H130, Day 234, 4 AP (Hadrian)

[exile]

While Hadrian could not recall for certain what rituals were required to cleanse the vargouille's taint, the knowledge at least that the transformation was halted in the presence of daylight, be it natural or arcane, was a small blessing. The aasimar turned his gaze skyward, and frowned. They had perhaps a few hours until dusk descended on the cage, and his art might sustain them part of the way into the night but certainly not to morning's light.

"I don't suppose any of you cutters have been fastidious in paying temple dues, no? We need the services of a cleric of a beneficent power to undo this damage. Perhaps I could call upon a favor at the Gatehouse, but I'm not certain."

(OOC: What temples does Hadrian know of in the Hive? Is he familiar with any Bleaker priests at the gatehouse of sufficient ability? I don't know if it was ever stated, but do Clay, Lycenia or Burgess wear faction signs?)

[Stix]

(Most of the city's temples are in The Lady's Ward; religious life in the Hive Ward is more a relationship of convenience, with most of the clergymen doing their best to extort the disenfranchised -- but a Kn:Local check might get you something reputable and closer by. Hadrian does know a small handful of Bleaker priests, but many of them are patients in the Mad Bleaker Wing, and he has little knowledge of any of their abilities. A brand on Lycenia's belt pouch shows the insignia of the Free League.)

"What... what damage?" Clay asks with a guarded tone, looking to Lycenia with concern.

[exile]

Hadrian had no use for minced words or half truths, the afflicted, if indeed that was what they were, deserved to know the dark of what had befallen them.

"The vargouille is a most unnatural creature. It reproduces by infecting mortals with its kiss. Victims will enact a diabolically rapid transformation, adopting the parasite's traits as the hours progress until the head at last breaks free of its withered body and another vargouille is unleashed on the planes."

Recognizing the mounting distress in his audience, Hadrian hastens to reassure them, for all was not yet lost.

"The good news is that the transformation is halted by daylight, and even after night has fallen I can stave it off with my Art for a time. And I'm not even certain you've been affected. Regrettably however, I'm not powerful enough to undo the curse. We need to seek the help of higher magics, even if it is only to find out that you've managed to shrug off the effects of the kiss without aid."

"Do you have friends in the Free League that can help?" Hadrian addresses this last at Lycenia.

Kn. Local (Some reputable place close by...):
[dice=20+4][rand=15633637621337315998242669680981733034228011192519241347470862672]

[Stix]

May 9, 2008 21:39:27 GMT -5 exile said:

"Do you have friends in the Free League that can help?" Hadrian addresses this last at Lycenia.

"Some in Tradegate, maybe," she says with a frown. "But I'm the only spellslinger I know in the Cage, present company aside. How long do you think we have?"

[exile]

“If the kiss has taken hold? Hard to say for certain, cutter. I’d wager on a day or so without light, indefinitely if you can stay ahead of the dark. We’ll know in a few hours either way, I should think. But listen, cutters, we need to be moving. I’ve a few acquaintances at the Gatehouse that serve the Powers, but I couldn’t begin to say whether this is within their abilities to treat. How quickly can we get to Tradegate? It might be our best bet.”

[Stix]

Lycenia chews her lower lip idly, looking up to the after-peak glow and the silhouette of the city's curve behind the haze in the sky. "I can also buy a little more time with some spellslinging, but powers only know how long it'll take to find a current gate and key to that burg. We're probably better off finding someone to garnish here in town."

Next to Lycenia, Clay has fixed Hadrian with a hard, accusatory stare. Opposite the both of them, Burgess worriedly plucks hair from his scalp, one strand at a time, whispering under his breath.

[exile]

Hadrian nods in agreement. “I suppose that is the wisest course then. Though it shames me to admit it, I suspect that any entreaties made within the Gatehouse would fall upon ears already too consumed by the whispers of inner demons to do us much good. We don’t have the time to spare on fruitless negotiations. I suggest that we make for the Lady’s Ward with all haste; I am told that the sun never sets in the Temple of Apollo.”

Placing a comforting hand on Burgess’ shoulder, Hadrian steers the gibbering man back towards the relative safety of the Hive proper.

[Stix]

Dumb Luck rolls

[dice=20][dice=20][dice=20][rand=22280625186353764694942143752078613693319173484026400084804518824]

[Stix]

While picking through the Slags toward the nearest safe ground, Hadrian and crew come across a funnel-shaped indentation in the wreckage, where it appears that an area has collapsed into a flooded section of catacombs beneath.

Within a stalagmite of garbage and rubble jutting out of the water, something is stirring and splashing....

(Hadrian's still in his manic phase, of course, so whatever his reaction, make it grandiose. )

[exile]

“Look, cutters!” Hadrian calls out as he spies the thrashing in the midst of the fetid pool. Suddenly convinced that the noise could come from no other source than one of his erstwhile comrades now terrified and near drowned, the aasimar throws all caution to the wind and charges down to the water’s edge.

“I’m coming!” he cries, voice hoarse with his distress. “Hold on, cutter, I’m coming!”

Spot Check:
[dice=20+4][rand=266321118006562429754547459892683152343745094563227863095303664431]

[Stix]

As he nears, Hadrian can make out a slender hand struggling in vain to find a secure hold.

"Be careful!" Lycenia warns. "Who knows what's down there?"

(DC 15 Balance, please)

[exile]

Lycenia's warning and admonishment sailed unheard over Hadrian’s head as he scrambled down the debris laden slope, heedless of his own rising peril. All he could see was that hand grasping for life and the only sound was his own racing heart.

Balance (god I hate dex checks):
[dice=20+1]

(Oooo, so close )[rand=5429094578995681692735419626108160615967570678269596389271130071]

[Stix]

A fearsome rumble sounds as Hadrian makes his way toward the sinkhole. Shifting "earth" and debris begin to give way under his feet, and he quickly finds himself tumbling and sliding toward the hole at an alarming rate.

Damage
[dice=6]
(-1 from DR)[rand=09358036446570839072641869859254033851652979944444311619089272663152]

[Stix]

The Bleaker suffers minor but painful cuts, abrasions, and contusions before he is dropped unceremoniously into the water. The wreckage that already fills the hole allows him to regain his footing and keep his head above the surface, but the rest of the fallen detritus has mired him to mid-thigh.

Just within arm's reach, the struggling hand begins to lose its fervor as its owner starts to succumb to unconsciousness....

[exile]

(OOC: Assuming the hand doesn’t look like an ooze mephite’s claw trying to drag Hadrian into a portal…)

Anchoring himself with one hand firmly latching onto something solid, the battered aasimar reaches out to clasp the struggling hand before it is lost to the murky waters. With a desperate heave, he tries to bring the person’s body into sight.

“Lycenia! Clay! I need help down here!”

Raw Strength Check (if needed, I'm assuming my Enlarge spell has worn off by now):
[dice=20][rand=900651289479129489369568731063260523046283804465833196070058955457]

[Stix]

Summoning his strength, Hadrian takes the hand in his and gives a pull, freeing a choking and sputtering githzerai from the mire. The sloshing water and his barking cough ring in the Bleaker's ears, drowning out any other noise.

Above, Lycenia tosses a knotted rope to the pair as she waves the others over, preparing to pull them up.

(The gith will definitely need the water pushed out of his lungs before he can regain his breath. With a timely DC 18 Heal check, Hadrian will be able to save him.)

[exile]

“Easy, cutter,” Hadrian mutters, as he hauls the githzerai up onto solid ground. Laying the poor sod out flat, the aasimar does his best to tend to his latest ward under their currently less than hospitable circumstances. Rushing through a series of chest compressions, Hadrian kneels in low to listen for sounds of breathing while simultaneously feeling for a pulse.

(OOC: Does it have to be Heal or will a knowledge medicine check work instead? )

Heal (Assumes 2 point synergy from Kn. Medicine at least) against DC 18
[dice=20+5]

[rand=6673316755375489291432896949303853105210187531349166625297259212]

[Stix]

(Knowledge checks are only useful for knowing things, not for executing them. Kn/Medicine does provide a +2 synergy bonus to Heal, however.)

After a struggle up the ruined slope and some emergency first aid, Hadrian forces enough water out of the gith's lungs to save his life. The hapless sod rolls to his hands and knees, coughing and sputtering for a few minutes, waving off any further attempt at aid.

Finally, he rolls onto his back again, squinting up to Hadrian and his entourage. "Damn it," the gith curses weakly, covering his eyes with one hand (which bears a signet ring with the insignia of the Fated). "The last thing I need is another debt...."

"No need to thank us," Lycenia quips. "Hadrian only saved your life."

"Better death than a life owed." Clearing his throat and coughing a bit more, the Taker slowly regains his footing. He stands five and a half feet -- short, for a githzerai -- and has the wiry build typical of his race, long gray-black hair held in a topknot, and dichromatic orange and gold eyes. Two sheathed short swords hang on his left hip from a broad sword-belt. His every piece of clothing -- braies, boots, tunic, and cloak -- are black as a windswept Pandemonium night, and the pack he sloughs onto the ground is a dull gray, as if by the Waste itself.

He stares at Hadrian, unable to help but show a slight scowl as he wrings out his clothing and waits to hear what the Bleaker has to say.

[exile]

Falling back onto his knees as the Gith waves him away, Hadrian watches the remainder of the man’s recovery with a look of worry. As the man regains his breath enough to speak however, the aasimar’s concern melts away into astonishment. And people said the Bleakers were barmy…

As he rose to his feet with a wince, the aasimar was acutely aware of every scrape and every bruise he had endured in his headlong rush down the jagged slope. Fixing the unlikely sod with a considering look, Hadrian couldn’t help but ask the obvious.

“What’s your name, cutter? And what in the blazes are you doing out here?”

[Stix]

"Ach'ler. I was returning from Yeoman -- this end of the portal grounded on that slope," he says, pointing back to the hole. "I slid in, but when I tried to climb back out, things started to collapse, so I found myself underwater being buried underneath what passes for a landslide.

"Owing my life to you is intolerable. Tell me how to settle this debt." The severity and sense of urgency in the gith's voice are unmistakable.