"Okay", whispered Belgrim, "let's storm the barricade and take those crossbows out!
Ready... - says the nervous Goblin, clearly afraid but trying to pretend he's brave.
Thrals will whisper to Belgrim." Wait we have a human hostage. Maybe we can convince them we're good people?"
Hissing,"just don't say hostage."
The dwarf looks at the kobold nonplussed. "We haven't met ANY good people so far, and I'm betting neither have they", whispered Belrim.
The Hallway
As the patients' make ready to storm the barricade from around the corner a human female with long flowing black hair steps out speaking quietly but loud enough for you all to hear.
"Anything Captain York?"
"No ma'am", one of the guards replies. "Though we heard some shuffling on the other side but nothing tried to breach the barrier so I figure we are ok".
Another of the men states, "I hope we get more of those shapeshifters coming our way, they have a lot to answer for".
The newly arrived female retorts, "They do but I do not share your sentiments. I hope they all wander off so we can find a way out of this place..."
The woman has a sword that protrudes from her black cloak but no ranged weaponry.
The dwarf looks to others, with a confused look on his bearded face. Belrim then mouths the words, "Parlay?"
Grendl nods emphatically and makes a slight bow and a gesture with his arm, indicating someone else should talk to them.
Looking around to his inhuman companions, understanding settles on Belrim's brow:
If anyone of us is going to parlay, it has to be me.
The dwarf whispers a curse under his breath. "Fu<k!"
Sheathing his battleaxe and shield on his back, the dwarf sighs heavily , motioning the others to step back a few paces, and shouts over the barricade, "Oi! No shapeshifters here, but four who wish to parlay!"
Thral moves beside Belrim, making sure that his weapon is sheathed and he takes on a servile posture.
"We killed one of those, shapeshifters and found it's human victim alive, he's safe."
The Hallway
The humans in the hallway scramble for cover before they realize that you did not attack. The woman, who appears to be some sort of leader calls back, "That's not the first time we've heard these lies! If you are not some sort of shape shifters you have two ways to make us trust you. First, bring the one you killed and the human you rescued, alive. Second, north along the hallway are a few more of these things that keep trying to break through our defenses. Not sure how you missed them if you came from that way but, if you kill them you'll certainly earn our trust".
"But Winter", states one of the men, "we can't even see 'em through the barricade what if'n the're some sort o' monsters!?"
The woman replies, "I don't care what they are, the enemy of our enemy will be our friend in this predicament..."
"Great", scowled Belrim at a whisper. "Do we pull a half-crazed human and a doppelganger's corpse up a ventilation shaft or kill the horrible things behind the door?"
"Sounds like they want us to do both things... easier to bring the human and the corpse first I think.. then go kill things." Grendl whispers back.
I have a bad feeling about this! - whispers back the Goblin, still shaking to his core.
Nevertheless, though... - he continues - ... Kaloora agrees we need to pull the breathing longshanks and the thingie body here.
Thral will let out a low snarl.
"We don't have a choice, they're probably better armed than us. I will go drag up the corpse."
Thral heads back down to find the shapeshifter's corpse.
Belrim follow Thral down to find Campre and convince him they found other survivors and he should follow them up.
Once Thral makes his way to the corpse he attempts to drag it up the furnace.
The Thral struggles to drag the beast up, he may of been the strongest kobold of his tribe, alas he was still a kobold.
"Belrim, you and the man go up first. It's going to be mess with this corpse."
Thral draws his Falchion and starting hacking away at the waist of the shapeshifter in order to lighten the load.
The Hallway
"You found survivors? Is Winter among them?" he asks as Thral begins to hack the shapeshifter into manageable parts.
Thral pauses to clear up his face from the blood, out of the scarred sigil on his face and out of his eyes.
"Winter, Winter, Winter? Yesss I think there is a Winter and York while we're at it."
Kaloora looks to Grendl, as they wait for the others.
Frog friend casts spells too, right? - he whispers, trying to not be heard - Kaloora doesn't know how he can cast spells, but Kaloora likes it.
Thral covered in viscera, trails after the belrim and Campre. Draging the shapeshifter's bisected corpse up the shaft.
Once returning to Kaloora and Grendl, Thral clibs up the barricade dragging the corpse with him.
The black scaled kobold hold the corpse over his head. "Here's your proof!" Tossing down the corpse.
Thral sits on top of the make shift barricade, catching his breath.
"Campre is injured, so it might be hard for him to climb."
Thral huffed and hissed
The Hallway
Campre nods to Thral, "Good, I am glad she is well!"
The patients' assist Campre in climbing and drag the sum of the corpse parts up through the ventilation shaft and to the first floor. The patients' neither see nor hear any movements coming from the north where the other shapechangers are rumored to be located.
------
Once Thral unceremoniously dumps the corpse of the shapechanger on the other side of the barricade. The men train their crossbows on Thral with a look of fear on their faces. Winter raises her hand, "Stop! Do not shoot him! We asked he and his comrades to perform a task. Now we must hear them out".
Three of the four warrior rush to clear the barricade out of the way to allow Campre and the rest of you through. The one named York still has his crossbow in hand as you all approach. They just as quickly put the barricade back in place.
Winter grasps Campre by the arm, "You made it. Thank Pharasma!" Campre looks back to her, "I would not have if not for the bravery of these four". He gestures towards all of you.
York chimes in, "How do we know he's not a shapechifter!?"
Campre sighs, "All I can tell you is that I am not". York frowns but does not press the issue further.
Winter turns to the four of you, "Tell me, were you patients here? How did you come to be here? You certainly were not staff, I would have remember you though I was not here long before the events unfolded".
York chimes in, "How do we know he's not a shapechifter!?"
"I don't claim to know much about shapeshifters and such, stated Belgrim to the man called York, "but I doubt shapeshifters torture and mutilate their own."
Winter turns to the four of you, "Tell me, were you patients here? How did you come to be here? You certainly were not staff, I would have remember you though I was not here long before the events unfolded".
The dwarf was going to expound further, but gave Winter a good long dwarven look.
"So you arrived here not long before the attack of the shapeshifters?" With that, Belgrim gave Winter a accusatory huff. "Isn't that interesting?"
Thral let's out a small chuckle when the men have their crossbows aimed on him."As I live and breathe, men that are afraid of a small injured Kobold."
Thral looks at Belrim with discontent,"Don't look a dragon in the mouth! We're out numbered and out equipped. We need to work together, otherwise we will all die in this hole."
Thral tilts his head up towards Winter,"I don't know how I got here. I was running from some fog, got attacked by some creature and woke up from a nightmare only to be in one. Maybe we're still dreaming? But why are you here? You didn't attack us which is good, but information is helpful as well."
Me not shapeshiffer either ... me like Thral... wake up here, not know why. What be 'events'?" Grendl may not express himself well in common, but he is as curious about these longshanks as they are about him and his group.
Beyond the Barricade
York spits he is so angry at the accusation lain down by Belrim, "How dare you...."
Winter smiles at Belrim, "Yes, that is the sort of suspicion that I would expect. It is what almost prevented all of us survivors from working together.
You have earned my trust, for now. Your group is an odd collection. Your races are ones that normally, with the exception of you Dwarf, do not get along with humans or have outright hostility towards them. Perhaps it is the other way around, perhaps humans have hostility towards your races hostility and we project our hate upon you.
None of that matters here and now. You need answers but what my people need is assistance. Your group seems capable so I'll give you all an option as to how you can help us. Aid me in caring for the survivors here or slay the remaining shapsehifters that lurk in the northern hall. Do either of those and you shall have my full trust and the cooperation of us all".
Still giving Winter a hard look, Belrim ponders, I'd rather kill shapeshifters, but I will defer to the group".
"Me can heal a little... but maybe if work together, killing shapeshifters might be easier?" he looks to the group for some consensus of opinion.
K-Kaloora rather go deal with other shapeshifters! - said the Goblin, pretending to be brave but clearly stuttering.
"That's it, we will kill the rest of them."
Thral unsheathes his falchion.
"Well", says Belrim, looking to the humans(?), clapping his hands together, "any recommendations on where to start?"
Beyond the Barricade
Winter points back beyond the barrier, "North through one of those doors these shapeshifters lick their wounds from the crossbow bolts we fired into them".
"Of course", mumbled Belrim. I should have known.
When the group leaves the barrier, the dwarf lingers in the rear, heavy pick drawn, constantly looking back to the humans, thinking how easy it would be for some shapeshifter to shoot them in the back.
Thral looks back at Belrim, drawing his falchion.
He whispers to the group."At least if something goes wrong back there, we can't be blamed for it."
Kaloora follows in silence, hiding in the middle of the group the best he can.
The Hunt Begins!
As the patients' begin once again to head north, Belrim is relieved, or perhaps disappointed, that they are not s##% in the back by the distrustful group of humans they just left behind.
You all pass the two doors that led to storage on the right and continue to walk up the hallway heading north. Soon enough you reach a part of the hall where the walls between the hall and an office to your right have largely collapsed, exposing debris-cluttered desks, toppled lockers, and several bodies that almost look human.
To your left is a closed door.
North is more darkened hallway.
The dwarf quietly moves to the door going east, and puts his head to the door, listening for movement or voices.
Kaloora inspects the debris while Belrim goes check the door.
Thral move towards the corspes, slashing and biting at them ensuring they're not waiting to strike.
Grendl waits for Belrim to check the door, ready in case he opens it.
The Hunt Begins!
Belrim listens at the western door and hears nothing as Grendl anxiously awaits.
Thral and Kaloora enter the ruined office and the Kobold does not hesitate to strike at the bodies in the room. His attacks all meet with success and soon it is clear that all of these bodies are just that, bodies. None live or unlive. Thral notices that some of the bodies are humans while a few of the bodies are twisted dopplegangers slain by several crossbow bolts apiece. Thral also notices that lengths of flesh have been stripped from the corpses - human and doppelganger alike.
Kaloora finds some useful items including a wooden holy symbol of Pharasma, a small steel mirror, and a pair of gaudy
red leather boots with cat skin lining and in one of the lockers a Masterwork Silver Dagger. However, none of these items register as magical.
Belrim twists his neck 'no' to Grendl, to indicate no sounds.
The dwarf then nods over to the goblin and the kobold to see what they found.
Stepping lightly, Belrim reports "No sound coming from the eastern door. Any luck?"
"I-I mean, western door."
Thral reports back to Belrim.
"Nine dead total, six humans, three shifters killed by bold. All had flesh flayed."
Belrim nodded.
The dwarf was beginning to appreciate the kobold's directness, and the grippli's support. The goblin..well..it's a goblin. At least, I don't wish it's death.
"Well, let's hope they stay dead. In this place, who knows. Should we take the western door or brave the dark north?"
"Dark is good... but open door first, yes. make sure nothing comes up behind us as we go into the dark, eh?"
Grendl listens at the door to see if he can hear anything beyond it.
Distracted with the items he found, Kaloora enumerates them to his comrades.
Here! Friends! Kaloora very useful. Found items. - he said - This religious symbol of the skinny skeleton Lady Goddess of Death, small steel framed reflective water thingie that longshanks ladies like, this silver knife of great quality... And that! Red leather boots with cat skin, expensive looking! Nothing magical, though.
Belrim nods at Grendl, then addresses the rest.
"I hold no claim over the found items. Divide the spoils and I'll wait for you at the western door.
The dwarf then walks back to the western door, hand on handle, waiting for his comrades.
The Western Door
The companions allow Kaloora to hold onto the loot for now as the danger here is palpable even though you have yet to see anything you can feel it lurking nearby...
Belrim takes in a sharp breath and opens the door. Sturdy racks and toppled tables suggest this space once served as a sizable laundry. Much of the northern end of the room is filled with rubble.
However, its the scene of gore dangling nearby that capture your full attention. A wall of pipelike crossbeams fills the western alcove of this room. Three figures are manacled to the rack here, from south to north:
(1) a human wearing stained yellow sheets as robes and bearing a flame-shaped chalk mark upon his forehead,
(2) the corpse of a partially eaten patient, and
(3) a Ghoul.
It appears that their chains allows them to slide across the beams, even if painfully. The human looks towards Belrim and exclaims, "Praise!" He is as far north as he can get from the Ghoul.
The man in the middle is clearly dead, and partially eaten by the ghoul who is right next to him dangling! The Ghoul spits out some of the flesh he was just chewing and addresses Belrim!
"I...I am... was... Argade", he growls.
To the south about 50' is another door.
"Hello, Was Argade", the dwarf addressing the ghoul. "I am Belrim. I am here to end your misery."
Looking over to the human in the yellow sheets, something about the human rubs the dwarf the wrong way.
Is he another shapeshifter, or something worse?