With tears brimming in his gnomish eyes, Zafzalurg bellows as he slices wildly at the beast:
"THIS IS FOR MARIGOLD, THE RAT WHAT YOU JUST TURNED TO PASTE!"
Zaf rakes his sickle across the goblin's back as it flicks the rat's blood off it's cruel looking sword. Bleeding from a myriad of wounds, the goblin looks beaten and worn down, but continues to stab and swing like a creature possessed.
Unable to move closer to the goblin without putting himself at risk, Hieronymous looks on helplessly.
"If only I could get close enough..."
Seeing the mutant taking hits from all sides, Garrokmal renews his attack. I think the rest of them are as tired as I am... But we'll put an end to this thing soon enough. Hoping to put an end to it once and for all, he takes a mighty swing with his longsword.
Sensing the goblin's weakness, Garrok buries his sword in the goblin's skull. The monster mutters, "Kor...uvus'...kill..." before collapsing to the stone floor and ceasing to move.
With the battle done, Hieronymous looks down at the flimsy wooden grate on the floor at his feet.
"I wonder what manner of foul creatures are doing all the moaning, more three armed goblins?" he asks, as he bends down a little and pulls the grate off of the hole in the floor.
"Careful! We wouldn't want to release something even more dangerous than this freak..."
Garrok looks over the mutated physiology of the dead goblin, looking for valuables as well. "That extra arm doesn't look stitched on or anything - what could have birthed such a monstrous thing?"
Once he's done inspecting Koruvus's corpse, He looks at the doors in the floor. After he's had a good look around the room, he prepares to venture through the south door.
"Unless anyone is interested in getting some rest, let's see what else we have in store down here..."
You peer into the pits, past the flimsy wooden pole hatches to see a twenty foot drop and a moaning, well decayed humanoid below. It appears that each of the pits contains a zombie attempting to climb out of the pits, but with no coordination, its an impossible task.
A quick search of Koruvus reveals very little but the weapons that he assaulted you with. Detect magic reveals the blade to be a +1 longsword, the other two weapons appear to be excellent quality but have no magical properties. The hand axe has some beautiful etchings and can be considered masterwork while the dagger has been forged from a silver alloy.
You journey down a long hallway, to one side another stairwell branches off and the steps slope downward but another cave in blocked it long ago.
At the end of the hallway is a perfectly spherical room fifteen feet in diamater, like someone has scooped it out of the bedrock. Several objects float within it spinning lazily in space- a book, a scroll, a bottle of wine, a dead raven surrounded by an army of writhing maggots, and a wand with tipped forks at one end.
The walls of the room are alarming in that they're plated with sheets of thin red metal. Occasionally a streak of silent black electricity seems to coalesce into strange runes then fades like a ghostly afterimage.
"Now here's some gear I can appreciate... Yes, fine weaponry indeed!" Garrokmal sheathes his standard longsword and takes up the magical one. "Yes, a wonderful blade... I'll turn it against those that set it against us." He also admires the quality of the hand axe, and, there being nobody that would use it as a weapon, hangs it on his belt.
"Silver may come in handy for one of you with this dagger..."
As they go down the hall, he consults the map they're keeping of their delve in to the tunnels... "Without a passage leading west here, I think there may be something back where we came from that we didn't search. I'd hate for another monstrosity like Korvus to be lingering back there - we may have to go b-"
His words are cut short as they enter the spherical chamber.
"Iomedae help us, what is this?" Clearly unsettled by the powerful magic on display, he takes a step back. "One of you will have to tell me what's going on here..."
As they walk, Hieronymous says "I can use that dagger but I probably won't, so I'll only take it if no one else wants it."
He walks carefully into the room, Hmmm, let's see if I can discern anything."
He mumbles under his breath, closing his eyes and moving his hands around, and then opens his eyes in a knowing manner.
"Wow, definitely feels like transmutation, , someone has bent the very laws of nature, and they've done it permanently, so my guess is it was an entity with more power than your average wizard. Let's see..."
He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a sling bullet and holds it out in front of him, then lets go to see if the bullet will float.
He then examines each of the items floating, casting detect magic on them as well.
The sling bullet moves into the negative gravity of the room and hangs there with an ever so gentle spin.
"I get a sense of evocation about the scroll and the wand." he hands the scroll to Katarina, "I think It's safe for you to examine, milady."
"As for the wand, I believe it allows the user to cast a spell that can be best described as 'Shocking Grasp'"
He grabs the wand and offers it to the rest of the group, "Any takers?" He then tales back his sling bullet.
"That sounds very tempting my large friend. I think we should proceed with a modicum of caution before we throw ourselves bodily into the room. Does anyone have a spare trinket or perhaps a rock we could toss into the swirling mass to see if anything untoward happens to it?"
Zafzalurg reaches back and pats his crammed-to-brimming backpack, concluding, "Unfortunately, I carry only gnomish essentials... Also, does anyone recognize that glyph?"
Garrokmal doesn't trust what he cannot understand... "I'm not having anything to do with this. Fool with it if you must. I'll be looking for something to kill." He searches the room for an exit. Peering down the corridor, he remains alert and waits for his companions to complete their investigation.
Hieronymous says, "Nothing to worry about here, just a little levitation, in the face of all the evil that has been wrought upon this area, I think my gods would prefer that I disturb whatever foul ceremony is going on here." He swims out into the chamber and grabs up the Wand, Scroll, book, bottle of wine and his sling bullet, leaving behind only the rotting carcass. He swims back to the entrance to the room, "See? Nothing to it!"
He smiles as he lands back on the floor, offering the items to anyone who wants them.
"Not sure why you want floating wine, but okay... If you're all set, it looks like we need to go back to that hall I was just about to mention."
Barring any interruptions, Garrokmal leads the group back through the previous rooms to the room with the statue. Seeing it a second time, he admires the weapon in the statue's hand.
From the statue room a long hallway leads to the east where it descends in sections of stairs that lead to a door.
Garrokmal opens the door.
As they walk from the floating room, Hieronymous looks over the book.
The book from the room appears to be well preserved but very worn, the writing is in a spidery script that's in a language that none of you seem to know but on many of the pages are diagrams of hideous beasts and their apparent means of dispatching their prey.
As the group continues on, you open the door at the end of the long hallway, beyond is a circular room with a fountain that's rim is lined with skulls. Water ripples quietly in the stone pool.
As everyone else seems a bit transfixed by the water, Hieronymous pulls out his wand and heals himself.
"Anyone else need this?" he asks, pointing to the wand.
Assuming he gets no answer, he puts the wand away, brandishes his mace and buckler, walks over and opens the door.
You make your way through the door on the far side to come to another short hallway that ascends several step and opens into a room with a spiral staircase that leads up. The stairs are choked with loose gravel and the debris of yet another landslide that has collapsed the top of the stairs.
"Hm, nothing to be done, I suppose..."
Garrokmal turns around and heads back to the room with the fountain, and gives it a closer look than before, examining the skulls and peering into the water.
Seeing the half orc wander around the fountain as if he is looking for something, Hieronymous decides that if he helps Garrokmal look for whatever, their new friend Erin might think that they both know what they are doing. He follows Garrokmal in a circle around the fountain.
You circle back to give the pool a look. As you do, you see the waters inside drain away then quickly refill the bowl. You're certain that some of the dust and grime that may have fallen into the pool from your passing has been removed as the water is crystal clear. Other than that it seems to be a normal pool of water.
Zafzalurg, intrigued by the pool's behavior, scrapes together a handful of dust and tosses it into the fountain's sparkling water.
"I wonder if it's potable..."
Zaf watches the water for several minutes as the dust moats float around on top of the water, but it doesn't seem to do anything.
Further inspection of the room itself doesn't uncover anything.
Hieronymous mumbles, "evidently nothing interesting going on here..." he trails off and starts to head for the door to the west.
"I think there is at least one other passageway we haven't taken." he then leads the group through the door, left past the statue, and then left again down the passage they haven't taken, stopping a couple times and blinking his eyes as if he isn't quite sure where he is.
Using your map and exploration skills, you back track to the room with the fountain and take the remaining path you've yet to explore. You venture down a hallway that takes a gentle turn to the right, the tunnel widens here into what appears to have once been a small shrine. To the Northeast, steps lead up to a platform of gray stone. Sitting atop the platform is an ancient altar, little more than a jagged block of black marble with a shallow concavity on top of it. This basin is filled with what appears to be filthy water.
To the Southeast are a set of stone double doors.
Hieronymous looks at the altar carefully.
"Hmmm, wonder what evil this shrine has been used for."
He turns to Garrokmal, "Hey Garrokmal, how about leading us through those double doors?"
He then makes ready with his Mace ad Buckler, waiting for the half orc to lead the way.
Hieronymous studies the altar for a minute or so attempting to discern any distinct information from it, but after a careful study all you can discern is that its very crude and that you don't think you'd want to drink the water.
Hieronymous looks up at the half-orc, who seems somewhat distracted. Hopefully he'll wake up for combat.
He walks up to the double doors and peers intently at them, almost as if he is looking right through them.
In the center of the room is a large pool of water. Ringing the center of this pool are a circle of spikes, atop each spike is a human skull. At the far end of the room, a pair of stone stairs lead up to a pulpit on which sits a second pool, this one triangular and filled with bubbling, churning water that looks almost like translucent lava. Wisps of what look like heat and steam rise from the strange orange liquid.
Beside the triangular pool at the top of the dais, in seeming mediation, kneels a creature you would guess stands only chest high at full height.
Hieronymous whispers, "There's something in here, it looks kind of familiar, let me think..."
He turns to the others and whispers "Nope, can't place it, but it is shorter than me, has wings, a lizard-like face and horns, and I think it's female, not sure."
"The room is large and looks like the kind of place all sorts of unspeakable ceremonies are performed in."
"We'll want to enter this one ready to fight!"
"If anyone has any ideas, the time to speak up is now."
He looks up at Garrokmal expectantly.
Getting no reaction from the rest of the group, Hieronymous pauses to think.
"Wait a minute, didn't those papers we found in Tsuto's room mention a quasit? I know I asked Professor Gandethus what it was..."
"Something about a demon that flies, has high resistance to blades, and I think he said it could disappear. Perhaps this is that quasit."
"If it is, this will be tough, we'll definitely want to put away our blades," he hefts his mace and smacks it into the palm of his hand for effect, "and that room is high enough for it to fly out of reach."
"Maybe Garrokmal can run in there and pin it down, we tie it up and avoid trying to figure out how to fight it."
"What do all of you think?"
Taking heed of Hieronymous's counsel, Zafzalurg puts his sickle away and contemplates equipping his own mace. Then a thought occurs to him.
"What about arrows? Do you think the blade resistance applies to an arrowhead? Because we could, could mind you, tie rope to a few of my arrows and, if the gods are with us, stick the quasit with one or two. Then we could control its flight, or at least confound it, by hauling on the ropes and pulling the creature back to earth."
The bard finds his rope in preparation.
Hieronymous looks over at Zaf, "Good idea, though I am a bit concerned that the thing, if it is the quasit, will just disappear. How about we try both plans, if Garrokmal can't subdue it, you can try to contain it. Hopefully, one of these plans will make this fight less painful."
He looks at Garrokmal, Erin, and Katarina, "Does anyone else have any input?"
"Well spotted, my supposedly blind friend..." Garrokmal sighs, "I've been exhausted since that fight with the damnable Tsuto... But I suppose there's nothing to be done now but try to kill whatever it is. Can you tell how far away it is, Hieronymous? And how large? If I can put an arrow through it, we might draw it through this door and fight it in here instead."
He stows his longsword, knowing it will be of little use. He considers whether to draw his warhammer or his longbow next...
"Well," Hieronymous says, "Normally I can only see around 30', so my guess is that it's no farther than that, but it was hard to tell. It is shorter than I am, but not by much, maybe chest high to an average size human."
Friends, we could debate our tactics for days. What say we kick the door in and just see what happens?
The bard opts for the shortbow, although he forgoes attaching rope to his arrows on Hieronymous's good advice. He's also packed the sickle away and now the mace is hooked on his belt.
Hieronymous looks to Garrokmal and prepares himself.
"Alright, then. Here we go..."
Garrokmal prepares his longbow, checks his warhammer is fastened securely to his belt and opens the door.
As the group readies itself to move through the door, Katarina chants the words to a spells, gesturing in an intricate pattern. When she finishes, she points toward Garrok and he doubles in size. She gives him a playful smile in response.
Garrok opens the doors and beyond you see a large room, the ceiling vaults twenty feet above, like an underground cathedral. To either side of the main door is another door, past them, the rest of the room is carved in strange spiky runes that fill the walls, much like the ones that spidered along the walls of the round room.
In the center is a large pool of water. Ringing the inside of the pool are a circle of spikes, atop each spike is a human skull. At the far end of the room, a pair of stone stairs lead up to a pulpit on which sits a second pool, this one triangular and filled with bubbling, churning water that looks almost like translucent lava. Wisps of heat and steam rise from the strange orange liquid.
Beside the triangular pool at the top of the dais, in seeming mediation, kneels a creature you would guess stands only chest high at full height. She stands as you enter, she hisses "You dare to enter the Mother's Sanctum. The quasit slices a dagger that it held across its arm, the holds the bleeding appendage over the pool.
Black demon blood drips into the pool and from the drops forms one the abominations you fought earlier in the catacombs.
Fearing that the quasit might disappear, Hieronymous decides that his best option is to charge the thing and hope he can hit it.
Hieronymous moves forward taking his foes by surprise. With his mace raised high he strikes at the quasit's feet and legs as she stands on the dais above. The blow would break a normal man's leg, but the demonic foe shrugs it off as if it were a scrape.
Katarina takes a step forward, magical auras swirling around her as her eyes blaze with energy. She yells at the demon, "By the Eight Scrolls of Desna, I command you to halt."
Nothing seems to happen.