Monday 17 December 2012

Kirsten Acquisces to the Request.



Kirsten listened intently and shrugged. She had no desire to search that slaughterhouse again. She had seen less gore in the shambles near her home. Still.....

"I think you're right. I must have missed something. I need an open flame. Watch for drafts as I pass the flame along the the walls of the room. It's the only explanation. Unless, of course, our friend here is a liar."

The upper hand: I'll act as the rear guard....

Werner finished stuffing his road worn pack with highly valuable, and more importantly, highly delicious loot. His long suffering road companion Harbull looked up from the latest of the disappointing crates, (alas merely finely embroidered wall hangings a noble would be happy to have grace his bed chambers and nary a bite to eat) and piped up: "Hey, where'd everyone get off to? Should we maybe go have a look... maybe they found the whatsit..."

 Werner nodded. Suddenly the distraction of brady passed, here they were in a dangerous sewer alone in the room that had been barricaded to prevent something from getting the gang. A something that very much frightened them. Strange noises echoed up from the barricaded corridor, were they unnatural things or not? Only someone insane enough to stay down here for a long time would be able to differentiate.

Werner quickly followed Harbull into the adjoining chamber and the companionship and safety of their comrades. Noting the discussion about missing anything in the room he shuddered a bit, he couldn't blame Kirsten if she did a desulatory search, that room made his skin crawl.

"I...ugh.....I can help guard our prisoner if any of you wish to search the room. Perhaps there are some healthy incense or what not we could burn while you are in there, it's a bit........vile."

Tuesday 11 December 2012

The upper hand?

The adventures had paused to take stock and now they began to feel they were taking charge of the situation, even if they hadn't solved the mystery before them.

More Questions in the Dark

Wanda looked at Johann and shrugged.

"You're right - perhaps it is very subtle or powerful magic, but I'll believe that when I see it. As for him," she casually waved at their prisoner, "I don't think he wants to talk anymore. I still think he'll be useful, though, so I'd recommend tying him to the bed whilst we investigate the office.

"Perhaps some time spent contemplating whatever it was that pulled his master's head from his body will help loosen the tongue and he can tell us where to go next."

Wanda turned as Harbul entered the room. She was relieved to see that he was alright. She hated to admit it, but having spent a few hours in the dark with these strangers had really put some perspective on her life - and she was starting to enjoy it.

You'll be an adventuress after all, she smiled to herself.

Monday 10 December 2012

More questions in the dark: How many ways into a sealed room?

Johann roughly shifted his grip on the prisoner and caught Wanda's eye,

"So let me get this straight. This boss of his retired to that chamber with the gem and closed the door. No-one came in or out until after his screams were heard. There's either subtler magic affot than you can detect or there's another way in."

He paused and glared down at the Tilean,

"Or this pig is the culprit and knows more than he is telling..."

Johann turned his head and beckoned Kirsten over,

"Is there a chance you missed some kind of secret exit in there? What lies behind the tapestry?"

Hey!

Harbull searched through a second crate but still no victuals... not a scrap. What were they doing with all these Tilean throw rugs?
He paused for a moment of energetic nose-picking and looked around.
No one but Werner in sight, happy with his brandy.
"Hey, where'd everyone get off to? Should we maybe go have a look... maybe they found the whatsit..."

Harbull flicked away the results of his digging and started up after the others.

Sunday 25 November 2012

More questions in the dark.



The thug was clearly becoming more uncomfortable, sweat beaded on his forehead in the close confines of the chamber. “I didn’t see it long, it was like an egg but lots of colours, not anything I’d seen before. Now let me go.”

Meanwhile passionless elven eyes surveyed the headless corpse.  Malmir had seen enough of fights, indeed a body lay but a few passages back in similar circumstances, he knew this was not the result of combat. The blood had drained enough to see that head had not been hacked off, the flesh had been parted with a few sharp swift cut and the spine parted between the bones.  Skill and strong sharp equipment applied after death were all that the elf could consider to account for this.