The Four Pillars

Game Master chavamana

She steps back a couple of steps. "Let us inherit thine arms, Iomedae," she intones.

Konstantin looks at the racks of weapons. "I did not expect it to be so literal."

Samirah takes a deep breath when she peaks her head into the hidden room. "I didn't realize how badly I wanted a breath of air that wasn't... everything we've been breathing since we stepped inside the garrison."

Míril Celegeth wrote:

She steps back a couple of steps. "Let us inherit thine arms, Iomedae," she intones.

Konstantin looks at the racks of weapons. "I did not expect it to be so literal."

"That's kind of what passes for a sense of humor with Her People." Chancre shrugs. "No complaints here."

Konstantin Argentaev wrote:

Míril Celegeth wrote:

She steps back a couple of steps. "Let us inherit thine arms, Iomedae," she intones.

Konstantin looks at the racks of weapons. "I did not expect it to be so literal."

"That's kind of what passes for a sense of humor with Her People." Chancre shrugs. "No complaints here."

"Some of us just prefer out entendre to not extend to our religious goals." Irabeth comments dryly.

Samirah makes a rude noise. "A little surprising that no one thought to try it before we got here, though." Her eyes land on a scimitar, and grow larger with unconcealed excitement. "I see someone had good taste in weaponry."

"I see someone had good taste in weaponry."

"Indeed they did," replies Míril. "Hey, look! I've been meaning to pick up a cold iron short sword."

"No deity I know of favors the tongue stud as their weapon," Drea says, deadpan. "I'll have to get a cold iron one made."

"No deity I know of favors the tongue stud as their weapon," Drea says, deadpan. "I'll have to get a cold iron one made."

A momentary frown ripples Konstantin's brow, but he says nothing.

"No deity I know of favors the tongue stud as their weapon," Drea says, deadpan. "I'll have to get a cold iron one made."

Chancre nods. "Amulet of Mighty Face."

"No deity I know of favors the tongue stud as their weapon," Drea says, deadpan. "I'll have to get a cold iron one made."

"You'll forgive me if this is an impolite question, but wouldn't a cold iron tongue stud burn your mouth?" Samirah asks, eyebrow raised, as she tests the new scimitar against the one she's carried for years.

"You'll forgive me if this is an impolite question, but wouldn't a cold iron tongue stud burn your mouth?" Samirah asks, eyebrow raised, as she tests the new scimitar against the one she's carried for years.

Drea nods. "I think so, yes. But ..." She considers her words for a moment. "If it were the Efreet who had invaded, a scimitar made of ice might be uncomfortable for you to hold, but it'd be worse for whatever Efreet you shoved the sharp bit into."

Drea nods. "I think so, yes. But ..." She considers her words for a moment. "If it were the Efreet who had invaded, a scimitar made of ice might be uncomfortable for you to hold, but it'd be worse for whatever Efreet you shoved the sharp bit into."

Samirah nods, but is laughing a little while she does so. "Certainly, that is a fair statement. But I don't hold the scimitar with my tongue." She tongues the tip of her own tongue briefly, then makes a face. She looks more serious for a moment. "There are other questions I wish to ask, but they can wait until we're back at in safety."

Following back a bit, examining her father's sword in detail, Irabeth looks up her brow furrowed. "Levity in the midst of mind-numbing horror and violence is a long accepted practice, but I would request that you steer clear of this particular topic." A pause, then with no apology, but clipped facts, "My wife was raised in a culture where consent was a privilege granted only to the powerful and the few. Had I been raised in the hordes of Belkzen rather than in a small farming village, I would no doubt share Anevia's unease. Nonetheless it can trigger unwanted memories for those like her."

Samirah bows her head slightly. "Consent, and the power to ignore it, is often a privilege granted only to the powerful in any culture." She looks around the group. "And we are becoming very powerful."

At that, Samirah leaves the small room, new scimitar in hand, to wait outside while the others make use of the armory.

Konstantin nods at both Irabeth's and Samirah's words, bit of the tension bleeding from his posture.

Once everyone has had the opportunity to outfit themselves from the hidden armory, there is no where left to go but up. To the door beyond which meaty sounds occasionally agitate.

Stairway

The floor between the door and the base of the stairs is brimming with the small bloated forms of demons. Their mouthless, melted faces stare at the door with only the dimmest of intellect, just enough to know that you do not belong and are a target for the fury roiling beneath the heavy flesh.

Perched halfway up the stone stairs, where she can just keep an eye on the doorway, but out of the mass of the demons, is a red-headed tiefling. She pauses, trying to figure out who is coming through the lower door.

Samirah pops her head through the opened door, and sees a floor covered in demons. "I guess this is as good a method as any for slowing intruders." She quips.

Editing kerfuffle :)

Samirah pops her head through the opened door, looking over the demons, and making eye contact with the tiefling on the stairs. She grins.

"We killed an alchemist in the other room; was he a friend of yours?" She asks airily. "He was skilled with fire. I hate to say I was a little bit impressed."

The woman starts a bit. A brief smile, almost wistful as she turns decidedly, ready to run up the stairs. "Good on you. Orthibuto and Jeslyn are both bastards who deserve each other." A vocal pause, "Or Orthibuto was a bastard who deserved Jeslyn. Really wish the peetaybee had left someone better in charge."

"F#!@." A shrug, "If you get past the guards upstairs, I'd appreciate if you didn't pass that along."

"These will not slow us for long, искра."

Konstantin appears ready to cast a spell.

"What could?" Samirah responds with a warm smile. She turns back to the stairs and the tiefling. "If your instinct is not to attack us on sight, we could have words?" She offers.

"What could?" Samirah responds with a warm smile. She turns back to the stairs and the tiefling. "If your instinct is not to attack us on sight, we could have words?" She offers.

The woman grins back, "No. My instinct is to do exactly what I was told to do, which was run up before you have a chance to strike me down so that everyone upstairs will be ready to perforate you mercilessly."

A shrug, as a the smile sloughs off her face, adding lines to her face which make her look older than she did moments ago. "And probably die during that. But honestly, better than being hunt down later and tortured to death for going against the peetaybee."

"Sorry. It really is..." a pause, "well, not you or me, because I'll probably be dead either way." She motions to the dretches guarding the traverse of floor between the door and the bottom of the stairs, "F**~, these things could kill me with a blow, they just don't because they fear what would happen if they start killing things they were told not to."

"But it is a quick death in battle or being slowly killed in a great deal of pain."

Konstantin speaks, in near icy monotone. "Then look at it logically. All who have stood against us have been killed. Stand fast, and you will not be harmed. Run or fight, and I will cut you down myself. Those upstairs are mere hypotheticals. You face Konstantin Argentaev now, and I am your death."

He pauses, the words growing lighter. "Or your salvation. The choice is yours."

Samirah runs a hand through her hair and drops that hand to her hip. "The aforementioned alchemist had his head blown away with the ice from Konstantin's hands." She pauses. "The way behind us is clear, if you wish to avoid the death that awaits you upstairs at either his hands or anyone else's."

She looks pointedly at Drea, then back to the tiefling. "Redemption is always an option for someone who truly wishes it." Another pause. "What's your name? And what's a peetaybee?"

Konstantin speaks, in near icy monotone. "Then look at it logically. All who have stood against us have been killed. Stand fast, and you will not be harmed. Run or fight, and I will cut you down myself. Those upstairs are mere hypotheticals. You face Konstantin Argentaev now, and I am your death."

He pauses, the words growing lighter. "Or your salvation. The choice is yours."

"So I run?" She says. Her tone suggesting she has thought about it, "I might get past the crusaders, espcially since this town is still up a creek, but past that in the human world?" She shakes her head, "Even if it has been different for the past decade, I'm sure this foobar will reset them to kill on sight."

"F~+#. It isn't even Jeslyn. Her I could outrun," a pause, "Seriously, she has this whole leg that has been turned into a bug's claw and she is slow."

"The way behind us is clear, if you wish to avoid the death that awaits you upstairs."

"Upstairs would be a death from all you." Accepting the group's superiority to herself with ease, "Quick death followed by oblivion."

"Running? Running means a slow death. Demons don't need to rest, to eat. Minagho can wear any face and even if the green-skinned bastard was the first one to hand off responsibility here until it ended up in Jeslyn's misshappen and poor care, running is still a slow and painful death sentence." A pause and the woman meets people's eyes, her own ever so slightly blank in memory, "You can live a long time even when you don't want to, you know?"

"What's your name? And what's a peetaybee?"

"Important people get names. Fodder that will die and pass on doesn't." A snort, "And I'm not quite stupid enough to think, 'hey you', 'b@~*%', or 'the red-haired one' are actually names."

"Pee. Tee. Bee. The powers that be, the things that f*&# you up when you draw their attention."

"You surrender. Place yourself under our protection. You tell us everything you know about your former allies, and we defend you from them. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement and the only outcome where you remain breathing. Your choice should be obvious."

Samirah sighs, sounding a little impatient. "We can even give you a proper name, too, if you're interested."

"Or you can pick your own and we will call you by it," Chancre says.

"You surrender. Place yourself under our protection. You tell us everything you know about your former allies, and we defend you from them. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement and the only outcome where you remain breathing. Your choice should be obvious."

Her eyes shoot up the stairs, then quietly but with confidence, "Knock thrice on the exterior of the door."

Samirah sighs, sounding a little impatient. "We can even give you a proper name, too, if you're interested."

The tiefling's eyes narrow.

"Or you can pick your own and we will call you by it," Chancre says.

And the hint of tension in her shoulders settles down.

"Thank you," says Konstantin. "Please remain where you are while we kill these demons. In the meantime, I am Konstantin Argentaev, and I will stand between you and danger for as long as I am able."

The woman blinks, "I'm not saying this because I have any problem with the demons dying, because frankly they are bastards, but you might want to hold off. Combat down here will have the same effect as me running up stairs to warn everyone that you're here."

"If you knock, these guys have been trained to accept you as allies and will let you past."

The woman blinks, "I'm not saying this because I have any problem with the demons dying, because frankly they are bastards, but you might want to hold off. Combat down here will have the same effect as me running up stairs to warn everyone that you're here."

"If you knock, these guys have been trained to accept you as allies and will let you past."

"Can you get us past these demons? Or should I knock at the doorjamb here?"

She nods. "On the doorjam." She shrugs, "They have been bound to this room, so unless Minagho or someone else with real power comes back they shouldn't be able to follow you upstairs."

Konstantin knocks on the doorjamb and begins to walk through the dretches.

THIS IS YOUR FIRST TEST, TIEFLING. Seriously, you do not want to know what Samirah will do if this doesn't work.

"Thank you," says Konstantin. "Please remain where you are while we kill these demons. In the meantime, I am Konstantin Argentaev, and I will stand between you and danger for as long as I am able."

A finger by the side of his nose, the quick point and fingers to his own chest. The smallest of smiles and a nod to the tiefling. He follows suit with Kon and the others.

Samirah looks distastefully at the demons as she moves around them and up the stairs behind Konstantin.

"Always the diplomat, he," she says to the tiefling while gesturing to Chancre. "See you when we're finished with our business." This time, her smile merely serves as a firm punctuation to her statement.

Samirah "The Salad Shooter" Basri, in the house.

THIS IS YOUR FIRST TEST, TIEFLING. Seriously, you do not want to know what Samirah will do if this doesn't work.

Konstantin knocks on the doorjamb and begins to walk through the dretches.

There is palpable anger and barely restrained battle lust from the small creatures as Konstantin pushes through the obese bodies. At the same time the tiefling jumps down the last few steps, dodging past the demon as though she doesn't full trust it to not strike out at her.

Samirah looks distastefully at the demons as she moves around them and up the stairs behind Konstantin.

The woman kind of winces as she sees Samirah start to step onto the stairs, "You might not want to stand right there, all they are going to have to do is look down and they'll see you."

She leans against the far wall, above the broken and shattered remains of a sideboard, closing her eyes. "Right at the top of the stairs there are six guards," her voice is low, "If they realize you are enemies they'll start trying to pick you off on the stairs, otherwise it will be a gut and dump at the top. The ones on guard now have a 8 hour shift, with back ups," her closed eyes squeeze tighter for just a moment, bring out the lines of muscle on her too-thin face, "sleeping. Another eight either relaxes down here or in the city."

"There is a room in the corner with troop movements placement of the crusaders and there are some human followers of the locust organizing that. Jeslyn has her scary pet in the room in corner. F@~%ing thing wants to eat us just as much as you, so the tielfing and the human culists will run if you let it out of the meeting room."

A pause, "'course it will try to eat you all if it can't get at easier prey."

"There is a schir," her body stiffening and the lines of her face hard, "randy goat demon that moves around on the second floor as well as some mutated flies with human faces."

She breathes out, "Finally, Jeslyn raised a f&%* ton of the dead crusaders as fast zombies some in reserve on the second floor to get past and a number that she keeps outside the wardstone chamber."

"Then all you'll have left is Jeslyn herself and Deradnu." This time she can't quite control the shudder of fear and revulsion. "Deradnu was a present from the Ivory Labyrinth to support Deskari's taking of the city. Minotaur almost ten feet tall with blood-red fur and demonic eyes."

Samirah regards the tiefling woman with something softer than the earlier looks she gave her. "Thank you for your very thorough assistance." She bows her head slightly.

She moves out of the way of easy sight from the upstairs as much as she's able. Then, to her friends, in a low voice: "It sounds like we're about to walk into a nightmare. And it's probably not one we can talk our way around, because as soon as we attack who needs attacking, the ones we left behind will likely be alerted anyway. But we're fighting for the right reasons, and we're all good at what we do."

After a pause, she looks to Konstantin, gets up on the very tips of her toes, and kisses his cheek after a little hop for extra height.

She looks back to the tiefling-with-no-name. "Is there anything else we should know? Or any message you'd like us to pass along with our weapons?" She taps the hilt of her scimitar.

Roshan's open hand goes to his lips, then extend slightly towards the tiefling. Again, a slight nod.

Konstantin nods at what Samirah says. His eyes fairly sparkle at the kiss.

To the tiefling: "If this information is accurate, you have been most helpful."

"Thanks," Chancre says to the tiefling. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Thanks," Chancre says to the tiefling. "By the way, what's your name?"

The woman's face goes more than a bit blank, only the tightness around her eyes and a hint of confusion in them showing anything.

Into the Breech

As Samirah heads up the stairs she sees one of the tieflings above, there is a moment of confusion then hands go towards weapons.

Chancre Cailean wrote:

"Thanks," Chancre says to the tiefling. "By the way, what's your name?"

The woman's face goes more than a bit blank, only the tightness around her eyes and a hint of confusion in them showing anything.

"It's okay," Chancre says. "But start thinking about it."