PrP: The cult of Su'Tek
The information on the cult is pretty scares, but there is a meeting scheduled in the basement of grandma Ingrids house. She is an elderly woman well known around the city for her cookies and has always been known to be kind and gentle. People have been randomly walking up to the house wearing black robes with silver lining. They are also sharing a password whispered to the elderly womans ear before they are let in.
The password is not to hard for the rangers very well trained ears to picku, "Water in the Blood." spoken in infernal to grandma Ingrid. Rosella has some luck, she spots a small group of four stragling behind the rest and a few blocks away. She is easily able to walk by them as there are public streets and overhear some of what they are saying, "I am looking forward to the cookies, they are always the best part of these meetings."
Ga'Elian waits for most of them to go, inside... away... regardless. He's also looking to not cause a ruckus. He spots the four by Roselle and moves that way, trying to be unremarkable if seen. One of the cultist stops for a moment and glances around, "Oh, remember the values." stopping and turning to Rosella, "Would you like to join us for some great cookies and learning tonight? we are studying the evils of the world and how to fight against them."
Roselle, in the process of meandering past the four, stops, blinking. "Well now. That sounds remarkably intriguing," she returns, giving a bright, glittering smile. "Evils of the world! How fascinating! Mind if I bring a friend, since it so happens we /have/ been discussing topics that sound...rather similar in nature?"
Ga'Elian sneaks up behind one of the three others and attempt to stealthily grapple him from behind. Hand over his mouth, other arm restaining him, dragging him off into dark ally without alerting his friends. You know the stuff that sneaky heroes always get away with in the movies.
The cultist grabbed by Ga'Elian never got a chance to say a word, he is pulled back and disappears from view, perhaps to never be seen alive again. The cultist talking to Roselle grins a lot brighter, "Oh your friend is more then welcome to come along. We are always looking to add to the ranks of those seeking to end evil." The man glances past Rosella and then around, "So where is your friend, and I guess Mark went on ahead." Oh you have a name for the guy now.
"Fighting the evils of the world sounds intriguing, indeed", says Elisabeth... decked out with her armor and cloak that so prominently display the symbols of Daeus. "I, for one, would welcome hearing of such things. Cookies are, also, always a welcome treat", she adds, with a wink and a grin.
Ga'Elian having succeeded in grabbing Mark without any of the other cultists being any the wiser, renders him unconscious as he pulls him into a dark alley. There, he takes the man's ceremonial garb and puts it on himself, and ties the hapless cultist up to a mana lamp-post with a hastily scribbled note pinned to his silk-rope bindings. The note says, "Arrest me. I am a diabolical cultist and need to make confession to the Temple of Daeus." Having ledt his package as described, he walks out toward Grandma Ingrid's front door.
Roselle, having been treated to a full view of exactly where said cultist - and Ga'Elian - went to, waves her hand grandly at Elisabeth, who's been making her way over while the distraction is in progress. "Behold. Like minds," she drawls, voice a sandpaper-honey rasp. "There's always evils of the world to fight, in different guises." Her eyes glitter as she adds casually, "Perhaps I'll be able to meet your friend Mark later on, since he's obviously in a hurry to get to this meeting." She puts juuuust a touch of emphasis on the name, in the hopes that Ga'Elian is /somewhere/ he can hear the damned thing as he goes by.
The cuiltist grins even wider, "Oh a follower of Deus? We get bonus cookies for bringing along followers of that." He the man turns and queit happily starts down the path towards Grandma Ingrids house. The man walking up to Grandma Ingrid, "Hey we got two people interested in joining our cause to help ride the world of evils!"
Svarshan scents the area, as he steps out from one of the buildings. He wears a cultist's guise, and human skin. Along the skin are carved subtly, the signs of the Infernal. The latter marks are made with some knowledge. They suggest a binding of some kind, and he smiles predatorily at the two 'recruits' as he approaches Ga'Elian. He makes a sign with his hand to their fellow cultist. "Indeed."
Ga'Elian responds with a secret IB sign. He says, "I know the passphrase."
"I hear you make excellent cookies, Grandmother", Elisabeth says to Ingrid with a smile. "I look forward to sampling some samples of your artwork."
Roselle inclines her head to Svarshan as he comes up. Respectfully, and all that. Her eyes glitter all the more as she studies him, then turns to Elisabeth. "I suppose we shouldn't keep people waiting. Shall we?" A throaty little trill of sound rumbles in her throat briefly, and she yaaaawns, like a large predatory cat.
Ga'Elian leaves a little gap between the ladies and their escorts and himself wanting to arrive separately.
"My every respect to the followers of Daeus, and their conviction to the Law," Svarshan says to the new recruits. Again, the hint of something predatory, and the look he turns to grandmother is much kinder. Underneath, it really isn't. "Grandmother," he says warmly. He pulls up the robe's hood, supposedly against the chill. "It would be good to get inside. I can smell thosse cookies already." His actual tail is tucked around his waist, with added padding. A fattened, infernal Friar Tuck.
Grandma Ingrid offers a bright big smile to the two new commers. "Oh granny is so glad to see you all." waving the other cultist to the side. "Password dearies in a moment." He reaches into a box and pulls out two large snickerdoodle cookies and offers one each to the new commers, "Try a sample now, you simply must. If you do not like sugar cookies, I have other kinds." the woman smiling widely. Then then blinks and glances to Svarshan, "You get inside quick, shame on you. Shame. You should know better then go around marked like that, we are fightning evil, not trying to become evil. Shame!"
Taking the cookie, Elisabeth makes as if to wait on eating it. Later, when not being directly looked at, she'll simply put the cookie into one of her pouches, rather than eat it.
Ga'Elian awaits his turn and mimics what he witnessed the earlier cultists do, saying "Water in the Blood" at the appropriate time. <infernal>
The grandma hawkish eyes never leave the two newcommers, "Now now, no entering unless you try my famous cookies." her smiles staying friendly. She waves to Ga'Elian to let him and Svarshan in with out looking their way.
"Old marks, grandmother, before my salvation. Forgive me. Charn...you know how it is." Svarshan says warmly. He steps forward as though to embrace her, before uttering Infernal's hateful nuance. He stands back, then, and looks to Roselle and Elisabeth. "I hope you'll learn, as I have."
Roselle accepts the cookie with another respectful dip of her head towards Granny. "Thank you, Grandmother," she purrs. A slanted glance at Svarshan and her mouth twists faintly into a crooked, almost malicious grin. She says nothing, however, just jogs Elisabeth's elbow very casually, waiting until Svarshan - all deities be praised - provides a distraction so she can bite into the cookie. Well, she does actually take a chunk out of it, and chew. Swallowing it, however...maybe not.
Elisabeth pulls out her cookie, saying "Thought I could save it for later and ask for another, too", as she lifts it for a bite... also chewing and hoping for a chance to not have to swallow it.
Svarshan smiles encouragingly. Then, tugs the cloak and its hood down more firmly against the wind, and tucks his hands in. NOT AT ALL A CULTIST. He will totally make a little sign. And hang it on his back.
Garrin is here! He's totally here. Arrived wearing DASHING robes.
...as dashing as an all black set of robes can be. Okay, so they're not dashing, but Garrin clearly wishes they were.
"If we are to get inside, and the only way inside is to eat her treat, does that not give us one way to succeed in this mission?" asks Lysa softly as she approaches in her robes... worn over her regular clothing choice.
Her voice does have a northern accent. "I will eat one." she adds as she arrives. Still speaking softly.
Roselle tilts her head slightly and slants a glance at Elisabeth, brushing cookie crumbs from her fingers. She hasn't finished the one she's holding, just bitten into it. "Let's go in or we'll be late," she urges, and her voice has taken on an oh-so-slightly-restful quality. "Evils of the world, and all that. Mmmm. This is good, Granny, thank you."
Ga'Elian stays near to Svarshan, but basically tries to blend in and draw no attention.
Elisabeth glances over at Roselle... then smiles brightly. "Yes... let's go in and hear about the evils of the world", she chimes in, trying to sound happy and sedate.
Grandma Ingrid smiles to the newcommers, "inside inside, we are running late. She motions for Rosella and Elisabeth to follow after as well, "Welcome to the Order of the Black Silver." she offers and then shakes her fingers at Lysa, "Soon enough dearie. Only new commers get cookies at the. There will be plenty downstairs for you." With that she leads them down to the basement. There are about twenty people all gathered sitting at tables, which have heaps of various cookies on them. Rosella and Elisabeth is motioned over to a table. Another man walks up to a small stage and pulls off his hood. He is a reconizable scribe some of them have met, the very guy who gave the map to the prison. He glances around, "Welcome all welcome all!"
When one of the 'recruits' compliments grandmother's cooking, Svarshan laughs aloud, and throws an arm around Roselle's shoulders. He smiles in a fatherly way, this Tuck. In the meanwhile, he looks comfortably around them. His other, he drops around Ga'Elian. Just cultist friends.
Nodding, Lysa shrugs. "Too bad. I liked the cookies." she offers before she turns and heads on inside. She makes sure her hood is up as she does so, keeping her hands holding her robes shut and all. She's doing her best to stay out of the way at this point. She's charming, but not really fantastic at underhanded schemes.
Elisabeth lets herself be led and sat at the table, right next to Roselle, if she can manage it without dropping her laconic act... and smiling the whole way.
Roselle gives Svarshan a crooked grin as he drapes an arm around her. Relaxed, completely at ease with the world, even. She studies her surroundings with curious eyes, head tilting like an inquisitive sparrow. Somewhere along the way, she's lost the remnants of her cookie, but it doesn't seem to bother her. "So many people," she drawls lazily. "Saving the world's a good thing, the more people there are, certainly."
For his part, Garrin is so ready to go insie. He's waiting on the lizard to do so, of course, but he's ready enough. Curiusly, ehglances towards Roselle, Elisabeth and Lysa. These are individuals he does not know. Ga'Elian is checking EVERYTHING out, but taking Svarshan's behavior as an example, tries to look nonchalant about it.
"Yes... saving the world", Elisabeth says in agreement with Roselle, nodding her head as she sits.
Most of the cultist lead their hoods on, but they are starting to eat the cookies. The scribe looks around and smiles, "We have wonderful news in our fight against evil. Our leader Su'Tek, has disovered the bones of ultimate evil. We can soon destory them and bring an end. Though there is bad news. What should of been bones were actually living. Seems that shunting the prison out of the realms of limbo and back to the material realm have allowed the foul celestial to regenerate. Su'Tek needs us to help him gather the supplies needed to bring down the demon. Silver, we need to start collecting silver." The other cultist stop in their cookie eating, and nods in agreement, then all say in unision, "Collect Silver."
'Tuck' pats Roselle's shoulder a few times, then leans over the other way to talk with Ga'Elian. He starts to say something to Ga'Elian, and then spots a familiar face in the crowd. "Collect Silver," Svarshan intones, looking at Garrin briefly and then raptly, towards grandmother.
Elisabeth glances about, and repeats, "Collect silver", with everyone else. Leaning towards Roselle, she says, quietly to the woman, "You can certainly think clearly enough to collect a great deal of silver, I know you can!"
{Foul Celestial...) O O o o . . thinks Lysa. She doesn't shake her head as that would move the hood and get noticed. She does her best to echo the 'collect silver' statement softly, but her blue eyes are moving about, trying to take in any other information.
Ga'Elian repeats the phrase 'collect silver' in a few languages, tradespeak, Infernal, sildanyar, yrch-speak, jotun
Roselle intones, "Collect silver!" with as much verve and fervour as the rest of the cultists. "Hmmmm?" Oh, Elisabeth is speaking to her - she leans over to listen, another little relaxed chuckle trilling in her throat. "Silver? Oh of course I can..." she returns. "As much as anyone else here, I think." Her eyes widen like a cat's, then narrow again and she streeetches like a predatory serpent. "Let's go silver collecting, shall we now." A rasping chuckle and just the hint of a malicious bite to her words.
With a nod in the direction of Svarshan at some unspoken, tacit agreement on things, Garrn casually pockets his cookie. No eating cookies right now. He eyyeeeeees Roselle a bit. Just a bit. "Collect silver," he mumbles, blending in. You paged Svarshan with 'Ros no longer smells of devil'
Svarshan looks at their newest 'recruit' and pats her shoulder a few more times. He takes a step aside, inhaling carefully beneath his hood. Just a cultist. Smokin', smokin'.
"Remember all, the Celestials are the ones who force their will on us. Demanding our obedience and subservience, there is no freedom or libery with the side that calls themselves good. Our liberator seeks to free us from their curruption. Though be ever mindful not all will accept out message of freedom. We though will have those who come to us, and deny our message. Seeking to pervert the truth with their propeganda and darkness. We have one such here to day, a follow of Deus. One our greatest enemies, and so we shall offer her to our Liberator in the traditional ritual sacrifice and eating of her heart. Brother Christopf, I believe you have the honor of the sacrifice today?" The scribe pulling out a dagger, blacked with blood and curved, perfect for cutting out hearts. The other cultist standup and cover the exits, to make sure Elisabeth cannot escape so easily
Elisabeth stands up, smiling... and pushes back the side of her cloak. One hand makes an upward-tossing motion, and a little flame (an ioun torch) begins to orbit just above her head. Then her sword comes out of its sheath and she says to the man with the knife, "Nice blade... but mine's bigger!", as she lifts the shiny, steel blade into ready position.
Roselle stands up, right next to Elisabeth, and waves her hand at the cultist holding the dagger. "Why on earth are you bothering with HER?" she notes lazily, eyes half-lidded and glinting bright. "Small potatoes! Not worth half the trouble of getting all bloody and singed and whatnot. There are other bigger, better, more WORTHY targets. Pffft. You can't save the world with one /little/ follower of Daeus you know. I thought you had higher and loftier ideals than that..." Her gaze drifts to Svarshan and a twisted, wicked grin curves her lips. "And he's got the right idea, that one, hasn't he?"
Several of the cultist back off, including brother Christopf. Uhh yea you can have this one. Seems the cookie did not work on her..."
"*I* suffered at their hands. That honor should go to *ME*," 'Tuck' says, proudly. He looks towards Elisabeth with the sort of contempt reserved for people who don't hate kittens quite enough. Roselle, though. He jerks towards her. Considering. "We could make the Liberator proud," he says, in a sing-song voice.
"Hmph... coward!", says Elisabeth to the knife-wielding man. "You speak of saving the world, and lack any and all real conviction." She does, however, shift her gaze to Garrin... she doesn't know him, and if he's serious about coming after her in place of the idiot with the knife, he could be trouble.
(What about 2 Daeus followers?) O O o o . . thinks Lysa as she stands off to one side. But.. she's tired of cloak and dagger. She merely shucks her robes and pulls out her shield.. the sky blue field with the centerpiece looking like a flaming sun icon. "Justice and protection to all who serve the cause!" she calls out as she draws her own sword. It's a longsword, but forged a bit differently from the normal ones this far south. Still, it is sharp steel, and she proudly bears the symbol of Daeus. "Which will you choose now?" she asks aloud. She's.. sure, a Paladin, but being a Paladin doesn't mean you're not an ass at times. "Come on. I will let you meet your liberator right now!" she cries out as she advances on Tuck.
At the sight of a second Daeus followers the cultist decide running away is the best option. There is a suddenly flurry of movement as they all take a different direction and start to flee.
"Take alive the one with the knife!", calls out Elisabeth, pointing at him with her sword. She's still eying Garrin, too. To Roselle, she questions, "Do you know him? Is he with us, or 'gainst us?"
As Brother Tuck rises and goes forward, Brother Mark (Ga'Elian) rises and throws off his disguise. Out comes the whip, Indiana Jones style. He shouts, "You are all nothing but sacrificial lambs to the power of Sul'Tek! The silver you wish to collect is as nothing compared to the mana from releasing your souls!" He lashes his whip at Brother Cristoph's neck, as if he would disarm him of the head he's carrying upon those shoulders.
Svarshan looks, considering, towards Roselle. Then, as though under some sort of possession, turns towards Lysa. Who now has the blade ou--he stares at her a moment. "Worthless sacrifices," he says, spitting. Then, lunges towards grandmother. If he has to, he'll fly.
"...oh good," says Garrin after a moment of staring at Lysa. He puts a hand over his face.
As the people begin to flee, and Elisabeth announces her intention of taking the knife wielding guy alive, Lysa nods and surges forward to try to bonk the guy out with her shield even as she turns towards the rest and roars, "HALT!" to the fleeing cultists. She's not the -most- intimidating gal, but she's trying to at least make them hesitate.
The cultist find doors closed, ways blocked, and clearly get intimidated by the way they are being screamed out. These are normal people caught up in something they could not fight against. They throw down their weapons and cower, "Please, all we want is our freedom!" Every single cultist is accounted for, except for one. Grandma Ingrid is missing from the group. Having not been seen since the scribe took the stage.
"With," Roselle answers tersely, in answer to Elisabeth's question about Garrin. Her focus has shifted now, from the fleeing cultists to the door of the basement. Dark eyes narrow sharply. What she's done is not entirely clear, at least until the first cultist to the door gets there - and promptly starts yelling and tugging at it to try and get it open. Nope. No dice. The damn thing remains steadfastly locked, and the tall half-Sil bares her teeth in satisfaction. "At least no one's pink with blue spots this time, Vardama's singed hair and balls..." She then turns her attention to the rest of her comrades-in-arms, to see what, if anything else, needs doing.
Garrin pulls a sap out. And began whapping people with it. Or even THREATENING to whap people with it. This works well enough for him.
Elisabeth looks about the room, after being told whose side Garrin is on. "The old woman got away... for now, let's deal with this rabble", she says, stomping towards the man with the dagger and pointing at him with her sword. "Drop the weapon, or do you wish for me to actually consider you a threat?", she asks of him.
The man with the daggers it, "yes yes of course! Don't enslave me!"
The man with the dagger drops it, "yes yes of course! Don't enslave me!"
He can't find her. She's-- "Sshe left." And he doesn't know how he missed her. Svarshan stares at the door, seething. ...and begins to scent the air.
Ga'Elian calls out, "Lord Gilead, I name Grandma Ingrid as my quarry. Bless me to find her ere the night passes." At this a spectral image of a pair of great stag's antlers appears on the elf's head. "Hunter? Did you ssee anything?" Svarshan asks Ga'Elian. He jogs, hopping onto the stage. "Here. ...the trail vanisshes here. Hunter!"
Once the people are secured, the scribe is placed in custody and the dagger reclaimed, Lysa makes her way over towards Elisabeth and smirks a bit. "Dame Lysa Hrolfdottr of Daeus, here to offer my support." she announces as she sheathes her sword. Her voice has a rather thick Northern accent but... hey, she's here to help right? "They really thought they could sacrifice a priestess of The Shining Knight?" She asks as she turns to regard the prisoners...
You paged Ga'Elian with 'An illusion covers a hole in the stage.. the trail leads down that.'
Svarshan falls to all fours. He looks odd now, half-disguised, half scaled. After a moment, he stops near part of the stage. "There'ss an opening here," he says. He looks over towards the shaking cultists, the rest of the party. "We can follow, but it will grow cold, fasst. If sshe getss to the ssummoner, sshe will. Warn him."
Elisabeth steps forward, nodding to Lysa. "We are not here to do you any harm, but to free you from the influence of the darkness that has invaded your mind, kind sir", she says, as she sheathes her sword to reach out and place a hand on the head of the man who threw down the sacrificial knife. "You need only allow the light of Daeus give you the strength to throw off the darkness that has enspelled you", she says to him, then says, in the Celestial tongue, <<Shining One! Please, let these people see your light that they might follow it away from the darkness.>>
The man screams in terror, "She is enslaving my mind!" Reaching up and starting to claw at his face, and drawing blood. His blood is a shade darker then it should be.
And that is when Lysa sighs and reaches to try to restrain the fellow, "She is trying to free it from the compulsion you are under. Daeus would never enslave you. His light shines to free others. He exists that others might exist."
The man calms down a little, but still clearly paniked, "All I want is my freedom..."
"... this man is... what -is- that?", Elisabeth asks, eyes wide, as she reaches out to pull the man's robes away from his body to reveal what she's seen. "Don't worry, sir... we will free you from... whatever this is... do you know what it is?"
Roselle's been making her way towards Garrin, as he plies the sap at will and good measure. "I think you can save that for another time," she comments wryly with a crooked smile. "Come on, let's see if we can find Granny... She pauses sharply as the cultist begins to scream, the very tip of one ear twitching juuuust a bit as if a fly's landed on it. Especially at the blood he leaves in wake of the scratch. "...I think," she says, brow drawing together sharply, "He might be charmed to take hurt from anything Celestial in nature. Or at least programmed to believe it. I could try something else that might work." A glance over towards Ga'Elian and Svarshan. "Go quickly? You're better hunters and can move faster."
"Then you and I wish for the same thing then." agrees Lysa softly. But she tries to catch Elisabeth's eye and with her own bright blue orbs, she glances pointedly down at the man. . . at his skin and the pulsing stuff.
The man as he is derobed and left naked before all, has black silver webs across his chest and down to his legs. They are pulsing and have a very demonic evil feel to him. He uses his hands to cover himself and shrinks back, "My marks of freedom!"
"WEll, yeah. It's stopped being necessary," says Garrin, pocketing the sap. He's thankfully not had to employ it TOO much as most of them were quick enough to surrender.
He grins towards Roselle, though, drops his hood to reveal that he's a soulless ginger (no doubt to everyone's dismay) and says, "Yeah. Using this thing is particularly..." He waggles his eyebrows, "..sapping."
Svarshan looks down towards the hole, then back. He chuffs underneath his breath, and looks over towards Roselle, and the cultists. "...we can't. We need to take them--all of them--to the Altheanss. Who here can disspel?" he asks.
Narrowing her eyes, Lysa mutters, "The webbing quite literally follows his veins.. and arteries. I believe it is an infection within the blood, if not some magically invasive effect. Fiendish perhaps even, but I cannot speak to what it is so much as.. -where- it is at the moment.
"The dispelling of magicks is beyond my meager abilities, yet", Elisabeth says, sadly, in reply to Svarshan's question. To the man with the black stuff on him, she says, "Remain calm... we will do what we can to free you of this terrible influence... do you know what these black... veins... are?"
Roselle grimaces. "I can, but I don't know if it will work on something like /this/," she returns to Svarshan. But not before /eyeing/ Garrin and cuffing him on the shoulder and growling, "That was /abominable/." She turns her gaze to the rest of the room and her eyes narrow, focusing in particular on the man Lysa is attempting to heal. Lifting her right hand, she places index finger and thumb together, then lightly blows a puff of air, as if she were dispelling a dandelion into the atmosphere.
"When the grandmother fed her," Svarshan nods to Roselle, "Sshe began to sscent of demon and her. Sstrength began to change. Thiss may be the what that enchantment led. To." Pauses. "But I do not know." Then, "Garrin?" he asks. EMPHASIZING THE WORDS SUBTLY.
The man looks down to his black vein markings, "Grandam Ingrid says that they are the markings of my freedom. Makes me immune to your charms and ways, freeing me from celestial corruption." The man starting to gain a little confidence in his words, "I am the most free of all of us, next to Grandma."
"OH NO. We can't let anyone have the demon cookies! LEt me just take these and stuff them in my pockets!" Garrin begins to stuff the cookies in his pockets for the time being. After Roselle cuffs him and Svarshan spekas, that is. He nods towards him, though, and adds, "Uh... I sorta skipped class in 'dispel magic day'," he adds, coughing delicately once.
"When have I tried to enslave you? I have brought His light into the room, and nothing else. I have done nothing to harm anyone here... but at her behest, you wished to cut out my heart, to end my life. Where is the good in that?", Elisabeth says to the man, sadly.
Svarshan gives Garrin a long, disappointed look. It is one of those sad looks that ends with: 'and this weekend, no one's makin' waffles, and we are totally spending a month in prayerful meditation and confessionals until cheerfulness in discipline is reached.'
"I'm /sorry/," Garrin says to Svarshan, "I'm not good at that part of magic, okay?!" He clears his throat.
Roselle grimaces all the more as she carefully observes the cultist. "I'm sorry. It's not working." A faint twitch of her mouth in apology to Svarshan, and then Garrin is suddenly Stuffing Cookies Into His Pockets, after Svarshan's VERY SUBTLE INJUNCTION, and she just /eyes/ him again. Although her mouth twitches further. "Be careful with those," she adds, and bends to look at the cookies carefully. She doesn't touch them, noticeably. Not yet. Her head tilts slightly. You paged Svarshan with 'The blood, something about the blood. I suggest you let Lysa pose first, let the younger player have a moment?'
"It looks like his blood -is- infernal. The energy is either -in- his blood, or it is his blood." offers Lysa as she steps back from the man. "I would think that would be very painful."
Roselle draws her head back in a sharp, serpentine gesture, punctuated with an equally serpentine hiss. "I do believe," she rasps, eyes narrowing. "Granny is poisoning her cultists. These cookies have a strange smell like blood. And an even stranger colour. This is blood magic of a sort perhaps - potent magic. No wonder earlier on it clouded my mind. We should take these back to destroy them after we have them studied. Who knows, perhaps we can find out what exactly is in them...and if there is blood, there /must/ be someone whose blood it is." Her smile is Very Not Nice, her teeth baring in a fierce grin.
There is a sudden and loud screetch of a females voice coming from below the stage, then silence.
Svarshan looks over, quiet. Listening. "If that hass happened... A demon iss not a mortal. It iss an essence. That essence iss Evil, and itss will belongss to the Hellss. It iss why, barring actss of the divine, they cannot be converted." He stops there. Lets the implications set in. "Sso long ass that blood iss pressent and active. ...they will remain as they are."
"Probably the old woman's... if she's actually a woman and not some infernal or diabolical beast trying to enslave the minds of these poor townsfolk", Elisabeth says... then there's the screech, and she adds, "Perhaps our hunter has caught his prey..."
Ga'Elian emerges from the 'wall' with the fiend that was Grandma Ingrid firmly grappled. She has a broken arm, too. He calls, "Milord, wouldst thou interrogate this she-devil or should I despatch her?"
Grandma Ingrid does not look the same as she was before. She is half naked, and half her body is a black silver that pulses. She is out cold at the moment.
"Did I lie to you, as Ingrid did, sir?", Elisabeth says to the vein-covered man, with a gesture to the unconscious fiend. "Will you allow me to take you to my temple? Will you allow me to seek the aid of others to cleanse you over its blood, with which it has infected you?"
The man humpfs at Elisabeth, "Do I have a choice? Subject me to your mind games and mental control, I will not subvert to the celestials and so called good gods will. I am not infected, i am liberated!"
Roselle tilts her head thoughtfully at Svarshan for a considered moment. "...Just don't eat the other cookies," she murmurs to Garrin absently. Then she picks up one of the Infernal Cookies of Doom, and brings it over to Svarshan. "You said you could smell demon when I changed, after eating these. Is this demon blood, and if it is, could you possibly /find/ the source of it?" The racket from under the stage startles her and she gives vent to a /hiss/ and an extremely pungent curse in Yrch. When Ga'Elian emerges with the Thing Wot Was Grandma Ingrid, she wrinkles her nose, frowning even more at the black and silver that covers half her body. "Well. No healing /that/ one, not yet."
"He's right, you know," says Garrin, agreeing with Svarshan, "Demons are pure evil. They don't belong in this world. And everythign ABOUT theis evil. Everything they touch is poisoned or harmed." He glances toawrds Roselle, concernedly for a moment, before back to the otehrs. He moves towards the fallen woman, though. "That's... interesting." He squints.
Svarshan leans over to scent the cookies, as asked. He keeps his eye on the hunter and the prey, however. Who knows what mischief the grandmother might get up to?
"You always have a choice, my dear man", Elisabeth replies. "If you truly wish to remain as you are, I will not force it upon you. This is why I ask... instead of feeding you cookies to trick you into taking on an infection", she says. "If you truly wish to leave... though it saddens me that you would choose to remain as you are, you may leave. Please... open the door and let him choose his path", Elisabeth says, more loudly, as she rises and backs away from the vein-covered man.
The man is already back on his feet heading for the nearest exist. He does not hesitate even a split second in waiting.
"Free will requires choice." suggests Lysa as she steps off to one side, keeping herself out of the way, but on hand to intervene should her help be needed.
"The War of the Brotherss was over free will," Svarshan says absently, as he takes in the blood-scent. "Daeuss ssaid, creation sshould be sset free. The Tyrant ssaid it sshould be held. Ssomeone touched in thiss way would not possess full will." He straightens, looking over. "Thess ssmell of devil."
Roselle glances at Elisabeth. "If he warns the summoner, or whoever else it is behind this, things may turn even uglier," she says quietly. "I'll unlock that door but /only/ after we've determined there's no other alternative. What if he goes out infecting everyone else? That blood is already potent." At Svarshan's comments, she nods. "Can you find the one whose blood it is?"
The man pauses a moment and looks over to Svarshan and then over to Elizabeth, "Wait that doens't make sense, why would a manipulative mind controller like Daeus advocate for freedom."
Ga'Elian has Ingrid in a strangle hold, and asks her roughly, "Who's blood is in those cookies?"
The sith-makar tilts his head to the side. Not playing a role, he's more thoughtful, his speech slower. ...or nonexistant. He looks towards the grandmother, recalling the screams from earlier. Then, drops to his fours and goes over to check. "Herss is the sstrongesst. Everyone ssmells like her." He falls to a crouch there, still thinking. He barely hears the man's question.
"A people who thinks they're free, when they aren't, is more easily manipulated," points out Garrin to the man. "I mean, look at how far you've already come? You need help. A ot of it." He glances towards Svarshn and pats him o the arm. "Fortunately, we have just the fellow to deliver it. Hey, Svar. This is Svarshan, PALADIN OF THE LIGHT. Also, come on. There's demon blood in the cookies."
"Daeus and those who truly follow him stand for truth... and free will", Elisabeth says to the man. To Roselle, she shakes her head. "No... if he truly wishes to leave, let him leave now. It -must- be his choice. That is how the Shining One, the Master of Law, the True Metal would have truth and freedom be. Let him go, if he wishes to go. Please."
Grandma Ingrid offers a wide grin, "Su'Tek's blood, all of it is his blood. It bends the mind to his will. He got me a long time ago, and for that i have been blessed by him. You will find plenty of the blood down in the wine celler. Each and every bottle of wine in his blood." The man stares at the woman, "Wait..." Rubbing his head as if in great pain.
"If you choose to leave, sir... and if you, later, change your mind, ask for Elisabeth du Leoncorte at the temple of Daeus", says the priestess to the man, standing right where she is. She flinches at the sound of the breaking bone, though; that clearly wasn't something she liked to hear.
While some Paladins might object to that treatment, the woman is in service to fiends. She is of the school of... actions deserve consequences. She nods as Ga'Elian does that to Ingrid. "Fiendish, as I suspected." But her eyes light up .. no not literally.. at the mention of another Paladin. This place has more Daeusites than some churches.
"We have many of the faith, here. Ssa, Ingrid. Evil failss becausse it--" and then the hunter goes for the demon's legs. He lunges, grabbing hold of the demon and rolling them both out of the way.
Ga'Elian releases his captive and allows the rescue to go unopposed.
Roselle is watching Svarshan now, although it's clear she's still listening to whatever else is going on. She doesn't answer Elisabeth, not right away - her gaze does go to Grandma Ingrid and she studies her for a long while with calculating, glittering eyes. "Choice and free will do not necessarily go hand-in-hand in the world of demons and magic," she rasps finally. "Daeus may wish for truth and freedom, but this is /not/ any of that, not in this tainted place. But, I am Eluna's Inquisitor, not her paladin. So be it then." A glance sent at the door, and it unlocks itself. The minute Svarshan moves though, she drops back, tense, in case she needs to help with anything.
Grandma Ingrid cackles with glee as she is about to her her legs broken. Then cackles some more as she take the grapple and save and then bites right down into Svarshans flesh!
"Thank you, Roselle", Elisabeth says. She then gestures to the door and says to the man: "The way is open for you. You may leave, if you wish to." Then she turns away to look at the fiendish Ingrid, just as she's biting down...
Snarling now, Lysa surges forward, her sword coming out of its scabbard as she strides up to Ingrid and Svar. She points her weapon at Ingrid and snarls out, "Cease!"
The paladin goes still, for a moment. Svarshan then twists, slamming his elbow against her. He begins to follow with a wrestler's move when his expression changes, and goes still. Then, something else happens, instead. Brurning, brilliant light flashes, as strong as sunfire.
Ga'Elian jumps away (without the panache he might have wanted), then draws a longbow from a quiver that is much too small for it. Immediately afterwards, the bow is nocked with a silver-tipped arrow, aimed at Ingrid. The archer waits to see what Svarshan will do.
For a few moments Ingrid screams, then she turns into ash, leaving nothing left.
...the demon becomes ash. Ash falls to the floor. Svarshan remains crouched there a while longer. His expression, unlike when he was acting, is absolutely still. It adopts no smiles, no grimace. So, "...for a moment. I felt how sstrong that wass. The Dragonfather'ss own claws protect me from possession. We are dealing with. ...something terrible. And sstrong."
After all of that, Lysa watches with remorseless eyes, and then she reaches a hand down towards Svarshan, offering to help him up, "Rise in the Shining Knight's grace." she offers softly.
"The cache of bottled demon's blood should be destroyed, as well", Elisabeth suggests, then glances back to see if the man to whom she offered the freedom of choice is still there, or if he's actually left.
Svarshan looks up at her for a moment. Too many words there, and he isn't good with them. "In the Dragonfather'ss," he says, emphasizing the words in that way, as he stands, taking her hand. Well, the sith-makar are proud. Ga'Elian returns his silver arrow, unfired, to his quiver, followed by the longbow. He says, "She said there was a stockpile of devil blood stored below--bottles and bottles of it."
"He has many names, does he not?" asks Lysa softly. "Dragonfather is a good one too." She adds. As she helps him up she asks, "You are well, yes?" in as private a whisper as she can come up with.
Roselle hasn't moved, she's just merely lifted one hand as if she's about to throw something. The sudden bright light makes her squint and curse in Yrch yet again, as she draws one arm up to shield her eyes. When the demon is finally reduced to ashes, she grimaces slightly. "You're all right then?" she asks of Svarshan, before nodding to Elisabeth's comment. "We should at least destroy that..." Her eyes glint with sudden feral brightness. "I don't even mind setting some of it on fire m'self, if I'm sure burning it up won't do worse damage."
"The sshamans. I need my sshamans. ...and thosse here need their own prayers, and godss, and templess." A look to Lyra. The inner lids flicker. "The blood...ssa. But where will we get a big enough. Fire?"
Uh. Oh.
"We would not wish to start a blaze in the center of town. Wooden buildings burn easily enough. But.. what -can- we do? I have yet to be taught how to purge the blood of a demon from the world." offers Lysa. She is quite young. She can't have seen twenty winters yet.
"The holy light of the Shining One, of the Dragonfather", says Elisabeth. "We will try that, first, to see if that destroys the vile stuff. If that fails, we will try more conventional fire... after we take it to the temple, where it can be safely so burned." With that said, she starts for the tunnel to the basement cache.
Ga'Elian says, "I could mix it with holy water, but I don't think I have enough."
Svarshan takes some time to collect himself. He thumps his tail in regard, towards the hunter. Towards the... he closes his eyes, lifting his muzzle to the unseen sky above for some time.
The first channeling of positive energy, and half the cultist drop over having been burned by it. The man crumples to the ground knocked out, but still breathing. The black veins on his body having receeded a bit.
Svarshan straightens, and assists. It's time to ask, to call upon Sunfire. In the end though, he'll assist those who can, and can't. To take them to hard-working priests and layfolk.
Roselle glances at Garrin. "Y'might want to get those cookies out of your pocket," she asides. "We'll need to get those destroyed too." She'll assist - not with cleansing fire, but any normal fire, she can provide. "If holy water works," she says wryly, "And someone can cast a water spell that drops a ton of that onto these people and it might help faster."
The cookies also get set on fire from the holy energy burst. Looks liks this place will be burning down after all.
Roselle holds up her hands. "This, I didn't do," she says firmly. "Does anyone have any water we could throw on him? Or...just drop and roll, maybe the fire will put out, IF YOU DON'T SET SOMETHING ELSE ON FIRE."
A thought flickers through Lysa's head... Splash the demon blood on him to put the fire out. But she just shakes her head and then grabs up one of those discarded robes, using it to start beating the fire out on Garrin's hips.
Roselle just shakes her head. "The dangers of cookies. To think I already hate bread and pastry," she grumbles with a sigh. "That'll teach you." That's to Garrin of course. She then goes to help with whatever else needs whacked, flamed, or destroyed since she's aaaaaaall about fire.
The flames the cookies started on the tables are starting to spread fast, the culist have already cleared out of the room and soon the place will be a fire trap.
The fires are soon put out in this room, but it appears the burst reached the wine celler, and a great deal of smoke is coming from the hole in the stage floor.
Several gallons of water down the celler hole later the smoke stops and the fire is out. A quick investigation would show that all of the bottles of wine were set ablaze and no sample of blood remain. You paged Svarshan with 'you get to tell Sandy that no blood samples made it out!'
Roselle's been cursing steadily from the minute the fires started, in a mixture of languages that include Yrch and Infernal freely interspersed. "...Vardama's crooked teeth and borked tits, what is it with fucking enchanted baked goods in this bloody fucking city?" she snarls, after avoiding a falling shower of ash. "Well. That's all clear at least. Unless any of it's seeped into the floor, upon which, /fucking bloody tits of all the maggot goat-gods/, we need a fucking /firestorm/. Let's get out of here once we make sure nothing's left that will burn us, eat us, or turn us into demons."
Augh augh! Garrin is eventually put out, though, and he looks somewhat chagrinned. "I had no terrible plans for those cookies! None at all!"
After all of this, Lysa is soot streaked, sweaty and filthy, but she'd have it no other way. She is not against hard work and such. A blaze here could have burned a large portion of the city down. So she is the last out, and aims herself for the church of Daeus.