Tour de Force
GM: Erik Hanson
Players:
Beth Bartley: Liliana Scarpelli: 15 year old Genoese noble seeking to marry into the Sforza family of Florence.
Joshua Kronengold: Ipolitto Sforza, a 12 year old noble
Lisa Padol: Roggerio, a musician and ex-diabolist with an unwanted, but not entirely undeserved, reputation for intrigue, in Ipolitto's service
Lee Painton: Vincent di Giovanni, Venitian nobleman and Necromancer, spying for the Sforza while trying to take over the Florentine criminal underworld.
David Siegel: Jebril, displaced Moorish architect with a talent for geomancy, in the service of the Sforza family.
Matt Stevens: Rafael Marancini, Jewish Cabalist and advisor to Ipolitto.
Rachael Tang: Bella Ziani, midwife and visionary, plagued by spirits of the dead.
Lee and Rachael missed the session, so Vincent and Bella stayed in Florence.
Prominent NPCs:
Sebastiano Sforza: Ipolitto's uncle, head of the family, Duke of Florence. He recently discovered he has a living son.
Duke Ferdinand Coranzon VIII: Spanish noble, raconteur, and gambler.
Quillmaster: He serves Duke Coranzon, writing down -everything- that transpires around him in complete detail.
To Duke Sebastiano Sforza of Florence
My lord, we are heading for the monastery where your son is, having first helped Duke Ferdinand and his Quillmaster solve a conundrum involving a tower on his lands.
The tower was haunted, and no one who had entered it before we did had survived. The Quillmaster was quite frank on this point, just as he was frank that information about the tower and its library was the price for the information we sought.
All of us save Jebril entered in the morning, the architect still recovering from a malady. Your nephew, Rafael, and myself were each granted a vision of myself being guided by a Moorish woman to a noose hanging from the chandelier. When the vision passed, Lord Ipolitto ordered that the chandelier be lowered to prevent the events we witnessed from coming to pass.
We attempted to do as he bid, but it was as if the chain of the chandelier had a life of its own. It wrapped itself around Lady Liliana's throat, pulling her into the air. Only your nephew's quick wits saved her, as he realized that he alone was light enough to climb up the chain and unwrap it from her throat. Ilya, Rafael, and I were barely able to control the descent of the chandelier while Lord Ipolitto and Lady Liliana got to safety.
Much shaken, we began to go through the tower. The first room we came to had paintings on the wall and an intricately woven rug on the floor. Lady Liliana studied the rug, warning us of the snakes that began moving, coming to life from the threads themselves. Only by remaining still could we prevent this.
Yet, when we remained still, the paintings came to life, the battle they depicted happening again. One side was led by a Moorish general, the other by a Castillian who had a Moorish woman slung over his shoulder. We hastily vacated the room.
We guessed that the woman in the painting was the same we had seen in our vision. I asked this troubled spirit to tell us how we might help. Words of blood formed on the door to room we had just left, saying only this: End my loneliness.
By now, Jebril, having recovered from his malady, entered the tower and hailed us. We greeted him, noting with dismay that the chandelier had been restored to its original position.
We then sought out the library. It contained a large bookcase. As we went through the books, this bookcase toppled over. I pulled Lady Liliana out of the way while Rafael pulled Lord Ipolitto to safety. Jebril scolded us all for failing to heed his warning to be cautious.
Yet the books proved instructive. There was one set written chronicling the life of the Castillian general who had built the tower. While instructive, this was wretchedly written, recalling the manner of a satire, but all too clearly sincere in its attempts to praise the Castillian general. Such attempts, alas, called up the opposite sentiment from that which the author clearly wished to evoke.
The Castillian general was determined to spread our faith by whatever means proved necessary, even those condemned by Mother Church herself. In so doing, I fear he may have driven many, including himself, into the arms of the Adversary. One of his favorite tactics was to take a local custom and make it his own, but where a truly devout man would do this in such a way as to show the spiritual truths that sustain our souls, the general perverted the custom to show his worldly power.
Jebril told us that there is a Moorish custom of burying a cat in the foundation of a building to make it stronger. We speculated that the Moorish woman we had seen in painting and vision had been treated so.
The chronicler did not say as much, but there were signs that this might be the case. At one point, there was an attempt to make peace. The Moorish delegation was led be the daughter of their general, and she was said to both wise and exceedingly beautiful. This delegation never arrived. The Moorish general accused the Castillian of slaughtering the delegation, while the Castillian general accused the Moorish of either never sending a delegation or of slaughtering it himself, though it contained his own daughter, thereby creating a pretext for continued warfare.
In truth, my lord, I do not believe the Castillian needed any pretext. Yet, there was one further hint in the chronicler's volumes. In the final battle, the Castillian general came face to face with his Moorish counterpart. Before slaying him, the Castillian mocked him, saying, "Old man, my tower is stronger."
There was another set of volumes, this one written by the merchant who had purchased the land the tower was on. The last volume we found in the library ended with his decision to explore the lower parts of the tower.
We recalled a room with another volume on the table. We proceeded to the doorway of this room, and we noted that there was a fire in the hearth. This was clearly not natural, for who could have made it? We had not, and we were the first of the living to set foot in the tower in some months.
Lord Ipolitto decreed that he would retrieve the book, pointing out that he was the fastest of us all. We were unable to dissuade him either from this course of action or from the notion that you might perhaps remain ignorant of it. Lady Liliana gave him what aid she could. The book was retrieved, and your nephew took no lasting ill effects, although his clothes were singed.
The volume he retrieved proved useful, for it described how the author located a sealed vault in the foundation of the tower. By the time we retraced his path, all of us had picked up an assorted collection of bruises and cuts, as the force haunting the tower attempted to thwart us, even as it sought our aid.
Yet, as I said, we found the door to the vault, as the author described. The skeleton of the Castillian general, recognizable by the ring it wore, was also there, as described. Either guilt or, more likely, fear had moved him to attempt to breach the vault. His efforts were in vain, however, for the vault remained impervious to all tools. Only when, in desperation, he clawed at the wall until his fingers bled, did the mortar begin to crumble.
Rafael realized that blood was the key. I feared the use of blood in such a way, but he cut himself at once, using his own blood to eat away at the mortar. Shamed at letting a Jew prove more generous than I, I followed his example, as did the others.
As the mortar fell aside, I felt that the Moorish woman needed my help. I left the others, walking, though I knew it not, up the large stairway to the chandelier, where, though I saw it not, a noose was hanging.
All I saw was the woman. All I smelled was her perfume. All I knew was that she needed my help and I could not refuse.
Three things saved me, these being my lute, Lady Liliana, and your nephew.
I was still bleeding, and, as I did not wish to stain my lute with blood, I held the arm I had cut well away from it. This caused me to leave a trail of blood on the ground. Lady Liliana and Lord Ipolitto were easily able to follow this trail. Thus did the lute amply repay my care of her.
As I reached the top of the stairs, Lady Liliana used her skill to unfasten the noose from the chandelier. When I leaned over, as I thought, to embrace the Moorish woman, Lord Ipolitto pulled me back, preventing me from pitching ignominiously over the side. Your nephew tore his own shirt, using one of the few clean strips remaining to it to bind up my arm.
Rafael, Jebril, and Ilya tell me that, as Lord Ipolitto pulled me back, the door to the vault was opened to reveal a room empty to mortal eyes, but filled with a sad presence. This presence, now released, departed to its eternal reward. We prayed for the woman, and for her slayer as well, for he surely needed our prayers.
Jebril asked Lord Ipolitto if the tower should be destroyed. Lord Ipolitto properly referred that question to Duke Ferdinand. We left the tower, and soon encountered a party of the duke's men, led by the Quillmaster. He congratulated us on our success. I asked if he thought the duke would allow the tower to be knocked down. He actually stopped writing, so surprising did he find the notion. He promised to ask his lord, but doubted the tower would be destroyed. And, in truth, there seems little need, for the spirit who haunted it is at peace.
We returned to Duke Ferdinand, and, as he had promised, the Quillmaster told us what he knew concerning what we sought. As chance or divine fate would have it, what we seek is most likely to be found near the very monastery where your son is staying.
In service to the Sforza,
Roggerio
Game Quotes:
Roggerio: We have to help the dead lady.
Rafael: I thought we weren't listening to Bella anymore?
Jebril (after contributing much blood to the cause): We did good. I'm going to pass out now.
