Investigating Journalism

Log Info

• Title: Investigating Journalism

• GM: Eztli

• Characters: Aelwyn, Critias, Culix, Harkashan, Rune, Slixvah

• Place: Society of Progressive Arcanists

• Summary: A group of adventurers discovered a magically trapped journal in the laboratory of a deranged necromancer, and are seeking to have it disarmed, so that they may learn what lies within.

GAME: Rune rolls sleight of hand: (6)+10: 16
GAME: Culix rolls sleight of hand+2: (15)+13+2: 30
GAME: Eztli rolls 1d20+3: (3)+3: 6
GAME: Eztli rolls 1d20+3: (1)+3: 4 (EPIC FAIL)

The Arcanists Guild, Early Afternoon.

It was not too long ago that a group of adventurer's were sent to one of the manors in the nobility district under the guise of investigating a disturbance. This turned out to be a trap laid by the wizard behind it, though the group was able to deal with what was found successfully. In the aftermath, a leather-bound tome was recovered, warded by various magics. Due to the nature of it, and with interest in seeing one of their number brought to justice, the Society for Progressive Arcanists took the tome, in order to ensure those reading it and the information within would be safe.

It is for this reason that the group goes further down into the guild, past several guard posts. The air itself feels heavier the further down they into the stone tunnels, and there is an unpleasant stifling feeling accompanying it, only heightened as they pass close to the runes lining the walls. A pair of sith-makar guards flank one of the break rooms, and they thump their tails against the stone as Harkashan passes, but remain silent. One of the members of the guild leads the group down, stopping in front of a heavy metal door that lies open to a room. It is rather plain, a wooden table and several chairs around it, and the tome in question lying upon it.

"The journal was enchanted with explosive runes, but we removed them." The mage explains, giving the book an uncomfortable glance. "We were hoping that you could affirm the information within, as much as it pains me to know what he did was true."

"Just a precaution, right?" Critias asks lightly as he unslings a longbow from his back. A slight shadow passes over his face and he hesitates before passing it over, more stiffly - and perhaps reluctantly - than before. "It's not that I -need- a bow in a dungeon," he comments. "It's just that I've grown used to it." Then he hurries on to keep up with the others as they enter. He glances this way and that as they go, but as he steps through the last door, Critias takes more time and soaks in the room, the tables and chairs, and of course the book. He walks around to the far side of the table, leaving plenty of room for others, and examines it. "So...has the journal already been studied? Or are we to be the first?"

Upon reaching the first of the guard posts and being asked to hand over her weapons, Culix complies- for the most part. Her crossbow and quiver are handed over without complaint, as well as the dagger on her hip. There is a moment while she waits and the guard continues to stare at her expectantly, before she sighs, retrieving another dagger tucked under one arm, and a third one from her boot. Another pause, and an impatient grunt from the guard, and she rolls her eyes before producing one more dagger from the side of one of her boots, adding it to the pile of steel with a clatter.

Finally, she stands with arms apart and does a turn, assents to a pat down, and is finally given leave to continue onwards. Of course, those were all the knives she was willing to have spotted- and she still has a trusty backup dagger strapped to her forearm under her sleeve. But no one needs to know that. It's for emergencies.

She follows their guide along towards the room where the book is being kept, peering at it for a moment. She wasn't one of the group of adventurers that retrieved it, but she's widely studied so figured she could turn her talents towards the book. Of course, despite assurances, the first thing she checks for is any traps the arcanists might have missed- magical or otherwise.

Slixvah, an extravagantly dressed yet small egalrin woman treks into the room, rubbing the side of her head as all the little things she keeps in her robes filled are all but gone. "Guh. This ain' a fun place fo' me," she murmurs, sliding her way into a chair.

She takes stock of who's in attendance, lingering on those who were present before turning back to the mage. "Hah," Slix tuts, snapping a finger in victory. "I /knew/ it!" A little sigh escapes her. "I'm gonna assume th' former. Gotta make sure they kno' it was worth ta dispel. Sure, I can affirm. Despite how much that place... sucked," she explains.

GAME: Culix rolls perception+3: (19)+12+3: 34

Harkashan, upright and tall, passes the two Sith-makar guards and thumps his tail to the stone in answer to them. He's been within this place before. Though this doesn't appear to be the top secured chambers, he can tell that this place is still heavily warded.

"At least we did not need to leave our items of magical stylings behind this time." He rumbles as they step into the chambers, touching the tip of his muzzle for a moment. He looks to the table and chairs, stepping to the side before turning to properly regard the mage who is explaining the situation.

"Of course." He rumbles, nodding his head.

Leave his glaive? Even his knife? The indignity. The sheer callousness. He huffed and seethed; but eventually Aelwyn gives away his weapons. The pat-down though was barely customary with him, as he wore barely nothing more than bits of leather, his loincloth and the chainshirt that barely fit him. "Tch." He rumbles, flicking his tail. "If not this business."

The Dragoon looks over Slixvah and then moves to give her a bump with his hips. "Cheer, Ribbon. Think of the hot baths, the endless company, the endless night under the sky..." He flashes his teeth - though he himself was not keen on remembering the gory details. "Besides, this one is certain worse books have been written - how bad can confirming few words be?"

At first, Rune simply steps forth and begins to unload a similar arsenal of weaponry to Culix. Enough to raise eyebrows, between the two of them, perhaps. However, what actually gets Rune stopped is at the point of searching her person. There are some hushed words. Something about her back...

The rogue is taken off to a side room briefly, only to return with a motion that suggests she may have had to partially disrobe to allow them a thorough examination. With a gruff sound, she walks right on by the guards without removing her last dagger from her boot.

"Not a surprise that the book would be trapped. The whole damn place was a puzzle-filled funhouse of horrors." Rune mutters, obviously still a bit peeved at the situation she has found herself in. She folds her arms, body posture guarded. "Yeah. We can tell you what we experienced, at least." The half-sil starts to fidget with her necklace, using the puzzle-like pieces of it like a fidget toy.

"Words can be pretty dangerous." Culix offers Aelwyn without looking up from the book, her eyes wandering over it as the others file in and peer at it. There's something off about this place, the wards not sitting well with her. The Shadows feel colder than she's used to. But she pushes down the prickling on the back of her neck and concentrates on the book. "Looks like you got all of them." she tells the Arcanist, with regards to the traps. "I don't spy any more runes or glyphs, spring needles, powder puffers, anything." she adds.

"The journal was read, but we believe that the adventurer's guild has a more complete account of what transpired." The mage answers Critias and the others. "Thank you for bringing this to our attention, miss Unmesi, we appreciate your willingness to trust us in spite of our, involvement in the matter. It pains none more than us to hear what one of our order has done, an insult to Vardama and those who work to better our world." They add with another glance to the book. "Culix is correct, it is not just a recollection, but an account of their learnings, as well. One could feasibly use such a tome to learn how to conjure the undead, among other forbidden practices, within it. Hence the security, and keeping it where it may not be scried."

Critias's eyebrows go up at the list of traps. He starts to lean forward with hands clasped behind his back. Then he seems to realize what he's doing and unclasps them, instead putting his palms on the table to lean forward and peer at the book more closely. He waits until the mage is finished explaining and then tears his eyes away from the journal in order to glance around at the rest of the party. But almost immediately after his gaze drops to the book again. "All right, I'm sorry...the suspense is too much." Critias reaches out and touches it with the knuckles of one hand, then with almost the same motion turns his hand so he can flip open the cover.

"Ohhhh trust me, Flutter, I'm thinkin' all 'bout tha' ri' now," Slix snorts at Aelwyn, shaking her head. There's a nod towards Culix. "Very true. Words got power. Also, it wouldn't have surprised me if th' jerk did put some sorta rottin' powder in there or somethin'."

Slix crosses her arms. "I appreciate ya sentiment, bu' I won't lie, it was less about trustin' you, and mo' about accountability. Y'all can fix screw ups way easier tha' jus' me," she bluntly yet honestly elaborates.

She glances to Rune and her fidgeting, a wing subtly extending to pat them on shoulder reassuringly. A glance to the mage. The book. "So..." she draws out, watching Critias start to open the book. She leans forward expectantly. "... can I read it?"

There's a deep gutteral rumble from Harkashan as it is mentioned that a Vardaman was involved in all of this. While he is certainly given some gifts by the Death Singing Dragon that would be considered Necromantic in nature, there is a certain threshold he will not cross...

And this is that treshold.

When Critias so readily opens the book, Harkashan steps forward with his hands behind his back to consider the age it has been opened to - before touching his tail to Rune's ankles. He's glad that someone removed the dangerous spells off of this item already, but he's still wary of its contents...

Some things are dangerous even without it being a spell. Knowledge that cannot be unlearned once learned.

Culix nods solemnly in agreement with Slix on the topic of rotting powder. "Nasty stuff, that." she says then. She peers at the book, curious herself- but, more than happy to let someone else be the guinea pigs and read it first. "I wasn't there when you got this thing, but I know a thing or two about... well, all sorts of things." she says then. "So I'll take a gander after, see if I can't figure anything out." she adds.

She once more glances around, still trying to place what it is about this place that's unsettling her. Finally it seems to come together, and she mouths 'the wards...' to herself before shaking her head and once again pushing down the unpleasant sensation they seem to be inspiring.

"Tch, still words." The Dragoon rumbles, crossing his arms across his chest. Aelwyn shifts weight from one foot to the other. The draconian did feel quite naked without his weapon. Even without the knife, usually under his shoulder pauldron.

As the letters were usually strange of shapes, the ruddy sith-makar doesn't even attempt to get close to the book, instead sliding his hand down on his hip and looking over towards Rune. "Horrors, perhaps - but all of them came down withn nothing but blade and strength of will." Glance towards the rest of the group. "And maybe some magical touch." He flashes his teeth.

Rune seems to trust Culix's eyes on the matter, her muscles only relaxing ever so slightly at the reassurances that they won't be meeting an end in an explosive fireball. "Good to know. Though, I imagine the contents are no small danger, themselves."

The flutter of a wing past her shoulder has Rune looking over to Slixvah, offering the avian an incline of her head. It's a subtle confirmation that she's fine.

"Just what we need, more necromantic bullshit going around." Rune shakes her head, only comforted slightly by the wrap of a tail around her ankle. "I assume this is something your people would be concerned with. The dead are definitely in their purview."

Then, looking to the book, Rune remains back a step. She's more than willing to let the magic-focused folks have the first bash at it.

GAME: Slixvah rolls spellcraft: (3)+16: 19
GAME: Slixvah rolls spellcraft: (16)+16: 32
GAME: Critias rolls spellcraft: (19)+24: 43
GAME: Harkashan rolls Spellcraft: (12)+15: 27

After flipping past the first page, on the backside of it can be seen several intricate looking sigils, that seem almost unnaturally faded, whatever magic within expended. Underneath, a small addendum in elegant, flowing script which simply reads "It is my great pleasure to announce that I have prepared and used a spell of explosive runes this day."

Further reading reveals more seemingly lead to these events. The ex professor Ulin Adelbert writes at great lengths of the fall of Dragonier, with extra attention given to their need to step in with Alexandria's disappearance, and anger and frustrations with Dran as they seem to seek the opportunity to expand their influence further. This anger only seems to grow as time goes on, with it reaching a boiling point at the treatment of Dragonier refugees as they were left with nowhere to go save for the recent aggressors.

It is around this point that it seems to reach a boiling point, as entries begin to speak of getting back at the nation which wronged them so, even going so far as to blame Dran for Heth's arrival. Journal entries become interspersed with musings on the arcane, mostly with the summoning of undead. Rituals are covered in great detail, as well as theories on how they might go about gathering the materials needed to summon them.

Culix frowns as the journal's contents are recounted. She can see the author's point, in many ways, which is always concerning. But she keeps her commentary to herself until they get to the talk of arcane musings and detailed rituals. Then the frown turns into a scowl.

"Can see why you'd want to keep this locked up." she admits then. "But wouldn't you be better off destroying it? I guess there are more than a few folks who know some means or another to create undead, but the less sources of that sort of knowledge, the better, I'd have thought."

Critias does his best to angle the book so that everyone can read it, although this proves to be more trouble than it's worth. When he comes to the end of a page he glances at others to see if they're ready before turning to the next. Something familiar about this particular style of lettering perhaps, or the language used, or yet some other subtle aspect seems to let him read it easily. "A very troubled mind," he comment sadly once they are several pages in. "Brilliant, but troubled." Coming to one particular diagram he taps it with one clawlike nail. "He seems be conducting experiments on ways to create more powerful undead. All in an attempt to...to bring down Dran?...which is ironic given they have been defeated already. And even more ironic given what happened to Dragonier."

"Oh wow, he put those explody runes on because of us. I feel special," Slixvah deadpans. She shakes her head and, despite the warnings, quietly drinks in the writings with each page turn. There's obvious disgust on her visage, along with a twittering sound that sounds akin to 'bleh'. But under that is a morbid curiosity, hating the end of each page, but reaching forth to press towards another one. It only doubles down at the diagrams.

"Yes, but sometimes you have to know how ta' wield a blade ta stop a serial stabber," Slix counters, half her mind working through the theories and finding that they check out. "Yuh. Some of thi' is basis of what we found in th' manor. Right messed up."

She nods towards Critias, but still drinking in the forbidden knowledge before her. "I mean, prolly saw opportunity to do damage and he took it. Maybe he's... got a base out there? Doin' experiments here ta take back?"

GAME: Harkashan rolls Knowledge/History: (13)+8: 21

Harkashan rumbles, "Heth and their undead horde destroyed Dragonier. A most ironic turn of events indeed." He agrees with Critias. "Though perhaps there is more there. Such a thing is most likely not circumstance. A Great Dragon's invasion is not performed through only its troops. It is also done by altering the minds of its people."

He glances to Rune for a moment, then back to the book. "It may be wise to travel to Dran and seek out some of its refugees, or to Dragonier and find if there are still Dragon Knights remaining in its last standing vestiges. They may be able to give more history on this particular matter." He recommends.

"One only needs coin and lust to bring down nations - not armies of undead. Tch." Aelwyn rumbles in annoyance - he couldn't read very well, but he got the gist of what was going on. Especially with the help of diagrams. He makes a leaning motion - then forgets he doesn't have a spear to lean against. Another low hiss leaves between his sharp teeth.

A moment later, the ruddiest sith-makar leans forward and taps Slixvah with his hip. "Don't get too drunk, Ribbon." Then there's a flash of his teeth at the mention of 'Dragon Knights' - but it quiets down very soon afterwards.

"Sometimes, pissing off the assholes of the world is the only way I do feel special." Rune murmurs, but she doesn't try to look in on the book, itself. Instead, she stands back, listening to the others as they appraise it.

Magic is not her strong suit.

"I got the impression that the manse we were summoned to was some sort of testing ground. Like they didn't really expect us to survive it. At the very least, I don't think they intended us to find their little office." Of course, she could be very wrong about that, too.

"I'd put good money on them having other locations for 'testing'. Maybe other methods of luring in people they can experiment on."

Beat. "I don't really know much about Dran. My travels never took me there."

The writings continue, journal entries becoming more and more focused on a dark fascination with the undead. One passage which sticks out particularly, especially to Culix, almost two years back and dated the month of Rhaltaas:

I should have expected the corpses of peasants to be so useless. While they can still be instilled with a murderous intent if need be, they are limited by what shreds of memories they retain. Still, it is good to test the limits of their capabilities. I have enlisted the help of a disillusioned apprentice at the society, as I can not always be around to monitor my project, and even a failure of a wizard such as herself can at least make sure a barn door is locked at night. Just what are they teaching at the society these days? I am certain any _successful_ apprentice of mine would have been capable of discerning the difference between a transmutation spell and a magic aura that has been prepared to mimic the lingering effects of transmutation magic. It was a laughably simple matter to transmute human bones into animal remains, under the guise of convincing her I was using turning the these animals into undead laborers to help the village nearby. Honestly, where did she think that these deer learned to till a field from, anyways?

Still, this endeavor has proven to be a failure, but not a setback. I will need to source better quality remains next time, to see what the impact will be.

"So there's an apprentice we might be able to find." Harkashan rumbles. "And all we need to do, is find a group of deer that are tending to farm fields." He remarks, touching a claw to the side of his muzzle.

"Surely, that should not be hard to find."

Culix snorts a brief laugh at Rune's sentiment, and nods her head in vague agreement. Culix rubs at her neck a bit, trying to place why that feels familiar to her. And then it clicks. "Oh, I was there." she remembers then. "I met that apprentice, I think." she remembers then. "We destroyed the skeletons- she thought they were animals, alright, but we weren't entirely buying it. We hogtied her and brought her in, as best as I remember." she tells the others then.

"Yeah, well, lust for power tends ta wield different swords," Slix raises a brow at Aelwyn. "Even if th' sword is a horde of undead." Hark's mention of finding some Dragon Knights piques her interest, mentally filing that task away for later.

The egalrin snickers at that. "It feels so good. Now jus' ta make sure it can be squashed." A glance is afforded to Aelwyn, her giving a cheeky shrug. "If ya do what I do, ya take all th' weird you can find," she hums before delving back into the morbid reading material. The witch tilts her head to the side at the passage. "... ok, using undead animals ta farm? Smart. Faking it ta be animals, and animatin' 'em, duping ya apprentice, and doin' all that? Messed up."

She rubs her beak at Hark's assessment. "... maybe. Prolly can find this apprentice. Not so many necromancer apprentices in the Society-" She blinks at Culix. "... well shoo'. Tha' makes th' job way easier."

Critias nods in agreement. "It's clear she was deceived by the author, the one truly behind all of this." He gestures at the journal entry that describes how he felt about her. "We can interview her again for clues. Something that might lead us to the true villain." He pauses and then glances at Culix. "Do you recall what was to be done with her? Was she banished from the Society of Progressive Arcanists?...imprisoned?"

"Undead animals? Really?" Aelwyn says, disappointed and disgusted at the same time. "This and the mimic meat will ruin the appetite for days." He leans away from the book then, apparently having decided that was far enough, and looks towards Slixvah. "Don't delve too deep into the weird, Ribbon. The weird might get freaky." A flash of his teeth. "Or it might be a late night by the bar."

Rune opens her mouth, as if about to say something when Culix fills in that they had already captured the apprentice in question. Turning to look at the goblin, there is a slight lift of the eyebrows. "Well, that's one clue we don't have to go chasing down." Pause, "Potentially."

It seems like the capture may not have been a recent event, so just where the apprentice happens to be at this moment is the question.

"Might also be worth looking for signs of remains going missing, if our prey isn't making his own." There is another glance towards Harkashan, "Your folk would certainly take notice if there were graves being tampered with, I imagine."

Then, to Aelwyn, she smirks, "I will never understand how you are able to flirt in regards to pretty much any topic."

"Lot of folk don't end up in Graves." Culix replies to Rune's suggestion. "Might be worth checking out the sewers and docks, too. More than a few corpses end up there, and they're easier to pilfer without anyone noticing." she says, grimly.

There's another unhappy glance at the journal and the assembled group as the question was asked. "Anne was barred from work and study at the society. While it is clear she was misled, we do our best to instruct students in the basic nature and precautions surrounding necromancy. I believe her distress at the matters regarding the surrounding farmlands from recent undead attacks made her overlook the concerns, when they should have reinforced the caution we try to instill. I believe she still remains in Alexandria, however, if you wish to seek them out."

Another entry stands out, just under a year later in the month of Callem:

The quality of corpses was certainly a limiting factor I am pleased to say, and not a limitation of my steadily improving grasp over the necromantic arts. It gives me great pleasure to raise the bodies of Dran noblemen, for the express purpose of seeing their downfall. While perhaps not as skilled as they were in life, they are still miles above those peasants from prior experiments. Those capable of magic even retain some of their capabilities from life, which will prove useful in coming conflicts.

The matter of availability remains a problem, however. One can not expect bodies of famous warriors to be easily obtained, and suspicion is easily aroused, even here. I will need to find a way to create useful creatures from the bodies of those not martially inclined. Perhaps the owners of this home will be looking for a reunion with their children and will be so overjoyed that they will willingly aid me with my experiments.

GAME: Culix rolls knowledge/local: (3)+9: 12
GAME: Culix rolls knowledge/local: (20)+9: 29

"It's his superpower," Slix tacks on to Rune's comment about Aelwyn, snickering as she elbows the Dragoon in the side. "Too late for tha', I'm neck deep in th' weird."

Taking in the information from her peers and the mage conducting this, she grinds her beak idly. "... hrm. Prolly can track 'er down."

She continues to read. Scowling as she does so. "Well, duh, stupid. Richer materials means betta payoff, no matta th' profession," she scoffs. And she keeps reading. Feathered brows knitting tightly. "... so... there was another raising? It sounds li' he got spotted if he's bringin' up bein' sus."

Culix peers at the entry and reads through it, another grimace covering her features. Smashing skeletons was easy. Thinking about where those skeletons came from, who they once were? Not so much. But she reads anyway as she considers that, "If the guy was looking for more powerful remains to reanimate, he might have gone looking for tombs or crypts housing notable corpses." she muses to the others. She thinks about it for a few moments, and then frowns.

"In fact, there was a break in recently. A Dran family crypt- the apprentice tipped off some adventurers who... destroyed the childrens' reanimated skeletons." she murmurs.

Harkashan chimes in, "The place we found this book was also related to a Dran family." He points out, as he figured out in a moment of haze when they'd just arrived. "So that seems to follow his typical track record so far."

Critias rubs the close-cropped hair on the top of his head. "I am beginning to see why they called us," he says solemnly. "I'm tempted to skip ahead to the end," He fans the corners of the remaining pages with his thumb without actually turning them. "For the warmest clue, to set us on our way to capture him." Then he turns back to the open page. "But scent is already old, and reading the rest might help us understand his intentions and plans better."

Aelwyn turns towards Rune, raising his hands. "Is it flirting if it's true?" He rumbles and flicks his teeth. He gives another hip bump to Slixvah at the elbowing. "Tch, one assumes there is an end to a pit trap, yet it ever sinks in deeper." His tail makes a curling motion as he steps away from the book, crossing his arms. He stays quiet after as the others continue to mull on over the Dran connection. The mention of children makes him flare his nostrils and make another 'tch' sound.

The thought of unburied and untended bodies has Rune's expression going somber. "The place we found the journal at... the Adventurer's guild had recently been there to deal with an incursion in the family crypt." Though she doesn't know if it is all the same, it sounds far too similar not to be considered.

The fact that deceased children were used against grieving family, well, that hs her expression hardening. "Sounds like we're near the end, as it is. Let's finish this and figure out our next steps. I don't like leaving assholes like this to run wild in the city." They'd had to deal with the fallout of one of those already.

The writings continued on, and the nature of the experiments was growing ever more complicated, and violent. One entry talks of the return of the heads of the family, lamenting the fact that their previous experiments were already destroyed, but going into great detail of the process of preparing their bodies for further necromantic rituals. Multiple bodies of those they had slain enchanted and stitched together.

Tests are going much better, I was foolish to focus so much on the already dead. Perhaps I still felt that it was better, but after all that I have done, nothing should be off limits, what is done in the pursuit of revenge pales in comparison to what was done to my people, and the leaders of Dran were even proven to be in league with Heth in the end. Ultimately however, these golems are a failure. While strong, and able to react to rudimentary commands, they are simply too inefficient. The lightning rods needed to give them autonomy are simply too complicated to be used in any offensive capacity. It was the focus on the dead which was their problem, even fresh corpses are so limited in their capabilities, no matter how you twist their flesh to fit your needs. The lightning is a pale imitation of the pure spark of energy which I need, the soul itself. If I am capable of binding these souls before the moment of death, then there is no limit to what can be done, much like my own talents continuing to evolve. All that is needed is a place where I might prepare, and have the necessary stock with which to finalize my theory.I will not waste these golems however, they may yet provide useful data to me, and perhaps some manner of entertainment. It has been horribly boring working these years, and the family only provided the smallest hint of entertainment and satisfaction.

"Golems." Critias says the word without emotion. He repeats it. "Golems. His darkness, it...it keeps growing. And when he says..." Critias glances at the journal entry one more time to remind himself of the words. "'A place where he can find the necessary stock'." Critias expression is grim. "He means a place where he can find people. Living people. Living souls."

GAME: Slixvah rolls spellcraft: (10)+16: 26

Slixvah blinks at Culix. "Oh, did they now? Good. Less mess ta clean up." She taps the side of her beak, thinking as others voice their conclusions. ".. yeah, I'm inclined ta agree wit' ya'll. Prolly should check fo' so Dran nobility here in th' city."

She ingests the last of the journal.

Inhales deeply. Then slowly sighs. Several whistles and clicks are uttered sharply, some rough translation from Auran equating to being turned into a stain by being dropped from the sky with Dana doing the last blast into the ground. "Thi' /stupid/ moron means ta raise intelligent undead." She rubs her face. "We already slew th' golems. They were a pain in the rear. This is.. ugghh..."

She looks to Harkashan. "I dunno 'bout you, hot stuff, but I just figured out how ta protect folk 'gainst gettin' they friggin' soul siphoned out. So sounds like you an' me got a lotta work on our hands."

GAME: Culix rolls knowledge/religion: (15)+6: 21

Harkashan looks back to Slixvah as she addresses him, and then ticks his tongue along the top side of his muzzle. "I am a Deathsinger. I have long protected folk by using particular methods of burial to stop people from being turned to undead. The Charn had a particular enjoyment for this." He remarks. "I believe I know the spell you speak of. I took am able to wield this magic." He then remarks. "But it is rather temporary, and can only be cast a few times. There is only one 'permanent' solution to this particular problem, when dealing with a madman such as this."

Culix reads through this latest entry and looks pensive. "Yeah, looks like he's graduating from grave robbing to serial killing." she grimaces once more. And once again rubs her neck, the same spot, as though it's troubling her. But she looks over towards the others, "Golems can be tricky, but I'm more worried about the souls. All sorts of nasty shit you can do with souls." she murmurs. "And if this guy wants to raise an army, I doubt he's going to be content with raising them in dribs and drabs for long." she grumbles.

"Sounds to me like it might be best to put him down when we find him. I mean sure, bring in for questioning is a good idea. But better safe than sorry." she says. "And I get the feeling from these rantings that he isn't going to turn himself in or come quietly when cornered."

GAME: Slixvah rolls knowledge/arcana: (13)+16: 29
GAME: Culix rolls knowledge/arcana: (20)+6: 26
GAME: Critias rolls spellcraft: (7)+24: 31
GAME: Harkashan rolls Spellcraft: (12)+15: 27

"To kill them, is it?" Aelwyn suggests, then tilts his head back. "Tch." He rumbles, another annoyed sway of his tail behind him. "Go too deep, be swayed by what lies just near grasp - and all it will dissolve into grains of madness." There's a pause, "It is a shame what happened to the family, no matter who they were. That place of gore," He shakes his head.

Raising her brows at Slixvah's Auran, she smirks slightly, some hint of that humor returning, "My my, what language." Normally, Rune is the one to curse up a blue streak.

"We dealt with the golems, but it's whatever he has planned next that I'm worried about." She explains, shaking her head from side to side. "If he's moved on to kidnapping and murder, it's only a matter of time until we hear about it. Especially with his tendency to favor targeting Dran nobles."

Looking to both Slixvah and Harkashan, "Looks like just the sort of situation that needs a good old fashioned magical beat-down. Though, you know my blades are yours as well if you need them."

Culix ruminates for a while longer, and then grunts. "Ah, fuck." she grumbles. "He doesn't want to make intelligent undead. Well, maybe he does, but that's not the endgame. He wants to be one." she says then. "So we need to find him sooner than later. He'll be... much harder to put down if he manages it. Plus so far as I know, souls used for things like that are consumed. They won't ever go to the halls."

Slixvah nods sharply. "Yuh. I'm with ya on tha'. Jus' thinkin' we may have ta dole that mojo out quite a bit soon, Shashan."

A sigh escapes her. "No. We gotta do a permeant solution. No capture. I don' care 'bout legal systems an' all tha' stuff. Thi' guy is an affront ta magic," the witch says firmly, getting a bit fiery at the topic. Not at towards anyone here. A little snort is afforded towards Rune. "I do spew foulness on occasion."

The egalrin stares at Culix. The page. Flips back once to a diagram. The feathers on her face press down to a narrow profile. "... ohh... shit. Shit shit shit. Not jus' any kind of intelligent undead. A godsdamn Lich," she hisses out.

"And he thinks that all he requires now is souls." Critias says, stepping back from the table and the book. "Many innocent souls." He looks at the mage but then turns away and instead looks at the rest of the party. "He has to be stopped."

-End Scene-