>>5763314Loathe as you are to leave—now more than ever, alas—you know you must. You join your forces where they wait for you: Hunter and some unknown attendant to carry his great quiver; Agno, ready with your own weapons and helm; the Duelist, adjusting her attire and stowing away her finely-forged new surface swords (human-made, for she still flatly refuses to handle weapons of ‘inferior traitor crasftelfship’); the Occultist, preparing the ritual that will guide you. Most are unrecognizable as they are, wrapped in half-elven guises (or dwarven, in Agno’s case).
You do not see the Elemental, but you sense it—a tension in the air, like just before a storm; it is near, and it will follow.
“Speak the name of the beast we hunt, Oh Dragon King,” intones the Occultist, eyes rolled back and hands outstretched in the throes of a seeking spell-for no simple summoning can call forth a bound-and-anchored demon of the strength which the Succubus now boasts.
“Irinnile,” you speak.
“Irinnile,” the Occultist repeats. “Irinnile! Master of Insight, Dark God of Secret Things and Hidden Places, hear me! Lesser shades of hunting and finding, of stalking and invasion, of violation and vengeance… Bring us to the Succubus, Irinnile! Give her up, and have your fill of her power! THIS is our pact!”
And thus, the Hunt for the Succubus begins. It carries you out of Bloodrise and through familiar baronies—including, alas, through Sunset Lake, which you had heard of and soon hoped to trade with… But equally, hoped never to visit. You give the great, deep body of water which gives the place its name wide berth, though your Kobold Servant Agno and the Hunter’s quiver-holder venture into settlements as needed to restock supplies and to seek rumours. Alas, they hear no tell of Heinrich Yosef—or anyone matching his description—nor of the sorts of lewd or deadly incidents which might indicate Irinnile’s presence in the area.
In fact, you find no trace of the demoness at all, for nearly a month.
