know: religion
need an "aid another"
"It does not appear to be a golem. Among other factors, it is quite small for a construct of its type. And Rod, does that seem odd to you?" She gestures toward the creature, trying to recall religious facts about the Keeper.
Rod looks at the lich.
"Gath. Gath, I presume?" he says, rather cheerlessly.
"Who are you? Why are you here? You do not seem to be penitents seeking the Keeper's wisdom." The voice is a low croak, muffled by the helmet.
"I am Rodergo Xativa, a humble servant of the flame. These are my cohorts. We seek an audience with Gath. I presume that you are he?"
diplomacy
There is a pause, then the figure grunts his assent.
"A man.......Dr. Ranticar......gave Gath a wooden box. It has a Shard within it. We need that shard, or this world as we know it is possibly doomed.
What do you know of the Dal Quor?"
"Dal Quor? Why should I care? Those who truly sleep do not dwell in Dal Quor."
"What do you care about then?"
"You have progressed this far and yet you can still ask this question. You are unworthy." Gath makes an abrupt gesture with one hand.
wil save
action point time I reckon for the save
Init
Damn! AND I wasted an AP!!!
+2 Racial bonus on saves vs mind-affecting spells, abilities, and possession.
Rodergo's body is brutally crushed to a messy pulp by some unseen force before being obliterated entirely except for a few tangles of metal and a red greasy patch on the corridor floor.
"S**~ just got real," Gelb retorts at Rod's crushing death.
"Motherf+$*er! You're dead, bones. Deader. You know."
Aubrey:
"You care about death. The ultimate destination for all that live. The quori - the creatures of Dal Quor - are in opposition to your patron by their very nature. They pervert and destroy and change their victims until they have no free will. They cannot even conceive of killing themselves to escape their tortured existence. If they have their way, there will be no one left to worship Death. But perhaps that does not matter to you."
"Motherf%*@er! You're dead, bones. Deader. You know."
Aubrey:** spoiler omitted **
Aubrey:
"No, it does not matter to me."
"Listen for a second." Janosz turns away from Gath. "This ain't real. Look around you. See all the dust, yet nobody leaves any tracks? Note how Gath, the Keeper's greatest servant and preacher, is a monosyllabic d*+~#+~? See how he's covered in cobwebs though he clearly must move around a lot? Nothing of this is happening. We never woke up after the fist set of visions. We're still dreaming. Shake it off!"
"You make sense, Marcher.I did expect more from one such as Gath. " Nevharath then focuses while looking around with his supernatural vision.
Gil is mashed and pulverised into a smudge in the same way as Rodergo.
"Seems to be doing a fine job of wiping us out for an illusion," Gelb mocks as he draws a wand and fire bolts of magic at it.
Runzyl utters an elvish warcry as he closes with Gath and slashes at it to disrupt its spellcasting.
Gelb's magic missiles thud into Gath, but he seems unperturbed, and Runzyl's attacks simply skid off his armour.
Is there a roll i could make to see if i would know what that means? like spellcraft for a spell or maybe a knowledge if it is something natural to a creature?
Nevharath manifests Force Screen (1 PP) and expends his focus to manifest Call Weaponry, pulling forth a magical heavy flail from ambient ectoplasm.
"Gath is within the illusion!" Nevharath warns.
"No, Gath is the illusion, the warrior is real!" Nevharath says, uncertainty tinging his voice. "I'm seeing both, what are you seeing?"
Ezreal squints. "I just see the lich. But I think you may be right, Janosz, this feels unreal." He casts a spell of dispelling.
"Nothing!"
Gath turns his gaze to the wizard. Ezreal gives an agonised howl and disappears in a puff of red mist.
"F@&# you. I'm done playing your stupid games. Nothing of this is happening." Janosz stows his bow and spits at the armoured figure. "Do your worst."
One by one the adventurers are crushed to oblivion, Gath seemingly impervious to all attacks, until only Nevharath is left.
Its voice is a dry rasp. "Sleeper, you do not belong here." It chuckles, the laughter becoming louder and louder until it is deafening.
The adventurers wake, yet again, on the floor of the shrine. The mosaic of the Reaper on the ceiling looms above them mockingly.
"Well, this isn't heaven,...."
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"Not mine, anyway. As that playwright said, "We are but the gods' genitalia, they play with us for their pleasure." I'm tired of being yanked around by this nutball."
"Can somebody tell me what happened?!"
Gil lays on the floor staring at the ceiling. "Yes, please, someone tell me what just happened."
Nevharath looks around, and tries to determine if they are in yet another layer of dream.
The door onwards is open once again. The faint sound of music and laughter can be heard.