Shiaran shrugs.  "I understand that, Sy, but bad guys are ego maniacs.  I'm hoping to catch Elm or Wych monologuing so we can use that information against him.  If you can't watch, I understand.  I will do the hard thing and gather what information I can.  It's what I do.  I will not be tempted to turn back.  Vengeance will come later."

"Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says Iehovah."  Sypher sounds as if he is quoting something and there is more than a hint of admonishment in his tone.

"Yes, and His vengeance is worked through tools like us.  It's not personal, Sy.  It's right."  She holds up a hand to forestall any more argument.  Sypher takes a deep breath and nods.

Ignoring him anyway, Shiaran holds up the mirror and speaks the activation word.

As the scene unfolds, Sypher's eyes narrow, the only sign of anger he shows.  At the end, he is grateful that the stand-ins were left alive.  He held out hope that they would somehow survive this, but considering what hunted them, it was not a large hope.

Shiaran watched the mirror growing more angry by the second.  This vile thing was responsible for the end of her entire family save her and Sypher.  She watched, storing every word in memory to savor later in order to glean every last drop of advantage over that piece of skubalon.

When the monologue ended she let the mirror image fade as she looked up at Sypher.  "Now it's personal."

Sypher said nothing, but he did give a slight nod.  His acceptance of this empowered her in a way she had not realized possible.  There would be no holding back, making sure she towed some line in Sypher's mind about what was right and wrong.  Shiaran was the last blade of house Whiteraven and she would drive her sword right through his heart...just before Sypher removed his head.  The vision in her head of that death was so clear, she was almost sure it was prophetic, a vision from Iehovah.

Then the cold reality of logic and knowledge crept back in as the study of the undead she had done back in Langdon.  "He's a vampire.  Gotta be.  That's not going to be easy to take down."  It surprised her that they could see him through the mirror after realizing what he was.  Perhaps the no reflection rule didn't apply to scrying spells.  Or perhaps half of what was written in that book was myth.  She would keep the mirror anyway, but cursed inwardly at the potential for him to be resitant to her sword.

When Sypher frowned at the mention of vampire, Shiaran looked at the others.  Only Beloc seemed to not be completely at a loss.  "I read up on a lot of the undead before we left Langdon.  It was a technical manual in the military library so I hope it wasn't too far off.  As we move through the catacombs, I'll fill you in on their strengths - which are a lot - and their weaknesses - which are odd."

The look of disgust on Beloc's face speaks volumes as the scene unfolds before them. Once it was finally over, he just stood there a moment staring at his fists and shaking his head. "Sypher. Shiaran..." He can't quite finish his sentence.

Finally after a brief moment to collect his thoughts, he continues. "He will answer for his actions, that is a promise. We close the fault, then we put Elm in the ground. Permanently."

R.E.B.O.R.T. processes for a moment. "Your assessment has merit. The aversion to light, the preternatural sense of smell, and the various clues in his speech point to something... off. There certainly seems to be something inhuman about him, unfortunately, I was not scanning for anything out of the ordinary when we were last in his presence."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 04:48, Sun 03 June 2018.

"That does indeed explain much. I'm terribly sorry for the losses the fiend has caused you. I can't imagine..". Oro places a hand gently on Sypher's shoulder.

"Thank you."  Sypher seems to grow a bit more distant, thoughtful and removed from the emotions the revelation should have evoked.  The emotions Shiaran is openly displaying.  "Shiaran?  The door?"

Shiaran clenches and unclenches her fist, visibly calming herself.  "It's open."  She moves back to it after securing the mirror and opens it cautiously.

The door opens to reveal a workshop. Stone slabs and piles of wooden planks line the walls, with multiple work benches in the center. Here, caskets both stone and wood are created. A large assortment of wood and stone working tools can be found. Thick layers of saw dust and bits of rock and sand crunch under foot. Over in the corner, a rack with various linens and stuffing can be found. Padding and lining for the insides of final resting places.

Over in the wood working area, a saw hang precariously in the air over a cut board.

In the masonry area a hammer and chisel gleam with a brilliant reflection.

Seeing nothing of interest in the room, Shiaran sends her dancing lights ahead of her to the western door looking for issues along the way.  Her silence before was professionalism as she did her job.  Now, however, there is a thunderstorm about her aura that precludes any joshing with the team.

[Shiaran searches for traps taking 10 + 12 = 22 Perception.
Shiaran moves toward the door leading to hallway to the west of Room 20.]

Sypher follows Shiaran into the room, holding at the door until the next person is ready to enter, ensuring the door does not close behind himself.  Once in the room, he moves in the same path that Shiaran takes.  His focus is on the mission no matter what thoughts of Elm and his family attempt to intrude.  He can deal with that later.

His main concern was for Shiaran.  Sypher had taken to the training at the monastery because of his ability to compartmentalize his feelings, his thoughts, and his actions.  Shiaran was a powder keg waiting to explode.  He hoped she would keep her head and not charge in against a foe too much for her, but he also realized she could well focus that anger and take on tougher foes if she needed to right now.  They would not be left standing.

Sypher saw nothing of interest in the room, at least not to him.  He looked back at his companions, those becoming his friends, and felt grateful that they did not intrude upon the wound freshly opened by the vision in the mirror.  No doubt they would have to converse about the turn of events when time permitted - if it ever did.

The implications of his status, one he didn't truly understand until today, had thrown him off balance inside.  House Whiteraven's genocide was the past, something dealt with as a boy.  House Whiteraven's potential for the throne, the responsibility of it, felt like an enormous burden had suddenly been set on his shoulders and threatened to bring him to his knees.  No longer did he have the freedom that he and Shiaran had enjoyed adventuring after her 18th birthday.  Now...now his duty to Fildegarne was more than just these faults and fighting the PCA.  It extended to the rest of his life.

Sypher frowned.

R.E.B.O.R.T. walks into the room shortly after Sypher. Immediately, his attention is drawn to masonry workbench. He takes a moment to study the implements around the area. "Whoever worked here much have taken great pride in their trade. The tools are of fine craftsmanship and even carry an enchantment or two."

Clearly having no right to their claim, he leaves them where they are.

Beloc enters the room after a few others have filed in, not last, but next to last. His mood is somber, if not brooding. "What, do you suppose, they used this room for?"

"It looks like coffins and such... Hey, everyone. I was thinking. If we're followed, some of us should hang back to hold off any pursuers. At the very least slow them down. We're kind of a big group to be shuffling around down here".

Oro pipes up. "You have a valid point my friend. The Crypts are a maze of twists and turns. Easy to get lost in, and easy to end up in a dog pile. What do you say Sypher? A few of us "non-essentials" hang back and hold down your rear flanks while you four do the heavy lifting? Or perhaps bring one of us along?"

DM Note: At any given time, feel free to direct the NPCs. Leave them all behind to hold down the fort, leave a few and bring one, press on, etc. The choice if yours. Currently you travel with Oro, Gazra, Krem, and Sigurd. Each has their own strengths and merits. Think of them as extensions of the party at your beck and call. Of these four, you have to your knowledge completely earned their loyalty and respect.

Party's choice entirely.

Sypher contemplates the offer for a moment.  "Shiaran told me about this Glut character you faced in the warehouse.  On top of that, if Elm or even Wyrich comes against us, we are going to need all of us together.  Plus, they know this place far better than we do.  It would be easy enough for them to slip around you and come at the four of us before we could close the fault."

He nods and smiles at Oro and the others.  "I appreciate the offer, but I believe that splitting our forces will only lead to lessening our strength."

Gazra shrugs. "You're the boss".

At the door to the hallway, Shiaran doesn't find a trap, but does discover a device attached to the door. It appears to be some sort of pulley system, narrow and tucked away. The pulley cable disappears into the stonework, and it isn't apparent exactly what it does, but any investigation of the surrounding area tells her no immediate threats or traps are activated in the vicinity of the door. It definitely goes somewhere and pulls something, but figuring that out from the current location is impossible.

Anger cooling in the face of an immediate logic problem, Shiaran taps her chin in thought.  She looks around the room and sees the other door to the south.  Without a word, she moves cautiously over to it, still keeping an eye on the floor and surroundings in case someone got creative.  Once at the southern door, she gives it the same treatment as the one before it.

[Shiaran searches for traps taking 10 + 12 = 22 Perception.
Shiaran moves toward the door leading to Room 26.]

Shiaran finds the door to also be locked, but not trapped. Her skill at picking locks makes quick work of the door. Behind it looks to be some sort of storage room. Half is scraps of material from wood to stone to ornate this and thats, while the other is bins of rubbish that haven't been removed in quite some time. There is a foul smell in the air of decay, likely coming from the bins.

Location: Room 26

"I agree with Sypher here, if we split up now then we might not make it back together before we find the fault. If there's ever a time to have someone cover our flank, it'll be when we're taking care of the ritual."

Shiaran scrunches up her nose, but endures the smell.  "Sypher, you sense anything in there we should know about?  Rebort?"

Sypher moves to the doorway as Shiaran steps aside.  He looks within and directs his sixth sense across the interior. "I sense nothing.  Rebort?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:08, Sun 10 June 2018.

"The same faint signatures of undeath as before. I do not detect any further movement from them. They seem distant."

Still attempting to move west, Shiaran cautiously makes her way to the door on the west wall and checks it out.

[Check door for traps and lock to room 25.
Perception 22]
This message was last edited by the player at 01:04, Mon 11 June 2018.