So, we were in our safehouse surveying our options for assaulting the tower, and No Brows was tripping balls again. For Desna’s sake, this guy must have an endless supply of magic mushrooms… actually, this could be a better thing than I first realized (NOTE TO SELF: profitize relationship with No Brows, sell that hallucinogenic goodness). We all agreed that our original plan to drop in the acid pouch from the Count was the best plan we had, so we decided to roll with it.
That decided, at dawn (for dramatic purposes, we felt dawn would be a good time to strike) we made our way to the tavern in town where we hoped to make our forward base for the attack. Before we get there, though, we get jumped by the four remaining Demon Wolves including that poseur Duristan. At least one of those Demon Wolves had to be a Varisian in his mortal life because they kneecapped us like old pros, and No Brows and Lux were down like panties off of a Varisian Mistress. Which is to say really quickly. Which is to say that all signs pointed to us being completely dead before we could even deliver our gift to Vrood. Which is to say that I was a little disappointed. Luckily, the tide soon turned as I convinced a couple of them that their armor was burning them alive, No Brows chemical proclivities meant that he had plenty to share with the leader of the pack, Otto stabbed a guy with his rapier, Endell gave Duristan a magically incapacitating handy (and Otto also stabbed him mid-tantric-orgasm), and I stabbed the last wolf in the eyes with my silver dagger. Somehow the wolf that Otto originally had stabbed became enthralled by Endell, so she kept him on as a manservant. It was a little weird, but seemed useful. Otto cut out the leader’s heart, and with that bargaining chip in hand (in sack, actually) we negotiated a deal with the Prince’s Wolves that they would go all in on the assault so long as they got the heart when the business was concluded.
We tried to hole up in the tavern, but it seemed that the Whispering Way had gotten there before we had, as there were some runes and glyphs around the frame of the entry that matched the ones we’d seen at Harrowstone prison, so we decided to head to the Blacksmith’s shop instead, where we rested and healed ourselves after that nearly successful ambush.
With the time around high noon (equally dramatic to dawn, so still suiting our purposes), we’d finally rested and healed ourselves, and so we felt ready to begin the attack on the tower. Harry loaded me up with an invisibility spell, and I flew to the top of the tower. I tossed the guard over the side with a levitation spell, and I landed to insert the nag when some white dead thing popped out and grabbed me. It was decidedly unpleasant. I dropped in the bag and then banished the thing. As the bag did its thing, much screaming followed. I thought that whatever was happening would travel downward, so I stuck around for a few seconds and shot the crossbow that was on the roof before I noticed that a pink tendril was coming out of the trapdoor. I decided to beat a hasty exit from the tower. As I flew away, I could see that the entire place was filled with pink goo. Nothing was coming out which meant good things for the good guys. However, pink tendrils were making their way towards all of us that were skilled in the mystic arts, so we had to make a run for it. The rest of the group mopped up the zombies (especially Lux; seems like the less attractive she becomes, the more ass she can kick), and eventually, Vrood’s smoking husk of a body stumbled out of the front door, and he was promptly shot by Otto.
When the pinking stopped, not much was left of the tower. Everything magical inside had been consumed by the pink cloud, making this a sad day for treasure seekers everywhere. We buried the formerly undead (now re-dead?) bodies and went to see the Mayor to collect on our reward for killing Vrood. The Mayor was able to show us Vrood’s dealings with the rest of the Whispering Way, namely the composition of a letter to the head of the group talking about how we were on the group’s watchlist and that Vrood was working for a man in Caliphas and that he had another associate in Illmouth. Otto handed over the heart to the Prince’s wolves, and then he shot Endell’s manservant wolf in the back. The other wolves seemed to think that was a swell move. I was a little surprised, but seeing that wolf’s guts all over the floor made me glad that Otto never decided to shoot me back in the old days. He seems disinclined to shoot me these days, so it isn’t a huge concern anymore, but knowing that he’ll shoot a man in the back made me respect him a little more: All Varisians know that the only fights worth picking are unfair ones. Maybe all of that Sweet Varisian Lovin’ is having even more of an effect than I had suspected. To celebrate, we all got drunk on the mayor’s reserve of great, then decent, then terrible wines. It was a night to remember if you were capable of remembering it.
With that info about the Whispering Way disclosed, I realized that my ticket to another slum had been punched: To Illmouth we would go. All of the travel guides agree that it’s about as scenic as Lux’s face, and to top it off, the place is generally hostile to visitors. Certainly sounds like tourism is a huge industry, no? At least there are certain to be some Varisians around town, so I’ll seek them out, and as I understand, there are a few large trading towns in between Feldgrau and Illmouth, so we can stock up on supplies between here and there. I suspect we’ll need them.