The mouthpiece was more utilitarian than aesthetic. When you placed it on, you realized several things immediately, also realizing that it was Septul’s subtle influence that brought instant awareness of these many fine details: the mouthpiece masked your breathing sounds confining them from within, it also seemed to generate clean air within it that bore a near flowery aroma. This cleaner air had an invigorating effect, sharpening your awareness significantly. Further, you could actually talk but it sounded nothing more than a whisper to the hearer, as Gwen observed. You realize you could remain underwater or in airless pockets for extensive periods, and be impervious to gaseous traps.
‘Suits you actually, makes you look more terrifying’ Gwen said with a laugh.
She slowly nursed a glass of expensive wine, feigning a frown ‘Oh what, you’re so eager to be rid of me so quickly?! You little bugger it’s another woman isn’t it!?’ she snarled dramatically, feigning anger then laughed, ‘Kyrillia’s cause? I’m not entirely sure what her cause is. Well, I’d always fancied wielding a proper brand. Me daddies a blacksmith fore his business ran dry. Bloody Elsmyrian steel nothing can compare to it. Tell me more about your adventures…’ she caressed your naked chest and fondled Septul quizzically, enamored with it ‘it looks fit for a king to wear, you devil you how on Earth did you ever aquire it? Forget it, i don’t think I want to know! Save the story for more…romantic setting’
When Gwen slept after a mere glass of expensive wine, you stole from the room through the window. You ran rooftop to rooftop, coming upon a distant tower you somehow knew was Thrag’s personal tower. Scaling it was not much of a challenge, when you gained height there were fewer handholds and the walls were smooth. As you studied the top turrets you realized it will require a longer time to properly gain it.
The climb was a pain in the ass, but you managed it despite its incredible difficulty. When you neared the top, you heard a distinctive whistling alerting you to a guard. Your spectral vision came to life and you noted the two stationary guards hunched over a game of craps, drinking and gambling. Both had a pair of guard dogs who were even more bored than their masters, lazing about uninterested in their masters uninteresting game of chance.
When your foot touched the ground, you snagged a tripwire that rang a series of small windchime bells nearby.
Guard #1: “What in the bloody hell?”
Guard #2: “Ah relax would’cha? It was prob that worthless cat, or the wind it gets pretty fierce up this high’
Guard #1: “Cat aint worthless, she’s a natural born mouser’
Guard #2: *farts obnoxiously loud* ‘well bugger off and go check it out, for fooks sake why do you think I got you this job! So I can take it easy!’
Guard #1: “Ah very well, have to take a shit anyhow. Mind the fort’
Guard #2: “Bring a bit o’ bacon and some fresh beer while yer at it eh?”
Guard #1: “Why yes mi’lord, a splendid idea. Perhaps I’ll bring ya back a cheap whore to fuck while I’m at it!’
SEPTUL:Lord Thrag is one of the more loathed of houselords for his various perversions. His weakness is women, as well as his intense greed. If you were to rob him properly many other houselords would lavish you with respect and admiration. It’s known he keeps a dungeon-harem where he takes his sex slaves and ‘breaks’ them in. Slavery is outlawed in Nyr, and highly punishable by royal decree.
While the guardsmen prattled, you moved towards an unguarded door facing the coast to the north. Within a few minutes, you had the lock opened and slipped through, just as a guard was slowly turning the corner.
“Thought I saw something” he muttered, then you heard the same guard fishing for a keyring.
“Damn it which key was it now?” you heard the man through the open window to the right of the door.
You stealthed inside of a tower guard-room, furnished with a wooden desk, a weapon rack, a cloak mounted on the wall, and some sort of log book on the desk with various notes written in it. There’s a single square shaped trapdoor in the floor with an iron loop for a handle as well as a rope ladder thats next to it. You struggled fiercely but managed to pry it open using your legs and pulling hard. Leaping through and closing it quietly you slipped into a circular passageway. When you landed the new boots you wore absorbed the brunt of the impact and doubly soaked up any damning sounds you might have ordinarily generated.
As you fell quietly, you spotted the back of a soldier walking away from you a dagger toss ahead. Another was coming your way from the opposite direction! You slipped into the shadowy section of the wall and stood perfectly frozen when the guard and even his shepard walked right past you entirely. Though you were motionless, the tip of your shortsword made a click against the stone wall. The guardsman drew his sword instantly, growling ‘whose there?!’ then, questioning his own sanity sheathed his weapon, ‘damned rats’ and continued along, ‘where’d that fucken cat disappear to?’ the guard said to himself.
As you followed after the guard you came across a door where a 3rd guard was posted and stationary. Meanwhile, the trapdoor above crept open and the ladder dropped. The guardsman from the roof slid down and walked right past you as you became one with the wall. The inky black cloak of Ash’s seemed to be a portable curtain of darkness entirely.
When the guard reached the door he barked a command to one of the other guards ‘go down to the kitchen and bring a bit o’ bacon, some beer and be quick about it! Oh, send one o’ yer little shit for brain ‘squires’ to fetch us a proper whore, we’ll pitch in for her. Go try the Banshee, ask for Numaress or Helena. Those sordid sluts seem to delight my cock rather than coin, heh heh’
The same guardsman returned toward the rope ladder, turning ‘and be quick about it!’ then began climbing up the ladder.
One of the two hall guards said ‘come on with me, need your help fetching one o’ the barrels of beer from the winecellar, and I have to take a monstrous shit’
The two guards sauntered off leaving one at the door. The guardsman stood taut and alert, ‘nobodies going to get past Duncan!’
Septul had exerted her dominance over the man who was entangled in her infuence, you saw for a moment a red aura of crimson light surround the guardsmans head and he clutched at it in agony for a spell before succumbing to her will. The guardsman smiled and beckoned you over toward him, greeting you with a grin ‘ah, good to see you. Listen, go on in, have yourself a time. Don’t worry about a thing, nobodies getting past me. Just try to keep things down, though I somehow doubt you will you cheeky bastard! Mainly for me, or I might get jealous hahaha’
When you stole into the bedchamber, with a guard at your command you came into a luxurious, kingly loft fitted with a sea of plush cushions and exotic easternese rugs. There, laying lazily in a four poster king sized bed with her back toward you was a full figured goddess with long wavy tresses of dark coffee colored hair, and a body that would bring most kings to their knees. She was clad scantily save for a jeweled thong-like cloth and bra-top. When you dared draw closer, a black panther came out of the shadows and caught you off guard. The adult feline drew you into a corner with deliberate terseness in its poise, prepped to spring upon you at any given moment. The woman spun about, her gleaming eyes eying you with a cross of curiosity and bewilderment ‘just who in the nine hells are you!?’
WHEN YOU STOOD THERE HUNCHED BEFORE THE MENACING FELINE ITS YELLOW HOURGLASS EYES BORED INTO YOU, YOUR MIND GLIMPSED FRAGMENTED IMAGERY you knew were thefted from the raven haired woman’s mind. The panther’s name came to mind: Talon, this beautiful slave had named it. Lord Thrag had gifted it to her as a birthday gift, yet you somehow came to realize Thrag who worshipped women was ill equipped to pleasuring them. It was his habit to prevent some from obtaining love except through himself, or to inflict hideous torments on those he wished he could lavish ecstasy upon. Realization came that Septul, refreshed had an effect of siphoning the thoughts of the living, as easily as the amulet could consume their living souls.