SESSION 22A: RETURN TO PYTHONESS HOUSE
May 18th, 2008
The 10th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty
Dominic was led inside the cathedral. Tee, seeing him go, quickly followed. Agnarr, Ranthir, and Tor came too. The Order of the Dawn moved to block them at the cathedral’s door. Tee called out to Dominic, but Dominic – nursing his distracted thoughts and worries – didn’t hear her. Fortunately, Tee’s efforts were enough to convince the guard that they could enter.
They caught up to Dominic just as Rehobath’s procession came to a stop in the sacred hall. The newly-anointed Novarch turned to Dominic and smiled, “Thank you, Dominic. Without your guidance this day would not have been possible. Now I feel as if our paths must part, at least for awhile. We must each work for the gods in our own ways, after all.”
This suited Dominic just fine, who had just been trying to figure out how he could get away from Rehobath and his politics without letting him know how he truly felt.
“Now,” Rehobath said. “Is there anything else I can do for you… for any of you?” His gaze took in Tee and the others.
Dominic seemed ready to get out of there, but Tee wasn’t satisfied yet. “Do you think Dominic will be safe?”
“Two members of the Order of the Dawn are already waiting at the Ghostly Minstrel, as you had requested.” Rehobath smiled. “Do you think more guards might be needed?”
“No,” Tee said, glancing towards Dominic. “That should be fine.”
They headed back outside. Dominic leaned towards Tee. “I need to get out of these robes,” he said. “I don’t feel right in them.”
“You can borrow one of my kilts,” Agnarr offered.
Dominic caught a whiff of Agnarr’s unique odor as he leaned in close. “Um…” He shook his head. “No thanks.”
They met up with Elestra, who had spent her time outside circulating through the crowd. “Everyone here seems pretty excited by this. They’re all talking about the dawn of a new age. But I’ve also heard quite a few of them talking about how they knew to be here. I think the crowd was hand-picked.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Tee said. “Come on, lets get out of here.”
When they had gotten some distance away from the cathedral, Dominic stopped and pulled off the purple prelate robes that Rehobath had given to him. He turned to the others. “Does anybody else want to go delving for a couple of weeks?”
DORAEDIAN’S COUNSEL
While everyone else headed back to the Ghostly Minstrel, Tee peeled off and headed up to Emerald Hill – she needed to see Doraedian.
“Tee!” Doraedian smiled, looking up from the sea of parchment spread across his desk. “Your lessons in the Dreaming Arts aren’t until tomorrow.”
“Rehobath has just declared himself the True Novarch of the Imperial Church and denounced the Emperor of Seyrun.”
All traces of mirth fell from Doraedian’s face. “We weren’t expecting that.”
“Neither were we.”
“And where’s Dominic?”
“Back at the Ghostly Minstrel. Rehobath has cut him loose now that he doesn’t need him.”
“I see.”
“The Commissar warned me that something like this might happen. I should have listened.”
“Did he?” Doraedian raised an eyebrow.
“He talked about what Helmut and the Republicans did. Do we think Rehobath will turn against the city? I don’t want Dominic getting caught in the middle of something like that.”
“No. Rehobath’s quarry lies beyond the walls of Ptolus. He won’t start a quarrel. But I don’t think the Commissar will simply stand aside and let him do what he wants, either. And if that happens, Rehobath will resist.”
“Rehobath has put two guards at the Ghostly Minstrel. That’s partly my fault – I wanted Dominic protected. But now I’m worried that Rehobath will use them to spy on Dominic. On all of us.”
“He almost certainly will. But he’ll be keeping an eye on Dominic in any case. At least this way you know who his spies are.” Doraedian pushed back from his desk and stood. “I need to be going. The Commissar will be summoning the Twelve Commanders, and I must give Lothao instructions. I may even accompany him. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Of course.” Tee smiled.
LET’S GO DELVING
On her way back to the Ghostly Minstrel – her adrenaline rush wearing off – Tee began to feel very ill. Pulling back the leg of her breeches, she found that the rat bites she had suffered in Pythoness House the day before had become red and swollen. Pus was dripping down her leg.
She turned aside and headed to the Temple of Asche. After a few minutes of prayer, the gods alleviated her suffering. By the time she got back to the Ghostly Minstrel, she was still feeling a little dizzy and disoriented, but had largely recovered.
She found the others gathered in Elestra’s room, discussing their plans.
Returning to Ghul’s Labyrinth was seriously considered: It would allow them to deal with the tainted dragon rifles they had taken from the Shuul, and they could also finish their explorations there. Tee also argued that Ghul’s Labyrinth had proven to be rich with treasure, and if they were going cleanse her of the taint that had touched her soul they were going to need the gold.
But, in the end, they decided to return to Pythoness House. If Shim was right, then the key would be there. And although they had no idea what the key might be or what purpose it might serve, it was the only tangible path that might lead them back to their lost memories.
RETURN TO PYTHONESS HOUSE
“COME TO ME…”
As Tor, coming up in the rear of the party, entered the courtyard at Pythoness House, the deep, booming voice echoed around them – seeming to emerge from the countless, empty windows that looked down upon them.
They made their way up into the gatehouse towers. From there they jumped down onto the upper terrace and made their way down into the ruined garden that Tee had spotted earlier. According to Maquent’s journal, one of the brothel girls – Thabitha – had lost the key to the square tower while she was in the garden. They suspected that Radanna had hidden her half of the “spiral contrivance” in the square tower, and they hoped they would be able to find the key Thabitha had lost.
On the way, they passed by the strange face Tee had seen carven into the outer wall of the terrace. She had thought its eye to be a gemstone, but now that she was closer to it she could clearly see that it was simply a bit of red paint that had not yet been flecked away by rain or wind. Nonetheless, the laughing face seemed queerly malevolent.
The garden was a display of life and death: In places, the plants had overgrown their boxes and pots – splitting them and spilling dirt and greenery everywhere. Elsewhere brown swaths spoke of those which had failed to endure the passing winters without care.
Tee began poking around, but if the brothel sisters hadn’t found a key lost here years ago, she didn’t think she would have much luck with it. But then she happened to glance over the parapet on the northern side of the garden – a forty foot shaft of sorts had been formed between the wall of the house itself and the wall of the gatehouse.
“If she dropped it down there…”
Tee quickly called the others over and pulled out her rope.
“What if the rope breaks again?” Elestra asked.
“We’ll just have to risk it,” Tee said, handing one end of the rope off to Tor.
Tee had climbed down about ten feet when the booming voice returned: “I MUST FEED…”
Tor, distracted by the voice, jerked his head up. As a result, he missed seeing the rope fraying in front of his hands. With a sudden snap, the rope broke. Tee, feeling the rope go slack, attempted to push off the wall and control her fall… but she slipped on the slick, moss-covered stones. She tried to roll in mid-air, but only succeeded in cracking her skull against the far wall.
She landed heavily on her shoulder. Fortunately, her fall had been cushioned by a thick layer of dead leaves and detritus. She felt blood trickling down her forehead.
“CHAOS IS THE KEY…”
“Are you all right, Tee?!” Everyone up above was peering over the edge.
“I’m fine,” Tee struggled to her feet. Probing gently at her aching shoulder she mournfully remembered the boots of levitation she was still carrying in her bag of holding. “Give me a couple minutes.”
Tee started poking around in the dead leaves. Less than a minute later, she was triumphantly grasping a rusty iron key in her hand: “I’ve got it!”
RADENNA
Tee had no problem using the boots of levitation to lift herself back up to the others in the ruined garden. Key in hand, they began studying the journal again and discussing different possibilities.
They figured they had to find some way into the square tower. From what Maquent had said in her journal, it seemed as if the secret, locked entrance to that room would be located somewhere up high – maybe a ceiling or on the outer surface of the tower itself.
“And that’ll get us half of the spiral key or whatever it is,” Elestra said. “But what about the other half?”
“The journal says that Maquent gave it to the ‘Cobbledman’,” Ranthir said.
“But who is that?”
“I think it might have been the guy I tried to shoot yesterday,” Tee said. “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”
“FIRE!”
Arrows suddenly fell among them. One of them clipped Elestra’s shoulder. All of them were suddenly in motion – diving for cover in different directions.
Somehow six skeletal women – most clad in the tattered remnants of their brothel fineries – had crept onto the upper terrace and were now firing arrows down into the ruined garden at them.
Tee, sliding in behind the limited cover of the parapet, pulled out her dragon pistol and began to return fire. Her first blast caught one of the skeletons in the chest, turning its emaciated ribcage to dust.
Agnarr and Tor, meanwhile, had drawn their swords and were charging up the stairs. Ranthir, quickly assessing the situation, began weaving his magicks and managed to seize partial control over the mind of one of the skeletal warriors – tricking it into believing that its weapons were cursed and “suggesting” that it would be best to hurl them into the courtyard below.
Elestra, following Tee’s lead, sought cover behind the parapet and pulled out her dragon rifle. The two of them laid down a barrage of energy blasts, but the skeletal women were implacable. Ranthir ducked out of sight as another arrow came too close for comfort.
As Tor and Agnarr reached the upper terrace, the two nearest skeletal women dropped their bows and drew short swords. Stripped of their skin, the skeletons moved with preternatural speed – forcing Tor and Agnarr into defensive stances.
One of the skeletal women was wearing chainmail. She had been the one to shout the command to fire, and now she drew out a battleaxe and darted towards Agnarr and Tor. She moved even faster than the others, slipping between their ranks and taking a swing at Agnarr that cut deep into his upper leg.
Agnarr, roaring as he let the pain feed his burning rage, swung mightily. His flaming greatsword cleaved its way through one of the skeletons and nearly caught the chainmail-clad leader before she ducked out of the way.
One of the skeletal women broke and ran, opening a secret door in the side of the keep and racing through. Elestra and Tee shot another as it attempted to turn its bow on Agnarr, while Tor cut down another in midstride.
This left only the chainmail-clad skeleton. She fell back towards the secret door, fighting tooth-and-nail with Agnarr and Tor at every step. She was wily and crafty, ducking this way and that – her ancient bones moving with a lithe and vicious life. “You fools! None can cross the power of chaos and live!”
With the upper terrace cleared of archers, Dominic was free to come out from cover. Following close behind Agnarr and Tor, he reached a begrimed window on the wall near the secret door.
He found himself looking into a large and once-sumptuous bedchamber. Unlike those on the ground floor, however, this room featured only a single large bed. It was surrounded by a wealth of furniture – a dresser, padded chairs, divans, braziers, and tables. He didn’t see any sign of the skeletal woman that had run into the room, but he did see another door to the left and a staircase leading up. He gestured towards the other door.
Tee leapt up from behind the parapet and ran down the short hallway leading to the second door. It was locked. She whipped out her lockpicks and set to work on it. Ranthir came up behind her. “What are you doing Tee? Are you going to pick the lock? Oh, I see!”
Tee groaned silently to herself.
“The power of the Crimson Coil shall never die!” the skeletal leader backed into the room. She raised her battleaxe and brought it crashing down on Tor’s chest, but Tor’s breastplate turned the blow.
“You’re already dead!” Tor roared and pressed his attack.
Meanwhile, Tee – unseen – had gotten the other door open. Seeing the skeletal woman with her back turned to her, she pulled out her dragon pistol and fired. Unfortunately, the skeletal woman chose that moment to dart forward, and the blast splashed uselessly across the back of her chainmail.
The skeletal woman whirled. “No! None shall enter my chambers!” In an utter, unthinking rage she charged across the room at Tee. Tee fell back, firing wildly.
Tor took advantage of the situation and followed at Radanna’s heels, plunging his sword down into her skull. It cleaved through the top of her head and lodged there, sending purple arcs of electricity bursting from her eyes.
Dominic followed Tor into the room. His eyes darting around – taking in the holes in the dusty floor where skeletal bodies had lain for years; the blood-stained knife laying upon the floor in the center of a pentagram traced with blood. He drifted towards the large bed tucked into one corner of the room… and spotted the other skeletal woman cowering behind it.
He gestured frantically towards Agnarr. Agnarr, taking his cue, charged across the room and leapt full-bodied over the bed. “FOR THE GLORY!”
The skeletal woman shrank back against the wall. “No! PLEASE!”
Agnarr’s sword sliced down through her skull and shattered the bones of what had once been her body. As she crumbled slowly into dust, her final whisper drifted into his ears: “Thank you… I am free…”
Agnarr grunted and sheathed his sword. “You’re welcome.”
NEXT CAMPAIGN JOURNAL
Session 22B: At the Top of Pythoness House
RUNNING THE CAMPAIGN
Dungeon as Theater of Operations
