Chapter 2: Rites of Passage

[Jeff]

Nah, Joe. He's not shut out. It's cool. Say, did you mean Read Magic?
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Streko's spell does little to make the soldier look any better, his wound caked with blood from Goran's arrow, but the Jorasco halfling knows a clean wound when he sees it. The man will live, but it will be quite a while before he comes to unassisted.

Tangat wriggles and squirms, uncomfortable being carried even by Kal in this tight space. It's not easy, but you manage to carry the two other soldiers down the ladder.

Kal hands down his sunrod to Pel, who otherwise would be hanging from the ladder in absolute darkness. The alchemical torch glows brightly, pure and white, pushing back the darkness of the sub-cellar below.

Or perhaps not a sub-cellar. The chamber is small, perhaps fifteen feet by fifteen feet, and superficially resembles a room belonging to a sewer. But the chamber is clean, looking like a temporary encampment, though there is an underlying scent of rancid meat pervading the space—reminiscent of the creature that was Davin.

There is a coil of rope, some bedrolls, a bag of strange-smelling rations. A thick, tallow candle, half-melted, a thin blade, and an iron goblet rest upon a stone shelf on one side. At the center of the room, lying in a bad angle five feet below the ladder's lowest rung, is the Emerald Claw commander. He looks dead.

There is a single exit, a tunnel leading into moist, dripping darkness. The sewers of Passage.

The other soldier, rendered asleep by Pel's spell, stirs and finally
awakes. He openes his eyes, squinting against the light of the sunrod, and looks up at his enemies, captors, and saviors.

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Streko casts cure minor wounds, healing the soldier 1 hit point, stabilizing him.

[Darren]

Grabbing the coil of rope, Kalarian stows it in his pack. "To replace the other one," he says by way of explanation. Taking the thin blade, he moves towards the awakened soldier. "Seems your commander had a little accident," he says, gesturing with the weapon. "And since everyone else is gone, I guess that means you're in charge now. Congratulations on your promotion." Kalarian shifts the blade to his left hand and strikes the soldier hard across the face with the back of his right. After a pause, he smiles at the man. "So, tell us a little more about where we are, and what you're doing here..."

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Kal will also take this opportunity to disarm this soldier if he still carries weapons of any sort. We should also search both of them for anything else of use.

[Jeff]

Kal plucks a dagger from a belt on the man's belt, fulling disarming him (he's pretty sure), then backhands him.

The man lets the blood leak from his nose, glaring up at Kal. "Think you've got things all under control, have you? Think you've beaten the Emerald Claw? We are like a hydra, d'Deneith. Strike at us, make us stronger."

Despite his bluster, the man's eyes flash back and forth amidst the rest of the group. He knows he's at your mercy, knows he at least is defeated and overpowered. His eyes linger on Pel, caster of the spell that subdued him.

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Kal's attack: 12 + 2 = 14 / 3 nonlethal damage to soldier

[Darren]

Kal sighs. "Why do you all say the same things? 'We're like a hydra. You've made us stronger'," he says in a mocking tone. "Do they teach you this stuff in Emerald Claw school or something?" He moves closer to the man's face and continues in a very even tone. "Of course I know we haven't beaten the Emerald Claw. We have beaten YOU." He makes as if to strike the man again, but stops short and smiles at him. "Again, I ask you, commander,where are we, and why are you here?"

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Intimidate, maybe?

[Jeremy]

Goran listens to the soldier, for the moment his revulsion at the Emerald Claw overtaking his natural empathy for a wounded creature. He steps forward, just a little behind and to the side of Kal. He grins a weary smile. Like Kal, he's heard this song too many times before.

"I'm sure you're right, friend. Fellows such as yourself, willing to die for whatever you're told to die for...there's ever an inexhaustible source of your breed. There's never a lack of dupes to brainwash with lies and empty promises. But maybe, we've slain enough of you to become something of an irritant to your, uh, hydra?"

He slips out the Deneith blade, looking at and stepping slowly towards him in a cavalier fashion. Then in a lightning motion he sticks the knife just beneath the man's crotch, pressing the flat of the blade against his...uh, well, yea.

"But as I said before, there are far worse things we can do than simply kill you. You shouldn't be thinking of your precious sect right now, so much as thinking about which parts of you you'd like to keep...and which you'd like to donate to the cause?"

[Jeff]

The soldier's face reddens slightly when Kal throws his words back at him, his confidence faltering. When Goran adds his words to the mix, he pales visibly.

"Listen," he says, remaining still. "We can work something out. I'll tell you what you want to know, but you must promise to let me go. If you're aiming to...uh, kill me...or something....then why should I help you? But if...you just let up, we can work it out, right?"

"This room is just a temporary hideout. My commander—" He glances to the dead man. "—led us here, I guess he knew its location and had made some arrangement with the brewer. I wouldn't know. I don't question the where and when."

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Goran's Intimidate assist check = 13 (success)
Kal's Intimidate check = 25 + 2 (Goran's assistance)= 27 (very nice)

[Darren]

Kal turns away from the soldier for a moment, giving Goran a wry grin that says, "Let's play a little good marshal, bad marshal, shall we?" Turning back with a sigh, Kalarian holds up a hand in front of Goran. "That will be enough," he says to the half-elf. "I think the commander has gotten the point. I'm surprised at you wanting to keep your life, given how little it's worth right now. Still, I will help you to live, provided you help us. What was your mission here? What were you hoping to find? And who sent you?"

[Lara]

Letting the boys engage in their little game, Pel checks the area around the trapdoor, looking for any sign that the fire above might still make its way to them.

[Jeremy]

Goran growls under his breath, looking briefly at Kal and returning his gaze to the soldier.

"- the hells with this! He knows more than he's telling us, and I think we should do a little carving, whadda ya say? Nothing brings out the truth like loving knife work!"

"...where and when..." he adds mockingly, "Liar!"

Then his voice lowers again.

"You know, there's a niiiiice little bundle of nerves right behind your organ here, fella...right underneath" he turns to the others, playing it up.

"LET'S START THERE! I've had enough of this crap, no more playing nice with this trash!! I'll tear him apart...piece by piece!"

[Joe]

Streko watches the interplay between the two men and the guard, unaware of any communication between them.

"Gentlemen, I would much rather heal friends than enemies. Let's try calming down a little and making a plan to get out of this sewer alive and intact. All of us...so that we can solve this riddle."

[Jeff]

As they talk, the Sentinel Marshal, Velhan—an older man whose hair is peppered with grey—holds his son in his arms still, checking to see how he is, whispering soothing words to him. Taymra watches over them both like a mother hen, though until now she's always seemed like a woman of action.

Pel stalks around the room, peering up. She can just make out the muffled crashing of wood. She seems to think there's sufficient stone between this room and the cellar above to shield them from the fire, but if the whole building were to come down, she's not sure. The building had a stone base, so it seems unlikely.

The Emerald Claw soldier winces at Goran's words, but beneath his fear he regards Goran oddly. His companions suspect he might be laying it on a bit too thick.

He looks back at Kal. "Yes, I get the point. Call your Reacher savage away and I'll tell you whatever you want to know." He waits until Goran gets a little distance. "My mission was to obey the direct orders of my superior." He indicates the dead commander. "And nothing more. His orders, as I understood it, were to await all of you. We had vague descriptions: umm, a Deneith dandy"—he keeps his face neutral at that—"a couple of shifters, a woman, a Reacher, an Aundairian half-elf, and a halfling priest." We were using the Marshal to lure you in, because one of you is in possession of a book that has great value to the one who gave orders to my superior."

He eyes Kal levelly. "And I don't know who that is, so don't ask me."

"You mentioned my wife, one of you," Velhan says to the group at large. "Then she is alive still?" There is hope, and fear, in his voice. He seems almost oblivious to his surroundings at the moment, except for his son.

The boy looks alive and well, fully restored by Streko's spell. He watches, wide-eyed, at the scene. But his eyes are sharp, and he looks enormously relieved to be with his father again.

_______________________

Darren, I think perhaps a wry grin can't convey something so specific as what you suggest, but it's certainly enough for Goran to play along.

Jeremy, why the yellow text all of a sudden?

[Darren]

Kalarian sighs. "Alright. I guess that'll have to do for now." Again turning his back on the man, Kal gives a wink to Streko. He addresses Velhan. "Yes, Marshal, the last I saw her, your wife was alive. She was hurt, but I believe she can be healed. She is under Amal's care right now, and I'm sure she will be well." Spinning on his heel, Kalarian turns back to the soldier. "Alright, well, no sense sitting around here. Let's see where this leads, shall we? I think our new friend here has just volunteered to lead the way." Leaning closer to him, Kalarian lets a little bit of menace into his voice as he adds, "Don't even think about trying to betray us or escape. The crazy half-elf there will be right behind you."

[Joe]

Noticing that things have calmed down quite a bit, Streko walks over to Velhan and his son.

"You were very brave back there, young man. Your father must be very proud of you! You will be fine, so don't worry. My friends here have a knack of getting out of tight spots."

He looks around the small holding area. Referring to the unconscious soldier on the ground, Streko goes over to Taymra. "The soldier should be okay. He's still seriously wounded, but barring the building above crashing down on him, or rats deciding that he is a free meal, he should be okay. I wouldn't considering moving him, however, unless you want me to expend yet another spell to revive him...and considering the situation we are in now, I wouldn't necessarily suggest that option."

[Jeff]

"Thank you, Streko," Taymra says. "We will not heal him further unless we have the resources to do so. And I'm not inclined to, anyway."

A great deal of tension leaves the Sentinel Marshal's body at Kal's words. "Thank the Sovereigns. Lord Kalarian, I owe you much for your help, but it seems there is much yet to unmask. And I will not be the man to help you with that. I am unfit to remain in my station."

"But he's lying," the boy, Toler, says, pointing at the Emerald Claw soldier. "'Least, he's not saying all he knows!"

"You can talk?" the soldier blurts, incredulous. "Deceiving brat...!" His words trail off cautiously.

With Kal's sword, Velhan advances on the soldier and points the tip of the blade to his throat. "You dare call him a deceiver? What did you think?"

"They thought I was deaf and dumb," the boy says proudly, angrily. "Faked it. So I heard them say some things when they separated me from mum. Didn't think I'd hear."

"What did they say, Toler?" the Marshal asks, still looking at the soldier, a proud and angry grin on his face.

"That there was a man coming," the boy continues. "A man who would check in on them at night. A man on a winged beast. They were afraid of him."

"We..." the soldier stops, then nods, resigned to speak. "We don't know who he is, only that he is some agent of the one who is funding our cell. We're doing mercenary work for someone, but he's not one of us. This is about gold, Marshal. About getting reparations for our Order, so we can rebuild the just and noble military force we once were."

[Josh]

In Phorem's Tower

"So." The old mage shrugs. "I hope the spawn of Shavarath haven't ruined Passage for you, my young friend. This really is a fine city. It's the perfect launching point for any quest. For those of us in the House, it's the start and end of our journeys."

Grafth shrugs, "An isolated incident like this can be troublesome, but hardly enough to spoil my impressions of the place. I've seen so little of the city so far, but what I've seen from your windows is quite nice. I look forward to getting a taste of the day-to day on the streets."

The shifter has again reclined in his chair, comfortable and relaxed. "I do hope they've managed to take care of whatever task Kalarian put them up to. And I hope they bring some solid leads back with them. Maybe they can even confirm the involvement of this "Malov" fellow...

"Phorem, you mentioned that Malov was of the ir'Turian... do you know if his family would support him? Considering that he ruined their name and perhaps even forced them into a sort of exile... if we could find them, might they be just as interested in his defeat as we are?"

He pauses... "But something Kalarian said, about how the changeling who gave us the book might very well have been trying to take it away from ir'Turian... Bah! There are too many unknowns here. I still feel as if there is more than one party after this book."

[Darren]

Kalarian smiles proudly at the boy, as if it were his own son he was looking at. "Smart kid you have there, Marshal. Did you hear anything else, boy?" Looking over at Taymra, he asks, "What time do you make it to be right now?"

[Jeff]

In Phorem's Tower

"Who could say?" Phorem says. "I don't think anyone's heard from them in a while. They're either with him or against him. But if they were against him, I'd think he'd have dealt with them by now. Unless he wishes to maintain some sort of legitimate connection with Fairhaven's nobility. A distinct possibility."

"It makes my head hurt, too, Graft," he says with a smile.

A short while passes, and Matheu soon returns, alighting once again along a curtain on the wall. Roren says it will be along shortly. I wasn't going to wait around for it, nor be expected to bring it to you. And I told him as much. Therefore, Roren will be sending it along with a messenger.

At Grafth's puzzled look, Phorem nods. "'It' is your means of carrying around this book safely beyond this tower. If old Roren is not very busy, I expect it will arrive within the hour."

It may interest you to know, Matheu says, climbing down the wall onto the ground, then hopping back up onto the table with the grace of a cat. that the building into which your companions have entered is now, currently, on fire.

"Twelve Moons, Matheu!" Phorem says, climbing to his feet. "And my niece?!"

I could not say. She, nor they, emerged again, though two House Deneith men, an injured human female, and the proprietor now stand outside, along with a sizable crowd of gawkers.

"Young Graft," Phorem implores, "Will you look into this?" The old mage looks quite upset.

[Josh]

In Phorem's Tower

"On fire?! Next you'll be telling me they've managed to accidentally raise Khyber itself!"

Grafth stands, pulling together his belongings. "Phorem, you've done much for us this far, the least I can do for you is make sure that Taymra and the others are alright. Promise me, though, that you'll be careful with that blasted book. If anything serious happens, just destroy the thing."

Ready for travel, he looks to the pseudodragon, "Matheu, can you give me directions to this ongoing conflagration ?"

[Jeff]

In Phorem's Tower

The pseudodragon's tail—tipped with its scorpion-like stinger—slides back and forth along the tabletop. Grafth seems to think its the dragonlike equivalent of stroking one's chin while thinking. Or perhaps drumming one's fingers impatiently.

I suppose spotting a bright fire during the daylight hours from above the city would not be as easily accomplished for shifter eyes. Yes, I should bring you there. Come with me, Grafth.

Phorem walks slowly after them both. "Thank you. If your friend returns while you are away—the shifter—I will explain to him what happened. And I will not touch the book, don't worry."

When Grafth reaches the double doors on the lower floor, they swing open. Grafth is left standing upon the stone steps that jut from the tower, his coat and hair blowing in the late summer wind. Matheu lands upon the stone railing, looking slightly impatient. And now we wait for your sluggish floating conveyance.

Grafth is quite concscious of the other tower tops, and the streets, not less than one hundred fifty feet below. The absence of his companions somehow punctuates the empty drop.

I suppose it might have saved us some time if your lycanthropic forebears were winged, Matheu adds. Grafth is pretty sure the pseudodragon's comments are merely matter-of-fact, not intentional slights.

[Josh]

"I imagine that would be quite helpful indeed. But here we are."

Grafth looks around for large plumes of black smoke or anything that might give him a clue as to where he'll be headed. He leans on his short spear as one would a walking stick, and patiently waits for the coach to find him.

[Lara]

Pel kneels over the dead commander's body, examining it by the sunrod's light as she listens to the conversation taking place around her.

"Where are you supposed to meet this person?" she calls out. "And what is his" -- she gestures at the commander with the sunrod -- "role in this meeting supposed to be?"

[Darren]

Following Pel's lead, Kalarian adds, "Yes, and how often had they met like this before?"

[Jeff]

"He was our commanding officer, Captain Raumok," the soldier answers. "Until only a few days ago, we received orders from the Captain's superiors. That's how it's done. But then came the rail incident—I assume that was you? Since then this other man, this agent, came to us directly to oversee the recovery of a book. I guess he didn't want to go through the proper channels to do it."

"Only twice before did he meet with Captain Raumok, and only once did the rest of us see him personally. One of the men in our platoon, Davin....he'd failed in his first orders, so the agent brought him to us, changed into a ghoul....so I think he was supposed to serve as an example to the rest of us of failure. What we'd become if we failed.

"But that's NOT how it's done." There is anger in the soldier's voice. "Most of our platoon don't believe in that Seeker* crap, so we don't care much for such creatures. They're good for the battlefield, not for giving orders in field work. We don't like this agent, this man who bypasses the system. But I suppose his master is the gold behind all of this. Whatever that is."

You genuinely think he's telling the truth.

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* Seekers is the name followers of the Blood of Vol give themselves. The Blood of Vol is a Karrnath-based faith (but certainly not limited to Karrnath) that reveres one's own soul, and blood, not any god. To the Blood of Vol, the gods are pretenders and death is unnatural. Undeath is some sort of martyred path, and the true goal is seeking a way to eliminate death altogether.

[Jeff]

In Phorem's Tower

Grafth scans the cityscape, but even from his vantage can't seem to spot any signs of smoke. It doesn't help that the sun is in his eyes.

It's that way, southwest, Matheu says, pointing his snout in that direction. Beyond the towers and walls of the city, Grafth can also see the vast spread of Lake Galifar.

Soon after, a skycoach swings into view. The Lyrandar pilot, a half-elf with a small Mark of Storm on the back of his palm, looks extremely bored. "Where to?"

[Josh]

"Coron's Brewery, please. The faster the better." Grafth climbs into the skycoach, then turns back to the pseudodragon, "Shall I meet you there, or will you ride along?" Something about the idea of a winged creature riding in the back of a coach amuses him.

[Darren]

"It seems you bear no love for this particular employer, then? Perhaps you'd be willing to help us? Work with us against this man to whom you bear no loyalty, and we will let you return to your outfit unharmed, and with your pride and honor in place. It seems a fine alternative to letting the half-elf use your genitals as a necklace...."

[Jeremy]

Goran chuckles a bit.

"I have no desire for such jewelry." and he looks at the man.

"You probably detected that my heart is not in such torture and bloodshed, but I deem you are shrewd enough to know that I will not shrink from it either, if it is necessary. You appear to have found wisdom in a tight spot. Surely we have known others not so wise.

"I tell you what, agree to my fellow's offer, and instead of pain I will offer a bit of healing, such as I can manage."

It should be noted, however, that Goran's body language and tone, are still somewhat menacing and exuding power. He wants to offer a better alternative to pain, but does not want to embolden the man with apparent weakness.

---

As it turns out...I just like yellow text for the speaking parts. I think it makes it easier to read people's entries when they're segmented that way.

[Jeff]

"Work with you?" Disgust shows on the soldier's face. "You've killed my countrymen"—he looks to the dead commander—"and you expect me to willingly help you? My unit has failed. We will be punished, demoted, or simply unassigned. I can't speak for the Order at large, but I want nothing to do with you."

He looks pointedly to the unconscious man that Goran had taken down. "Let me and my comrade go, and I'll tell you where the rendezvous was supposed to take place. That's all. You'll get no further trouble from us. And that's my advice, d'Deneith. If you just kill us and try to make us disappear, you can't expect you'll hear from the Order again. It does not forget or forgive. This is not a threat to you, merely a fact."

[Jeff]

Outside Phorem's Tower

The Lyrandar coachman gives Grafth a funny stare—you want to go where?—then notices the pseudodragon perched nearby and seems to accept the unusualness of the shifter's request. Perhaps he has seen the fire. At last he nods. "Two sovereigns," he says politely, moving the skycoach to allow Grafth to board.

At Grafth's question, Matheu simply launches into the air. With so much space around him, the pseudodragon looks much smaller. His body slighter than a house cat's, he opens his wings and catches the current.

[Joe]

"Here is another fact," Streko says, approaching the Emerald Claw agent. "We don't forgive or forget either...you made no move to stop your commander from harming a child and you willingly worked for someone who would threaten to change you into a foul, undead creature. You are the lowest filth and don't deserve to live. However, we all have choices...and you made yours. So, it is our turn, wouldn't you agree?"

Streko turns to Kal, allowing Goran to keep the soldier under guard. He reaches back into his pack and pulls out some rope.

"I suggest we tie him up and leave him here. Tie him to his companion. At the very least, he can kick the rats as they come to feast...and we don't have to worry about either of them coming at us from behind...assuming the fire above doesn't allow them to go back up the ladder. That way, they live but are not an immediate threat to us. Oh, and I would suggest a more...thorough...search. Wouldn't want them hiding something that might help them escape quicker and stab us in the collective back now, would we?"

Back to the soldier, Streko sneers. "Your kind can be trusted to do only one thing...and that is to bite the hand that feeds it. I wouldn't trust you for all the Galifars in the Five Kingdoms. While it pains me to see you breathe, I do believe that we are all given opportunities to better our lives. Change how we affect our world. This is your opportunity. Make the best of it and the Soveriegn Host may see fit to make your life better for your effort."

And to Goran, "Do you agree, my friend? Or am I just delusional in my trust of humans?"