Bryn Shander's Town Hall
A tiresome affair, for both caster and target alike, and to any outside observers Mallory's incessant psychic prodding was indistinguishable from torture. That the Simulacrum's sweat had been transmuted away from its clothes bore little bearing, for it would soon be permeated again as it twisted its body in agony in tandem with its mind to repel the intrusion. In between each casting, when the Simulacrum was afforded momentary respite, a visage of scorn, of deep contempt, faced Mallory, unmistakable even beneath his blindfold.
Together, they would familiarize themselves exhaustively with the first passages of the Hsao Chronicles. Again and again, it forced itself to repeat the acclaimed scripture until it remembered no more, and then it started over, all in an attempt to fill its mind with useless information so that Mallory was only offered the ephemeral to work with. But painstakingly, piece by piece, the puzzle could be assembled.
The Simulacrum knew the Adventurers. Their faces, their names. But it had not spared them even one thought upon Mallory's first casting. A human who went by Hadden, quite young and stately. He was a warrior from the region, bearing resemblance to the Regheds — if he didn't belong to their numbers he had at the very least spent a considerable amount of time here past the Spine. A Halfling with a chocolate complexion and a big, floofy fro. She was Apple, and was in the employ of Brasn. And lastly, a Dwarf named Firanna donned in heavy armor and wielding a mace of the finest Dwarven craftsmanship. A Tenday and two ago, they had been sent out to scope out the tower for a considerable reward. Three days later, the Simulacrum was constructed and the following day it was sent south.
The Simulacrum knew nothing of the key the Wight had carried. Markham, however, speculated it fit into the weapon's storage by the Eastern Gate, and sent someone who was able to confirm. The coin, on the other hand, the Simulacrum knew of. It was a Soul Coin, the cursed currency of the Nine Hells, and it contained the soul of the Wight as it had been in life. Dzaan had every intention to keep it safe on his person, so the Simulacrum could only presume the Wight had retrieved it after its master had perished.
The real Dzaan's last known location was a mystery to the Simulacrum. No matter how Mallory pried or prodded the information would not surface. Nothing concrete, no visuals, not anything. The Simulacrum had maintained contact with his creator through Messages, but that communication had always been one sided. The Red Wizard guarded his information closely, unwilling to reveal it even to a being that was for all intents and purposes himself.
We could get bogged down with Wisdom Saving Throws and Intelligence Contest, but for the sake of brevity I'd rather just have Mallory succeed on most of her points. This does assume she exhausts all of her available castings of Detect Magic, however.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:10, Mon 11 Apr 2022.