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The Master and the Minion - IC Thread

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S.K. Ren:
  Ma'kirr couldn't help but sigh. "Aww, I wanted to do that..."
  With nothing better to do, Ma'kirr picked up her keg and headed for the barracks. Finding an empty room, she began preparations for testing her spoils. Despite being a small tavern, the cellar had an amazingly wide selection. The keg, or rather the cask -for it was far too small to truly be a keg- was made of what smelled to be birch and sealed by wax not only on the lid but on the sides as well providing an exceptionally airtight seal.
  Drawing out a spigot and mug she swiped on her way out of the Tavern, she poured herself a small cup. Immediately she could smell the alcohol, much too strong to drink pure. Whatever this was, it would be sure to pickle whoever drank it. Excellent... Ma'kirr mused, giving it a small sip. Immediately she spit it out. It definitely needed some dilution for it to be enjoyable. That one sip was akin to drinking fire.

Tavana:
Saliak simply grunted at the Paladin's attempt. There was nothing to be said. Seeing Aden's display, the dragonborn made his way to the barracks, scratching a claw along one of the coins he had acquired from the houses. Upon entering the barracks, Saliak took the bunk closest to the door, and dropped the treasure into a pouch which he stored near the bed.

After stowing the majority of his armor and weaponry, Saliak turned to Aden. "I might see if any of the Overlord's servants need help with the paladin's remains. They might have some useful information as well." He casually flicked the coin he had been playing with earlier at the human as he left.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)One side of the coin has the word "SOON" scratched into it, and the other "TOO".

Madtrixr:
"Sounds like a good idea. I wish you luck." Aden called out after the dragonborn. Looking at the coin, he wasn't entirely sure to what the dragon was referring to, but he guessed it was his tasteless effort to kiss up at the expense of the paladin. He felt bad about it, but to be perfectly honest, he actually wasn't exactly a big fan of Tristan's manner during the mission. That part was true. He WAS going to look past it and try to get along with the paladin, tell him to lighten up, and somehow do what needed to be done, even if it was unsavory.

But, that was sort of a moot point now. Despite that, Aden resolved to no longer make jokes or "gain favor" with the Overlord with a comrades death...except Ryaltar, but only if he thought of a good one. He figured the Drow might like that, but he wasn't entirely sure just yet. He wonders how Tristan will act when he "comes back." He also resolves to talk to Saliak and apologize for his behavior.

Tristan might've been annoying, but no-one deserved the fate that would befall him...
Maybe he should go help with something. Or maybe he should take a rest.

Aden unloaded his loot, decided on the latter, and hit the sack for a rest.

Xander Morhaime:
The barracks were rather bare, their previous owners having met a grisly end at the hands of a certain adventuring party, and most of the contents no doubt repurposed for other needs. Still, they would do for resting, for now.

Some hours later, you were called back to the throne room. The Overlord was there, along with another armored figure. This one was a good deal shorter than the overlord, the armour he wore a touch less ornate, though still of high quality. The helmet was partially open, but somehow didn't show any of the face behind it, just a black void and two points of white light. The sword and shield, though, looked all too familiar...

"Ah, you're here. Good," the Overlord said, turning away from the small pool he'd been studying at the far end of the throne room. "I'm sure you'll be glad to know Tristan is back with you again," he chuckled, then knocked on the smaller armoured figure's helmet. "This time he should prove a bit more obedient. Now, come here and gather around, that I might instruct you about your next mission."

As you approached, the surface of the pool rippled, changing from a reflection of the vaulted ceiling to a view of a city, ringed by mighty walls, located on a rocky hill in the middle of a swamp. Despite the city's size, it seemed rather quiet, and there were some signs of war damage on the houses and the walls. An impressive castle stood at the very top of the hill, overlooking the rest of the city.

"Heaven's Peak. Once a great spiritual site, plague, siege, looting, war, more plague, more siege, war, and looting, and repeat outbreaks of the first plague have somewhat lessened its glory of late. However, with all the cases of Walking Death, the local priests from the Silent Order have got quite adept at making sure that dead people don't randomly start shambling around in search of brains. The city has yet to recover, but its catacombs are booming, and that is our point of interest here. After your escapades before you came to my service, I find myself in need of a fresh army, so why not go with the classic approach and raise an undead one? However, the Mumblers aren't going to make the task easy."

The surface rippled again, the view changing to an ornately carved stone portal, watched over by several grim-looking knights.

"The Silent Order watch over the catacombs and maintain powerful wards to prevent fresh arrivals from showing symptoms of the Walking Death. As a result they also block any attempts at other methods of raising the dead. Now, I've already secured the force to animate the remains, your task will be to secure the remains themselves. Enter the catacombs however you wish, I'm sure there's several gates. Locate the heart of the necropolis and destroy or disrupt the wards there through whatever means occur to you. Any outlying wards you render useless will be to your credit. Feel free to deal with the Mumblers however you see fit. However, I advise not taking anything from the dead interred in the crypts. Once they're up and about again, they may seek to recover what was taken."

The Overlord stepped back from the edge of the pool, clapping his hands once. "I feel you're competent enough agents that I can entrust you with a minor blessing, one that will allow you to reap the life force of those you slay," he said. A group of minions showed up, each with an odd left-hand gauntlet with an amber stone ornately set into the outer part. They quickly helped you fit these gauntlets to your hands and over any already worn gloves. "This life force can then be used to improve your equipment, or forge better arms for future campaigns. I will keep a tally of what you bring back."

A few moments after the gauntlets were fitted, you felt a brief, dull burning sensation just behind your eyes. A momentary feeling, but it left your vision enhanced - you could percieve the auras around the living creatures present, to better tell how much life force and of what alignment could be reaped from a given victim. Most of the minions present, being of the brown variety, had a faint yellow glow around them. The Overlord... well, you quickly learned not to look his way without suppressing the ability.

"Any questions?" the Overlord asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)The gauntlets you have all received do not provide any actual bonuses beyond the already mentioned enhanced vision, and are not considered to take up an equipment slot.

S.K. Ren:
"No, not really" Ma'kirr grumbled. The previous set of gloves she had modified for comfort, these... things were bulky and annoying. Hopefully there were other models she could change into when they returned.

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