Adventure Log XVIII
THE ENEMY OF OUR ENEMY
The thunderous roar of celebration from the stands followed The Flowers as they were lead off the makeshift field and back to where Pilts Swastel, the self-proclaimed Emperor, was waiting for them. His magically amplified voice boomed over the cacophony, “To the victors go the spoils. They wanted two hours, they’ll get two hours!”
The emperor led the way along one of the many rope bridges into one of the commandeered buildings. The clown-faced guards lined their path, and his ominous proclamation had the party tense and waiting for an ambush. Some of the guards congratulated Byron as he passed with hushed voices- their admiration winning out over their fear of the ugly man in charge.
Though lit by sconces, the interior was heavily shadowed. Passageways were only wide enough for two abreast, and a low ceiling added to the impression that they were being guided into their own pen. A small figure darted through them, causing Calli to yelp in surprise. The hooded Gnome, Jabbier, ran ahead into a room, and Pilts chuckled. They followed behind into a small antechamber where the executioner was sat on a tiny bed in a childlike manner, swinging his legs as he watched them enter with his one good eye. Along one stone wall was a gruesome greeting. Fourteen severed heads were mounted on the wall in various states of decay.
“I’ve brought you some friends for conversation!” the Emperor joked with the unresponsive captives.
“Heads up,” Travis quipped, causing Byron to laugh at the dark humour.
Pilts smiled warmly at the barbarians, “Glad you approve.”
“This your handiwork?” the Bear asked. He did not approve, but he wanted to make sure he knew who all would need to answer for it.
“Well of course! My orders, his execution,” he gestured to the Gnome. “They weren’t very community-minded. Refused to share their supplies with the rest of Old Korvosa.”
The dark cleric was closely inspecting the sick trophies with an eager eye. “They’re wonderful! This is quite a collection.”
Calli avoided looking at them, not wanting to be reminded of The Princess’ Bacchanal. Nightingale remained a picture of indifference, and Taylan managed to keep his thoughts to himself.
The next room opened up into a large bedchamber that might have once been mistaken for majestic. The musty room showed mildew built up in the corners. The bed was a good size, but made with stained sheets and threadbare blankets. There was carpet, but paths had been worn into it from years of use. The one window had been securely boarded over, so that the only light came from wall sconces he lit as he guided them inside. The only thing of value in the room were three paintings- that while already expertly rendered, their brilliance seemed otherworldly in comparison to the bleak surroundings.
Within Pilts’ room was a single barred door, which he opened for the group. “Two hours, no more,” The emperor reminded them, before leaving them to their business. He shut the door to the antechamber as he went, and Laori immediately rushed over to the nearest painting.
“These are Salvator Scream’s works!” she cooed. The rest of the Flowers took a moment to see what the fuss was about. Laori explained the first painting depicted her god Zon-Kuthon stepping into Nidal. This was the theocratic land Laori herself hailed from. He was a grey-skinned man with a crown of spikes that erupted from open tears in his bald scalp, wearing a short leather vest that revealed chains connected directly to flesh and ribs of an emaciated torso, and his lips seem to have been removed to make his grimace more horrific. Laori was unable to place the topic of the other two paintings. The second showed camels charging across dunes of tiny skulls. And the final, the most magnificent, is a handsome man removing his own realistically depicted flesh like gloves in delight, revealing brilliant blue dragon scales underneath. Taylan rubbed his wrists as he thought about the white scales he could summon, glad it didn’t require similar flaying. The background was full of people impaled upon spikes. All the paintings had prominent blue colourings tying them together. The cleric explained the paintings were worth quite a bit on the market, but for a collector they’d be invaluable. Everyone could see that even though the topics were grim, they were indeed finely made.
They heard a noise from the small cell and remembered the painter himself still waited. Laori was first through the door, eager to meet the artist behind it all. The room reeked of body odour and paint. A lumpy bedroll was crammed into the corner and an easel was the only other decoration. The Flowers entered to see a look of disappointment on her face as she took in the painting still in progress. A skeletal man who may have been in his late twenties or early thirties stood to the side with a look of hope on his face. He had sunken eyes and was covered in flea bites, and he dropped to his knees to beg, “Please, are you here to save me?! Take me away from here!”
“What happened?” the Elf questioned, ignoring his plea, “It’s lacking… you. Where’s your special spark?”
He was taken aback and feared these were just more fans and not actually saviours. “I keep trying to tell him, my muse is gone. Vanished! I can’t do it anymore. Haven’t been able to for weeks. Please, please tell him to let me go.”
Calli crouched down by the stricken man. “We’re going to try to get you out of here, but we have important questions for you. We’re looking for Vencarlo Orisini, and through him Neolandus Kalepopolis, the missing seneschal. We’ve reason to believe you know something.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, “What do you want with them?”
Gale spoke up, “One is my mentor, and we need the other to save the town.”
Calli nodded, “We’re worried about them.”
“I might know something, but you have to get me out of here first.”
“What did you mean when you said your muse was gone?” Travis realised this could be significant. “When did it go? What was it?”
He ran his hands through his wild hair, “I don’t know what it was. These images would just appear in my mind, intense and unrelenting, and I had to get them out. Then all at once they stopped! It was the day the king died. Not a single one since.” He stood back up and inched towards the door, “But I won’t say anything else until I’m free.”
The Flowers began debating their options. In the discussions Calli warned the others about the strange flashes of trapped personality she witnessed within the Emperor. “He could be a victim in this, too. It sounded like he could be trapped where Travis used to be.” It made an already complicated situation even harder. Clearing his throat, Gale pulled out a glass bottle that seemed full of swirling clouds. He described it as a riot gas that would send people into uncontrolled rage. His plan was to send it through the door into the way they came to keep everyone busy while they made their escape through an exit they would make through the roof. He would give their barbarians the antidote he carried, and in the confusion, they could send them invisibly to go retrieve the Emperor and take him away. Of all the ideas, this became the most plausible. Byron and Travis got to work prying loose boards in the ceiling, while Nightingale burned a small hole in the door with conjured acid. Taylan pulled the blanket from the bed and stopped up the gap under the door to avoid it spilling back on them. While the men worked, Laori asked if they could take the good paintings. She wanted at least one of them, promising to pay a fair price for it. None of the party particularly wanted them, and said she could have one for her assistance and they’d be glad to have gold for the rest. Salvator had no interest in them. She happily removed the canvases from their frames and rolled them up into her bag.
As Gale finally broke his small hole through, he saw Jabbier leap off the bed and run out of the room. They’d been noticed! They sprung into action- Nightingale held the opened bottle to the hole to let the insidious smoke out. He used his free hand to give Byron and Travis invisibility, while Calli patted their shoulders to bestow resistance. In the hall beyond the antichamber, they heard shouting, and they knew the chaos had begun. With a reminder that they’d become visible again as soon as they attacked anyone, Nightingale opened the door long enough for the two big men to leave.
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The air had been shadowy before, but now there was a thick haze that permeated the entire room. In the hall they saw two clown-faced guards trying to tear apart the executioner, but Jabbier was screaming and fighting back with surprising ferocity. They had to time it carefully, but Byron and Travis were able to slip past without being caught in the fight. They moved down the hall back towards the Emperor’s balcony and found the riot gas was living up to it’s name. It didn’t seem possible that one small bottle had created so much of the fog, but it filled every space it reached and continued out beyond. Clowns and thugs were locked in battle in every direction, with only an occasional person trying to break anything up. They soon heard the Emperor shouting over the din and were able to follow it right to him. He was one of those unaffected, and stood shouting orders and insults at his followers trying to regain control of the situation. When that wasn’t effective, he brandished the long rod he carried and spoke an arcane word. A thin green smoke began pouring from its tip, mingling with the haze already in the air, and when it reached some of the nearer minions they began uncontrollably vomiting.
Unseen, the barbarians flanked Pilts, and as one Travis snatched the rod away while Byron snagged their prey in a grapple. Immediately they became visible, and the emperor’s eyes went wide with fear. “Get off me, you fucking goons!” The guards that still had control of their faculties ran over and took swings at the Bear, but he slipped their clumsy attempts with ease. Travis pulled out a smoke bomb of his own, taken off the mad jester they apprehended weeks before, and smashed it to the ground, releasing yet another smoke into the air. This one was dark and made it much harder for people to see very far around them. The Half-Orc used it as cover to make a swift getaway. Byron, slinging Swastel over his shoulder as he moved, ran after him.
More of the clowns began to vomit, a side effect of the smoke bomb Travis didn’t anticipate, and the sounds of combat intensified in the distance as it seemed the riot gas had reached the bleachers still full of audience members. On their return they had to not only avoid active fights, but they also had to start watching out for dead bodies in their path. The emperor struggled on Byron’s shoulder, but couldn’t break out of his vice-like grip. Once back to the bedroom, Travis snapped a pair of manacles on their prisoner, and they were all able to witness what Calli had told them about.
Pilts seemed like a man possessed. One moment he would be cursing and condemning them, but the next he’d be a frightened mess begging them to help him out of the ‘dark place’. Taylan pulled a crusty sock from his pack and stuffed it in Pilts’ mouth, and Laori tied some cord around his face to hold it in as a gag. After making sure they’d removed anything he was carrying, the slowly growing party went up through the ceiling, out through the roof, and down their ropes into the streets below, where they successfully stole away into the night.
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Across Old Korvossa they ducked into an empty building to plan their next steps. Nightingale, the stealthiest of the party, was sent to retrieve Amin Jalento from where he hid within the Akona compound. While gone, Salvator began telling his story. A few years ago when he was gaining popularity, Neolandus became a patron and a friend. On the day of the king’s death he arrived bloody and poisoned. He claimed the Queen had killed the King and joined with Red Mantis Assassins. Scream nursed him back to health and suggested he go ask for sanctuary with the Arkonas, who were also patrons of his. It was a well known secret that the Arkonas and the Queen had no love between them. He hadn’t seen the senschal since. The painter had been discussing the ordeal with Vencarlo when he admitted suggesting the Arkonas. Orisini was furious, claiming they were criminals, and he was in just as much danger there. Vencarlo went after him, and there is most likely where you’ll find them both.
Nightingale returned, with a grateful Amin in tow. The Flowers split up the loot they’d taken off the emperor while Laori did some checks over him. The magic that Gale had seen running on Pilts before their game of Blood Pig was not running anymore. Laori couldn’t find anything that would explain his strange personality shifts, and said they’d have to get him to talk. The Flowers took up readied positions around them, trying to deter any funny business, while Jalento and Scream moved further away to avoid being caught in cross-fire. Once everyone was in place, Laori removed the gag.
The emperor spoke a single arcane word, and vanished.
The casters recognized it as a dimension door spell, which required nothing but a command word to action. The range was large, and though they immediately dashed into the streets to see if they could spot him, he was long gone.
Laori offered heartfelt apologies, but there was nothing any of them could have done to avoid it. The talk became of what their next moves would be. The Flowers clearly needed to follow their missing people, so Laori offered to take their two rescues back to the city proper for them, and apologized that she didn’t actually have the gold to pay for the paintings on her, but she’d owe them for it. Calli, who was already suspicious of the worshiper of The God of Pain, felt this tiny manipulation was just more damning evidence against her. She asked where the cleric would be staying, but Laori became cagey with her answers. She said she had to meet some people to continue their mission, but she wasn’t at liberty to give any details. The idea of there being more of the followers around was even worse. The spikey woman seemed honest about wanting to get Amin and Salvator to safety, though, and with a lack of better ideas, they said their goodbyes.
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Left to themselves once more, and knowing there was a risk the Emperor would know where to find them, The Flowers relocated into a different safe-house and set up watches to rest for the night. It had been a very long day. Calli offered to stand for first shift, as she’d barely used any of her own magics in her bid to remain disguised. It passed uneventfully, and left her alone with her thoughts for too long.
“Nightingale, you’re up,” she whispered to her bodyguard and friend. He’d been lying on his back, arms crossed, with the hood of his priestly robe disguise resting over his eyes. He was the only one of them still wearing the practical makeup disguises she’d crafted for them. He sat up and stretched, then offered where he was laying against the wall for her to take his place. She remained in a crouch, hugging her knees. They couldn’t really make out each other’s expressions in the dark. Keeping her voice low as not to wake the others, she hesitantly asked, “Do you think they hate me? My parents… with the Queen naming us enemies… this is everything they’d feared.”
He scooted closer to her and pulled her into a side hug. He answered gently, “If they feared that the Queen was an undead monstrosity of evil they could’ve warned the rest of us.” She wrinkled her nose and gave a tiny snort of amusement. “No, they don’t hate you. You’re a hero, Calliandra. Your mother could see that. She was helping us, remember? She’ll let your father know the truth, and he’ll have to see what a capable young woman you’ve become. Or he’ll answer to me.” There was no humour in the last bit.
Calli rested her head against his shoulder. “I remember how upset Mumsy was when she heard I’d been there for Gaedren’s death. Today I killed people with my own hands. I felt bad for the wererat Bevin when he was caught in that blast, but we’d tried to reason with him and he made his choice. I didn’t know anything about the men we fought today. I didn’t even try.” Her voice sounded tiny and broken in the night. They’d had many of these midnight conversations over the years, when she couldn’t sleep after bloody dreams.
“We know they didn’t hesitate when ordered to attack us. We saw what those groups have done to the city. The ashes, madness, and blood. They were a part of that.” His voice had an edge to it she didn’t often hear when it was just them.
“They could’ve been under duress. They could’ve just needed a way out. Like those two.” She looked over at two large forms in the darkness sleeping nearby.
“Not everyone gets that chance. I’m sorry, Calli. I’m proud of how you handled yourself. It’s wonderful that you care so much. But you were protecting yourself, and I’m sure your mother will appreciate that you survived. Or she’ll answer to me.” She could hear a smile in his voice that time. That was more like it.
“You know, this is the first time we’ve been able to talk since… that place. How are you?” She felt him stiffen. “And what are you doing out all night, lately?”
“The night air helps me clear my head. I’ll be okay. You should be glad I’m not keeping an eye on your nights anymore! And you should get some sleep. We’ll need you tomorrow, little miss diplomacy.” He gave her a squeeze before standing up, putting an end to the conversation before she could ask any follow-up questions. He removed his robe and draped it over her to give her extra defense against the cold spring night, and retreated to stand by the door for his shift.
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A clear, beautiful morning broke on the 21st of Gozran, feeling out of place against the bleak surroundings of Old Korvosa. The Flowers went over the pros and cons of a stealth vs brazen approach to the Arkonas, and they agreed to try the diplomatic approach first. The Arkonas and the Queen were not friends, and it was very likely they’d be eager to see her dethroned. They could always come to blows if needed.
The Arkona palace was exquisite. Opulence on a level most of them had never seen before. Lush gardens, fountains, intricate mosaics, and statues of animals with jeweled eyes were everywhere they looked. Inside the palace walls they could hardly believe they were still in Korvosa at all. They told the doorman they wanted to ‘discuss a change in leadership of Korvosa.’ The doorman departed, and soon they were greeted warmly by the eyepatch-wearing majordomo of the palace, who introduced himself as Carnochan. He led them inside through halls as equally decorated as the gardens. They passed a large shrine to Chamidu, a Vudrani goddess of wild beasts, that depicted her in her full glory: four faces- one facing each cardinal direction, eight arms bearing various weapons, and riding a tiger with human hands instead of paws. It was known that House Arkona was once destitute before two of them took a ship to Vudra and returned with such wealth that they became one of the most powerful families, and based on their decorations it looked like they’d never forgotten where their fortune came from. He left them settled in a comfortable room with a large fireplace.
Rather quickly Glorio Arkona himself strolled in, friendly and welcoming. The Arkonas were beautiful in feature. He was clearly Melyia’s brother, with the same silky black hair and warm skin tone. He greeted each of them by name, and seemed especially pleased to be meeting Byron. “I saw you fight once, you know!”
“Did you win?” Byron asked.
“Yes you won!”
“And did you win,” he asked again.
Glorio caught on to what he was saying and gave a full-bellied laugh. “Of course I did! I had heard your reputation and bet accordingly!” After chiding Carnochan for failing to produce refreshments and demanding some be brought, he took a seat in a plush armchair and steepled his fingers. “I am sorry my sister Melyia is unavailable,” he directed at Calli, “but I am told she holds you in high regard. Now what can I do for the famed Flowers of Korvosa?”
Calli took the lead. “We bring news from across the narrows. The queen is a monster.”
“Now, I know there are those who don’t support her rule, but I would never use such a term-,” he began.
“You misunderstand me. She has revealed herself to be an actual monster in front of a crowd of citizens. Marcus Endrin shot her in the head with a bolt at point-blank range. She removed the arrow and killed him with it, seeming more upset by the insult than the injury.”
“Well that IS news, indeed!”
“As you can imagine, the people would rather not have an undead tyrant. We hear you happen to have the seneschal hidden away, and he’s just the thing we need.”
He considered his words carefully. “Neolandus came to us, this is true. I’d like to help, but we do have our own tyrant issue here in Old Korvosa.”
“I suppose you want us to deal with that for you, first,” Nightingale surmised.
“Just so.”
Byron perked up, “Are we being commissioned, then?”
“I think it’s more like a trade,” Taylan chimed in. “We scratch his back, he’ll scratch ours.”
Carnochan returned with a wide tray covered in fruit and fine cheeses. With him came another servant with a large crystal pitcher and glasses for each of them. A golden brown liquor was served to each, and then the two departed. Taylan immediately dove in to the snacks. Gale tried one of the cheeses, and it was so good even he began sampling with enthusiasm.
Travis took up Byron’s suggestion. “But we’re putting ourselves in direct danger in both instances, all he has to do is give up a guest. It’s not quite a fair transaction.”
“What would you ask of me,” the head Arkona asked.
“I want a horse,” Byron quickly replied. “A good one!”
“I only have good horses,” Glorio grinned, taking a sip of his glass.
While the men had Glorio distracted, Calli shut her eyes and began gently humming to herself. She reached out with her magic, searching for Vencarlo Orisini with a Witness spell. She found him, but saw nothing through his eyes- they were closed. She heard his labored breathing and put together that their fencing friend was unconscious somewhere within the palace.
Travis and Glorio settled on deposing the Mad Emperor and a private fight at a later date in which The Korvosan Bear would take part in exchange for a good horse and tack. Byron spit in hand to accept, after hesitation Glorio mimicked the gesture and took it in a firm shake. Seeing that Nightingale and Taylan had finished off the food, he also called for Carnuchan to wrap up another bundle for them to take away with them.
While waiting for their to-go package, Calli casually questioned, “Oh, while we’re here, do you happen to know what’s become of Orisini? We tried to check on him but his school’s been burned and his home was empty. We’re concerned.”
“He’s here, with Neolandus.” She couldn’t sense anything amiss in how he said it, but based on what she’d discovered, she knew there was going to be more to it than that.
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As they left the palace, Calli told the others that she’d connected to the unconscious Orisini. They all shared her concern that the two missing men were more prisoner than protected, but they needed to deal with Swastel, anyway, so they proceeded with the mission. The Flowers talked over the possibility that they might not be able to avoid killing Pilts, which distressed Calli to think he may be a victim they couldn’t save as they had Travis. She asked what type of a person he’d been, before the quarantine.
“His playhouse was depraved, seemed he only put on shows for shock value,” Travis recalled, “Torture, murder, ra-", he saw Calli’s brows knit and finished, ”really horrible things.”
“The shows would make out like it all was real. Not part of a story. Just gore and pornography.” Byron added.
Taylan agreed, "And sometimes the people murdered on stage would never actually turn up again.”
“Well that’s horrible! Who’d enjoy that sort of thing? Paying to watch people get killed?” Calli was scandalized.
Byron coughed pointedly.
“I mean, that’s different!” She backpedaled, “You fight in consensual battles of skill that aren’t always fatal. It’s not just hurting people.”
Thankfully they reached the end of the compound and would need to stop talking to make it across town. Taylan cast invisibility sphere on them for trip back across the island, as clown gangs were now everywhere in streets searching for them. Having made this trip many times in a short period of time, they were able to avoid the lot of them and made it back to the painted building serving as his headquarters without an issue.
Nightingale created a magic ladder back up to the roof where they’d escaped the night before. In order for Taylan’s sphere to cover them all on the climb up, however, they would need two of the team to piggyback on two others. The barbarians naturally offered to carry someone. Byron bent down for Taylan to hop on his back.
“Calli, I’ll carry you.” Travis offered.
She slowly nodded, “So Byron will carry Taylan… and you will carry me…”
Byron looked between the Half-Elf and the Half-Orc for a moment before reaching behind him, picking Taylan off his back, and dropping him into Travis’ arms. “I can carry Calli.”
The group ascended to find the hole in the roof remained where they’d left it, so they slipped into the crawl space unspotted. The boards in Pilts’ ceiling had been repaired, however. They could see through the cracks that he’d thrown a fit, destroying everything in the room, including the frames that had once held the paintings.
They became aware of the distant sounds of pig squeals. Nightingale and Focker, moving like shadows, went back on to the roof and crawled until they were overlooking the emperor’s balcony and the field below. There were people running back and forth on the field with piglets, presumably training for Blood Pig. They could hear muttering from below, so Gale carefully used his rapier to prick a hole in the canvas sunshade between them. The Emperor sat on his throne, and nearby Jabbier sat on the bench of the Tall Knife next to a basket of freshly behedded clown heads. Four of the Emperor’s thugs stood guard.
Nightingale signaled for Focker to retrieve the others, and once reassembled, after slitting a few more holes into the canvas, Gale and Taylan coordinated to release fireballs into the balcony at the same time. The massive explosion took those below unawares, and one of the guards was entirely incinerated on the spot. The canvas was tatters.
With a grin, Calli smacked Byron on the ass and cheered, “Go get him!” This wasn’t just encouragement, but was the casting of Jester’s Jaunt, which teleported the Bear from their hiding place to directly next to the emperor himself. He used the opportunity to begin tearing into the scrawny man.
Travis jumped off the roof, bringing his axe down on to one of the guards with his full weight as he fell, carving him in twain as easy as a roast dinner. Focusing as he removed it from the guard, the axe blade began oozing acid and trailing flames. He swung it again at the gnome, leaving a nasty gash, and causing the smaller man to scream in rage.
Beams of energy struck the Emperor, sent from Taylan’s eyes, and Pilts cried out, “Protect me!” His two remaining guards rushed over and began battering at Byron with their brutal looking clubs, but were unable to do much to deter the pit fighter.
Calli began singing support for her men, but it was hardly needed. Byron continued his unrelenting assault on Swastel, which came to a bloody finale as his hands crashed together on Pilts’ skull, bursting it like a melon, and leaving Byron holding the crown he’d been wearing.
Nightingale leapt down as Travis had done, spearing the small executioner like a kebab and filling him with electricity that burst out his eyes and left him a smoking corpse.
Focker glided down onto Byron’s shoulders and hissed at the last two guards, “You’re next.”
The thugs had seen enough. They dropped their weapons and ran, but Byron punched a claw with practiced precision into the neck of one and he gurgled as he fell limp to the floor. The sole survivor escaped without pursuit. Byron put on the crown and walked to the edge of the balcony, where the audience and training players below waited to see what their new ruler would demand of them.
“FUCK OFF,” Byron ordered. It was immediately chaos as people and piglets began rushing for freedom.
The Flowers collected anything worth keeping as they searched the bodies and the rooms within the painted building. They make sure to incinerate the gruesome trophy heads, it was as close as they could get to laying them to rest and sparing their families the terrible scene. In one of the upper floors the ceiling was taller than others, and they spotted small weird creatures hiding in the shadows of the rafters. Chokers. These grey forms were humanoid, but with unnaturally long arms and legs they use to snatch up and choke victims to eat. There were a large group of them, so Nightingale and Taylan didn’t take any risks. They again coordinated their fireball spells, nearly blowing the roof entirely off. One singed monster was left moving after the spectacular attack, but Taylan’s eye beams finished it off. In the ashes they found a pile of human bones, but no skulls, and the question of what they had done with the bodies of the executed was answered.
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Leaving the building the mood on the streets was entirely different. Some were hopeful, some were joyous, some were simply worried what new villain will fill the power vacuum. The Flowers didn’t bother trying to hide themselves on this trip back to the Arkonas, and Byron wore the crown the whole journey. People fell over themselves to stay out of their way.
The majordomo himself answered the door on their return, surprised to see them again so soon, and upon hearing the good news took them directly to Glorio. The Arkona was soaking in a large pool, wearing silk pantaloons and nothing else over his hairy form. Byron rolled the crushed head formerly known as Emperor to the edge where he sat, and tossed the crown after it. Glorio rewarded them with a white, toothy smile, and congratulated them on their efficiency.
“Tall fellow, retrieve my ring from the side there. The one with the green bloodstone.” He pointed, and Byron and Travis looked at each other for a moment. They both stood to their full height and narrowed their eyes. Everyone else could see they were the same height, but they each disagreed. Finally Travis went to get the ring. “Take that as a token of my appreciation. Anyone who wears it would avoid damage from particular spells that they might otherwise have taken.” The party briefly considered who would be best served by it before agreeing it should stay with Travis.
“Now,” Glorio continued, “There’s a slight problem. My sister felt that the best way to keep Neolandus and Orisini safe was to put them in the Vivified Labyrinth deep below the palace. She did this without consulting me, and I haven’t seen her since. I can tell you how to get into it, but I’m afraid you’ll have to recover them on your own, as I’ve never been in it myself. Melyia’s the one familiar with it.”
The Flowers had expected some trickery, but this was beyond their imagination. It took all of Gale’s self control not to shocking grasp the pool then and there.
“There’s a large elephant in the house guarding the passage down. The phrase ‘Chamidu is blind’ will move it. You’ll enter a large cavern, and a few floors down is a secret entrance. There are guardians, strange fungal creatures, that you’ll have to pass to find it. The labyrinth itself is beset with traps, and is made of sections that move via leavers within. Again, my deepest apologies for the inconvenience.” He remained lounging in the water, and though he seemed earnest, none of them believed him. Carnochan stepped forward and raised an arm towards the door, inviting the group to follow him.
They didn’t have much choice, they had to save them- and hopefully the whole town-, so after some sharp words and disapproving glares the party left Glorio Arkona behind.