Pulling his attention more fully back into the room with his fellow dreamers, he stares back at them...eyes glowing eerily in the dim light. "I...they are not monsters. This I believe with my heart. They fear the monsters. How to convince them WE are not the monsters they fear...I know not."
Feliks padded back, "They sound ordinary enough. Worried about the monsters, just like we are. Probably if we announce ourselves fair and don't surprise them, they'll let us by. Or show us they're no friends after all."
"Well, rationally I suppose there should be other survivors." The old man answers, uncertainty in his voice. "Perhaps we send someone harmless looking to negotiate? If it is a trap, then the others can burst in. Certainly if we all go in they're likely to panic."
He looked around "I think I'm the most harmless looking. Shall I go?"
Kalas nods decisively, "It would definitely be safer if we don't all swarm in at once, but are you sure you can handle yourself old man? If things go south you might want someone in there with you."
"Not really" admits the old man "If it is a swarm of those shapechangers I'm not sure any of us might hold out. I will try to keep them at bay with talking - even the doctor below seemed ready to talk." he hesitates and continues "If I mention 'Dr Jons', even casually, come in and rescue me."
The old man waits for further discussion, then carefully proceeds to the portal. There he raps gently. "Hello? I come in peace." he says, clearly but quietly.
An arrow shot, hitting the floor well away from Owen's feet. The meaning was clear. Hold, old man, Gorse doesn't miss. The man's voice was gruff, gravely. It was the voice of a man used to giving orders. But, there's a bit of bravado to it. It's pitched a bit high, the words are bit too fast. How do we know you're not one of them?
"Er" the old man pauses, desperately trying to think of an answer "I'm sane?" A question occurs to him "Wait, who is 'them'? There was some... shapechanger... downstairs that I escaped from. Is that them? Who are they?"
Hearda nods silently to the old man. "Dr Jons. Got it."
As he watches the old man out of the corner of his eye from his post at the doorway, he feels the pounding of his savage nature threatening to overtake him.
Kalas grips the haft of his blade tightly and waits, hoping for good news, but worrying for the signal.
"Er" the old man pauses, desperately trying to think of an answer "I'm sane?" A question occurs to him "Wait, who is 'them'? There was some... shapechanger... downstairs that I escaped from. Is that them? Who are they?"
how do we know you're not that shapechanger? How do we know you're who you say you are? the voice pitches a bit higher, but still remains firm with resolve. Clearly, the toll of his ordeal has near fractured his mind, and it's all he can do to stay sane.
The old man sighs "I don't know, I... Wait, the shapechangers... surely they must need to exert conscious control? See if some of my hair changes when seperated from me."
I think he thinks it's probably true, even though OOC I think it is not.
to sound 'human'.
The man laughs. They've pulled that trick.. How do I know that's your hair and not someone else's you kept hidden in your own hair? He sighs. Three. Bring me the heads of three of the changers. They never kill their own..
"What?! How am I supposed to kill three of those things? I'm lucky to survive one!" The old man's voice starts to raise, then suddenly lowers back down as he remembers their precarious situation. "Anyway - who are you? Why are you here? If I can kill three of those things, why shouldn't I just keep going and find a way out?"
No way out.. Not that way.. hallways are all collapsed. I'm Captain York. These are my men. We're the last of the guards here in Briarstone. Us and the children. We're getting out of here, soon as the fog lifts, you bring me those heads. You can come, too
"Children? Did you say children? In this godforsaken nightmare?" there is disbelief in the old man's voice.
Even the mad have families
"Very well. I hope to see you again." The old man returns to his companions and quietly relays the conversation.
Kalas listens intently to the old man's words, "I think we can manage to kill three of those creatures easily enough with all of us working together, but are they really so common? Not only that, but can we assume every doppelganger is as deranged and evil as the one we've met?"
Hearda snorts in disgust. "Wonderful. Now we get to do their dirty work for them." Turning to the others he adds, "Well I suspect those...dopplegangers have more knowledge of who we are, and why we are here."
Finally he addresses the old man, his voice tinged with respect. "I agree with your decision here. Will they allow us passage?"
"They said the hallways were all blocked in that direction. Passage might not be an issue."
Hearda grimaces. "You are right Old one. I did see a couple of doors on the opposite side of these guards. Maybe one of them doesn't lead to a dead end." He then steps out into the corridor, glancing first at the guards, before creeping up to the first door he noticed earlier ever watchful of any hidden threats.
"Two birds with one stone as it were," Nathaniel offers as he accompanies Hearda to the door. "But just because these creatures may have knowledge of who we are and why we are here does not mean they will share it with us. Judging from the... err... nurse they may not only be unwilling, but incapable as well."
Moving close to the door he takes a closer look at its lock.
"Given the state of this place I do not expect it to be trapped or even locked but one never knows, does one?"
Feliks too stalked forward to the doors.
The guards behind the barricade remain unaware of Hearda and Nathaniel's presence as they move out of the room. Silent, amid the quiet echoes of their breathing, the two hasten to the nearest door. Nathaniel's picks make easy work of the locked door, revealing an oddly well-preserved store room. Shelves are neatly arranged against the four walls of this chamber, and the two dreamers find a ten-foot length of stout chain, several winter blankets, and a set of manacles. Everything else is silent.
Then.. just down the hall, Nathaniel hears it: humming.
"There is someone down the hall," Nathaniel says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Someone... or something. Whatever it is, it is... well, humming."
Dvarin follows wordlessly after the others. If those men were blocking the passage they'd have to go in that direction regardless, and if they were attacked by dopplegangers he would have no qualms killing them, even if he didn't see the point of doing so just because a group of strangers in an asylum asked them to.
Hearda, on hearing the warning from his fellow dreamer, raises his finger to his lips to indicate silence. Quietly drawing his mace he creeps as quietly as he can, no sign of the warring parts of his mind evident. The unknown here has united his warring factions as few things can.
He shifts his body trying to ascertain the exact location of the source of the humming, and also if it is getting louder...
Feliks put his own ears to work, trying to find the source of the noise.
Kalas finds the feeling of adrenaline an old friend as he follows the path of the scouts. He attempts to stay far enough behind them as not to give away their location, but close enough to be able to help fight. They will certainly need my help facing these creatures sooner, rather than later.
The old man tails Kalas - only to step on a discarded vial. The vial shatters with a crunch under the old man's solid shoes, and he freezes.
Slowly six of the seven dreamers walk down the hall away from the guards' light and the relative safety beyond their barricade. They have no choice, without the heads of three doppelgangers, the dreamers are doomed, trapped in this waking nightmare. Though they are loath to end any life, for the sake of their own, they must do the unthinkable! Though at what cost? What price is too high for one's own life? Sanity? Damnation? Another's life? Some would hold that all life is sacred, even that of the deranged monstrosities filling this asylum. Others, would take a more pragmatic view. These thoughts, and others, must surely plague the dreamers' minds as they inch their way towards the humming sound.
Obscure images, childish drawings and crude words, are scrawled upon the walls in ink and brown substances that no sane being would ever use to put thought to writing. Many of the drawings are of bizarre, twisted creatures. Things made of tentacles and many-jointed legs and insane unnatural biology that cannot, must not, exist in this world. Twisted amalgamations of animals and other things that simply defy explanation. Looking at them is unsettling, and with a shudder, all move on to the task at hand.
The hall is dark, but dull light filters in through cracks in the ceiling and arrowslit windows in the hall, coloring the ruined hall in a dim, xanthous hue. They draw nearer the humming, and see that the path north is choked with rubble. Walls have collapsed to either side, and part of the ceiling has caved in, completely filling the hallway with debris. A quick glance is all it takes any but the most unobservant to realize that to go further up the hall, deeper into the asylum would be impossible, and even foolhardy. Even one dislodged stone could bring the entire mound down, crushing all beneath the oppressive weight of the stones above.
Yet, to the right, the humming is loudest, and, yes.. there is a path between the wall of rubble and a mound of overturned furniture and a thing that almost looks like a sculpture of nailed together flesh. The dreamers peak through the ruined door of a side room. Papers and furniture lay strewn about in soiled heaps. This room must have been a staff office, at some point, given the nature of the paperwork on the floors. Where once cloaks would have been hung along one wall, human and doppelganger corpses are now suspended in a perverse mockery of tidiness.
Each of the bodies have been carefully flensed. Sometimes, just the skin of an arm, others the fat from a leg. The pieces hang from tacks in cork board on the wall opposite the corpses, with small tags in a precise script detailing race, date, and time of removal. In the far corner, an old woman in a patient's gown rocks back and forth. Her arms are curled about her knees and she hums tunelessly, like a scared child as she rocks. Her foot is badly broken and swollen quite large. She doesn't seem to notice the dreamers.
The woman is clearly out of place. If her leg's broken so badly, why is she able to put any weight on it at all? Also, how in the world did she end up in this room? Surely the guards in the hold-out would have done something?!
Conclusion: she is not what she appears to be.
Feliks fought the urge to vomit. Flayed people. Flayed things. Gods, what next? And what must the girl have seen?
Hearda sees the old woman humming to herself and feels a weird sense of...displacement? He could not explain why the tuneless humming affected him so. He shifted his body, ready to announce his presence here when the savage mind called attention to the incongruity of the scene. Harmless humming...mixed with horror.
Fighting the urge to vomit here, he swallows his bile and watches the woman for a moment...His savage mind picks out a couple of details that seem WRONG. The woman's leg's bearing her weight...the guards unaware of her presence...
He silently shakes his head and draws a line across his throat. Glancing back to where the half elven woman awaits he motions her to approach...
As Kalas peers into the room his first thoughts are of disgust and worry for the old woman, but looking closer he notices things out of place. She is definitely not what she appears, this is a trap. He says as much to the others and offers to enter the room and speak to what was likely a monster to prove it before they attack.
Aghast the old man looks on the carnage within, frozen to immobility by the sight. Frozen long enough for Kalas' warning to freeze him further, blood turned to ice water in his veins. His eyes narrow 'is he sure? Has this place driven him mad?' he wonders.
"She is not just an old woman," Nathaniel whispers. "The real question is whether she -or it- is alone or not."
"Be ready to assist me once she shows her true nature." Kalas steps into the room with the old woman.
The old woman starts and pulls back from the dreamers. No!! NO!! Please! Please stay away!! She looks around, seeing Kalas stand before. Oh, Brave sir! Please!!! My leg!! Please!! The monsters.. the monsters ... over there... She points through the ruined door to her right. I was searching for food... and found.. they chased me.. but.. I tricked 'em, I did! Made them think I was dead! They did this, they did! She gestures wildly to the macabre decorations lining the walls.
She pauses, and looks at the dreamers with cold, calculating eyes. Pity. It'd be so much more fun if you believed me. She stand on her ruined leg, bone breaking further, but not doing her any harm. Her hands stretch into terrible claws that reach to the ground. Now, come to Latchke... I can learn so much from you!
No one's surprised...
Kalas chuckles darkly at the creature's theatrics, evil never does know when to shut up. He steps forward and swings his dull blade from his shoulder and slams it down atop the monster with force.
Following Kalas' example Nathaniel moves quickly to join the fight. Maneuvering himself so that he is opposite of the half-elf he manages to flank the one called Latchke as his sword cane darts forward.
Dvarin draws a scroll from his pack and unfurls it, chanting the words written on it in some ancient, unknown language. As he does, his mouth seems to grow larger--it is like his jaw unhinges as a silent scream rings in the old woman's ears.
Feliks fixed his gaze on the false woman and then dragged up half-remembered misfortunes, mentally hurling them at her.
Amber: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16
Dvarin: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14
Feliks: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (5) + 12 = 17
Hearda: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
Kalas: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
Nathaniel: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Oldest One: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Latchke: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
Kalas chuckles darkly at the creature's theatrics, evil never does know when to shut up. He steps forward and swings his dull blade from his shoulder and slams it down atop the monster with force. The blade cuts deep, and sickly black fluid spills out from the wound as her body splits nearly in half. The creature screams in a voice no human throat could make. Yet, still, somehow, the two halves hold true, and she stays upright.
Behind him, Feliks fixes his gaze on the false woman and then drags up half-remembered misfortunes, mentally hurling them at her. Her mind reals with failings and self-doubt.
Amber gasps as the old woman reveals herself to be something other than she appeared, just as some of the others had guessed. "Why are you here!? Why have you done this!?" she calls, trying to stoke righteous anger to burn away the fear.
As the others rush in she tries to fire shot from her bow but in her attempts to not hit one of her companions the shot goes wild.
The creature laughs, a gurgling, blood-filled croak. A mouth appears on its clawed hand. I'm a doctor, silly girl. I need to study.
From the side, Dvarin draws a scroll from his pack and unfurls it, chanting the words written on it in some ancient, unknown language. As he does, his mouth seems to grow larger--it is like his jaw unhinges as a silent scream rings in the old woman's ears.
Following Kalas' example, Nathaniel moves quickly to join the fight. Maneuvering himself so that he is opposite of the half-elf he manages to flank the one called Latchke as his sword cane darts forward. His blow drives home, running the creature through the thigh!
miss
ill omen
hit but no crit
miss
The creature swings wildly, doubt and glee warring over its ruined face. Thrice it slashes out. Twice it misses. On its last strike, it drives its claws straight into Kalas' stomach, it smiles as it feels the warmth inside him. You will do wonders for my studies. It pulls its claws out and leers at the others, madness burning its yes.
[ooc]Hearda and the Oldest One up, now. It's almost completely dead, btw[/b]