A Stitch in Souragne: Symbols of a Fallen Loah

[Rock of the Fraternity]

The zombie maid obediently stands still and silent while Orda bathes, although its dull eyes do stay trained on her. Its face remains impassive throughout the bath, and the creature backs off when told. However, once Orda gives it leave to approach, the zombie wastes no time.

Out of one of the closets, the undead brings forth an impressive makeup-kit. "Please leave the sword by the bed and stand here," it says, indicating the centre of the floor. "I shall require room to... work."

Provided Orda complies, the zombie starts moving around and around her. Over the course of several hours, it gently applies various coloured powders and oils to Orda's skin with small brushes, leaving it looking tanned and lustrous; it combs and styles her hair, leaving it appearing considerably more full and curly than before; one by one, it folds items of clothing around her powerful body, somehow crafting an illusion of elegance.

"Good, good," the maid says, a guttural hint to its voice as it shuffles to the bed, returning with the swordbelt, which it carefully buckles around her waist. "Yes, it suits you, it suits you. Now for the final... touch."

The zombie maid shuffles to the bed one last time and returns with the mask, which it offers up to Orda. There are no visible straps or other means to affix the ivory oval to her head, but still the zombie holds it out to her. "Your party mask, milady."

[steveflam]

A figure comes shuffling out of the gloom.
At first sight, it might be a fellow priest, dressed in a black cassock of simple cut. It bears a necklace made of small bones, animal teeth and claws.

But the years have stolen the undead's flesh. While the creature's clothing is pristine, that which bears them is a fleshless skeleton. A very fleshless skeleton; the bones have been scoured clean and polished.
Incongruously, the undead priest is holding a broom...

Goren holds his breath slightly, startled. Once he exhales, he turns away from the skeleton and walks over to the bathtub. Sighing, he undresses, and sits in the cold bath with eyes closed. He'll scrub himself clean before exiting the bath and drying himself.

Ignoring the skeleton, he walks over to the altar and removing anything he finds offensive from it, begins meditating, praying to Lathander. Though he usually prays in the morning, he is feeling rather out of place here with the undead roaming freely. Whether his deity hears him or not is not important. Just the fact he's prayed to the Morninglord inspires him with confidence.

Still ignoring the skeleton, he walks back to the clothes the Lord of the Dead has chosen for him. He dons them carefully. Once done, he lets his holy symbol lay across his chest. Now he dons his mask. The hour of the repast fast approaches. Though he does not need to
eat or drink, does not mean he will not. He presumes this Misroi will have a feast prepared for them. He walks to the door and opens it, exiting.

[A G Thing]

Having not enjoyed the process in the slightest Orda will take hold of the mask as if highly agitated though she will not set it to her face. Instead she eyes the undead creature coldly and looks at her familial sword then back to the creature as if debating striking the thing down. Still she simply chooses to calm herself once more and then waits for the thing to tell her where to go. She is not comfortable with anything that has happened so far and she remembered the last time she felt this way she had been put at the mercy of some very vile people. But she was watching much more carefully this time.

Looking down at the mask without straps or other fixtures she is tempted to toss the useless thing aside if not crush it in her hand.

[Ail]

Zumba swallows in disgust as he sees the zombies. He looks sadly at the things moving before him, and at the slaves in the plantation. He grips his quarterstaff more tightly, enough to let some of tension he feels go away.

He heeds Lucien's words and nods at them. After Goren, Lucien and Orda leave, he finally says to his maid "Take me to my room, then."

He looks around, nodding to himself. So this is what a plantation house looks like. He never had the chance to see what his former master's looked like. Only those slaves who took care of the young family members, or did the services for the household, were ever allowed inside. And in those occasions that a labourer slave was allowed inside, it was never for a good reason. His bowels turned, as he remembered those hard days. Anxiety gripped him uncalled for, as if he were again to be brought to the pole.

He followed the maid. He tried to ignore her state, but at least, they said in Souragne, the dead could not feel pain... maybe they were happier than living slaves, if they could be anything at all.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Goren

When the red-haired priest kneels to pray before the black - and quite bare - altar, the skeleton leans its broom against the wall and kneels right next to him. Disturbingly, the skeleton mimics Goren's actions, folding its fleshless hands, its jaw working as if to pray. No sound escapes from the skull, however, other than the creaking of animated bone as the skeleton's jaw moves up and down, up and down.

The feeble sunlight filtering down from above grows stronger for a moment; richer, more golden, and Goren has an odd experience. He seems to see the figure of Lathander Morninglord before him, the deity watching him with gentle compassion. But the Morninglord's face is stained with fresh blood...

The vision, if that is what it is, passes quickly enough, leaving nothing but its memory and a vague, unsettled feeling. When Goren moves to leave the chapel, however, the skeleton goes to stand in his way. Fleshless hands dip into its robes and come out holding an amulet, a disc of obsidian on a chain of jet-black beads. Goren does not recognize the symbol carved into the centre of the disc...

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Orda

The zombie smiles lugubriously. "If milady will put her party mask on, she may adjourn to the foot of the stairs. Someone else will guide her from that point on." The undead maid curtsies, her body moving in a stiff, ungainly fashion for the moment. "It has been my pleasure to assist you, milady. You look lovely."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Zumba

The pale-skinned (very pale!) maid guides Zumba down a corridor to the right. The surroundings become more lavish by the moment, and the signs of decay virtually disappear from one step to the other. Finally, the maid stops in front of a door of gilded hardwood, which fairly sparkles in the light of the house's lamps.
"Please enter freely, Master," the zombie says. "Your servants await to see to your every need and desire. You need not hold back or deny yourself anything."

Beyond the door is a lavish apartment, although it is not what Zumba might have expected from a Souragnien manour-house. The skins of powerful predators cover the walls, and the floor is shrouded by palm tree leaves. Hunting weapons hang crossed in front of the skins; spears, bows and arrows, all broken from use but clearly used well. The massive bed is a table of hardwood, standing on four pillars of stone, and piled high with pallets, stuffed with rough wool and palm leaves, and more animal pelts. The room breathes not the decadent luxury of the Souragnien Sieurs, but rather a primitive, primal comfort; the pleasures of a strong, proud hunter and warrior.

There is a massive copper tub standing in the centre of the room, already filled with perfumed water. On the bed lies a suit so white that it almost hurts the eye; a style such as a wealthy plantation owner might wear. A silver-chased cane of ebony and the black shoes also standing ready contrast to starkly with the white that it is almost frightening.

Five young women sit on their knees, awaiting Zumba. Their clothing is simple; white cloth to cover their chests, a loincloth, and a loose stretch of cloth wrapped around their heads to keep their hair under control. Such clothing is very familiar to Zumba from his youth; slave women often wore such attire during the hottest parts of the day. Unlike those women he knew, however, these women - girls, really - have moon-pale skin. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, they are from the families of the Sieurs, the treasured daughters of noble families, coddled and shielded from the sun since birth. Just such girls could order a slave whipped or beaten for spilling their drink or for smelling too much of sweat...

The fivesome bows deeply at Zumba's entry, and one girl scuttles to the wall, where she starts to rhythmically pull on a rope. A large fan on the ceiling starts to ponderously flap up and down, cooling the room from muggy to lukewarm.
"Y - your bath is ready, Master," one of the girls says, a slight stammer of fear in her voice. "We are at - at your full disposal. You need but command. Master."
One of the other girls shivers briefly with dread.
The girls are all sweating slightly.
One of them has goosebumps on her arms and legs, and she has not raised herself from her bow; she is trembling with fear as you watch. You are not sure, but she may be praying; you could swear you heard her murmur the name of Ezra.

They're alive...

[A G Thing]

Listening to the creature talk to her simply makes Orda paranoid though she is not about to try and turn back from her course.

With a lot of doubt about how this mask should stay in place, she looks it over once more as if confused and trying to notice any suspicious details or something that may tell her how it will at least stay in place. If she finds nothing she will with some confusion try to simply place it upon her face.

OCC: Spot check roll to examine the mask.

VIEW CONTENT:

Die roll for Orda spot check.
Rolled on: Sept. 19, 2013, 8:10 a.m.
1d20+5 → [20,5] = (25)

http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4224141/

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Only for Orda:

VIEW CONTENT:

The mask appears to be made of a single piece of ivory, pristinely white. It is carved in the shape of a woman's face -- a beautiful woman's face. There is a clear smile on its lips, but a hint of pain about the eyes. If Orda had not been looking so closely, she might have missed that hint of pain and terror, but it is there. There is nothing on the inside of the mask to indicate the presence of any kind of adhesive...

... until Orda actually puts the thing on.
A stab of agony sears through her face, then through her whole head, as the mask grows first white-hot, then cold as ice, before returning to normal. As the mighty Caliban claws at her cheeks to tear the wretched thing off -- she finds her fingernails raking at flesh. Her own flesh, if the stab of pain is anything to go by.
A shocked look in the large mirror the zombie had been using to help with Orda's beautification shows -- it shows a stranger. A petite, elegant woman of exquisite beauty, dressed in Orda's clothes, wearing the same swordbelt and borrowed sword she was. It takes a moment - and the sight of the scratches on the strange woman's cheeks - for Orda to realize that this is her. It is her own reflection!

"You look lovely, milady," the zombie says, bowing. "I shall take my leave. Please go to the foot of the stairs and wait. All shall be made clear shortly."

[A G Thing]

FOR ROCK ONLY!

VIEW CONTENT:

Orda looks in the mirror stunned at what this magic seems to have done to her. She stares at this and yet without realizing it she is somewhat crying. But they are tears of frightened rage.

Something inside her snaps lose, and she feels unfamiliar teeth clench down in anger greater than she had felt before.

Though her eyes are wide she does not truly register her next moves as the hatred and fear take hold.

Going to her greatsword as fast as she can she moves quickly to viciously turn and cut down the creature that did this to her. Screaming with rage as loudly as she can the words are in rough Voros and they seem wild with fear as much as pure fury.

"I WILL END YOU MONSTER... RRRGGGGHHHHHAAAAAA!!!"

OOC: Orda flies into a rage and then proceeds to try and cut down the maid. Should the maid retreat she follows single minded in her effort to destroy the undead. Honestly to her this is quite horrifying and an insult that she would be hard pressed to forgive. She has a lot invested in her sense of self and this change is just too startling for her to accept in these stressful conditions. I leave it to you what actually happens or if something makes this turn out different but this is what she would do. I will just wait till your next post to see what you decide oh mighty DM!

Die roll for Orda initiative.
Rolled on: Sept. 19, 2013, 9 a.m.
1d20+2 → [17,2] = (19)
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4224164/

Die roll for Orda attack roll.
Rolled on: Sept. 19, 2013, 9:07 a.m.
1d20+14 → [2,14] = (16)
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4224167/
Note that the attack roll will be higher by +2 if I am charging.

Die roll for Orda Damage if hit.
Rolled on: Sept. 19, 2013, 9:09 a.m.
2d6+10 → [6,4,10] = (20)
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4224168/
Note that damage is actually one point higher due to strength increase with a two handed weapon.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

For Orda only

VIEW CONTENT:

Orda's blow cuts the zombie in half. The pieces flop to the floor, and a distressing stench of decay fills the beautiful room as her rotting insides come spilling out. For a moment, the zombie maid continues to stare up at Orda, her expression deadpan, unmoved.

Then the corners of the undead's mouth curl up, and the thing starts to chuckle. It is a soulless, chilling sound that fades away as the stiffness of true death seizes the corpse. "I take my leave now," the thing whispers, and then it is simply... dead.

Orda stands alone in the beautiful room. The stench of rot contends with the fresh smell of flowers and citrus fruit, making her stomach heave, and her appearance has not changed back.

[A G Thing]

For Rock only!

VIEW CONTENT:

Grabbing her bag and violently rushing out the door Orda strides through the house with her weapon before her. She is running on the rush of fear and adrenalin and yet she seems to be somewhat panicked as she blindly moves through the decaying manor. She is sickened and slowly feels the fatigue of her rage ebbing away though her fear is still present. She tries as best she can to hold onto the anger though her focus on what has happened now makes her question if she should.

Feeling the fatigue of it all she tries to get her barrings and tiredly she finds her way back toward the stairs.

Disoriented and barely noticing anything else she leans on a nearby wall as her mind tries to steady itself. She does not even notice her sword is now almost her height as she rests its point on the floor trying to catch her breath.

[Ail]

As Zumba steps into the room, he stops for a moment in surprise... and the moment is extended until he notices all the details. First the whole scenery of the room, which appeals to his bare physicality and pristine, true personality. Then, the girls on the floor... and then, to his surprise, their liveliness.

He approaches them and looks at them inquisitevely, but silent, and he touches the most frightened one gently, with just a finger on her chin. He then approaches the bed and sees the white clothes. He looks away with a smirk, feeling the full irony.

He resists in his thoughts to the play someone is laying on him: I will not play a mockery of myself. I am not a slave in a carnival pretending to be the lord .

With a simple gesture of his hand, he tells the girl waving the fan to stop doing that. Then he strips completely and enters the bath calmly, as if no one were watching. He scrubs himself alone, comes out and ignoring the clothes on the bed, takes one of the best looking furs in the walls and wraps himself in it, in the manner of his ancestors.

Then he approaches the girls and says

"Why do you fear? Why do you look at me trembling? Do you fear my race? What have you been told about us?"

And turning especially to the girl who seemed to be praying...

"Why were you praying? Do you think my heart is filled with hate to you, only because of the colours of our skins? ... or of my past? How long have you been in this house?

[steveflam]

Goren

When the red-haired priest kneels to pray before the black - and quite bare - altar, the skeleton leans its broom against the wall and kneels right next to him. Disturbingly, the skeleton mimics Goren's actions, folding its fleshless hands, its jaw working as if to pray. No sound escapes from the skull, however, other than the creaking of animated bone as the skeleton's jaw moves up and down, up and down.

The feeble sunlight filtering down from above grows stronger for a moment; richer, more golden, and Goren has an odd experience. He seems to see the figure of Lathander Morninglord before him, the deity watching him with gentle compassion. But the Morninglord's face is stained with fresh blood...

The vision, if that is what it is, passes quickly enough, leaving nothing but its memory and a vague, unsettled feeling. When Goren moves to leave the chapel, however, the skeleton goes to stand in his way. Fleshless hands dip into its robes and come out holding an amulet, a disc of obsidian on a chain of jet-black beads. Goren does not recognize the symbol carved into the centre of the disc...

Goren does his best to ignore the skeleton as he prays. These have got to be the strangest zombies and skeletons he has ever met
before. This Souragne is a very strange land indeed. The skeleton stopping him surprises him at first. Although he doesn't know
anything about the amulet, he can only presume that it is that of some deity, probably an evil one. Holding his hand out, he takes the
amulet from the skeleton and inspects it closer, trying to get some kind of feeling about it.

"Merci" he tells the skeleton as he tries to exit, now that he has taken the amulet. He holds it in his hand, not having put it around his neck.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Zumba

The girl who was praying stiffens when Zumba touches her -- and then relaxes all in one go, slumping onto the floor. It looks very much as if she has fainted.

The first young woman Zumba addressed squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, then manages to scrape some courage together from the bedrock of her soul. "We - we were told you are - were! - that you were once a slave, Master. A long time ago. We - were told... we were told you would... desire... redress. Redress for the thi - the ba - the evil things that were done to you by... by the Sieurs. Master. We were..."

The girl closes her eyes again, as if she can not bear to look at you, or can not bear to look at the rest of the world. Tears start to trickle out from under her eyelids. "We were told to... to make ourselves available to - to relieve your anger for your hurts. All your hurts. That is why - why they let us live after they took us. They said that if we did whatever you wanted, took in all your hurt, we would... live. They told us that when they took us... I think it was four nights ago. They came out of the swamp, the dead ones, and took us from our homes, brought us here. They said they would let us live if we did whatever you wanted, suffered whatever pain you still carry! They..."

The girl starts to shudder and her face turns a ghastly, pale colour. She lowers her head to the carpet, bowing before you. Her voice is hoarse, fearful. "I was... I was to tell you... The family who... owned you... we are all... all related to... them. Th - th - the Lord Baron Misroi, said through his tools that... that we are his g - g - gift to you, to b - balance all your su - su -suffering. He says... said... Bonne chance et bonne nuit, mon frêre."

OOC: You arrived back in Souragne roughly four nights ago... As for the greeting the Baron gave you, it is the kind of cavalier thing one rake might say to another when going to their room with a young woman he fancied...