Saturday, 14 October 2023

ItO solo - Part X : Whatever Madame requires

They wheel about to see a woman in a floofy ballgown descending the stairs above them. The gas lamps on the landing send shimmers across the satin and taffeta, and her intricate coiffeur is a-gleam with glass and metal ornaments of unguessable antiquity (i.e. last season). But most arresting are her eyes, hidden behind great crystal lenses which pulse and shimmer with a inner light. These last mark her indisputably as Lady Zurzoria Belial, one of the rogue councillors.

[Q: What is her immediate reaction? a Sample of his Beneficence]

"Well, this is unexpected!" she says. "Whoever can you be? And whatever are you doing here? And however did you get in?"

"Please, my Lady," says Athalie with an ungainly curtsey [DEX save d20=7, ok - doesn't fall down stairs], "don't be alarmed. We were sent."

"Sent? Whomever by?"

"By certain of your colleagues on the outside. They expressed some consternation at their inability to come in person, and tasked us with finding an entrance and reconnoitring the building, to report back on conditions within."

"I'm sure they were ever so worried about us! Or more likely, about whatever we're getting up to in their absence..."

"Well, indeed, I can't say their intentions are entirely altruistic..." [reaction - WIL save d20=4, ok]

"And perhaps I should welcome the, er, assistance they sent. For whatever differences of opinion divide us, I fear we've now a common foe. Perhaps I may be able to use you. Er, I mean, be of use to you." [friendly - aid - enemy]

"What, um, what are your terms?" asks Isabeau.

"My terms? Well, that, I suppose, will depend on whatever offer my esteemed colleagues put forth."

"I just want my council tax arrears forgiven."

"Is that all? I can surely see to that!"

"And we all owe rather a great sum of money to our patron," adds Bassianus.

"And just whoever is your patron?"

"I... I'd rather not say."

"We were cautioned against uttering his name aloud," adds Athalie.

"His spies are everywhere," whispers Isabeau.

[Q: Does she know their patron? likely (3+): O6 C5 - yes]

"Say no more," says Zurzoria, casting a glance back over her shoulder. "I suppose I could put in a word."

Zurzoria leads them down the stairs and into the little room beneath them with its agitated, wig-wearing occupant, whom she introduces as Ilmen Regal, one of the council tax collectors.

"Now, my good Ilmen, these people are my dear friends, and are to be treated accordingly. And they're soon to be your friends as well, for I am sending them to recover the Arcanum that the other councillors have so wrongly taken from you. I, of course, must maintain plausible deniability in case anything whatsoever goes horribly, terribly, awfully wrong. To that end, I shall distract the others in the building whilst you, my dear friends, recover the Arcanum. It's on the first floor in the room off the chemical laboratory, on the west side of the building. Find me or Ilmen when you have it. And don't go up these stairs -- I'll try keep everyone on this side."

Lady Belial flounces off up the stairs as the explorers return to the hall and then head east into a room with shelf after shelf of glass flasks [Präparate - preparations].

Athalie reads a few of the labels aloud. "Phosgene... arsenic trioxide... sodium arsenate... Strongbow... I dare say most of these are too toxic to handle."

They proceed with the utmost caution through the room and out into a chamber with work places [Arbeitsplätze] along one wall and movable partitions between. They see no one, and their footsteps seem overly loud in the stillness. They continue east through an unused room and further into an anteroom [Vorraum] with a line of comfortable wooden chairs and a magazine rack along one wall. Perched on one of the chairs is a nightmare insect, the size of a steamer trunk. The thing's carapace is gangrenous and decayed, but for every bit that sloughs off onto the befouled carpet, a new eruption of hard chitin grows elsewhere.

[encounter: weird thing
d%=decaying insect, regenerates]
Horrible Insect
STR 10, DEX 17, WIL 10, 4 HP
broken mandibles (d8)
regenerates 1d12/round until destroyed with fire, acid, etc.


[Q: Does it talk or just attack? 1d2=attack]

The thing buzzes and gurgles with malice as it leaps on three unsteady legs towards the intruders in its domain.

[Round 1]
They meet its onrush with bared steel. The blades bite deep, but despite the loss of several limbs the thing does not waver in its assault. [3+3+3=9dmg to 0hp, 5 STR; d20=no crit]

Its viscid mandibles snap at Athalie, forcing her back a step. The stench of decay coming off them makes her almost swoon. [5 damage puts her at 5hp]

And its wounds seem about to close up [regenerates d12=3, back up to 8 STR].

[Round 2]
Athalie recovers and cracks its head open with her sword. Bassianus caves in its shoulder with his axe, and nearly connects with Isabeau's blade transfixing the beast from the other side. It falls to the ground, leaking an upsetting pool of foulness. [5+3+2=10 dmg to -2STR].

"I think we're safe," hazards Bassianus. "It's brains are seeping into the carpeting."

"Athalie, dear," says Isabeau, "you're looking rather peaked. Maybe you'd ought to sit down for a moment."

Her stomach still in knots, she complies without protest.

Isabeau and Bassianus examine the door labelled "Arbeitszimmer für Assistenten und Praktikanten" and find it locked. They are poking about in the lock with their tools when they hear Athalie shriek. They turn about just in time to see Athalie standing on her chair and the insect lunging at her from the floor, only to be met by Athalie's blade with a sickening crunch. It once again falls back to the ground, twitching and gurgling.

[It regenerated d12=7 up to 5 STR; Athalie made a DEX save to avoid Surprise, and hit it for 4 dmg to 1 STR; d20=14, crit.]

"Heavens!" exclaims Isabeau. "I should have though of this before. What a silly goose I am!" She roots round in her pack and produces a flask of sulphuric acid, which she unstoppers and begins pouring over the insect in each spot that the regeneration begins. "I've been saving this for just such an occasion!"

"That flask looks just like the one you keep your drinkies in," observes Bassianus.

"Oh, I can tell the difference," says Isabeau, emptying the last of it over the chitin soup bubbling on the floor.

"Just stay on her good side, my dear," says Athalie, "and you needn't worry."

Bassianus has a go at the door and triumphantly announces he's picked the lock, then leads the way into the vast workroom [Arbeitszimmer f. Assistenten u. Praktikanten]. Rows of desks and benches are arrayed in the centre and beneath the windows -- beyond which only shimmering energy can be seen. Bookcases line the interior wall.

[I rolled 2 dice for an encounter as it's a big, useful place: encounter = servant. 1d4=1]

A servant is sweeping round the desks, [d6=]her white apron glowing purple with the eerie flashes of the energy field outside. She looks up as the explorers enter, and is just opening her mouth to say something when Bassianus snaps, "get back to work!" [WIL save=2, it works!] The startled maid lowers her eyes and goes back to her sweeping forthwith.

The southeastern door leads out into another little retreat [Retirade] smelling mostly of cigars, which leads out to a stairwell, mirroring the eastern half of the building. They file up the stairs to the first floor [erster Stock], and proceed north through into [Chemisches Arbeitzimmer] a chemical workroom with experiments bubbling away unattended on every workbench and counter.
The explorers move through it with extreme caution. They find the door to the chemical laboratory locked. Athalie gets to work on the lock with a metal utensil borrowed from one of the tables. [no encounters]

"We'd really ought to buy proper lockpicks," observes Isabeau.

Athalie mumbles something non-committal, absorbed in her task.

When they have gained entrance, they find the chemical laboratory [Chem. Laboratorium] to have been cleared of all furnishings. There is only a ghostly centipede floating in the middle of the chamber, undulating in a non-existent breeze. It darts immediately toward the intruders, shimmering with necrotic energy.

[automatic encounter: ghostly insect, fires death rays]
Phasmatopede
STR 9, DEX 10, WIL 12, 7 HP
Ghostly chitin (1 Armour)
Etherial Death Aura (d8 blast)



[Round 1]
They fall upon the creature with their weapons. Some blows swish straight through its semi-corporeal form, whilst others strike unyielding chitin. [3+4+3-3(armour x3)=7 damage to 0hp]

Waves of unwholesome force flash out from the thing, eroding the psyche and abrading the nerves. [A takes 1 to 9hp; I takes 8 to 1hp; B takes 5 to 4 STR, d20=2, no crit]

[Round 2]
Bassianus has the worst of it, but still he fights on beside his comrades. The thing soon loses cohesion under their thrashings, and drifts to the floor, leaking long wisps of ectoplasm into the air.

Another pull from their flasks is felt to be in order after the enervating effects of the creature's aura [short rest, no encounter], then they examine the southerly doors...

[Q: Is either one obviously more secure than the other? Unlikely (5+): O3 C1 - no, and...]

...which prove to be entirely identical. Bassianus shrugs, and tries the eastern one, seemingly at random. [1d2=this is the correct room]
The room beyond [Zimmer für Specialuntersuchungen : room for special examinations] appears to be a study or a smoking room, being decorated with tasteful paintings, wooden panelling, amply-stocked bookshelves, and first rate furniture, probably all antique. The only thing that is at all out of place is a pair of oversized bell-shaped iron helmets sitting upon the desk, connected at the top by a length of segmented brass tubing [Major Arcanum, d20=Mind Probe]. The explorers can practically feel the power emanating from the device. There can be no doubt but that this is the Arcanum they seek.

They peer at it, unsure of how to proceed. Some vile trap is certain to protect the device. Guardian or not, it can't just be sitting on a desk in an unlocked room, now can it? They search for traps, and find none. Then they search again. Still nothing. So they have a third go.

Athalie is afraid to touch it, so uses her sword to nudge it gently off the desk. One helmet tumbles onto the plush carpet with a dull thud. Despite the tubing, the second takes a little more prodding to push off after it, as they're both rather heavy [counts as a Bulky item]. The explorers stand over the helmets, staring down at them suspiciously.

"I-- I thinks it's safe to..." begins Isabeau. But the others call her bluff by not contradicting her, so that she feels compelled to go through with it and collect the item from the floor, lifting it by the connecting tube using her clockwork hand, lest the metal touch her skin.

[Q: Is it trapped? certain (2+): O1 C9 - no]

Nothing untoward transpires, so after they all laugh at their own paranoia, they begin to quickly and quietly (they hope!) retrace their steps. [1 encounter check per room traversed: 3,6,1 : minor personage]

As they reach the stairs, a creature of singular aspect is coming down from above them. It is the size of a sturdily-built man, and clad in an outmoded fashion, but its terrible head draws all eyes in as surely as it repulses the onlookers. It resembles nothing so much as the fossilised skull of a an extinct elephant. Great, downward-curving tusks protrude from the lower jaw, with its rows of exposed teeth. Empty eye sockets regard the explorers with brutish contempt. So arresting is the awful visage that one might nearly overlook the vice-like claws it has in place of hands. The thing stops short when it finds others on the stairs, and appears to be waiting for something.
Grank
STR 18, DEX 7, WIL 4, 12 HP
Vice-claws (d10, critical damage destroys a random limb)
Driven to carry out his master's orders, whilst grousing about it the whole time. Uninterested in anything else, unless he can complain about it delaying him.


[Q: What's Grank doing? dissipate the inward Darkness]

A steady stream of grumping and grousing issues from the cavernous maw. "'Go down to the cellar, Grank', they said. 'You're not too busy with all your other chores. Must make sure no one's left the gaslights on again.' Always leaving something going round here. If it's not the gaslights it's the chemical experiments. Can't ever finish a thing properly, not when they have old Grank to do it for them. Wastrels and layabouts, the lot of 'em. 'Fetch me my slippers, Grank. They're all the way across the room. You've certainly nothing better to be doing. And don't forget to polish the silver. And count it, Grank. The other servants aren't to be trusted.' It's not the servants stealing here, not that the masters want to hear it! Not that they'd listen to old Grank even if..."

The creature's monologue shows no signs of abating, so the bemused explorers rush down he stairs ahead of it, hoping it doesn't notice what Isabeau is carrying.

[d6=4,4,3,3,5,6,3 - no further encounters (roll of 1), or nearby footsteps/voices (2)]

They come back to Ilmen Regal's retreat [Retirade] without so much as hearing the footsteps of another being.

[Q: How does he react when he sees the arcanum? exemplary Conversation]

They are trepidatious about their reception, but Ilmen is on his best behaviour -- possibly having been threatened by Zurzoria. He ushers them politely into his retreat and offers them wine and cheap cigars (they accept both) then launches into a long and desultory tale of how he came by the Mind Probe. [knowing - report - history]

[Q: Does anyone die of boredom before Zurzoria returns? Unlikely (5+): O3 C2 - no, and...]

It turns out that once he gets started, Ilmen can weave quite the tale. But I should not relay his words to you, dear reader, for fear his marvellous eloquence would too greatly overshadow my own.

[Q: Does Zurzoria come back before anything else happens? unknown d6=6; O6 C5 - yes
The Doubtful (6) odds imply she almost didn't, so what is going on? Emanations of Splendor]


He is about to begin an excursus on the known history of the Probe when a breathless Zurzoria bursts in.

"The Star Being... has... broken free!" she gasps. "Those... fools thought they... could control it!"


next post: cosmic terror

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