The Maid
Adelaide merely shook her head and sighed at the idea of so many foolish people wasting their time with something as dumb as cults. Some people really had nothing better to do.
If I'm sure of something it's that I'm not sure of anything.
Until further notice
The moment Daren took the book out from his backpack, Al-Qina's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, just knowing that the half-elf would probably try to read it. Who knew what new nightmares would be released by his foolhardiness?
...Of course, nobody noticed. Such things tended to happen when one wore full-face masks.
Instead, to his growing horror, everyone else craned over for a look as Daren placed the book onto the table and flipped the cover open-
Int check: ...18. Evidently, Daren learns best through getting his ass kicked. Somehow.
The Last Confession of Emen M. Dray, High Cleric of Neruok
The opening page was written in a shaky scrawl, in - as would soon be apparent - a different hand from the author of the journal.
Dray is dead. In accordance with his wishes - and against our better judgement - we have interred him in our sanctum with his final testimony. Had we not spent so much gold on the fresco and the stupid !@#$ing sarcophagus and instead settled on a simple cremation, we would have been able to set up more traps, but clearly the High Priest of Neruok deserved something a little more elaborate, the incompetent little !@#$.
With him, we bury the hopes of Neruok reborn - and the White Hand's deepest shame. They must never see the light of day.
Please await part 2.
edited 29th Sep '16 9:51:18 AM by Pyrite
Not a substitute for a formal medical consultation.
Vondal read intently.
To spare you having to make a double-post for part 2....
Until further notice
Captain Fennis's Report to the Xanthran National Guard headquarters
I have included the relevant excerpts from the purported "Last Confession of Dray" in my report to Her Highness and the National Guard, as requested. The actual document - which proved to not be an eldritch tome of world-ending destruction, as previously feared - will be submitted once we can establish a safe route of delivery.
I do not want the world to see me, for I think that they will not understand. But I write these words so that, in a world where everything is broken, someone will know who I am.
We may have misheard that part.
He merely fiddled with his bone chimes - a strange trinket that never left his side - and smiled.
And then the fateful day came. We created the largest magical circle that Xanthra had ever seen and ever would see - a giant ring of salt, charcoal and chalk around a tower of arcane power, and Neruok was at the top of it with the ritual infant in hand, ready to sacrifice it in commencement of the invocation.
And then the thrice-damned tower exploded.
That day, we learned that saltpetre is not salt.
It was at that moment, I knew I !@#$ed up.
And as he lay dying, he pulled me over with faltering hands, begging me to hear his last words as blood oozed from his mouth.
"I should've stayed a bard."
But our numbers kept dwindling - whether it was from fighting with the inbred, unwashed local gangs, or illness from hiding in the depths of the catacombs, or simply from despair. As I write this, I myself feel my impending passing from the flux... which is fitting, for my life has gone to complete bloody shit.
The truth may die with me. But though Neruok is dead, his legend - the show - must go on. Perhaps in doing so, he will finally obtain the immortality he sought.
edited 1st Oct '16 4:55:40 PM by Pyrite
Not a substitute for a formal medical consultation.
The Maid
At the reveal of the secret of the White Hand, the cult of Neruok and the pursuit of necromantic supremacy, Adelaide couldn't help but to give the most incredulous frown that could be at the record of the man's past... before she throws her hands off to the sides, lets out a powerful groan and then begins hitting her head against the wall.
If I'm sure of something it's that I'm not sure of anything.
"I'd like to borrow that wall when you're done with it," Vondal said to Adelaide.
Until further notice
"That makes three of us," Al-Qina added psychically. "If this document is true - and given the ludicrous claims within, I have serious doubts - my employers will be most disappointed. Captain, I would have that journal for further inspection-"
"Denied." The dragonborn's sheepish glare was enough to instantly silence - technically speaking - the masked man. "If this account is true, it might just be the key to breaking the back of the Cult of the White Hand for good. Any further analysis of this article will be performed at the empress's leisure... once she stops laughing, I imagine."
He coughed and looked over at Daren. "If you would surrender that book to us, the city of Golimar will compensate you as far as our resources will allow - but Her Majesty's coffers are far deeper, if you require any further incentive."
"Refuse him, and give me the book once we leave Golimar." Al-Qina silently projects - and from Fennis's lack of response, it was clear that this was a private psychic message. "My employers, the Poncebottoms, are also rich. And while they may not be able to match what the Empire of Xanthra can potentially offer, you can be assured of payment - and much sooner."
edited 2nd Oct '16 3:36:38 AM by Pyrite
Not a substitute for a formal medical consultation.
Will, The Urban Dash, Lazy Runner, RPG fool
Daren was so shocked at the statements of the book he was just silent and unmoved, with a pokerface staring into oblivion. His seconds of silence were that rare. Finally Al Qina snapped him out of that.
"Ok, you guys stay put!" he yelled, hugging the closed book against his chest. "There could be secret messages here, cryptic language, or even proof that connects them to the guys chasing me."
He walked to the nearest source of light and took a deep breath.
"I DID NOT come to Golimar, drink my ass off, wake up to a dead innkeeper, an accusation of murder (and a hangover), escorted a drunkard, got roughed up by bullettes-"
he stopped to breathe.
"Came to my senses in a sadic whore-priestess's playroom, fought my way to the worst part of GOLIMAR on her errand, took 'creepy mask' here back with me, burned the forementioned bullette to a crisp, almost burned the other half of the city tresspassing a crime scene-,"
Another pause for air.
"faced the sewers, killed a necromancer wannabe punk and his oddly named aberrations, had to deal with explosive traps and finally almost torched the city again burning a mummy in it's tomb so that-"
The half elf really seemed exhausted. He had been trough literal hell.
"So that the paladin and the warlock get to"...air..."ARGUE OVER LOOT! C'mon guys, I don't even like neither of you. Ade and Vondal, we as party, choose now. Either us three should keep it, a property of the Golimar Blazes, and whoever examines it solves the trades with us, or the cleansing fires shall have it!" Daren says, extending his arms and the book above the nearest source of fire.
"And for the record of that someone that always writes everything said in offices like this, our party is still working out its name."
edited 3rd Oct '16 12:24:21 PM by Kyef
I am merely an agent of 'random'. Because you know, the order is only inside our minds. Out here, there is only Chaos.
"That book ought to be safely locked up where it can do no harm," Vondal said. "As far as I'm concerned the Order of Serena would be most capable of tending to it."
The Maid
"I'd say give it to the Golimar if they want to end the farce that is this cult of depressed, darkness craving, skeleton loving idiots. It is their city and apparently they've had enough trouble with people joining them already... but sincerely, I think the truth has already been revealed... who gets the book in the end to make it public is barely worthy of much thought" says Adelaide, shrugging her shoulders a bit, though she does express her preference. She likes Alquina, but the city has dibs in her mind.
If I'm sure of something it's that I'm not sure of anything.
Will, The Urban Dash, Lazy Runner, RPG fool
Daren pulled the book away to him again, and sighed.
"Man, all options seems so shitty. Vondal, you're really the one priest I trust, not a big fan of this with a group of people like her Creepiness Hanira. And I don't want this book to give Golimar even more trouble."
His eyes glint suddenly and a big grin is revealed.
"Oh, here's a thought. Let's ensemble a task force to deliver this personally to the Palace. Everyone wins, and you can inspect and copy the book as you please, Al Qina, with people to back you up should any evil be released, as long as you ask for acess to secret files. There will be people looking at you, but you won't be prosecuted at least. I get paid on the spot, Captain gets research from royal scholars, and Serena and Ade's Lord will be much pleased, such proud!"
I am merely an agent of 'random'. Because you know, the order is only inside our minds. Out here, there is only Chaos.
Until further notice
Persuasion check: 1d20+5 = 24. A most fitting way to end things, for sure.
Fennis's eyes narrowed the moment Daren mentioned Al-Qina and loot, and would have arisen to confront the warlock immediately - but was immediately sidetracked when the half-elf threatened to, predictably, set the book on fire. Had it not been for his immediate suggestion of a far better plan, the guard captain would've been laying out smitings with great prejudice all around.
Fortunately for all those involved...
"...I must be going insane. That's the first sensible thing I've heard from you, lad." Fennis grudgingly admitted. "What do the rest of you think?"
"Meh. Anything to get out of this dump," Miron grumbled, feigning disinterest in the tome even as he surreptitiously attempted to sneak a peek at more of its contents.
"I'm with Ade and Daren," Ander piped up, taking their side with enthusiasm... although the rest of his ostensible travelling companions tempered it somewhat. "Hope you weren't thinking of leaving me here."
Vella shuffled over to Daren's side as well, taking his hand. "Sounds like fun, and I can't wait to get back on the road again! Looks like you're outnumbered, masked man - what're you going to do about it?"
The warlock looked on each person in the room in turn, his mask an emotionless blank slate. But the others didn't need to see his face to know that the outmanoeuvred Al-Qina was sizing up his remaining options... and finding all of them wanting. "Very well, then. It looks like the Poncebottoms are going to have to be satisfied - for now - with the prodigal's head, his uncle's notes... and notice of my untimely detour to the capital."
Much haggling later...
"Right, it's settled then." Captain Fennis set his pen down on the newly-drafted contract and rose from the table, drawing his sword with a flourish and making the holy sign of the Horns of Bahamut before all those assembled. "By the authority vested in me as Captain of the Guard, by my oath to the Father of Dragons, and against my better judgment, the Golimar Blazes are hereby hired to deliver Dray's journal to the capital. I charge you to go in speed, in safety, and with minimal damage to persons and property..."
He paused while flashbacks of headless halflings, burning buildings, street fights and mountains of skulls ran screaming through his head, instantly regretting his life choices.
"...failing which, two out of three ain't bad."
FIN
edited 6th Oct '16 9:03:02 AM by Pyrite
Not a substitute for a formal medical consultation.
Daren cleared his throat, loudly.
"And what do you guys make of this tome? I've been waiting to get to safety so we could have a look."
He stretched the book into view.
Check to analyse the book and tell it's properties or contents as best as I can
I am merely an agent of 'random'. Because you know, the order is only inside our minds. Out here, there is only Chaos.