Gameplay 3 - Demonic Petitioner

Fritz

You grow to admire their exuberance if only in some small way, until a forearm is bared. The purposeful markings chill your spine. It is confusing, how they can bee so lively, youthful, playful even, while all deep in thrall of the undead-loving demon.

Grok & Company

Helge cats the spell, and the black dust, sparkles and flares, burning of as it touches the blade. Her lips move automatically, and she breathes out a prayer:

Thine eye be struck, grow hard inside, get your people across any divide,
A wanderer may with a blade to play find his kinsmen without need for luck,
Worship thy host, speak Hallisling, and I'll show you your friends, soulstruck.


She gestures idly for Grok to take the blade. "Soulstruck, an ancient tool. It must be dedicated to Orcus, though any priest can change that."

Helge points at the two paladins. "Either of these two would suffice, as well."

Old Man Sydell comes down the stairs with a small wooden box, plain of design, but old. He hands it to her reverently. She opens it and pulls out a bent crown. She frowns, unbends it, and then examines it critically. "Behold, the Diadem of Veringvox!" She tosses it into the table. "Never treat such filth with reverence. They seem to grow stronger with praise."

Helge nods at the dragonborn. "The dagger is irrelevant. It is merely a tool that currently find friends of Orcus. Dedicate it to your god, and it will find fellow devotees."

She points at the crown. "This will control the dracolich. I will keep it safe, and deal with that abomination once and for all."

"The Duke gave me no instructions on the cult, other than to be on the lookout for them. I leave that for you to deal with, while I prepare to confront Veringvox. Let me know if you run into something that you need my help on."

Fritz

The bartender watches you suspiciously, but does nothing as you begging your charade. The cultists, however, take notice as you draw near. A young man with rougish good looks palms a coin from the table and goes to plop it in your mug, though his attention is really on a cute girl. When he gets close, he spies your medallion to Apollo and lurches backward, confused.

Fritz

The boy chucks his silver coin at your mug, but it bounces on the edge and falls to the floor. "Take it and go," he hisses.

The Others

Helge smiles. "When I am awake, this tower is plenty secure, though I thank you for thinking of an old woman."

You are on the mainfloor, so it is an easy jump to the ground, less than a man height, from the window. Winding stairs in the center of the room lead to the floors above.

To Cyrind'ae, she says, "No, leave that to me. I will take the Diadem to deal with the dragon. And indeed, Veringvox is its name, at least it was in life."

Helge nods. "If you don't mind sleeping down here, we can find you bedrolls and blankets. The upstairs is more workshop than living area." The main floor is wide open and there is plenty of floor space.