2: Intermezzo

[vladtaltos]

Storm clouds have followed you for two days. Black and fat with rain and lightning they wait overhead like a tiger in tall grass for the perfect moment to unloose their hell. The portents are present.

You’ve tracked the ghost of Paolo Ruminoff to the fringe of Ciminian Forest where it has possessed the body of a fox. Sly and cunning, the fox peers at you from the edge of the wood, the sinister gleam of a malevolent intelligence in its eyes, and speaks in a silky baritone:

"Why do you follow me? To end my non-life? How redundant. Leave me to haunt these woods. I bother you not. My misery is to wander this place forever, an eternity of unimaginable boredom. Surely, such a fate is worse than being destroyed. Isn’t this what I deserve?" 



In life, Paolo Ruminoff was a murderer of the worst sort, a killer of children. The magics that avenged his victims, paid for by their parents, did the job. But something went slightly awry. His physical body destroyed, his spirit remained on this plane, moving from one person to the next until expelled completely from inhabiting humankind by exorcists of the Church. Host-less, his spirit fled to the hinterland where he could roam, and possess the animals of the wild.

This is an unusual contract, to kill someone who is all ready dead. "Not to worry, Dahlia, it’s within your skill set," Scarpetti told you. Really? Your skill set? The Azzuri underboss made it sound like tracking and killing a ghost was akin to writing and filing reports in a magistrate’s office.

You’ve had to look for signs, and talk to people. Many people. The stories farmers told you--their livestock dying without reason, barns and homesteads inexplicably bursting into flames--all pointed to the trail of an angry, unsettled spirit. The path led directly to this forest, a sensible place. Here, animals would be plentiful, and human visitors scarce. The depravations of a poltergeist would go unnoticed and unchecked.

Dog stands next to you, as steady and solid as the rocks in the stream you crossed yesterday. It was at that stream, in that cleft in the countryside, you became aware of someone following you. Dressed in gray, astride a horse, faced covered, the rider skirted amidst the trees along the high hills as silent as a caress. Seconds later, gone, vanishing within the trees. You haven’t seen the rider since.

Now, your attention is drawn to your quarry, a fox possessed by the spirit of a notorious killer that the populace of Florence demands to be banished to the hell that spawned him.


His mange healed, Dog stands as steady as a rock

[julie]

Dahlia’s first thought was to nock one of her silver arrows and fire it at Ruminoff as quickly as her speed would allow. Perhaps there was the possibility to complete this mission here and now, in as little time as possible. But given the fox’s small size, and its own quickness, she thought it unlikely.

"Strange as it may sound there’s a certain code I follow when it comes to my work. Once I’ve accepted a contract, I take it seriously. I see it through to the end. The mark perishes, or I perish. So, you see it doesn’t matter to me if justice is served by your destruction or not, or if even this is your proper punishment. This is a business trip, and I’m all business.”

She plucked one of the silver arrows from its sheath and nocked it. "I’ve done a lot of things in my life that I’m not exactly proud of, Mr. Ruminoff, but destroying you won’t be one of them. In fact, I think I rather look forward to it."

In the back of her mind was the Man-in-Gray. Was he here? Would he intervene?  

[vladtaltos]

The fox’s ears twitch, then perk-up. His eyes are curious. "Contract, you say? A code? So, you are an assassin? Well, I’m flattered a professional has been sent to handle my delicate situation." He glances at your companion, then back at you. "I’m sure you will prove to be a dogged opponent."

Dog begins to growl and then bark at the fox. You settle him with a wave of your hand.

"Seeing how you’ve nocked that impressive arrow, I will not linger. But be careful, Lady Assassin. These woods hold many mysteries. Talking ghosts are but one of them. Catch me if you can."

He turns and darts into the woods, losing himself in the dense trees and underbrush after a few short bounds.

[julie]

Dahlia watches the fox scurry off into the woods. She returns the arrow to its sheath, and removes the C vial from her belt. This was it. She called Dog over and knelt beside him. "This is where we become guinea pigs for a magic student’s final exam. We’ll start with his latest and greatest concoction."

She pulls away the cork and drinks half the contents of the bottle. She then coats a few tasty doggy treats in what’s left and talks, coaxes Dog into eating it, along with the remaining half of the brew.

09:47, Today: Black Dahlia rolled 1d6 with rolls of 6.

She then waited for something to happen. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to this. If the connection was made, she would instruct Dog to begin tracking the fox...

[vladtaltos]

The mediciney-alcohol odor of liniment assails you when you pull the cork free of the vial. The taste is bitter, and after giving Dog morsels coated with the liquid your head begins to spin and feel heavy. Damn that Andreas. What’s in this stuff? Cramps knot your stomach. You feel as though you’ll vomit, but the drunken-sick feeling passes after about a minute. Dog seems unaffected, but it takes some coaxing before he finally eats the food marinated in the foul mix.

The magic within the potion serves as a bond and as the seconds pass, the thoughts of Dog begin to form in your mind. At first, there’s no focus on any one thing. His thoughts are everywhere, random, each tiny stimulus serves as a distraction. Then through the dual magic of the formula, his thoughts become words you understand.

Overwhelming scents. So much to sniff, to discover. Furry animals on the ground, climbing the trees. Other creatures flying branch to branch. Chase. Eat. Mark the territory. Let all know I was here.

You communicate your thoughts to him, to follow the small, strange creature that was just sitting on the ground, the thing he was barking at. Nose to the ground, he sniffs the spot the fox sat, then trots off, following a path into the dense trees.

[julie]

Dahlia debated whether to wait seconds, a minute, longer, or to follow after Dog immediately. To test Andreas’ spell, it would be best to wait and discover how long a connection could be sustained, and to know exactly when that connection broke.

For her assignment to liquidate the ghost of Paolo Ruminoff, it wasn’t a good idea to wait at all. Dog could wander into a trap, get attacked, or something worse. She could even be attacked while she waited---this man-in-gray she’d spied following her had her instincts screaming.

She decided to compromise, and wait a short time. She attempted communicating with Dog after thirty seconds...

What do you see? Do you still have the scent of the fox?

[vladtaltos]

The sights, the scents, it all serves as a wondrous new world for Dog, but he does manage to stay focused on the trail of the possessed fox. In his own endearing and amusing way, he describes what he sees. There are pee posts--trees; climbing toys--squirrels; flying toys--birds; and digging places--flower patches.

Then his thoughts suddenly cease. Concentrating, you ask him to "talk" to you. But there’s a long moment of silence before he speaks again.

The scent goes into a dark place. There’s something bad down there. Not just the strange talking creature. They ask me to come. I won’t come. I will stay here. No, I better not stay. I better run.

Strangely, you can sense his anxiety, feel his heart beating quicker. Even though you’re calm, your heart beats faster, matching the pace of Dog’s. A clammy sweat forms on your palms.

All around you is the brightness of day, the brilliant colors of various flowers, birds singing, squirrels playing chase... yet you feel a Terror as cold as a grave.

[julie]

Her head, bowed in concentration to maintain a connection with Dog, quickly rose. Dahlia gazed at the trail ahead, and in a flash of movement withdrew her bow, nocking a silver arrow.

“Leave if there’s danger, but tell me where you go.”

She headed down the path, each stride longer and faster than the next until she was jogging, then in a full run. In times of danger, of the chase, her senses became acute. Her sense of smell, never the best, opened up like one of the many budding flowers around her. She could smell the fragrance of the various wildflowers, the scent of wet grass, the dirt.

Her footsteps carried her to the split, taking the fork that Dog took toward the dark patch in the woods. She raised the bow.

[vladtaltos]

When you come to Dog, you find him standing, staring at the dark path straight ahead. He doesn’t turn to acknowledge you or even budge.



His thoughts enter your mind. I’m running now. Running away. Can’t stay. They call. I run from them. He takes one step forward.

The dark is unnatural. Shadows fall from tree limbs as if they were a tangible substance. They drip onto the ground, forming small puddles. The puddles become holes.

“Come Dahlia. Come.”

Roll 3d6.

[julie]

This isn’t good, Dahlia thought. Dog believes he’s running away, but yet here he stands, in front of me. He’s seeing something, experiencing something that’s not there.

She walked up to him and started speaking to him, stroking his coat. "What is it, boy? What do you see?" She hoped her touch would break the trance he seemed to be in.

She saw the strange shadows drip like oily goo from tree branches and become holes. She heard the distant voice calling her name, beckoning her to come into the dark wood.

11:30, Today: Black Dahlia rolled 10 using 3d6 with rolls of 3, 3, 4.


OOC: I'm buying both items in Cristiano's. 

[vladtaltos]

Your touch and soothing words draw a flicker of Dog’s head, but his attention quickly returns to the dreary path. His thoughts come to you in a confused, jumbled mess. He believes he’s running, but now has been shown that he isn’t. He whines in confusion, panic. The whines are punctuated by loud, snapping barks.

The pull of the voice overcomes you. You find yourself moving forward. No steps do you take, but rather you’re pulled down the path as if by a large magnet. Dog bites one end of your cloak to prevent your movement, but the pull of the voice is so strong that it drags him along with you.

From out of the holes formed by the dripping shadows come small white spiders, thousands of them, comprised entirely of bone. They skitter along the ground toward you and Dog...

[julie]

Dahlia fought to resist the force pulling her into the forest. If this didn’t work...

Obviously, her arrows would do her no good against the small horrors that were now threatening her.

Still, she felt there was some way to get out of the situation she now found herself in. Did the answer rest in Dog? No, he was being dragged along with her toward the unknown peril that waited.

With all her effort, she reached for the flask of Hellfire Juice, opened it, and flung it against the ground as hard as she could.

[vladtaltos]

The same force that pulls you forward also hampers you from complete freedom of movement. Your arms feel stiff, and you fight against this unknown resistance to take hold of the flask.



Make a 3/ST check to break free and throw the flask.

if you pass...

Then Make a 3/DX check to throw it accurately into the midst of the swarm.

[julie]

Dahlia struggled, but wriggled her arms free to grasp the flask within her cloak and throw it will all her force at the ground. Her anger at her predicament, or her impatient desire to destroy the bone spiders, made her throw slightly miss her target.


12:02, Today: Black Dahlia rolled 8 using 3d6 with rolls of 3,4,1 ST check


12:05, Today: Black Dahlia rolled 13 using 3d6 with rolls of 5,3,5 DX check

[vladtaltos]

The explosion is painful to your ears. You feel the heat on your face, feel it through the gloves on your hands. You drop to the ground, only now discovering you had been lifted a few feet in the air. Behind you, Dog releases his hold on you, his painful wails imbedding into your mind.

When you recover, you’re on your back. You look around, seeing countless dead spider carcasses. Their splintered, bony remains cover the immediate terrain.

There are others alive, but the shock and sound of the explosion has them retreating to their shadow realm in the ground. Those that haven’t retreated, wander, disoriented. They no longer pose a threat.

When the smoke and haze of the bomb subsides, you discover you are hurt (-3 ST), and the veil over your immediate surroundings has been lifted.