DDO/Dragon Age: Deathstage

[Tysyacha]

Shakhmaty agreed with Alkonium. "Let's go see if anyone at the nearest city chapel knows anything about the murders--or if the bodies are still there, especially the woman's." She, the soldier, the rogue, and the ranger moved out. As the day wore on, the sun beat down upon all four of them without respite or mercy. The Paladin hoped to conclude their task as soon as possible. She didn't like this. Murder scenes were not only gruesome, but the circumstances of these particular murder scenes made her uneasy. As they made their way toward the nearest chapel, they heard people talking nearby:

 

"Foul business, that was. Left a woman to bleed in our own baptismal font."

 

"That was no mere woman. That was a loose woman. You know that, Myg."

 

"Aye, but what of the way she died? That isn't natural, is it?"

 

"Neither is selling yourself for coin. I'm glad the Chantry priests came to us."

 

"How can you be glad? They had to perform an exorcism, for salvation's sake!"

 

"It's true that she died a bad death, but what can you expect if you're a--"

 

"Hush! It's done. All cleaned up. She's dead and buried. Let's move on."

 

Shakhmaty decided to ask the woman, Myg, a quick question:

 

"Why did the priests from our Church have to perform an exorcism here?"

 

Myg's eyes grew wide. "Don't ye know, milady? She was slain by a cult."

[CommanderQ]

"As proof of the deed, bring me one bone from each of their skulls. It does not have to be from the inside. The outside will do. We use the bones in our rituals, in our holy prayers for the dead."

 

This was not a problem for Krahl, he was, after all a master in the art of massacre, but even he did not like the rituals that the priests of the land did...and the bones they used. Krahl believed in no other power, other then that of the iron fist and the steel blade, he hated anything superstitious.

 

"Fine....I'll...kill, butcher, and extract the bones from these people, so you can have the supplies for this....ritual of yours."

 

Krahl waved his hand dismissively,"Now go...before I change my mind and make an example of you..."

 

Another thing came to the Warlord's mind, "And my men are not Mabari War Hounds...they are the finest, most loyal, soldier the world will ever see, or rather, the last thing the world will ever see. You will help me in this conquest."

 

Krahl turned away as his gaurds escorted the Vicar out.

 

"If you have anyone you answer to, priest, you better tell me. You are far too small and feeble to be leading a crusade...you must have ulterior motives and a higher leader...I know it."

[Tysyacha]

The Vicar frowned. "Small? Feeble? I suggest that you choose your next words a little more carefully. The primary rituals of the Chantry deal with healing and spiritual growth, but there are...darker ones...that center around retribution and vengeance. Those rituals are my assistant's main specialty."

 

He smiled darkly. "I know you're afraid of no one. Therein lies your strength. However, fearlessness has its price. One day, you may overstep your bounds and take too many chances due to your supposed invulnerability. Once that happens, you'll have no one to draw on but yourself, condemned as you will be. It's not a pleasant experience to be hanged, drawn and quartered."

 

Lucien Drathart pursed his lips. Should he answer this question or not? "I do answer to a higher power, and not just in the spiritual realm," he said. "My hierarch is the Archbishop of the Cathedral of the Chantry, but even he does not know about my plans...or my assistant. If he found out about either one, I'd face the quartering, and she would face the torch. That is why it is paramount to keep both secrets secret. Otherwise, you'll answer to me."

 

He closed his eyes. "Morrigan has taught me many things. Don't cross us."

[CommanderQ]

"I know you're afraid of no one. Therein lies your strength. However, fearlessness has its price. One day, you may overstep your bounds and take too many chances due to your supposed invulnerability. Once that happens, you'll have no one to draw on but yourself, condemned as you will be. It's not a pleasant experience to be hanged, drawn and quartered."

 

Krahl motioned for the gaurds to stop.

 

"There is an easy solution for that...I will never be hung, or drawn and quartered. My Death will be an honorable one. I will ensure it."

 

 

 

"I do answer to a higher power, and not just in the spiritual realm," he said. "My hierarch is the Archbishop of the Cathedral of the Chantry, but even he does not know about my plans...or my assistant. If he found out about either one, I'd face the quartering, and she would face the torch. That is why it is paramount to keep both secrets secret. Otherwise, you'll answer to me. Morrigan has taught me many things. Don't cross us."

 

Krahl turned and made eye contact with the priest, "Ah..so it would seem my assumption was incorrect...you are indeed the tactician of your operation. You and your...assistant. I suppose we both understand that we can use this alliance to mutual benefit...but neither of us will will let the other be in complete control...until we can gain complete trust, or at least a sense of reliablity upon eachother, neither of our goals will be completed. So, for that sake...what are your true objectives?"

[Tysyacha]

"Objectives?" the Vicar replied. "I have only one: to bring about the Deathstage. The end of time as we know it, at least according to the prophecies of the Chantry. The criminals and other guilty scum in this realm have gone unpunished for far too long, and I consider it my duty, as the one true prophet in our whole Cathedral, to be its loyal harbinger. The prophecies say that all will die, first the guilty by law and then the guilty by blood. This means that those who have broken our civil laws must be eradicated first. People who have never turned to crime, if they are wise, will repent and turn from all their other peccadilloes. If not, then they, too, will face death." He slowly withdrew a parchment from a satchel that he carried on his belt.

 

"This is our Map of the Evangelion, or at least a copy of it," he explained. "It is tattered and torn for good reason. I was not always a Vicar. As part of my training, I had to venture into the quarters of the city with the most stench and the most crime. I had to preach the word of the Chantry to anyone who would listen. Almost no one did." His caustic smile returned. "Now the tables shall be turned. No one believes that judgment will ever come their way. They cling to false hope, false mystics, and a false sense of security. I want you to go to these areas and...clear out the rats." He paused. "Understood?"

[Alkonium]

Nierra then barged right into the the chapel, and assertively said to the priests, "My associates and I are investigating the murder of a prostitute here. We're going to need detailed reports about any wounds or markings found on the body. If that's not possible, we're going to need to exhume the body from your crypt." Cautiously walking in after her, Alkonium caught virtually all of Nierra's order. "Well, you certainly have a way with people, but that's what I love about you." He quietly said to her.

[Cyborg Ninja]

Zero followed in after Alkonium and Nierra. They worked well together and complemented each other very well. He was glad that they were good friends and not strangers or enemies.

 

"And let's try to keep the gorry details to a minimum. I don't need to go through another round of keep my breakfest down again."

[Tysyacha]

The chaplain of the tiny city church blinked twice. He wasn't expecting any more visitors than his usual congregation, least of all official investigators into the "foul business" that had tormented him and his parishioners these days. However, perhaps he should have expected them. He cleared his throat.

 

"As you have said, good investigators, the body of a 'woman of the town' was found in our baptismal font two day-ago. She had inverted crosses etched into her wrists, and that's how she bled out." Finding that his throat had suddenly gone dry, the chaplain swallowed hard. "Also, on her forehead, there was etched the word harlot in arcane symbology. I'm not saying that the lady was a saint, or even a 'lady' in the true sense of the word, but no one deserves a death such as this. No one deserves to be murdered. We at the chapel suspect the work of cultists, perhaps those of the Deathstage."

 

He stepped backward to allow his visitors access to the baptismal font. "It's clean, and the body has been buried, but search the font if you must."

[Alkonium]

"We suspect that as well, but this woman wasn't the killer's only victim." Nierra responded trying not to put her foot in her mouth again.

 

"It's certainly insight into the killer's motives, but still nothing on how we can track him or her down. Other than wounds, was there anything else, like dirt, or anything that could help us determine where we could find this Blood Mage?" Alkonium inquired. So far, the information only told them how and why, but nothing who, or where they could be found.

[Tysyacha]

"There was something strange that we...we haven't been able to scrub off the walls yet," replied the chaplain. "We've hidden the infernal phrase behind a curtain, so the worshippers here won't see it. Nevertheless, they suspect something's wrong, as the curtain has rarely been drawn before." He stepped forward and pulled back a long, velvet drapery. Shakhmaty gasped, almost stumbling backward at the meaning of the words: Predatelstvo dvazhdi.

 

"Twice betrayed," she said, "or 'two betrayals'. Whoever did this has been double-crossed, or they're trying to double-cross someone else. What's more: I don't believe that the blood is that of the victim, but that of the murderer..." Venturing behind the curtain, she ran a finger down the wall.

 

"The blood is dry, but it was...spattered first. One of the hallmarks of a Blood Mage is that they fuel their powers with their own 'red elixir of life', and if it spews forth from an open wound, for instance, that is one way to channel it so that their magic spell can take effect." She turned to the chaplain. "Tell me. Was there anything else strange about the slaying of this prostitute?"

 

The chaplain shivered. "She was never stabbed, and yet her wrists..."

 

"So that was it." A pause. "Definitely the work of a Blood Mage, then. One who has been betrayed twice, or will betray twice in the course of time."

[Alkonium]

"There is no way someone could lose that much blood and survive without healing magic." Nierra pointed out. "You may be right. I suggest we check apothecaries for any suspicious customers, or recent thefts." Alkonium surmised. Both he and Nierra were more concerned with tracking down the Blood Mage than being absolutely sure it was one.

[Tysyacha]

"I agree, Nierra." Shakhmaty gazed at her new Dark Elven ally with firm confidence. "Blood Mages, as I'm told by my colleagues at the Cathedral, devote their whole lives to their dark art. Not only that, but they usually focus upon that school of magic alone, ignoring other vital areas such as summoning protective spirits from the Fade or shapeshifting. If this sorceress is as powerful as she seems through this display of her abilities, she most likely isn't spending much time bending down over a pot of healing potion."

 

After turning to the chaplain to thank him for his help in their investigation, she, Zero, Alkonium and Nierra ventured to the nearest apothecary. What did "Miracle Worker Mendus", as it read on the rickety sign hanging above his door, know about Blood Mages or anyone shady who'd requested his help?

 

"We get a lot of beggars," he announced once Shakhmaty had started asking questions. "I'm one of the few apothecaries around here who will heal for free. I don't know if any of the practitioners of Blood Magic have been to my shop lately, but in all honesty, they don't exactly announce their presence. As hunted as they are by the Templars of the Chantry, they keep their eyes open and their mouths shut. I'm sorry I can't help you more on that, but..."

 

Miracle Worker Mendus suddenly remembered something. "There was one beggar," he said, "that I thought was trying to get something for nothing. She wasn't old, or weak, and the limp that she walked with was false. Nevertheless, I could tell she was in pain, and so I healed her without cost. If I charge a fee for those beggars I consider suspect, what does that make me? A hypocrite. She never said a word...simply smiled and left after I'd patched her wounds. There was blood all over the front of her cloak."

 

The apothecary shook his head. "Had she been in a fight, or what?"

 

Shakhmaty raised an eyebrow. "What did the beggar woman look like?"

 

"Young. Beautiful. Piercing hazel eyes. Much browned from sun and wind."

 

"Thank you." She gave him one piece of gold for his vital information.

 

"Oh!" Mendus cried. "Investigator--go and pay respects to the wee child."

 

"What child?" Chills crept down her spine. "The one that has been slain?"

 

"Aye. A healthy baby boy, with nary a deformity about him. He had turned-down crosses on his wrists, from which he bled into his christening font. Had some odd symbols etched into his forehead, too. I couldn't decipher them." He gave the gold coin back to Shakhmaty. "Give this in memorial to him. The chapel's down the way, and I suspect the service is just ending. Good day."