The Castle - B1

Frac refrains from feeding. He will be disgusted by someone who does.Meanwhile, Frac searches the room for an improvised weapon for himself and... Garlic. He liked it, especially with rice. Maybe, after the Curse, he'll feel something new about that.

Varos seeing the blood feels a craving for it. This feeling disgusts him and he will refrain from the vulgar act of feeding on blood. He will search the body for anything that is not a weapon. Varos looks at the others."I will take this other dagger for throwing if no one minds. Clarence would you like this sword?"

Gregory turns away from the corpse! Not out of queasiness, or a weak stomach. The man had wrought enough destruction in his time that a ruined body was a trifling thing. No, it was that gnawing hunger at the back of the wizard’s mind that caused him to turn away!

This… This would be the test of the priest’s resolve, he thought. Did the man hunger for both flesh and blood?

Careful to keep away from the iron rich scent of blood, the wizard watches on as the others are tested by the scene also!

Once Tibor sees the body, he has a hard time taking his eyes off it. The way the light glints off the deep red pool around him makes it look so inviting - like the wine the Maesters shared between them on special occasions. The kind he served them but was not allowed to quaff himself.

He had suspected before and now he knows that the curse is already upon him, pushing him to give in and take this ebbing lifeforce into his own. It is just wasting away after all. And why should he fight the curse? This could be the chance for him to learn and experience something that few others had. This could help him be more than the third-rate scholar he was now.

He continues to stare fixedly at the bloodied man, his jaw clenched tight during this inner struggle.

Anton was glad to leave the submerged torture chamber, but his relief was short-lived. Trudging upstairs with his curse-companions, burdened by soaking-wet clothes, the priest entered the larder with an initial sense of satisfaction.

Then, the iron-tinged air, the smell of the fresh cadaver aroused conflicting, disgusting emotions in the young man. He was aware of his craving, the pain in his shoulder flaring up intensely, as if his body were calling his attention to the restorative properties of eating flesh and consuming blood. Even before he saw the corpse, he knew what it was and why he must resist his urge.

The powerful impulse was indeed resisted, but it recalled the young man’s obscure past, the shocking rituals he had witnessed, many of which involved such unholy feasting as well as sacrifices of blood and of flesh. Anton wanted to vomit, and wanted to feed. He felt dizzy and disturbed, but he kept his position and focused on calming the inner convulsions of his heart and gut. He muttered prayers under his breath, as he had learned to do when — waking from horrid recollection-dreams in his cell in the Temple of Madeera — his church elders had instilled in him the meditative practices that slowly settled the soul.

"The covenant is unbreakable, and my part in it is written," he whispered barely audibly to the others. "I shall not deviate, I shall not welcome the chaos into the world," he ended his recitation, speaking in a slightly louder tone.

Only then did he speak to the others. "Let us see if there is anything useful here, and move on. We will eat when we are away from this accursed place!"

Frac takes the crowbar. He's not a fighter, but after the previous encounter going unarmed wouldn't be smart.

"Unfortunately I don't know how to use other weapons, so I would like to keep it, as you already have one, ok?"

Frac gets the dagger and leave the other weapons for someone else.

"I’ll take the crowbar. It seems sturdier than this rod," the priest suggested, as no one else seemed interested in the improvised weapon.

"Sounds good Frac. We should all be armed." Varos will continue to search the dead mans body for anything useful. Who knows maybe he has a key or some such. Maybe he was a servant trapped here.

Can we tell where they are coming from? Is there maybe a hidden door somewhere?

After climbing up, Clarence takes in the scene. Responding to Varos, Clarence says "Yes, thank you. I've always preferred swords to staves." Clarence sets down the candelabra, takes the sword, and performs a few cursory passes. "Much better, thank you."

Clarence steps forward into the room, when he sees the corpse. Suddenly, his mind is filled with visions of his favorite food. Steak. Juicy Steak. Normally, he prefers medium rare, but the taste of rare steak fills his mouth. He feels the the texture of the flesh as his teeth chomp into it. The muscle fibers splitting between his tongue. The rich flavor and smooth texture of lightly grilled fat, as it melts in his mouth. Above all, he tastes the intense flavor—with that slight tang of iron—of the blood, the juicy, juicy blood. His mouth waters; he feels his incisors poke not-so-lightly into his lower lip. He knows that what is before him will taste even better than the rarest, rawest steak he had ever eaten.

He walks forward, as if in a daze, raising his hands to grab at the succulent neck, when his newly acquired sword—which he had completely forgotten he was holding—comes into his line of sight and blocks the corpse. That moment was what Clarence needed to get a hold of himself. He shudders, realizing just how close he came to slaking his hunger with the unholy curse of vampirism.

Taking a step back, he is relieved to have escaped the compulsion, only to gaze in abject horror at the hundreds of spiders that seem to have veritably erupted from every corner. AARRGGHH, I HATE spiders! Clarence commences to stomp uncontrollably, trying to crush the small horrors as quickly as they appear.

When Clarence steps toward the dead body, Tibor is able to snap out of his trance before the urge to feed overtakes him. He closes his eyes and rubs his forehead. He scans the room for a bottle or cask of wine. Anything else to slake this thirst. But he notices the growing tide of baby spiders first and begins backing uneasily away from the dark specks, kicking at them with his worn boots.

"Perhaps we would be wise to move to another room. I am not eager to find out if these spiders are poisonous," Tibor says, his eyes darting from the arch leading to the apparent feast and the arch with the green glow.

"Okay, let's go before the candle runs out. Which way?"

"Madeera guide us!" Gregory says solemnly, as each is tested and found to have the strength to resist for now!

While he did feel the desire to itch, Gregory had no great fear of the spider. They weaved webs as intricate as the laws etched into the skin of Madeera! With luck, they would feed on worse things that crawl within these halls.

With hope of escape in his mind, Gregory packs a few provisions into his pockets for their escape into the wild, and gets ready to move on.

"I doubt we want to join the merriment being had just beyond that doorway…" he says with a frown, and yet he remembers how he had cautioned the others earlier. They should go the way it is least expected of or inviting to them…

Varos thinks to himself party or green glow? He would always go party himself. "What if the sound of the party is just an illusion also?" Varos has no fear of spiders. "I could creep ahead and check it out."

"We can spare the candles and matches for now," Anton stated, waving his magically infused iron rod to show that it was shedding far more intense light than the candle. "This should last for an hour."

Regarding the way forward, the young man was circumspect. He listened to the exchange, silently approving Gregory’s religious references, while nodding ever so gently. The spiders irked him more than he wanted to admit, but — once again — he attempted to hide his fears before these strangers.

When Varos suggested moving ahead on his own, Anton expressed doubts. "Should you look ahead, we should be near to you, in case something you can’t handle takes an interest in you."

I do have some shills in this area. The shadows can be my friend.

"I bet it is an illusion. We should check it out. "

"Then be ready." Gregory warns resolutely, stepping towards the sound of merriment! His palms felt hot, as he recalled his burning spell with every step forward that he took!

Thinking back to the apparition in the cells, Clarence says I do not trust this to be what it seems. Prepare your weapons. Pausing once more, Clarence continues If we can, we should nab the golden candelabra. It may be of help with the path of the Raven.

Varos looks at the others "I wonder what is being cooked? Hopefully not people. I agree with Clarence about not trusting this."

Anton stood next to the entrance, not quite sure if he could believe his eyes. Were there actually normal, living soldiers in this forsaken castle? He did not approach the table, or react in any way, looking at his companions to see what they might be willing to do.

Tibor confers with the others, trying to be discreet but also realizing the guards aren't paying a lot of attention.

"They look happy for now but they probably wont willingly part with candelabra. Perhaps we can distract them? They appear deep into their cups and maybe I can push them over the edge with a drinking challenge? Or maybe some stories." He pauses. "Unless there IS something deceptive going on..."

"Go ahead Tibor, I'll go talk with them as well." - Frac whispers.

He joins the guards.

"Hi! Prisoners?! Of course not! We are honored guests... At least until midnight. And you, what's going on? Have you heard of any prisoners? Are they being tortured?"

Tibor nods to Frac and follows him to the table, smiling at the guards.

"I didn't know we'd be late to the party!" He laughs heartily and grabs a cup of whatever the guards are drinking. "What's on tap tonight, eh?" He winks at the nearest guard and takes a quick glance in the cup.

Clarence walks into the room, flexing his magnificent pectorals as he jauntily swings his arms—one of which still holds the short sword. Any steak on the menu—preferably rare? he asks to the assemblage.

"What is the drink of the night fellas?" hoping they aren't drinking blood.

With such a beautiful centerpiece, fellows, why only one candle? Shouldn't a feast like this demand brighter light?, asks Clarence.

Gregory hangs back while the others rush to take both seat and cup. Something itches at the back of his mind.

Wordlessly, he casts a spell. Hoping to avoid the suspicion of the guards, he turns away slightly as he makes the gestures also!

Clarence blinks as the light of the candle seems to……expand? Strange shadows flickered at the corners of his eyes. The celebrating guards went in and out of focus. Were those crows feet at the corners of there eyes? Liver spots? Something was awry. He had thought they were young journeymen, but then they seemed like grizzled veterans. And the candle. Clarence felt for the two candles in his pouch. Candles aren't so bright in general, are they? Warily, he stepped closer to the edge of the table, feeling rather disconcerted as to what was real and if anyone—or anything—was playing tricks with his mind. Clarence grounded himself by flexing his mighty biceps. These are most definitely real, Clarence thought gratefully.

Anton touched his own face awkwardly, and then looked at his companions: were they too starting to age preternaturally, or was the strange process only touching these soldiers, he wondered.

Varos will whisper to Clarence. "Maybe we should just take the candelabra. They are older and unarmed."

Tibor stands and raises his cup. "Cheers to you, lads! A drink!" Then he looks at the cup of the guard next to him and says, "Oh my friend, it looks like your cup is nearly empty! Let me help you with that." He takes the other man's cup and begins pouring his own brandy into it.

"Your master has been so generous to us already. I insist that you have the first drink. Bottoms up!" He offers the man's now overflowing cup back to him.

Just as he suspected! There was powerful magic at work in this room! The others were right to try and pilfer the magic light, as it was emanating powerful, powerful magic!

Still, there was more to be seen here, and the guards were busy with the others.

"Excellent idea!" Anton exclaimed at the suggestion that those not seated go check on the food.

He turned and walked toward the kitchen bringing his light rod with him. He intended to reach the entrance to the new area and give a good look inside before stepping inside.

Frac forces a wide, toothy grin, careful to keep his sharp goblin eyes gleaming with interest but not too much hunger.

He leans in conspiratorially, waving a hand as if brushing off the joke about prisoners.

"Ah, no chains on us, that's for sure!" he says with a chuckle, his voice raspy but friendly. "But you must hear all sorts of tales guarding a place like this, huh? We've heard rumors, y’know, whispers in the wind... about strange things going on. Curses, they say. Hauntings. The Count and his... well, let’s just say unusual tastes." He arches a brow, glancing between them, looking for any flicker of discomfort or recognition. "We’re just guests, of course, but the castle’s got its fair share of shadows, eh? Anything we should keep an eye out for? Wouldn’t want to stumble into something we shouldn’t while exploring."

As he speaks, he avoids the food, casually pushing a piece of bread to the side, his hands never straying toward the drink. Instead, he keeps his gaze sharp, attentive, hoping one of the guards lets something useful slip between their drunken boasts.

Anton and his source of light disappear into the nearby corridor.

Varos will go with Anton. Don't want leave anyone on their own. "Anton, I will come with."

Dex check

Anton was somewhere out of sight.

Gregory sits at the table, waiting for the trickle of magical information. He was unraveling the properties of the strange candle even now, and needed a moment’s quiet. Sitting would at least stop the guards from badgering him to join in!

Tibor looks down at his refilled cup and blinks. He clears his throat and sets the cup down.

"While we wait for my compatriots to check on the food, perhaps you fellows might be interested in a contest of strength?" He looks around at the guards, seeing if anything further about them has changed.

Frac waits to see what will happen.

Looks to Anton "What the hell was that? Was that real?"

Clarence is very intrigued by the light. So intrigued that with a muttered—or more accurately bellowed—excuse me, he tries to hop up on to the table in between the trenchers of meat and flagons of drink, and get his hands on that candle.

Clarence has a positively horrible thought. The candle—so bright, burning so fast, does it relate to the guards aging? He jumps off the table with a scream UNHOLY AND PROFANE. He quickly looks at his hands to see if they have aged being so close to that black taper. He has years of bodybuilding events to consider, let alone the effects of age on intramuscular ligament elasticity.

Clarence breathes a sigh of relief as he reassures himself of his muscularity. Maybe throwing in a couple of extra flexes, but he was really perturbed. Once he gets a hold of himself, he turns to Frac and says You know magic, right? What's with that black candle. It's freaking creeping me out.

"Gregory is sorting it out. But he needs some time..." - replies the goblin, nodding his head towards his fellow wizard. He noticed the casting of Detect Magic a while ago.

"By Memnon's black arse, I know not!", the wide-eyed young priest exclaimed in response to Varos' question.

Despite his obvious shock, the young priest stood his ground and kept looking at the unbelievable chamber beyond.

Gregory slinks forward, now sure that this whole thing was a farce! He licks his thumb and forefinger, so as to wet them sufficiently enough to quench the candle. He presses the flame between his digits, and so snuffs out the magical light!

"Now then, let’s see who is left among us!" he says, looking about the room to do a body count!

In a near panic, Clarence takes one of the two candles he has and lights it with one of the matches.

Gregory, seeing the efforts to light the room, warns the others:

"If I am correct, we will find ourselves quite alone when the light returns!"

Not afraid of bones, Frac now looks around and checks the real room. Anything of note? He also ensures that Gregory kept the black candle with him. It may be useful later.

"We'd better talk to the others," Anton told Varos. And acting upon his words, but without closing the door, he turned and moved back towards the feasting hall.

Given the drastic and macabre change to the room and its denizens, Clarence examines the table for any evidence of the golden candelabra, fearing that it too was subject to the candle's illusion and that it is no longer gold but dross.

"Yes let's return to the others and tell them about this." Varos will go back with Anton.

Clarence reaches for the candelabra, Gold is always useful, and more so for one of the exits from this accursed castle, he vocalizes. He also carefully picks up the magical candle. I hope we don’t have to use this. It was linked to the illusion that lived within these bones, he says with a shudder.

Tibor exhales in relief as Clarence sparks the candle and the room flares back into sight. He breathes slowly, looking around at the macabre mess hall as the new flame flickers.

"Thank Gede! I thought I was going to have to actually tell a story there for a second."

Tibor looks at the skeletal remains more closely for anything that might be of use. He tells himself that nothing will happen being so close to the remains that had appeared as men, that the candle was the magic and these are just old bones.

Anton and Varos return to the feast hall turned ossuary.

The young priest speaks out as soon as he enters the room, bearing more light.

"You won't believe what we just... what in Madeera's name happened here?". He looked about in shock, failing tio recognize the place, but happy to see his companions, at least, seemed to be still alive.

"An illusion." Gregory says by way of explanation.

"I wonder if the candle shows a different scene in each room, or if the light bends the room’s shape to that of a feasting hall…" he goes on, speculating on the candle’s power.

"There is little else for us here! Shall we go on? Did you find a way forward for us?" he asks those that recently returned to the guard room!

Frac quickly explains to Anton how the room turned into this after they extinguished the candle and asks what lies ahead in the next one.

Varos looks nervously over his shoulder "I don't think we want to go that way." is all he says still not sure what just happened.

"If that's the case, we should go upstairs. I am afraid our time is running short." - the goblin shows the clock.

"Yes, indeed! Alright, well… back then!" Gregory says, leading the others with some hurry towards the green and glowing light in the other direction!

"Wait, I meant up the stairs! Oh, Frac... but okay, I am going with you. "

The goblin follows Gregory

"The kitchen was tremendously large, made for a giant. And a giant's hand attempted to grab Varos and I. If you want to rush about as mice while a giant tries to stomp us, the kitchen is the way."

The priest was still visibly shaken by the fright he had incurred when he opened the doorway.

"Has anyone looked at the grandfather clock?" he pursued, pointing with his radiating iron bar at the new ly revealed decorative piece. If no one had, he will quickly examine the contraption, hoping to find something concealed in it.

Clarence wonders why he's the only one who remembers the corpse illusion in the cells. Perhaps because he was scared nearly out of his luxurious skin and magnificent physique. My friends, remember the Path of the Enchanter. A kitchen is a logical place for recipes and ingredients, although I would prefer not to be smashed by a giant hand before I enter a few more competitions. I figure we're not trying to end the curse but get the heck out of here, right? Although we did find a sword, I don't think it is the sword, since we found it in the depths and not great heights.

"Well then…" Gregory says, crossing to fetch the parchment from the skull’s eye socket. "It seems that we can move around the castle by using these ingredients!" he says, matter of factly. In fact, he had never come across magic quite so varied as this, and with so few components!

Ok. So we’ve found the path of the enchanter. I don’t like that last part, though. If the enchanter’s cost is a finger or two, what is the doorman’s cost?? That being said, do we use this mystical pot to explore other paths or do we start collecting ingredients? For that matter do each of us have to collect separate ingredients or can we collect one set and then just add our own teeth? Clarence was not giving up anything that would affect his looks or his ability to lift weights.

"Probably that we became vampires ourselves. I am even willing to lose a body part, but not to turn myself into a monster. This path is closed to me. Anyway, I think we should get back and move upstairs. Unless someone have the Eye of Newt? I would like to see the tower. "

I, too, want to see the tower. I believe the tower has elements of three paths: The Raven who offers a "lofty escape", the Enchanter herself, who requires "the Queen who lives on icing tower", and possible the sword of the final path, which may be found in "a place of great heights—where the stone itself beats with life." I'm sure there is an eye of newt in these ingredients. But what did the enchanter mean bv a "minor cost"? It has to be less than a tooth, which is required for her path.

Varos looks at Clarence "You don't want to pluck out an eye? Yes let's continue on to the tower."

"I agree that we should continue to the tower. We only have 2 hours left by the toll of the bells and who knows what other tricks this place will play on us."

As they begin walking, he adds "I must say, losing a tooth sounds much better than an eye..."