PC Central - Homecoming: Kith and Kin
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At the earliest convenience, George sails out to meet with H'resh. Given the infiltration by Doppelgangers, he does not wish to take any chances with a mere letter. He leaves word with Isolde about his whereabouts, in case he happens to disappear.
He brings with him the rod of True Seeing he still needs to return to Rey, but keeps it out of sight.
Approaching the ship with colours raised, he boards when given permission and requests the captain out on deck.
"Hey cap. Could I ask you to call all hands out on deck? And I do mean all hands, even the ones on bilge pump duty and Tim catching forty winks in between the stacks of ham like we can't smell that's where he's been. Don't worry, I've got a point to make, but I'd hate to ruin the surprise."
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After hearing Frewin Ashald out, Vernadetta seemed pensive, finally smiling at him
"Let me think about it, si? It's a big decision. Is there a deadline on when you need an answer?"
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Danson inspects the candy. He takes particular note of the wrapper, and of the brand.
"I like the name 'Limonetti,'" he notes, before unwrapping it and taking a bite of the candy bar. After chewing and swallowing, he goes on.
"The doppelganger in question remains captive. I'm unaware of whether Motley Gray dipped her paws into any doppelganger files. She did not steal them. Whether she copied or consulted the information, I couldn't say."
[DM Xanatos Gambit]
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The Kildarn estate is modest and small. There is only one domestic servant - a dark haired maid of middle-age. After that there are five guards, who seem rather reluctant to be here, in Peltarch, and in service to the Kildarn house.
After being let in, Aoth ultimately is met with only one noble: an elderly man, with a frail frame, and a severe shake to his hands. That is despite the numerous other portraits upon the wall of younger men and women of various ages.
The elderly man invites Aoth in to sit for wine and bread.
He the nobleman introduces himself as Antony Kildarn.
"Forgive the cold and empty house," he says. "My grand-daughter, her husband, and their children, have decided to leave this place. For greener pastures, in Hoarsgate. It's just me and my grandson Cedric now."
He wags a few letters of correspondence, which he keeps nearby on a small table.
He listens to Aoth's news, and then grows quiet for a long while.
Eventually, he murmurs, more to himself, as an objective, than anything else: "I'll meet with the Temple to arrange for resurrection. It will work."
The sullen old peers at Aoth, after she remarks about the potential for strange happenings and visitations. He replies: "No, no strange visitations, that I'm aware of..."
After a few moments, he seems to remember, and continues: "There was one woman who came by, asking about Cedric and the Snydders girl. A peculiar woman, didn't seem from around here, you know ... apparently works for City Hall, as Herald."
"She also asked about my son's activity, with respect to certain occult practices, eh, wondering, about the basement ..."
"Some detectives, a pretty woman, and a halfling, eh, put an end to my son's misbehavior, many years ago. In that basement."
He is quiet for a bit.
"I told the Herald the truth. The door, down there. It held magic, once. It used to lead elsewhere. Another place. Somewhere unreal. But the magic's gone. It's been sealed shut. Hasn't been opened in years."
"I let her inspect it. She took a while to look at it. She seemed satisfied, and left."
Should Aoth ask to see the basement and the door for herself, Antony Kildarn says, "Not today. I have business, with the Temple, with respect to Cedric."
[DM Xanatos Gambit]
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Isolde hears Danson out, urging him most empathically to steer clear of any close contact with the alleged 'nerdification table' in question. She taps her crimson nails, processing the news on Motley Grey's two-timing of the Smiling Monkey without much surprise - then leans across the table and pushes a particularily finely branded candy-bar across, the name "Limonetti" written in swirly yellow lettering across the black wrapper. It seems to hold a chewy lemon bar of fine quality. She affects her most dectective-styled voice and says:
"You're a peach, Danson, but for the win I need the Doppelganger dirt, see. In particular, the one that did me in, after messing with people's memory and even books. The bastard's still in lock-up, right? And did Motley Grey dip her paws into any doppelganger cases that you know of?"
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A few days after the death of Cedric, the gray druid pays a visit to the Kildarn residence dressed for the somber occasion. She begins with a bowed head. “I am Aoth Sepret, and I wish to extend my condolences and my apologies for your loss. I was unprepared and as such unable to shield your kin from the creature’s full attack. If there is anything I or my associates can do, you have but to make a request.”
If the family will hear her out, she will continue. “You may know my name from the rumors of my association with the Bravickus family. I wish to extend to you the same courtesy I gave them and young Cedric in the infirmary: my belief. Like them, I fear you may be subject to strange visitations, unusual requests, and improbable accusations. If any of these are familiar or become so, I urge you to share so that we may bring this conspiracy to its end and avenge Cedric.”
((Persuade: 12+22=34))
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The bright-eyed Frewin Ashald pulls up two chairs in the arms-room's ancillary alcove. The alcove is well lit by large glass windows, revealing the greens of the gardens outside.
He sits, and goes on, answering Verna's question:
"No use keeping it from you. My former champion is dead. He was a fine fighter -- a half-elvish bladesinger from the Cormanthor. He was named Alcoril Amarillis. Unfortunately, the resurrection didn't take."
"He was with me three years, before he lost a duel against Zasugur, the half-orcen champion fighting on behalf of House Easthall, from Kront."
Frewin frowns deeply at this. He shifts in his chair, and for moment and the first time, he seems quite cross and sullen.
He catches himself in this mood, and consciously smiles instead. It doesn't quite reach his ears for a few moments.
"The result of this loss was a rather un-favourable commercial arrangement between Ashald and Easthall. We had made a bet, you see. That the terms of certain prices for the import of rare minerals - gold, silver, the like - would depend on the outcome of the duel."
"I lost that bet."
"I've had my eye on several replacements. You're my favored candidate. Someone for a rematch against Zasugur. Assuming that you accept. And that gloatsome woman Levina Easthall accepts the offer."
"That, of course, would come after your practice run at the King's martial tournament in two weeks."
A servant serves a large pitcher of tea, along with a large bowl of ice, followed by two goblets. Frewin thanks her, scoops ice into his goblet, and then begins pouring the tea over it. He offers you the same.
That is before he concludes, "In short - you will represent me in duels, tournaments, and matches of my choosing. At any moment you could of course decline, but the moment that happens our arrangement will be at its end."
"Represent me well and there will be more for you than mere coin. Champions are well respected by any noble with eyes and sound mind. Not only by me."
[DM Xanatos Gambit]
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In the Docks of Peltarch, in the hidden facilities of the Smiling Monkey Company, the young Danson peers at Isolde with listless eyes. He remarks, in his slow, somewhat dull tone, "Hello, Isolde. It's been some time. I notice you and your friends have caused some disturbances since your return."
He continues: "I received your report about the entity which you called the 'nerdification table.' I'll have an investigator inspect it for any anomalous properties."
After your question, he replies: "The reason I removed Motley Grey from the company is simple. I have reasons to believe she is working for an un-identified third party. Each of my attempts to identify her true employer have remained unsuccessful to date. Consequently, she cannot be trusted."
"As for why she chose to work in City Hall... Perhaps it is to do with the former Herald's absence? Why she chose to seize upon the vacant position. Ultimately, I do not know her motivation."
[DM Xanatos Gambit]
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The following letter is submitted to the Peltarch Times opinion page:
A man is innocent. A man is guilty.
The key to a thorough investigation is an inspector who can hold as truth both statements simultaneously while searching for evidence against them. The same can be said of a fair trial: to properly identify guilt, the magistrate must imagine innocence everywhere.
The gaoling of innocents, with or without slanted proceedings, may be the single most determining factor in whether a people are free or safe. Indeed, the greatest threat to an individual life is not an arrow (for that can cause only death) but their own society. For if a civilization refuses a life or a perspective or a possibility, ultimately it values nothing and no one. Those throwing stones without repercussion today can only expect the same returned upon them tomorrow.
Is there anything more suspect in a time of crisis than someone who attempts to turn the confusion to their benefit? I see little difference between a vial of poison, a necrotic arrow, and the mob on Civic Road—all of them tools of an effort to unseat justice.
–Aoth Sepret
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*After admiring the weapon collection, seemingly impressed by it, Vernadetta accepted the invitation to sit with an untrained smile, a reserved hue in her features as she was more used to deception than praise.
"You defeated a lich, I've heard," he remarks. "And you've fought against an entire city guard, in Abdar, of the Silver Marshes. Isn't that right?"
Have I? Oh... che cosa, I don't remember. I try not to put a name to my enemies, it only fills my head with remorse and keeps me from sleeping at night.
"Do you know me?" he asks.
Vernadetta twisted the left corner of her lips for a moment before answering in what seemed to be a natural gesture
"I did not know you, but per favore do not take offense, nobility and gossip are just not part of my circle of concerns. I do know well that the Ashald family is well established and notorious in Peltarch, and has had figures of power and prestige in the city for generations.
"I'm no warrior. I'm trained in matters of commerce and finance. To find value where no-one else sees it. But I was never quite interested in pure docks business."
"I don't care for investing in enterprises. I would much rather prefer to invest in a champion. Someone willing to fight in my name, and raise both our profiles. My family can disagree all they like -- I think there can be no sounder a business decision than to invest in the right fighter."
"And, besides, Uncle Edwin likes me," he smiles. "So there isn't much any of the other Ashalds can do about it."
"What do you say? Would you be interested in becoming my champion?"
This question gave her pause, as she brought a hand to her chin, tapping her lower lip gently with one fingertip, in some consideration
"I must know the nature of this championship. If it is for sport, in tournaments where death is not involved... certo! You can be my sponsor, and I can be your champion. I still don't know you well, so I may change my mind later about it, but I'm open to try it. But is it that, what you would require of your Champion?".
Vernadetta tilted her head, listening attentively
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Isolde, after having delivered the black arrow safely to Jonni's sanctum, doubles back to the city with some haste. She heads immediately to the Ladies Detective Agency, where poor Tristyn's subjected to various scrutinizing tests to ensure he is, indeed, who he ought to be. Assuming no foul play is discovered, she instructs the ex-Cerulean to stay on high alert versus the doppelganger threat. Finally satisfied, Isolde kicks her boots up on the desk, flips the Smiling Monkey notepad up and writes:
"Oh Danson, my Danson! Whatever drove Motley Grey back into City Hall and to the herald's job? It can scarcely be rewarding in the traditional sense, given she's pretty much the only one doing actual clerk work that I've noticed. So her angle is something 'else', I'd wager. Has she been ousted from the SM ranks, perhaps? I need the scoop on that, and the worrisome, potentially related fact that the city's rife with Doppelgangers! Please share any intel you have on the latter, in particular whether that 'certain' one I captured is still safely incarcerated. Your favourite employee,
~Isolde~"
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Verna finds that the Ashald guards know her face, and are well aware of the open invitation from Frewin Ashald. One of them invites her to the Ashald estate, which strikes her as the perfect time to accept and to visit.
After she is escorted to Frewin's arms room, she notices it is replete with all manner of decorative weaponry, including longswords, greatswords, and greataxes.
The room is also home to portraits of the great fighters of history: Nasher Alagondar, Llachior Blackthorn, and Arilyn Moonblade, among others.
Standing in the center, apparently having been informed of your arrival ahead of time, is a fresh-faced, brown-haired, bright-eyed and smiling nobleman.
"Vernadetta Di Alva Dolcexicio," begins Frewin Ashald. "I'm Frewin Ashald. The pleasure is mine. Please, join me."
After only ten or so minutes of small-talk, it becomes clear that Frewin is an enthusiast of warriors and duelists. Although he has no actual direct experience in martial matters (indeed, he seems to have led a rather easy life), he is actually well read on the history of fighters and is in the loop of gossip concerning even more recent events.
"You defeated a lich, I've heard," he remarks. "And you've fought against an entire city guard, in Abdar, of the Silver Marshes. Isn't that right?"
"Do you know me?" he asks.
"I'm no warrior. I'm trained in matters of commerce and finance. To find value where no-one else sees it. But I was never quite interested in pure docks business."
"I don't care for investing in enterprises. I would much rather prefer to invest in a champion. Someone willing to fight in my name, and raise both our profiles. My family can disagree all they like -- I think there can be no sounder a business decision than to invest in the right fighter."
"And, besides, Uncle Edwin likes me," he smiles. "So there isn't much any of the other Ashalds can do about it."
"What do you say? Would you be interested in becoming my champion?"
[DM Xanatos Gambit]
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Intrigued by the letter received by the Ashald noble, Vernadetta would wait for the right time to visit the Ashald residence. Already wary about this family's shady dealings, she could not help but think that it all might be a setup to take advantage of her frontloaded honesty and goodwill in one way or another. She'd need to bring with her those who knew more about dealing with these people.
And yet, a part of her wanted to believe that the admiration of this noble was genuine, and the idea of participating in a martial exhibition was all too appealing to her. It had been years since she participated in something that might have been somewhat similar, back in Saerloon, as one of the monastery's customary thrills that she grew with; who was her to turn down such a tempting invitation?
Once more pressing issues cleared out, she'd remind those close to her about the possibility of exploring this venue in an attempt to gain more insight on the dealings of each noble house regarding the Black Metal crisis.
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"Ah, Myrcella!~ Interesting findings, but before you hand that over, an acute update! The city's rife with doppelgangers - we've killed two by now, one an assassin we failed to stop from murdering a Kildarn boy who had spied its true face, the other none other than Kasimir's appointed Kingsguard... True Seeing will reveal the trickery although it must be said the false Kingsguard took close scrutiny even then. Tell number two, the cheaper way, is the colour of one's blood. Ours red, theirs black and icky-ichorous."
With this, Isolde promptly pricks Myrcella's fingertip, then her own as a show of good faith, apologetically smiling.
"All clear! I believe with all this shenanigans going on, Jonni's sanctum's the safest place for any sensitive findings. I've a key, so we can deliver it directly whether our Seer's home or not."
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The results of Myrcella's experimentation follow.
DETECT MAGIC: Myrcella detects faded, and fading, necromancy magic. She can tell it was once very powerful, but was spent the moment the arrow struck its target, some time ago. All that said, there still remains some necromancy magic on the arrow, just not as powerful as it once was.
THE ORC'S INJURY: Black veins spread from the pierced skin, emanating outwards. The orc's skin turns gray, his eyes gloss over, and his overall strength and vitality are drained. Myrcella's versed with knowledge of arcane, though, and she can tell the effects of the "faded necromancy" are that of a "level drain" spell.
So, while the arrow, initially enchanted, was designed to inflict "true death" - that magic is spent. The residual magic, which is unstable, and likely fading fast (the more it is used), is that of a level drain spell.
THE DEATHWARD: The deathward actually appears to work. The orc is not level drained. It is unclear whether this protective ward would work on the arrow as it was initially enchanted, without the true death magic having faded.
FINAL EXPERIMENT: The first orc did not die, but was level-drained. The second was not level drained. Myrcella attempts to inflict a wound, wait 10 seconds, then cast death ward. The orc is, once again, level drained. The death ward does NOT cure the level drain. At this point the arrow's magic is dwindling fast.
SECURE PLACE: Nate is, as usual, unavailable, but perhaps she can find Isolde who will store it properly, or any other members of the party.
[DM Xanatos Gambit]
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[OOC: Posting this for Gonnar, since his character Myrcella took the following actions, as described in Discord.]
Myrcella heads into the Bardic College in order to work quietly on the black arrow. After casting some protective spells just for safety (Deathward and lesser mindblank, as well as fox's cunning and owl's wisdom to empower her mental capacities) she places the arrow on the table and casts a detect magic spell, first of all, to try to tell if there's any more than just necromancy magic to it, and second to see if she can learn something from the enchantment cast upon the arrow. (Spellcraft +32, INT +6 , Wis +6). She scribbles the result of her findings and bags the arrow again, pointing downwards. She is tempted to cast a scrying spell, too, but decides against it, knowing that Jonni is far more versed in such things and he'd be less likely to be detected in the process as well as get better results.
After this small magical testing, she heads into the giantspire woods, only to enter the first cave, filled with the orc grunts. Without much emotion, she cast a hold spell on the first one she sees. Approaches it and takes the black arrow from her bag, piercing the orc's skin with it until it bleeds just a little. She then keeps quiet, examining which effects the black arrow wound has on the orc. (Heal +20). If she notices the orc dies, or the orc shows any other strange or unusual symptoms, she will scribble about it.
Then Myrcella tries to find yet another orc, and casts a hold person on it. She casts deathward on the orc, and then repeats the process as with the first orc. Keeping a close eye on both, effects, and time. Perhaps it won't stop the effects, but might slow them.
Lastly, should the first orc die to the black arrow wound, and the second not, she would still find a third orc and repeat the process, except this time she would cast deathward 10 seconds after the wound is made with the black arrow.
After the field experiment, she'd head back to the college and ask Nate or Isolde to put the arrow ina secure place
