"That works. Will we have to carry them far?"
Help carry the guards off.
Not far, she says. Bring them out and over to the barracks on the other wing. One at a time, deposit them into beds. Then go see the guard commander, turn in the keys. Finally make the rounds and trade the other crap for useful things. A pretty simple routine, really. She'll lead the way.
Together you grab the large guard - rather heavy fellow even with assistance, you find - and carry him up the stairs through some hallways. There's quite a stir on the ground floor, some fellow in gaudy clothes ordering the other servants about or something of that nature - he seems very impressed with your fellow carrier's initiative, and tells her to keep doing that, yes! That's exactly right! She smiles at him and nods, and you imitate her as best as you are able. The fellow seems more doubtful about you, you notice, but lets you pass without hassle.
The next leg of the journey, once you're past another set of drunk guards, is across the other wing - not much of a wing, really, considering it's pretty much just a large set of barracks plus what seems to be an armory. Surprisingly little noise coming from there, you find - plus, almost all of the beds look to be full. Some guards appear to be sleeping on the floor, even. More than thirty appear to be even presently asleep, and five or six more are apparently in the middle of leaving for their shifts while their spots are being taken up by replacements that have just returned from a tiring (or at least horrifically boring) shift guarding the castle.
[Sleeping Quarters: 3]
Fortunately, there is
one free bed. You deposit the large guard into that, and he seems oddly appreciative as he stretches and contently curls up, beginning to snore moments afterward.
The two sisters are a bit easier to carry, which is something of a relief. They are also much easier to shove under a bed because of their smaller size, and though you are a little wary at first, the girl says it's likely going to be perfectly all right. They might get a little irritable when they wake up, but if you've not learned to stay out of the royal guards' way at this point you kind of deserve what you get anyway.
In any case, with their valuables looted and their carcasses deposited in their rightful place, the girl supposes she doesn't really need your help anymore. So, er... thanks! You've been a big help. Whenever she's drawn the short straw in the past she's usually had to resort to using levers and pivots and that kind of business, and really it's kind of a relief to have something happen without serious trouble for once.
She pauses, looking around suspiciously. Hm. Best not to stick around for long. What did you get, anyway? The big guy mostly had garbage and keys. Anything interesting on your end?
"Oh, well, probably yes. Lets. By the way, how do you folks feel about music?"
Go along peacefully, though carefully. It doesn't do well if these paranoid freaks start stabbing me in back.
The knight pats you on the back. There will be no music, he laughs. No music whatsoever. Not presently, not at all. Haha. Yes. He escorts you along the castle island and over to one of the larger tents by the river, a sizable affair seemingly only narrowly missed by some great and terrible cataclysm that has glassed a rather large bit of ground next to it (and, if the remains are anything to go by, quite a few tents).
Inside this tent you find some rather comfortable quarters. A nice divan with a non-matching coffee table, a valuable vase of fresh flowers placed atop it. An incongruous double bed in one corner, the ground on both sides of it littered with a wealth of expensive-looking crap from engraved tablets to embroidered cushions to musical instruments to barrels of wine. Odd-looking mannequins stand here and there, garbed in fine clothing and jewelry. Quite a chaotic treasure trove, you think as the knight urges you to sit down, then goes to dig around in a pile of loot, getting a green, unlabeled bottle out from a particular pile as well as two pewter teacups with lions pictured on them. He pours each of you a cup of wine - his is almost immediately emptied as he pours it down his throat, looking very pleased with himself.
Right then, now that you're in a civilized setting, he says, he understands from your testimony that his second cousin has apparently met with a terrible fate while in captivity. Oh, and the stone. Do give him that, if you will.
"Hm, it sounds like you've got to be prepared for impending disaster if you live around here. Do you know if there's anything in these catacombs that might be useful in fending off an army? An artifact from one of these past conflicts, perhaps."
[Interrupting the Dream: 4]
The voice and images abruptly cease to flow, the queen brought out of the reverie with your remark. The grinding of ancient memory resonates within your skull unpleasantly. Useful? Here in the catacombs? It has been an extraordinarily long time.
[Tokens of the King: 1]
There is... is there? A king, she believes. Kings beyond counting, almost as many in number as she is. This she remembers. The kings would know. Open their resting place, seek their advice. She kept the knowledge, he kept the practical concerns. They should be in there still, kernels of brilliant invention, yes...
"Wait a second."
Grab him by the jaw and turn him to face me - without damaging him, obviously. What's his reaction?
As you grab him by the skull firmly, he looks quite frankly confused, batting weakly with his arms as you keep his jaw shut, his eyes almost fishlike in clueless emptiness as they look through you.
It's weird, you think he
can see you. It's just that he's completely unable to process you beyond being able to try and ineffectually swipe at you with his weak arms. Wonder if he's snapped or this is some other kind of fuckery. There's evidence enough for both hypotheses - for one, you did steal his precious window that he is now completely unable to put back into its former place. On the other hand, it seems markedly unlike him to not at least make a heroic effort at pontificating in your general direction during all the time you've spent together as of late.
Play along. Just observe.
[Miracles of Make-Believe: 2]
You're not really sure what the point of it is. You run back and forth on orders that make decreasing amounts of sense the more you consider them. The servants seem terribly amused about something. Are they humoring the majordomo? Mocking him? Enjoying a spot of exercise in these terrible times? You have no real idea.
Furthermore, the majordomo himself starts to look increasingly exhausted as he instructs the servants, his voice faltering at times as he seems to forget what exactly his goal here is. Is it a feast? A ball? The morning routine? The queen's birthday? The servants seem to not really care, either. There may be some kind of underlying purpose here, you suppose, but you'll be damned if you know what it is. Then again, maybe the lack of purpose
is the purpose, but that's far too philosophical for your liking.
Leif Erikson, Miner
- A Word: INEVITABLE
- Wounds: 3
- The Queen's Guard: A Roaring Good Time
- Reappropriated, Clean Skirt
- 1 gp
- Anglefork Castle: A Free Man
- The Box: ?
- Tower of the Mind: Convenient Relocation
- Induced Inebriation: Comfortably Drunk
- Induced Lucidity: A Concert For The Gods
- The Prison Stone
- Elongated Affairs: Civilized Discussion
- Compatibility: Minding
- Tricks of the Mind: Cormick's Condescending Riddle
- Tricks of the Mind: Perceptual Rebuke
- Tricks of the Mind: Erikson's Inexplicable Grapefruit
- Tricks of the Mind: Speak With The Mob
- Party in the Courtyard: Celebration in Earnest
- Never In: Swallowed By The Pit
- Gods of the Underground: Did You Just What
- Labyrinths of Anglefork: Tunnel-Literate
- The Voracious Dark: Two Deals Made
- The Voracious Dark: The Promised Sixth
- Army of the New State: 455 Suspicious Stoats
Eileen Minett, Vinyl Collector
- Reclaimed Hooded Robe (worn, quite comfortable)
- An Arm And A Blade (blunted, bloodstained)
- A Word: HUNGER
- A Word: CHAOS
- A Weapon: Explosive Cysts
- Rat Pantheon: Disliked
- Traces of Mischief: Mouthful of Blackness
- Traces of Mischief: Loosened Smile
- Origins: Witness to Dissolution
- Tower of the Mind: There's Something To Remember
- The New Queen: And Something To Forget
- The Queen's Guard: Bringer of Doom
- Touch of Flame: the Secrets of Flammability
- Inscribed Brick ('Water')
- The Voracious Dark: Two Connections Given
- Body Count: 1
- Never In: the Obvious Candidates
- Labyrinths of Anglefork: Ark of the Nameless Queen
- Window Into Dream: To The King's Will
- The Impromptu Prophecy: the Sensible Solution
- Sweet Little Children: Kindness
Jack Daniels, Karate Man
- Naked
- A Word: REND
- A Word: SILENCE
- A Weapon: Murder-Thought
- Traces of Mischief: A Bisected Left Kidney
- Traces of Mischief: Ruined Left Hand
- Uncoupled: Strength
- Wooden Door (held)
- The Majordomo: ?
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: the Path Revealed
- Tower of the Mind: Endless Well of Mystery
- Induced Lucidity: A Garden Well-Tended
- Doomstones: ?
- A Place In History: Emergent Abomination
- Anglefork Castle: the Great Serpent
- The Obsolete Class: Suggested Victims
- 2 rats, crushed
- 1 rat, strangled
- 1 rat, live
- Touch of Flame: the Second Degree
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Sunday ± 2 Days
- The Impromptu Prophecy: There's A Mountain Higher Than We Knew
- The Voracious Dark: Three Connections Given
- The Good Doctor: A Recommendation
- Body Count: 2
- Wounds: 1
Thomas Minstep, Insurance Agent
- A Word: ABSENCE
- Anglefork Castle: From Another Time, Another Land
- Gross Incandescence: Partly Illuminated
- Tight Leather Pants (worn, wet)
- Incredibly Tight Blue Dress (worn, mutilated, mildly provocative)
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Saturday, July 24th, 409 S.D.
- The Majordomo: Busy Morning
- The Good Doctor: House Call
- The Queen's Guard: Okayed by the Queen
- The New Queen: Beauty Sleep
- Tower of the Mind: A Friendly Suggestion
- The Obsolete Class: Playing Along
- Body Count: 2
- Army of the New State: 455 Stout Strangers
Oscar Wilde, Chemistry Teacher
- Wounds: 1
- 6 gp
- Poor Misshapen Dice
- Lock of Hair (unidentified)
- Iron nail, unused
- An Inauspicious Key
- Burlap Foot Wrappings (worn)
- Burlap Hand Wrappings (worn)
- Moth-Eaten Hat (worn)
- Respectable Brown Skirt (worn)
- Old Brown Waistcoat (worn)
- Bright Yellow Tunic (worn)
- Blue Shards of a Probable Bottle
- Blue Glass Shiv
- A Wealth of Burlap Ribbons
- An Obsolete Class: Bodies Delivered!
- A Frightening Door: An Understanding
- The Voracious Dark: Backed Away