Chapter the Third, Silent Woman Keep

[valadaar]

"Just keep in mind that our thoughts may not be our own here, even if you choose not to 'speak' them. " said Iskander.  He noticed Nish's glance, especially since the thought had crossed his mind as well. But, it did not look valuable enough to bother with, and Iskander was no kelptomaniac.  Antagonizing the sisters was not something he was willing to do at the moment.

Now, if others wished to, he had no argument with that.

"Too many would likely defeat your purpose, Nish, but I will keep a lookout from this house.  My presence here might distract them from you. "

Iskander was too tense to sleep,  and not ready to brave the countless bedbugs that likely infested the straw.  When the time came, it would be the floor and his blanket.  Instead he went over to the window and looked outside at the keep.

[Dozus]

Zuan made a formal bow to the Abbess. "Thank you, Very Reverend Abbess," he thought. The merchant priest knew little of this kind of magic, certainly not of exorcism. It didn't frighten him, but it did make him uncomfortable.

"Have you any preparations to make, gentlemen?" he thought - and dared not think much else, lest the Sisters "hear" more than he wished.

[Murometz]

They were led once more into the catacombs of the abbey. It was strange; the longer the intense silence lingered, the more deafening it became in their minds. An almost uncontrollable urge to scream out loud persisted among them. One could go mad like this, Inan thought, as he followed the Midnight Guardian and the trade-priest…

They arrived.

It was a solid stone and metal-grating door, like the others scattered about the keep. Sister Gilfresa paused and turned to Saano.

“Sister Voichita is inside. If you feel the tide is turning against you, flee the room, and lock this door. There are magicks cast upon it, as well as her chains, to keep the “presence” from escaping Sister Voichita’s body and desecrating the entire Keep. May St. Hurdegilda’s onyx heart, steel yours in turn.”

With that, Sister Gilfresa opened the door, and turned to go.

Inside was a plain rectangular room of stone. In the middle of the room, sat a woman—young girl really--in a lotus position. Her head was cast down toward her chest, as if she was sleeping. Her straw-hair was matted and she reeked of bodily fluids. Eight thick chains, two on each wrist, and two on each ankle, extended from her in the center of the room, to the four walls around her.

[Murometz]

Moraten tensed his ears to see if he could hear any sounds, then almost laughed at himself when he remembered. No, he would not hear anything of course. Before returning to that gooey hell, he would need to recuperate, regroup, and then somehow...

Making his way to the door of the room, Moraten slowly opened it and looked about. A hallway, yes he remembered this, though for some odd reason, he could not recall the way Tullis and him had originally come. Which floor? Which window? Which stairs? This whole place was madness.

Left or right, it seemed, were his only choices, if he wanted to leave this room. Oh yes, and it was deathly quiet both ways, naturally.

Suddenly, he spotted something, and moved back against the door to not be seen himself. He caught a glimpse of one of the Keep's Sisters, all in white, leading three men, all quite different in appearence, up a staircase, at the far end of the corridor.

[EchoMirage]

As the sun came to rest, so rose Anquetiti, stretching, flexing, catching the last rays on her face.
"Time to prowl, Nish" she purred, and bound her hair into a pony tail, rubbed soot on her face to hide its sheen, and headed out.

I guess Nish is looking for low windows, I am looking for hidden entrances and clues. Roll my 'getting into places where you're not supposed to be' skill, please.

[Murometz]

Evening. The mountains hid their beloved Sun early here in Canagadi.

Nisher glanced up at the imposing Keep, his eyes darting to and fro, examining windows and climbing angles. The shadows were playful, at once teasing and frustrating him. The higher the better, he finally surmised, and chose an inviting second-floor window, over-looking the cloister.

Nisher was ready to roll, and took out his spellwriting tome.

Anquetiti was searching as well. Searching for anything out of the ordinary or unusual, anything that may resemble a secret door or entrance, or anything else for that matter...

(ooc: Sorry, i even tried twice!    Murometz rolls 1d20 and gets 7.(16:08:40) ChatBot: Murometz rolls 1d20 and gets 6)

At this point Iskander and Tagu quietly came up behind the dynamic duo. Both had frowns on their faces, easily seen in the slippery moonlight.

"Why?" mouthed the ever-quiet Tagu.

Nisher had no answer for the body-guard, nor did he even acknowledge Tagu. Instead, he cast his spell, and began to climb.

[Shadoweagle]

The spellwriter chose the appropriate page in his tome and ran a hand over it. The ink slipped away from the page as the magical energy was infused with him. With a nervous look around, Nisher Stryne flung the rope in his other hand straight upwards. When it reached the peak of it's flight, one end of the rope remained suspended in the air, while the other end unravelled down - causing Nish to jump back in surprise as the tip whipped him in the face!
"Mother Fu..."
The scrawny man glared back at Tagu, Iskander and Anquetiti, daring them to comment.

Nish shimmied up the rope in a practiced manner - he had done this many times before. With a glance down to the others, he motioned up with his hand, "This rope won't last forever! Now or never, you lot!" The spellwriter grunted as he lifted himself up to the peak of his rope and studied the window. Three vertical bars adorned the entrance, however they were not so close that the skinny spellwriter could slip right between them - into the window. Before he so brazenly leaps through, however, Nish takes a good look into the room.
 (Perception roll, success!)
A plain room. It was dim within, but Nish could spot something which worried him; there were two single beds in the room, and two forms slumbered in them; sleeping sisters! Nisher hesitated momentarily then looked down at his companions once again. "Two asleep," he whispered softly, before raising his index finger to his lips. Nish was not going to back out now, though - he slipped his body through the bars and landed softly onto the ground.

[Ria Hawk]

Sense suggested that he ought to avoid the group. The sisters probably wouldn't take kindly to his presence, and he had no idea who their visitors were. Could be bounty hunters for all he knew, and bounty hunters weren't exactly on the top of his 'favorite people ever' list.

On the other hand, he'd gotten completely turned around in here. He had no idea which way the door was, or which window would be safe to exit. The men would ultimately have to leave, and presumably they'd be shown the way out. He could just follow them when that happened...

He'd wait for now, out of sight, and then trail them outside. Then he could resupply and recover his strength, and come back with a better plan.

[Murometz]

'Ten was about to sneak back into the room with the golden pool, seemed a good place to hide and wait, when he spotted another. A figure dressed in drabby clothing, and obviously up to no good by the looks of it, in the shadows of the walled-torches. The slim man, some forty feet away down the corridor, seemed to consider something, then duck back into whichever room he had just emerged from.

-----

Nish landed, a jolt of excitement shooting through him. The jolt subsided quickly as he looked around. There was nothing to focus on, as his eyes adjusted to the dark. Two beds, two sleeping Sisters--how titillating, he sniggered-- two chairs, a table stained with tallow, some scrolls, and an icon of St. Hurdegilda--obnoxious looking woman, Nish thought-- carved into one of the walls in bas-relief. Oh there's something, he spied. Chamber-pots beside the beds, except strangely the pots reeked strongly of vinegar.

Nish sighed and looked about once more. Nothing. Time to expand his exploration. Tip-toeing to the door, he opens it and peaks about, A hallway stretched both right and left. A gargoyle torch-sconce carved into the wall, seemed to leer at Nish.

Silence, he realized then. The entire keep was drowned in utter silence. Nish turned and saw Anquetiti, lithe as a dancer pirouette across the floor toward him from the window. He could not tell if Iskander and Tagu followed.

Nisher opened his mouth to whisper something to Anquetiti but no sound came. One of the Sisters stirred, but remained sleeping.

Anquetiti focused and "thought" at Nisher. No good. Nisher's mind did not register. The raid was starting off less than ideally.


(ooc: INT checks to communicate amongst yourselves with telepathy. Poor, poor, Nish. he can't catch a break. Anquetiti makes it (22:36:54) ChatBot: Murometz rolls 2d20 and gets 1,19)

[Dozus]

Zuan looked curiously at the woman before them. He thought she was perhaps a pretty woman, but it was impossible to tell beneath the chains and stench.

He began to clear his throat to speak before hearing nothing and remembering the keep's strange enchantment. "Sister Voichita," he began, hoping the woman's affliction didn't affect her "hearing". "We are here on behalf of your dear brother Joachim. He has heard of your... condition and has sent Master Saano to draw the demon from you. Saano is a Midnight Guardian, the best exorcist money can buy. If you will kindly permit him..."

Coursi nodded at Saano to begin his work. Meanwhile, the merchant priest examined the room with an appraiser's eye, trying to get a sense of the condition they were in.

Perception check: Dozus rolls 1d20 and gets 19.

[valadaar]

From the ground, the bars seemed too closely placed for Iskander. Doubly so for Tagu.  This venture was ill concieved in the first place, and the excuses made themselves up easily.   Any other keep, he may have beat Nish inside, but this place disturbed him, deeply.

[Ria Hawk]

Well. This place was just full of surprises, wasn't it? Maybe Tallus wasn't the only one who'd heard stories of the great treasure said to be here. 'Ten still didn't know if there even was such a thing, or if it was just a play-pretend to draw men to their deaths.

He'd be willing to believe either at the moment.

He didn't think he'd been spotted, but it might be a good idea to hide in the shadows the next time someone was about.

[Fade Into Shadows the next time someone comes into the hall.]

[EchoMirage]

Anquetiti sneaked after Nish, far more concerned with her surroundings and far less with disdain.
Grinning, she stole one of the neatly folded outfits and stuck it in her pack; musing, she examined the basrelief of St. Hurdegilda, then caught up with her sneaky fellow.

Unable to speak to him in any meaningful way - how different from the normal state? - she pointed at some hanging chains and mimed having her wrists bound, then ended with a question mark.

[Scrasamax]

Inan was amused by the spells of silence that covered the building, and the sister's telepathic communication. There were hermits in the desert who had taken vows of silence, and he had spent three months with one of them. There had been no mind to mind communication, but rather the hermit had given Inan his amulet he now wore and had taught him how to become a djinn fighter. They had stared eye to eye, and had grappled with each other and fought in matches that were as much training as outright hostility. Inan had cursed and swore at first but had slowly learned how to control his mind, his fleeting thoughts and fluttering impulses.

When he was ready, Inan intended to travel back to the broken plinth of rocks a day past the Three Palms Oasis where the hermit lived. He was going to beat the old djinn fighter in a wrestling match and then he intended to learn the Boulder Shattered Fist technique from him.

But more to the present, the sun baked holy man was making mental notes of his surroundings, of the pillars that held the building and the walls that carried weight and the ones that were there for looks. Before he had become a djinn fighter, Inan had once been a stone cutter and builder.

[Murometz]

They spotted the monstrosities almost simultaneously...

Zuan was casting his "eye of appraisal" about the room, and Inan was studying the masonry. Saano was lost in thought (double-thought?) with his sister and examining his possessions. He laid out a cloth on the floor, unrolling it. Vials of some kind of silvery liquid could be seen inside. Saano was focused. He had to prepare first, and for the moment ignored the sleeping girl.

As Zuan looked about he noticed the white-powdery substance on the chains, he noticed that Sister Voichita was apparently sitting over a hole of some sort, in the stone floor, her legs wide-enough apart to keep her from falling through. He noticed a single window, letting in slivers of moonlight...

Then he looked up, and when he did, Inan was already staring up as well....

Amidst the high rafters, nearly unseen in the shadows of the cathedral ceiling, hovered two monstrosities from nightmare. Zuan nearly wretched involuntarily. He had only heard of these things in fanciful books...

Inan was stoic, but overtly alert.

Two grotesque, disembodied female heads, their bloody-red entrails and organs hanging freely from their necks, their intestines appearing as tails, floated high above in the near-darkness, leering down at the three exorcists. It was as if some being of great strength and force had literally ripped the heads, together with spine and guts, from the torsos of two women (Sisters?), and be-magicked them into some kind of horrific new life-form.

The two heads and entrails began to descend...mouths agape, their bloodshot eyes focused on their prey.

Sister Voichita sat motionless in the middle of the room, head down.


(ooc: ChatBot: Murometz rolls 2d20 and gets 18,16. Murometz rolls 1d20 and gets 18. You all save against fright! So, you don't run out of the room in utter fear. Unless you want to.)

[Scrasamax]

Inan raised his arms, beckoning for the creatures to come towards him, draw the enemy close so that they might dance better with the devil. He felt the amulet against his chest go cold as he let the djinn rise to the surface. He didn't rush the transformation, he let it rise like a bread. His muscles rippled and thickened, and his skin took on a green hue. He started to grow in stature as the spirit of the djinn billowed out through his mortal flesh and blood. He heart beat, the rope around his waist slipped loose as he rapidly outgrew it. His hair turned black and billowed down his back in a mane that would leave even the most vain woman sick with envy.

He was the djinn, at least for a short time. (STR - 18, DEX - 11, CON - 21) The tattoos glowed across his skin, electric blue against stony tough green flesh. When they came into reach, Inan leaped into the air, his dagger like teethed bared as he snarled with a reptilian hiss. His claws gleamed as he reached for the heads.

Inan attacks when he can, the Djinn is impatient and demands blood. Grapple, rip, tear, bite, etc.

[Dozus]

"Bashad's blessed beard!" Coursi exclaimed mentally, biting back bile at the sight of the accursed monsters.

The shock of seeing the dismembered corpses flying down softened the surprise of Inan's sudden transformation from a desert vagrant to a viridian djinn. The merchant simply didn't have the forethought to be alarmed at them both.

Instead, he pulled a cobre from his purse and dropped it silently into his blessed coffer. He cast his hands out and prayed, "Divine Broker, banish this evil from Your merchant's presence and guard me from their ill fortune!"

Cast Protection from Evil

[Murometz]

(ooc: Much rolling was done in chat with witnesses)

The scene turned immediately to chaos.

"...and guard me from their ill fortune!"

He intoned, while backing up toward the door intuitively. The spell was cast and now Zuan looked on wide-eyed.

Saano was snapped from his meditation instantly, to his credit, and in one swift motion, put down his "tools" and hefted his bow, firing two rapid missiles at one of the grotesque horrors descending upon them. One hit, spearing a bloody, graying lung, and getting stuck in the organ, the other sailing just wide of the creature's hideous, saliva-drooling face. Distracted and pained by the arrow, the penanggalan missed, as it attempted to devour Saano's face with a single bite, at the culmination of its dive.

Inan, who shot up into the air, suddenly an unrecognizable monstrosity carved of verdigris, met the entrails-dragging head, head-on (sorry). The monster gaped in surprise itself, Zuan noticed from below, as it saw the mighty djinn rear up. Shrieking silently, the creature dove at Inan's throat, as he also roared silently, seeking to thrash it.

The detached head-n-guts lunged and missed Inan as it tried to wrap itself around his throat with her ropy entrails, but Inan did not miss in turn, striking the creature with his great clawed hand, then mangling it again with his other. The force of impact sent the penanggalan flying, against its will, into the far wall. It dead-cat bounced, then its eyes grew an even bloodier shade of red, and it advanced once more at Inan.

Broker be merciful, thought Zuan.

(ooc: that's a round and a half. Your turn again.)

[Murometz]

And fade into shadows he did...as 'Ten saw two figures emerge from a chamber down the corridor once more. This time the drably-clothed man, and what had to be the figure of a woman, lithe and graceful, with him.

-----

The room held nothing of interest, besides the two shadowy forms of the Sisters, covered beneath blankets in their beds, and the strong stench of vinegar. Nisher and Anquetiti stepped out into the hall. Nisher was beside himself. the inability to communicate or for that matter, hear any bloody thing, was beginning to drive him mad. Anquetiti smiled, her facial features blackened, and awaited Nisher's responce. They stood in the hallway right outside the door of the room. Shadows, cast from the meager light of the gargoyle-headed wall-torches, danced about the lengthy corridor.

It was quiet.

[Shadoweagle]

Nish watched Anquetiti dumbly as she performed her motions. It took a moment for him to register what she was trying to communicate. Ah, she wants to tie the sleeping women up, perhaps! Nisher grinned at Anquetiti lecherously - it was just as well he could not communicate, but his eyes gave away his thoughts nonetheless!
He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head at the woman. While binding the silent sisters would be a good - and entertaining - move in his thoughts, he worried that if they woke them in the binding they may be able to use their thought-speak to call for aid! Instead, he motioned Anquetiti on with a hand. It was time to explore back through the door he peeked through earlier, but not before taking a closer look at those chamber pots! Nish snuck over to one of the pots and took a glance in, query on his face as to the peculiar smell.

Finally, the Spellwriter flipped open his book and turned to a tried-and-true page. With a wave 'goodbye' to Anquetiti, he pressed his palm on the page, absorbing the ink and spell within, his form shimmering away.

Taking a look in the chamber pot then using his sight unseen spell before creeping out into the next room/hall.

[Ria Hawk]

'Ten watched the pair curiously from his spot in the shadows. This just kept getting odder. He'd feel more comfortable if he could hear anything; he was starting to wonder if he hadn't gone deaf in that strange realm he'd been in. He could see in the dark, better than most, but sight wasn't the only way to get a warning of something approaching. He couldn't see into the room the group had gone into, not from his vantage point.

[Murometz]

Nisher neared a bed, and glanced into one of the chamber pots, sniffing. It was too dark to make out, but whatever was inside did not smell of urine. Instead, it looked like a clear liquid, and smelled exactly like vinegar did. In fact, the chamber pots were filled with vinegar, or at least a passable imposter.

Anquetiti glanced down the hall suddenly, sensing...something? No nothing. Just shadows. She ducked back in the room to check on Nisher's doings, only to see him sniffing at a chamberpot, then waving to her, and suddenly vanishing with a grin on his face.

---

'Ten watched. These people were acting stranger by the minute. In, out, some sort of silent communication, then back in room. d**nation!

Ah, they emerge again. Or rather, the woman emerged. She could not see the other. Now what, Moraten thought? Perhaps he could convince them to help him find Tullis body? Perhaps not. They were thieves, of this there was little doubt. All he would have to do is mention the "treasures" of the Keep. Or did they know already? Did they know where it was? Decisions, thought Moraten, and idly fingered his stolen key-ring. What to do next?

[Dozus]

From the belt of his kaftan, Zuan drew his own hand crossbow and loaded it. Taking aim at the penanggalan that had attacked Saano, Zuan loosed the bolt as it flew silently at the monstrous form.

Attack roll: Dozus rolls 1d20 and gets 8.

[Scrasamax]

The Djinn-Inan pulsed with energy, the fury of the long repressed djinn was exultant to be spattered with gore, and the next best thing to f***ing a woman was ripping one apart. It lunged again at the penanggalan seeking to grapple with it again, claws outstretched.

Inan wants to grapple with the penanggalan and then attempt a feat of strength and rip it apart, like a wishbone

[Chaosmark]

Saano

Son-of-a--! Saano had no more time to fire arrows, not with that monstrosity up close and personal. He hated fighting close-quarters like this. But preparation is key when fighting things that love to rend and tear, and a Guardian is nothing if not prepared. Letting his bow fall to the ground, he grabbed the heretofore-ignored pair of fighting sticks kept on his legs and dropped into a classic fighting stance. One stick forward for attack, one stick held close for defense.

It's been a while since you've used those, the melodious voice noted in his head, Think you'll be able to avoid hurting yourself?

A grin broke through the grim determination on his face. What's a little pain between friends? And hey, with a pretty face like that, she must be overflowing with suitors. Gotta make a good impression, after all.

With a soundless cry of violence, Saano jumped forward to strike at the penanggalan that had gotten the jump on him.


OOC: Switch to melee fighting sticks and attack the penanggalan.