Rakara swings again with the same result.
Mus'ad steps away again and tries his luck as well...
...but the result is similar.
Feeling nigh invincible, the Div starts to cackle madly as it continues to pick on Mus'ad...
...avoiding his defensive blow and biting the ranger once again. The Pahmet has suffered numerous wounds and is starting to look dangerously close to being taken out of the fight.
Silently, efficiently, and with Saranae's blessing coursing through him, Dumah strikes out again, trying to destroy the evil monstrosity.
To hit
Damage
If that is a hit, the smite should allow him to bypass any DR.
Uncertain who the two half-orcs are, but unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth and comforted by Dumah's invocation of Sarenrae's blessed might, Myron dashes around the paladin's back and delivers a quick feint to help the holy warrior hit his mark.
With teeth gritted Rakara swings at the creature yet again.
Myron continues to try and help position the Div for Dumah to hit.
Elrisiel remains upon the stairs and Ahkenaten continues to inspire his companions.
The half-orc paladin swings again and this time his weapon strikes the Div, channeling his holy power through the weapon, and leaving a devastating wound upon the outsider! The Div screams in pain and horror, finally ceasing its cackling laugh.
Rakara attempts to finish the Div off, but her swing is just wide of the mark.
Mus'ad, barely standing, but not wanting to abandon his friends in this time of need, steps opposite Myron and swings away once more...
...and the blessed flail crashes into the wobbling Div, splitting it wide open before it careens off of the wall and bounces to the floor in ruin. The dwarven ranger then falls to his knees.
After many furious minutes of life and death struggle, the building finally falls quiet, with just your own heavy breathing brought about from the intense combat piercing the silence...
Elrisiel lowers her guard as she wants the div get batted into a wall and come to rest, motionless, on the floor. After a moment, when it seems there are no more enemies coming for them, she breathes a sigh of relief and slowly moves down the staircase to rejoin her companion. "Thank the Song of the Spheres that's over with," she says.
agreed El. I felt pretty useless fighting that thing. Thank you for your help, whoever you are!?!? We should finish a quick search and get out of here.
He will channel twice and see where everyone is.
Dumah drops to one knee, murmurs a quiet prayer, then stands again.
"My name is Dumah. Rakara and I were passing by outside when we crossed paths with a woman fleeing. She gave us an indication of the trouble within, and we felt we must help."
The half-orc seems kind and placid; the least intimidating orc-blooded individual you are likely to meet.
Myron sags down in relief, and lets the healing energies from Kheleds channels wash over him. His mind still clouded by the poison, he shifts in place, unsure what to do with himself. He settles for collecting his sling staff before Dumahs words bring his attention back to the newcomers.
And we are certainly glad to have your aid. If you hadn't come, I don't think we would have made it - at least not without casualties. Are you members of one of the other teams? I don't recall seing you before. Oh, I'm Myron, by the way. he says, extending his hand.
Rakara, grasps the hand of the halfling and shakes it not too vigorously. With a nod to the group before her and grin that reveals the tusks that mark her orcish heritage she replies,
Rakara Sandtrapper at your service.
Looking a little more solemn she confirms,
We are, or were, with one of the other groups. We were just on our way out to get help ourselves when we ran into your comrade. The rest of our band has been either killed, captured or escaped some other way; we know not their fates as yet.
Rakara's orc heritage is not immediately evident. Some very strong human genes have given her hair that is nearly white and a skin tone more olive than jade and the desert sun has browned it further. The multitude of scars that criss cross her face, and much of the rest of her body, also serve to camouflage the orc features. Her tusks, however, remove any question as to her ultimate parentage. She seems jovial and when not in combat, relaxed and friendly.
"I'm Elrisiel Ielessar. Pleasure to meet you both," the musetouched elf says to the newcomers with a nod. "Your arrival is well-timed."
After taking a few minutes to recover from the series of fights, Myron configures his any-tool into a small shovel and moves into the courtyard.
We should move. I hope there's at least something here worth all our trouble. Someone mentioned magic auras under the sand. Can you point them out, so I can dig in the right spot? Afterwards, we should sweep the rooms on this level and the upper floor.
"Shouldn't be a problem," El says. She incants a short arcane phrase and scans the area for magical auras again.
Let me take a look first, states Rakara. We've run into quite a few traps in some of the areas we have searched. She examines the area Myron plans to dig for any sign of a trap.
Elrisiel scans the courtyard once more and again detects two auras just under the sand in the corner of the room. One transmutation and one evocation.
Before Myron can begin digging, Rakara volunteers to check the area for anything suspicious. After a few seconds of prodding the sand and carefully examining the immediate area she determines it safe.
Myron then proceeds to unearth the source of the auras: a suit of scale mail and a light crossbow. Both items seem to have been here a short while, perhaps a few years at best. Along with those items, Myron also digs up five cold iron crossbow bolts, 10 regular crossbow bolts, a golden holy symbol of Sarenrae and some mixed coins. 3 pp, and 37 gp.
The musetouched elf takes the opportunity to attempt to identify the magical items.
Elrisiel was able to determine that the crossbow was indeed mage-touched, which assisted the wielder in targeting more accurately and lethally .
The group then set out to explore the rest of the main floor of the house. Starting at the front door, they found them mysteriously closed again. Dumah and Rakara looked at each other, neither having closed them when they entered.
The room to the east of that turned out to be bath with still functioning magical taps that conjured fresh cold and hot water.
Adjacent to that was the privy. A headless, but otherwise harmless corpse was propped upon the seat. Kheled thought that the body was only a few years old and likely a victim of one of the houses recent inhabitants.
Next was a small chapel room dedicated to Abadar, Pharasma, and Sarenrae. The Ancient Osiriani hieroglyphs on the walls offered praises to the three gods and listed several common prayers to each although something had attempted to deface it.
The north side of the complex was devoted to the kitchen, a dining room and the servants dinning room. The main dinning room, the one the beheaded had been within, contained a silver serving set consisting of six silver goblets worth 45 gp each and six silver plates worth 30 gp each.
The group then returned to the parlor containing the stairs to the second floor. This room contained a significant amount of debris and a search revealed a number of interesting items: silver anklet set with tiny gems and an ankh charm worth 150 gp, a tarnished silver serving tray worth 35 gp, and a small ornate vase worth 75 gp.
In addition, Ahkenaten noticed a ring hidden in the sand upon the floor. Picking it up, a ghostly scene superimposed itself over the ruins of the room, as translucent furniture and decorations like potted palm trees and richly upholstered divans wavered into existence.
In the center of the room, a ghostly young man clasped the hands of ethereal young woman. They spoke in Ancient Osiriani, but everyone could mysteriously understand them, regardless of language.
“I’m so sorry,” the young man said. “I can’t find the ring I bought you anywhere. I just had it!”
“It’s all right, my love,” the girl replied quietly. “It’s not the right time to tell my family anyway.”
“Come with me, Ariseti! Come across the river where we’ll be safe!”
“Not just yet, darling. My father says we’ll be safe here. You go, and when all this is over, you can come back for me, and we’ll announce our engagement then.”
She paused, and reached out to touch the man’s forehead.
“Are you feeling all right? You’re burning up!”
With that the vision ended, at first the figures faded from view, followed by the room and its furnishings.
The vision over, Ahkenaten felt the hot flush of a fever sweep over him, threatening to sicken him...
Kheled looked on with fascination. He had read about haunts before but to encounter a real one...that was a rare treat!
When he realized there was danger...he was too slow to react.
Ahkenaten, let go...
The Professor groans audibly and clutches as his head as his mind is wracked with intense pain. It feels to him as if his mind is aflame.
Ahkenaten's breathing becomes ragged as he struggles to maintain his wits about him.
Elrisiel gives the bard a concerned look. "Are...are you alright?" she asks.
When the professor groans, Dumah draws his blade and turns this way and that, looking for anything that might have caused it. When Elrisiel asks after him, Dumah stops and looks to him for his answer.
Events had gotten away from him somewhat in the horrific fight. Pherenike had suddenly left with a dire sickness, two strangers had arrived in just the nick of time when all seemed lost and in addition to the brand he had already received, he was now struggling to get his thoughts together. his forehead was drenched in sweat and he looked as sick as the ghost had a moment ago. The ring had fallen to the floor and the Professor didn't seem to have noticed.
"We... Well met to you both and th... thank you for the timely assistance. Forgive me, that illusion seems to have adversely affected me... I... i'll be fine. Lets continue o... on. There will be time for more... pleasantries later. I'll take the crossbow, if you please."
The search of the second floor began with the double doors Mus'ad and Myron had seen earlier when the climbed the stairs previously. The spacious room had entrances in the southern and eastern walls. The aged remains of dressers, a large bed, and a divan laid in ruins. The husk of large hornet’s nest, gray, papery, and devoid of life, occupied one corner of the ceiling. The spaces in the northeast and northwest corners appeared to be closets. Their wooden doors having all but fallen off their hinges, and heaps of disintegrated fabric mingled on the floor. Between the closets stood a single lacquered dresser covered in dust.
A search of the room revealed the dresser to be false, a ruse to hide a large bronze chest.
Rakara set about checking the chest and found it to be locked...
...and also trapped.
She made quick work of both the lock and the poisoned bolt trap that was set to fire on anyone opening the chest without disabling it.
Within the strong box were 20 small gold ingots, each bearing a seal.
Plague of Madness, 2,215 years ago.
Also found within the room was a curious looking headband concealed within the hornet nest.
Next up was another bedroom the walls of which were decorated with a scenic vista of a river valley running through a desert, resplendent with verdant life and greenery near the shores. Only a few pieces of lacquered furniture remained in the chamber. A faint, musty odor of decomposed wood and fabric lingered in the air. The headless body of a human man laid on its back in the small alcove to the east. Unlike most of the remains in the house, this body seemed only a year old, and its flesh was in a state of advanced decomposition. Kheled determined quickly the the head had been ripped off rather than cut and the Professor explained that this man had been a victim of a vargouille's "kiss".
Obvious upon the dead man's desiccated finger was a simple gold wedding ring. Plucking it from his hand revealed an inscription: “To Akar from Panhet, Love Eternal.”
The next room was an office, that once searched turned up little of interest apart from broken set of scales, the Pentheru family seal (for marking documents), scattered pieces from a marble chess set (no board is present and half the pieces are missing) and a small brass key that Rakara determined fit the chest she had already disarmed.
Another bedroom followed, the contents almost all reduced to dust and ruin. A few minutes spent searching the room turned up a small rusted dagger, a handful of marbles, and a small lacquered wooden box. The lacquered box is an ancient board game whose rules have been forgotten over time. Inside the box are several small, carved stone playing pieces. The box functions as the game board. Myron figured that to the right Osirionologist, the game might be worth 50 gp as a rare antiquity.
The final room entered was also a bedroom. Dust blanketed the room. The walls, once brightly painted to depict life in ancient Wati, were now faded. A smaller room or alcove took up the northeast section of the room; it once closed off by a wooden door that had since rotted away, leaving only its hinges in the door frame. A strong, cloying odor of decay pervaded the room.
Someone with some considerable artistic talent had painted the murals upon the wall. The scenes painted on the walls depicting the arrival of a Keleshite sultan in Wati by royal barge, a ceremony or possibly a party where a young woman being anointed and crowned while a gathering of onlookers observed, and another where three young women swam in a river while armed guards with spears watched from beneath the shade of a tree.
Buried amid the debris in the room was a large darkwood. Inside wass a white silk Osirian wedding robe that is extremely fragile with age. Elrisiel realized that any attempt to remove the robe from the chest would ruin it, but make whole, mending, or similar magic cast upon the robe prior to handling completely would restore it and make it safe for transport and sale. The chest also contained several pieces of inexpensive jewelry, a strand of freshwater pearls, a small mysterious sealed tube that radiated faint transmutation when examined with detect magic and a long scroll tube which held a rolled-up papyrus painting of a young beautiful woman. The painting is signed in Ancient Osiriani by "Ariseti". The painting had been protected from air for many years and could be safely handled without damaging it.
The entirety of the House of Pentheru having been searched, the group made their way down to the foyer to discuss their next move...
The haunt downstairs...maybe the ring here will lift it? What do you all think?
I would like to give the spirits their due rest.
I think it is worth a try, if you believe it will help some of these poor souls rest. This wretched house has certainly see its share of suffering and anguish.
Not entirely sure what brought the original group here, Dumah perks up at the talk of spirits.
"Putting spirits to rest is a worthy aim. How do we do so? How can I help?"
The musetouched elf quietly contemplates the newly-arrived pair of half-orcs, her facial expression carefully neutral.
Rakara shrugs at Kheled's suggestion.
I'm sure you would know better than I how to deal with unrestful spirits. With a grin that somehow transforms her features into an even more unpleasant arrangement she adds, Pretty much anyone would though.
With a more matter of fact tone she concludes, This is your mission and what happens next is at your discretion but the fewer restless ghosts around the better is my opinion. How to accomplish that is far beyond my realm of knowledge.
At length, Elrisiel ceases staring at the half-orcs. She looks to the Professor. "May I see that ring?" she asks, gesturing at the magical one that seems to have provoked an adverse reaction from him.
I was thinking maybe showing the ring to the ghost in the other room. Possibly that would stop the restless spirit.
If the others agree I would cast resistance and guidance on myself before bringing both rings to the room where we saw the ghost.
I can't see how it would hurt anything...
Ahkenaten looks about somewhat dumbfounded. I don't have it. I must have dropped it. Travelling back downstairs, Elrisiel sees the ring laying right where the Professor dropped it during his convulsions...
Recalling the dropped ring, the musetouched elf goes to stoop down next to it. She murmurs a cantrip and concentrates on the ring, letting the cantrip tease out the particulars of the magic involved.
The rings glows faintly of abjuration magic... helping to protect the wearer from physical harm.
Frowning, the musetouched elf picks the ring up gingerly. "It's got a bit of protective magic to it," she notes.
Myron's brow furrows as he ponders the significance of the haunt the just witnessed, and the state of the headless body upstairs.
"I do no think the two rings are connected. The haunt showed us visions of someone who seemed to be suffering from the plague of madness. But the man upstairs died much more recently. Chances are, he was here on the same kind of business as us. But the real question is whether the haunt will remain in the house if we remove the ring, or if it will follow the ring."
Maybe the priests can help us determine what is going on here or how to help us remove this restless spirit. I saw we go back and rest...I think we could all use it...
"I can show the ring to the haunt, and see if it reacts. The rest of you can keep a safe distance, just far enough to be able to see if it works."
He then looks around, and a puzzled look slowly dawns on his face. "Where is this haunt? And what brought you here anyway? Does this home belong to one of you?"
Dumah takes the ring and adds it the leather thong that holds his holy symbol.
If this ring will harm any of us, it should be me.
He starts to head back to the city with the others, only to turn the wrong way. He moves quickly to follow along behind the others with a better sense of direction.
"No," Elrisiel answers the half-orc paladin. "We were here on an expedition. It met with a few complications. Why don't we head back to civilization? We can figure out our next step once we get back."