Lyrian steps out from behind Heldar and fires again at the lucky halfling enemy.
Lyrian's aim is true-- a crackling arrow buries itself in the halfling's spine, and he drops to the ground, twitching due to the electricity. Shaggar snarls in savage joy.
The Asmodean frowns slightly but does not otherwise react to the sight of one of his team dropping. He gestures and speaks, and a cacophony of noise, like shrieking devils, washes over Rosalia, Heldar, and Lyrian.
Fortunately, none of them succumb to the terrible screaming they hear. However, the buffeting wave of noise makes their eardrums bleed all the same.
The glowing mace chases after Rosalia, and swipes at her.
The cheetah continues to attack Shaggar...
Though Shaggar is able to dodge many of the blows, the relentless assault from cat, half-orc and magic is beginning to wear on him... he weaves a little on his feet, but shows no sign of wishing to retreat.
But then a burst of fire rips from mid-air, as Scepter becomes visible once again.
The fire hits Shaggar like the hand of Asmodeus himself. Shaggar's yip trails off into a whine as the big gnoll drops heavily, his fur smoldering. Scepter's laugh rings off the walls.
"One down! Julistar, can't we take the girl alive? It's been ages since I really had fun...!"
"Patience, let's not get ahead of ourselves," the Chelish man answers. "Lonicera, see to Xaven."
Javi, mind still clouded, switches tactics against the foul summoned creature. He springs around it, slashing out with his blade before retreating back towards his teammates.
Lyrian targets the now-revealed arcane caster and waits for him to try to cast a spell.
With a few magical words, the oracle conjures a magical spell that bursts atop the conjured cheetah, filling the area with a brilliant flash of shimmering light.
Then his light form moves towards Rosalia, hovering over her for a split second, and healing her wounds, then back to the corner.
Shaggar and Xaven's bodies don't appreciably twitch as the holy light washes over them. Julistar, the half-orc, and the man with the stick all wince in pain, however.
"Target him," Julistar snarls. Scepter answers shortly, "I will when I can see again!"
Shaggar's wounds are somewhat healed by Heldar's powerful bond with the forces of life. Hatyah, meanwhile, only knows that someone is attacking her. Snarling, she tries to pinpoint where the smell of her attacker is.
The hyena turns her head in Javi's direction.
The hyena runs Javi's way! However, it seems that hunting around for him with her nose cost her a potential attack for now.
Rosalia, meanwhile, gasps out a ragged "Thanks!" to Heldar for the healing (well, she assumes he's the one healing her, anyway; she can't see him). She still can't see, so instead of trying to maintain her focus on the ice spell riming her weapon, she instead draws a wand from her person and taps herself with it. Rosalia takes a step to greater shelter from the wall, since apparently she's still being hit by something.
The sound of the woman's voice singing comes closer down the hall, passing by Javi. By just a general idea of the sound, you'd wager she's now joined the others in the central section of the hallway. Words of spellcasting briefly interrupt her singing, and the half-orc's wounds heal a little bit.
"Thanks," the half-orc grunts. "Can't see right now. Orders, boss?"
"Hold defensively until your vision clears," Julistar says shortly. "Lonicera, their halfling is coming up behind us..."
From mid-air, the woman's voice says, "He and the hyena have been attacking each other. Leave them be."
The half-orc grunts, and hunkers down with his huge shield raised again. The last bits of the gunk rip away from his armored form.
Lyrian sights along his arrow, aiming it at the man with the stick, watching for spell-casting.
Lyrian, you caught a glimpse of the method by which the man with the stick was immolating people-- it seems to be a wand, lashed to the stick-weapon he's carrying. If he continues to use that, then he wouldn't be casting a spell in the normal sense, and your arrow wouldn't stop him from using the wand. He seems to be blinded right now, however.
Having realized that the wizard (for so he deems him) isn't actually casting a spell, Lyrian decides on Plan B: Shooting him.
"Rosalia, we need Javi, Hatyah and Shaggar. Anything you can do for them, do it now."
"Smart, buddy, now would be a good time for a reapparance!"
Lyrian's arrrow definitely hits. The rangy man cries out and grabs at the spot where the sparking arrow has pierced his leather armor.
Rosalia answers Lyrian's words with a huff. "I'm not a healer! I stab people-- when I can see!"
"This is getting tedious," growls Julistar. Since he can no longer see Rosalia, he gestures shortly, reorienting his hellish mace onto Lyrian. The mace swings, and cracks Lyrian in the shin.
He urges the cheetah forward. It lopes down the hall over the downed halfling, bounding towards Lyrian as well.
Then he steps forward and touches the enemy halfling, muttering words beneath his breath. Xaven's chest heaves and his eyes flutter open.
The man with Lyrian's arrow in him drops down to the ground, hunkering defensively as he tries to clear his eyes from the bright light of Heldar's spell.
Javi and Heldar, you're up!
Javi continues his desperate struggle against the summoned fiend, dodging around to find an opening—into which he jams his blade—before tumbling back to his starting point. In his brain-addled state, being underfoot while remaining out of reach of the half-orc seems smart.
"Play smart master guide!" - Heldar shouts above the din of combat at Shaggar, launching another spell towards their opponents - once he is finished, the area of the corridor where their adversaries are concentrated is blasted with a tremendous cacophony.
As the sound consumes his opponents, the Oracle glows in a pale golden light even further, healing his own wounds.
Heldar bombards the area with divine sound, and both the Asmodean and the big half-orc momentarily seem struck still by the noise. The half-orc drops his falcata, the blade making a ringing echo on the marble.
The halfling thief looks much the worse for wear, but he is conscious... barely. Looking like he'd much rather be lying still, the halfling picks up his own dagger, dropped when he fell unconscious. But he doesn't notice that Shaggar is conscious too, watching him through one slitted yellow eye.
Shaggar misses. The effort causes a little more blood to spurt from his many wounds.
Shaggar gives a weary nod to show he's heard Heldar. The gnoll is grievously injured-- it doesn't seem he could still be moving, with the many burns and cuts on his body-- but he is, and does. He takes advantage of the stunned condition of those surrounding him to stand up. The halfling could take a swipe with his dagger, but he doesn't, lying there miserably. Shaggar snaps at the little thief, not even bothering to pick up his greataxe yet.
More accurately speaking, Shaggar rips the thief's throat out. There's no words, just a summary, brutal, animal pragmatism.
Hatyah's body lies a number of feet away, canine chest rising and falling weakly.
Rosalia tries to orient by sound as to where the enemies are. She hears the sound of the cheetah and moves awkwardly towards it. "Watch out, Lyrian, I'm swinging blind," she mutters.
"...never mind, I can see," she says, and grins fiercely.
The sounds of casting come from thin air, and a few more of the big half-orc's injuries heal.
But, senses still blasted from the spell that Heldar cast, the half-orc merely stands there, sword hand empty.
Lyrian, it seems that perhaps the tide is shifting-- one foe is dead beyond the chance to save, two of them stand confounded... what would you like to do?
Lyrian backed up a step and aimed his arrow squarely at Julistar's chest.
"You have a chance to stop this," he said. "Leave your weapons, take your wounded and walk away. We won't come looking for revenge if you go now. But by the Heavens if you hurt one more of my companions, I will hunt you down with my last breath."
Julistar does not answer Lyrian; in fact, he does nothing at all, standing there hands slack at his side, the shield strapped to one arm slightly lowered, and his gaze fixed on some point in the middle distance.
The cheetah, on the other hand, was given orders, and its master is not currently ordering it to do anything else, so... it steps in close to Lyrian and lets loose with teeth and claws.
The red glowing mace mindlessly follows Lyrian and attacks as well, since the spell does so unless directed otherwise.
You all do notice that the half-orc no longer seems to be moving as fast as he was at the start of the fight.
The man with the stick, however, answers... after a fashion. "Oh, burn in the pits," he sneers, jumping back to his feet now that he can see again. He trusts to the unseen woman's words that Javi isn't a threat to do so. He takes a step, brings up his stick, and aims it at Lyrian.
However, the beam of fire burns past Lyrian's head, leaving a scorched black streak on the marble.
Javi stands in place, murmuring softly to himself.
Heldar, you're up! (And Lyrian if he wishes to fire.)
Heck yeah. The offer was to the team. Lyrian targets their leader and fires.
Heldar bears the burden and pain from his companions, but he is not deterred, and nods with satisfaction as some of their enemies drop what they are carrying, weapons included.
Intent on tipping the balance in their favor, he continues casting, targeting the man with the stick.
Shaggar grins a bloody, bestial grin at realizing the half-orc hasn't picked up his sword yet. The Asmodean looks fairly wounded, so Shaggar snatches up his own great-axe from the ground and lays into him.
Shaggar's fury is evident-- he strikes retribution for all the pain in the fight so far, for Hatyah, downed in the corner, and for the fact that the Asmodean made him attack Rosalia. His blow hits, hard-- and the Chelish priest sprawls to the ground, his face slashed wide open from Shaggar's devastating axe blow.
Hatyah's limp body continues to twitch...
At seeing Julistar fall, Rosalia shouts, "Good-- I forgive you for biting me! Now let me just get rid of this damn cheetah--"
"...or not," Rosalia seethes, and only drives the sword in once, without the spell, to the cat.
The sound of singing stops. The man called Scepter looks briefly confused. "Lonicera?" he growls.
The half-orc also frowns, looking at the battlefield and their downed leader less than happily... and at Shaggar's blood-dripping muzzle. He raises his giant tower shield and tries to knock Shaggar back a few steps.
Seeing that it failed, he simply picks up his dropped sword, granting Shaggar a free swing...
...which the half-orc still manages to catch on his shield, and turn to one side. "Don't see the profit in keeping this going," he rumbles over his shoulder, not to you, but to his remaining colleagues.
The cheetah continues doing what it was last told to do, as a mindless magical construction. Though its attacks seem less powerful, without the singing to spur it on.
The red mace hovers uncertainly, then drifts back in the air to hang above Julistar's body.
The gurgling noises from Julistar cease.
Lyrian, you're up!
Lyrian winced in pain as the cheetah claws him. Done with talking, he backed up to the wall and continued to fire at Scepter.
Very fortunately for Shaggar, Lyrian's arrow finds its mark, burying itself in the shoulder of the stick-wielding man before he can bring his fiery rays to bear on the big gnoll. With a snarl, the man goes down, his body blasted by both divine and electrical energies.
Javi.... your senses haven't cleared, exactly... everything seems a whirling rush, and there were those bright lights... but you look from foe to foe, struggling to see a friendly face. There's the hyena-daemon, downed; three others on the ground you can't really be sure if you know or not.... and a big half-orc. That big half-orc's probably a bad guy. He's not looking your way, either.
Javi rushes forward, screaming his tiny guts out as he slashes wildly at the only thing he thinks might be a valid target.
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A few more of Shaggar's significant injuries close shut. The gnoll looks with dull, tired, but still-savage hatred at the half-orc. The axe and the teeth strike once more, as Shaggar locks eyes briefly with Javi, saying nothing right now... unsure if his ally is an ally again.
Battered and injured as he is, the half-orc's enormous shield and well-made armor continue to turn Shaggar's tired axe-swings-- but Shaggar manages, with animal instinct, to get in one bite, at least.
Rosalia irritably steps forward, as frustrated as Javi is with her current inability to destroy their foes. "I'm coming to help you as soon as I can get rid of this cat!" she yells.
This time, the spell casts true, and her blade rimes with ice. She plunges it into the cat.
She hits... by a hair.
The cheetah's body rimes over with ice, and it drops unmoving to the ground. "Finally!" Rosalia shouts.
You can hear nothing from the unseen woman. The half-orc looks around the battlefield, and the fact that he's the only one standing here at the moment. Sucks to be alone.
"Hell with it, I'll give a good accounting to Gorum," he growls, and swings powerfully at Shaggar.
Thanks to the last bits of light in his eyes from Heldar's spell the half-orc misses.
The half-orc shakes his head a little at Shaggar's tenacity, and takes a step to the side, trying to guard against both the halfling and the gnoll.
Y'all are up!
Javi ignores the leering gnoll-creature, stepping behind the half-orc before hacking once again with his small blade.
"You would do well to surrender" - Heldar approaches, ceasing his life link with all but Shaggar.
"As well as your invisible companion - it is your chance to live" - he adds to the half-orc, laying a hand on Shaggar, and unleashing a powerful healing spell - "You are safe"
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Javi, still in a fight for his life—and still thinking everyone around is out to kill him—shoots Heldar a distinctly IMA CUT YOU! look.
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Sensing the end coming, Lyrian continues to fire, but now with a little less fervor.
The half-orc turns towards Heldar with a jaded shrug-- just before Javi's blade bites into him, deep. He snarls, staggering-- his armor is running with blood, but he's somehow still on his feet...
...but then Lyrian's arrow hits him, and that ceases to be true.
End Round 8
Lyrian believes in allies first, enemies second. He rushes to Hatyah's side and casts cure light wounds to staunch the bleeding.
Heldar extends his Life Link to connect to Hatyah again, and make sure the hyena will live and be healed.
"We need to find the invisible one" - he urges his companions - "I will try to stabilize one of the fallen - there is still much information to be garnered"
When the mind-muddle finally wears off, Javi spends nearly a full minute in shocked silence … caught between outrage, shame, and embarrassment. Feeling the sudden need to be useful, he stows his blade and begins helping Shaggier bind each of their unconscious opponents.
When done, he moves over to Hatyah, bending down to be face-to-muzzle with her . He lets out a series of yip, barks, and plaintiff growls.
He looks up at the massive gnoll, his tone remaining.
Moving on with the emotional speed only Javi and hummingbirds can attain, he raises his voice. ”Hey! Whoever’s left! WE know you’re here somewhere! Your team is beat. Your employer is down! He forced the fight after we offered you all the chance to wait until we were finished here. Come out and talk to us … we don’t want to hurt anyone we don’t have to. And that could definitely include you!”
The team rush to see to Shaggar's downed animal friend. Shaggar gives Lyrian and Heldar a weary nod of thanks for the healing as he cradles Hatyah's body close. In a few moments' time, the hyena's eyes flutter and she weakly headbutts into Shaggar's big clawed hand. The gnoll looks as emotional as any of you have ever seen him, skritching the hyena gently behind her ears.
Shaggar's eyes track Javi's approach, then he responds in the same growling tongue.
Gazing up at Rosalia from where he is sitting on the ground, Shaggar says to her, "Javi was just apologizing for attacking my friend... I must do the same for striking at you."
Rosalia shrugs awkwardly. ".....well, I did it to Heldar, so... I guess none of us are really responsible for any of that. Heldar and Lyrian are the only ones of us who haven't... succumbed, one way or another."
Heldar busies himself with the fallen foes. The half-orc is very much dead; so is the Chelaxian himself, and Xaven the halfling. The lean man with the stick appears to still be breathing, and Heldar is able to stabilize him, before he is safely bound.
There is no response, verbal or otherwise, to Javi's calling out a terms-of-surrender.
Shaggar is still heavily injured, as is Hatyah; Rosalia's somewhat beaten up, but Heldar pumped a lot of healing into her over the course of the fight.
Xaven seems to still have similar gear as the first time you searched him, back on the rooftops of Sothis. A magical chain shirt, sized small , a finely-made desert travelling cloak , a few vials of liquid that don't detect as magical, a bulb of garlic on a string around his neck, a glass cutter, a flask of holy water, a set of curiously weighted bone dice, a tiny stone jar that rattles as if something hard is within, a flask of a greasy-looking substance, a set of quality lockpicking tools, and a few other inexpensive sundries useful to a thief. This time, you notice something that wasn't there the last time you searched him: a fresh-looking burn scar on the nape of his neck, in the shape of an Asmodean pentagram.
The body of the half-orc is outfitted for desert travel, though his armor was surely beastly hot under the sun. Aside from dusty trousers tucked into heavy, hobnailed boots, and a plain linen-and-cotton gambeson over a dirty tunic, the half-orc is wearing a well-made breastplate of northern steel-work, though neither it nor the massive, man-high shield he was using are magical. His blade, a Taldane falcata, is beautifully balanced and does show up as magical. He was carrying two potions, and a nicely made travelling cloak not unlike a larger version of the one the halfling had on. Aside from that, everything else he was carrying appears to be mundane traveling supplies-- rope, a waterskin, a sturdy pack, dry rations, a solider's bedroll and mess kit, and nothing that doesn't look to have been kept for purely utilitarian reasons.
The Asmodean has more interesting items on his person. Beneath his devil-decorated robe, he is wearing a tunic of maille that is clearly of quality make, the links made of a reddish steel. A shield was strapped to his forearm, painted with the sigil of Imperial Cheliax; this too is magical.
Searching his pockets and his traveling pack, you find other things of note: a scroll, which you are quickly able to determine is a scroll of Remove Curse , a finely stitched headband with words of Infernal embroidered upon it, , and a wand of ebony, capped with a silver ring . He also has a symbol of Asmodeus, made of gold, on a golden chain, and a signet ring carved of black onyx that looks familiar... after a few moments of looking at it, Rosalia fishes out an identical ring from a pocket.
"This is the ring we found in that pile of dust in the entrance atrium," she says. "Exactly like it. If he was telling the truth about Imivus being his grandfather, maybe it's a family signet ring?"
Julistar's pack contains similar sundries of travel as you might find for anyone prepared for the desert, and a coin-pouch containing a few dozen platinum pieces, small gemstones, and other currency.
There is also a journal, the text in Infernal. Fortunately, Heldar knows the tongue of hell, and is able to translate a few select entries.
...
...group of ragtag scoundrels at the auction. Scepter tells me he thinks them to be members of his former organization. No matter; let them congratulate themselves on grabbing a scroll. They'll make a convenient scapegoat for our night's work. Lonicera has already made contact with them, and we know what the brute of a gnoll looks like, so a bit of misdirection seems like perfect poetic justice.
...
...cannot believe the incompetence of the halfling. In one day he has transformed the success of my plans into near disaster, letting himself be first captured by these Pathfinders, our plans compromised, and the mask taken by them! We have no choice but to pursue them down the river. With any luck, the squad of soldiers I sent ahead to the pyramid site will take the initiative in ambushing them... but only a fool trusts in luck. I myself will trust to enchantments of speed, placed upon our boat, and the power of Hell.
I have made my displeasure clear to Xaven. If he dies a second time, he will wish that I had let him remain dead the first. Useless idiot.
...
The gnoll slew the slavemaster of our galley. Scepter shot at him in turn, but missed. This will delay us at least an hour. My patience grows thin. I think I shall call up my patron and see what he has to share about these Pathfinders...
...
We reached Nemhep today. From the tales of those on the streets, the accursed Pathfinders were here yesterday, and have already left. I trust my sergeant and his squadron will deal with them, or at least keep an eye on their doings.
...
The last entry:
Here at last. No sign of the squad. I would write more, but I tremble with the fulfillment of my decades of study. The entrance awaits.
You have one unconscious bad guy, the fellow with the stick, Scepter by name. He has a very nice-looking chain shirt made of mithral , his stick-weapon (on close inspection, it appears to have both wooden and metal parts, as well as a wand fitted into a groove along the end of it), the usual desert traveling gear, a number of small, elongated metal pellets, a pouch of black grit, and a necklace that radiates magic . The wand is a wand of scorching ray, and has 11 charges remaining.
What would you like to do?
Javi finishes up his nuzzling-apology to Hatyah and nods thankfully over at Shaggar. He already seems to be back to his normal self as he continues his entreaty of the woman to show herself.
”Miss, you may be thinking we want to kill you. You’d be wrong.” He shrugs, ”You may be thinking you’re better off alone and trying to make contact with your employer’s other team.” He pauses to consider this, ”Please don’t do that. Their camp was inside the base of this place when it appeared … meaning they’re likely dead or worse already. And even if they aren’t, you trying to get there means going against this place’s threats alone … which is a terrible idea.” He finishes with an ernest plea into the emptiness around him. ”My suggestion is to show yourself or to get gone. Go home, tell no one that you came here, and go on about your life.”
He shrugs to the group.
Then Javi starts with the other halfling thief’s body, quickly pocketing the holy water before moving on to work over the mystery of the other curiosities.
Javi looks up at mention of the ring. ”Did we ever learn what it does?
Otherwise, Javi watches his teammates sort through their opponents’ gear, ”We should rest before pressing further. And I don’t like the idea of leaving these bodies here while we do so. We’ve seen too many things that should be dead walking around and … ya know … attacking us. Strip their gear and roll’em out into the sun? I can’t really think of anything better, as much as I don’t like leaving bodies out there to bake and attract scavengers.”
Lyrian listens with interest to Javi's plea to the empty air, but says nothing. He thinks of Smart and misses the interesting fellow.
"I think we're no longer in a hurry," said Lyrian. "And though they doubtless would have rolled our corpses out the door if they did not reanimate them with evil magic, I am not so disposed. I will bury them, if only in the sand."
"But first, we should used that wand of cure light wounds to heal ourselves."
Unless anyone objects, he'll do just that, using the wand to cure everyone, starting with the worst injuries first. He'll hold off healing the prisoner for the moment, but he will save one charge for that purpose.
Once everyone is healed up, Lyrian says "I want to heal this man and ask him some questions. Any objections?"
"Do we have enough rope to get their bodies and us down there to bury ... then us back up again?"
He looks at the unconscious Sceptre, "Knock yourself out. Or un-knock him out, I guess."
Javi, the greasy flask smells like pig lard as well as some other things. You think it might be meant for smearing over your body in order to make yourself be able to squeeze into tight places, or to escape the grip of larger opponents, that sort of thing. You're not sure about the other two vials; the little stone jar is sealed quite tightly, with wax around it to keep air from getting inside, but you don't know exactly what might be in it.
Rosalia is casting spells over the new ring. "This one's not magical. I don't think it 'does' anything. It's just his family crest. The original one might have been that man's... well, you know how I have Rook? He's not just a pet, he helps me with magic. Some people like animals for that, and some people like items."
There is still no answer to Javi's offer of peace, yelled out into the tomb; but they do have someone else to ask questions of. With the man securely bound and his stick taken for Rosalia to squint at and cast more spells on, the last charge of the wand is used to bring him to a coughing, wheezing consciousness.
He squints up blearily from the marble floor. Shaggar sits implacably before him, looking grim and weary, flexing his claws. "I remember what it felt like to burn from that fire," he growls, not to the man, but to the others. "Someone who is in a better mood than me should ask the questions. Unless he refuses. Then I can ask the questions."
The man's eyes dart around the group, from face to face, as he tenses in his bonds.
When the man’s eyes open, Javi grins cheerily down at him. ”You’re an idiot. AND a bad judge of character.” He crosses his arms and shakes his head with exaggerated regret, ”You should have taken my offer.”
His face turns serious, "Now we have to figure out what to do with you." He looks around emphatically, "It's not exactly like we've many good options. Say ... what would your good friend the Chelaxian devil-lover have done with you in our place, I wonder?"
Now that you're not in pitched battle, you can look the lean man over at your leisure: his skin is the olive hue common to those of Qadira, bronzed and weathered by a life in sun and wind. A thin black mustache perches atop his upper lip, and his eyes are dark and narrowed to slits as he looks up at Javi, then to Shaggar and the others.
He tests the ropes with a flex of his lean arms and finds them secure enough. A thin, sardonic smile twitches over his mouth, and he shrugs up at Javi.
"Should I coat it in honey? What would be the point? Julistar would kill a prisoner, of course, once he'd learned all he thought useful from them. Anyone who claims to have more noble intentions is a fool. Spare me the theatre. What are you going to ask me, let's get this over with."
"Ha!" Javi barks out brightly, "oh, no ... you've got me all wrong. This isn't theater. I'm gloating. What's life if you don't enjoy a bit of it every once in a while, am I right?"
He shrugs, "Besides, what could you possibly tell us? You're not even smart enough to back the right horse at the races."
The bound man rolls his eyes. "Gloat, then. And ask no questions if you will not. It's your time to waste, after all-- not like I'm going anywhere," he points out with another cynical smirk. He looks away from Javi, gazing at Rosalia instead as she studies the weapon he'd used.
"Yes you are," said Lyrian. "You're going out the door. The manner in which you go and whether you're breathing at the time is entirely up to you. I don't kill bound men, but I won't shed any tears over leaving you to die of thirst in the desert, either. Tell us what we want to know and I'll give you a flask of water and a horse and let you go. There's enough death here already."
"Tell us what you were here for. What was the thing Julistar wanted and what did he know about how to get it? Don't lie, because you're not going to be released unless we succeed. Death of thirst may take longer in here, but it will come all the same. Your only shot at a life is for us to succeed."
Javi punctuates Lyrian's "offer" with a chipper smile.