** Part I: Fire and Ash **

[spike]

**Part I: Fire and Ash**

Idrys Stormcrow's intro -

The blood spoke. It told of a story untold, its hot smokey scent conveyed many images that threatened to engulf, consume, and pull you into a sea of crimson oblivion.

AS YOU WENT INTO A DEEP COMA, you dreamed of children running through the forest hunted like animals by black clad soldiers, you saw a woman in white and many men with noble features and black hearts, of elves and demons and the rape of innocents. Then a hooded being came, you couldn't see the face clearly it seemed she wore an impenetrable veil beneath. She spoke in a beautiful, eloquent calm voice that was strong and feminine 'fret not, Lor shalt reveal all in due time."

Here you were lying in the center of a field of fallen men, women and children, arrows in their backs. Only Two were lodged into your lower back, and you were out for days. Lost in your own dreamscape, the ravens that lurked nearby were heavily engaged with this kingly feast. They did not dare to steal your eyes, the windows to your soul. Perhaps because they were spies for your undead progenitors.

You gathered your wits and pulled two bodies off of yourself, nearby were two corpse collectors filling a wagon. At first they gingerly moved toward you with intent to put you out of your misery, but looked dismayed at your recovery. 'He looks dangerous that one' the first spat, hand tight around the handle of a dagger. The second removed a safety on the crossbow, 'who are you?' he nervously asked.

You recollect: men clad in black uniforms, sleek armor on each and were strong as an ox. Several took multiple clubs and continued to slaughter unphased, undeterred, and unharmed. It was as if some hidden force kept them going, ignorant of pain and its beautiful teachings.

The last survivor had been a pregnant woman of beauty, youth, and the men briefly tormented her, 'where the fuck are those damned brats hiding!' the man asked rhetorically then slit her throat ear to ear without emotion, as if it were as simple as that.

After surviving the storm of arrows, the corpse collectors gave you a free ride aboard their wagon. You managed to bypass several checkpoints of these similarly clad black guard, called 'black cloaks' by locals. It is only an hour later the first of the collectors invites you into a modest, but strangely lavish home. He grinned at you knowingly, 'Be surprised how good wages are with them blasted black cloaks killing everything' he explained, pouring you a chalice full of cold Nyrian wine. 'This is Valhegyian cemetary, where nameless house lords are buried. You'd get no richer robbing the sods blind then robbing the cunts graves real nicely!' he laughed. 'Tell you something, got a job for you yes I do. Proper job, right fit for one of your ilk. Look at you, survived two arrows to the back! See, there be some catacombs below, now don't go gettin your panties in a knot like the last bloody bastard who did me service. There aint no traps and creepy crawlers down there, at least by me reckoning. Map out the place and clear it of anything you might find undesirable, and I'll give you something sweet. I don't mean some cheap whorish perfume, either heh heh. I mean a real treasure, something you'd probrably kill me for so much as thank me for get me drift?
He offered you a bit of fried quail, lean but smokey and delicious. 'There's something down there, what I'm not sure of. I want it found, and I want discretion on your part. No guff, no questions asked, and whatever you find you kill or drive away. Any gold and valuables go straight to your pocket in addition to that reward you don't deserve. Whaddya say?"

The man, gray skinned and ordinary looking seemed treacherous and conniving, but hungry for things, not gold...something else. Finally he revealed the item he promised, a jewel encrusted egg. It looked highly valuable, aesthetically beautiful. Like something a child of royalty would possess.

As the corpse collector rested and gave you time to consider his offer, permitting you on a hammock to recover a raven landed on the sill of the window next to you, with a tiny finger sized scroll neatly tied to its tiny leg.

You read it:

*Idrys Stormcrow,*

Your name came to me by various intermediaries. I beseech a meeting with yourself at the Boarshead Inn in five days for works to be performed by professionals like yourself. In recompense I am utterly confident we can make it worth your while to work for us.

Once you reach the fifth commonroom, go to the bar and order three shots of Elven absinthe. Turn the first and last shot glass upside down leaving the middle upward. You will then be contacted with further instructions.

Be well, be weary!

-a friend

[TristenC]

[OOC: Is this a solo thread for Idrys or going to grow into the game thread?

Acceptance of the job is assuming he thinks he will be able to complete it and make it to the Boarshead within the 5 days limit.]

Valhegyian Cemetary
Idrys sat and listened with half an ear to the corpse-hauler’s offer of work; the veiled lady from his dream filling his thoughts. His cold, dispassionate gaze locked in a thousand-mile stare that peered through the room and into gods only knew where. Eventually he glanced around the room, noting the wealth. Enough to train for several years… he thought to himself. Enough to buy secrets from one hundred greedy men… or silence… Finally his attention drifted to the grey-skinned man’s offer, Mapping… he said flatly. Still, knowing the ins and outs of an un-traveled underground could be useful in the future… a place to hide… to store some cache of goods… a place secrets might lay… Perhaps I can make a copy for myself…

The Dhampir accepts the wine, sipping it idly and wishing it were a much warmer, vital brew… He ignored the offered food, though it smelled delicious, in favor of something… fresher later. The corpse-hauler continued to ramble, and Idrys ignored his platitudes about traps and creatures as readily as he dismissed the near-worthless promise of ‘keep what you find’. One corner of his mouth did quirk up, however, when the fool mentioned a reward worth killing for. The egg itself was a minor fortune small enough to fit into one hand… And what makes you think I won’t kill you for it right now… he imagined asking the stranger before him. Still, such a thing was out of the question for the moment. He needed to keep a low profile… for now… Finally the man asked the question he had been working up to, and Idrys simply sat there… boring into him with his flat eyes… Eventually he spoke. And how am I supposed to identify this thing if even you don’t know what you’re looking for? After hearing the answer, Idrys speaks again. Very well… I’ll run this errand for you at the offered price, but, he caught the man’s eyes in a vice-like gaze. I want some information. He holds up one hand to forestall the man’s protest. Not about the job… about the ‘black cloaks’. Who are they? Who leads them, and why do they engage in wholesale slaughter? What are their areas of operation, and what areas do they frequent? I’d like to avoid another… incident like the other day.

Later Idrys rests in the hammock, surprised when his namesake avian perches before him like some stately carrier-pigeon. Gently he retrieves the thin parchment and unfurls it. Scanning the message his mind begins to churn, Friend, eh… he thinks wryly to himself. I’ll bet… perhaps this is where I will finally find some answers… and work is always welcome… Memorizing the instructions, he tears the thin paper up into little pieces and devours them when he is sure nobody will see…

[ooc: had this all typed out and about twice as long… then my work computer rebooted and I lost the whole thing… had my background written too… lol.]

[spike]

OOC: This thread will merge with others when they've fleshed out their characters.

The corpse taker: 'black cloaks? They're the black imperials, they're not from these neck of the woods, hell I'm baffled the queen hadn't purged their sorry asses each and every one ' the bloody bastards. They're highly organized, efficient, tireless and capable forces adept at tactics and battle. Many o' them aren't simply good fighters, they're tactically brilliant from what I've heard other sellswords say about them. Rumor has it they follow some lunatic despot named Dezloz Rygoz. A power hungry lord somewhere in the deep southern kingdoms. The buggers have been after some orphans I believe, I keep hearing their offers of reward, reward being my life if I should see any orphans.'

He grinned mischievously 'I've speculation, not concrete evidence of a fragment of a map. Keep your eyes peeled, lad. You're a clever lad, you'll pull through. Remember the egg, it's a beautiful bauble. Here take some dried bacon, oil and this crobar and some rope. I know you'll do your very best"

He leads you a wine cellar below, guiding you by his bullseye lantern and through a maze of wine barrels til you reached a round door. Beyond this was a small room where a cistern lied in the center. A spiral set of stairs beckoned downward.

The stairs seemed to stretch for a long time before depositing you into a low ceiling antechamber. It was inky black here and your eyes adjusted to the absence of light. The thick layer of dust blanketing the ground was undisturbed. You discovered a door set into the west wall, There was something engraved into the door: a symbol of a circular spiral.

LOWER CHAMBER: the spiral stairwell ends in the centre of this underground chamber, wrought of limestone. Droplets of water trickle down from the ceiling periodically.
Theres limestone dust caked on the ground, it also covers the top of your boots as you move around and scout the vicinity. You discovered a door already to the west bearing a curious circular spiraling symbol you've never seen before now.

AS you pause to drink in the details of your surroundings red beady eyes glared at you from the nearby shadows. As your eyes became attuned to the dark, you saw that it was nothing more than a giant rat, near the size of a large dog. It did nothing, seemed intent on the contents of a barrel in the corner.

[TristenC]

Idrys considers the revelations regarding the 'black cloaks'... sounded like they were best avoided completely, for now... Readying his gear, Idrys checks that his leather armpr is snug, adjust the straps of his pack after adding the supplies from the corpse-hauler. He eases the longsword in his sheath and pats the dirk given to him by Bortaan as a reminder. Finally he inspects the door with it's strange sigil for any signs it has been opened or rigged. The man had said no traps, but readily trusting a stranger was the quick road to an early grave. Provided everything looks normal, he commits the symbol to memory and opens the door; using the crowbar if necessary.

[Ooc: any paper and charcoal to make a map as part of 'other supplies' Bortaan gave him? Or to purchase, since I haven't made up my eq list yet.]

[spike]

The corpse taker gave you 10 sheets of parchment and a griffon feather quill for use of map-making, and a bottle of squid ink.

The door creaked open with a little assist of the crobar, revealed is a long stretch of corridor that went straight as far as the eye could see then suddenly veered at a NE angle. Black iron cast torch sconces limned the walls on the left and right, filled with stubs and an undisturbed blanket of dust layered on the ground here.

Advancing, you came to a halt as you notice an entrance leading into a small lessser room on the left. This chamber is unremarkable save for a simple pedestal in its center, top of it was a plush red cushion and on top of it rested a circular metallic object, that looked like it could fit in the palm of your hand.

From somewhere in the distance you thought you heard what sounded like a woman screaming.

[TristenC]

OOC: two longswords works for me.

metal object: it's spherical, size would fit in your hand snuggly. Doesn't look particularly unique or out of the ordinary.

Idrys examines the cushion to see if he can find any markings or traps. He examines the metal object as well. Suddenly the woman screams! Poking his head into the passageway, he listens for the source of the noise and cautiously heads that way.

A quick analysis (vs. INT: succeeded) : til now you noticed what you failed to before entering the room: there's a slit just above the doorless entrance which you also see six pronged edges of a portcullis that would descend over the door if something were to trigger it. Additionally the slamming of the portcullis would depress pressure plates in the ground that would then trigger a secondary trap.

You leave and then quickly reach the end of the passage and take a cautious turn, where you spot two men clad in dark robes wearing facial masks, they're dragging a woman against her will.

masked robed man #1 says in a muffled voice 'get going you stupid bitch! the master awaits!'
masked robed #2 slaps the woman on the posterior 'if you're not the sorriest piece of ass, come morning you're be the soarest!'

both men chuckle in unison. The girl spat and resisted in futility as the two robed men dragged her away.

masked robed man #1 "You know, I'm starting to finally have some fun here, just as the boss told me I would. And when I get back, I'll be handsomely rewarded as a hero! Hah hah. I owe ya one pal!'

masked robed #2 'bah! such fun as you now enjoy are the fruits of the one who must be freed. Continue your studies, we draw closer each day to the great nullification. Enjoy what carnality your flesh demands"

[TristenC]

Not overly concerned about the woman's plight, he must nevertheless clear the tunnels. Idrys quietly draws his longswords rushes up behind the pair as stealthily as possible so as to surprise them. He attacks with both weapons at once since his targets are near each other, using his main hand for the 2nd, presumably more experienced, man.

----
[Ooc: would certainly have bought a 2nd longsword for dual wielding them if it is allowed like Bortaan. Otherwise Longsword and dirk]
Going for assassination table style surprise attack. Not sure
So with my dex the 2-weapon fighting penalties are reduced to -2/0. Does the 2-wep style then eliminate penalties for the off hand?
Longsword main hand thac0: 17
Off hand thac0: 17?

Idrys 2-wep black cloak assassination attempt [1d20] = 18[1d20] = 11
Lol. Well at least I probably hit 1 of them


Edit: Are the secondary pressure plates the portcullis will descend on narrower than the door? I.e. they couldb be blocked by say... a corpse or two stacked up?

[spike]

The two weapon style negates the offhand -2 penalty, plus Dhampirs are naturally ambidextrous anyways unlike humans or elves

Your muted foot sounds were unheard while the pair of masked ones continued idle chit chat, your initial attempt to backstab them both however missed their mark entirely (8, 9) it mattered little as you took them completely unaware, gaining the element of surprise.

Your gleaming longsword cuts a bloodied swath across masked man #1's back (-4 hp) who gasps 'please! I don't want to die!!!!' loudly, and your offhand dirk cuts a clean line across the other masked mans neck for -3 hp damage *CRITICAL*. What you thought was simply a flesh wound he fell to both knees as you opened up a precision cut and a fount of his precious lifeblood came gusherng out at an alarming rate. He fell over anti climatically, 'fuck!' he managed to issue before he died.

The last masked man hurls the girl at you and attempts to flee. You sidestep, sprung forward and bring your longsword hilt deep through the small of his back, ripping it out (-8 hp dmg). As he laid there, dying he laughed gurgling on his blood, 'you scum! I'll see you in the higher hell ere long!'.

There's a ring of four skeleton keys on the more experienced sounding of the two.

The girl crouched low and began sobbing 'please don't kill me!!!!! Just send me back to the farm I'll be good I swear it!'

[TristenC]

Idrys' breath becomes labored with the effort of not descending on the flood of crimson in a hungered frenzy. Quit your bawling, I'm not here for you. he wipes the blood from his weapons one at a time, forcing the urges down. But you are going to answer a few questions. Where did they find you? What were they planning? Have you ever seen this place before? He watches her reactions and listens to her answers carefully. Don't move an inch, and I'll take you out of here in just a second. Idrys grabs the keys and searches the bodies for any possessions. He then grabs and dons the least ruined cloak for a disguise.

[spike]

The girl grew quiet and alert, 'you mean you're not with them? Oh my hero! I knew someday a handsome fool would come along and sweep me off of my feet!' she said with a laugh.

'Find me? They didn't, they brought me from the farm. It's where they keep most of the girls and the others. Drunks, whores, lowlives, shitheels and charlatans, commoners, they're all taken and kept in the farm. It's somewhere in the outer suburbs of Lor, though they blindfold you before taking you there. What were they planning? Hell if I should know! I'm just a simple gal. I came to Lor because I can charge more money for my pussy there.' she said, 'these lunatics are all madmen, they do hire some others time to time for something. Mercenaries, I've fucked a'plenty before to tell the look of them anywhere. '

On one of the men was a small vellum scroll with these words written on it:

The very threads of existence must be torn asunder, then burned, then the ashes scattered, until all is nothing and no one exists to remember existence.

The second masked man has a longsword and a dirk with the handle that is crafted in the image of a beautiful naked woman. By your guess he was some sort of guardsman from a nearby town or city. There was also a tiny key he had hidden between his toes with the number 12 engraved on it.

[TristenC]

Idrys listens closely as he relieves the corpses of their possessions, tucking the key and scroll into a pouch, the new dirk into his pack, and setting the new longsword up so he can dual-wield. He quickly gives the girl directions on how to get back to the surface. Don't go anywhere else. Got it? he grabs the mask from man 2 and puts it on to complete his disguise with the newfound cloak. He finally drags the corpses back to the alcove with the metal sphere, leaving them in the hall.

He empties one of their pouches and ties his rope to one pouch string. Then he very delicately places the empty pouch over the sphere as far as he dares. Retreating through the archway, he lies one body atop the other then folds it double over the bottom one's chest; in order to get the most height. Carefully he slides them under the opening for the portcullis in a space that won't trigger the secondary pressure plate. Finally he jerks hard on the rope to pull the sphere-in-pouch through before the portcullis descends; hoping the stacked bodies keep it from falling all the way to activate the second pressure plate.

[Ooc: let me know if any of that was confusing]

[spike]

With caution and delicacy you pluck the spherical item whisking it off the velvet cushion, causing a green gaseous cloud to erupt from the base of the pedestal! If you hadn't been using the string and pouch method you might have run afoul of this spore gas immediately.

The bodies did absorb the crash of the portcullis, however the portcullis is incredibly heavy and would require more than just you to lift it upward (it requires combined strength of 21 to lift up)

As you struggled against the portcullis, the gas crept in and filled your nostrills full of its insidious ichor, which you realized now what the effect was: weakness. you collapse on the floor and pass out. Seems the gas also has sleepiness added to it as well.

When you came to, you were being hoisted on either arm by a masked man. The blonde woman you rescued was in front of you, she winked at you with a wry grin. Your hands were bound securely behind you back with ropes wound from wrist to elbow.

The blonde woman laughed then said nothing.

You're escorted through a set of double doors and into an octoganal ante-chamber, clean and sparsely furnished. Seated on a wooded throne was a man with a rotund mid-section, a golden mask, and two rather beautiful women chained at the base of his throne. The first was blonde and the second, a dark brunette. He had two masked ones at either side of him. 'Ah, Velora, what've we here? Come to tempt me with your usual meat puppets I presume?'

The blonde woman fumed for a moment, then checked herself, 'we caught this little bastard, he was trying to steal the glaive from the pedestal room. He killed Eltan and Bash."

The 'boss' removed his mask, revealing an ordinary face with calculating eyes, a mustache and a permanent grin. He purposely opened his mouth and a set of vampiric eye-teeth protruded from the roof of his mouth. (vs. INT:1 succeeded) you noticed something peculiar and artificial about the teeth, they look fake!

The 'vampire' outstretched a hand, when your dirk flew to his grasp. The masked men who observed this muttered among themselves in gaping reverence, 'such power' one stammered in awe. This somewhat fat vampire began picking his teeth with the tip of your dirk, 'ho hum, just another bum we caught in the tunnels...every month we get some interloper trying to infiltrate my prestigious underground organization. You bubbling idiots get out, before I drink your damned blood for the hell of it. Not you Velora, stick around.'

The rotund bellied boss outstretched his other hand, adorned in black gleaming gloves and the spherical object you attempted to steal flew to his hand. With some violent gesticulating, you saw the 'thing' sprout curvacious blades and resembled a large starfish in shape, save for its gleaming dangerous looking blades. 'You've come to steal this glaive? It's a holy item for these lunatics. A difficult weapon for any mere mortal, but not one for a truly powerful vampire such as myself. You see?" he flung the boomerang toward you, it spun around the room then return to his hand. He snatched it out of the air effortlessly. 'It's a mere toy, nothing more. Archaic even, why'd you risk your silly ass trying to steal it is beyond me. I would've sold the damned thing for a few gold pieces and be done with it!' he chuckled.

Velora: : who ARE you?! How did you find us? Did Borig send you down here? That dumbshit! I knew he couldn't be trusted'

[TristenC]

[Ooc: lol. Not enough sense to stop pushing on the gate with gas creeping in, eh? Bummer ]

Idrys slumps against Velora as if the gas were still affecting him. False teeth, eh... but everyone else believes... hmm... When she turns to question him he opens his mouth as if too weak to speak, whispering a nonsensical phrase hoarsely. As she leans in closer to hear, his eyeteeth slide down and he tears her throat out with a single bite, spraying blood everywhere and grinning open-mouthed from ear to hear. Laughing evilly he calls out to the fat fake, Send these mortals away, their minds would boil from our infernal discourse. We vampires have a bargain to discuss... He continues grinning, her lifeblood dripping from his fangs.

[spike]

YOU SEIZED VELORA and plunged your fangs into her shoulder, and she froze stiff as you enjoyed her hot blood pouring generously into your mouth, your tongue lapping up the liquid all of its own accord.

The fat vampire snickered at this and flicks a barbed dart into your neck (-2 hp damage, paralyzed) you felt your muscles tense up and stiffen tight, and you couldn't even move your own eyeballs. He came in close and said 'if you need a lesson in manners my friend, I'm not the one to provide such. See, I just run things around here, keep it a well oiled machine. But the boys...you see, they're a bunch of loonies. They enjoy flaying people, eating them, sodomizing them, torturing and slowly draining all of their dignities, their will to live even. You'll break sooner or later, I don't care how tough you think you are, boy. Hell I own your silly ass. Your life isn't worth a damn, and keeping you fed and alive would cost me more than you're actually worth. Take him my minions and teach him how beautiful the pain can be'

The masked men dragged you away and clubbed you repeatedly into submission, lifting you up into the air and suspending you above the ceiling by chains. The chains ended in hooks that attached to your armor and clothing.

You stood hanging for days in the dark, your hands and legs bound by chains to the wall.

DAY 4: two men enter and lower the chains and then pummel you down to 1 HP then place you back up into the air, 'he'll break soon nuff, damn it smells like orc shit in here'

DAY 6: somebody raises an alarm and the sounds of many boots can be heard. The door to the cell crept open and in came two weary black armored guards, torches raised and longswords readied. They looked up and one said ''get that man down'

Guard #2: "He lives, lets get him back to the lieutenant, he's seen better days'

What do you do?

[TristenC]

[Ooc: so did he not go into frenzy when they beat him?]

The warm blood threatened to overwhelm him, but he pulled away just in time... unfortunately it was just in time for the poison dart to strike him... his body lay rigid on the floor, but he had no fear... only hatred for this fat, greasy fake... or was he? The fangs were false, but was there real infernal power there? He strained to speak, to offer his deal; but it was too late. The man taunted him with indirect threats from his lackeys, but Idrys didn't care. If he died, he would never have his amswers; but if he lived? Ooooh... then he would someday have revenge... his last thought before they dragged him off was how satisfying that treacherous woman's blood had been.

Time stretched between the beatings, and he lost track of the days, left only to his own mind... which was little comfort at the moment. He imagined rescue coming... breaking down the door, finding him... it was ludicrous... he didn't even know a Lieutenant... damn... had he missed his meeting at the boarshead? Who are you?