Adventure Log XII
LE DANCE MACABRE
Byron and Trevor awoke to a surprisingly bright and clear morning. Sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a golden glow that seemed almost out of place given the city’s recent turmoil. The crisp air carried a sense of renewal, starkly contrasting with the grim days they had been enduring. As they gathered their belongings, a mix of determination and apprehension filled the room. They steeled themselves mentally, knowing that while today brought the promise of new opportunities, it also held potential dangers.
Portia arrived, her face alight with rare good news. "No one passed away in the night," she announced, a relieved smile lighting up her face. "Though some are still sick, it's the best news we've had in a long time." A wave of relief washed over the big men, easing some of the heavy tension that had gripped them for days. For the first time in a while, hope flickered in their hearts, bolstered by the knowledge that their efforts might be making a difference.
Despite this glimmer of hope, the city buzzed with rumours, each more fantastical than the last. One claimed that the Queen herself had created "The Flowers of Korvosa." Another suggested that "The Flowers" were the very cause of the plague, while a third rumour painted "The Flowers" as the true heroes, aiding and abetting those in need. These whispers caused a tumult of emotions within the party. Alarm and worry clashed with joy and pride, as they realised how deeply their actions were being scrutinised and speculated upon by the people of Korvosa.
As the party made their way into the heart of Korvosa, the absence of Gina, Otto, and Greta’s school teacher weighed heavily on Byron's mind. Once again he enquired for their whereabouts, but once again he was met with no firm answer. Trevor, ever vigilant, managed to track down Eerie Yelloweyes, the wererat they had helped some time ago. Eerie's information was unsettling—a small band of goblins had been sighted heading east under the city, using the sewer tunnels. The thought of goblins within the city limits, especially given their known alliance with the green dragon, sent a shiver of unease through the group. The implications were dire, and their concern for Taylan deepened.
Halfway across town, the other half of the party had woken at Zellara’s and split up to begin their own morning goals.
Taylan said he had to check in on Naboo’s for Master Roshi, and cheerfully set out on his own. Sleeping in a real bed the past few nights, for the first time in years, was clearly doing him good. His eyes seemed brighter, and while he was usually chipper he seemed to have even more energy than usual.
Nightingale checked in on his parents at the cafe, and was relieved neither had gotten any worse.
Calliandra had left first that morning in her natural guise as the diplomat’s daughter, leaving before most of the city was awake with the thin hope that the blockade keeping South Shore cordoned off would be less manned and possibly traversable through guile or charm. No such luck. At least half a dozen armed guards still kept the two sides apart by a three-metre blockade and a closed gate. The only way in or out was to submit yourself into a quarantine holding room for 24 hours, after which you’d be permitted through. As much as she was worried for her father, she knew she didn’t have that time to spare, and the best way to help him would be to work with The Flowers to end the disease.
She was eyeing the walls of the city wondering if The Flame would have tips on how to breach it unseen when her father’s personal aide, Navit, arrived for their meeting. The tall, thin, elven man was immaculately dressed in the formal but functional garb adorned with dark green braided vine ropes that marked him out as one of the Mierani envoy. Speaking in Draconic to reduce the number of prying ears, they loudly called across the blockade to each other. He gave the worrying news that her father had been ill for days, and is quite bad, but they did have a healer helping. She instructed the aide to pass on a message to her father, making clear it needed to be delivered in exactly the same way:
"This brings to mind the Well Disaster of 4068.” She switched to common for the second half of the message, as she knew this info did need to spread to anyone listening, “There are counterfeit silver coins. It’s quite insidious. Make sure no one deals in silver, have the Bank check the coins." The aide looked at her a bit confused at first, but his eyes went wide with recognition as he understood the significance of her message. The Well Disaster was a terrible moment in the wood elves’ history in which a whole settlement suddenly became terribly ill. Many had died before the source was tracked to the water taken from a particular well, and further investigation found that a vile fiend had moved in upriver where the water was sourced from. The creature’s foul slime was to blame, and after it was dispatched and the water purified, life returned to normal. He had made the connection she had hoped, but she made him repeat it back, just in case. Returning to Draconic, she then told him that as soon as they were healed he and father should submit to the 24 hour hold and temporarily move to Eudicot manor. Calliandra warned him there had been big things afoot in the city proper, and it would be better if both her parents were safe in the same place until things had settled. She also asked him to keep an eye out along the wall dividing the two parts of the city and make note of any places that seemed more accessible than others. Just in case. Navit swore he’d get the messages to Perishial, and the two parted. It was later than she’d intended it to be, she’d have to skip visiting Eudicot Manor for now. As she returned to Zellara’s she wondered if her father would believe her, if he’d understand the urgency, and a darker place in her worried if she’d ever see him again.
The party regrouped at Zellara’s late in the morning as prearranged, but Taylan never appeared. A knot of worry tightened in their chests. Trevor let the rest of the party know what Eerie had said about goblin’s heading east- the same direction Naboo’s was in. The group decided not to wait any longer, but go to Naboo’s themselves, hoping they were wrong and that nothing had happened to the young half-elven sorcerer.
Navigating the winding streets of Korvosa, the urgency of their mission mingled with the city's ever-present tension. They passed through neighbourhoods that were both bustling with wary activity and eerily quiet, reflecting the city's fragmented state. Each step they took was heavy with anticipation and dread, the weight of their responsibilities pressing down on them.
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Upon arriving at Naboo’s, the shop of oddities and Master Roshi’s home, the party noticed all the blinds and shutters were closed. This wasn’t unexpected, as they knew Master Roshi was away on a quest at the moment, but not being able to see in to the building did nothing to ease the tension. The door was locked from the inside, deadbolt firmly in place. Calli, ever resourceful, used her mirror to slide under the door. With the reflection, Nightingale cast Mage Hand, carefully lifting the deadbolt on the other side. As the door swung open, it jingled the shop bell, making obvious their entrance.
Inside, the room was swarming with goblins picking over the place, stuffing things into pockets and pouches. Ten in total. Among them, two stood out with leathery wings, dragon-goblins with a menacing aura. These two they recognized from the ambush in the woods outside of town. Two more goblins loomed over an unconscious Taylan, their malicious grins sending a chill down Trevor’s spine. Gale cried out, “That’s our urchin!” and one of the winged sisters pointed at The Flowers and hissed, “Kill them!”
Trevor tried to intimidate them, his natural orcish ferocity on full display, but the goblins merely sneered. Fueled by desperation, Trevor leaped onto a table, ready to strike the winged goblin who had spoken.
The winged goblin reacted swiftly, exhaling a jet of acid. Trevor winced as the corrosive liquid sizzled against his skin. Nightingale, quick on his feet, cast a magical shield around Trevor, protecting him from a second attack from a nearby goblin. The other winged goblin whistled loudly, and the party knew that couldn’t be good. Calli, determined to even the odds, ran into the centre of the room dodging clawed swipes from the small enemies, and unleashed a magical sound burst towards the largest cluster of goblins, damaging six goblins and stunning four.
Two goblins seized the opportunity, grabbing Taylan and bolting through a back door leading to the alley behind. Byron ran in after Calli and with a swift, deadly movement, his claws sliced one of the goblins who’d attacked her in half. Trevor, filled with a surge of urgency, leapt off the table and charged after the goblins escaping with their friend, knocking aside others who tried to block his path.
One of the flying goblins pursued Trevor, attempting to stab him in the back. The blow landed but did little to slow Trevor down. The winged sister that stayed inside found less luck trying to strike Nightingale. Two dragon-wolves joined the room from upstairs, answering the earlier whistle. Their entrance added a new layer of danger to the already chaotic scene.
Nightingale focused his energy, electricity crackling through his rapier as he plunged it into the flying goblin attacking him. The creature convulsed and then collapsed, fried from the inside out. He remembered how it got away after he fried it in the woods, and ensured that this time it would stay dead.
Calli tried to cast a spell to hold the remaining winged goblin in place, but their draconic resistance rendered it ineffective. Two goblins converged upon Calli and slashed into her flesh, while a third shot at Byron with a crossbow bolt that fortunately went wide.
Outside, Trevor saw the goblins dragging Taylan towards an open sewer grate. He sprinted past them, slamming the grate shut just in time to prevent a hungry Otyugh from emerging.
Inside the battle raged on. The dragonwolves joined the fray, one going for Calli and one for Gale. Calli dodged hers just in time, and it instead bit into a stone statue marked for sale on the display behind her. It gave a gruff yelp as one of its fangs broke in the attack. Gale’s succeeded in biting into his offhand arm, but Gale spun his rapier around and plunged it through the beast’s eyesocket up to the hilt. It went limp and fell in a heap at his feet.
Calli was surrounded, but her main concern was getting Taylan back. She tried to shove through to run after where her companions had vanished through the door but was unable to break past, so she drew her own rapier and stabbed weakly at one of the goblins that had cut her. She threatened them in their goblin language, “We’ve already killed one of your masters, do you really want to join her?” Having made herself a target, another goblin moves in to the crowd around her and they all made attacks, but her words had put enough doubt in their heads that none of them were able to follow through.
Three other goblins had surrounded Byron and stabbed out with small daggers, but they did no more than scratch the pit fighter, and he payed them no mind. Seeing Calli completely surrounded he once more came to her aid. Displaying remarkable agility, he stepped up on the display table next to him and made a daring leap over the head of one goblin to land on the back of the remaining dragon-wolf. He roared out, repeatedly plunging his claws into its back until it was as dead as its twin.
Outside, the goblins, frightened by the sight of the Otyugh, dropped Taylan and turned their attention to Trevor. He swung his axe with brutal efficiency, destroying the final winged goblin. The two goblin grunts fled, and Trevor gave chase.
Back inside the shop, the rest of the party fought fiercely. Gale moved in and dispatched two more of the goblins surrounding his young charge with his electrically enhanced blade, but more moved into place. She stabbed out at the same goblin she’d already wounded before the four adversaries subject her to another round of attacks, causing her another chunk of damage. The goblin she’d been piercing then collapsed, having used the last of its energy to retaliate. Byron beheaded one of the nearby small monsters with a gruesome slash of his claws, dwindling the number of living goblins in the room two three.
In the alley Trevor realised he was leaving a helpless Taylan unguarded, and rushed back to the young man. He returned, dragging Taylan away from the grate just as the Otyugh’s tentacles crept searching from underneath. The last thing they needed was the sewer monster to come after them, so he kicked the corpse of the winged leader in the path if it’s appendages, who quickly snatched it down into the hole. Trevor heard the sloppy crunching noises of it feeding, and picked up Taylan’s still unconscious form.
The fight continued inside. Nightingale turned to the goblin in the corner who’d been peppering them with arrows and raised his rapier, reciting a new string of incantations. The rapier turned into a liquefied metal whip, and he lashed out at it, yanking its feet out from underneath it. Calli tried her holding spell again, and managed to freeze one of the goblins next to her, rendering it unable to move. Only one goblin remained able to move freely, and realising defeat was imminent, tried to make a break for the back door. Gale struck him down before he got very far, and when the archer goblin got back up to try his own escape, Byron intercepted and cut off both his route and his life.
As Trevor returned from outside carrying Taylan as Calli was tying up the final goblin. The party regrouped, breathing heavily but victorious. The unconscious Taylan was safe, and their prisoner eyed them with a mix of fear and defiance.
The scene inside Master Roche's house was a stark contrast to the orderly exterior. The once-cosy room was now a wreck. Furniture lay in shattered pieces, and blood splattered the walls and floor. Books, papers, and shattered trinkets were strewn about, evidence of a fierce and chaotic battle. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the musty smell of old wood and dust.
Amidst the destruction, the party quickly decided on a grim but practical solution for the goblin bodies. With a mix of revulsion and relief, they tossed the corpses down the sewer grate, where the Otyugh's hungry maws awaited. The sounds of the creature's feeding echoed up, providing an unsettling soundtrack to their preparations. As they disposed of the bodies, they noticed that none of the goblins were infected with the Blood veil. Probably because none of these creatures had silver coins upon them, only copper.
With the immediate threat disposed of, they turned their attention to the surviving goblin. The creature was bound and terrified, eyes darting around the room, knowing its fate depended on its cooperation. Byron's intimidating presence ensured the goblin would speak quickly.
"Tell us everything," Byron growled, his claws still stained with goblin blood.
The goblin, shaking and wide-eyed, confessed, "The elf, he’s been poisoned. By order of our mistress, Lady Emerald Siren Putrifax Queen of Decay, sworn enemy of the White Maw. She’s here, in Korvosa at some lar di da place."
A collective gasp went through the party. The green dragon was in Korvosa. Calli's mind raced as she recalled an intriguing detail. "Dragons can shape themselves to look like humans," she said. "Recently, a lady called Constance Del la Verte arrived in town, claiming she was looking for a husband. She’s staying at the Posh and Turtle, supposedly the finest inn in Korvosa, on the Avenue of Arms. Del la Verte means Green! I can’t believe I missed that when I heard about her coming to town.”
This sent chills through everyone. Trevor clenched his fists, the image of a winged horror hunting Taylan,was horrifying. "Should we pay this Del la Verte a visit?”
The thought of the party paying Putrifax “a visit” was terrifying and ridiculous to some of the party. Calli pointed out this was a named dragon of legend, they couldn’t just attack it, they’d be dead within rounds. But it did beg the question, why was it here? What did it really want with Taylan? And why had it got the Goblins to do its dirty work to capture Taylan instead of it. It made no sense. Also, by the dragon ‘advertising’ it was in town, was this some kind of invitation?
Nightingale pondered aloud, "It’s puzzling. Perhaps the dragon has another agenda, that we don’t know of."
"Probably. If it just wanted him dead why would they bother with poison? If she wanted to attack the city, she could’ve,” said Byron reasonably, “but either way we certainly can't ignore this. First we need to save Taylan."
The party agreed, Calli used her magic to clean the gore out of the shop in case Master Roshi returned, and they made their way to the Bank of Abadar- but not before Nightingale threw their Goblin prisoner down the sewer grate to the slavering mouth of the ever hungry Otyugh. Justice had been served as far as he was concerned.
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Taylan’s unconscious form was cradled carefully as they moved through the quieter evening streets of Korvosa. Calli used one of their wands to cure those who’d taken damage as they travelled. The tension in the air was palpable, each of them acutely aware of the new danger that now loomed over the city.
Upon arrival at the Bank of Abadar, the priests greeted them with concern. Ishani listened intently as Nightingale explained the situation, and said they could leave Taylan with them to recover.
The priests quickly set to work, using their divine magic to neutralise the poison coursing through Taylan's veins. As the healing energy flowed, Taylan's breathing steadied, and colour slowly returned to his cheeks. Although he was still unconscious, relief washed over the party, though the shadow of the Green Dragon still loomed large in their minds.
With Taylan safe and needing rest to fully recover, the party decided they needed to inform Cressida Kroft of the latest discovery. They headed towards the Citadel, and as they approached, the party couldn't help but notice the diminished presence of guards. The once bustling centre of Korvosan defence was now eerily quiet, a stark sign of the Korvosan Guard’s waning power in the city.
At the gate they saw a young woman in animated discussion with an exhausted looking Kroft. Nightingale recognized her as Deyanira Mirukova, a chorus girl from the Marble Dome. Her usual radiant demeanour was replaced by a look of despair, and she seemed distraught and lost. Nightingale remembered her brother, Ruan, who played the ocarina. Seeing her here at the Citadel, in such a state, was unsettling and curious.
"I'm sorry, we have no men to spare," Cressida was saying, her tone heavy with regret. The young girl's face fell even further, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Kroft then noticed the Flowers approach. Her weary face brightened slightly at their presence. "These are The Flowers of Korvosa, you can talk to them and they might be able to help.” she looked apologetically at the group she’d just volunteered for another mission without running it by them first.
Deyanira turned to them, hope and desperation evident. Even though their plates were already full to bursting with ongoing trouble, they felt it wouldn’t hurt to hear her out, but only after they’d spoken to Kroft. They asked her to wait for them, and told Cressida they needed to talk to her privately. The woman nodded and led them through the familiar path to her office.
Once the door was shut Nightingale stepped forward, "Do you want the good news or bad news first?"
Kroft chose the good news.
He caught her up on the news that the Bank of Abadar would spread the word that thousands of counterfeit coins were in circulation and that the bank would exchange them for real ones. He wanted the city guard, under her command, to aid in the effort to spread word there was only a week’s amnesty. Anyone found with the “counterfeit” coins after this week would face harsh penalties. This should encourage people to get them checked sooner rather than later. This plan offered a ray of hope amid the chaos, but the urgency was palpable.
Kroft's face lit up with admiration. "That’s brilliant! Your detective work and this solution could save countless lives. Thank you. So what’s the bad news?"
Calli took over. "We’ve also discovered that a green dragon is in town, an old one, disguised as a rich noble named Constance Del la Verte. She’s staying at the Posh and Turtle. We’re going to go talk to her tomorrow, but if we go missing we wanted you to be warned."
Kroft's eyes widened, the weight of the revelation crashing down on her. She looked momentarily lost, unsure how to respond. The severity of the situation was overwhelming, and she seemed on the verge of despair. To regain composure, she quickly changed the subject. "There's something else. Could you help this young girl, Deyanira Mirukova? Her brother has gone missing. He was hired to work one of those ridiculous parties at the Carowyn’s Shoreline Way residence and hasn’t returned. I know it seems minor compared to the plague and a dragon, but she needs help."
Calli’s heart ached at the mention of a missing brother. Byron said the Carowyns “need a slap” for throwing parties in the middle of a plague. Everyone agreed. Calli informed the group that Olauren and Ausio Carowyn had also partied through the riots, and were tasteless ladder-climbers that the more established houses avoided. The Flowers, driven by compassion, agreed to talk to Deyanira. They took their leave of the Citadel and, along with Kroft, rejoined the waiting woman outside.
Deyanira, wiping away her tears, began her tale. "About a week ago, my brother Ruan came home with exciting news. He had been personally requested to perform at a private masquerade at Carowyn Manor, hosted by the well-known patrons of the arts. He bought a new outfit, practised a new arrangement on his ocarina, and left early the evening of the event. He never returned."
Her voice trembled as she continued, "I went to Carowyn Estate, but it looked abandoned. The door was locked, all the curtains were closed, and there was a sickly smell coming from inside. I asked the Korvosan Guard for help, but they're stretched too thin."
She looked at them with pleading eyes. "If you could help, I would give you some of my family heirlooms and a season's worth of free passes to the Marble Dome. Please, help me find my brother." She held out some trinkets to them, presumably the heirlooms, and a few in the party were able to silently assess that they weren’t worth much at all. “It’s all I have.”
Calli stepped forward, her voice gentle. "We’ll help you, Deyanira. You don’t need to give us anything. We’ll do it for free."
Deyanira’s face showed a mix of relief and gratitude. "Thank you, thank you so much."
Before they left to investigate, the party quite sensibly asked Kroft for an official writ to investigate. She handed the writ over but cautioned them to be careful, as dealing with nobility needs more tact than a common street gang. Nightingale promised he would “be sensible in dealing out justice.” Everybody had a good idea of what Nightingales version of justice was, so the subtext was ominous.
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The Flowers said farewell to Kroft and Deyanira and set off towards Carowyn Manor to make some initial inquiries. They weren’t in the state to risk a fight with a dragon after the goblin fight, but asking around for a missing musician seemed okay. They knew the dangers in Korvosa were many, but their resolve to bring peace and justice to the city was unwavering. The mystery of Ruan's disappearance now awaited them, another piece in the intricate puzzle of Korvosa's troubles.
The party arrived at Carowyn Manor, a large, stately, gabled house along Shoreline Way. Calli let the group know this wasn’t even their main home, but only exists as a place to entertain within the town. The manor stood grand and imposing, surrounded by a beautiful garden complete with a charming gazebo and a serene pond. She continued, “I heard that they keep salamanders that glow at night in that pond. I admit, I’d love to see that, they must be beautiful.”
As they approached, the garden's beauty momentarily distracted them from their grim purpose. Brightly coloured flowers adorned the grounds, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming roses. The vibrant foliage was meticulously maintained, a testament to the Carowyns' love for aesthetics. Garlands and bright red drapes festooned the outside of the manor, adding to the festive appearance, which seemed oddly juxtaposed with the troubling news they carried.
The manor's entrance was particularly striking. The doors were made of Bloodsworn mahogany, known for its deep, rich colour and durability. As they stepped up on to the porch and stood before the grand entrance, the smell of spring flowers became sickly. A smell of rotting bodies seeped from the building, and an immediate sense of foreboding overcame them all. This wasn’t going to be just a friendly chat, and there was no time to waste. The manor, though outwardly beautiful, clearly held dark secrets they were determined to uncover.
Byron stepped forward, examining the doors. "Locked," he noted. The barbarian then knocked on them but no response came. The big man then took out a crowbar and with the help of Trevor they forced open the bloodsworn doors, damaging the expensive wood. Byron raised his voice and called into the house, “Hello? We noticed your door was broken…”
The inside of the manor was dark. The once vibrant and welcoming interior now cast in eerie shadows. Dust motes floated in the air, visible in the beams of light filtering through the few open windows. The smell of decay lingered heavily in the air, making their mission even more urgent.
As the party stepped into the dimly lit manor, their eyes quickly adjusted to the low light. They noticed two doors: one to their left and another to their right. Up ahead, they glimpsed a grand hall with an elegant marble floor, its gleaming surface reflecting the faint light.
The grand hall drew their attention. In the centre, three couples were engaged in a macabre dance. They wore garish outfits of sequined velvet, revealing silks, and colourful feathers, making them appear like grotesque caricatures of a festive masquerade ball. Masks of various animals adorned their faces: foxes, rabbits, and so on, but the masks couldn't hide the unnatural stiffness in their movements.
The party paused, taking in the eerie scene. The couples moved in a slow, almost mechanical manner, their limbs jerking as if pulled by invisible strings. The air around them seemed heavy, filled with an oppressive silence that made every rustle of their elaborate costumes sound unnaturally loud.
Calli shivered, a sense of foreboding washing over her. "There's something very wrong here," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Taylan nodded. "They're like puppets on strings," he said, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of danger.
Nightingale furrowed his brow, his mind racing to understand what they were witnessing. "It's as if they're trapped in some kind of spell or enchantment," he speculated. "Or maybe they’re an illusion” He then picked up a small pebble from the gravel outside and threw it at one of them. It bounced off one of the masked dancers, but the dancer didn't even seem to register it had been struck with something. This made the scene even more unsettling.
Trevor, ever the warrior, readied his axe. "Let's check the doors first," he suggested. "We need to understand what we're dealing with before we move any closer."
They agreed to investigate the doors to their left and right, hoping to find clues about the strange scene before them.
Trevor moved to the right door, Trevor cautiously pushing it open. Inside he found a small sitting room with a fine looking couch, table and chair. The whole place oozed opulence and richness. He could spy another door at the end of the room.
He then opened the door to the left and could see a round table and four chairs in a small room clearly designed to play cards. However, laying on the floor, smeared in blood and signs of the plague, were two dead people. Trevor entered the room cautiously. He looked at the bodies, looking for puncture marks, worried more Vampires had infected the city but found none. However, as he peered closer, he could see the tell tale Blood Veil marks were fake. Someone had deliberately made them up to look as if they were killed by the Blood veil.
As Trevor searched the room, the rest of the party's attention was drawn back to the grand hall. The unnerving dance of the couples continued, their movements unchanging, their faces hidden behind their masks. They couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, that something sinister lurked just beyond their sight.
Nightingale took a cautious step forward, his keen eyes catching sight of another room off to the left. Through the open doorway, he could see two lifeless bodies sprawled on the floor, their blood pooling beneath them. Seated nearby, a couple in masks of a lion and lioness sat in high-backed chairs, their heads lolling unnaturally as a butler, equally masked as a peacock, served them nothing from an empty silver platter with stiff, jerky motions. It was a grotesque parody of hospitality.
The room was suddenly filled with a bone-chilling, piercing scream. The sound reverberated through the grand hall as a crossbow bolt shot across the room and lodged itself deep into Byron’s shoulder. He let out a grunt of pain, staggering backward from the force of the hit. The unnatural sound shook the nerves of Nightingale and Trevor. Fear gripped them, making their movements sluggish and their breaths shallow.
Nightingale summoned his magical shield and ventured closer to the dancers, trying to see past them into the dark where the bolt originated, and as he neared them all the dancers in the grand hall abruptly stopped their eerie dance. Their heads snapped towards him with an unnatural precision, their masked faces now fixed on the intruding party. An unsettling silence hung in the air for a brief moment before the dancers began to move, their rigid limbs propelling them toward Nightingale and the others with increasing speed.
Byron, gritting his teeth against the pain, quickly scanned the room and spotted the source of the attack: a female figure clad in a macabre jester costume, a small crossbow in her hand. She laughed maniacally, the sound grating on their ears, before darting away into the shadows, her form barely visible as she disappeared.
"Stay together!" Nightingale shouted, trying to rally the group despite the terror that threatened to overwhelm them. "We need to fend them off and find that jester!"
The masked dancers closed in, their movements mechanical yet relentless. Trevor emerged from the side room, attempting his orcish intimidation, but the strange dancers were unfazed. Calli launched into song, seeing there was no way to avoid the coming fight.
Byron gritted his teeth against the pain of the bolt embedded in his shoulder, trying desperately to heal himself. A masked dancer lunged at him but missed by a hair's breadth. Another swung a backhand at Nightingale, hitting with a force that sent him reeling. The blow was shockingly powerful.
Nightingale retaliated with his rapier, its blade appearing to pass harmlessly through the dancer until a surge of electricity fried it from the inside. As the dancer collapsed, its mask fell off, revealing a grotesque, decaying face. It was a zombie!
Trevor swung his axe with brutal efficiency to fell another of the zombie dancers, noticing the fake blood veil symptoms were painted on all the dancers. Both Calli and Nightingale, looking at the made-up faces, recalled there was a dark and perverted spell where you could sculpt the faces of the dead. They wondered what on earth was going on here.
Seeing Byron wince in pain, Calli rushed to heal some of Byron's wounds. Sensing her aid, he turned his attention to the nearest attacker, and ripped it apart with a brutal cry. Two more zombies lunged at Byron and at Nightingale, striking the first but fumbling the latter. Suddenly, another crossbow bolt flew across the room from the female jester, screaming as it cut through the air. It bounced off Nightingale's magical shield, sparing him further injury. This time the haunted sound managed to take hold on the whole party, in spite of Calli’s enchanted song. The jester's laugh echoed through the hall as she vanished into another room.
Trevor’s eyes locked on where the jester vanished, knowing her to be the greatest threat. He crouched down his massive frame and rushed through the violent dancers, evading their swipes, with all the skill expected of a bouncer in a crowded pub. Opening the door of the room she fled into, he found a small kitchen in which two zombies mechanically carving up a man dressed as a boar. The scene was nightmarish.
Calli spread her healing to Gale while Byron, using his claws, dispatched another zombie. The last two dancing zombies then rushed at men in a sudden burst of speed, their strikes missing by inches. Trevor, hearing movement in the kitchen that wasn’t from the grisly supper scene, threw a thunderstone inside, hoping to hurt and deafen anyone within. A mighty bang echoed, followed by a moment of silence.
Nightingale's lightning rapier felled another zombie. Determined to flush out the jester, and hearing another noise, Trevor hurled alchemist fire into the kitchen, hoping to set her ablaze. He slammed the door shut, praying the fire would force her out.
Byron plunged his claws into the final dancing zombie's face, leaving the entrance hall momentarily still as they all caught their breath.
The jester reappeared through another door, her crossbow bolt’s piercing scream sending shockwaves through the party. Trevor sprinted towards her, grappling her as he spotted a dining room filled with eight zombies. Four were mechanically eating food, while the others attempted to stand and approach the disturbance.
Calli continued healing Gale while Byron ran in to attack the jester, but his deadly claws glanced off her magical barrier instead. The lion and lioness zombies, drawn by the fighting, reached out for them. Nightingale quickly dispatched the lioness.
The jester broke free from the half-orc and danced away, mocking him and laughing that, "Rolf will love you, you’re so big and healthy!" The party immediately realised she was referring to Gaedran Lamm's son, the necromancer.
Nightingale cast a spell 'disrupt undead’, and a ray of blinding positive light erupted from his hands lancing into the lion-masked guest. The creature fell to the floor immediately. The peacock zombie moved in after them, stumbling over the pile of bodies that had accumulated at the hall’s entrance. With only the one nearby threat left, Calli trusted he could handle himself and ran singing through into the larger battle of the next room. She took a position between Bryon and Trevor, ready to heal whichever would need it first.
Fuelled by rage, Byron ripped one of the dining zombies in half with his claws.
At the same time, Trevor struck the jester with his axe, but she laughed it off, saying it “tickled.” She then stepped away from Trevor, drank a potion and disappeared.
The mass of undead diners spread out to surround the trio, while Gale closed the distance to cut down the butler zombie. Its peacock mask fluttered after in two pieces.
Trevor, thinking quickly, smashed his 'dust of appearance' to the ground, destroying the jester’s invisibility and revealing her exact location. She cursed him for spoiling her fun and darted into another room. Trevor gave chase, alerting everyone she was on the run. Nightingale ran through the kitchen door, hoping to head her off.
Byron caved in the skull of another zombie, splattering he and Calli with gore. She steeled her nerves and continued singing, determined to provide whatever help she could.
The jester disappeared into a small broom cupboard. Trevor hurled the door open only to find it seemingly empty. She had wedged herself onto the ceiling beams, from which she dropped a potion on his head; and noxious fumes and clouds spilled all around him making him feel nauseous. For a second he felt like his body would vomit, but his willpower fought it off. Cursing the half orc, the jester acrobatically leaped past, making for another retreat. Trevor was ready for it this time, and powerfully swung his axe, striking her down out of the air and rendering her unconscious. Nightingale quickly moved in, tying her up tight.
With the jester subdued, Trevor rejoined Byron and Calli, and together they dismantle the remaining zombies, one after another fed to the brutal barbarians’ blows.
With the immediate danger passed, the manor was eerily quiet once more. The party took a moment to recoup and looked around. This once elegant home had become a battlefield of broken furniture, splattered blood, and lifeless bodies. The choking stench of death and decay was made even worse by the newly exposed rotting guts. A grim realisation fell upon them, the chances of finding Deyanira’s missing brother alive seemed incredibly remote.
With the jester secure, they decided to continue clearing the building to make sure no one snuck up on them while they spoke to her. Each room they entered they discovered another one of Jolistina’s animated monstrosities. One such zombie was dressed as a blue-winged angel who strummed a large, standing harp with no strings. Upstairs there were others dressed in brightly coloured metallic costumes. In one of the bedrooms they discovered Olauren Carowyn, one of the owners of the house, and she was dressed as some kind of tragic Queen. Like all the other zombies they had met before, the party took them down, one by one.
Having found- and put to rest- Olauren Carowyn, Calli’s mind began considering this might be another location now up for grabs due to tragedy. She thinks of the homeless people of Ruby’s Rest, and of all Trevor’s orphans, and decides this vast space would be much better suited for them than a party house for the rich and callous. She suggests the idea to the group, and though Trevor isn’t sure he likes the idea of bringing the children somewhere such horrors took place, Byron brightens at the thought.
When they entered the Manors cellar though, they discovered a small wooden door, from behind which came the sound of whimpering. Byron and Calli exchanged concerned glances before approaching the door.
Byron leaned close, speaking gently, "We’re not here to hurt you. We’ve taken care of all the threats in the house. You’re safe now. Please, let us help you."
Calli added softly, "We promise, we’re here to help. Open the door and you’ll see we mean you no harm."
After a tense moment of silence, they heard the sound of a bolt being drawn back. The door creaked open, revealing a small workshop. Inside, painting supplies were scattered around, a well-worn divan sat against the wall, and a small shrine to Shelyn was tucked into a corner. The room was adorned with several scandalous portraits of Mrs. Carowyn. In the centre of the room stood a middle-aged nobleman, his face pale and drawn, brandishing a dull paint knife as a weapon. It was Ausio Carowyn.
Byron and Calli hid their disappointment, and Calli at least had the decency to feel bad for that reaction. Her brain switched tracks, perhaps she could convince him to donate the home. His reputation would be in the gutter after this disaster he brought on so many, and staying in the home himself after such traumatic events seemed impossible. Yes, that would be something to pursue… later.
He looked at them with wild, desperate eyes. "Who... who are you? You’re not undead?"
"No, we’re not undead. We’re here to help," Calli reassured him, stepping forward with her hands raised. "You don’t have to be afraid. The danger is over."
Ausio's grip on the knife loosened, and he slumped against the wall, the tension in his body visibly draining away. "I’ve been hiding here for... I don't know how long. The shuffling of undead feet, the high-pitched laughter of that madwoman... it’s driven me nearly out of my skull. I’ve survived on a cask of water and... rats," he said, his voice breaking.
Gale stepped in, his expression sympathetic. "We’re so sorry you had to endure that. Can you tell us what happened?"
Ausio nodded, his eyes distant as he recounted the events. "We were having a wonderful time, a grand party. Then one of the acrobats snapped! That horror of a Harlequin. She opened fire with crossbow bolts, and then everything descended into chaos and death. I fled down here, locked myself in."
When he finally met their eyes again, there was a glimmer of hope. "What about my wife? Is she...?"
The party exchanged sombre looks. Calli took a deep breath, her voice gentle yet firm. "Mr. Carowyn, we found your wife. She... she was reanimated as a zombie. We had to put her out of her misery. We’re so sorry."
Ausio's face crumpled, and he sank to his knees, overcome with grief. "Aurelia... oh, Aurelia..."
Trevor, his voice surprisingly soft for someone of his size and demeanour, offered him some solace. "She’s at peace now. And we’ll make sure this never happens again."
Nightingale added, "We need to get you out of here, Mr. Carowyn. There are still dangers in the city, but you’ll be safer with us."
As they helped the distraught nobleman to his feet, they knew their mission was far from over.
After guiding the noble out of the house in the path of least destruction, they returned to interrogate their hostage. They roused the unconscious jester, who blinked awake, her eyes darting around wildly before settling on the party. She smiled, a deranged grin spreading across her face. Trevor leaned in, his voice a low growl. "You've failed in your task to your master, Rolth the Necromancer."
The jester’s grin widened, and she dismissed Trevor with a wave of her hand. "Failed? Oh, no, no. You don't understand. I never fail. I did just as he asked! Didn’t you see my marvelous tableaus?"
Calli took over, her voice full of praise. "I saw that! You've done quite a job here. Look at all this... art. Tell us, what’s your name, how long have you been enjoying the Carowyns' hospitality?"
Her mad eyes gleamed with a twisted pride. "My name is Jolistina, and I've been here for days, living in luxury. The Carowyns had such exquisite taste. It was delightful. I killed most of their guests, but I couldn't resist their grace. So I made them dance, eternally."
Her laughter echoed through the room, switching from indifferent to maniacal. Calli continued to coax her, steering the conversation. "This is truly impressive. But why did you do it? What did Rolth want?"
Jolistina's expression shifted, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. "Rolth ordered the murders. No idea why. Something his new employer wanted, whomever THAT is." The jester shrugged. Clearly nothing mattered but her beloved Rolth. “He told me to wait here when I was done, so here I am! It’s been a few days now, though, I was started to get bored. I’m so glad you came to play.”
Calli pressed on, her tone careful, “I heard there was an ocarina player meant to be at the party. A man named Ruan. We haven’t found one, do you know what became of him?”
Jolistina cackled, her head tilting to the side. "Oh, him? Rolth was pleased with that one. He told me to capture any young, healthy Varisians I found. Your dear Ruan was among them. Rolth took him away, to wherever he goes with those plague doctors."
Nightingale's eyes narrowed. The party exchanged grim looks. The situation was more dire than they had imagined. Nightingale's suspicions about the plague doctors' involvement were confirmed, and the fate of Ruan was uncertain. They needed to find Rolth and his employer to unravel the full extent of this conspiracy.
Calli turned to the others, determination in her eyes. "We have to find Ruan and stop this madness. The plague doctors are key. We need to track them down."
Trevor nodded, his grip tightening on his axe. "And deal with Rolth once and for all."
Byron, still nursing his wounds, added, "We'll need to be careful. They’re playing a dangerous game, and we’re walking into the heart of it."
Nightingale agreed. "We need a plan. First, let’s rid ourselves of this dark jester”
It was clear that Nightingale wanted to run her through. Calli could see Jolistina was a victim of Rolf as much as anyone else, but after causing so much unrepentant death and misery she wasn’t inclined to stop him. Both Trevor and Byron disagreed, arguing that Jolistina needed to be handed over to the authorities. She might be insane, but her knowledge is valuable. She was the first tangible proof they had to the connection of the necromancer and the plague doctors. Nightingale protested deeply. This was not justice, as if the Queen’s people really were involved and they were able to take Trinia from the Citadel they’d be able to reach the jester. But both Trevor and Byron were adamant, justice would be served the right way, not his kind. Nightingale begrudgingly conceded and said no more. They would take the jester to Cressida Kroft.
As they bound Jolistina tighter, her laughter echoed in the halls before being stifled with a makeshift gag. The Flowers knew they were on the edge of uncovering something much larger and far more sinister. They had to stop Rolth and his plague doctors, uncover the true extent of the conspiracy, and save Ruan from whatever fate the necromancer had in store for him. Relieved to finally have the next piece of the puzzle and be one step closer to curing the dreaded Bloodveil, they joined Ausio outside. With Jolistina bound and in tow, they set off towards the Citadel, ready to face the next challenge together.
