Vyshael finishes the long count, then steps into the doorway as he traces an arcane pattern with his left hand and points his mother's blade with his right... He plants his feet as he mutters the final syllables, causing a spark to shoot down the length of the blade and into the middle of the alchemists on the main floor.
Giving Rutter ample enough time to move into position, Vyshael steps into the space just inside the door and launches the small bead of fire. The bead races to a point in the center of the alchemists assembled before bursting into a giant ball of flame. The three on the catwalks have it between them and the blast, but it isn't enough to avoid the extent of the burst. The fire licks across all of them, just shy of Rutter and Vysahel's faces, they can feel the heat, but nowhere near as bad as the victims.
As if the shock of the fire wasn't enough, the one on the back end of the room is suddenly stabbed hard by a kukri, followed by a second one before he can even react, spilling blood and entrails out two deep wounds on each side of his lower spine.
Even though Vyshael has heard of fireballs doing much more, it was still a very strong start, and Feldivar, Rutter and Vyshael are already prepared to finish it off quickly.
Neva felt the warmth of the blast on her face, and wondered if her eyebrows had singed. She raised her crossbow
Feldivar is sure the others will have this well in hand, but likes stacking the deck when he can. He readies an action to grease a ranged weapon if one of the surviving alchemists produces one.
Rutter laughs gleefully as he runs around the catwalk to the next alchemist. He jabs a kukri through the bars of the railing separating them.
Feldivar moves up into the opening of the room, just enough to be able to target any ranged threats with a grease spell.
Rutter intends to stab the next of the men through the rails, but realizes that the corner post, and the rails from both sides will hamper his ability to attack effectively. He decides instead to be an obstacle on his end of the catwalk.
Neva continued her hurried shooting through the door
With Rutter threatening the southern alchemist, Vyshael decides to block off the only other path, currently preventing any of them from reaching the doors out.
The calm dissipates, as the alchemists start to react to what just happened, one by one. Two of the ones on the floor of the room, step away from the center, and begin to pray out for healing. Both of them look about to drop, but the healing reinvigorates them just in time.
Not but a few seconds after getting on the mend, Neva steps up into the opening beside Feldivar. Her crossbow ready, she fires at the nearest enemy, punching through his armor, and knocking him against the vat. He slowly slumps to the floor.
The one of them facing down Rutter's kukris follows suit behind his fellows. He too steps back away, a spell quick to his lips to lend him healing.
Raliscar pops a bead from his necklace, steps into the room past Feldivar and Neva, "One side, you two! Let a dwarf through!" Once in the room proper, he tosses the bead to the floor, just beneath the overhead catwalk.
HP: 55/64
AC: 20 (13 T / 17 FF)
CMD: 20
F/R/W: +9/+10/+5
Ranger's Focus (+4/+4): [X] [ ]
Level 1 spells prepared (1+1): gravity bow [X] [X]
Necklace of Fireballs: 6d6 [X] // 4d6 [X] [ ] // 2d6 [X] [ ]
-Ongoing Effects-
Favored Terrain (underground/dungeon): +2 to Initiative, Perception, Stealth, & Survival for ALL party members
Deadly Aim: -2/+4
Rutter steps up, following the one on the catwalk. He swings both kukri at him.
Vyshael glares down at the alchemist standing before him, and places both hands on his mother's blade and tries to drive it forward to run the man through... but the elf moves too quickly and doesn't set his feet properly, resulting in an unbalanced attack.
Raliscar barges into the room, another bead plucked from his necklace. He hurls it at the underside of the walkway, bursting into another large ball of fire. The remaining alchemists catch fire once more, most of them dropping from the pain, one dying outright. The two beads seem to have seriously taken care of the people inhabiting this room.
Neva reloaded her crossbow and moved into the room. Her face grim with anger, she did nothing to help the dying.
Rutter sheathed his blades and began searching the smoldering corpses. "That was good work! Y'all casters want to see what they were mixing?"
After searching the corpses, he begins listening at each door.
Vyshael winces as the blast of Raliscar's fireball washes over him.
"Vyshael! I'm sorry, lad! That one was bigger'n I was thinkin' an' I thought those catwalks would've shielded ye more!" The dwarf then darts over to his half-elven friend, his face clouded with a mix of concern and apology. "Are ye dead?!"
The dwarf, not hearing a response from the half-elf, trots over toward him. "Vysh? Now are ye pullin' me chain or did that thing blow ye to bits?" As he moves across the room his gaze falls on one of the seeming surgeons who had been incinerated twice over and he grimaces. "Yech. Served that one right at least." Shaking his head, he snaps back to concern for his companion. "Vyshael, blast it, if yer not dead and ye keep me worryin' much longer I'll be puttin' a boot so far up that delicate elven backside o' yours that ye'll wish that marble had done th' job!"
Vyshael shakes his head, "Not dead. Certainly singed. Thinking I'll need some attention from Neva if my hair is to grow back."
”Maybe she can get it to grow back in a more interesting shade!”
"What?! Why ever would ye want it ta grow back, regardless of th' color? Ye look twice as tough bald, Vysh! Once ye get a mirror in front o' ye though, it'll be th' eyebrows that ye truly miss." He claps the half-elf on the shoulder, then casts a glance over to Rutter.
"You hearin' anything in the next room, lad?" As the halfling plies his trade at the door, Raliscar sets to patting down the remains of the surgeons.
Feldivarxon coaxes Esmeralda into the room and looks around for anything interesting. (He doesn’t find the bodies terribly interesting and knows the dwarf will search them thoroughly without assistance, anyway.)
Neva was shaken out of her rage and disgust by Vyshael's comments. She finally noticed his burns, and went over to help.
"I'm sorry I didn't notice earlier. It's just...these monsters...what they're doing..."
She trailed off, shaking her head and applying the healing magic of her wands.
Vyshael takes a breath and stretches his newly-healed skin, then smiles, "I understand -- and don't worry, the injuries were painful, but not life-threatening."
Searching the bodies, they each carry a vial, a scythe, a key, and wear breastplate. They also each carry a holy symbol. You have seen it before, on the sunken ship. Vyshael identified it there as the symbol of Urgathoa.
Beyond the north door, Rutter hears a hint of the most minor details. A shuffled step, a quill to parchment, under breath mutterings, and the soft clink of glass on glass. Eastward there is movement, but it sounds a little distant, but the the lower east door has footsteps and inaudible conversation. To the south, both doors offer no clue as to what may lie beyond their portals.
There's no telling how or why Feldivar was able to investigate the vats and determine that the foul phlegm-like substance was actually a huge container of cultivated disease. Neva can easily confirm with his assessment, now that she knows it is a disease, that it is none other than a crafted Blood Veil.
The realization makes even the gnome speechless as his mouth falls open. He stares at the others for a long moment.
The best he can manage is eventually, ”But.... why.... who....?”
Vyshael surprises everyone, himself included, by letting out a snarl at Feldivar's discovery. "We all knew they couldn't be trusted, but this is... evil for its own sake... Which," he sighs, "...is the exact sort of evil one should expect from followers of Urgathoa. Now the question is whether the rot from the god of disease has spread to the highest levels.. or if they're 'allies' being used to keep up panic and chaos..."
He shakes his head, then says, "Almost a better question is how we expose all of this..."
"They're makin' the blasted Blood Veil here? Beneath the hospice they set up ta supposedly treat it?! Gods above, there hasn't been a torture yet invented suitable for these snakes!" At Vyshael's question, he grunts and turns away, slipping a bolt into the cradle of his crossbow and yanking the string into place.
He then stomps over toward the lower east door, his crossbow at the ready and loaded for bear. "Well. There's only one way I know of ta deal with snakes. An' that's exterminatin' the whole hellborn nest! Once they're dealt with, we can bring Kroft down here ta out it." He nods to the door. "If one o' ye wouldn't mind openin' th' door, I'll get ta givin' whoever's on the other side a piece o' my mind!"
Neva didn't have anything else to add. She coupldn't find any words.
She walked over and opened the door for Raliscar.
Rutter takes the vials and keys from the corpses, even though he suspects the keys are all the same.
Rutter looks suspiciously at Feldivarxon when he identifies the elixirs, but when Neva confirms it, his lips curl in an angry frown. "So these effers came all the way from Cheliax just to kill a whole town - my whole town - with some fake disease?! What. An. Effing... She probably killed the King herself, too, or had someone do it."
He draws his blades and prepares to rush into the next room after Raliscar's bolt.
,
,
The reek of burning wax wafts through this morbid chamber, with several tall, misshapen candles being the apparent source. Workspaces strewn with tall beakers of foul-colored liquids, parchments covered in insidious symbols, and cages of whimpering rodents fill large alcoves in both the northern and southern walls. A pair of huge stone doors hang ajar to the east, revealing a long hallway leading further into the dark. At the room’s center stand four large, cylindrical glass vats, each filled with a bubbling emerald fluid that tints the chamber’s light a noxious green. Within each suspension floats a malformed abomination—something part man, part angel, and part horse things of half-formed muscle with dead, fleshless equine skulls. Three of the forms are motionless and still, but the fourth twitches now and then with life. Among the vats stand two more of the followers of Urgathoa like from the room before, attending the vats.
Raliscar slips into the room with a quick step and snaps off a shot at the first urgathoan he sees.
HP: 55/64
AC: 20 (13 T / 17 FF)
CMD: 20
F/R/W: +9/+10/+5
Ranger's Focus (+4/+4): [X] [ ]
Level 1 spells prepared (1+1): gravity bow [X] [X]
Necklace of Fireballs: 6d6 [X] // 4d6 [X] [ ] // 2d6 [X] [ ]
-Ongoing Effects-
Favored Terrain (underground/dungeon): +2 to Initiative, Perception, Stealth, & Survival for ALL party members
Deadly Aim: -2/+4
Feldivarxon will only be able to move during the surprise round. He will delay for the others to enter, then will move up to the door.
Vyshael slides his bow from his shoulder and snaps a quick shot with one of his enchanted arrows, trying to concentrate fire with Raliscar. "See if we can't stop the cultists before they finish with that abomination."
for
Neva's bolt follows Vyshael's arrow into the room.
Rutter rushes in and starts circling behind the vats.
As soon as the door opens, Rutter rushes in to circle around one of the Urgathoan priests, while Feldivar waits for a spot to move up into. Neva fires on the one between the vats. Her bolt dances off the man's armor, to tink lightly against the glass case behind him.
Vyshael draws his bow in readiness to fire, as Raliscar steps in with his crossbow. The bolt flies solidly into the man between the vats, slamming him up against the vat with a thud. The thing inside looks interested in the events going on in the room. Finally, with Raliscar stepping in, Feldivar is able to ride up to the doorway.
Rutter continues his path around the empty vat and blocks a route to cover for one of the priests. He lashes out with a kukri, but misses.
Rutter moves in around the victim of Raliscar's bolt fire, and swipes clumsily at the man between the two vats. His swing is fast and harsh, and especially careless as his weapon crashes against one of the glass vats. Stepping back away from him, the Urgathoen casts a spell, and his wounds just barely begin to knit closed.
The second one, has a straight shot at Raliscar, but instead tucks himself back behind one of the vats, and begins casting a spell. A green aura surrounds him in a thin layer before vanishing.