Yet Another New Group

So some of the players from the old group moved away from the area and then recently a handful of my old friends moved back to the area, so we invited them to join us, bringing our party back up to four players and one DM, who usually runs an NPC that runs around with the PCs.

I'm taking the DM seat for the first time in a LONG time and running a pre-gen to warm me up. For those of you familiar with Paizo and Pathfinder, we're running the Shattered Star Campaign which, thankfully, none of the players have ever run through. I only have the first installment of the series, but, again, it's a warm-up. After this we may go for seat-of-the-DM's-pants style gaming. We'll see.

As the DM, I'm going to try not to give away too much. I am running an NPC outside of the campaign's realm for the pure purpose of a point of contact should the party lose its way. Oh, and that healing thing.

We're two game sessions in, so I may not remember exactly what happened a month and a half ago at the first session. I'm sure they'll remind me of what I leave out, so this blog may change as we move along.

Game play using Open Gaming License. Major plot lines are owned by Paizo, the Pathfinder Adventure Path Shattered Star: Shards of Sin by Greg A. Vaughan.

This author does not claim to have any ownership to any of the characters, places, ideas, or plot herein, aside from the thoughts and voice of the character who speaks in first person point of view and any separate plot line that arises from the NPC I am running.

None of this blog may be reproduced without the express permission of the author/compiler, Amber Manuel.

~

(Note: this scene takes place behind the curtain, without the knowledge of the PCs and before they come into play. This part of the blog aside from specific names of people, gods, and places, are purely from my imagination. Any resemblance to other stories or real life is purely coincidence and fully unintentional.) 

Back in Magnimar again. A part of me wishes I could steer clear of this gang-ridden city, but somehow I am always drawn back. Still, this high up in the city, the streets are clean and regularly patrolled by the city guard. Not that I'd need any of the guard - or anyone - to protect me, but it is still good to relax my guard a little. The nobles I pass give me Looks and I realize I'll meet with the guard sooner rather than later. 

The Temple of Iomedae is naturally my first destination. Though the priestess looks surprised at my appearance, she makes no comment. All who are true followers of Iomedae are accepted here, though my presence makes more than a few uncomfortable, especially since the sun is setting on the horizon. My skin would be taking on a grayish hue at this point in its nightly journey from brilliant white to pitch black. 

I won't get into boring details. Suffice it to say that I closely resemble a Dark Lands native, especially after dark. During the day I am given a bit of a reprieve, though not much of one. I still stand out like a village idiot making a spectacle of herself. Yet anyone foolish enough to mistake me for a run-of-the-mill Dark Lands monster soon learns their mistake. 

The priestess looked surprised when I introduced myself, but apparently tales about me have reached this far since she barely broke her stride. Leading me into a private office off of the main temple, she motions to a plush chair. I shake my head; I need a bath and to clean my armor before I sit anywhere but the ground. 

"I apologize for not allowing you to clean up before we met," she said. "I'm Annoura." 

"The one who sent the missive," I stated. She inclines her head and I immediately tire of the stuffy politics. "What is it you want?" I demand. 

Her eyes widen, but someone has coached her. Instead of puffing up like an affronted peacock, she leans back against her chair and studies me, taking in my haggard appearance. No, there's no mirror nearby, but I don't need one to know I haven't stopped for a bath in the week it took me to get here. Mud and dried blood cake my half-plate armor, but I'm certain my tattoo stands out. 

It always does, no matter the time of day or attempts to conceal it with clothes. 

"Your missive," I state, making sure to infuse my voice with strained patience, "said your needs were urgent." 

"Indeed," she agrees. "Honestly, I thought you were a myth. A Dark Lands elf on the surface is rare. One whose albino skin turns black as sin in the night is unheard of. Yet Iomedae trusts you."

I suppress a snort of disbelief at that, knowing the gesture would be unappreciated in Her temple. My mere presence is bad enough. "What do you need me to do?" I press. 

"Find a woman. She has something we suspect is a great artifact." 

"Who is she and what is the artifact?" 

"Natalya Vancaskerkin is her name. She was working for Sheila Heidmarch according to one of my sources inside the Pathfinder Society, but has gone missing and Sheila is looking for her."

"And the artifact?" I ask again. 

"My source was unable to determine its nature from the conversation he overheard." 

"If it kills me, I'll come back to haunt you," I tell her mildly. She looks affronted, and I grin at her. "I'll start in the morning. What does this girl look like?" 

As I take notes, I notice the priestess fidgeting. She could be nervous by my steadily darkening skin, but I have a feeling that it's something else. The world tips on its axis for a moment, and I stop to glare at her. She lifts her chin. "My source also told me that she has invited several individuals to search for Natalya. They will be meeting tomorrow at the Pathfinder Society." 

"Infiltrate the Socierty, find the girl, bring her back--" 

"Alive," she interjects. 

"--I was getting to that part. And bring you the artifact. Got it." I turn for the door. 

"The artifact actually goes to Sheila." Her words stop me in my tracks. 

Turning, I frown at her. "Why? If this artifact is a big enough deal to catch Iomedae's attention, then why not bring it here?"

"I have only been told that it is to remain in Sheila's possession after retrieval. That is all." 

"What about my pay?" I ask. Her gaze widens again and I smirk at her. "Thought you'd got off the hook, didn't ya? Don't worry; I'll discuss it with our Goddess." Without another word, I head for the paladin bunk rooms to get a bath and some sleep. The warm room noticeably chills when I step through the door as the paladins inside size me up as a foe. Putting my head to the side, I grab my armor and pull it down so that the brand on my neck can be seen clearly. The tension ebbs and I pass through without comment. 

Paladins know better than to mess with an Inquisitor. Well, at least this one. 

New Group, New Players, New Story...

The following is based off of the D20 Modern RPG and is used under the Open Gaming License. All events are from the imagination of the Game Master and are shaped by the individual player characters. Characters were created by the imaginations of the individual players and their backgrounds created by said players. Any similarities to real events, people, or other happenstance are completely unintentional.

The following story is copyrighted by Amber Manuel, the Game Master, and the other players. Without limiting the copyright, no material may be used without written permission except by one of the players, the Game Master, or Amber Manuel.

Disclaimer: the following contains violence and foul language as well as sexual innuendos. Read at your own discretion.

Swiping the gun off the night table, she frantically squeezed the trigger over and over. After several misses, she sat up and focused on her target. The laser finally hit the target and the alarm clock ceased its shrill screech.

With a groan, Alece set the plastic laser gun aside and rubbed her eyes. Another night had been filled with strange, sometimes horrifying dreams. She couldn’t rightly call them nightmares despite the blood, gore, and horror because underlying there was a sense of purpose, as if the battles raging in her mind had to happen. She flicked a glance at the dream interpretation book she had picked up from the Loyola University Campus Library and decided she wouldn’t bother trying to figure this latest one out. After all, the only real change was the scenery. At least she hadn’t scratched herself this time.

Getting up, she stretched as she moved through the second floor of her Garden District duplex. A contract with a major publishing company had allowed the investment though the second floor was in need of additional work. Setting her coffee to percolate, she booted up her computer and logged into her email, stretching while she waited for the programs to load. She would go through a full set of kata later before heading for the street car and the campus where she was in her second year of college.

An email caught her eye. “You coming tonight?”

She smiled. Vick, aka Victor Delacroix, was a friend from high school who lived in the French Quarter off Royal Street. She hadn’t heard from him in a couple months since they were both busy with their own lives, but his email earlier in the week had given her something extra to look forward to.

The old group was back in town just in time for the turn of the century.

She hadn’t really stayed in touch with the guys aside from a few emails here and there. After they graduated and went their separate ways, she had published her first novel. In the years since, she had cranked out three more with the next scheduled to come out shortly after the New Year. Victor Delacroix was working for his father at Veridian Dynamic, a multi-national corporation that dabbled in a little of everything from chemicals and pesticides to R&D, weapons…

Two of the other guys had stuck around the Big Easy as well. One was a regular Doogie Howser. Word was Theodore “Ted” Killjoy already had his residency at Charity Hospital. Then there was Michael Browning, a popular local actor whose skills had him on the rise. The last member of our group had joined the military straight out of high school. He had been gone for years, but Xavier LeBeau must be back in town since Vick was getting them together.

Alece checked the time. It was already past six in the evening. An all-night writing session had left her schedule completely off, but that just meant that she would be awake for the evening ahead. “Wouldn’t miss it,” she typed and went to get ready.

A tiny gated alleyway led to Vick’s place on Royal. Alece arrived to find everyone else already there. As she hugged necks, she realized that everyone looked a little tired as if they hadn’t been sleeping well.

“Bad dreams?” Xavier asked.

“I dunno about you, but I can make some serious cash off the dreams I’ve been having once I turn them into books!” Alece replied.

“Well, now that we’re all here, I haven’t had time to make groceries,” Vick said.  

“Oh, you should’ve said something,” Xavier returned.

“I figure that Mona Lisa is a good restaurant and we could just go there. It’s just around the corner down Royal and we’re far enough away from the festivities that we shouldn’t have trouble with crowds.”

Since everyone was agreeable, they headed down the road on foot. “Hey, you grew boobs!” Xavier said, nudging Alece’s shoulder.

She looked down. “Yeah, it’s amazing!”

“Dude, the last time you saw her, you were so drunk that you were groping her back!” Vick returned.

“Is that what that was about?” Alece said. “I thought he was giving me a massage!”

Laughing, the group continued down the road. “So Mike,” Vick called, “I thought I saw a porn with you in it.”

Mike grinned and started whistling.

“Seriously, I saw one of your plays. It was very good,” Vick added.

“Thanks, we worked really hard.”

“You guys should go see his next one.”

“When is it?” Alece asked.

“Oh, there’s one coming out in February.”

“When’s your next book coming out?” Xavier asked Alece.

“Next month, actually, assuming we all survive the new millennium!”

“And what about you?” Xavier continued, making the rounds on them. “What kind of doctor are you now?”

“Trauma surgeon.”

“So you work in ER?”

“Yeah,” Ted, man of many words, replied.

“So…blood and guts don’t bother you?”

“No.”

“Would your own blood and guts bother you?”

There was a moment of relative silence in the Quarter.

“What kinda question is that?” Alece asked on a laugh.

“Herro, I’m highry inappropriate,” Vick cut in. In normal tones, he continued, “Let me point something out here, Xavier: you never know when you’ll end up on his table. Some stray shit happens and your life is in his hands. Don’t mess with him or he’ll dick you over.”

Xavier eyed Ted for a moment before he shrugged. “So do they issue body armor at Charity or do you bring your own?”

“No, just duck and dodge,” Ted replied with a grin. “I usually leave my piece in the car.”

“I never leave home without mine. It’s like American Express,” Vick chimed in. “By the way, Xavier, I’d like a thanks for the body armor you were wearing over there.”

“That was your dad, Vick,” Xavier shot back.  

“No, it was me. I’m exec over R&D now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Took a couple pounds of weight off the armor. Thought you’d appreciate that.”

“I thought it felt lighter… Thanks.”  

Stepping inside the restaurant, they continued razzing each other while they ordered their pies and found a table.

“So I need to get my hands on another Barrett 50,” Xavier told Vick.

“What’s that?” Alece asked.

“The gun I carried overseas,” he replied for her benefit.

Vick gave him a look. “There’s better stuff out there, you know.”

“Like what?”

“Like… well, not out there yet.”

Xavier laughed and then grinned mischievously. “By the way, not paying!

“Not paying!” Alece shot out.

“Not paying!” Mike and Vick echoed.

“Not…shit,” Ted muttered, to much laughter.

“You still fall for that?” Xavier asked, shaking his head. Turning to Vick, he said, “You remember Sarah?”

Vick blinked for a moment as he searched through deep storage. “Oh the one that got caught in the boy’s locker room?”

“Yeah, that’s her! You seen her around?”

Vick nodded. “Six kids and going through a divorce.”

Xavier’s mouth dropped. “Shit! Six kids?!”

“Two sets of twins,” Vick agreed.

“Holy…”

“Actually, I don’t know what the hell she’s doing.” When Xavier scowled at him, Vick grinned. “Do I look like the FBI?”

“Yeah, actually. Can you get me a job? I need to find a place to put my Marine skills to work.”

“Dude, shoving a ‘sword’ down your throat isn’t qualified,” Vick quipped.

The Marine stared at him for a moment. “Dude, I’ll kick you in the nuts.”

“I wear a cup!” Vick stated.

Xavier nodded. “Nut check!” he called and the rest of the group winced as Vick hit the ground, writhing in pain. Laughing and apologizing at the same time, Xavier tried to help him up. Vick sucker punched him and Xavier landed on the ground beside him.

“I could have sworn I graduated after you guys,” Alece muttered while they both took their time picking themselves up off the floor. Ted disappeared and came back a moment later with ice packs for both. He must have apologized for the scene because the manager didn’t kick them out.

“So you don’t wear a cup,” Xavier stated when they were seated again, and everyone laughed except for Vick.

“I’m gonna start!” he replied seriously.

The night continued with much of the same bantering between the old friends. After nearly two hours of shooting the shit, a group of about six gangers come in. The tallest one was literally about five feet tall flat. The sight should have had its own caption: “When Jockeys Go Wrong.”

Three of the gangers went up to the counter while the others hung back near the door. Alece felt a prickle of unease and was glad she had thought to bring her brass knuckles. New Orleans definitely wasn’t the safest of cities to live in and she had grown up practicing Tang Soo Do, a “street-fighting” form of martial arts.

There were two employees behind the counter that were about the same height as the gangers. One of the newcomers began shouting at the taller person behind the counter.

“You cheated longtooth! We’re gonna fight again for real!” He drew out a knife.

“Whoa!” Xavier called, standing up. “Y’all need to go.”

The tallest glared at him. “Really?”

Sensing trouble, the crowd began getting to their feet and heading for the door. The few gangers who had hung back were blocking the doors and Alece saw them pull out clubs. She put her hands in her pockets, reaching for her brass knuckles and her collapsible metal baton. At the same time, the lights went out. The emergency lights kicked in almost immediately and a yellowish glow cascaded over the crowd. There was a movement that caught Alece’s eye and then the sound of a watermelon being pummeled. Red sprayed the wall and people began screaming.

Ted picked up his chair and swung at the nearest one. It ducked the object even if only barely. Vick reaches into his coat and pulled out a pistol. He fired towards the door as Alece darted towards the closest one. She punched it with the metal knuckles and it dropped like a light. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that all her companions were jumping into the fray. One of the gangers walked up to Ted and managed to hit him over the head. Ted shook his head and glared at the shorter…person.

In the screams and chaos, Xavier calmly walked up to another one that swung at him and missed. Alece didn’t see what happened next, but when she looked again, only Xavier was still standing. Back closer to their table, Michael swung at one of the gangers with a beer bottle and missed. He received a club to the shoulder for his troubles but just shook it off.

Alece moved deeper into the mosh pit of a crowd, dodging people as she searched for another of the tiny gangers. She nearly stumbled over the last, which was already bobbing and weaving in an attempt to avoid being hit by Ted and Xavier. She helped them knock him…it to the ground.

In the sudden silence, sirens could be heard down the street. Alece stared at the one near her feet, blinked rapidly, and looked again.

It wasn’t human.

She looked around and spotted another. It was the same…a familiar form from years of gaming but impossible. They looked almost reptilian with rusty-brown, blackish-colored skin. Their heads were dog-like with small horns protruding and blood red eyes. Rat-like tails stuck out the backs of their trousers.

“You should put those away.”

Alece snapped her gaze to Vick’s. “What?”

He pointed at her hand. “Put those away.”

She glanced down at the brass knuckles she was still wearing. Sliding them off, she followed him back to their table and sat, staring out over the chaos as the police arrived and began taking statements.

“I think I just killed something,” Alece muttered.

There was a beat of relative silence. “My dear, we all just killed things,” Vick replied, then added, “Those are kobolds.”

“What the fuck are kobolds?” Alece snapped. She knew, but her mind was having trouble reconciling the cross between reality and fiction.  

“You’re a gamer,” Vick said patiently. “You know what a kobold is.”

“I know, but that’s not a freaking tail hanging off that thing! That’s not a kobold!”

They argued in hushed tones for several minutes before the police came up to them for their statements. Vick’s pistol was confiscated, as well as a knife that Xavier had been carrying. Alece didn’t tell them about her brass knuckles and they didn’t search her. When they were done talking with the authorities, the group met back up at their corner table, staring at one another as if they couldn’t believe what had just happened.

After the EMTs and police left, one of the kobolds from behind the counter walked up to the group. “I know you have questions and unfortunately, I can’t answer them. I can tell you, however, where to go to get answers.” She held out a card, which Ted took. “The shop is called Sword and Sorcery – Old Books for a New Age. It’s over on Decatur.” She turned and walked away without anything further, straightening tables and cleaning up detritus as she went.

“I don’t know about y’all, but I could use a beer,” Xavier announced.

“I could certainly use something a lot stronger than what they offer here,” Alece agreed.

“I’m going home,” Vick said. “I’ll meet you at the bookstore tomorrow at eight.”

“I think I’m going for drinks as well,” Mike said.

“Yeah, that was a hell of a way to spend New Year’s,” Ted piped up.

The next morning at 8 a.m. found Alece standing in front of Sword and Sorcery: Old Books for a New Age. Spotting Ted and Xavier walking down the sidewalk, she decided to wait for them. A moment after they joined her in front of the shop, Mike jogged across the street.

“Anyone seen Vick?” Xavier asked.

Alece pulled out her cell phone and dialed his home, but he didn’t answer. “He’s not at home,” she announced.

“We could just wait inside,” Mike suggested.

Inside, the shop was set up as a half café, half book store type of thing. Vick was already inside, drinking coffee. There was only one man working at the counter. He looked to be about sixty years old and about six feet tall. He was wearing a tweed jacket over a white-collared shirt and a red bow-tie.

If he hadn’t been so frail-looking, Alece might have thought he was The Doctor.

After ordering coffees all around, they sat down with Vick.

“What the fuck was going on last night?” Xavier demanded.

“I told you.” Vick pulled out an RPG monster manual and flipped the pages over to a picture of a kobold.

“That so didn’t happen,” Alece muttered, wishing her coffee would get there already, but the scarecrow of a shop owner seemed content to take his time.

Xavier rubbed his eyes. “This is crazy. I mean, I’ve been having some really fucked up dreams and then all the sudden we’re fighting real kobolds!”

“What kind of dreams?” Alece asked, striving for innocence.

“I dreamt I was King Arthur one night.”

“No way! I dreamt that, too!”

He frowned. “Did you wake up with scratches on your side?”

“From where the dragon attacked me!” she confirmed.

“It was a banshee, actually,” Vick offered. Everyone turned to look at him. He shrugged. “Just sayin’. It wasn’t a dragon. It was a banshee.”

“Okay, I think you guys need to calm down before I take you all to the loony bin,” Ted said.

“You mean you didn’t have the dreams?” Xavier demanded.

Ted shook his head. “That’s insane, and I’m kinda worried about all of you. I mean, c’mon. Really?”

“How do you explain that at least three of us,” Xavier asked, and met Mike’s gaze. Receiving a nod, he corrected, “Four of us had the same dreams?”

Ted was saved from replying when the store’s patron came out with their drinks. Instead of leaving them and going about his business, he pulled up a chair. “A kobold sent you five,” he said.

The group exchanged glances, Xavier shooting Ted a look of triumph.

“What you saw last night was real,” the man continued in a firm voice. “Our reality, our world isn’t the only world.”

“Are you talking about dimensions?” Xavier asked.

“In the essence, yes. Different realities as such. Whatever you wanna call ‘em. Here, we call the other “dimension” Shadow.”

“Which one are we in?” Xavier demanded.

The man paused, looking disconcerted. “Ours.” He frowned at the Marine. “Every so often doorways open between the realms and creatures beings items wash up on our shores. The tides bring in weird things.”

“Ooh! Magical swords plus 5 coming?” Xavier quipped.

“What’s that?”

“It’s from a game,” Alece told him.

He nodded his understanding and shook his head. “No, that’s not coming. Our realities move in cycles, much like a wave pattern. When the realities move to an apex they’re further apart so the instance of shadow and magic is less frequent. Just the same, when they move closer that’s when we see miracles. King Arther, Merlin, Morgana. Our history is peppered with unexplainable things.”

“So…like, the gods?” Mike asked.

He inclined his head. “Sometimes exceptionally powerful individuals come through the gates who have exception abilities. Sometimes they have exerted their will and power over things and humans. And humans, not to cast us in a negative light, but we weren’t always the most advanced beings on this planet. So obviously we would think people like Hercules were demigods or actual gods. Achilles, Hector, Ulysses, Perseus, so on and so forth. They were all from Shadow.”

“So they came from Shadow?”

“Could have. Or they could be like you.”

Xavier let out a string of curses.

“You might not realize this,” the gentleman continued over Xavier, “but somewhere in your lineage you have Shadow.”

“How do you mean?” Vick asked.

“One of your ancestors was of Shadow. Oh, they might not have been recent, but you have Shadow blood running through your veins. That’s why you could see what was really happening, why you could see the actual beings.”

“You’re saying I have kobold blood?” Alece demanded.  

He rolls his eyes. “No.” He sighed. “There are people who can shape the forces of magic and put them into a physical manifestation. There are those that can call upon the divine favor of gods and channel the power through them.”

“Can you see auras?” Ted asked.

“No. It’s not some sort of hippy mumbo-jumbo.”

“Well, thank God for that!” Alece said on a humorless laugh. “It’s just kobolds running around!” Sobering, she added, “All these things exist?”

“How many books have you read that have dragons?” he inquired.

She shrugged. “How many have I written that have them?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “And where did you base that info off of?”

“Research. Books and history and things.”

“And where did they get that?” he pointed out.  

She stared at him. “It’s all really real?”

He gave her look that told her most of it was. “It’s all based off of some truths.”

“How do you know?” Xavier picked up the conversation when Alece lapsed into silence.

“I’ve read a lot,” he said with a grin. “Let me try to explain it another way. When you go to work in the morning, how many streets do you cross? Can you remember what your coworkers were wearing for the past three days?” They all shook their heads. “We go through life on auto. We see things and forget them. Our brains have a way of helping us cope with situations that just shouldn’t be. That can’t be “x” so it has to be something similar, but not so outlandish.

“Your mind plays tricks and allows you to see what you want to see. You don’t want to admit that there was a dragon that just flew overhead. It was a low-flying 747. The hobgoblin in the alleyway was really just a bum with a bunch of hair. And now,” he continued as the bell above the door jangled, “you automatically see through the veil into Shadow.”

He looked up with a frown as a delivery man walked in rolling a huge crate. Alece frowned at him, trying to see if he appeared anything else than human, but then the stamps on the sides of the crate caught her attention.

“Fragile” was followed by “Do Not Drop” but the most cryptic was “Do NOT Feed!”

“What. Is that?” Xavier asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember ordering anything…” Muttering to himself, he got up and walked towards the crate. As he drew near, one side burst off, a tentacle with a large panel at the end sticking out from either side. The shop owner had barely gasped when one of the tentacles wrapped around his waist.

Alece ran over, snapping out her metal baton as she ran to his aid. She swung, but the writhing tentacles wouldn’t hold still. Ted ran up and grabbed the shop owner, holding him back.

Xavier pulled out a gun, took a shot and hit the box. Mike pulled out a gun as well, taking a shot and hitting whatever was in the crate. Vick joined Ted to help the shop owner get away.

Another tentacle lashed out and hit Mike, knocking him down.

“You got him?” Ted shouted.

“Go!” Vick agreed. Ted let go of the shop owner to run over and help Mike. A tentacle lashed out at Alece and missed. She punched at it with the brass knuckles and scored a hit. Meanwhile, Ted managed to get Mike back on his feet, pulling him back away from the crate. The free tentacle began to flail wildly so that the group couldn’t get a clear shot on the thing.

Vick let go with one arm to pull his firearm and shook into the crate. Realizing she wasn’t doing any good, Alece added her strength to help the shop owner stay out. One last shot splintered the wood of the crate and the tentacles went limp. Vick, Alece and the shop owner stumbled back a few paces before they caught their footing.

“Are you all right?” Ted asked the man.

“I am…rather shaken,” he admitted. “By the way, my name is Brogan. You may call me Mister B.”

Vick emptied his clip into the box. Xavier opened it a moment later and they stared at what looked like a part of a brick wall…with tentacles. “What the—?”

“Who’d you piss off?” Xavier asked.

“That’s an Otyugh,” Brogan said. “A creature of shadow. I don’t remember ordering one.”

“Who’d you piss off?” Alece repeated.

“I don’t know, but I’m very fortunate that you guys stopped by this morning…”

“Why?” Ted asked.

He nodded towards the crate. “That’s the second box I’ve gotten from…PTC. I’ve never even heard of the company.”

“What’s in the other box?” Mike asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I didn’t open it. It’s downstairs.”

“Downstairs? You have a basement in New Orleans?” He nodded. “You must have a good sump pump.”

He just stared at her.

“Okay. We’ll go down and check things out,” Ted told him.

Intermission: “Spaghetti-Os are not a vegetable!!”

“If you are going downstairs, feel free to use a few of the items in the closet,” Brogan told them. In the back corner of the shop was the closet and inside were random sets of armor, baseball bats, knives and random weapons. Alece picked up a bat while the guys tried out different items. When she walked back out, Brogan handed her a shiny brass key that glowed a little bit.

“It opens the trap door behind the coffee stand,” he said. She nodded, motioned to the guys, and moved to where he said. There was a trap door all right, but no key hole. With a shrug, she grabbed the latch and pulled. It door easily opened. She put the key in her pocket as she observed the ladder leading down into a lit room. With a sigh, she headed down, Xavier close on her heels.

The basement was full of crates stacked neatly. As they began to explore, Ted spotted a shattered crate off to the side.

“This room is worked stone, guys,” Alece told them.

No one replied. To the side there was a door that had been shattered. Xavier headed to the door. Ted went for the crate. “The shipper was PTC,” he announced as Xavier disappeared down a hallway. “There’s webbing in the crate, and three web balls that have cracked open.”

“We should follow Xavier, then,” Alece said. Down the short hallway was a left turn and a straight hallway. Not seeing Xavier, Alece kept going down the hallway. When she saw a closed door, she turned around.

“Holy shit!” Xavier shouted to the sound of pounding footsteps. Alece darted back down the hallway, saw a giant spider that had to be at least three feet in diameter and backpedaled. “Oh screw this!” she shouted, a lifetime of arachnophobia sending her darting in the other direction. She managed to force herself to stop to make certain it didn’t follow, and adjusted her grip on the bat she had taken from the closet.

“C’mon! We fought off a tentacly monster upstairs! We can take this!” Mike shouted.

Grimacing in fear, Alece darted back to help out, swinging and promptly missing the huge beast. Vick fired a shot and missed as well. Ted pulled Xavier’s form away from the fray, working to get him back on his feet. A stray bullet pinged off the wall near Alece’s head. Another one pinged off the wall by her feet. In the chaos, Alece finally managed to connect with the bat. Realizing it was dead, she continued to bash it into the floor a couple extra times.

“Hey, there’s a chest in the back of the room the spiders came out of,” Ted announced and worked his way over there as Alece pulled herself away from the grisly remains. She looked around, spotted Xavier back on his feet despite looking rather pale.

“There’s another room down this hall,” Vick announced.

“Let’s go,” Ted said, pocketing a few items but leaving the chest.

There were webs on the walls and ceiling. “I think I see a couple spiders,” Xavier said, and stepped aside so the rest of the group could see.

Vick took aim and fired. One of the spiders fell to the ground, writhing and attempting to get back up. The other came down quickly, and the guys swarmed it. Alece didn’t even have a chance to step inside the room.

“We should check things out, make sure there’s nothing else back here,” Ted said when they were done bashing the spiders to bits.

A brief search turned up a roll of fabric buried in the web in the back. Vick unrolled it and pulled out a longsword.

“Oooh, can I have that?” Xavier asked with a mischievous grin.  

“Do you know how to use one of these?” Vick demanded.

“Pointy end goes through other guy,” Alece chimed in.

Vick shakes his head and hands it to Xavier. “Fine.”

“What was down there?” Xavier asked, indicating down the hallway.

“Another room,” Alece replied. “The door was closed.”

“We have to clear it.” He started down the hall.

With a grimace, she followed. There were webs on the walls. “Possibly more spiders,” Xavier said. “Here’s what we do… I go left, you, Mike, go right. Behind me, I want Ted to come in, heading to the left after Mike’s cleared the door. Then Alece, you veer to the right.”

“And I’ll come strutting up the middle,” Vick said with a grin.

“Sweeping,” Xavier corrected. “Everybody ready?” He threw open the door without waiting for an answer and they ran in as he had described. Alece nearly wet herself when she saw the mothership of all spiders hanging out in the back of the room. It was wider than she was tall, and luckily she didn’t have to go near it since Mike, Xavier, and Vick killed it, and the other two smaller spiders, off.

Small being a relative word.

A brief search turned up webbing all around the room but nothing of value. The group trooped back upstairs.

“What’d you guys find down there?” Brogan asked the moment they emerged.

“Spiders,” Vick replied.

“Fucking spiders as big as my dog!” Xavier snapped.

“Six feet in diameter,” Alece agreed, shuddering. “DIAMETER!”

Brogan nodded. “That’s a big one. I’ve seen bigger.”

She gaped at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. “While you were guys were down there I made some calls about this company and haven’t been able to find anything. Nevertheless, I have an offer for you. You five have experienced more occurrences of shadow in the past twenty-four hours than most people do in their lifetimes. I’d like you to join Department 7.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a department that works with shadow and people in shadow.”

Ted pulled out a couple of small beakers. “Any chance you can tell me what these vials are?”

Brogan observed them for a moment. “Cure potions. Think of drinking one of these as a six-month stay in intensive care.”

“What exactly would we be doing for Department 7?” Alece asked wearily. She was pretty certain  she had had enough of Shadow and the craziness it brought.

“Odds and ends,” he said cryptically. “Various things.”

“Any chance of getting better weapons?” Xavier asked.

“You seem to have faired well enough with what you have,” Brogan replied.

“Something better?” Xavier persisted.

“Go to the local gun store.”

“What’s the recompense?” Alece cut in.

“You would get the ideas for stories. I mean, after this morning, think of the stories you could write.”

She nodded. “I would definitely have fodder.”

“Or become it,” he said with a happy smile and rolled out a scroll.

She took it and started reading. “Looks like a standard employment contract,” she muttered as she continued to read.”

“I think we need to confer on this as a group and figure out what we want to do and get back to you,” Xavier said.

Vick shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. C’mon, guys! How many times have we dreamt of this? How many times have we played and rode off into the sunset? Fought and killed and lived the life? This is REAL.”

He shook his head. “I’m in.”

“You gonna hook us up with the nice R&D shit you were talking about earlier?” Xavier asked.

“Possibly. But this field work isn’t for me. I’ll be your Q.”

“You’re not going to come with us?” Xavier demanded.

“Does Q ever go out with James Bond?”

“When there’s a hot chick around.”

They look at her. She laughs. “Not hot enough.”

“There’s one small catch,” Brogan said.

“What’s your catch?”

“Not mine. But you all have to die.”

There was a moment of silence. “What?”

He looked around the room. “You can’t be an author. You can’t be an actor. You, not a doctor. You… Well, you’ll pretty much do what you’ve always done,” he amended when he looked at Xavier.

“When?” the Marine asked.

“In the next 2 weeks.”

“We have to actually die?”

“Your identity ceases. You don’t physically die.”

“Okay, quit being cryptic. Spit it out,” Xavier snapped.  

Brogan sighed. “Department 7 is going to kill you, make it public, graphic, and violent. You will have a funeral. You can’t be embalmed. After you go into the ground, we’ll dig you up and bring you back.”

“I don’t know that I’m comfortable with this,” Alece said.

“What the whole dying part?” Xavier said.

“Yeah. I worked really hard to get to where I am. I’m not sure about this. I mean…”

“Is your mom alive?” Brogan asked.

Something inside her went still. “Why do you ask?”

“Is she alive?”

“Why. Do. You. Ask?” she demanded.

“Well, if you kill a necromancer or piss one off, she would be in danger. You would be dying to keep your family safe.”

“Do you keep track of shadow-bloods?” she returned.

He frowned. “No. But, just so you know, you can see the shadow, and the shadow can see you. Not all of them will be innocent and leave you alone. They’ll know.”

“Are you asking us or telling us to join?” she demanded.

“You don’t have to join. But you won’t have any help should you encounter one of those who can see you, knows you can see it, and isn’t going to just leave you alone.”

She threw her hands up in the air. “I can’t make this decision right now.” Handing back the bat, she walked out into the sunshine. She kept her gaze on the concrete, not wanting to see anything that could possibly endanger her. It had been a crazy evening and an even crazier morning. Spiders just didn’t come in those sizes, and what the hell was up with the tentacled thing? Was she losing her mind?

But no, the guys had seen it, too.

She shook her head. She had worked damn hard to get to where she was, and she was being asked to toss it all away to live a life doing…what? Brogan hadn’t exactly been very forthcoming about what Department 7 would demand of them. Would it be escort services? Not the dirty kind, but the secret service kind. Would they have to hunt down and kill beings from Shadow that had gone of their rockers, so to speak?

All of the above?

Xavier fell into step beside her. “Wanna beer?” he asked.

She nodded, scowling at the ground. “Yeah. I could use something stronger.” And maybe tomorrow she would wake up and this would all be a dream.

Right. She had a feeling she had stepped straight into one of the dreams and wasn’t going to be able to wake up anytime soon.

Taking Off in a New Direction. Literally, Guys. Completely Different Game.

Just a quick post to apologize for the delay between posts! There have been some crazy stuff going on in the world lately as you are well aware, I'm sure, but a lot of craziness has been going on in the life of two of our group that has put things on pause for a bit.

In short, we're taking a break from the current Pathfinder game.

We have started playing a D20 Modern campaign and we are going to share those episodes with you as we move along the journey of absolute OMGWTF?! Yes, we have often asked the DM if we can roll a "Knowledge: WTF?"

In closing, I hope you enjoy the new adventures!

In the Aftermath of the Demon

NOTE: THIS STORY IS BASED OFF OF THE PATHFINDER RPG. SOME COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HAS BEEN USED UNDER THE OPEN GAMING LICENSE RULES.

Storyline by Justin Groby

Compiled by Amber Manuel

Last time on Dice vs. DMs…

The companions arrived back at the Temple of Saranrae to find it half-collapsed and the clerics inside all dead. Something is going on with Osamu, but they’re not entirely certain what.

While the clean-up effort begins, Firro goes renegade to “get some answers.” The party regrouped and decided to finally go after the second seal, a task which was much easier than expected.

Tyota’s arrival at the second seal’s hiding location was not unexpected. But the arch demon that inhabited the armor called forth from the three seals certainly was…

While Tyota glared at Lilianna, Osamu vanished. “Was this what you wanted to accomplish?” Lilianna demanded.

There was a click and Osamu reappeared holding a gun against Tyota’s head.

“So you’re going to kill our only information source?” the cleric snapped at him.

Ignoring her, Osamu pulled the trigger again. The hammer released, but nothing happened. He glared at the gun and then lowered it.

Tyota’s eyes rolled back into his head and he crumbled. Firro ran over to him and rolled him over onto his stomach. Tying him up, she kept an eye on her companions in case someone else attempted to attack him.

Osamu let out a long sigh.

“You’ll get your revenge after we speak with him,” Lilianna declared.  

“No torture,” Firro interjected.

“Why not?”

“It’s not honorable,” the new paladin declared.  

“What about putting a curse on him and then threatening to not remove it unless he answers my questions?” Lilianna suggested.  

“No!”

“What? It’s not cruel or unusual!”

“Yes, it is!” Firro insisted. “It’s torturing him by letting him think he’ll be blind forever!”

“No it’s not!”

“How about we wake him up and try tasking him some questions?”

Lili stared at her, mouth agape. “Am I speaking to the same person who wrenched Zarzu’ket’s already broken fingers to get him to talk?”

Firro sighed and then started as movement out of her peripheral vision caught her attention. Osamu was moving too quick to stop as his blade thrust down towards Tyota’s head.

There was a brief, horrible pause. Firro stood and pulled her new blade in one smooth motion, holding it up against Osamu’s neck. “Don’t move!” she snarled.

Lilianna pulled out the blade, casted breath of life and said, “For the fate of the world can you wait five minutes, Osamu?! You guys do realize that the armor was separated for a reason? And he knows why!”  

With a gasp of air, Tyota came back to life.

“For the fate of the world he should remain dead!” Osamu returned.  

Gerard cast daze, but it didn’t seem to have any affect on the ninja.

Firro swung at Osamu, pushing him back a few paces despite missing with the blade.

“Shit just got real!” Gerard laughed.  

“You want info?” Osamu snarled. “You can get it at a temple in a town east of here that was burned to the ground. The armor will be there!”  

“How do you know that?”

“There was a legend from my clan, of a great warrior, one of forged a blade of ice,” he pulled out a blade and it iced up, “and one of fire.” He inclined his head to the blade laying beside the trussed up Tyota. “This great warrior only fought when necessary. He was one day defeated by a giant of a warrior wearing blackened armor.”

“And that’s where the demon is?” Lilianna demanded.

“At the shrine,” Osamu agreed. “The legend continued…every 10,000 years or so this thing would come and attack the village and destroy it until one day a great and powerful sorcerer locked it away. In doing so, it killed him. That sorcerer was grandpa. Shrine was built in his honor.

“The armor is back in my home town.”

“How do we defeat it?” Gerard asked. “Demons are immortal.”

“We can’t kill it but can imprison it,” Lilianna said, and frowned at Osamu. “It’s been in you. So your grandpa imprisoned it inside you?”

“I guess so,” he reluctantly agreed.

“And why are you just telling us?” she demanded. “We’ve known about this for a day now… Last night! Why didn’t you say anything last night?!”

Osamu grinned.

“You should be glad I love my goddess…” she snarled in returned.

“We should go to the town for the fate of our known world.”

Firro adjusted the blade away from Osamu. She was concentrating on detecting evil, but it wasn’t coming from the ninja any longer. “You can wait,” she said and focused on the evil to his left.

Osamu turned and began to walk away. “Follow if you want. I am going.”

Lilianna put a dagger to Tyota’s throat. “If you don’t tell her what I want to know about the armor I will kill you!”

Tyota gazed impassively at her. “Don’t let him get the armor,” he said.

“I don’t think anyone should have the armor,” she returned. “That’s my goal.”

A red beam came out of the area that Firro was focusing on and hit Tyota. The ninja was suddenly completely still. He looked as if he were frozen in time.

Firro lifted her blade higher as the perpetrator appeared. “It’s a quasit demon!” she called.  

“Hm, someone released a deeeemoooonnnn!” it growled in a high-pitched rumble.

Firro started to swing at it and it shrieked. “I’ve got information!!”

Her inner bard cringed at the loss of information and she pulled her swing. “What kind of information?” she gritted.

“Where it really is!”

“What really is?”

“Information doesn’t come without a price.”

She let out a growl. “What is your price?”

“A favor to be determined later.”

“I don’t deal that way,” she returned. “Either tell me what you want right now or deal’s off.”

“But I have much information you will find interesting! I won’t cause you to go against your morals, paladin!”

She attacked it, her new sword lighting up with blue white holy light. The demon fell to the ground, shrieking in agony. A moment later it disappeared. Firro stabbed the sand where it had lain. Tyota jerked and began breathing again.

“The armor,” Lilianna snapped at him, picking right back up where they had left off. “Tell me more about it!”

“Whoever wears the armor can take possession of the demon and control it,” he said.

“A relic with a demon in it?” she murmured.

“The demon uses the armor to gain a solid form. And Osamu might be right about it being at the shrine.”

“How can you know that?” Lilianna asked him.

“The demon that was inside him destroyed our hometown. It decimated everyone and everything in its way. There was very little left and there may be something of it left inside him!”

“The demon is our priority,” Firro said.

“We can’t destroy the demon, though,” Lilianna told her. “We can only send it back where it came from. How do we defeat it?”

“There is a way to destroy it,” Tyota said. “You should let me come with you.”

Firro concentrated on him, finding him full of evil, but saying what he truly believed to be the truth.

“We can’t trust you,” Lilianna told him.

“Don’t kill him until I get back,” Firro said.

“Where are you going?”

“To pray,” Firro replied. She walked off to go pray inside the temple but didn’t even get there. She froze barely halfway there. “It’s okay to kill Tyota,” the weapon still in her hand seemed to say in the voice of the goddess Iomedae. “It is the right and honorable thing to do. He is not redeemable and will only use you and your friends for further evil deeds if allowed to travel with you.”

Firro was filled with the desire to kill Tyota. He was not redeemable. She knew it. She had hoped he had more information, however.  

She raised an eyebrow at the sword, turned around and walked back to Tyota. Without a word, she stabbed the assassin. As the lights in his eyes went out, she felt this almost euphoric feeling of vengeance. Vengeance for Kyaer, for Majet, for the clerics who had died because of what Tyota had done.

And, undoubtedly, for many others as well.

“What the hell was that?”

“Iomedae’s will,” Firro replied, meeting the cleric’s stunned gaze. Near the horses, Osamu was laughing maniacally.

Lilianna shook her head. “Fine.” Getting up, she walked over to Osamu and began speaking with him. Firro glanced down at the body of Tyota before cleaning and sheathing her sword. Then she walked over, picked up the seals, and moved to ready her horse for travel.

“Tyota was talking about the demon killing the clan,” Lilianna was telling Osamu when Firro handed her the red seal. “It’s not that far of a stretch that the seal was breaking and the same thing that happened at the church may have happened before. You have to do the right thing when the time comes.”

“The wrong must be righted,” Osamu agreed. “Where it started it shall be finished.”

She nodded in agreement. Glancing at Firro, she said, “We need to get our armor fixed before we can go anywhere.”

“We don’t exactly have time to wait for it to be repaired,” Firro replied.

“I have a spell that can summon an angel for a boon. It will require something in return, but I believe I can bargain with it to get something we both can afford.”

Firro took a deep breath and nodded.

Walking a little ways away from the horses, Lili began the spell. A few moments later a bright light announced the arrival of the celestial.

“Who disturbs me?” a voice like the crypt keeper demanded.

As their eyes adjusted, the party could make out the eight-or-nine-foot tall form of a dog standing on its hind legs. A pair of huge wings came out of its back and a massive sword was strapped to his hip.

Lilianna began by explaining why she had summoned the angel. “I would like to bargain for a boon,” she added, and mentioned the armor.

The monstrous angel seemed to think for a moment. Then, “The dark armor will be turned over to Saranrae. Do not even think to break this pact.”

“Agreed,” Lilianna said.

It disappeared as quickly as it came and, looking down, Firro and Lilianna discovered that their armor was not only restored, but appeared brand-new.

“That was fairly painless,” Firro commented.

“We need to pass through Mohito and get our magic items,” Gerard said.

“We need to check on the temple, too,” Lilianna said. “And my followers.”

“We should also check on the mine,” Firro mentioned.

“We will on the way,” Osamu said. “But we should go now.”

No one disagreed.

TO BE CONTINUED...

The Price of Redemption

NOTE: THIS STORY IS BASED OFF OF THE PATHFINDER RPG. SOME COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HAS BEEN USED UNDER THE OPEN GAMING LICENSE RULES.

Storyline by Justin Groby

Compiled by Amber Manuel

Last time on Dice vs. DMs…

A plan to go to the southern cave in an attempt to retrieve the second seal is pushed to the wayside when Majet is brutally murdered right before the party’s eyes. After a brief chase, Firro is the first to catch up to the beast, only to find it asking for mercy.

Meanwhile, Osamu meets up once again with his nemesis Tyota. With a sudden focus of all his anger, Osamu charged the other assassin, revenge within his grasp.

When the beast gives up information, including that Tyota was meeting with Osamu, the party quickly exacted justice for the lives of Majet and Kyaer and undoubtedly countless others. Just as quickly they turned heel and rushed back to the Temple of Saranrae to aid their companion…

The ground shook underfoot as Firro rushed back towards the Temple of Saranrae on Lilianna’s heels. As they rounded a corner and emerged from the alleyway, they could see a strangely glowing blue dust settling in the distance. As it cleared, the walls of the temple came into view, a portion of them collapsed as if an explosion had gone off within.

The blue glow remained behind after the dust settled, shimmering off a man in ragged remains of clothes. He had a knife sticking out of his back and he turned as the party slowed to a halt nearby. Red and gold eyes glared at the group with malicious intent.

Then, blinking, Osamu collapsed.

Lilianna ran forward and knelt beside the fallen man. Pulling the knife out of his back, she pressed her hands to the wound and gasped at the heat pouring off Osamu’s body. Why was he so hot? It was unnatural, but he was beginning to slowly cool…

She poured her goddess’s healing power into the man and watched as the wound disappeared. When he remained unconscious, she checked him for other issues. He was dehydrated, so she gave him some of her water, working his throat to make him swallow.

Firro began to dig through the rubble for survivors. Finding the head priestess of Saranrae, she felt angry resolve convalesce within her core. The woman hadn’t just been killed. She had been brutally murdered, stabbed repeatedly from a weapon similar to Osamu’s.

Firro glanced back to where Lilianna was taking care of Osamu with a frown. His weapon was obviously bloody, but had he or Tyota done this? What in the name of Iomedae was going on?

She moved along and found two additional bodies. The other two clerics of Saranrae. Their deaths had been quick. Firro could tell someone had snuck up behind them and slit their throats cleanly.

A merciful death, considering the alternative.

These two were killed first, Firro assumed from their locations. It looked like the Head Priestess had walked into the room with Osamu and hadn’t lasted long.

Tyota was nowhere to be found.

Firro walked over to Lilianna, who was still leaning over Osamu.

“Everyone’s dead,” she said shortly.

Lilianna looked up, startled. “What? The clerics? The high—?”

“Everyone,” Firro said shortly. “Looks like his blade – or one similar – killed your high priestess.”

Lilianna looked back down at the still-unconscious Osamu and sighed. “I do not know what happened here, but I will find out.”

Behind them, rubble moved. A dirty, befuddled Celestine emerged. Lilianna blew out an obviously relieved breath. “What happened?”

The gnome shook her head with one hand to it. “I’m not sure… It looked like it was going to be a seriously nasty fight, so I made myself invisible. Then… I’m not sure what happened after that.”

“Are you all right?” Lilianna asked. She stood and checked the gnome out for any injuries. After a brief healing, she instructed the gnome to go find some of the guard to let them know what had happened there.

“I’ll go with her,” Firro said, her mind running ahead to her next course of action. She allowed Celestine to run ahead of her and broke off, headed for the tavern. Inside, the common area was nearly empty. She moved to the barkeep and nodded to his greeting. “The bards I normally dance with. Are they staying here?” At his nod to the affirmative, she pulled out a few gold coins. “Tell me what rooms they’re in.”

He took the coins and pocketed them. “Upstairs, first door on the left.”

“Thanks.” She turned and darted up the steps. Knocking on the door, she stood off to the side. When that didn’t receive a response, she took out her sword banged on the door with the hilt.

“All right! I’m coming!”

She listened to the muttering and cursing from the other side until he opened the door. His eyes widened in recognition and then in fear as he saw her weapon. She shoved him into the room, kicking the door shut and slammed him against the wall.

“What have you been telling people about me?” she snarled with the blade of her sword to his throat.

“N-nothing!” he stammered. “I swear!”

“My group members!” she shouted. “Have you talked to anyone about any of us?”

He shook his head, his eyes frantic. “No!”

“What about the other bards?” she snapped.

“I don’t know. Honest! You’d have to ask them. They’re in the next rooms!”

She could tell he was telling the truth. With a sigh, she slowly lowered the sword and backed off. “Talk to anyone about any of us and you’ll have to answer to me,” she snarled.

“I got it!” he said, holding up his hands.

She nodded. Feeling a twinge of conscience, she shrugged. “Have a good day.”

He scoffed as she walked out. She could hear him muttering curses on the other side of the door as she went to the next room. She felt a twinge of guilt but shoved it to the wayside. The bards had known they were coming here and then, just after they arrived, all hell broke loose. She had to know for certain who – if anyone – they were talking to. And she had to make certain they weren’t going to talk to anyone.

And after that, she needed some divine guidance.

Gerard heaved some rubble with the help of one of the civilians that Lilianna had organized in a clean-up effort. Setting it outside, he stared at the breaks in the stone, trying to discern how the wall had come to collapse. Was it an explosion? He couldn’t see any traces of components that would cause an explosion, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t any…

“Where’s Firro?” he heard Lilianna ask.

“I don’t know,” Celestine replied. “She disappeared.”

Gerard looked over, curious at the new development.

“Define disappeared,” Lilianna gritted.

“She fell behind me as I ran to get the guards,” Celestine said. “When I turned, she was no where in sight.”

There was a tick of silence from the cleric. “You’re saying that you outran Firro. The bard who can dance along faster than she can run?”

“Yeah…”

Lilianna shook her head and met Gerard’s gaze with an “I’m gonna kill her” look in her eyes. He smirked.

“What happened here?”

He looked up to find a tall human male with the insignia of the city watch on his chest standing over him. From the rank on the guy’s shoulder, this had to be the captain of the watch.

“Still working on that,” he replied. “Some sort of drastic redecoration effort, apparently, but we’re still working on it.”

The man glanced around with a scowl. “I don’t know about any ‘redecorations’ but I’ve been getting reports of explosions and some person with blue wind coming off them showing up. Then people meeting your descriptions,” he said, his gaze taking in Lilianna, Alondra, and Celestine as well, “showed up here. Where’s the fifth person?”

Lilianna stepped in. “We weren’t actually here when my goddess’s temple was destroyed,” she said in an even tone. “We were chasing after a beast that had just killed one of our friends.”

“What kind of beast?”

“An Intellect Devourer.” At his blank look, she explained, “It looks like a brain on four legs.”

“I heard about that thing! Two of my guards came running up screaming like little girls about some monster knocking them over as it ran past. You all chased that thing down?”

“And killed it,” Lilianna agreed.

He nodded. “All right, but where’s the fifth member of your party?”

“She went to the tavern to gather our things from a couple nights ago,” Lili quickly invented. “We had stayed here in the temple last night, but we hadn’t checked out of our rooms.”

“Name?”

“Is something wrong?”

“Should something be wrong?” he returned.

She squared her shoulders. “My church has half-collapsed, my high priestess is dead along with the other two clerics who resided here. Of course something’s wrong! Did something happen to my friend while she was headed out to get our belongings or not?”

“I’m just getting names for my report,” he soothed.  

She visibly relaxed. “Filayne is who went to gather our gear from the tavern.” She introduced the rest of them as he jotted a few notes down with a charcoal pencil.

“All right, I’d like to talk to the fifth person. This…” He stared at the name he had written down.

“Firro?” Lilianna said.

He scowled at her. “Who’s Firro? You told me Filayne a moment ago!”

“Firro’s Filayne,” Lilianna explained. “She’s a bard who dances and that’s her stage name.”

Gerard buried a grin behind his hand.

The captain was still frowning, but nodded. “All right. I need to talk to some other people.”

“I need a runner,” Lilianna said before he could turn away. “Could you or one of your men get one for me? I need to send a message to Yenmass to the Temple of Saranrae there to send help.”

He nodded. “I’ll have someone come talk to you.”

She nodded. “May you go with the light of Saranrae.”  

They watched the man go for a moment. Then, “I’m going to sell the tome,” Gerard said. “I’ll be back in a while.”

Lilianna nodded. “The quicker we can get to the next seal and get out of here, the better. It would be best to have the tome sold now. Let me know what you find out.”

Using her hat of disguise, she gave herself a new appearance. With red hair and different features, Firro stepped into the Temple of Pharasma. She wasn’t certain if anyone here could answer any of her questions, but she didn’t trust the clerics at her temple and the ones she had trusted at the Temple of Saranrae were dead.

She wasn’t certain there was anyone she could trust anymore. Except Iomedae of course. But she didn’t have a direct link to speak with her goddess at the moment.

Not being able to ask for divine guidance from her own goddess was seriously hindering her actions. Okay, honestly, she was still acting on pure instinct and adrenaline from the shock of waking up next to her dead husband. The bards were certain to never trust her again, let alone work with her, and she was acting like a paranoid delusional type. But who could she trust? Anyone could be one of those things.

It had been living inside Kyaer. It would have stayed in Majet if it hadn’t been discovered that something was wrong with her. Who else could be walking around with one of those things lodged inside them? It had spoken of bringing people home to a family. How many of those things were running around?

When a priest approached her, she allowed him to guide her to a seat. People were leaving the temple from a ceremony, she assumed as she turned to the man. She had seen him before when she had come to see Majet, and was doubly glad she had disguised her features.

When Gerard walked away, Lilianna noted that Osamu was stirring. No, scratch that. He had probably been awake for a while now. She grabbed him under the shoulders and began dragging him out of the rubble to a more secluded area. She didn’t want anyone to overhear her while she questioned him.

“Need help with that body?” someone called.

“No, thank you,” she returned quickly and hefted him easily over her shoulder. “I got it.” She set him down a good distance from the main work area and frowned when his eyes stayed closed. “I know you’re awake,” she snapped.

He took a breath and opened his eyes. Stared at her for a moment before looking around.

“What happened?” she demanded.

He shook his head.

“Corpses are all over the place and you’re the only one left alive,” she told him.  

“Bad juju powder?” he muttered.

She glared at him. “My high priestess is dead and so are the rest of the clerics who worked here. The temple is half-destroyed! What! Happened?”

“I am just as confused as you are,” he told her.

She could tell he was telling the truth but there was something else, too… Casting a spell, she noted that there was something dark hidden within him. Some sort of evil deep in his aura. But he wasn’t evil himself. Just…something inside him…

“We’ll come back to this,” she said as the work shifted their direction. “For now, help clean up because I have a feeling you’re connected to this mess.” She held out a hand to help him to his feet.

Gerard walked past a red head shifting rubble near where Lilianna and Osamu were working and tapped the cleric on the shoulder. “Found a buyer for the tome,” he said when she turned. “Thought I’d talk to you and Fellatio about what you want since it’s a trade in goods.”

“It’s Firro.”

He turned to find the redhead looking at him.

“Do we know you?” Lilianna asked.

The redhead pulled a hook up over her head and looked at them. In a flash, Firro’s face appeared.

“Why are you disguised?” Lilianna hissed.

“I’m incognito at the moment,” Firro said, the red-headed guise settling back over her.

“Hi Incognito,” Gerard said. “I’m Gerard.”

“Why didn’t you stay with Celestine?” Lilianna demanded as Firro’s visage disappeared behind the red head disguise.

“I had questions I needed answered,” Firro replied. “And besides, I didn’t say I would go with Celestine.” She paused. “Okay, I said I would go with her, but I didn’t say I would stay with her.”

“Where did you go then?”

“Around.”

Lilianna growled in frustration. Osamu and Gerard glanced at each other.

“We’re gonna go get a drink,” Gerard said. Without waiting for a reply, they left.

“Well, you shouldn’t have gone off,” Lilianna continued without sparing them a glance. “We need to go get the seal now.”

“I think we’re being set up,” Firro replied to that, lowering her voice. “I don’t think we should go without more questions answered.”

“The angel I spoke to said the seal was in danger.”

“Imminent?” Firro prodded.

Lilianna paused. “He…wasn’t that specific.”

Firro blew out a breath. “I don’t like it. But…it does appear to be the only clear path left.”

“Exactly!” Lilianna said with the air of someone finally getting what they wanted. “We need to follow the path that we have!”

“Okay,” Firro grudgingly agreed.

“Celestine, go get supplies and the horses ready. Meet us at the tavern when you’re done.”

“I don’t think I should go in the tavern,” Firro said.

Lilianna stared at her. “What did you do?”

“I got answers to some of my questions,” Firro said evasively.

Lilianna rubbed her temples. “It’s not like you can’t disguise yourself!”

“There’s a certain number of people in our group. Just because one of them changes their features doesn’t mean certain people aren’t smart enough to figure out that’s the same person.”

“Then go help Celestine with the horses,” Lilianna snapped. “Wait! Promise you won’t go anywhere else but the stables and the tavern.”

Firro grinned. “I promise.” She fell into step with Lilianna and broke off near the tavern door. The moment Lilianna stepped in, Firro heard, “We already told your other companions – the guys over there – that we didn’t talk to anyone about any of you! Okay?”

Three hours later the party entered the foothills of the mountains. Above them dark thunderheads had gathered and rolled as if the massive clouds would let loose at any moment.

“There shouldn’t be a storm at this time of year here in the desert,” Alondra said. “We should find a place to camp before it starts.”

“Look at that,” Gerard said, pointing.

Off to the side was a section of worked stone carved into the side of a foothill. The party made its way up the slope towards the ruins. There were scars in the carved stone pillars, most of which littered the ground.

“There was a battle here,” Gerard said. “Nothing recent. But it looks like some sort of magic carved this portion of the stone out of the ground. Over there looks like something heavy hit it.” He looked across the ruin, his gaze taking multiple scars in the stone. “There’s a door. At least…it has handles like a door.”

The tall stone was one solid piece with no cracks where a set of double doors would normally have them. Two handles rested in the center of the stone beside one another.

“Szarkai,” Firro said, walking up to them. Nothing happened. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the handles and pushed. Nothing. Pulled. Nothing. She turned to Lilianna, who tried with the same result.

“The symbol here,” Lilianna said, studying the green circle with three crescent moons beside it on one side. “It’s ancient. The tome Kyaer gave me had this symbol. It was the symbol of Aroden.”

“Iomedae’s god before she ascended to become a goddess herself,” Firro said, picking up the story. “Aroden was the god of all humans, but he was killed. She took over.” A thought occurred to her. “Maybe Celestine should play the lyre? I don’t know how, but she does, right?”

“It’s worth a try.”

Firro pulled off her pack and took out the lyre, handing it over with regret filling her at the memory of her husband. Celestine strummed the strings once and then began picking out a tune that none of them had ever heard before. It was a hauntingly beautiful melody and expertly played.

Before Celestine, the doors cracked and shifted open. She kept playing, her hand moving as her gaze stared fixedly, as if in a trance.

Firro looked inside the chamber as a familiar presence touched her. Her prior days spent as a paladin rushed back to her. “I am not worthy,” she murmured sincerely.

The chamber, which had halfway fallen in on itself, was filled with Iomedae’s presence. She quickly divested herself of the sword she had bought when she began her descent into the shadowy realm of spying. She held it out to Gerard, who shrugged and took it. Then she stepped inside, her gaze going to a raised pedestal. Atop the pedestal was a sword sticking out of a carved stone slab.

Light grew inside the chamber. Firro watched as Celestine walked into the room. The light grew more as she continued playing.

Firro began to pray to Iomedae, seeking guidance. Perhaps here, in this chamber filled with the goddess, she could reconnect with her. Celestine walked up to Firro and in words that she felt she should not understand said, “I offer you what you seek but understand that once you pull the sword, you must stay the course.”

The words didn’t sound like any language Firro had ever heard, but somehow she understood them. Celestine pointed at Firro. “Once you pull the sword, I will give you what you’re seeking but understand it has a heavy cost in return.

“The choice…is yours.”

Firro stared at Celestine as the gnome’s eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed. Lilianna immediately knelt at her side. Firro’s gaze was drawn to the sword and she found herself stepping around the gnome towards the steps beside the pedestal. As she started up them, she found each one harder to take than the last until she was finally at the top, breathing hard, standing over the sword. Its hilt was blue wrapped with gold and its lustrous blade contained four blue gems, each one smaller than the next.

She could feel the weight of the atmosphere around her, could feel the weight of the decision resting on her shoulders. If she took this sword, there was no turning back. If she took this path, she would have no choice but to follow it for the rest of her long, lonely life.

The path she never should have stepped away from to begin with.

She grabbed the hilt and heaved. It slid out easily on a gust of wind that filled the chamber. Raising the sword straight up as a beacon for her god, Firro felt the atonement wash over her. She no longer felt any remorse, regret or guilt for past decisions. She no longer felt guilt over the death of her husband. She felt ready to continue on the path of Iomedae. She felt ready to avenge Kyaer’s death in Iomedae’s name.

Lowering the sword, she stared at it for a moment in awe. She couldn’t yet bring herself to set it down or sheath it. Looking at the pedestal it had so recently occupied, she saw a green jade seal with the same marking as the one on the door: a circle of green with three crescents beside it on one side.

Turning, she walked down the steps and held the seal out to Liliianna. “The second seal,” she said.

Lilianna’s fingers closed around the seal but she hesitated with a frown. Releasing it, she met Firro’s gaze. “You hold on to that.”

Inclining her head, Firro stuffed the seal down her armor shirt. Then she took off the hat of disguise. “Anyone want this?” she asked. “I no longer need it.” Could no longer use it knowing the deception it created.

Celestine raised her hand eagerly and Firro tossed it to her. The gnome immediately put the hat on and it became a barrette.

“We should head back,” Lilianna said. “Do you all think we should head back to Yenmass?”

“What about the tome?” Gerard asked. “I have something being made that won’t be ready until tomorrow.”

“Then we go back to Mohito.”

Firro stepped across the temple’s threshold and hit her knees as pain worse than anything she had ever felt before gripped her body. It was as if her bones were trying to rip away from her and burst through her skin. She braced herself on her hands to keep from collapsing from the pain that was so agonizing she couldn’t utter a single sound.

“Firro?” Lilianna said. “Are you okay?”

Firro finally managed to gasp in a breath. The torturous pain slowly began to recede. “Ow! That…hurt!” she breathed dumbly.

There was a moment of silence. “Why the language change?”

“What?” She leaned back on her haunches, panting as if she had just run all the way back to Mohito. “What are you talking about?” She wiped away moisture from her eyes and found blood on her hands. Had blood come from her eyes?

“You’re not speaking in common anymore,” Lilianna said. She turned to Gerard and said something that Firro didn’t understand. He shook his head.

“What did you just say?” Firro asked.

“You didn’t’ understand that?”

“No.”

“You’re speaking in celestial,” Lilianna explained.  

“Why would I be speaking in celestial?” she said. Osamu muttered something and Firro glanced at him. She understood that!

“I need rest!” Lilianna said.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Firro said.

Gerard nodded. “Let’s start back—”

The dark clouds finally burst, drenching the area with a heavy downpour. Lilianna sighed. “No use going anywhere now,” she muttered.

“I’ll take first watch,” Firro said. Assuming she could sit through her watch, that was. She wasn’t going to be able to fight much today, that was for sure!

“I’ll make a fire,” Lilianna said and headed back into the temple.

The rain continued to drench the area through Firro’s watch. When Osamu finally took over for her, she barely had the strength to pull her pack off her back before she fell into the deep trance that served her kind as sleep.

Sometime later, Firro jerked out of the trance. She looked around for the source of what had disturbed her. Gerard was standing at the entrance on watch. He was standing extremely still. Too still.

Movement had her looking over. Lilianna frowned and pointed at the fire. Looking, Firro saw that the flames were frozen, as if they had been painted on a tapestry.

Beyond the fire a jade shimmer appeared and coalesced into the specter of a knight. “You must not allow the seals to come together!” the specter announced. “That you would bring him here is troubling enough!”

“Who?” Lilianna asked.

“Him,” the knight said, pointing to Osamu. “He has a demon inside of him. The armor could release the demon. The three seals cannot come together!”

“Three? We thought there were only two,” Firro said.

“There’s three,” he said with cold assurance.

“Where’s the third?” Lilianna asked.  

“Perhaps we shouldn’t know if they can’t come together,” Firro pointed out.  

“Wise advice.”

“What armor do you speak of?” Lilianna asked.

“The armor comes forth with the binding of the seals. We died to divide them before. YOU MUST NOT ALLOW THEM TO COME TOGETHER!” he boomed.

The cleric and the paladin exchanged a worried glance.

“The last seal is already on the move. You must keep it away from the others. Hide them again.”

“Where?”

“Find a place,” he said. “That he and she are together is a bad thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“The armor can only be brought forth by a high cleric, her,” he said, pointing at Firro, “and the seals.

“Why me? Because I’m a paladin?” she asked.

“No. Because you are what you are.”

She remembered the words from the monster. “Szarkai?”

“Drow,” he said. “Albino Drow. That’s what Szarkai is.”

She frowned, still not understanding the importance of her peculiar ancestry.

“You were bred through magic,” he said. “For one purpose and one alone. To bring the armor back. You must not allow this!”

“What about a good person in the armor?” Lilianna asked.

“Nothing good can come of this armor. It will taint any person attempting to bear it, no matter how good they are.”

There was a long moment of silence. Then, “Thank you for this information,” Lilianna said.

“Grave warning,” Firro muttered.

He nodded and shimmered away.

“What should we do? Attempt to split them up?” Firro said.  

“I’m not certain. If the third is already on the move that means it could be anywhere.”

“Well, I don’t trust the clerics at the Iomedae temple in Mohito so we can’t ask them for assistance.”

“Why not?”

“Remember Rock? Remember how he was always rubbing his shoulder? The cleric I spoke to when I asked about atonement kept rubbing his shoulder exactly like that. I think Zarzuket’s hanging around.”

“I thought he was dead,” Lilianna said.  

“No, I’m pretty certain he’s alive,” she replied. “Atop that, the cleric told me he couldn’t do the atonement spell I was seeking and directed me to come here, to this temple in order to find redemption. I was in shock and not thinking straight when he told me that, otherwise I would have realized that wasn’t right. So I spoke to a priest of Pharasma in disguise with a hypothetical situation, he told me that the components of the spell aren’t that difficult to come by.”

“Maybe the priests at your temple don’t know the spell,” she suggested.

“That’s possible,” Firro conceded. “But I don’t believe in coincidences, and the way he was rubbing his shoulder was exactly the same way that Rock had!”

“Is something wrong?” Gerard asked.

Lili sighed. “Nothing about this is right,” she muttered. Getting up, she stepped outside to pray.

“You guys ok?” Gerard asked Firro. “You were asleep then you were suddenly sitting up.”

“You weren’t moving a second ago, either,” she told him.  

“Huh?”

She just looked at him and shrugged. “I’m not sure what happened.”

“Uh, ok…”

Firro settled back down and said a few prayers herself.

“Wake up!” Lilianna shouted, jolting Firro out of her trance again. It was just beginning to become light outside with the first rays of dawn.

Getting up, Firro drew her weapons just in case and walked to the entrance of the area. Seeing Tyota duck something Lilianna threw at him, Firro darted forward and into the fray.

From behind her came a red crackling ray of energy that just barely missed Tyota. Good. Their companions were up as well. Lilianna cast a spell and a burst of holy light came out of her, washing over Firro without a problem. Around them appeared a couple of shadowy people, holding their hands over their eyes. One had collapsed and lay unmoving.

Jade green light caught Firro’s gaze. Looking down, she saw that the disc hidden down the front of her armor was glowing. Beside her, a similar red glow was coming from beneath Lilianna’s armor.

There was a blue glow coming from a bag at Tyota’s hip. With a grin, he lashed out at Firro even as Lilianna ran towards the open desert.

Firro dodged, but the blade cut her. As her blood spilled, the seal melted a hole in her armor, shooting a beam of concentrating green into a spot nearby, where it met similar beams of red and blue.

The sky darkened overhead. Armor, black as night with oil oozing off it appeared in the center of the light. There was a giant ruby in its center, flat but encompassing the bulk of the breastplate.

Beside her, Tyota began laughing maniacally. “Finally! At last I’ll have my revenge!” A huge scar running down his face appeared, made all the more macabre by the smirk on his lips.

Firro began to dance, rushing as quick as she could past him, shoving her weapons into their sheaths as she went. She grabbed the armor and yelled, “Speedy come quick!” As she began to run with the armor, it whipped around and pulled her back towards Tyota. She fought it, but the pull of the armor to evil was strong.

Gerard darted to her side and cast something on her. She felt stronger, as she had in the tavern the very first day they had arrived.

Then Osamu stepped out of the temple. As one, their eyes were drawn to him as he walked calmly over to where Firro was struggling with the armor. She felt the nasty, dank, greasy feel of evil surge in the air as his eyes turned red and yellow. A bluish aura surrounded him, pouring off of him like steam. He easily pulled the armor away from her with a hand that looked more like a claw.

The armor expanded and grew as something rushed out of Osamu. A concussive blast knocked Firro off her feet. When she looked up, there was something residing in the armor. It was as if a spiritual being had taken up residence, its orange, red and black aura swirling. She knew with a sick dread that this was some sort of arch demon, and not just any demon. She couldn’t be certain which, but knew that it had a name.

It wasn’t just some random peon.

It was the leader that moved the peons around.

All hope of keeping the seals separate forgotten, Lilianna ran back and began casting. Firro felt a wave of healing energy wash over her.

With a scream of rage, Tyota charged the evil incarnate. His blade went through the demon, without any immediate effect. Then the world exploded in black fire, burning Firro where she lay on the sand.

The demon and armor began to shrink in on itself, outlying bits of it rolling inward until it imploded with a small thunderclap. The clouds immediately parted and disbursed as if they never were.

In the immediate silence, Firro looked to see the seals were lying in the sand, glinting innocently in the sunlight. She looked down to find that her armor had a seal-shaped hole in it.

Looking up, she saw Tyota glaring around at her and her companions with disappointed, angry gaze.

Lilianna was the first to recover. “It’s your own fault, you idiot!” she snarled at Tyota.

TO BE CONTINUED…