Arodus checks out the statue under him, seeing if anything has changed.
Edric does a stop drop and roll routine. Assuming he can put the flames out with that, and nothing interrupts him, he follows that up with Cure-Light Wounds and then Prestidigitation to clean himself up. After thatz he does a Perception check.
Edric manages to get the flames on his body quenched, and there is enough time for him to finish mending his burns as Arodus watches from his perch in horror and Devana convalesces on a pew further away from the entrance.
Indeed, the only one who seems to be in harm's immediate way is Ceiro, who sits insensinant not far away from the entrance, which is beginning to splinter from a source that the noble's flung light source does not penetrate.
She watches Arodus for a moment as offers her help. "You're most kind." she says in her typical neutral tone, though with some fantasy one might imagine that there was a smile.
Lynura gets her journal, ink and inkpen out, rests the journal on her folded legs and starts making notes of her experiences. It bothers her a little to do exactly as Phantomheim told her to, but it might become important.
When she looks up she first notices Arodus climbing the statue. She is a bit surprised when he turns the head... she had guessed that the "turning" phrase was a reference to turning a key in the hole or to turn the statue's arm, she hadn't thought of the head. It's dangerous to theorize before one has all the facts. It biases judgment. she recalled a line from a novel detective popular in Egorian. That was also true for wizards, though it is difficult to tell in advance how many facts there are to be gathered and how conclusive they are. One cannot deduce everything, induction is required in practice; that was why she traditionally preferred theory and only recently dared to step into the blazing cesspool of wonders practice was.
She noticed only too late that Phantomheim was going to touch one of the eyelids: "Wait. No..." She jumped up and ran immediately to him trying to separate him from it without getting into contact herself. However, since Phantomheim already dealt with it himself she said instead: "Everything all right again? I strongly recommend that we cease further investigation of those 'eyelid appearances' unless it proves to be absolutely vital."
Arodus starts to get a little comfortable on the shoulder of the creepy statue as the demented scenery starts to play with his mind and drive him a little mad. He even starts to laugh a little as the entrance starts breaking apart and reaches into his backpack to pull out his heavy crossbow and load it.
"GET READY, something is coming!"
Arodus, already fearing for his life after seeing one person have a seizure, another burst into flames, and one apparently isn't bothered by this at all and is just sitting there patiently, so he decides to waste one of his first level spells and drop some Grease in front of the door.
At first Devana had thought that the loud banging belonged to the mechanism that Arodus had triggered. She realized her mistake when Arodus called out. All this training must have been good for something. she thought. Without even thinking much about it she cast a spell, whispering the formula in azlanti: "Strands of arcane fold to be my armour."¹ and a piece of cured leather dissolved in her hand, as the strings of magical power adopted its pattern.
She hastens to take up position behind the stone altar, her dagger in hand, a spell ready to welcome their visitors in the other. "Ready!" she called out.
....................
¹ Mage Armor
Edric calmly retrieves his items from where Devana had been sitting and then moves over to the pew she had been standing on just moments before.
Without saying a word he climbs up onto the window and looks out , checking the area, especially for enemies and the ground right below him on the other side.
If the coast is clear, and the ground before him stable, he drops down and initiates a stealth check, moving north along the building's exterior wall towards the corner flanking the door. When he reaches it, Edric partially peeks his head around just enough to catch sight of whatever is dismantling the door.
Ceiro seems to almost come off the slab as he jolts back to consciousness.
Startled at all the commotion he surveys the room. reaching into his long leather coat he retrieves a scriveners case; quickly as he can he jots down his name trusting his ancestors he makes his mark ripping a piece of paper just under his signature while doing so he asks, Can anyone create a small flame? If no response comes quickly he produces flint and steel from his pouch as he moves to the basin lighting the piece of paper aflame as quickly as he can. Where has the other one got off too. thinking on what wisdom he gained from the other side.
"'fraid not" She returns. She holds her left index finger in front of her lips and points to the window through which Phantomheim has slipped out. Then she makes an arched motion with the right to indicate diving through, followed by a shrug with her shoulders.¹ She is not quite sure whether to stand her ground or follow Phantomheim. She bites her lower lip and tries to get an impression how powerful the attacker might be from the force with which it hammers at the door.² I've died enough for one day. However, even though the attacker must have heard them by now, she does not want to give Phantomheim or their possible escape away.
Arodus grew comfortable up in his perch, heavy crossbow still aimed at the door, with his Iron Pot of Light laying on the floor and the Grease spell covering the first 10x10 feet square when you enter the area. Upon hearing Ceiro’s request, he rummages through his bag and pulls out his flint and steel, bundling it up together and tossing it over to Ceiro. ”You better hurry, that door doesn’t sound like it’s going to last long, unless it finds Edric first….”
Jumping up on the ledge, Edric sees a modified version of what Devana had seen just previously. The party is in a temple district, and close by is the undisputable evidence of a church of Asmodeus, as well as glimpses from other buildings. From this height unshielded, the man can smell blood and seared flesh in the smoke.
A scorched, mutilated armored human torso lies below, and there are ...entrails..? splattered in the cobbles, but otherwise the immediate way is clear. All other vision is obscured by smoke and fire.
Making his way down, Edric shoves himself against the wall and skirts against it until he reaches the corner of the building, at which point he turns and sees something truly terrifying ramming itself against the wall.
It is a hideous mass of manflesh, mottled and bloated. It is covered by a thing, shining membrane that glitters in the light of a nearby fallen torch. It bears a resemblance to a man... albeit a man that is four times the size of his fellows, and half of its body lacks any skin aside from the shining membrane. One arm is also far larger.
An enormous distended belly jiggles and drops clods of something like green, hissing fat from a single incision, and Edric swears he sees the face of some tortured soul thrashing inside.
It stops, however, after Edric makes an exceptionally heavy breath, turning so that the man can see a head with horns protruding where eyes should be, and a dripping malformity where a jaw has been removed.
A slavering tongue whips up, revealing a single, beady, animal eye.
Edric's departure buys the time needed for Ceiro to light his offering. It smoulders quickly in a purple flame and the oracle is suddenly struck with an impossible sense of loss. He hears, again, that cousin calling out his name in absolute agony...
and then he forgets his pain.
He forgets other things, too, but he's not sure what he's forgotten. It does, however, feel like a weight has been removed from inside his chest.
A shining key materializes in the bowl.
I have no ranks in those, nor refrence materials, so if a dc 10 doesn't do it I wouldn't't be able to identify it anyway. For now I'll stick with buying more time, and consult members with those skills afterwards.
Edric chucks anything loose he can easily grab and yells; "Come on you sick freak, come get your supper!"
After that, Edric falls back, placing himself just beyond the other side of the window he climbed out of. "I'm trying to lure it over here, and I seriously doubt it understands any types of languages we'd be familiar with. If anyone feels particularly dairing, I think I can lure it underneath the window. Arrows won't be much use, fire and steel however.." He calls out back into the room.
Arodus looks around to see if he can notice a keyhole about the same size as the key, but can't seem to see much from his height anyways so he decides to try moving the head again to see if it may change the scenery or cause more goodies to appear. He has a theory that it may require more turning for good things to happen, as inscribed. Unless the inscription purely meant this outcome.
Arodus struggles with the statue head as he hears Edric's shouts.
A look of anguish passes over Ceiro's face as he looks into the smoke as the flames flicker. As the flames die a tear runs down his cheek and a calmness comes over Ciero once again. He picks up the key as with his other hand he pulls a braided thread from one of the tassels of the several scarves he wares. quickly he loops the key upon the thread and calling on his people he beseeches them to guide this key holding it out by the end of the thread.
"What..." Devana understood less and less what was going on with every passing heartbeat and she hated it. But this was not the time to ask many questions, so she remained vigilant. "I think that key hole might be it...." she said, tried to calm her heart by recalling what she knew about defending a fixed position with using magic. Nethys stand by me!
No one besides the armored Devana has any luck in immediately discovering the location of the proper keyhole. Thankfully, it is not far from where Ceiro is standing.
Ceiro can feel a pull on his key, but it isn't so much a directional as a resistance to gravity, as if it is trying to ascend.
Meanwhile, Arodus pulls on the statue's head to no avail.
Edric, heroic as he acted, may be feeling a bit of regret as the abomination rounds the chapel, thumping its enormous feet on the bloodied cobblestones. It is led by its outstretched tongue, which stares at him once more.
Within moments, it is so close that he can hear rattled breaths.
Arodus holds his crossbow with his knees as he tries to turn the head once more.
Edric moves as if to draw his sword and stand his ground, but stops at the last second, backing off as a new plan forms in his head. Once he's far enough away he turns around and runs at full speed around the building. "I'll have to time this perfectly." He thinks to himself, while preparing the spell he has in mind.
Ceiro realizing Devana had found the keyhole moves his hand to grab the key as he does the key continues to lift toward the keyhole. grabbing the key it nearly pulls Ceiro as it slides into place Ceiro turns it and lets go heart pounding.
Arodus maintains his spot on the shoulder of the 15 foot creepy statue. He balances his crossbow on his legs as he grabs the head again and turns it, hoping it might stop whatever is happening or possibly make it better; he's unsure if the inscription on the statue is meant to be a good or bad omen.
After turning the head, Arodus gives out a few heavy breaths as he's not used to exerting this much physical energy. He leans against the head as he picks up his crossbow again, and keeps aim on the door, although it seems like the current threat has moved on to Edric for the time being.
The monster lopes after Edric, matching him step-for-step and shaking the ground beneath him. The man in question hears monstrous shrieking coming from another temple nearby.
However, before the actions can go through, Ceiro inserts his key, which in turn unlocks the statue head. Arodus succeeds in pushing it further.
Everything bursts into light.
Arodus falls off the statue, blinded, but manages to safely tuck into a roll.
Weal and woe indeed! Ceiro thinks as he thuds against the wall in a heap. He steadies himself rising to his feet with the aid of the wall slowly shaking off a knock to the head.
I will not die again before I understand what is going on.
Resolve in his voice he pulls his long knife as he tries to regain his sight.
“All right, that's it...” Devana is abruptly cut off by the sudden blast, but somehow she manages to hold onto the next pillar. Her new found fellow sufferers were not quite so lucky. “Are you all right?” she asks. It sounds more like an academic question than as though she is actually concerned.
She looks around to see whatever had changed and whether the monster at the door is getting through.
Arodus thinks it's been about a minute as he hears the monster leaving the door. He runs near the statue (as long as it's not alive) and grabs his crossbow and backpack, darting over to the door as his Grease starts to fade and snatches up his iron pot of Light, shoving it into his backpack so it glows a little from the inside. "Is the door open? Maybe we should go outside and help him. There's no other way out in here, unless you want to crawl into a hole, not a good idea from the looks of this place.... so we'll have to go outside sometime. May as well get it over with while he's distracted." He looks around to make sure he didn't miss anything that might have just happened.
(My turn would change a bit if something significant with the statue happens, but that's the gist of what I have for now.)
Devana finds herself alone with Arodus's pot and a chapel as peaceful as it had been at the start. However, beams of sunlight filter in through the mist, and somehow she feels... safe. Well, as safe as she could ever be in this place.
The eye locks on the walls have vanished, leaving behind only scars in the plaster once more.
In place of the pit in the floor, there is once more a water fountain, running clean rivulets into itself.
The statue's head remains locked in its second position, facing the east.
Edric finds himself knocked against a chair in front of a tavern shrouded in mist. He is on the porch, and can hear the sign above him squeaking in a non-existent breeze.
Visibility is limited beyond ten feet in the distance, but he swears he hears footsteps.
Ceiro thought he had landed against a wall, but instead feels the damp of mossy stone. The air smells cleaner here, and Ceiro feels something like sun on his face. His vision starts to clear and he finds himself in a place not unlike the wilds of Varisia. There is fog, but beams of sunlight come through slats between withered trees.
He is sitting against a large rock, and can't help but notice that there is a number one glowing on his wrist.
There is a fresh grave directly next to him, marked only by a piece of timber and dead flowers.
Arodus is startled to find that he is in some sort of manor courtyard, rather than the chapel, when his vision clears. His pot is nowhere to be seen, but his crossbow is resting in sod. The manor itself seems to be three stories high, and made of flaking gray plaster and stone. It was brightly painted with blues and yellows, but now, in the muted sunlight and fog, it seems sick and rotted.
Still, it feels.. safe, somehow.
The front door hangs open, and visibility is limited beyond the nearby grounds due to mist...
but it appears that to the east, the ground simply stops, as if there is a deep ravine.
Arodus is not assailed by anything, and he can see a dusty reception foyer through the doors in question. A green carpet rolls until it reaches a marble staircase, and a large glass window lets natural light stream down through the dust.
Suits of rusted armor in an unfamiliar style flank both sides of the door, and entrances to other chambers dot the main floor, though all of the doors on this story are shut with on exception to the right.
However, there is a singular figure standing hunched on the bottom stair in dilapidated finery. His eyes are open, but there is no sign of animation. He is weighted down by long streams of jewelry and strongboxes in stiff arms.
Upon closer inspection, it is clear that there is a massive dagger pinning a sheet of bloodied paper to his back that reads:
"Avaricious Bastard".
Edric stands up and looks around attempting to pinpoint the footsteps' origin as he reddies to draw his sword once more.
Devana blinked a couple of times, but the place had indeed changed. From the looks of it she was still in the same place but in the past of it. It did not seem like she was in any immediate danger, but those strange fellows she found earlier were gone. Or she was gone and the others had reminded in time were they were before. Time travel was unsettling; it was a violation of the most fundamental principles of mundane science. “Actio est reactio.” There was always a reason and a consequence. Her own identity was a state in physical reality which could only progress, the reason for her existence in any given moment was that she existed the moment before. Reality was in constant flux. If she was now taken from one time line to another, was she really the same person, or some kind of “precreation”?
Flux seemed to be not too uncommon in this place and she would not be surprised if she was to meet the three strangers who shared a similar fate soon again. “Soon” being a term relative to her personal time line, a very distant future seemed more like.
She looked up to the statue to see whether the key was still there and walked around to compare the inscription with what she had seen before (will see in future), see for the eyelid marking and get a general impression of this place. While attracting attention may well be dangerous, quod erat demonstrandum, this place did not look particular hostile at the moment and it seemed like someone cared about it. “Hello? Is anyone here?”
Ceiro hears something feebly crying beyond some of the trees. It sounds like a baby.
The open room at the end of the hall contains a single wire-framed bed that looks like it is almost ready to fall apart (and has only one threadbare blanket upon it), a set of manacles on the floor, a chamber pot, a dish like one would provide for a dog, and marks on the walls made by a thrashing prisoner.
However, there is something..moving... under the blanket on the bed.
Devana finds the inscription from before gone, and a small moth flutters on the side of the statue in its place in clockwise circles. It has golden flecks that glint on its wings, and soon takes to the air, orbiting Devana's head momentarily before heading to the door, still barred.
On the other side, there is the distinct sound of an animal braying.
It comes from directly inside, but is not lumbering or dangerous.
A man in an apron who is quite obviously out-of-place here with his bright brown eyes, tanned skin, and healthy aura opens the door.
"Ho, friend. You're early!" he greets, smile lines visible through the thin beard he sports. "It's a bit early to be coming for a drink, but come in anyway. My wife and I are always so interested in the stories of the wandering. Come, it's warm inside and apt to rain this time of year."
He gestures through the door to the darkened place, though there is a hint of candlelight.
Ceiro shakily rises long knife in hand. Now now little one don't cry. Ceiro cautiously moves toward the crying dreading he will find no mere babe at the end of the wailing.
Devana is mystified by the strange moth, even though it also blends with the air of delight in the chapel at this time. “What secrets do you keep?” she asks and follows it to the door. Given the sounds on the other side she is certainly going to open it for now, but there is a chance that the moth has a meaning.
Still suspicious, Edric lowers his guard ever so slightly as he sizes up the bearded man.
"Pardon me Sir, but do I know you?" He asks before moving towards the door, pausing once more at its frame to peer inside.
The moth flitters around Devana briefly before meandering over to the chapel door, where it alights and flutters its wings exactly three times. It then takes wing once again and lands just a little further down on the door, flapping its wings two times, and then spinning.
The nobleman pulls the sheets off of a huddling, horned child. She is emaciated, bruised, and wearing little more than a tattered tunic. She sniffles piteously with sunken eyes and reacts to Arodus by backing away further on the bed, murmuring the word "no" over and over with increasing urgency.
Her wrists are raw. This much is obvious when she places her arms out defensively against imagined blows.
From what Edric can tell, the man means no harm and has no idea that anything is amiss whatsoever. In fact, he seems to think he is living a normal day in a normal life.
"Valen Traneir, at your service." the bearded man says with a smile and an exaggerated bow that is more humorous than demeaning. "Come now. Inside with you before you get a chill. You look like you've had a long day."
He motions again.
Edric can smell bread now, wafting on a nonexistent breeze.
Arodus immediately recognizes her as a tiefling and lowers his weapon just a little, taking a quick glance around to make sure whatever was harming this child is not in the vicinity, before leaning forward to offer a helping hand. "You're okay, child. I can help you get out of here. Is there something else here?"
Devana's confusion did not become any less as she watched the moth, but at least that gave her something to work with other than the statue. Moth's were mindless creatures, usually, but a usually moth could not light up it wings either. So what was this? For now she would be happy to give in to the hope that it was her angel and tried to follow its lead.
First she carefully tests the smell of the water in the fountain. There is no telling when she will find anything drinkable again. If the smell is alright she takes first a sip, waits whether anything happens and then drinks as much as she can, also refilling her water skin.
She walked up to the chapel door, careful not to step on or collide with the moth. Three times... what did it mean? Beyond the door she could still hear the screams of wild beasts which were hardly comforting, so she hesitated on knocking on it. Is there anything that would correspond to the number three? The she examined the floor and the lower end of the door and the floor where moth lighted it wings two times.
Edric attempts to recall any information he might now about Valen Traneir.
"Very well, I'm not one to turn down assistance nor kindness, but please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Sir Edric Phantomheim, investigator by trade, blood, and passion." Edric says as he walks into the building, making sure to tidy up as bit (casts prestidigitation to make himself more presentable) as to not cause too much trouble for his new host.
"Perhaps you might enlighten me as to how I ended up here, and is it possible for me to get a something to drink good sir? Water would be very much appreciated."