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Empty Spaces [IC] (Desril and steinulfr)

ylvathrall

ylvathrall

Super-Earth
Joined
Nov 20, 2016
In any city, there are certain rules. There are things one simply does not do, not out of any ethical concern, but because they are simply so foolish, so utterly insane, that not even the most foolhardy or arrogant of citizens would make the mistake of breaking these rules. In Cheliax, one does not say that the Queen is a fucking idiotic whore. In Kalsgard, one does not suggest that King Sveinn is a coward pretending to fill the shoes of greater men than he. In Kaer Maga, one does not go back on a witnessed contract, and doubly so not one made with the Church of Asmodeus.

And yet, here you are. This tower is the residence of Barnabas Traxian, a wizard of some repute who emigrated from Nex following a scandal having to do with a badly failed experiment that blew up most of a wing of the academy he worked in. Or, rather, it was that wizard's residence. But he took out a substantial loan from the Church of Asmodeus, which he has now defaulted on. The Asmodeans, not being a terribly forgiving lot, decided to repossess his tower to settle is debt.

And that's where it ran into problems. Apparently Barnabas wasn't entirely taken by surprise, and while he's not the best at control, he was still a reasonably talented wizard. His defenses took the Asmodean initiate sent to collect on his debt rather off guard, and left him a mutilated corpse near the door.

The Asmodeans are also a rather frugal lot, and rather than sending their own people to deal with the wizard's defenses, they posted an open bounty. Whoever could clear the tower of threats for them to reclaim would get a bounty of five thousand gold, no questions asked, and their pick of the tower's contents.

The first several people to attempt to collect that bounty met with about the same result as the initiate. Some died; others fled, and refused to speak about what happened there. And so the bounty remains unclaimed, as the tower still lies empty, waiting to be made safe.

Naturally, then, Emilia Ardoc came to the tower, to remove this obvious threat to the public safety. The elaborate golden door hangs open in front of you; the large, lavish entryway inside is in disarray. At the back of the room, a narrow marble staircase curves along the wall to the next floor.

Dried blood coats said staircase, splattered on the wall behind it and marking trails where it dripped down the side.
 
She'd heard about this tower. Working for the Church of Asmoedus' benefit rankled her, but as long as the bounty went unclaimed people would continue trying and dying, and that meant she had to bite the proverbial bullet and make a too literal deal with the devil to clear it herself. It was impressive though, gilded doors were always interesting to walk through, even when they're dirty or damaged.

Once inside though, there was little to do. Cleaning the place up was the job of those who came after her, but the bloodstain was a little disconcerting. Whatever had happened to the previous groups must not've been pretty, she thinks to herself before applying a basic protection and scanning the area for magical auras. Finding nothing of value, however, she shrugs and simply draws Serathiel, ready for a fight as she makes her way to, and up, the stairs.

Detect Magic, covered OOC, nothing

Mage Armor, 5 hours. 4 1st level spells left today
 
The climb up the stairs is tense, but quiet. You stalk up the stairs, sword drawn. Your fine leather boots slip as you step on a patch of blood that wasn't quite as dried as you thought, but you recover your balance smoothly and continue up the stairs to the next floor.

This one appears to be slightly less opulent than the ground floor, though still a lavishly decorated place, not at all what you would expect from someone swimming in debt. It looks like a sitting room of some kind; velvet-upholstered furniture made of exotic woods sits around a large marble fireplace. Tasteful paintings are on the walls, and you see a pair of abstract sculptures, their curved lines and strange proportions oddly unsettling.

Two doors open off of this room, both dark, delicately carved wood with golden handles. One leads to your left, and hangs open, revealing a wood-paneled hall. Directly in front of you, the other door is still firmly shut.
 
Recasting the simple divination, Emilia's eyes are drawn toward the closed door, "Well, hello there...guess this is where the other groups got stopped or the door would be open, wouldn't it?"

A few more seconds of study and she'd learn more about the magical aura lurking beyond the gilded door, but as the magic wasn't on the door itself, she wasn't worried about a trap, and knowing what school of magic the aura belonged to would do nothing to help her prepare as she only had one more defensive spell available, and though it would last the better part of an hour, she decided she'd rather not cast it until she was sure a fight would be at hand.

And so, the aasimar moves to open the door and enter the room beyond.
 
The door opens to reveal a smaller, more intimate study. This is clearly more of a place for a few friends to sit and talk: a pair of chairs, a table, another small fireplace. A shelf has numerous books, most of them bound in old, cracked leather. A glass-fronted cabinet holds several bottles of wine and brandy.

The magical aura seems to be coming from the floor at the center of the room. There are no other doors leading out, though one small glass window does look out from behind the table, across the room from the entrance.
 
Curious, even though she knows better, clearing out the tower means eliminating the traps laid within it. And so even though she is almost entirely certain of what will happen when she does so, Emilia strides confidently into the center of the room, stepping into the magical circle with Serathiel drawn.
 
The magic snaps and crackles as Emilia enters the enchanted area, a complex tracery of white light suddenly snapping into being all around her. She hears a quiet keening sound and smells an abrupt, vile stench as...something appears next to her. A squat, bloated thing that only vaguely resembles a humanoid shape, it stands barely as high as your chest, but likely weighs more than you all the same. Without even hesitating, it lunges for you, jaws spread wide. Its breath is foul enough to almost be a weapon itself, and you can see what look like chunks of putrid, rotting meat stuck in its teeth.
 
As the dretch is called into being before her, Emilia doesn't hesitate and snaps the sword down in a powerful two-handed overhead slash. Just as quickly as it appeared, where once there was a single dretch, now there were two halves of a dretch flying past her as its momentum carried it forward, the musetouched only being spared being drenched in its innards by the magic creating its body dissolving before they could reach her.

Breathing out in relief, "Well, that's one trap down...guess I should check that other door," she mutters to herself and makes good on her word, leaving this study and making for the other hall.
 
The hall is relatively short, with only one door off it. That door is already hanging open, and a quick glance suggests it to be a water closet of some kind, of the same quality as the rest of the hall. A marble tub, a gleaming silver basin...it looks like the sort of place you would imagine in a debauched sultan's home. That impression is likely reinforced by the array of perfumed soaps and oils, and the carved frieze depicting an orgy in graphic detail. It looks like only around half of the participants are human, the others being warped, demonic figures. Serathiel snorts contemptuously at that, but doesn't comment.

Past that rather unsettling room, the hall curves smoothly into another staircase. This one isn't stained with blood, though a few chips in the wall and a burn mark on the stairs suggests that one of the previous entrants did encounter something unpleasant here.

The next floor opens with a small foyer of sorts, complete with a hat stand, coat closet, and a painting of a unicorn on the wall. The unicorn's horn and hooves are dripping with gore, and its eyes are solid black. Four black doors open off of the central room, and then another narrow hall continues forward. At the end of it, you can see the stairs to the next floor above you.
 
Where Serathiel snorts, Emilia recoils in disgust and scowls, "Guess I need to clear this place out now for sure, Asmodean contractor or not."

But tearing down hideous artwork wasn't her job, she could destroy the 'art' on her way out. For now, she had to continue upward. The bloody unicorn was a little disconcerting, but she makes no comment and, though she spots the stairs, makes for the nearest door, intending to check all of them in a clockwise fashion.
 
The first door swings open on smooth, well-oiled hinges, revealing what looks to be a small, plain room. The floor is black marble, inlaid with an elaborate magical circle in silver. That circle is disturbed, though, a scuff mark clearly visible in the perfectly polished gleam.

On the floor within that circle, you see a human corpse. She's lying on her stomach, with her leather armor torn roughly open from the back. It looks like whoever ripped it was hardly gentle; claw marks are visible in her flesh as well, ripping her body open nearly to the spine. As if that wasn't enough, her neck is twisted completely around so that her lifeless eyes stare up at the ceiling. Much of her face is torn off, and her back is crusted with some thick, tarry black substance.

It looks like she might have been pretty, before.
 
Emilia pities the poor girl, but there was nothing she could do for her now. A quick, silent prayer to Shelyn to care for her soul is all she can do as she moves over to the body to step into the circle again, looking for whatever caused this, realizing it was probably still in the room and readying herself for a fight.
 
Seconds tick past into minutes with agonizing slowness as you wait. Eventually, you realize that if there is something here, it's hiding beyond your ability to perceive, and it doesn't seem eager to attack you.

The door swings shut on its own accord, apparently being weighted to close. It doesn't lock, however, and you can leave readily whenever you want.
 
Frowning, Emilia makes for the door. "Just because I can't find you doesn't mean I don't know you're here. I'll be back."

And with that, should nothing stop her, she leaves the body, though it pains her to do so, and makes for the next door. This tower is a nightmare. Mutilated bodies, horrid works of 'art' that are meant to upset rather than inspire...I should've come here sooner.
 
The next door opens on a more mundane (though, considering the nature of this tower, not necessarily less grotesque) room. Almost all of this room is taken up by a large bed, with feather mattresses and several thick pillows. Upholstered in black satin, it looks inviting, but also slightly ominous. Another painting is on the wall over it, this one depicting a nude woman with pure black hair and yellow eyes. One hand is between her legs, but it looks like this is less for modesty's sake than because she's pleasuring herself; blood runs from the corners of her mouth.

As you open the next door, you hear a faint click from within, but far too late to do anything about it. The door pulls out of your grip, tugged along by a spring, as a heavy metal blade swings out from behind it. The weapon slams into your side and cuts easily through the delicate robe, slicing into your flesh just under your breast.

It looks like nothing is behind this door but a tiny stone closet meant to house the trap that just hit you.
 
She winces in pain from the cut, but luckily the blade wasn't any higher up or it would've had far more meat to cleave into. The damage was minimal, but her robes would need some work. At least they weren't threatening to fall off of her, she didn't want to look like the bloodied seductress in the painting, though at least that particular work of art didn't offend her on as deep a level as the others. Pornographic though it was, it only offended her as a woman, not as a devout Shelynite as the unicorn and fiendish orgy did.

Still, there was nothing more to see, and she made a note of finding where the blade came from and using her blade to destroy the mechanism lest it reset itself when she stopped looking. Even if the trap wasn't self resetting, an unseen servant could easily be lurking about. And with that done, she makes her way to the next door, passing by the one leading up the stairs.
 
The final door opens on a larger room that looks like a strange mix of luxury and squalor. Though well appointed, this room is clearly some sort of dungeon or torture chamber. A wooden rack stands against the wall, next to a cold brazier. A wooden cross on the next wall has a set of finely crafted whips and chains. A number of knives and stranger implements of torture are next to a padded wooden table. A trio of small, cramped cages takes up the last part of the room, two on the ground and one hanging.

That last has another person in it. He looks like he has some elf blood in him, though it's hard to guess how much, and like the last person you saw he's very clearly dead. This time, though, it looks to have been a slower, calmer death. He's unwounded, but absolutely emaciated, his body drawn so thin that you can count his ribs from fifteen feet away. It looks like he ripped his fingers to the bone clawing at the lock on his cage, with no luck.

There's no sign of life in this chamber.
 
The aasimar quickly makes a warding sign and shakes her head, The master of this tower is twisted...if he's still breathing I might have to put him down myself!

But there was nothing to be done here. Her magics weren't suited to healing, and even if they were, bringing back the dead was beyond her. At least, bringing them back properly.

There was nothing more to do here. The only way to go was up.
 
The stairs curl back around, following a slightly smaller course now, the tower narrowing as you ascend.

The next level appears to be a single open room again, though its functions are split. To your left is what looks like a small, sickly garden; the herbs there are twisted things, as many mushrooms as plants, and not a one of them that you'd dream of putting in your mouth. You can recognize them enough to know that almost every single one of them is a poison of some kind, most lethal. Some of the flowers are beautiful, though, delicate violet and crimson blossoms.

To the right is a laboratory of some kind. More circles are drawn on the ground, or sketched on paper that's hung on the wall. Long tables have what look like alchemical laboratories on them, or partially-finished jewelry. One has a thick tome lying open on it.
 
The plants are a curiosity, beautiful though they are, Emilia knows enough not to want to get too close to them. Even though none release poisonous spores, it's still just prudent to not tempt fate. The open book, on the other hand, draws her attention. She already knows the sorts of things the tower's master does, but she can't help but be curious about his research, and so she goes to take a look at it before moving onward.
 
The book appears to be a spellbook of some kind. It will take some time for you to fully process what it might contain, but even at a glance, it clearly doesn't have the same sort of focus as most books of this nature. Rather than arcane writings, many of the pages seem to be filled with lists of names in all manner of strange, arcane languages; you recognize a few in Celestial, Sylvan, and Draconic, but most are illegible to you. Interspersed with these are sketches of elaborate magical diagrams and circles, and a relatively small number of actual spells; the arcane writings are scrawled in a dense, spidery hand.
 
Emilia bites her lip, deciding to come back to the book. There wasn't time to study it here, and her own spellbook always felt like it was dragging her down. Adding another tome to the collection would be exhausting if she still had to fight. And so she heads back into the aisle and toward the stairs.
 
Stepping back out into the aisle, you realize too late that you made a grievous mistake in failing to think that a wizard might leave a surprise for unwelcome guests in his laboratory. As you begin moving towards the stairs, you hear a spine-chilling howl, and the room seems to go black for a heartbeat.

When your vision clears, a trio of coal-black wolves stands in front of you. Their eyes blaze an unearthly red, and thick black slaver runs from their open jaws. You quickly realize that whatever they might look like, these are no natural beasts; the influence of the lower planes hangs heavy on them. You can smell them in the air, a heavy, musky scent, and clearly the statement is mutual. One of them scents the air, and then lolls its tongue out over its teeth; it's too long, and too red, to be natural. The beast must like what it smells, because as it turns to the side, you see a thick, slightly twisted cock twitching slightly between its legs.

Any thought of fleeing, though, fades when you look back and see another three of the beasts there.
 
Raising Serathiel into a defensive posture, Emilia readies herself as the wolves appear. But something is wrong. Her breathing is heavy as the fiendish cocks slide into view, and as revolted as she is it takes more than a second to look away. Telling herself that it must be something in the plants she tries to ignore a tingling sensation, willfully ignorant of its true nature as she takes the first swing at the wolf who'd bared his member to her.
 
You slap the first of the wolves down with a sudden, powerful slash, cutting deep into its back and driving it to the floor. The fiendish creature melts away into a thick black mist as it slaps against the floor, dissipating in moments.

While you're distracted by that one, though, another throws itself at you from behind, attempting to tackle you to the ground. You cut that one out of the air with a single smooth stroke, drawing a satisfied cheer from Serathiel, and for a moment all looks well.

But you can't keep up with the sheer number of the creatures closing on you. Another two move in around you and leap upon you, trying to bear you to the ground. Another nips at you from behind, while the last stands back, guarding the stairs down in case you manage to make a run for it.

For the moment, though, you seem to be safe, albeit surrounded by eager wolves.

The wolves continue throwing themselves at you, but can't quite seem to get close, as you twist adroitly away from each and every bite and pounce. Finally you cut the last one down with a flourish, drawing a cheer from Serathiel. The beasts hardly even looked upset...but then, you suppose they don't have anything permanent at stake, since summoned creatures simply reform on their home plane if killed.
 
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