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The six of you walk in a loose formation through the trees. The sun shines wanly directly overhead. A spring breeze brings you the scent of poison and rot, the first signs that you are close to your goal. As you press forward, the trees part, and you find what can only be what you came for.

An ugly, short tower of dull granite sits in the middle of the clearing. Purplish drip stains decorate its sides. The smaller plants of the clearing are black and dead. The heavy double doors stand open. "Looks like my tip was good." Damocles says. "Let's see if we can snarl up their plans."

Yep. You're here. The Tower of Balfour.

ooc

[SHOW]

ARE YOU READY?!

"Hmph," Lorion remarks, glaring up at the demonic tower before them. "Smaller than I thought it'd be." Nodding at Damocles' words, the elf adds, "They even left the door open for us. How nice of them." Despite his quip, the opened door leaves an uneasy feeling in Lorion's stomach, not expecting entrance to be as easy as it seems.

Not wanting to be caught off guard so early on, the high elf taps into his arcane abilities, hoping to sense a false front if one exists. You can't take over the world if you're that stupid. And you can't stop the guy taking over the world if you're even stupider.

Mechanics

[SHOW]

Insight to recognize illusory effects: 17(1d20) +11 = 28

Arcana to detect magic: 12(1d20) +15 = 27

Lorion

[SHOW]

Insight: This is not an illusion. You are confident you would know.

Arcana: So much magic. This whole clearing is awash with the particular variant of black energy you've come to recognize as infernal mana. It's almost certainly what killed the plants. This is not unusual, as demons constantly give off an infernal mana signature, but this is a lot. Either someone strong is here, someone cast a strong spell here recently, or both. You can't tell more without taking a few minutes or more to inspect.

Kharn inhales the scent of poison and rot like an animal snuffling at tracks. "Eugh." He grunts. "I don't understand creatures that can live in a shithole like this. If I was gunnin' to take over the world, I'd not want to do it from a tower that smells like a dead horse's arse." Truth be told, the smell was probably less offensive to the Bugbear than it was to anyone else in the party... After all, you ever smell wet bugbear? Not pretty, and Kharn has to deal with it every time he bathes.

Kharn hefts the massive tusk off of his back. The old, yellowed bone is cracked, held together by wrought steel bolted on, sharpened to jags along the underside up to a cruel, wicked point. He positions himself in the front of the party along with any others that wished to walk beside him, drumming his fingers across the tusk. "Welp. Let's not waste any time. If they're expectin' us, they're expectin' us. Keeping them waiting is just impolite." Kharn looks around a bit as he advances, keeping an eye open for any signs of enemies or other living creatures that may abound in such a hellish area.

Rolls

[SHOW]

Perception8(1d20) +11 = 19

Kharn

[SHOW]

No signs of baddies at present. They've certainly been here, but no one seems to be home.

Gamil grimaces as the massive spire comes into full view. Don't seem right in how easy we stumbled across this. He cranes his neck up, taking in the entire breadth of its height. "It's the size of a goddamned mountain," the goblin murmurs.

His blades free, Gamil palms them with a measured grip as his dark eyes scan his surroundings. Doors open. No guards posted. Are we a trap-laying demon? Or a playful one? The goblin shakes his head, not interested in finding out.

The sight of the tower fills Cinder with a sense of dread, though its surroundings are much more alarming than the structure itself. Such needless death, she thinks, witnessing the decaying husks of plants surrounding the monolith. Does its mere presence cause such decay? Should we even enter something that can do that? The worries already begin to creep into her mind as the reality of the situation sinks in, they are about to enter a truly evil place.

"Maybe we should look around a bit, first," Cinder says, gripping her branch tightly as they draw nearer. "There could be other ways in that don't seem so obviously trapped."

Grozzuk, being a bit slow to catch up, glances around, smirking. "We've been lookin' for a chance like this, mmn? What're we waiting for? Let's rush in there, take them head-on. We will be granted great honor by the gods." His smirk grew to a wide, toothy grin. He drew his large Greatword and let out a low chuckle, feeling antsy for a good fight.

"If there is a trap, it's not an arcane one," Lorion replies to the worried dryad. "But rushing in would be foolish." Feeling the incredibly strong presence of magic, the elf adds, "Especially since I believe Balfour himself may be here, or at least someone powerful." I'm glad most of us are erring on the side of caution.

"Look around," Gamil says with a nod, echoing Cinder's suggestion. "I'll make it quick."

Moving with haste but a dampened approach, the goblin begins a loop around the tower. Can't ever be too certain with these things.

Mechanics

[SHOW]

Perception to see anything out of the ordinary with the landscape or the tower: 9(1d20) +8 = 17

Stealth to not get caught doing so: 10(1d20) +15 = 25

Gamil

[SHOW]

You make your way around the tower, fairly sure nothing spotted you. The tower itself divulges no secrets, but once you are behind it, you can see a smallish opening/path to another clearing. The second clearing contains a number of black and dark brown tents, and the grass is dead, but you can still tell it is more trampled than the first clearing. There is no one there that you can see, though it doesn't look like the camp has been there long.

Gamil hurries back the the group, his eyes wide. "A camp," he says. "Looks recent." Beckoning the others, he looks specifically at Kharn and Grozzuk. "You two want point?"

Kharn looks to Gamil and then to his gouge. A slow smile spreads across his sharp-toothed maw. "Ay, I get it. It's a pun. That's clever." He says, apparently oblivious to the Goblins serious nature. "Yep. I'll start ahead. Stick close, yeah? I'm sure I could hold my own, but many hands make for quick work and all that."

Kharn takes point and starts heading towards the camp. He is on alert as he enters, gripping his Gouge tightly with both hands, eyes and ears open. "Alright. Let's see if anyone's home." He says as he proceeds, padding forward low and to the ground.

Stealth Roll

[SHOW]

13(1d20) +13 = 26

Grozzuk moved quickly, feeling Kharn got his point across rather well. He walked a few steps behind Kharn, tightening his grip on his Greatsword, not wanting to be caught unprepared. "Kharn, Lorion, you two see anything?" Grozzuk tried to whisper, knowing they'd see anything before he did.

"A camp of... what?" Cinder asks, not liking the prospect of encountering an army of demons, or any army for that matter. She is a bit shocked as Kharn immediately marches in the direction suggested by Gamil, feeling that everything is moving too quickly for a safe approach to be possible. She sighs and tries to keep up, but tries to stick towards the rear.

"Don't know," Gamil answers the woman. "Didn't stick around long enough to find out." He stays toward the rear of the group, keeping eyes behind them in case anything from the tower follows behind.

Trailing behind Cinder as the group makes their way toward the camp, Lorion keeps his eyes open for anything suspicious or otherwise interesting. Who would be camped so close to this thing? And why?

Mechanics

[SHOW]

Perception to spot stuff: 3(1d20) +11 = 14

Gamil's answer does nothing to ease the woman's worries about their situation, but she trusts her group and marches on behind the others. Seeing Lorion glancing around she decides to do the same, not eager to be caught off guard when their foes inevitably appear.

Mechanics

[SHOW]

Perception: 13 lol nat 1, wat

The group walks into the camp. As you get closer, the initial suspicion that this is a demon camp seems well-confirmed. Many of the tents are of black canvas, but the ones you initially took for dark brown you realize are actually covered in bloodstains ranging from almost faded out to unsettlingly fresh. There are empty mess tins, bedrolls and other everyday camping and military gear around, but no weapons or armor.

"We should be able to copy their intelligence reports and maybe even sabotage the camp while the demons are away. They're pretty good about taking everything with them when they go, so there's no telling when we'll get another chance like this." Damocles says.

Grozzuk nods at Damocles, glancing back at the party. "If it's as empty as it seems, should we split up and look around?" Grozzuk loosened his grip on his weapon, letting it rest on his shoulder. Being this close to the tower when it is seemingly abandoned fills me with a great unease. Perhaps it is magic I smell, or perhaps it is the unneeded bloodshed that disturbs me.

"Works for me," Gamil responds. He sniffs the air, grimacing at the sight of the blood-soaked tents and refuse around. "Might be doing everyone a favor if we put this to the torch after we're done here." The goblin toes at a tin at his feet. The more we hamper these bastards' ability to get around, the easier it will be to clean up their remnants once we put Balfour down for good.

Gamil moves off on his own, unless any others follow him. Should be an officers' tent 'round here. Even demons are slaves to hierarchy.

Mechanics

[SHOW]

Perception roll to look for a more regal-seeming tent for officers: 6(1d20) +8 = 14

"I'm not sure how useful that would be," Cinder says, more thinking aloud than anything. My own abilities from these creatures are fire-based, so would setting their tents on fire really do anything? "Aren't demons usually fond of fire? Perhaps something holy might be best instead."

"Fire. Holy fire." Gamil throws his hands in the air as he steps off. "Whatever works." He disappears toward the next row of tents. Not my area of expertise.

Grozzuk emitted a low grunt, taking to another direction to walk through the tents. He picked one that seemed larger than the others, and peeked inside, seeing if it was worth heading in.

Sticking his head in the flap, Grozzuk almost pulls it right out again. Inside the tent, between messy cots and scuffed dirt, is something that might be half a deer. The closed tent flap has mostly kept the flies away for now, but it kept more of the smell in, too.

"Do you know any priests we can fetch then?" Lorion quips at Gamil's remark, a slight smirk taking shape across his face. "If we want to sabotage this place, maybe we should clean it for them. That'll throw them for a loop." With a wave of his hand, Lorion cleans the bloodstains from the nearest tent, chuckling at the results. Those demons should be thanking me for helping to clean up this filth.

Mechanics

[SHOW]

PRESTIDIGITATION to clean yo

Grozzuk gagged slightly, bowing his head. He continued moving forward, being more careful as he approaches another tent, instead using his sword to shift open the entrance enough to peek in, rather than shoving his head into whatever horrors may be inside.

Grozzuk finds this tent less noxious, and standing out among the light debris is a small journal. Inside, a rough hand details a number of petty slights the owner has suffered from their peers, along with creative musings of revenge.

Gamil checks a number of tents, and turns up similarly lackluster results. A few grisly trophies might provide info on where the demons have been raiding, if Gamil wanted to touch them. There is some armor polish that smells like it might help get a fire going.

Lorion uses his magic on one of the tents, cleaning a swath of the canvas of its bloodstains. A light tan is revealed underneath.

While the others search, Cinder wanders around a bit, looking for one of the smaller tents before nervously peeking her head in. She keeps her branch at the ready, should anything pop out to attack.

Cinder checks the final tent in the demonic camp. Inside are a few bloodstains, and almost one third of a deer.

Damocles pokes sourly at the patch of tent Lorion cleaned. "I didn't expect to find much out here, but it's still a disappointment. I'd say torch the tents, but if we get anything from the tower, it'd only tip them off that we were here." The tiefling hesitates a moment, distaste on his face. "Do we want to check the tower?"

Grozzuk steps back out, taking a look around. "Yes, we should take a look into the tower, we don't know when we'll get this chance again. I would definitely consider torching the tents, though, if we are able to." He stepped back towards the party, flourishing his greatsword slowly as if it helped him to organize his thoughts. "I would offer to take point, but only if Lorion or Cinder walked with me, to keep an eye out for ... magic." Even just saying magic left him with a bit of a shudder.

Taking the armor polish, Gamil picks through the trophies without a complaint. Where are they gaining their supplies from? Certainly not the land. Their mere presence expunges life from the ground.

Lorion nods in agreement with Damocles, not keen on staying behind in a useless camp for longer than necessary. Stepping beside the dragonborn, he replies, "Scared of a little magic?" He casts a small shower of sparks before the warrior, chuckling a bit at the man's aversion to magic. "You should get used to it, you know. Demons use an awful lot of magic. This place is drenched in infernal mana."

"Heh, if you're so worried about Magic, why don't you let me take point and you fall in line behind me?" Kharn says to the superstitious Dragonborn. "I ain't a fan of magic myself, but I've taken a fair share of fireballs to the face. I know how to handle it."

As Kharn spoke, he'd look at the camp and stroke his massive beard... mane... thing. "I say we torch the whole damn place after we're done here. Send a message. That message being... uh... 'If you're a demon, we're gonna beat you up and burn your stuff.' Yeah."

Grozzuk, feeling internally threatened by both Kharn and Lorion, spoke up; "I... I can deal with magic just fine." He was fairly sure they weren't trying to be mean to him, but still felt the need to defend his honor. "No, I will take point." He nodded. You can do this, Grozzuk. No puny elf-mage or large dog-man can tell you otherwise. Defeating these Demons will grant you great honor.

Cinder frowns at the site of the carcass. The grotesque nature does not really bother her, she'd seen dead deer plenty of times, but knowing that it was killed by such... monsters made her sad for the creature. She turns to leave the tent and return to the others, catching the tail end of the banter the others are tossing Grozzuk's way.

"So we are going in?" she says, not liking the prospect, but feeling a bit more hopefully of their chances after seeing that the camp is unoccupied. Maybe they are out raiding somewhere, and we will find the place empty.

Grozzuk took a deep breath, and stood proudly; "Alright, my allies. Come, let us take the fight to the Demon Lord, this ends today." He said, trying to inspire the confidence in his allies to move forward. He started to move quickly towards the entrance to the tower without looking back, hoping that the others were following him. I hope this works out. Lady of Glory, give me the strength to carry out this most honorable objective.

demon trophies

[SHOW]

- 2 fingers. The red skin fades to black approaching a sinister black claw at the end of each. They appear to be from the same person.

• 1 copper coin, Orcveldt minted, with a square hole punched in the middle
• 1 left ear. It's green, but too badly torn to be sure whether it came from an orc or goblin.
• 3 torn scraps of silkcloth, 1blue, 1 red, 1 golden
• 1 leg from a stuffed animal
• 1 wooden holy symbol of Lar, badly marred.

Gamil takes a mental note of the trophies as he picks through each of them. Tieflings, perhaps. Orcs, maybe goblinfolk as well. He holds up the stuffed animal. Even children are subject to Balfour's wrath.

The goblin tosses them back to the ground, pouring the armor polish all over the inside and outside of this tent. Don't seem like these demons are interested in makin' friends with any of those that walk this land. He heads out to regroup with the others.

"Ready to burn whenever. Might be best to do so on our way out of this shit-hole," he tells Cinder and Damocles in particular. Blades at the ready, Gamil trails the others as they enter the tower.

The party enters the tower, Grozzuk at the van, Damocles guarding the rear. The first floor is one room, with a huge, thronelike chair at the far end. The rest is nearly empty, seemingly in deference for the chair and who sits in it. Black banners line the walls, alternating between ones with a laughing, fanged face for the insignia, and ones with a spiked whip that has many tails. Light comes up from the floor, along the edges of the walls, almost making a full circle.

As you take it in, you hear a slam behind you. Turning to look, you see Damocles closing the heavy double doors with both hands, shining bands at the bottoms of the doors complete the circle of light. That's when you see him. Waiting patiently, on a platform above the door, is a demon who can only be Balfour.

Demon Lord Balfour

[SHOW]

ooc

[SHOW]

Pausing for brief responses, no extensive actions, please

"No..." Cinder says, barely audibly, as she witnesses her friend - or who she thought was her friend, shutting the door, presumably trapping the group inside the tower with the beast above them. How could I not have seen it? Was he under the demon's control all this time? Will I succumb to it as well? Thoughts race through her head and her knees become a bit weak, as she grips her branch even more tightly than before. She looks up to the demon above them, fear and worry painting her face.

Mechanics

[SHOW]

Insight to see if her fears are a reality, re: Damocles: 14

Even as you see him, the huge demon is already completing a gesture with one of his swords. The lights flare, and noxious purple fumes seep up from cracks in the floor. Swiftly, they form into the rough shape of hands, and seize the party by the wrists and ankles, pulling everyone to their knees.

"Hahaha, You have done well, aspirant."

The fiend's voice reverberates horridly through your skulls.

"For finding these would-be troublemakers and bringing them to me, you will have your gift. But first, you must unwrap it."

"Thank you, my Lord." Damocles says, approaching the party and drawing his blade. He slits Kharn's throat, then Grozzuk's. "Your strength failed you, in the end." he says, as he kills them.

Next he picks Lorion. "You were too concerned with hiding yourself to see what others were hiding." he says darkly, then slits the mage's throat.

He walks over to Cinder. "I found my path to purity after all." he says with a chuckle, clearly getting into it. Then he cuts into the dryad cruelly.

He approaches Gamil. "Don't feel bad. Soon the corruption in your kingdom will be gone for good."

And after a moment, only demons are left in the Tower.

Gasping, the party members awaken in their beds. They remember the events vividly, as thought it had just happened. But of course, it could not have. The five were staying overnight in Rhapsody, a small village near the banks of a river not far from the Academy. There had been rumors of strange happenings in the area, and they had gone to investigate.

Gamil's brow furrows as Damocles closes the double-doors, smelling the funk of a set-up but refusing to believe it until too late. What is this?

His jaws clench, trying desperately to slip free from the demonic grip, but to no avail. I should have sniffed this out. I could have, he scolds himself. I could have. The goblin can only float helplessly as his former captain, role model, and friend slits the necks of each of his allies in turn.

Gamil thinks of Cankerstack, its streets so dim and dangerous. He thinks of his travels above-ground, grit-filled and fueled by his own drive for survival. He thinks many thoughs in his final moments, though the last to cross his mind burns the hottest. I will find him. Gamil stares as Damocles approaches, blade in hand. If there is an afterlife, I will find him. And I will make him pay for this.

Pain. Shock. A surge of crimson. And then nothing.

Grozzuk awoke violently, shaking and looking around, almost falling out of bed as he grasped at his throat. The dream had been a little too real for his liking. He carefully slid out of bed and dropped to his knees, trying to catch his breath. "Oh Lady of Glory, please forgive my faults. I pray to thee for the strength to attain glory and to defend my friends. Oh Lady of Glory..." He whispered, and repeated it in mantra for several extended moments. This was a somewhat normal morning ritual for himself, but he was much more fearful now with his voice quivering, being physically shaken by the dream he just had. He was unsure if the others had had it as well, nor did he notice the absence of Damocles.

Cinder jolts up, her whole body covered in sweat and her eyes wide. Was it really all just a dream? The events of the dream seemed so real to her, but now that she is awake she is torn. She has vague memories of the tiefling who betrayed them - Damocles - but could not quite place him, or even whether or not he was someone she'd met before, or just someone she'd heard about or read of.

She looks around, seeing the others in a similar state of distress as herself, and her worry only deepens. "Did you awaken from a bad dream?" she asks the others, feeling she already knows the answer. "A dream where you died?"

Grozzuk

[SHOW]

Your prayers help calm your nerves a bit, as does finding your throat unslashed, but you can't seem to entire shake your feelings.

Cinder

[SHOW]

You try to place Damocles in your mind, but while the dream is clear, you can recall no other memories of him.

Lorion's eyes shoot open as he glances around the room in a panic and a daze, a cold sweat glistening on his skin. That couldn't have just been a dream, right? It was all too real. The smells, the sights. He shakes his head and wracks his brain, not one to be fooled easily by a mere illusion. Looking around the room at his companions, he notices the absence of the tiefling who had betrayed them, though he holds no recollection of the man.

At his dryad friend's words, he replies, "You too? That was no normal dream though. I've never felt anything like it." What if this is all just an illusion right now?

Mechanics

[SHOW]

Arcana to detect any magic present: 4(1d20) +15 = 19

Insight to see through any potential illusions: 6(1d20) +11 = 17

Lorion

[SHOW]

Arcana: You sense the minor magic aura of Cinder, a familiar feeling. Nothing unusual.

Insght: Everything seems real enough. You don't see any signs of illusion.

"I will find him!" Gamil shouts himself awake. His eyes snap open and it takes him several seconds to remember where he is. Find who? He puts a pair of fingers to his throat, tracing the line that he swears he felt not a moment ago.

Sitting up, the goblin surveys the room before him. "Looks like it," he fires back to Lorion, still dazed from the experience.

Mechanics

[SHOW]

Does Gamil recognize where he is?