Hide Your Face

After much searching members of the Black Mask organization which has claimed that they work for Vardama at the behest of someone who calls themselves a prophet of that notable goddess. You stand at the temple of Vardama where an irate cleric is offering you his bit of opinion on the matter. Mainly on the fact that your main witness - a member of that (cult) whom was murdered in the care of the guards. "And how do you like that?!"

Leaning against his Dire Corgi mount, the small Gnomish Knight plucks a few cords on his lute with a bored look on his face. "Indeed I like it not, not even when it is hot. I like it less if a god doth bless. What would you have us do? Make war upon faithful of a God? Even if a they are a fraud. We'd need to walk quite carefully. Lest we end up committing a herey."

"One might assume, ser," says a voice behind and well above Soup's shoulder, "that the fact that we stand at the very Temple the murder claimed to be part of? Might... Cast a pall on the idea of the murderer's faith."

Armed, armored, and clicking her beak in an Egalrin chuckle, Iolaire bobs her head to the irate priest. "As the lad there says... And if this quarry is as dangerous as he sounds, our trackers shall need to be well-defended too."

Arisha is standing in the dark corner of the room when Soup talks. "Depends upon the faithful." Then she shows herself. "If you're worried about heresy....I assure you, you're not." She then looks to Chay. "I'll be working with you as well. The corrupted shall be purged."

Ga'Elian sits astride his griffon mount, listening to the priest. He smiles at Chay's mention of trackers.

Kravar looks grave. "These Masks are skilled and deadly killers," he agrees. "They would be master assassins, if they killed for money and not for their beliefs."

Toha looks about as the group is being given the business by the priest, though her attention drifts to the others in turns as they speak, "They are assassins, their coin's the joy of a job well done fer th'cause." she eventually chimes in, voice low and thoughtful.

"Who is it they truly sserve, ser?" Chay ask of Kravar. The sith-makar nods to the hawkperson and Arisha, and then looks to the warrior who had spoken. He raises his brows--in interest. Then glances from warrior to priest. "One is here to serve, sers. Chay, of the hunter-caste."

Ga'Elian says, "That's the real question."

There's a snort from the little Knight. "Either way, if I'm paid I'll do the deed." A few more notes are plucked. "While astride my brilliant steed. I suppose I do not have so much faith, to take life and deal death without.." Soup quickly counts the other adventurers in the room. "..oh, well of course eighth would have rhymed but there's only seven of us." With a sigh he tucks his lute into a leather pouch on the Dire Corgi's side. "There's a certain lack of literary imperative of late."

Kravar eyes the nearest cleric, then lowers his voice in the tone of one who doesn't want to offend. "Probably this Prophet. But whether the Prophet in turn is serving the Gray Lady's will would seem a question only the two of them could answer."

The cleric meanwhile is listening to the conversation with interest and a little concern. "We hope that you'll find the culprits of this murder, the man didn't tell us much, but he did tell us that a meeting is taking place tonight; though not where." He frowns deeply. "He died before he could mention much at all, and we here suspect that he was murdered so that he wouldn't talk."

The sith-makar shudders. A long shundder, that begins at the shoulder and works down the spine. "That is...often the case, sser." Then.

He pauses. It stretches on long enough that it becomes slightly awkward before he speaks again. "Perhaps your faith is capable of speaking with the dead?" he suggests. "Unless...unless the jaw wass taken, of coursse, sser."

Ga'Elian says, "Mourner, to follow a trail, one must start somewhere. Have you any information that might help us to find the meeting place or tracks that might lead to them... the most recent sightings of any of these cultists?"

"We tried talking to him, but all we got was that he did not know how he died. His last memory was of an obsidian mask. One like it is said the leader of these charlatans wears. Of course we have his belongings if you wish to see them?" He turns and politely orders a page to get them and turns back to you. "We have the location of the most recent murder, but as far as we can tell there's no rhyme or reason to where they happen. Here." He hands Ga'Elian a map. "We did map it out for you so that perhaps you can find a link we did not."

"Of course, sser," the sith-makar replies. He lowers his muzzle a time. Oh, Charn leaves a mark! Has left a mark, though he is not broken. Not yet. He looks to Arisha. "Sser, would you wish mediate upon the mask with me, while our companions prepare?" he asks. "One...one has found it to help, ssometimes, though of coursse..."

Toha doesn't have much in the way of tracking skill, particularly in the more urban wilds she's roaming these days. At best, she figures she can help the actual trackers bring back some of these cultists. She looks to the strumming gnome and ventures a, "What about yer dog? Chance maybe these killers have a special smell or something?" with a couple ringing flicks at the tip of her own nose for emphasis.

"Well perhaps Malfeasance." The Corgi barks at the sound of it's name. "Could track him around by scent. Especially if he smells like food, right?" Soup reaches up to scratch under the giant canine's chin and it lol's it's tongue out happily.

Ga'Elian says, "Thank you, sir." He examines the map quickly then says, "The older a trail gets, the greater the chance that it may be disturbed. Shall we go, companions?"

A moment later the clothes are brought out and the mask itself is offered directly to the sith-makar who suggested that they meditate on it. "We would be happy to help in any way we can.

A moment later the clothes are brought out and the mask itself is offered directly to the sith-makar who suggested that they meditate on it. "We would be happy to help in any way we can.

Kravar looks over the party. "So Chay and Ga'Elian are trackers - and the rest of us protect them." He glances around trying to remember who's suggestion it was.

Ga'Elian hands the map to Chay.

"A booosha booosha boo!" Soup tugs on the fluffy cheeks of his mount as it swishes its tail back and forth. When the clothes are brought he leads the dog over and points. "Scent! Hunt! Seek!" Then there's a squawk from the little Knight as the dog happily snaps up the pair of pants and starts eating them "No! Bad! No, give me those!" Grabbing one leg the little armored Gnome is slowly dragged across the floor as the Corgi flees at the speed of slow, dead man's pants hanging from his mouth.

"Thank you, sers," Chay replies. The sith-makar bows, though it doesn't suit his form at all. Then, holds his arms out for the clothes, the mask. The map is added to the pile. He looks to Arisha and Ga'elian. "Shall we mediate, ssers? While the others prepare?"

He glances over at the corgi then, and for the first time--Chay grins. Well, almost.

GAME: Soup rolls 1d20+5: (18)+5: 23

Ga'Elian asks, "May I also smell those?"

Toha has generally been nebulous on the relationship between noses, mouths 'taste' and 'smell', given some of her old comrades would carry on about smells so bad they could taste. That said, she's reasonably sure 'smell' doesn't quite work like that. She lays her hammer against the wall and tries to jog after the Corgi to try and get it settled down enough to save the pants.

Arisha nods to Chay. "We shall." She then lifts her left arm to inspect. "I'm gonna have to add something to this soon." And she stays off to the side again.

GAME: Ga'Elian casts Bloodhound. Caster Level: 20 DC: 15

For her part, Iolaire seems content to ensure her own tools, aerial blunt instrument that she is, are ready enough for the eventual task before them. That done, she simply settles in to wait for Arisha and Chay to do their thing, projecting an aura of motherly serenity.

Chay thumps his tail to Arisha and then settles to the earth in a crouch. The tail forms the edge of the triad, the legs the fore.

He lowers his head, and breathes in, deeply. Breathes in, the scent of the cloth in front of him, the scent of the mask. Breathes in...until a green mist forms around the sith-makar, around Arisha, around the cloth and masks.

It ends with, "...thank you, Hunter." A prayer to the Hunter Dragon, that. He...almost smiles. Almost. But some scars rob you of too much.

"This is not dignified!" The little knight cries out as the Corgi begins to gain speed. Dodging around Toha with a swish of its tail and twinkle in it's eye. The canine continues sniffing around the room then trotting out into the city itself. "I think he has the scent!" Soup announces as he's surfing behind the trotting dog monster. "Oh no, why? Why is it always.." The rest of his words are lost as the mount begins to make a beeline to the nearest sewer access. Soup clings for dear life, a little dust cloud flying up in his wake as the pair speed away.

GAME: Arisha rolls survival+4: (4)+15+4: 23
GAME: Arisha casts Bloodhound. Caster Level: 8 DC: 16

GAME: Ga'Elian rolls Track+Urban+8: aliased to Survival+4+10+5+Urban+8: (16)+31+4+10+5+Urban+8: 74

The trail leads you to follow the corgi. Those of you with the ability to understand what you are smelling will recognize not only the scent of the man who wore the clothes, but the scent of poison on them. A particular poison which Ga'Elian recognizes as one which once felled him in combat and left him asleep for the first time ever. With that scent in mind you step down into the sewers, finding that the sewers are much cleaner than they might be expected to be, and thus the scent is much easier to follow than it could have been. You track quickly through the sewers until you come to a doorway which the corgi whines at.

As the corgi stands to attention, Chay mutters something beneath his breath. It sounds a blessing--a breath of prayer in thanks to the Hunter Dragon. Swiftly, he moves to the hound's side. His own hands drop to the earth in front of him.

"Your mount bears the Hunter's blessing, sser. One follows him to the hunt, toni--" and the corgi is GONE.

After a moment, Chay glances back at the others. Then, so is he, coursing after. Swift, quick, unquestioning. The Hunter-Blessed Corgi!

Ga'Elian says, "I'd like to listen through the door before we reveal ourselves to whomever may be behind it.

Arisha doesn't move quite as fast as the corgi, but does keep up rather well. Once she gets to the door indicated though....she does draw her pistol...and aims it at the handle. "Don't stand in front of me, Elian...."

Ga'Elian stands back.

Toha shakes her head and dashes back to grab that fifteen pound problem solver she leaned against the wall as it seems the game's afoot. She enters the sewers without any real issue as neither the dark, nor the, shall we say 'ambiance' affect her. She nods back to the elf , though she shifts the grip on her Earthbreaker from 'peace' to 'lockpick' and stands by for some signal of how to proceed, to one side of the door, just in case of surprises.

"I... need. A break." Soup says as he finally hauls himself into the Corgi's saddle. He nods towards Chay. "Yes, hunter blessed, needs more training." Taking a few moments to strap his helmet on, then dust himself off the little knight looks around the sewer then peers at the others. Finally he begins to make more preparations for battle, the lance is loosened, the shield is tied on. For it's part the Corgi continues to chew on dead man pants as it sits by the mysterious door, looking from one person to the next. Slowly it backs away as the pistol comes out however.

Kravar looks at Arisha as if she's mad. The he sighs. He draws a glowing sword shaped like a khopesh. "Everyone ready?" he glances around at the party. "Once we enter there won't be time to prepare."

Arisha says, "For either side."

GAME: Arisha rolls fortitude: (18)+9: 27
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls Fortitude: (8)+20: 28
GAME: Chay rolls fort: (7)+8: 15
GAME: Iolaire rolls fortitude: (10)+9: 19
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls Stealth/YU+Boots: aliased to Stealth+4+2: (16)+36+4+2: 58

"This one is honored to share the Hunt, ser, regardless," Chay replies. So much to smile about, but...he glances down, and at the mention of a firearm goes still.

"One should not be nearby, ser," he says in low tones. He looks to the side, to the other--then nods. "We sshould move away, sser--" and then it fires.

GAME: Toha rolls fortitude: (16)+5: 21
GAME: Kravar rolls fortitude: (4)+16: 20
GAME: Soup rolls fortitude: (15)+6: 21

As the party readies itself to make A Big Entrance, Iolaire unlimbers her own heavy flail, drawing in a deep breath. "Well.... let's have this done, then."

B A N G

The war-bird pauses. Blinks. Blinks again. Begins to resemble more owl than falcon, all wide eyes and fluffed feathers. Her beak slowly opens, closes, then again. "...Oh. Well then." Carefully she reaches out, and gently guides Chay behind her wings where he can recover in peace, dignity, or both.

And then. Then, it explodes. It explodes, and Chay is screaming and doesn't know it.

It explodes, and he's screaming.

His talons are out, the teeth are drawn back, the tendons drawn taunt, and draw outwards the scars betwixt his scales.

And then the wings fly out, and cover it. Cover him. Not touching, but--blocking, blocking.

Breathe.

The sound is massive in the echo-chamber of the sewers, and as the door swings open a gust of green gas flows out of it. Immediately some of your number fall to it. Ga'Elian, Chay, Kravar. All of them drop to the ground like they were struck dead. The rest of you choke on the gas, but remain firmly rooted on the ground.

With the boom the Corgi goes to dart back, chewed pants flying into the air. "No! No! Oh, what is that smeeeellll?" Soup decries as he's going around in a circle while the Corgi panics. "Stop, stop! I am not having a good day!" Finally he brings the animal to heel and slumps over the horn of his saddle panting. Reaching into one of the bags he draws out a flask of brandy and takes a long pull before dropping some liquor on a pair of cloth strips and stuffing them in his large nose.

Breathe. Breathe. Explosions amd whips. The strike of fist, the surly voice of the Charneth. Breathe.

Chay hits the wall and slides down it, breath coming in savage gulps. But he isn't screaming anymore. There's gas--gas--just like there had been in Charn. Toys. Experiments. The strike of fist.

Gas. Chay slides down and is gone to the world.

The thunderous report of the gun wasn't quite the signal she was looking for, but, it definitely sent a message. The green stuff gives Toha pause, though she endures it rather well. She ventures a peek past the doorway to see what's beyond, planning to grab one of her fallen partners if she doesn't get rushed, first.

It's the way the door explodes *outward* that triggers a long-forgotten reflex in Iolaire; memories of the Crown Wars, of pitched fighting in the sapper's tunnels, and her Khazadi sergeant's grating voice; 'When you need to hold your breath, lass, you don't fill your lungs. You just stop. Suck in a big breath, maybe enough gas can get in to do its work. Just stop, and you're like to be shutting the gates on your lungs, get me?'

Old advice that serves her well, in this moment; she's still choking on foulness as the gas begins to clear, and blinks rapidly to clear her eyes, gazing around at the devastation.

"We can't leave them here," she says, and nothing in that voice has any give.

Kravar takes a mouthful of gas and collapses in a series of metallic sounds.

Leading his mount over, Soup directs the giant Corgi to preforms it's most devious, dangerous and horrible of all maneuvers to attempt to rouse the fallen. The dreaded cold wet nose of poke-poke! A wet cold fleshy nose the size of a boxer's fist begins poking the prone companions trying to rouse them from their smell trap induced paralysis. Soup for his part pulls a torch from his pack and lights it, waving the flaming stick back and forth to try and dissipate the stench.

GAME: Arisha rolls heal: (8)+4: 12
GAME: Toha rolls heal: (8)+1: 9
GAME: Iolaire rolls heal: (16)+3: 19
GAME: Soup rolls Heal: (9)+0: 9

Once Arisha realizes the hallway is clear....she turns her attention towards Elian, Kravar and Chay. She's checking vitals, but not getting any. "If they had something this powerful, it'd be more of an epidemic instead of a poison.

As she and those others who might be able to help check on their fallen party, Iolaire's crest rises a bit. "...I've seen this before," she says, her voice heavy with relief. "They'll be all right, up and about before too long. But be on your guard in the meantime. I mislike what might be on its way here, after hearing all those explosions."

It's only a few minutes as Iolaire says, minutes that pass without any sign of someone coming down the thin hallway off the sewer. And then slowly the others that fell begin to wake from their poisoned slumber.

Toha's contributions to her compatriots' condition not terribly staggering, she carefully drags them, in turn, away from the mouth of the hall, just in case, before taking up a guard posture by the door to way and see if anything comes calling.

"You've seen this before?" Arisha says as she looks to Iolaire. "All right. I wasn't exactly trained in this, despite being an Executor." She says as she goes back to the doorway, and levels her pistol at the hallway....just in case.

Ga'Elian wakes up, freaking out, the way someone who is deathly afraid of water reacts to a sudden, unexpected immersion. After a moment, though, he shakes it off and says, "My sincere thanks." to Iolaire. He then says to everybody, 'If you all gather around, I have a spell that will render airborne gasses unable to affect you.' <auran>

GAME: Ga'Elian casts Life Bubble. Caster Level: 20 DC: 16

"You'd be amazed what you'll find, when you're set to undermine walls end end a siege," Iolaire murmurs, clacking her beak and eyeing Chay. Bobbing her head at Ga'elian, she rises, and starts toward the door. "At least one person needs to stay with the young one," she says, crestfeathers fluffing. "Don't crowd, just... be in sight when he comes to. He's not like to waken quietly or happily." With that, she falls in behind Arisha.

Ga'Elian finishes casting his spell, then prepares his bow for action. He heads down, too, using his skills to go silently and blend in with his surroundings.

Arisha figures Elian's a better shot than she is...so she goes in front of Elian....

You traverse the hallway carefully, more cautious after the trap. Eventually you reach a massive room with only a single person standing in the center of the room. They wear a mask made of obsidian and they stand there as if completely expecting you.

Toha recognizes a veteran when they speak. She looks to the Eaglefolk and nods, drawing back to guard the still slumbering fellow. She slips the earthbraker into some loops on her back and draws her smaller sword in deference to the tight quarters. She trusts her teammates to deal with the masked entity.

Arisha looks back to nods to Toha as she hangs back. However, once she spots the masked ones, she keeps her pistol leveled at them....and draws her Khopesh. She also stays silent....

Piercing eyes stare at the figure in the obsidian mask, and the silence stretches between the group and their quarry. Wingfeathers rustle as the moment continues, and finally she breaks it. "....So.... How were you expecting this to go, then? Do you talk first, do we talk first?"

Kravar stirs uneasily. The Masks have proven to be unusually effective against adventurers and he's not at all certain his usual tactics of overwhelming aggression will serve him here. He waits to see if the others come up with a better approach.

"Would you rather I call you what you are? Fools. Did you think that there were not servants of the Mask inside the temple to Vardama?" The voice is male, and the figure quite tall; nearly seven feet tall but thinly muscular.

Ga'Elian uses his Prestidigitation gloves to conjure a half dozen soap bubbles to float across the face of the Mask.

"I'd say I was scared...but I'm not. I'm guessing you're not a true member of the Masks either. Someone who is posing as them to make people retaliate against them because of some slight they did against you in the past." Arisha's starting to become snarky.

"That's welcome news!" Iolaire chirps, loosing her grip on her flail just enough to let the chain fall a bit. "We'll have plenty of work after tonight, then; rooting out infiltrators is a good, paying job, and it's always nice to see the filth get swept out of a dark corner."

"I created this little sect actually. They follow me." He steps through the bubbles, seeming to ignore them entirely. "They kill with purpose I assure you." The masked man settles his shoulders lower, leaning toward you all. There's no one here but him it seems. Though there is an exit behind him that he could possibly flee through if he chose. "You will /never/ find us all."

"That's what I thought. You're not even a true member of the masks. You're just a splinter faction with a bunch of brainwashed idiots. I bet you don't even worship the grey lady." Arisha takes a deep breath....as her thumb pulls the hammer back on her pistol.

"What purpose?" Kravar asks. This time he holds out a hand to Arisha in the classic gesture of 'wait'. Shooting first didn't exactly work for them before and the Prophet - if this is indeed the Prophet - is actually answering their questions. "What do you -want-?"

The Mask lifts an arm, revealing one pale hand. "They want for those that must to die; for the good of all." He leans further toward you. "If you worship the Gray Lady, if you want to know her will; you should join us."

"Sound more like a worshipper of Thul than you do the grey lady." Arisha says. "She acknowledges the passing of life in its natural state. NOT to kill everyone and let her sort it out! Thul would rather kill everyone then raise them as his own army. Is that what you want?"

"The Lady has set a magical plauge upon this land, and to stop it some deaths must occur!" He leans back suddenly. "I know which deaths bring ballance."

GAME: Kravar rolls 4: (3)+4: 7
GAME: Arisha rolls knowledge/religion+2: (11)+13+2: 26
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls Knowledge/Religion: (18)+2: 20

Ga'Elian asks, "So, you're killing people so that all these magical deaths will cease? Really?"

GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+16: (8)+16: 24

"It is what the Black Mask's believe." He says this with certainty, robed arms falling to his sides. "If the Gray Lady speaks, who are we to argue?"

"So you're saying that....by killing people infected...that you're going to keep a magical disease from spreading." Arisha shakes her head. "And you expect us to believe this? How about a step in the direction to where we can trust your word? Like taking off your mask."

Ga'Elian follows up with, "Why then do not the Mourners know of this?" The Grey Lady has never been secretive about death. On the contrary, right, Arisha?"

"Ask the goddess if you will. As for I?" He lifts a hand and motions to his mask. "I am not fool enough to trust you to not try and kill me, or that you would not use my face to hunt me down later. You give me no cause to trust /you/." He motions toward your weapons; still drawn.

"If you truly worship the grey lady, then you should be helping the Executors find these people who are diseased, and getting them to the Temple of Althea. -I- am here because of the killings YOUR sect has done. AN EXECUTOR OF THE GREY LADY. So....you first." Arisha definitely doesn't trust this guy now. Playing way too many games.....like the Shadow Council.

Ga'Elian says, "Right you are." He fires.

Two arrows streak straight for the Mask, one of them he catches in his bare hand, and the other goes harmlessly past him. The arrow in his hand is crushed there, and you can almost feel the ire that suddenly radiates outward from him. "Fools." Fingers shift and low words murmur under his breath as a spell takes form. One that shimmers through him, leaving him... gone.

"....Well that answers my other question," Iolaire says through a sigh. "It sounds like we've not much time, and a Temple to clear out as well as lives to save."

Ga'Elian nods. "AND a fugitive that continues to elude us."

"I've got something to go on, at least." Arisha says as she turns away from where the man was at. "He can run all he wants, but he said we'll 'never' find all of his agents. He only gave me a challenge."

Kravar edges forward and waves his sword through the space the figure was standing. Then he looks around. "Was there any truth to what he said? About a magical plague?" He glances at Arisha. "Has Vardama ever caused something like that? Has she ever done anything to cause death?"

Ga'Elian says, "There is a death plague, but I'm not aware of any connection to Vardama."

 GAME: Kravar rolls perception: (16)+20: 36 to Aftershock

"There have been reports of a disease going around, and those that had died from it...where given a mask like the one he was wearing." Arisha says turning back and holstering her pistol. "And no....Vardama doesn't do that. Passing of life as it happens. So, it sounds more a spellplague."

• SMACK*

"By the grey lady....why didn't I see this before." Arisha says after her open palm hitting her forehead.

"What is it, Executor?" Iolaire asks, coiling her flail and reattaching it to her belt.

"My initial thought was Taara. You know...evil magic...murder...plus." And Arisha points to herself. "But....Poisons that puts those to sleep that have never slept before, the lies, the agents that have infiltrated my temple, and the disease that targets spellcasters.....effectively assassinating them. he's an agent of Illotha...not Taara."

Kravar pauses. He kneels down suddenly. "Are those...are those footsteps?" He points at something on the ground. He doesn't want to get too close, that could ruin the tracks. He's worked with enough rangers to know that much.

Ga'Elian smirks. "I was about to suggest... never mind." He goes to examine the tracks.

GAME: Ga'Elian rolls Percep/Ioun+Boots: aliased to Perception+4+2: (1)+28+4+2: 35 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Arisha rolls survival+2: (9)+15+2: 26

Kravar stands up straight. He looks appraisingly at the door they came in from and then peers at the walls. He swears. "I assumed he had transported himself away, the way wizards do. Did he instead vanish? Become invisible?"

"That's the problem with an invisible spell. You turn invisible, but you can't make your foot prints invisible." Arisha says as she starts to follow the tracks.

-TBC