obvious suspects , of course." The Deathlords. Any of them -- including Eye and Seven Despairs -- would love to make Chiaroscuro into a dead city; they hated little so much has half-finished jobs. "However, we cannot discount other possibilities; they are not the only ones who can 'master' the dead. Either way, this shadow-foe has done a masterful job of maximizing the number of suspects. We must tighten our focus."
Perhaps another Deathknight. In any case, it would be excellent if they could get to the bottom of this before the Wyldhunt arrived. Perhaps keep the number of known Anathema on the ship to a minimum, 'known' being the operative word.
Perhaps another Deathknight. In any case, it would be excellent if they could get to the bottom of this before the Wyldhunt arrived. Perhaps keep the number of known Anathema on the ship to a minimum, 'known' being the operative word.
Sarky
Drunken master
Kim offers you each a cup of delicately scented tea. Bonepicker clears his throat.
"Be that as it may, There is still a job to be done closer to home. Now, while Chiaroscuran law cares little for outsiders or their wrongdoings, crimes by nobles against family and clan are a serious matter indeed. The transaction I wish stopped involves such a crime. A young man named Jiro recently became a victim of Delzhan politics, wrongfully stripped of his assets and freedom. He is going to be traded to a spectre, a debased thing from the depths of the Labyrinth with a perverse appetite for the living, especially betrayed innocents."
He reopens the first book he took down, showing you a drawing of a horrific, withered creature, dessicated flesh stretched over a lanky, misshapen skeleton. Written beside it is "Herald of Nothingness". Esoteric looking figures and writings on the opposite page are recognisable to anyone fluent in Old Realm. Elegy recognises small maps of the Labyrinth, deliberately vague save for a few recognisable stable regions. It would appear Herald of Nothingness has managed to carve out a small kingdom within the Labyrinth, by no means a major player, but powerful enough to be a menace to the living.
"If the handing over of an innocent to a dead, insane monster is not distasteful enough to warrant interference, allow me to go into further detail. I won't go into the details of ancestor worship, I imagine one of you is already well-versed while the other would rather not know. Suffice to say, being dead has not stopped Jiro's ancestors from looking after him. When they discovered he was betrayed, they searched for him, haunting descendants and calling in favours. Two great-aunts of his were destroyed by the Herald's minions in the process of finding him. They dare not try again."
Bonepicker turns a couple of pages, and shows you a drawing of a horde of zombies, hungry ghosts in chains, driven by horrid things Elegy would recognise as mortwrights. Nasty pieces of work, if a little too single-minded on destruction to plan ahead.
"Their subservience to Oblivion has granted the Herald's minons considerable power against the dead. But against the living, or in your case, my lady, those somewhere between living and dead, their power would be greatly negated. Jiro's ancestors have pleaded with me to find someone capable of saving him, and it would seem Fate has decided to be kind."
He reopens the book near the back, displaying what looks to be a map of the old Chiaroscuran Undercity, and taps an area with a wrinkled index finder.
"There is a place down here, where the living rarely go, named the Thirteenth Warehouse. Such underground storage depots were common in the Old city. This one contains a little-known shadowland, around which mortals have laid a maze of salt lines over the years. It sometimes sees use as a meeting place between living and dead for arrangements that would not necessarily be approved by one or more powerful groups, living or dead. That is where Jiro is to be handed over to the Herald's agents, around midnight. My nephew will take you there. He knows the Undercity well, and can guide you past the more dangerous areas."
"Be that as it may, There is still a job to be done closer to home. Now, while Chiaroscuran law cares little for outsiders or their wrongdoings, crimes by nobles against family and clan are a serious matter indeed. The transaction I wish stopped involves such a crime. A young man named Jiro recently became a victim of Delzhan politics, wrongfully stripped of his assets and freedom. He is going to be traded to a spectre, a debased thing from the depths of the Labyrinth with a perverse appetite for the living, especially betrayed innocents."
He reopens the first book he took down, showing you a drawing of a horrific, withered creature, dessicated flesh stretched over a lanky, misshapen skeleton. Written beside it is "Herald of Nothingness". Esoteric looking figures and writings on the opposite page are recognisable to anyone fluent in Old Realm. Elegy recognises small maps of the Labyrinth, deliberately vague save for a few recognisable stable regions. It would appear Herald of Nothingness has managed to carve out a small kingdom within the Labyrinth, by no means a major player, but powerful enough to be a menace to the living.
"If the handing over of an innocent to a dead, insane monster is not distasteful enough to warrant interference, allow me to go into further detail. I won't go into the details of ancestor worship, I imagine one of you is already well-versed while the other would rather not know. Suffice to say, being dead has not stopped Jiro's ancestors from looking after him. When they discovered he was betrayed, they searched for him, haunting descendants and calling in favours. Two great-aunts of his were destroyed by the Herald's minions in the process of finding him. They dare not try again."
Bonepicker turns a couple of pages, and shows you a drawing of a horde of zombies, hungry ghosts in chains, driven by horrid things Elegy would recognise as mortwrights. Nasty pieces of work, if a little too single-minded on destruction to plan ahead.
"Their subservience to Oblivion has granted the Herald's minons considerable power against the dead. But against the living, or in your case, my lady, those somewhere between living and dead, their power would be greatly negated. Jiro's ancestors have pleaded with me to find someone capable of saving him, and it would seem Fate has decided to be kind."
He reopens the book near the back, displaying what looks to be a map of the old Chiaroscuran Undercity, and taps an area with a wrinkled index finder.
"There is a place down here, where the living rarely go, named the Thirteenth Warehouse. Such underground storage depots were common in the Old city. This one contains a little-known shadowland, around which mortals have laid a maze of salt lines over the years. It sometimes sees use as a meeting place between living and dead for arrangements that would not necessarily be approved by one or more powerful groups, living or dead. That is where Jiro is to be handed over to the Herald's agents, around midnight. My nephew will take you there. He knows the Undercity well, and can guide you past the more dangerous areas."
Cthulhu_Wakes
Black Sun in a White World
"Thirteen? Lucky numbers for happy tidings."
Dribbling his fingers across the Column's pommel, Shinji nods, idly rocking. "Okay, let's do it." A final stroke of Althos's neck and Shinji stands, looks to Elegy. "It will be quite the evening, it seems. And you,'--he turns to Kim--'our business is not done yet. But for now, on good faith I'm putting it off." A boulder of a fist--maybe a little held back on--slugs the kid right on the nose. "But my coin purse is still pissed. Now we're even." Rekindled mirth in his eyes, a pleased smile. "By all means, lead on!"
Smartly about-facing, Shinji bows, and says in perfect Old Realm (the benefits of a classical education), "I apologize for that outburst."
Dribbling his fingers across the Column's pommel, Shinji nods, idly rocking. "Okay, let's do it." A final stroke of Althos's neck and Shinji stands, looks to Elegy. "It will be quite the evening, it seems. And you,'--he turns to Kim--'our business is not done yet. But for now, on good faith I'm putting it off." A boulder of a fist--maybe a little held back on--slugs the kid right on the nose. "But my coin purse is still pissed. Now we're even." Rekindled mirth in his eyes, a pleased smile. "By all means, lead on!"
Smartly about-facing, Shinji bows, and says in perfect Old Realm (the benefits of a classical education), "I apologize for that outburst."
Sarky
Drunken master
Finally Bonepicker smiles and replies in kind: "Don't worry, the little shit had it coming."
He reaches into his sleeve and pulls out a large tissue for Kim, who has fallen on his arse, clutching a bloodied and quite possibly broken nose.
"There you go, my boy, that wasn't so terrible, was it?"
"By dose! He boke by fuggik dose!"
"Oh stop blubbing boy, and apply pressure here like so..."
"By cudded he hab baited?"
"Perhaps you should have considered that before stealing from them, hmm?"
"I didded dow you'd hab dem fuh tea!"
"Fate clearly has a sense of humour. Now be a good lad and shut up. You have a dangerous task to perform in a couple of hours. You should probably go see your Nana."
He turns to Elegy and Shinji. "I do not know where Jiro is being held at this moment, but perhaps his ancestors have heard something new since they came to me. I can direct you to them, if you would prefer to try and avoid a confrontation with both parties in the Thirteenth Warehouse. All I require is that the transaction be negated. It would be useful to find out who is attempting to sell him, but I do not require it explicitly. Whatever you decide, you have time to enjoy the Undercity, such as it is. I'll put the word about that you are my guests, which should dispel some antagonism..."
He reaches into his sleeve and pulls out a large tissue for Kim, who has fallen on his arse, clutching a bloodied and quite possibly broken nose.
"There you go, my boy, that wasn't so terrible, was it?"
"By dose! He boke by fuggik dose!"
"Oh stop blubbing boy, and apply pressure here like so..."
"By cudded he hab baited?"
"Perhaps you should have considered that before stealing from them, hmm?"
"I didded dow you'd hab dem fuh tea!"
"Fate clearly has a sense of humour. Now be a good lad and shut up. You have a dangerous task to perform in a couple of hours. You should probably go see your Nana."
He turns to Elegy and Shinji. "I do not know where Jiro is being held at this moment, but perhaps his ancestors have heard something new since they came to me. I can direct you to them, if you would prefer to try and avoid a confrontation with both parties in the Thirteenth Warehouse. All I require is that the transaction be negated. It would be useful to find out who is attempting to sell him, but I do not require it explicitly. Whatever you decide, you have time to enjoy the Undercity, such as it is. I'll put the word about that you are my guests, which should dispel some antagonism..."
Cthulhu_Wakes
Black Sun in a White World
"An excellent accord we've struck," Shinji says, all too amused about Kim's 'Nana'. He can picture it clear as Mela's skies.
'Did my widdle boy get his nosey-wosey hurt? Someone want his binky?'
'...Yes, Nana.'
"Heh, nosey-wosey. Ahem. Anyhow. What say you, Elegy?"
'Did my widdle boy get his nosey-wosey hurt? Someone want his binky?'
'...Yes, Nana.'
"Heh, nosey-wosey. Ahem. Anyhow. What say you, Elegy?"
"A grand deal indeed, and a chance to do good by the citizens of the city. It's vital to build bridges, don't you agree?"
This adventure had turned out to be most excellent. Although she had winced when Bonepicker described her as 'between life and death,' something Shinji must pick up on -- simply must. He is too savvy not to have heard the term. Would he presume her ghost-blooded or would his suspicions run deeper?
She had lost so many friends in her life. Elegy did not want him to join those who had turned on her forever.
In either case, she must try to recall anything she could about this... 'Herald.' Elegy had no shortage of acquaintances in the Underworld, some more friendly than others. Perhaps she had some knowledge of this being too...? Certainly, such a transaction cannot stand, even if it entails a Sin of Death.
Fah. Suffering to the Neverborn. If she must scarify herself to prevent their ire from spreading to the world, she would do it.
This adventure had turned out to be most excellent. Although she had winced when Bonepicker described her as 'between life and death,' something Shinji must pick up on -- simply must. He is too savvy not to have heard the term. Would he presume her ghost-blooded or would his suspicions run deeper?
She had lost so many friends in her life. Elegy did not want him to join those who had turned on her forever.
In either case, she must try to recall anything she could about this... 'Herald.' Elegy had no shortage of acquaintances in the Underworld, some more friendly than others. Perhaps she had some knowledge of this being too...? Certainly, such a transaction cannot stand, even if it entails a Sin of Death.
Fah. Suffering to the Neverborn. If she must scarify herself to prevent their ire from spreading to the world, she would do it.
Cthulhu_Wakes
Black Sun in a White World
"I can't say much, I'm better at being the bridgeblower than builder." Significant look. "Now, let's be off and not interrupt Bonepicker's studies. We shall endeavor to set this little matter aright."
Shinji steps out, testing the straps on his coat, fiddling with his hearthstone--so often forgotten--nestled in the mount on the Column. Lady Death, between life and death. So that means ghost-blood, godling or...ugh.
"This is going to be one those talks, isn't it?" He mumbles to himself, sighing. "Why must it always end in heresy?"
Shinji steps out, testing the straps on his coat, fiddling with his hearthstone--so often forgotten--nestled in the mount on the Column. Lady Death, between life and death. So that means ghost-blood, godling or...ugh.
"This is going to be one those talks, isn't it?" He mumbles to himself, sighing. "Why must it always end in heresy?"
Cthulhu_Wakes
Black Sun in a White World
"Enough. I read rather much, you know. People tend to forget that. I'm no expert on the occult, but I pay attention to history, especially recent history. And to be perfectly honest, until you start lusting after my bones to use in the next Juggernaut, I don't really care what you are. I'm allowed to be wary and I'm wary by nature. You know my history well enough to understand that, yes?"
Cthulhu_Wakes
Black Sun in a White World
"Then we have an accord!" Shinji says, laughs, tromping down the way back to the main thoroughfares. "We must find this gent soon!"
Sarky
Drunken master
The word of Bonepicker carries weight and travels surprisingly fast, it would seem; You still get people giving you suspicious looks, but more often than not someone puts a hand on their shoulder and whispers some calming word or other in their ear, and nothing comes of it. Most people give you a wide berth, but they're doing the same to everyone. The Undercity does not look like a place for trust to flourish, the majority of the inhabitants are either too poor to afford to live on the surface, or else they have good reasons to be hiding away from the city's law enforcers.
Apart from the feeling that you should constantly watch your back, it's not so bad down here: Sure, it's cramped and a little sweaty, but there is much to interest a body, from the excellent pre-Shogunate stonework of the old tunnels to the market stalls that would be less welcome in broad daylight, some selling charms and wards to deal with the dead in a far friendlier manner than the Immaculates, some selling what they claim are potent aphrodisiacs. Some tunnels are quite noticeably "sealed off" with a conspicuous line of salt in front of them, but signposts still indicate that there are things to see down there, and it certainly doesn't stop people from wandering down the dimly lit corridors, usually with prayer strips or bowls of fruit, water or money. Water is surprisingly common as an offering. It would seem even the dead can get thirsty.
After maybe half an hour of wandering, you're approached hurriedly by the young man Kim, now sporting some nice stitches across his nose, with surprisingly little swelling. He introduces himself more politely this time with a bow.
"Sorry to interrupt, but there were sudden developments. Jiro's family just visited my uncle, they say the exchange has been moved forward. Uncle said I am to lead you to the spot as soon as possible. He also said to give you these, they'll help ward off... things."
He holds out a pair of necklaces. Threaded through them appears to be a large salt crystal with a little bone buried inside it.
Apart from the feeling that you should constantly watch your back, it's not so bad down here: Sure, it's cramped and a little sweaty, but there is much to interest a body, from the excellent pre-Shogunate stonework of the old tunnels to the market stalls that would be less welcome in broad daylight, some selling charms and wards to deal with the dead in a far friendlier manner than the Immaculates, some selling what they claim are potent aphrodisiacs. Some tunnels are quite noticeably "sealed off" with a conspicuous line of salt in front of them, but signposts still indicate that there are things to see down there, and it certainly doesn't stop people from wandering down the dimly lit corridors, usually with prayer strips or bowls of fruit, water or money. Water is surprisingly common as an offering. It would seem even the dead can get thirsty.
After maybe half an hour of wandering, you're approached hurriedly by the young man Kim, now sporting some nice stitches across his nose, with surprisingly little swelling. He introduces himself more politely this time with a bow.
"Sorry to interrupt, but there were sudden developments. Jiro's family just visited my uncle, they say the exchange has been moved forward. Uncle said I am to lead you to the spot as soon as possible. He also said to give you these, they'll help ward off... things."
He holds out a pair of necklaces. Threaded through them appears to be a large salt crystal with a little bone buried inside it.
Cthulhu_Wakes
Black Sun in a White World
Heh. Though a pang of regret pops up in Shinji's soul, he stamps it down with justifications.
"Hmm, that would do it..." Shinji gingerly accepts it for the boy, weighs it in his hand. "New on me." He slips it over his head, while glancing at Elegy. "What made them move the deal up?" Something is wrong, he mused, something he's missing.
"Hmm, that would do it..." Shinji gingerly accepts it for the boy, weighs it in his hand. "New on me." He slips it over his head, while glancing at Elegy. "What made them move the deal up?" Something is wrong, he mused, something he's missing.
Sarky
Drunken master
"Uncle says Jiro's family got careless and gave it away that they were trying to interfere. If there were other factors, he didn't share them with me. The meeting place is this way..."
He slips through the people and heads down one of the corridors marked with salt. "The salt is just a warning that a shadowland can be found down this way. The actual borders are further in, and more carefully warded. Ancestor worship is a valid religion, but that doesn't mean we let any old ghost wander around to cause trouble."
Kim seems to be in his element here: He's a talented sneak, and he picks his position with care, displaying that there's far more to not being seen than sticking to the shadows. Away from the population, the tunnels get a little smaller, so that 5 men could walk down them. Torches in hacked out alcoves eventually give way to the soft glow of glass orbs infused with essence; The living will only go so far to scavenge.
After an hour of jogging, Kim holds up his hand to call for a halt. He whispers you over.
"The Thirteenth Warehouse is about a hundred yards ahead and to the right. If we're lucky the two groups haven't arrived yet. When you round the corner you'll see to big double doors, probably closed. Around the left of the building is a series of ladders and walkways. There is one main floor, but five levels of walkway around the inside walls, so if they're not guarded we should be able to hide up there easily enough. I'll do a quick scout of the area, I'll be back in five minutes. If you need to prepare, now is the time to do it."
With that, he pads off silently into the darkness.
He slips through the people and heads down one of the corridors marked with salt. "The salt is just a warning that a shadowland can be found down this way. The actual borders are further in, and more carefully warded. Ancestor worship is a valid religion, but that doesn't mean we let any old ghost wander around to cause trouble."
Kim seems to be in his element here: He's a talented sneak, and he picks his position with care, displaying that there's far more to not being seen than sticking to the shadows. Away from the population, the tunnels get a little smaller, so that 5 men could walk down them. Torches in hacked out alcoves eventually give way to the soft glow of glass orbs infused with essence; The living will only go so far to scavenge.
After an hour of jogging, Kim holds up his hand to call for a halt. He whispers you over.
"The Thirteenth Warehouse is about a hundred yards ahead and to the right. If we're lucky the two groups haven't arrived yet. When you round the corner you'll see to big double doors, probably closed. Around the left of the building is a series of ladders and walkways. There is one main floor, but five levels of walkway around the inside walls, so if they're not guarded we should be able to hide up there easily enough. I'll do a quick scout of the area, I'll be back in five minutes. If you need to prepare, now is the time to do it."
With that, he pads off silently into the darkness.
Elegy slips the charm over her neck without a moment's hesitation. Perhaps Bonepicker will consider this a gift for their hard work... she would ever so like to study them! Either way, as they lead on her apprehension grows. This could filter back to the Deathlords; not that they did not already hate her guts, but they would be even more annoyed if she subverted a plan to turn Chiarascuro into a wasteland. And that might brook retaliation...
...she clutched the ward under her neck. She must work faster.
...she clutched the ward under her neck. She must work faster.
Sarky
Drunken master
Elegy:
For a moment the charm makes you feel uneasy. Most likely your Exaltation doesn't particularly like it, which is probably a good sign.
Both of you:
Kim returns after a while, his face perturbed.
"There's a group in there all right. Jiro isn't there, so they must be the Herald's people. They... Look, I'm no stranger to the friendly dead, but whatever's in there is... They scare me. You can feel such a chill from them. Uh, anyway. There are guards, but they're not very bright, probably just reanimated bodies for the look of the thing. Getting in shouldn't be hard, even if you're not a sneak. I'll show you the best way in up top. Honestly, I don't know if I'll be much use in a fight, but I'll do what I can if it comes to that. Are you ready?"
For a moment the charm makes you feel uneasy. Most likely your Exaltation doesn't particularly like it, which is probably a good sign.
Both of you:
Kim returns after a while, his face perturbed.
"There's a group in there all right. Jiro isn't there, so they must be the Herald's people. They... Look, I'm no stranger to the friendly dead, but whatever's in there is... They scare me. You can feel such a chill from them. Uh, anyway. There are guards, but they're not very bright, probably just reanimated bodies for the look of the thing. Getting in shouldn't be hard, even if you're not a sneak. I'll show you the best way in up top. Honestly, I don't know if I'll be much use in a fight, but I'll do what I can if it comes to that. Are you ready?"
Cthulhu_Wakes
Black Sun in a White World
Shinji made sure the Column was secure to his belt, knelt and ground grit between his palms. Rose up and nods to himself.
"Let's go."
"Let's go."
Sarky
Drunken master
Elegy, Shinji:
Kim's descriptions are accurate, a massive dark slab of a building stands around the corner, dim torchlight flickering through the sparse, high windows. Around the side, the ladders are down and easily climbed. At the top, by a fire escape door, lies an old skeleton, bones held together by rotting leather straps in a sort of mock musculature, a nasty looking cleaver tied into its hand. You can smell essence off it, but fading; Kim moves the skull and plucks a well-maintained knife out of the back of its head, adding it to a belt containing identical blades. He makes to pull open the door, but pauses at the last second, inspecting the hinges.
"Shit" he whispers, "they dried up already. Hang on..."
He produces a small jar of oil from a belt pouch, dips in a rag and slaps it gently across the hinges, letting the oil soak in to the rusty hinges. After what feels like two or three minutes, he seems satisfied and tentatively tries the door- Which opens soundlessly. You can see Kim's shoulders fall with a silent sigh of relief. He beckons you on, and slips in himself.
Inside the Thirteenth Warehouse is cold. You find your breath fogging as soon as you enter. You can clearly feel the chill emanate from the centre of the building, where stands a large stone burial marker, glittering with frost. To those who can read obscure dialects of Old Realm, it is a mass grave memorial dating from the half-destruction of Chiaroscuro. Something about the "Loyalist Fallen". You'd have to get closer to make out the detail.
Around the stone lies a large circle of salt, with an intricate maze of knee-high salt bricks set inside. It would give most undead spirits a great deal of trouble getting out from the centre, allowing a certain levelling of the playing field when the living came to deal with them here. Also clustered around the stone is a small group of twisted figures, some lanky and stick thin, others squat and bloated as if from some kind of wasting disease. All make your skin crawl, but especially the one that looks like the leader: A grinning, dessicated corpse with blue fire for eyeballs and inhuman fangs capped with dark, glittering metal. It wears patchwork soulsteel plate, which catches the dim light from the torches and reflects silently screaming faces and writhing bodies, and a savagely hooked and barbed daiklave that glistens wetly is strapped across its back. The charm around your neck suddenly feels warm as you look at the nephwrack.
Kim's descriptions are accurate, a massive dark slab of a building stands around the corner, dim torchlight flickering through the sparse, high windows. Around the side, the ladders are down and easily climbed. At the top, by a fire escape door, lies an old skeleton, bones held together by rotting leather straps in a sort of mock musculature, a nasty looking cleaver tied into its hand. You can smell essence off it, but fading; Kim moves the skull and plucks a well-maintained knife out of the back of its head, adding it to a belt containing identical blades. He makes to pull open the door, but pauses at the last second, inspecting the hinges.
"Shit" he whispers, "they dried up already. Hang on..."
He produces a small jar of oil from a belt pouch, dips in a rag and slaps it gently across the hinges, letting the oil soak in to the rusty hinges. After what feels like two or three minutes, he seems satisfied and tentatively tries the door- Which opens soundlessly. You can see Kim's shoulders fall with a silent sigh of relief. He beckons you on, and slips in himself.
Inside the Thirteenth Warehouse is cold. You find your breath fogging as soon as you enter. You can clearly feel the chill emanate from the centre of the building, where stands a large stone burial marker, glittering with frost. To those who can read obscure dialects of Old Realm, it is a mass grave memorial dating from the half-destruction of Chiaroscuro. Something about the "Loyalist Fallen". You'd have to get closer to make out the detail.
Around the stone lies a large circle of salt, with an intricate maze of knee-high salt bricks set inside. It would give most undead spirits a great deal of trouble getting out from the centre, allowing a certain levelling of the playing field when the living came to deal with them here. Also clustered around the stone is a small group of twisted figures, some lanky and stick thin, others squat and bloated as if from some kind of wasting disease. All make your skin crawl, but especially the one that looks like the leader: A grinning, dessicated corpse with blue fire for eyeballs and inhuman fangs capped with dark, glittering metal. It wears patchwork soulsteel plate, which catches the dim light from the torches and reflects silently screaming faces and writhing bodies, and a savagely hooked and barbed daiklave that glistens wetly is strapped across its back. The charm around your neck suddenly feels warm as you look at the nephwrack.
As long as you don't fail a Dexterity+Stealth roll, you've entered unnoticed. Kim's gonna spend a WP for automatic success.
You can also make an Intelligence+Occult roll to determine that the charm necklace is protecting you from a fear effect the nephwrack is exuding. No valour rolls required as long as it's worn.
You can also make an Intelligence+Occult roll to determine that the charm necklace is protecting you from a fear effect the nephwrack is exuding. No valour rolls required as long as it's worn.
Cthulhu_Wakes
Black Sun in a White World
Yeah. In retrospect, I knew today would be a terrible day.
Bugger. Shinji pinched the charm, running forefinger and thumb over, mouthing a prayer to the Five. Blessings to Pasiap and the multitudes of salt gods for their earthen gift. The stone was interesting, but it'll be even moreso when a small undead group of legbreakers, movers, and shakers weren't standing round it. Time for a little faith in Kim and faith in his own abilities to hit things very hard with the Column. He unpins it from his belt, looks back at Elegy. Makes room to let her in.
Quiet as a ghost himself. He smiles, not fucking things up for once could have a surprising effect on his mood.
Bugger. Shinji pinched the charm, running forefinger and thumb over, mouthing a prayer to the Five. Blessings to Pasiap and the multitudes of salt gods for their earthen gift. The stone was interesting, but it'll be even moreso when a small undead group of legbreakers, movers, and shakers weren't standing round it. Time for a little faith in Kim and faith in his own abilities to hit things very hard with the Column. He unpins it from his belt, looks back at Elegy. Makes room to let her in.
Quiet as a ghost himself. He smiles, not fucking things up for once could have a surprising effect on his mood.
I too shall spend a Willpower on the Stealth. Three!
Sarky
Drunken master
Quiet as the proverbial grave, you sneak in. Something begins to unfold on the ground below.
One of the gangly creatures paces restlessly, growling in frustration, before turning to the leader.
"They should be here now. We should have just destroyed them all like I-"
He is floored by a lightning fast backhand from a mailed fist. The leader turns its withering blue gaze upon the fallen minion.
"And then what? Hmm? You tell the Lady that the soul she desired is forever lost to her? Shall you take his place? There are punishments she could mete out that would make you beg for the agonies of life again. Do you remember what that was like? I can show you if you wish..."
"N-no, master, please, I spoke in haste. I only wish to serve the Void."
"As do we all. Now be silent. They WILL come. They have no other choice."
There is a knocking on the main doors as latches are unhooked.
"And here they are. Trust in the Void, my children, Nothing is all that is needed."
A group of ten humans enters, carrying a prisoner in shackles with a sack over his head. They stop outside the ring of salt and pull the sack from their captive's head. The nephwrack is first to speak.
"Jiro Nakamura, I presume. You have irritated something very powerful, or you would simply have been killed already."
One of Jiro's captors speaks up. "Herald. We had an agreement. Where's our payment?"
"But of course."
The Herald gestures, and the main doors swing shut. A dizzying blur of motion, and suddenly the Herald's minions are surrounding the small party, while the Herald himself is right in front of the leader, his chin held very firmly in one hand, stroking his face gently with the claws of the other.
"These bricks are no longer made of salt, you see. Over the months I have had them replaced with chalk replicas. Nobody ever checks closely enough to tell the difference, but oh, the dead can tell my friend. The dead can tell. And now, your payment."
He begins squeezing, lifting the man bodily off the ground with one hand.
"The greatest treasure you will ever know is to be released from the burden of life. No more suffering, no more pain, just the sweet, silent call of Oblivion... Eventually. Kill them all, children. Slowly." He flicks his wrist sharply and breaks the man's neck, tossing him to the ground, still alive and screaming, but unable to move.
The more present-minded guards turn their weapons on themselves. Some even manage to kill themselves before the Herald's monstrosities pluck the weapons from their hands and slowly begin enjoying the suffering of frail, brittle-boned mortals.
One of the gangly creatures paces restlessly, growling in frustration, before turning to the leader.
"They should be here now. We should have just destroyed them all like I-"
He is floored by a lightning fast backhand from a mailed fist. The leader turns its withering blue gaze upon the fallen minion.
"And then what? Hmm? You tell the Lady that the soul she desired is forever lost to her? Shall you take his place? There are punishments she could mete out that would make you beg for the agonies of life again. Do you remember what that was like? I can show you if you wish..."
"N-no, master, please, I spoke in haste. I only wish to serve the Void."
"As do we all. Now be silent. They WILL come. They have no other choice."
There is a knocking on the main doors as latches are unhooked.
"And here they are. Trust in the Void, my children, Nothing is all that is needed."
A group of ten humans enters, carrying a prisoner in shackles with a sack over his head. They stop outside the ring of salt and pull the sack from their captive's head. The nephwrack is first to speak.
"Jiro Nakamura, I presume. You have irritated something very powerful, or you would simply have been killed already."
One of Jiro's captors speaks up. "Herald. We had an agreement. Where's our payment?"
"But of course."
The Herald gestures, and the main doors swing shut. A dizzying blur of motion, and suddenly the Herald's minions are surrounding the small party, while the Herald himself is right in front of the leader, his chin held very firmly in one hand, stroking his face gently with the claws of the other.
"These bricks are no longer made of salt, you see. Over the months I have had them replaced with chalk replicas. Nobody ever checks closely enough to tell the difference, but oh, the dead can tell my friend. The dead can tell. And now, your payment."
He begins squeezing, lifting the man bodily off the ground with one hand.
"The greatest treasure you will ever know is to be released from the burden of life. No more suffering, no more pain, just the sweet, silent call of Oblivion... Eventually. Kill them all, children. Slowly." He flicks his wrist sharply and breaks the man's neck, tossing him to the ground, still alive and screaming, but unable to move.
The more present-minded guards turn their weapons on themselves. Some even manage to kill themselves before the Herald's monstrosities pluck the weapons from their hands and slowly begin enjoying the suffering of frail, brittle-boned mortals.
Hmm. A plan of action. Elegy contemplates her scalpels. Like any self-respecting necromancer, she always carries some salt on hand; and, with her own superior ingenuity, she has prepared her weapons for just such an occasion. Gently, she rubs the sticky salt onto the blades of her knives. Now, as to the question of attacking... she glances at Shinji -- a silent What now?
