Modern Necromancy Quest Redux: Thread Thirteen

You should go give him a mostly-accurate idea of where you’re going to be for the evening. No sense letting him worry about you when there may or may not be a homicidal maniac on the loose in the vicinity. So you quickly rush in the back door, stashing the grimoire and wine in your room, the sardines circling around you like tiny blue comets. Evidence of your less-than-admirable hobby hidden away, you go unlock the front door, swinging it open. Dad looks up from fumbling with his keys and flashes you a grin.

“Hey Lizzie! I was afraid you were locked up in your room with your headphones on, or just sleeping the day away. Speaking of, your Mom had me schedule a doctor’s appointment for you to get looked at. That concussion of yours may have been minor, but it never hurts to be sure. Heard a story the other day about some guy got bonked on the head, died of a stroke two days later when a bloodclot broke loose and hit his heart.”
As he speaks, he comes inside, Andrew trailing behind and Olivia immediately heading upstairs to her room, texting as she goes. Your Dad goes for the kitchen and opens up the fridge, peering inside.

“Looks like it’ll probably be leftovers tonight. We’ve got some of that meatloaf you liked, Liz, and Olivia’s pasta thing from the other night. Some porkchops and mashed potatoes sound good to you, Andy?”
Andrew makes some noise of assent, too busy trying to sneak a rootbeer from the fridge door to give his dinner much thought. You smile gently—you feel like it’s been too long since you really talked with your Dad. You and your Mom have always gotten along, of course, and you love her, but you and Dad seem like peas in a pod. Unfortunately, you don’t really have time for reheated meatloaf tonight…

“Sorry Dad, I was gonna head out pretty shortly.” He looks momentarily put-out, then smiles again.

“Well well, aren’t you a popular one recently? Where you headed? Gonna need the car?”
You decide against telling him just how un-popular you’re likely to be after the events of last night. Felix hasn’t so much as texted you since then, and you doubt he’d answer if you made the first move.
cont.

File: Museum.jpg (437KB, 920x520px) Image search: [Google]

437KB, 920x520px

>>1086104
“The Natural History Museum in Portland. They’re doing a special event on...whales.” Of course, you doubt this is actually the case, but you need some kind of explanation as to why they’re open so late. “I could use the car, actually. Do you mind if I borrow it?”
Your Dad shakes his head, then pauses.
“I might ask you to pick something up from the store on the way home, but it shouldn’t be an issue. I’d suggest Andrew go with you, but I think he’s pretty hungry and I don’t want to make you late.”
You breathe a sigh of relief—if Andrew had wanted to tag along, it would have complicated things...a lot.

You sneak a largish fish-stick from the fridge when your Dad turns away, and head back to your room to pack. The fish-stick should be a workable offering for the sardines, and you’re pretty sure the concurrent summons can receive offerings at the same time as well. You toss libation, the two offerings, a flashlight, your wallet, and a pocket knife into your bag. After a moment’s deliberation, you also put in a bandana and a baseball cap. You plan on avoiding any cameras, but best to be careful.

Some black jeans and a tanktop later, and you’re ready to go. You grab a sweatshirt, figuring the museum might be air-conditioned, and hop in the car.

28 minutes later, you’re at the museum. It’s an imposing structure, and better lit than you’d have hoped. Time to decide how to do this.

>Smash and grab. Do some quick recon to figure out your route, then run in and grab the scroll from the basement, before booking it out. The less time you spend in there, the less time for something to go wrong.
>Sneaky Beaky. Take your time, scope the place out. You have as much time as you need, so use it. Fate favours the prepared, so see what you’re up against before you go charging in.
>Aggressive. You might not be so big, but you’ve got six ghostly summons that can all make some serious noise. Go in looking as harmless as possible, then take out whoever comes to give you trouble.

>>1086107
>Sneaky Beaky. Take your time, scope the place out. You have as much time as you need, so use it. Fate favours the prepared, so see what you’re up against before you go charging in.

>>1086107
>>Sneaky Beaky.
Also, 'ello Skelly

>>1086150
>>1086130
Writing now.

You’re at a disadvantage here. You’re probably physically weaker than anybody guarding this place, and you don’t know the layout. Your advantage is your magic, and the fact that they don’t know you’re coming. You plan to use both of these to the fullest. That means maintaining your element of surprise for as long as humanly possible.

So you circle the building. The back has a garden attached to it, with a hedge maze that’s terribly popular with tourists, and some outdoor seating for the cafe attached to the museum. The garden’s enclosed by a tall wrought-iron fence, primarily decorative. That said, it’s still pretty damned secure. At the back, tucked in a corner are a pair of wrought-iron gates probably meant as a service entrance, secured by a padlock and a length of thick chain.

You don’t see anyone patrolling the back garden, which would suggest that there’s additional security between it and the rest of the museum. At least a few more locked doors and some alarms, for sure. On the opposite side of the building, you find a service entrance to the building itself, though this is just as locked. It also has a small sticker on it that declares it as having some sort of break-in deterrent, though what that is you’re not sure.

In the alleyway, you see a manhole cover, the corner of it poking up out of its slot. To your surprise it’s loose, though quite heavy. You wonder why, and suddenly remember something about the museum having work done underground recently, something about a load-bearing wall not having solid foundations due to sewage pipes…? You’re really not sure, but it might be worth a shot. Who’d expect you to go in from that angle, after all?

You lean back against a wall trying to seem inconspicuous and chew your thumbnail, trying to decide…

>Garden service gate, it’ll get you off the street and give you a chance to examine the back of the building.
>Alley service door. You can find a way to deal with the alarm or whatever it is, you’re sure of that much.
>Manhole. It might be a long shot, but if it works? You’ll be in and out before they even know someone’s there!
>write-in (encouraged, minor questions about the museum, that Liz knows the answer to, will be answered)

>>1086295
>Send our fish troops to explore every possible entrance
They'll advance like this:
Each Agent moves 2 meters forward indiviually before the next one moves. When all the Agents have advanced, General catches up with them.
If any of them gets dispelled all will come right back to us and inform us.

Cat will serve as our lookout while we go buy a soda and try to appear as incospicuous as we can as we wait for General's report


Question: Can't we just walk in? Is the museum closed?

>>1086352
The museum is, in fact, closed. It's a weekday in summer, so there's not a huge amount of traffic and their hours are shortened.

>>1086384
Oh boy, why did we lie to the dadster? Now we are going to have to explain this if he finds out.

>>1086352
Supporting this. The key to a successful small-time break in is to play it cool and act like there's nothing wrong with you being there until it's pointed out that you're not supposed to be there.

Ideally, I'd rather one of the sardines opens the front door, then we just walk in and wander like a normal walk-in until we find what we're here for.

>>1086405
I have a better idea now.
Get a can of cheap beer instead of the soda. Make gargles with some of it, maybe a few drops in our clothes. Dump the rest of the contents but keep the can around.

That way we can feign drunkess if worst comes to worst

>>1086422
Liz is 18, and underage drinking happens anywhere BUT in public. If we get caught walking into a building that was supposed to be locked, we'll probably just be asked to leave, or briefly questioned by an officer and dismissed with no further consequences; if someone catches us covered in beer and holding a bottle, we're almost guaranteed to be arrested.

>>1086405
>>1086352
Writing.

>>1086440
Oh right, drinking age is 18 there. Nevermind.
Do you think i am in some sort of list for all of my inquiries about legal matters concerning "minors" in Maine?

>>1086480
We're on 4chan. I'm pretty sure all of us are on several lists.

It’s time to enlist the sardines. You brought them here for a reason, so you might as well use them. Until now, they’ve been following behind you, more or less in formation and waiting for orders.

“General, I have something for you.” You say softly, bending your head towards the ground. It’s not exactly crowded on a weekday evening, but it’s hardly deserted and you’d feel awkward talking to yourself with an audience. “Disperse your men, send them to every available entrance including the ones we just looked at, okay? Have each one move forward, one at a time, while you go back and forth between them. If anything goes wrong or somebody disappears, all of you come back to me right away. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am!”
If a sardine’s ghost could click its heels, you’re sure this would be the moment. The General darts over to his agents, and after a few moments of silence, they immediately disperse. Not wanting to be too out of place, you walk over to a store down the street. It’s one of the artisanal bakeries that seems to pop up like mushrooms after a rain in Portland, but you content yourself with an orange soda from the vending machine.

Though you drink slowly, you’re more than halfway through by the time the General returns, without his men.

“I have a report, ma’am!

“The garden back gate leads to a set of double-doors that lead into a large room directly behind the main foyer of the museum. The doors are locked and alarmed, and two men with flashlights and non-lethal weapons are in that room, with three more in the foyer, clustered around the information center. Through the service entrance is a stairwell, with stairs leading both up and down. We believe the stairs lead down to the basement, but there’s something wrong with the door leading out of the stairwell in that direction, and I held my agent back to be safe. There are a number of cameras in the stairwell, but I don’t think it likely that they’re constantly monitored. Men occasionally come through the stairwell, but not at regular intervals.

Two of my agents went into the manhole. It’s a maze, but there is a drainage pipe for the emergency showers that you might be able to fit in. There don’t appear to be any men in the maintenance tunnels, but...there may be a creature of some sort. My agent was unspecific. The same issue with the door from the stairwell applies to the tunnel.

In addition, there’s a ventilation shaft on the roof. It’s only lightly secured, and leads down to the basement. However, it is a vertical shaft, and if you got down, I don’t believe you would be able to get back up.”
He floats there expectantly, and you murmur a thank-you, which seems to please him.

>Ask him a question about what he or his agents saw
>Decide on an entry point
>write-in

>>1086584
Ask if any of his agents saw any kind of resistance of the magic variety. Like Wards.

Ask him to double down on this unspecified creature It might make for a good servant
Also to check the stairwell throughly, we might use that as an entrance.
If he and his men can memorize a layout of the place and where the cameras are, we should be fine.

I am to assume that our shades won't be able to recognize the scroll themselves.

also
>Finish the drink

>>1086649
Writing.
For the record, I will be running 'til 11 or a little earlier tonight.

“General, did you or any of your agents see any sort of magical defense, like a ward?” You speak quietly, waiting until the nearest person's passed out of earshot.
He seems to deliberate for a moment before answering.

“Around two of the guards, yes. They were wearing different uniforms than the other guards as well. Also, I suspect that the basement had some sort of ward on it from the appearance of the door, though I can’t be sure. It looked different than the wards on the guards.”
Hmm, that’s interesting. You wish you’d read more of Ulysses’ grimoire, but there’s nothing to be done for it now. The fact that it looked different could mean anything, and you don’t know what.

“What was that about a creature in the tunnels? Was it there, or was it not? Give me a straight answer, now.”
Again, the General hesitates, but this time it seems almost painful for him. Finally, he answers.

“I would say yes, ma’am. I don’t know what it was, but my men aren’t likely to see something that isn’t there. The impression that I got from him was that it was rather bloblike, but by the time I got to him and he could move again, it had left. I didn’t think it prudent to spend time chasing it down.”

“Fair enough. I’ll keep an eye out for that one...”
Your thoughts wander to the purplish blob of jelly that Nereus pointed out to you back at the Unseelie Court. Could it be him? Or a relative of some kind, perhaps?

“Please double-check the stairwell General, that may be my point of entry.”
The fish-spirit nods and disappears. You finish the drink in a few deep swallows, and he returns.

“There is a way to enter without being picked up on camera. However, there is still the possibility of someone entering the stairwell and hearing you, though my men and I can stay on lookout. There is a single sensor wire attached to the alarm system that we’ve been able to locate, but we don’t know if cutting it will trigger the alarm regardless.”
That is problematic. You’d prefer to do this without causing any ruckus, but it seems like there’s no way to know for certain what will trigger the alarm. You have the thought that, ideally, you’d have a plan that could benefit from either the alarm going off, or being disarmed, but that seems rather far-fetched.

What now?
>Go investigate the door, cut the wire
>Go investigate the door, have the sardines keep the wire from being cut
>Ask the General something else
>write-in

>>1086785
>Go investigate the door, have the sardines keep the wire from being cut
Time to go in.
Keep having cat as a lookout and ask him what he thinks of it. i could do with some sass

>>1086785
>Go investigate the door, have the sardines keep the wire from being cut
>Ask one of the sardines to see what the wire leads to

>>1086801
>>1086813
Roll 2d20, best of three, crits take precedence.

Rolled 11, 19 = 30 (2d20)

>>1086851
WITH SARDINE TREAD

Rolled 5, 12 = 17 (2d20)

>>1086851
Fishing for 20's

>>1086873
>>1086855
Writing.

“Okay, General, when I open the door, I want one of your men to keep the wire from being cut, okay?”
He nods at once, accepting your orders without comment. You wish you could be quite so confident in your plans as he seems to be. Cat’s been sitting on the bench beside you, listening in to all of this and looking rather amused.

“A positively military operation, my lady. Ready to ‘go over the top’?”
You tell yourself that you don’t quip back because there’s a young couple walking past, but really you’re not sure you could have come up with something quickly enough.

Leaving it at that, you check both ways and jog across the street, tossing the soda bottle into a conveniently located trashcan and ducking into the alley. The General’s waiting in front of the door, and you can see the outlines of two of his men just poking through the door.

“Two are on the wire, and two more in the stairwell ma’am. They should give warning if someone enters. Now, to avoid the camera, you have to flatten yourself against the wall and immediately move down the stairs. They might get a glimpse of your shoulder, but that’ll be it.”

You nod, and gesture for the General to unlock the door. He flits into the knob and after a moment, you hear a click and he floats back out, looking much less solid than before.

You pull open the door, going as slowly as possible and giving yourself as small an opening as possible, hopefully giving the agents on top of the door the best chance possible to hold that wire together. You slip through, but at the last minute your boot catches on the closing door. You trip and sprawl forward, hitting the concrete floor of the stairs. Just as this happens, you hear a warning from one of the agents. To your surprise, he has a faintly upper-class British accent.

“First floor door opening, General!”
From your awkward position on the floor, in full view of the camera, you can see the red door start to open on the landing just above you. Panicking, you scramble up, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Thankfully, the guard doesn’t seem to hear you, and you start to crawl down the stairs, as slowly and silently as you can possibly manage. Each inch takes you farther out of his possible field of view, and before you know it you’re at the bottom of the stairs.

The door to the basement is recessed into the wall, giving you a last-ditch hiding spot just in case somebody comes down here. If they were just on the landing you came from, you might not be seen, but that’s about it. You examine the door as closely as you dare, but don’t see anything that might indicate a ward or other spell applied to it.

>Ask Cat to touch it. If it is a ward, he’s bigger, stronger, and less likely to dissipate when he hits it.
>Ask one of the sardines to touch it. It’s kind of mean, but they’re more or less disposable for this mission.
>Ask Cat if the ward is still there, what he sees.

>>1086992
>Ask cat if the ward is there, if he can't see it ask agent 3 to pass through first

For the record
Cat- Full energy
General- Half energy
Agent 1- Half energy
Agent 2- Half energy
Agent 3- Full energy
Agent 4- Full energy

>>1086992
>Ask Cat if the ward is still there, and what he sees
If the ward can't be seen,
>Have Agent 1 attempt to touch it
We brought an offering for them for this exact reason

Lets ask cat if a ward is there

>>1087008
>>1087028
>>1087036
Writing.

I say that we call the general "General Custard" or Custard for short

“Okay, Cat, do you see anything on the door? I’m not catching anything.”
He floats closer, almost touching it, and squints.

“Yes, there’s something here, but it’s quite fine. If it is a ward, it’s a strange one. It’s nothing like the one you created, or the ones Argus had when we saw him at the library.”
Odd, to say the least. Some kind of ward not like the ones you’ve seen in the past, and you’ve got no idea what it does. Best to take a chance, you suppose.

“Agent 3, do you mind taking point?” You ask. He’d switched places with the partially-depleted Agent 2, who was now watching the second-floor doorway into the stairwell. His reply comes in a quite deep voice, unaccented but rough.

“Roger. Wish me luck.”
With that, he dives forward. Suddenly, the not-ward springs to life. Almost-invisible threads snap tight around Agent 3...and pass right through him, leaving him confused but unharmed. You breathe a sigh of relief, when suddenly you hear a warning from Agent 4 from the first floor landing. His voice is surprisingly high, and it cracks just a little.

“The two guards with wards are coming this way, and they’re fast!”

You freeze, trying to think. You could try to hide in the alcove of the door, but if triggering the trap on the door was what brought them, that won’t do any good. You could try to beat them up the stairwell and run back out into the alley. You doubt they’d look far outside the museum, and if they did you might even have a chance to slip back in behind them.

Then again, you could press forward. Have Agent 3 unlock the door and try to hide in the basement. You’re not sure, but you get the sense that it’s not exactly an organized space, and with all the artifacts not being exhibited down there, you’re sure you could find someplace to hide.

So what do you do?
>Press back in the alcove.
>Run back up the stairs and out the service door.
>Have Agent 3 unlock the basement door and try to hide in there.

I say that we press back up in the alcove

>>1087116
Have agent 1 and 2 give the guards the heebies jeebies to buy us some time. Then press forward

>>1087116
>Have Agent 3 unlock the basement door and try and hide in there
>Have the rest of the platoon harass the guards

>>1087116
>Have Agent 3 unlock the basement door and try to hide in there.

>>1087168
>>1087145
>>1087136
Writing.

Last post of the night, gents. See you on Thursday, and have a lovely night.

“Agent three, unlock the door, now!” you hiss, and he springs into action, throwing himself into the lock. After a heart-pounding moment, the door clicks open, at the same time the guards burst into the stairwell. You point in their direction and draw a hand across your throat, and the sardine squad seems to get the picture. They shoot towards the two guards and before the basement door shuts, you hear shouts of confusion. Good soldiers.

Cat follows you into the pitch-black basement, and you rummage for a light. As nice as Cat’s glow is, it’s not really enough to see by. As you dig around in your bag you hear something. A flapping sound, the sound of beating wings, muffled and muted almost beyond audibility. You freeze, listening and hearing nothing but your own thudding heartbeat, hammering away in your chest. You start to move and again hear that almost-silent flapping, that dies away nearly instantly when you stop moving. Your mouth suddenly feels dry, and you give up your search for the flashlight.

Desperately, you feel around in the semi-darkness and manage to find a tarp thrown over two crates, with a small space between. You wedge yourself as far back into it as you can manage, praying it’s enough. A few seconds later, the basement door bangs open and the two guards rush in. After a moment, they speak.

“Should I hit the lights?”

“Nah, I put Strega down here earlier, told it to kill or capture anybody it didn’t recognize when they came in. If it’s dark, they don’t have a chance in hell. I say we just come back later, let it do the work for us.”

“I hate Strega.”

“That’s just because it’s not a pushover like everybody else you ever talked to. Now look, would you rather spend an hour sweeping corners in this Indiana Jone’s warehouse shit, or just wait upstairs and have some coffee.”

“...fine. Let’s go.”

After another few seconds, you hear the door slam shut, and the sound of a key in the lock. That doesn’t bode well. The sardines start to filter in through the door behind the General, all of them a bit worse for wear. Agent 1 appears to have been de-summoned, but all the rest are just at half power, flickering and weak.

So what now?
>Stay where you are and wait. Whatever ‘Strega’ is, you’re not going bumbling around in the dark trying to find it. Make it come to you.
>Try to find and turn on the lights, increase your chances against whatever the thing they’re talking about is.
>Screw this. Find the scroll and get out. This Strega thing is probably mindgames, or a boobytrap or something, and you’re letting them get to you. Don’t believe a word of it.

>>1087231
>Stay where you are and wait. Whatever ‘Strega’ is, you’re not going bumbling around in the dark trying to find it. Make it come to you.

I'm gonna guess Strega was that imp guy we met before, since he technically "recognizes" us, but I don't wanna push it.

>>1087231
>Try to find and turn on the lights, increase your chances against whatever the thing they’re talking about is.

Divide the fish stick in 3 pieces and use it to recharge the remaining squad

Since we are here, we should also look out for a small fossil or two. Something we can carry.

>>1087231
>Ask the platoon to sweep the basement for threats and identify Strega
>Extract self from boxes and administer offering to sardines

Thanks for running, Skelly!

I think we should try and turn on the lights

Running tonight at 7:00 or so, depending. I'll update you if things change. See you then!

Running in a bit more than half an hour! Get hype!

You wait, trying to keep your breathing measured, until you’re sure the guards are gone. Legs cramping, you clamber out of your temporary hidey-hole, standing upright. First priority is lights. If this Strega thing does best in the dark, the best strategy is to get rid of the dark. So you walk forward slowly, shuffling forward by the flickering light of the shades, until you can just make out the outline of the door ahead of you—and next to it, a row of light switches!

Sighing in relief, you take two quick steps towards it. The next thing you know, you’re on the ground, all the air knocked out of you. You suck in a painful breath, arms wrapped around your aching sternum, and roll onto your back. Your eyes dart from side to side, desperately attempting to find whatever it was that hit you. All you felt was the impact, and something brushing your cheek, something soft and feathery. Dammit, that must be the Strega thing they were talking about...is it attacking at random? You have to get to the light switch!

You scramble up, and try again to flip one, any one of the switches, only a few feet away. Your attempt meets with the same result as last time, this time your legs swept out from under you, your tailbone bruised time instead of your chest. Lying on the floor, you decide the switches are out of the question for the time being. Regroup, and power up the shades.

A burned fish stick later, and the four remaining sardines are looking remarkably improved. Their light is brighter now, casting a slightly larger circle of light around you. Everything is silent again, oppressively so, like a humid summer day before the first crack of thunder.

Leaning against a crate, ears and eyes straining in the darkness, you try to figure out some course of action.

>Leave the basement. You’re really not prepared for this. You might not get the ‘present’ Oberon has for you, but it’s a hell of a lot better than dying in some godforsaken museum, or worse yet getting put in the hands of those guards.
>Wait, and listen. Try to adjust to the darkness, to figure out what the hell it is that’s attacking you. Once you know that, you might be able to beat the fucking thing.
>Order the sardines and/or Cat to do something.
>write-in (encouraged)

>>1092904
>Order all sardines to sweep the basement and identify Strega
>Order Agent 3 to flip the light switch closest to the door after the sweep

Order sardines to stick near to strega to illuminate it with Their glow, ask cat to look around for something useful like a weapon or a place to hide. Take out your pocket knife.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>1092947
>>1092972
Rolling 1d2 to decide.
>>1092947
is 1
>>1092972
Is 2

“Okay, Agents, find whatever this Strega is and stick close to it. Get as bright as you can, illuminate it. Cat, go find a weapon, a hiding spot, something!” You dig into your bag, pulling out your pocket knife and unfolding the blade. It’s not much, and you feel a little silly holding it, but it’s better than nothing.
For once, Cat doesn’t bother making some witty remark, instead streaking around the basement, doing as you commanded. As he moves, you start to get a sense of the size of the room...it’s gigantic. At least half of the museum’s size, littered with crates and the remains of exhibitions, all laid out in a vague sort of grid pattern.

The sardines return at once, the General speaking at once.
“M-my apologies, ma’am. We can’t find it. We swept the whole basement, but every time we thought we were close it just faded away. Agent 2 managed to get a pretty good look at it, though. Said it looked like some kind of bird.”

You curse loudly, backing up until you feel your backpack pressing up against one of the crates. So it can fly, see in the dark, and your shades can’t even keep up with it. That means magic. Shit. As you sit there, desperately trying to come up with some way to counter the thing, Cat returns.

“My lady. There are a number of spears and axes in the far left corner, but I’m unsure of their worthiness. The Egyptian collection is in the opposite direction, around the middle right of the room. I believe that is where Oberon told you the scroll would be.”

What now?
>Run for the scroll. If you go fast, you might be able to make it there while this creature is still just playing.
>Head for the weapons. You need a way to deal with this thing, and they might give you the edge you need.
>Ask the shades to do something else.
>Write-in

>>1093119
>Ask the shades to do something else.
Any of the agents should go and find the light switches

Ask cat to look for something we can use as a shield and a blunt weapon. We don't have the finesse to use something that requires edge alignment

Try and look for a wedge between the boxes so Strega can only attack us from limited angles. Have the remaining shades to be near us and be our eyes while we try to fende off Strega with our knife from the wedge

>>1093269
Roll 2d20, best of three, crits take precedence.

Rolled 13, 18 = 31 (2d20)

>>1093290

>>1093295
Writing.

“Okay, um...Agent Three, go flick one of the switches, the one closest to the door, okay? If it looks like one of them turns on all the lights, use that one.”
The fish-spirit nods and zips off, a streak of blue light against the darkness.

“Cat, go find me a blunt weapon and maybe a shield. I don’t think an edged weapon would be any good to me right now.”
Without another word, he tears off, a trail of blue lights dancing in his wake. Fumbling around, you manage to force apart two crates, creating a gap into which you can squeeze. You cram yourself in, holding the knife out in front of you. It’s not much of a defense, but it’ll have to do for now.

From a few rows down, you hear a faint “click”, and the light just next door snaps on. It’s florescent hum is perhaps the most comforting thing you’ve heard in a long time. Just as you star to slide out of your hiding spot, you see it. The Strega.
Agent 2 was right about it. It’s an owl. A massive owl, its silvery talons clicking on the concrete floor as it swoops down silently, landing on the edge of the circle of light. It takes a few awkward hops forward, peering into the illuminated jumble of crates. Its eyes are like holes, pure darkness without even the ghost of a reflection. Shadow seems to drip from it, like water off a damp rag as it sits there, tilting its head to and fro. You catch a glimpse of something metallic on its head, like...a crown?

It seems focused on the one small section that’s still lit, though apparently unwilling or unable to enter into it. Cat reappears, freezing when he sees the creature. After another few moments the bird shrieks, a shrill call that tears through you. Beating its wings with that terrible aching silence, it lifts into the air and disappears completely. Moments later, the light crashes to the ground, the wires suspending it severed. Its tube smashes on the floor, fragments spilling across the concrete.

“My lady,” begins Cat, actually sounding shaken for once. “There...there is a World War I exhibit three or four rows over with improvised weapons that may suit your needs. I do not know that attempting to retrieve the weapons is a good idea at this time.”

Agent 3 returns, flickering again, and seemingly put-out that his work was for naught.

>Make a run for the weapons
>stay hidden
>Make a run for the Egypt exhibit
>Ask the shades to do something
>write-in

>>1093401
>Stay hidden
>Thank Agent 3 for discovering that the Strega will destroy lights
>Ask Cat and the Agents if they have any ideas on what this thing is and how to get the scroll
>Check phone for signal

>>1093432
Writing.

Though you agree with Cat, you try to stay positive.

“No, Agent 3, this is good. Without you, we wouldn’t have known that it could smash lights. The first step here is learning what the hell this thing is. Then we can figure out a way to beat it. Speaking of, do any of you have any insights?”
They’re silent for a moment, then Cat speaks.

“It would appear to be some kind of demon, likely making at least one of the guards a warlock. I do not know if incapacitating him would banish it, but it seems likely.”

“I, um, I don’t know...” Agent 4 speaks up, then trails off, seeming uncertain. “It seemed like it couldn’t really see in the light that well. It didn’t want to go into the light at all.”
You nod, thinking. You’d noticed that, of course, but hadn’t thought about it. The flashlight in your bag could prove a valuable weapon, assuming you can get close enough to use it.

The scroll is too far away to run to, this thing is incredibly fast, and it seems willing to destroy the lights...but hasn’t smashed any of the other fluorescents yet. Odd. You dig in your pocket for your phone, wondering if you have a signal. You doubt Argus would agree to help you out in this kind of situation, considering who you’re working for, but there’s always a chance.

No luck. No service in the basement is hardly a surprise, but it is a pain. You realize a second too late that the glow of your phone might give you away, hearing that nearly-inaudible sound of air rushing over giant wings. You drop your phone and tear your flashlight out of your bag, holding your knife out in front of you like a religious medal in the face of the devil.

Your heart is beating so fast you wouldn’t be surprised if the Strega could hear it. Owls have good hearing, don’t they? You’re distracted for a half second by this intrusive thought, and then it’s there. Its feathered, rounded face comes into view, less than a foot away from your own, its eyes shadows within shadows. It slowly opens its beak, your hands damp with sweat hold the shaking flashlight--
“Hello.”
You pause. That wasn’t Cat, or one of the sardines…

>Respond cautiously. If this thing is intelligent like the imp, maybe you can reason with it? Avoiding death would be excellent.
>Respond rudely. Time to be the alpha, make it think you’re more in control than you are.
>Attack. It’s off guard, and while it’s too close for comfort, that’ll only make your flashlight more effective.

>>1093525
>Respond Non-chalantly

so far, the demons we've seen seem to respect crazy people

"S'up Streg, I am the 'brina. Look, i am not here to inconvenience you, i am just looking for a pice of parchment no one will miss, know what i'm saying? In fact, it belongs in a muse- to a friend of mine. So i get the thing, and leave you alone. We cool?"

Do BE prepared to flash the thing in the face if it doesn't looks like it wants to cooperate. Don't take the flashlight out of the bag yet, but have it on hand to pull it out at a moment's notice

>>1093525
>Respond cautiously. If this thing is intelligent like the imp, maybe you can reason with it? Avoiding death would be excellent.
Hello. Please don't kill me?

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>1093575
>>1093564
Rolling 1d2
>>1093564
is 1
>>1093575
is 2

>>1093639
Really, dice?

You take a deep breath, and try to calm down. The imp seemed to be impressed when you weren’t scared. Time to see if the Strega’s the same way.

“’Sup? I hear you’re Strega? Well, I’m Sabrina. Look, I’m not here to make trouble or anything. I just wanted to get a scroll, a little scrap of parchment that belongs to a friend of mine. So what say I go grab that and we can both get out of each other’s hair? Sound good?”
Without a word, the Strega takes a few of those odd little hops, moving backward. You take the opportunity to wipe your hand on your pants and readjust your grip on the flashlight before cautiously moving out of your little crack.

The Strega stands there, head cocked to the side, as though examining you. You feel butterflies. What if it’s not really intelligent? What if you just fell for the equivalent of a parrot shoved up the chimney?

“I do not have hair.” The voice is throaty and a little hoarse, like an opera singer past her prime, and sounds immeasurably tired. “Would that I could let you go, little chickadee, but I have been charged with the capture or murder of any new faces who enter this room. I am promised freedom, for this, though I have no choice either way.”

“Freedom?”

“My name is well known, as are my strengths. No sooner am I released from one jailer’s clutches than another snatches me up. I am tired of this world, this realm not my own. I am promised rest, should I guard this room.”
Huh. Seems like there’s a very different dynamic between you and your summons, and warlocks and theirs. You manged to take advantage of lazy wording with the imp, but this seems like a different situation entirely.

>Give yourself up for capture.
>Try to talk more to the Strega, find a way around this.
>Attack.

>>1093710
>Try to talk more to the Strega, find a way around this.

>It didn't look like he was going to let you go anytime soon. Your job is being a sentry. Being ready whenever needed. Do you think capturing me is going to net you any rest? You are being decieved. When was the last time you were granted "rest"?

>>1093710
>Try to talk more to the Strega, find a way around this.
Could we perhaps ask the Strega if there's any way that we could be captured, and yet leave the room and be on our way tonight? Preferably in a way that benefits us and the Strega.

>>1093710
>>Try to talk more to the Strega, find a way around this.

We are smart young girl who don't need no warlock! We must steal burd!

We steal burd! Take burd, punch warlock, free burd! Go burd good friend!

Or we kill burd, make burd into ghost-skeleton-demon and then set free as dead-ghost-demon-bone-burd to kick Warlock ass.

We gonna go pen-pineapple-apple-pen on this shit!

Burd.. Demon *swoosh* Demon-burd! Ghost...Skeleton *swoosh* Skeleton-ghost! *swoosh* Skeleton-ghost-demon-burd!

>>1093756
>>1093779
Writing.
Will be last post of the evening.

Time to talk. You’re sure you can get through to her, to somehow convince her that you can both win in this situation. Somehow.

“I don’t know about that. It doesn’t look like you’ll be released any time soon. You’re a sentry, aren’t you? You’re needed all the time, constantly guarding this place. When was the last time you got any rest?”

“They...they said they could find someone else. I will rest when this is over. Soon, they say.” Her words are confident, but her tone is defeated, exhausted. “I have not been home in a very long time, Sabrina.”
You bite your lip, hit by a sudden pang of sympathy for the creature that tried to kill you just moments ago.

“Look, there’s gotta be a way to do this. A way for you to capture me, and for me to get what I need. Is there some way you could capture me, then let me go on my way?”
The owl shakes its head slightly.

“No. They are very specific, these ones. When captured, I must hold until the door is opened and some one comes to collect. Then I can let go.” A glimmer of hope shines in her void-black eyes “But you are smart. Perhaps I let you get parchment, call master to collect. You must be kind to master, so long as you are close to me. Master will walk you up stairs. You understand? They will want you alive, yes?”

Seems like Strega is more than willing to cooperate, so long as it means freedom, at least temporarily. In return, it sounds like she wants you to off her summoner, even though she can’t say so. You remind yourself never to mess around with demons.

>Agree to the plan
>Disagree with the plan, suggest something else
>Disagree with the plan, attack
>write-in

>>1093864
Liz has probably never killed a person before, and I doubt she would be able to do so quickly and quietly. I will agree with the plan only if Strega can teach us how to kill and demonstrate to us that the warlock has a net negative influence on the world, even if it is only minorly negative.

Thanks for running tonight, Skelly!

>>1093864
>Is there any other way we could free you? End your servitude? I am a magic user myself, maybe there is something around this basement that can help me with that

>>1093979
Ask her information about the guard and his friend too

>>1093864
What is our full inventory right now?

I'll do my best to run tonight at either 6:30 or 7pm EST. More info this afternoon

7pm it is. See you all then!

Test. I doubt this thread is still bump-able, but...

New thread is up!
>>1114257
>>1114257
>>1114257
Come join the fun!