Post by Delilah Daybreaker on Feb 3, 2022 18:44:52 GMT
Rolled into a palm sized tube is a piece of nondescript parchment around a notice and a second note attached to the first. The nondescript sheet is written in a mix of common, symbols, elvish, and draconic.
ASSIGNMENT REPORT #21
People/Organisations of Note:
Oziah Daybreaker – holy warrior, aasimar (fallen), female; mount: Deimos (skeletal, fiend)
Jaezred Vandree – mage (pact magic, possibly the Moonweaver?), noble, drow, male
Heret Velnnarul – stealth fighter, human, male; businessman/partner/owner of OMTC
Varga – fighter/barbarian, half-orc, female
‘The Benefactor’ – mage, human(?), male,father
Billy – mage or spar velah’rnair, aasimar (fallen), male, brother (deceased?)
Locations:
Fort Ettin – Adventurer's hub
The Planes of Despair – area of the Shadowfell
Obsidian City – south of the Planes of Despair by 40 miles
Body:
Some context for this report is needed. After the slaying of the Fugitive and the Outlaw, things had grown relatively quiet in the Dawnlands and in Fort Ettin. Taking the opportunity to pursue some of my own interests, and making use of the extensive Library in the Fort, a decision to research others who have been known to have abilities and skills such as mine. Initial research showed promising results.
Stories of individuals with the ability to step through Shadows lead to a tale of an ancient assassin who infiltrated castles and killed corrupt nobles in the long ago on another continent of the Prime Material. No confirmation if this individual worked for a thieves guild, but though many such organisations alluded to having the power of shadows, most of them were thieves guilds with too much pride for their own good. There was another about a team of thieves who allied themselves to a shadow demon called Fraz-Urb’luu and then, finally, a vague lead about people who have given themselves over to, or had been trapped within the Shadowfell.
Feeling this was the lead that held the most promise – knowing what Lady Neremorte has done in the past, the Court having long suspected and then having proven through my own Final Test that she does, indeed, practice necromantic magic favoured by those of the Unseelie and liches – the research lead to two points on the proverbial map: Balder’s Gate where the cult gathered, and a city of obsidian within the Shadowfell where the those who have been steeped in shadows could be found, if one knew who to ask and how much it would cost.
Everything is monotone greys and blacks, with a thin whispering wind adding to the unsettling nature of the Shadowfell. Delilah feels rather than sees right away why this place is called the Planes of Despair as her nervousness is wiped away so only a bare trickle of it remains. On the horizon are six towers that rise to sharp points, completely black and eye-catchingly enchanting in a way very opposite to anything of the Feywild.
Vandree and Velnnarul pull the hoods of their elven cloaks up. Delilah leaves her cowl down. Something about these lands, something about this place makes her feel like she doesn’t want to hide who she is, what she is. Little Beastie, carried in the bjorn on her front, has its ears flat, eyes as wide as saucers. She tries to comfort the little creature. They use their little paws to ensure they stay tucked in safe behind the confines of her cloak of starry night. The pale half-elf looks down and notices there seem to be less stars and more of just the black void between the stars with shifting swirls of darker black to match the grey of the landscape they are walking in.
“It’s that way,” she says, pointing. Oziah offers her a hand and without looking Delilah takes it. Sitting behind her love makes the nerves go away faster, as always being close to the stunning beauty does. But Delilah feels ashamed, never has she needed it so much before for the unknown they might find in those spires of dark rock.
Further research was done into the Obsidian City – the name of the actual location – and where it was located, as well as a general description of the layout: six towers of obsidian sticking up through the earth before coming to the huge chasm where the ‘city proper’ can be found, which leads underground. The stories suggested anyone was welcome, even those who would be considered dangerous, provided they do not bring harm. Also the creation of light within the city is forbidden, indicating the inhabitants prefer total darkness.
Once they pass through the obsidian gate, Delilah dismounts from Deimos, but stays close to Oziah. Looking around, the place does not seem like it is inhabited at all. It wasn’t until they passed two of the six obsidian towers that the whispering wind sounded more like whispered conversation. Delilah’s steps slow as she tries to listen. Then, from the corner of her eye, she spots movement. Turning around suddenly to see who or what it might be, she is met with nothing. The others look at her. Velnnarul is also looking around them, as if he can see or hear something or someone.
“Can anyone else hear that? Like whispered conversation?” Delilah asks.
Velnnarul gives a small nod. “I can hear something, but I don’t know what.”
Oziah’s look of concern makes Delilah decide it would be best to not get wrapped up in what may or may not be there. Looking forward, on the path they were on she sees the square base of the tower they were to get to.
“That’s where we need to go,” she says, leading them on.
Which was why when our party arrived at the City and entered the tower we were to meet the Benefactor in, it was surprising to all that there was a lit fireplace casting a dim light. Seems that light is not banned outright, so long as it’s in the towers or above the City proper.
The Benefactor appeared to be a human male in his fifth decade or so of life. He had scars as if he has seen battle but without getting a proper look at his visage (NB: He kept his hood up the entire time.) there was only so much we could discern.
“Please, come in, sit down,” the hooded man gestures to the chairs beside the table. “We can discuss things properly.”
The Pale Daughter approaches on silent steps, her elven boots making no sound where everyone else’s cause a soft ringing with each one taken. Choosing to sit on the very edge of the chair right across from him, Delilah studies the man across from her, trying to get a beat on him. The figure seems entirely neutral, not welcoming but neither is he threatening. It doesn’t quite put her at ease but it certainly makes the bizarreness of the whole situation tickle her curiosity.
Oziah comes to stand right behind her chair. Delilah cannot help but smile inside. Her dark angel, ever watching and waiting to jump into action at a word.
“You are the benefactor, I take it,” Delilah states.
“That is I. I do apologise for the moniker, it is a way of keeping myself… safe,” the Benefactor explains cryptically.
“Why would you need to keep safe?” she asks, curiosity instantly piqued.
“You don’t know what happens when you put your name out into the world. I would hate someone to use it against me. I apologise if it put you off.”
“On the contrary, it makes me more curious.”
There’s a beat of silence as Vandree, Varga, and Velnnarul come in. Hands moving quickly, Delilah undoes the straps of the kitty bjorn and puts Little Beastie on the table. Their hackles rise momentarily before settling as the pale half-elf gives them some calming scritches.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she says in a tone that dares the Benefactor to say he minds very much. He does not, and Delilah feels an unexpected twinge of affinity to this mysterious figure. “So, you said you have a small job for me?”
“Yes. I see you brought companions.” He looks up at Oziah, but gestures for the rest to sit down. “There is an individual who’s taken up residence not far from here who I need you to collect for me.”
“In what state?” Delilah asks, slipping into the familiar role easily.
“They need to be alive. Very alive.”
“How far away is this person from here?”
“About a two hour walk.” The Benefactor gives them directions which their group either commits to memory or trusts the others to recall. “I simply need you to travel there, retrieve this person, and bring them to me.”
“Will they wish to come?” Velnnarul inquires.
There is an almost imperceptible twist to the Benefactor’s lips. “Unlikely.”
Delilah’s eyes narrow. “Why can’t you do this yourself? Why do you need us?”
“The person in question has outsmarted me and found a way to detect my approach,” he says, resting back in his chair a little. “I can’t get anywhere near him without him vanishing off. I require someone to do it for me.”
It was the first time the girl of shadows was asked to bring someone back alive. That in and of itself made her suspicious but as her discerning eyes studied the man across from her Delilah could not read any falsehood to him. The Benefactor's frustration at the person’s ability to escape was genuine. And yet…
“If you don’t mind my asking,” she starts, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at the Benefactor’s eyes, “when we bring him back, what is it you intend to do with him?”
He holds her gaze, unflinching. “I’m afraid there are certain limits on the information I’m willing to part with.”
She wasn’t sure she would admit it, but Delilah was impressed by this man’s tenacity to hold his ground. Clearly the Benefactor was used to dealing with people like her. But then, the place they were in was a haven to all sorts, apparently, even those who would be considered dangerous to society. Was that why she felt a rapport building with this mysterious stranger?
“And in exchange for our doing this thing,” Velnnarul cuts in, “what is it that you are willing to do for my friend here?”
“I’m glad you asked,” the Benefactor says, smiling. He pulls out a piece of aged parchment and sets it down on the table. Little Beastie jumps a little, but then sniffs towards the paper before turning back to Delilah. “This is a map of the Obsidian City. What you see here is just an overflow of the city below. It is vast. Built within the mines and natural caves that lie below here. It’s a labyrinth in which one would become lost forever without a map.”
A question bursts past her lips before Delilah could stop it. “How did you know I was looking into this place?” She had told no one about her research except Oziah and even the Researcher Students from the Academy who helped her, were intimidated enough by Delilah’s presence to not risk talking to her more than they needed to.
“Not many people look for this place so I listen out for when people do,” the Benefactor answers with a half shrug.
“Then you must know why I was looking,” she pressed.
He merely smiles in a benign fashion. “I don’t know for certain, but I can certainly make assumptions.”
Her heart was beating fast, the nerves returning despite the Shadowfell draining them away, despite the proximity of Oziah. She needed a moment to think, and to talk with her allies away from this mysterious figure.
“Give us a moment, please.”
Then she scoops up Little Beastie and leads them back out into the corridor.
The job was simple enough: Find the target, extract them and return them to the Benefactor alive. Of course, as with anyone who uses an alias there was an air of distrust between our group and them, so…
“Don’t doubt for a second that we get many offers,” Oziah says. “You’ll get what you pay for.”
The Benefactor grins. “A very convincing argument. I shall add an extra one hundred gold. However – there will be a condition, should you accept the mission. A show of faith on both sides.”
Delilah, stoking Little Beastie in her arms, asks, “What is the condition?”
The man’s eyes fell on the kitten. Delilah raises an eyebrow.
“Have you never seen a cat before?”
“If the condition is the cat, that’s totally fine,” Oziah states, half jokingly.
Delilah just shoots her a look, holding the black kitten closer.
“If you were to leave them with me, I promise they will stay safe, and upon your return and completion of the mission, they will be returned to you unharmed,” the Benefactor vowed. Still Delilah hesitated, the nerves hitting her again when she wished they would fucking leave her be. “You understand I do not trust you, you do not trust me. This is a show of faith on both parts.”
She thinks of a question they probably should have asked before, wondering if she could just keep Little Beastie with her. “How dangerous is this person we are going to kidnap for you?”
“They definitely will put up a fight,” the Benefactor says simply. No embellishment, just plain fact.
She holds his gaze again for a long time. Then she looks down at the kitten in her arms, who is already looking up at her with their saucer sized amber eyes. They tremble a little and she feels her heartstrings quiver. But if anything were to happen to them…
“Try not to scratch his face,” she tells the small cat in Elvish, the words encouragement to be strong but also trying to be lighthearted.
Then she puts Little Beastie on the table. The Benefactor waves his hand and for the first time Delilah feels the shadows sing into life around them, sending a thrill of excitement through her. The coalesce into a pretty silver cage around Little Beastie, complete with cushions, a bowl of water and some food. There is no door so there’s no way for them to get out but it looks quite comfortable.
“Quite plush,” Vandree comments.
“I wasn’t going to let it wander around by itself,” the Benefactor says.
“Of course,” Delilah agrees. “But if anything happens to it, I will take your fingers, and good luck trying to cast a spell after that.”
The Benefactor chuckles. “I wholeheartedly believe you.”
The journey to the location was uneventful. We passed from the Planes of Despair to a mountainous region of the Shadowfell that looked like it should have been the edge of a sea, for the building we came upon was a lighthouse of sorts. Or a mages tower. It was surprisingly tranquil and eerily still. Daybreaker’s reconnaissance told us the whole tower was covered in Abjuration magic with Divination at the top – clearly the way the target was able to see the Benefactor approaching in the past. When calling on the Shadows to help our progress up and through it was the easiest they have ever answered. Perhaps the reason for this was because part of me was or is connected to that Plane despite being born in Twilight.
Ascending the tower to the upper most room we came across a door of light which, when we stepped through took us to somewhere else. There was where our target waited, though not for us. It seemed the man, in his early third decade, covered in dark arcane ruins branded into his skin and claw-like scars with pitch black eyes, was sitting at the end of a long, very high ceiling corridor, staring into a void of blackness speckled with stars. When we approached Daybreaker confirmed the void beyond was no mere blanket of stars, it was an Aberration.
Fortunately, despite his slight change in status, Vandree’s smooth talking convinced the man, Billy, to come away with us, without a need for things to come to blows. Billy seemed particularly delighted when my Shadows reached out to cover him so our escape could go unnoticed without alerting the Aberration – which Billy called ‘Gregory’. Billy claimed and then demonstrated he could command the Shadows too. I began to wonder who this man was (NB: More of a boy really.) and why the Benefactor would claim Billy to be dangerous.
I didn’t realise I was asking the wrong questions until it was too late…
The Benefactor stands on the side of the table closest to the doorway, clapping as Delilah enters the room, Oziah ever present and by her side. He looks at the others slowly trailing in but then specifically at the half-elf.
“I knew I’d hired the right people,” he says with a grin. “So-”
Velnnarul leans in whilst the Benefactor continues speaking to the others and softly whispers, “It is not too late to ask the Benefactor what is to happen to Billy but perhaps you prefer not to know?”
Her dark eyes track the Benefactor carefully and without a second thought she responds. “It may sound cruel, Heret, but I don’t think I care.”
She didn’t have to see his face to know his words were sincere. “I understand.”
With no objection or further questions coming from Delilah, Vandree guides Billy into the room. The moment he sees the Benefactor, all the child-like jovialness evaporates from him. His shoulders slump, his seven foot tall frame slinks down, even the billowing cloak he wears seems to billow a little less.
“Oh. I see,” he says, inky black, pupil-less eyes looking down at the obsidian stone below his feet.
The Benefactor holds his arms out and says with an expression of great sadness, “Come here, my son.”
Delilah’s brow furrows, confused and uncertain at what is going on. This is not the kind of reaction she was expecting from a son to a father, though she has no idea what sort of reaction she would have herself if she met the man who claimed such a moniker. Her bewilderment only grew as the Benefactor took Billy into his arms and he began to cry, silent tears falling down his cheeks.
The bewilderment became dubiety as Billy knelt down and the Benefactor took out a coin. With a gesture of his hand the Benefactor tapped the coin to Billy’s forehead and pulled. Delilah felt the shadows tremble as what came out of Billy were the dark tendrils of his very soul being pulled into the coin. Oziah reaches her hand out, clenching her fist, uttering an arcane word of command but the spell does not take hold of the Benefactor.
“I am truly sorry, but this must be done,” he says, voice full of genuine remorse.
With one last shudder Billy slumped to the ground, a husk, a corpse, void of any life he had mere moments before. The Benefactor lets out a breath and begins to wipe at his eyes.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that but speed was of the essence.”
“What did he do to deserve that?” Vandree asks, a hint of slight mortification in his voice.
The Benefactor looks down at the body of the boy that once was his son. “He did nothing to deserve it.”
“So the situation you’re in right now is that we’re probably about to become very violent,” Oziah says, stepping forward. “How about you skip the talk of morality and grief and tell us what’s going on.”
“I took his soul.”
“Why?” Vandree asks.
“I have my reasons.”
Delilah, finally tearing her eyes away from the corpse, asks in a low voice, “How did he get like that?”
He looks at her sadly. “He was my son.”
Delilah looks at the body again, a feeling creeping up on her, something akin to a premonition, but she violently pushes it away from her thoughts. Not here. Not now. She just wants to get her cat, get their reward and go.
“I hate people like this,” Oziah growls. “Why did you end up taking his soul?”
Velnnarul interjects. “Perhaps it would be helpful if you would tell the story from the beginning, briefly but completely.”
“No. I hired you for a job.” He catched Delilah’s eyes and she feels her throat catch. “But I have one regret.”
He moves aside and reveals the silver cage. Delilah sees the small form of the black cat, her first companion she found, her Little Beastie, but they are unmoving, their eyes half closed and glazed over in the telltale sign of lifelessness.
“I miscalculated their constitution for this plane,” the Benefactor says softly. Delilah doesn’t realise she was moving forward until Oziah grips her arm firmly, keeping her in place. “Before they died I did manage to save a part of them. I can imbue it into yourself if you wish.”
There’s the sound of pages flipping from behind her as Delilah looks up at Oziah.
“I know you didn’t like Little Beastie…” she starts
“Just say the word,” Oziah says.
“I…”
“Just say the word.”
The Shadows quiver under her feet.
“I remember there was an agreement about fingers,” Velnnarul gently reminds her.
Coming to a swift decision, Delilah gently but firmly removes Oziah’s hand from her arm, walking right up to the Benefactor to get right in his space. Her eyes shine with the tears she is holding back. Despite how cold this place makes her feel, the Pale Daughter's anger is palpable, but what she is angry at she does not know.
“Such a little thing, isn’t it?”
The Benefactor gives a slight, sad nod. “It was a terrible thing to watch.”
The sound of a sword being drawn from its scabbard comes from Oziah, but Delilah keeps her hands by her side, balled into fists.
“Give them back to me,” she demands in a low voice.
The Benefactor nods, pulls out a different coin and taps it to her forehead. Shadows spill from it into Delilah, their cold tendrils rocking her. Yet their touch is not unfamiliar, like the soft brush of a furred head against her leg or the sound of a low purr. She shudders as the last piece merges with her own soul. Then, a small piece of shadow emerges from her chest, falling to the table where it’s smokey form begins to take the shape of a fully grown cat made of pure shadow. Delilah takes a shuddering breath in, looking at the not-cat in front of her.
“…hello, my dark friend…”
The Pale Daughter’s eyes widen at the unexpected voice in her head. Tentatively reaching out, her hands pass through the shadow cat’s form as they disappear, only to reappear on her shoulder, nuzzling into her neck.
“Beastie? Is that… you?”
“…in the flesh…well, so to speak…”
“There you are.”
The Pale Daughter and Shadow Cat both turn to look at the Benefactor, seeing him smile.
“The one I thought I’d lost. The final child. Hello there, daughter.”
Beastie’s ears go flat as Delilah takes a slight step back, a rising alarm threatening to make her run.
“It’s you…?”
She looks at Oziah in confusion.
“You tell me,” Oziah says, hefting her sword. “I’m still very ready to kill this man.”
Vandree steps forward, gesturing at Delilah, who takes another small step back. “Are you going to turn this one into a soul coin too?”
The Benefactor does not respond. He has not looked away from her. The only change is his smile becomes darker.
“…i like not the look in his eyes…”
“You and me both.”
Aloud she says, “You won’t kill me. You won’t take my soul. You want to know why?” His smile turns curious. “Because there’s a woman out there who would love to see you and she’s always watching me. And I know how to find her.”
The Benefactor laughs darkly. “Challenge accepted.”
The shadow in the room suddenly flows towards him and in the next second the Benefactor is gone.
“Fuck,” Oziah says.
“Fucking hell,” Vandree agrees.
Delilah is already grabbing the map and the coins from the table and shoving them into her bag of holding. “We need to leave. Now.” She grabs the cloak and a dark band from the corpse of her half-brother. “Jaezred!”
Then she is leading the charge to their escape.
With the Benefactor disappearing from our presence, there was no reason for us to linger. Vandree messaged Jenna Archselon across the planes, who met us outside the gate of the Obsidian City, and Plane Shifted us all back to the Fort.
Further discussions with the team will be had over the following days. Two books were acquired whilst in the lighthouse tower, one of which Vandree has and is more than likely reading as this report is being written. I have in my possession the other, the one on the Obsidian City. Mere hours have passed since our return and yet I know with a certainty that I cannot name that I will need to return there – be it to face and possibly end the man who calls himself my father, or to become captured and used for what purpose I am unsure.
A return to the research I have previously done will be required, this time following the threads of the cult to Fraz-Urb’luu. If anything further is found, it will be passed on before the date of the next expedition to the Obsidian City.
Report passed on 27 day of Deepwinter.
Neh diis lus’a, lus diis’a.
Continued in ‘The Gloaming’ 🗡️
Thank you Jamie J for the wonderful notes you take! They really helped in writing this 🖤
Hello Delilah,
It has come to my attention that you are looking for information on your past, I have some information that I do believe you will find particularly interesting. Come meet me at The Obsidian City, I have a small job for you to do and you might want to bring some friends.
Sincerely,
The Benefactor
It has come to my attention that you are looking for information on your past, I have some information that I do believe you will find particularly interesting. Come meet me at The Obsidian City, I have a small job for you to do and you might want to bring some friends.
Sincerely,
The Benefactor
Allies requested to go to The Obsidian City for a job. More details will be given upon meeting up with The Benefactor. Come prepared to negotiate with words and knives.
ASSIGNMENT REPORT #21
People/Organisations of Note:
Oziah Daybreaker – holy warrior, aasimar (fallen), female; mount: Deimos (skeletal, fiend)
Jaezred Vandree – mage (pact magic, possibly the Moonweaver?), noble, drow, male
Heret Velnnarul – stealth fighter, human, male; businessman/partner/owner of OMTC
Varga – fighter/barbarian, half-orc, female
‘The Benefactor’ – mage, human(?), male,
Billy – mage or spar velah’rnair, aasimar (fallen), male, brother (deceased?)
Locations:
Fort Ettin – Adventurer's hub
The Planes of Despair – area of the Shadowfell
Obsidian City – south of the Planes of Despair by 40 miles
Body:
Some context for this report is needed. After the slaying of the Fugitive and the Outlaw, things had grown relatively quiet in the Dawnlands and in Fort Ettin. Taking the opportunity to pursue some of my own interests, and making use of the extensive Library in the Fort, a decision to research others who have been known to have abilities and skills such as mine. Initial research showed promising results.
Stories of individuals with the ability to step through Shadows lead to a tale of an ancient assassin who infiltrated castles and killed corrupt nobles in the long ago on another continent of the Prime Material. No confirmation if this individual worked for a thieves guild, but though many such organisations alluded to having the power of shadows, most of them were thieves guilds with too much pride for their own good. There was another about a team of thieves who allied themselves to a shadow demon called Fraz-Urb’luu and then, finally, a vague lead about people who have given themselves over to, or had been trapped within the Shadowfell.
Feeling this was the lead that held the most promise – knowing what Lady Neremorte has done in the past, the Court having long suspected and then having proven through my own Final Test that she does, indeed, practice necromantic magic favoured by those of the Unseelie and liches – the research lead to two points on the proverbial map: Balder’s Gate where the cult gathered, and a city of obsidian within the Shadowfell where the those who have been steeped in shadows could be found, if one knew who to ask and how much it would cost.
Everything is monotone greys and blacks, with a thin whispering wind adding to the unsettling nature of the Shadowfell. Delilah feels rather than sees right away why this place is called the Planes of Despair as her nervousness is wiped away so only a bare trickle of it remains. On the horizon are six towers that rise to sharp points, completely black and eye-catchingly enchanting in a way very opposite to anything of the Feywild.
Vandree and Velnnarul pull the hoods of their elven cloaks up. Delilah leaves her cowl down. Something about these lands, something about this place makes her feel like she doesn’t want to hide who she is, what she is. Little Beastie, carried in the bjorn on her front, has its ears flat, eyes as wide as saucers. She tries to comfort the little creature. They use their little paws to ensure they stay tucked in safe behind the confines of her cloak of starry night. The pale half-elf looks down and notices there seem to be less stars and more of just the black void between the stars with shifting swirls of darker black to match the grey of the landscape they are walking in.
“It’s that way,” she says, pointing. Oziah offers her a hand and without looking Delilah takes it. Sitting behind her love makes the nerves go away faster, as always being close to the stunning beauty does. But Delilah feels ashamed, never has she needed it so much before for the unknown they might find in those spires of dark rock.
Further research was done into the Obsidian City – the name of the actual location – and where it was located, as well as a general description of the layout: six towers of obsidian sticking up through the earth before coming to the huge chasm where the ‘city proper’ can be found, which leads underground. The stories suggested anyone was welcome, even those who would be considered dangerous, provided they do not bring harm. Also the creation of light within the city is forbidden, indicating the inhabitants prefer total darkness.
Once they pass through the obsidian gate, Delilah dismounts from Deimos, but stays close to Oziah. Looking around, the place does not seem like it is inhabited at all. It wasn’t until they passed two of the six obsidian towers that the whispering wind sounded more like whispered conversation. Delilah’s steps slow as she tries to listen. Then, from the corner of her eye, she spots movement. Turning around suddenly to see who or what it might be, she is met with nothing. The others look at her. Velnnarul is also looking around them, as if he can see or hear something or someone.
“Can anyone else hear that? Like whispered conversation?” Delilah asks.
Velnnarul gives a small nod. “I can hear something, but I don’t know what.”
Oziah’s look of concern makes Delilah decide it would be best to not get wrapped up in what may or may not be there. Looking forward, on the path they were on she sees the square base of the tower they were to get to.
“That’s where we need to go,” she says, leading them on.
Which was why when our party arrived at the City and entered the tower we were to meet the Benefactor in, it was surprising to all that there was a lit fireplace casting a dim light. Seems that light is not banned outright, so long as it’s in the towers or above the City proper.
The Benefactor appeared to be a human male in his fifth decade or so of life. He had scars as if he has seen battle but without getting a proper look at his visage (NB: He kept his hood up the entire time.) there was only so much we could discern.
“Please, come in, sit down,” the hooded man gestures to the chairs beside the table. “We can discuss things properly.”
The Pale Daughter approaches on silent steps, her elven boots making no sound where everyone else’s cause a soft ringing with each one taken. Choosing to sit on the very edge of the chair right across from him, Delilah studies the man across from her, trying to get a beat on him. The figure seems entirely neutral, not welcoming but neither is he threatening. It doesn’t quite put her at ease but it certainly makes the bizarreness of the whole situation tickle her curiosity.
Oziah comes to stand right behind her chair. Delilah cannot help but smile inside. Her dark angel, ever watching and waiting to jump into action at a word.
“You are the benefactor, I take it,” Delilah states.
“That is I. I do apologise for the moniker, it is a way of keeping myself… safe,” the Benefactor explains cryptically.
“Why would you need to keep safe?” she asks, curiosity instantly piqued.
“You don’t know what happens when you put your name out into the world. I would hate someone to use it against me. I apologise if it put you off.”
“On the contrary, it makes me more curious.”
There’s a beat of silence as Vandree, Varga, and Velnnarul come in. Hands moving quickly, Delilah undoes the straps of the kitty bjorn and puts Little Beastie on the table. Their hackles rise momentarily before settling as the pale half-elf gives them some calming scritches.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she says in a tone that dares the Benefactor to say he minds very much. He does not, and Delilah feels an unexpected twinge of affinity to this mysterious figure. “So, you said you have a small job for me?”
“Yes. I see you brought companions.” He looks up at Oziah, but gestures for the rest to sit down. “There is an individual who’s taken up residence not far from here who I need you to collect for me.”
“In what state?” Delilah asks, slipping into the familiar role easily.
“They need to be alive. Very alive.”
“How far away is this person from here?”
“About a two hour walk.” The Benefactor gives them directions which their group either commits to memory or trusts the others to recall. “I simply need you to travel there, retrieve this person, and bring them to me.”
“Will they wish to come?” Velnnarul inquires.
There is an almost imperceptible twist to the Benefactor’s lips. “Unlikely.”
Delilah’s eyes narrow. “Why can’t you do this yourself? Why do you need us?”
“The person in question has outsmarted me and found a way to detect my approach,” he says, resting back in his chair a little. “I can’t get anywhere near him without him vanishing off. I require someone to do it for me.”
It was the first time the girl of shadows was asked to bring someone back alive. That in and of itself made her suspicious but as her discerning eyes studied the man across from her Delilah could not read any falsehood to him. The Benefactor's frustration at the person’s ability to escape was genuine. And yet…
“If you don’t mind my asking,” she starts, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at the Benefactor’s eyes, “when we bring him back, what is it you intend to do with him?”
He holds her gaze, unflinching. “I’m afraid there are certain limits on the information I’m willing to part with.”
She wasn’t sure she would admit it, but Delilah was impressed by this man’s tenacity to hold his ground. Clearly the Benefactor was used to dealing with people like her. But then, the place they were in was a haven to all sorts, apparently, even those who would be considered dangerous to society. Was that why she felt a rapport building with this mysterious stranger?
“And in exchange for our doing this thing,” Velnnarul cuts in, “what is it that you are willing to do for my friend here?”
“I’m glad you asked,” the Benefactor says, smiling. He pulls out a piece of aged parchment and sets it down on the table. Little Beastie jumps a little, but then sniffs towards the paper before turning back to Delilah. “This is a map of the Obsidian City. What you see here is just an overflow of the city below. It is vast. Built within the mines and natural caves that lie below here. It’s a labyrinth in which one would become lost forever without a map.”
A question bursts past her lips before Delilah could stop it. “How did you know I was looking into this place?” She had told no one about her research except Oziah and even the Researcher Students from the Academy who helped her, were intimidated enough by Delilah’s presence to not risk talking to her more than they needed to.
“Not many people look for this place so I listen out for when people do,” the Benefactor answers with a half shrug.
“Then you must know why I was looking,” she pressed.
He merely smiles in a benign fashion. “I don’t know for certain, but I can certainly make assumptions.”
Her heart was beating fast, the nerves returning despite the Shadowfell draining them away, despite the proximity of Oziah. She needed a moment to think, and to talk with her allies away from this mysterious figure.
“Give us a moment, please.”
Then she scoops up Little Beastie and leads them back out into the corridor.
The job was simple enough: Find the target, extract them and return them to the Benefactor alive. Of course, as with anyone who uses an alias there was an air of distrust between our group and them, so…
“Don’t doubt for a second that we get many offers,” Oziah says. “You’ll get what you pay for.”
The Benefactor grins. “A very convincing argument. I shall add an extra one hundred gold. However – there will be a condition, should you accept the mission. A show of faith on both sides.”
Delilah, stoking Little Beastie in her arms, asks, “What is the condition?”
The man’s eyes fell on the kitten. Delilah raises an eyebrow.
“Have you never seen a cat before?”
“If the condition is the cat, that’s totally fine,” Oziah states, half jokingly.
Delilah just shoots her a look, holding the black kitten closer.
“If you were to leave them with me, I promise they will stay safe, and upon your return and completion of the mission, they will be returned to you unharmed,” the Benefactor vowed. Still Delilah hesitated, the nerves hitting her again when she wished they would fucking leave her be. “You understand I do not trust you, you do not trust me. This is a show of faith on both parts.”
She thinks of a question they probably should have asked before, wondering if she could just keep Little Beastie with her. “How dangerous is this person we are going to kidnap for you?”
“They definitely will put up a fight,” the Benefactor says simply. No embellishment, just plain fact.
She holds his gaze again for a long time. Then she looks down at the kitten in her arms, who is already looking up at her with their saucer sized amber eyes. They tremble a little and she feels her heartstrings quiver. But if anything were to happen to them…
“Try not to scratch his face,” she tells the small cat in Elvish, the words encouragement to be strong but also trying to be lighthearted.
Then she puts Little Beastie on the table. The Benefactor waves his hand and for the first time Delilah feels the shadows sing into life around them, sending a thrill of excitement through her. The coalesce into a pretty silver cage around Little Beastie, complete with cushions, a bowl of water and some food. There is no door so there’s no way for them to get out but it looks quite comfortable.
“Quite plush,” Vandree comments.
“I wasn’t going to let it wander around by itself,” the Benefactor says.
“Of course,” Delilah agrees. “But if anything happens to it, I will take your fingers, and good luck trying to cast a spell after that.”
The Benefactor chuckles. “I wholeheartedly believe you.”
The journey to the location was uneventful. We passed from the Planes of Despair to a mountainous region of the Shadowfell that looked like it should have been the edge of a sea, for the building we came upon was a lighthouse of sorts. Or a mages tower. It was surprisingly tranquil and eerily still. Daybreaker’s reconnaissance told us the whole tower was covered in Abjuration magic with Divination at the top – clearly the way the target was able to see the Benefactor approaching in the past. When calling on the Shadows to help our progress up and through it was the easiest they have ever answered. Perhaps the reason for this was because part of me was or is connected to that Plane despite being born in Twilight.
Ascending the tower to the upper most room we came across a door of light which, when we stepped through took us to somewhere else. There was where our target waited, though not for us. It seemed the man, in his early third decade, covered in dark arcane ruins branded into his skin and claw-like scars with pitch black eyes, was sitting at the end of a long, very high ceiling corridor, staring into a void of blackness speckled with stars. When we approached Daybreaker confirmed the void beyond was no mere blanket of stars, it was an Aberration.
Fortunately, despite his slight change in status, Vandree’s smooth talking convinced the man, Billy, to come away with us, without a need for things to come to blows. Billy seemed particularly delighted when my Shadows reached out to cover him so our escape could go unnoticed without alerting the Aberration – which Billy called ‘Gregory’. Billy claimed and then demonstrated he could command the Shadows too. I began to wonder who this man was (NB: More of a boy really.) and why the Benefactor would claim Billy to be dangerous.
I didn’t realise I was asking the wrong questions until it was too late…
The Benefactor stands on the side of the table closest to the doorway, clapping as Delilah enters the room, Oziah ever present and by her side. He looks at the others slowly trailing in but then specifically at the half-elf.
“I knew I’d hired the right people,” he says with a grin. “So-”
Velnnarul leans in whilst the Benefactor continues speaking to the others and softly whispers, “It is not too late to ask the Benefactor what is to happen to Billy but perhaps you prefer not to know?”
Her dark eyes track the Benefactor carefully and without a second thought she responds. “It may sound cruel, Heret, but I don’t think I care.”
She didn’t have to see his face to know his words were sincere. “I understand.”
With no objection or further questions coming from Delilah, Vandree guides Billy into the room. The moment he sees the Benefactor, all the child-like jovialness evaporates from him. His shoulders slump, his seven foot tall frame slinks down, even the billowing cloak he wears seems to billow a little less.
“Oh. I see,” he says, inky black, pupil-less eyes looking down at the obsidian stone below his feet.
The Benefactor holds his arms out and says with an expression of great sadness, “Come here, my son.”
Delilah’s brow furrows, confused and uncertain at what is going on. This is not the kind of reaction she was expecting from a son to a father, though she has no idea what sort of reaction she would have herself if she met the man who claimed such a moniker. Her bewilderment only grew as the Benefactor took Billy into his arms and he began to cry, silent tears falling down his cheeks.
The bewilderment became dubiety as Billy knelt down and the Benefactor took out a coin. With a gesture of his hand the Benefactor tapped the coin to Billy’s forehead and pulled. Delilah felt the shadows tremble as what came out of Billy were the dark tendrils of his very soul being pulled into the coin. Oziah reaches her hand out, clenching her fist, uttering an arcane word of command but the spell does not take hold of the Benefactor.
“I am truly sorry, but this must be done,” he says, voice full of genuine remorse.
With one last shudder Billy slumped to the ground, a husk, a corpse, void of any life he had mere moments before. The Benefactor lets out a breath and begins to wipe at his eyes.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that but speed was of the essence.”
“What did he do to deserve that?” Vandree asks, a hint of slight mortification in his voice.
The Benefactor looks down at the body of the boy that once was his son. “He did nothing to deserve it.”
“So the situation you’re in right now is that we’re probably about to become very violent,” Oziah says, stepping forward. “How about you skip the talk of morality and grief and tell us what’s going on.”
“I took his soul.”
“Why?” Vandree asks.
“I have my reasons.”
Delilah, finally tearing her eyes away from the corpse, asks in a low voice, “How did he get like that?”
He looks at her sadly. “He was my son.”
Delilah looks at the body again, a feeling creeping up on her, something akin to a premonition, but she violently pushes it away from her thoughts. Not here. Not now. She just wants to get her cat, get their reward and go.
“I hate people like this,” Oziah growls. “Why did you end up taking his soul?”
Velnnarul interjects. “Perhaps it would be helpful if you would tell the story from the beginning, briefly but completely.”
“No. I hired you for a job.” He catched Delilah’s eyes and she feels her throat catch. “But I have one regret.”
He moves aside and reveals the silver cage. Delilah sees the small form of the black cat, her first companion she found, her Little Beastie, but they are unmoving, their eyes half closed and glazed over in the telltale sign of lifelessness.
“I miscalculated their constitution for this plane,” the Benefactor says softly. Delilah doesn’t realise she was moving forward until Oziah grips her arm firmly, keeping her in place. “Before they died I did manage to save a part of them. I can imbue it into yourself if you wish.”
There’s the sound of pages flipping from behind her as Delilah looks up at Oziah.
“I know you didn’t like Little Beastie…” she starts
“Just say the word,” Oziah says.
“I…”
“Just say the word.”
The Shadows quiver under her feet.
“I remember there was an agreement about fingers,” Velnnarul gently reminds her.
Coming to a swift decision, Delilah gently but firmly removes Oziah’s hand from her arm, walking right up to the Benefactor to get right in his space. Her eyes shine with the tears she is holding back. Despite how cold this place makes her feel, the Pale Daughter's anger is palpable, but what she is angry at she does not know.
“Such a little thing, isn’t it?”
The Benefactor gives a slight, sad nod. “It was a terrible thing to watch.”
The sound of a sword being drawn from its scabbard comes from Oziah, but Delilah keeps her hands by her side, balled into fists.
“Give them back to me,” she demands in a low voice.
The Benefactor nods, pulls out a different coin and taps it to her forehead. Shadows spill from it into Delilah, their cold tendrils rocking her. Yet their touch is not unfamiliar, like the soft brush of a furred head against her leg or the sound of a low purr. She shudders as the last piece merges with her own soul. Then, a small piece of shadow emerges from her chest, falling to the table where it’s smokey form begins to take the shape of a fully grown cat made of pure shadow. Delilah takes a shuddering breath in, looking at the not-cat in front of her.
“…hello, my dark friend…”
The Pale Daughter’s eyes widen at the unexpected voice in her head. Tentatively reaching out, her hands pass through the shadow cat’s form as they disappear, only to reappear on her shoulder, nuzzling into her neck.
“Beastie? Is that… you?”
“…in the flesh…well, so to speak…”
“There you are.”
The Pale Daughter and Shadow Cat both turn to look at the Benefactor, seeing him smile.
“The one I thought I’d lost. The final child. Hello there, daughter.”
Beastie’s ears go flat as Delilah takes a slight step back, a rising alarm threatening to make her run.
“It’s you…?”
She looks at Oziah in confusion.
“You tell me,” Oziah says, hefting her sword. “I’m still very ready to kill this man.”
Vandree steps forward, gesturing at Delilah, who takes another small step back. “Are you going to turn this one into a soul coin too?”
The Benefactor does not respond. He has not looked away from her. The only change is his smile becomes darker.
“…i like not the look in his eyes…”
“You and me both.”
Aloud she says, “You won’t kill me. You won’t take my soul. You want to know why?” His smile turns curious. “Because there’s a woman out there who would love to see you and she’s always watching me. And I know how to find her.”
The Benefactor laughs darkly. “Challenge accepted.”
The shadow in the room suddenly flows towards him and in the next second the Benefactor is gone.
“Fuck,” Oziah says.
“Fucking hell,” Vandree agrees.
Delilah is already grabbing the map and the coins from the table and shoving them into her bag of holding. “We need to leave. Now.” She grabs the cloak and a dark band from the corpse of her half-brother. “Jaezred!”
Then she is leading the charge to their escape.
With the Benefactor disappearing from our presence, there was no reason for us to linger. Vandree messaged Jenna Archselon across the planes, who met us outside the gate of the Obsidian City, and Plane Shifted us all back to the Fort.
Further discussions with the team will be had over the following days. Two books were acquired whilst in the lighthouse tower, one of which Vandree has and is more than likely reading as this report is being written. I have in my possession the other, the one on the Obsidian City. Mere hours have passed since our return and yet I know with a certainty that I cannot name that I will need to return there – be it to face and possibly end the man who calls himself my father, or to become captured and used for what purpose I am unsure.
A return to the research I have previously done will be required, this time following the threads of the cult to Fraz-Urb’luu. If anything further is found, it will be passed on before the date of the next expedition to the Obsidian City.
Report passed on 27 day of Deepwinter.
Neh diis lus’a, lus diis’a.
Continued in ‘The Gloaming’ 🗡️
Thank you Jamie J for the wonderful notes you take! They really helped in writing this 🖤