In Service of the Throne

The Acolytes make their preparations for the grand party. After securing suitable clothing, the group scouts the surrounds of Gabriel Chase and manage to secrete a cache of weapons. Preparations complete they attend under the guise of Lady Arcturus and her retinue.

Wandering through the crowds in the main ballroom, Kadis engages in conversation with the elderly Lord Vipus who is only to happy to furnish her with his extensive knowledge of the Haarlocks. Whilst she is engaged, Rathos and Rowarke do a little scouting. They find the entire mansion odd, but cannot quite put their finger on why. A large obsidian aquila is the first casualty of the evening, singled out for the Acolytes ire because of it’s perceived oddness.

The evening grinds on – Lord Vipus continues to bore Kadis about the Haarlocks. They endure a brief encounter with the impetuous Tarrik Doru. Rathos is briefly swallowed into the maze like structure of the building and recovers a mysterious map. His fellows join him, encountering Lady Obellia who has been seized by a group of cultists. By the time they emerge the events are drawing to a head – the Thirtieth Hour closes.

The Widower reveals himself as the ballroom is thrown into darkness. Party goers fall on each other like ravening animals. Hooded Pilgrims of Hayte emerge from the woodwork to enjoy the carnage. Heron Mask confronts The Widower in front of the Steel Clock. As the two enemies clash, Rowarke seizes the initiative. He charges through the maelstrom and unleashes a mighty swing at the huge pendulum. The blow dislodges the heartstone from its cradle and tosses him toward the churning gears. The Widower bellows in futile rage as his form is undone.

The Heron turns on the interloper, incapacitating him with a barrage of psychic energy. Rathos and Kadis join the fray – Rathos’ thigh is sliced open and Kadis is nearly strangulated. In his blind apocalyptic fury the Heron Mask leaves himself vulnerable and he is eventually cut down. As his lifeblood seeps away across the marble floor, the eclipse passes. The party has become a scene of slaughter, but one that would have been very much worse without the Acolytes’ intervention.



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