"I don't know if this poor woman is good or evil, but I do not think many crimes deserve this punishment. If we cannot save her, we ought to allow her the mercy of death. I would not wish to be trapped forever inside such a monstrosity..." His voice trails off as if he's remembering, but then he shakes free of the reverie. "Please, dispatch her and let us continue."
"Well, if no one is going to kill it and we can't save it, then we should go back and deal with that door. That's the big worry...trapped out here while the innocents are trapped inside," Tristain mutters, useless in combat.
"Poor woman", Al laments, "it ain't right to leave her here like this. I don't rightly know what can be done about her strange fate. Maybe the records room will give us some clues about what caused this tragedy?" Albert slowly moves around the pool of blood as he makes his way to the door of the records room.
Heinrich pulls out a dagger and steps forward, attempting to coup de grace the woman.
Al moves forward and skirts the blood, but as Confusius approaches the woman, he suddenly topples over, splashing into the sticky red liquid and not moving. His chest still moves up and down, however, and a faint snore emanates from his mustachioed face.
You find yourself in the now familiar deserted alleys, once again wandering the endless, alien city pursued by mists. Soon, a wall collapses, revealing a disproportionately small room. Inside, an ancient Keleshite woman sits on a stool at a simple table. She looks up at you and whispers, "A mirror may reveal the truth, but the eye may not like what it sees."
You ask a question, but before you get an answer, you're awoken.
"So she cannot be helped? You are sure of this?" Tenebrynn's question is directed at Tristain just as Heinrich tumbles into the blood.
With Heinrich collapsed in the blood, Tenebrynn no longer waits for a reply to her question and instead snaps into motion, firing clusters of debris at the woman in the center of the sickly red pool. "Can't let it spread! Someone help him!"
The blast from the gnome catches the woman's head and it snaps back with an audible crack. She slowly topples over, her limp body falling on top of Confusius' as the mist drifts off, like a last breath being expired.
Tristain stares as the creature is ended, but realizes that its for the best.
"Not sure what else we could do," Tristain says, looking into the room, but also thinking about the door still. He looks around the room with the now-dead dreamthing.
Perception w/Detect Magic
Kyffin carefully pushes the now dead woman off Confucius. He'll then grab the man and drag him out of the pool of blood, before using Create Water to cleans him of the worst of it.
You can't tell what's wrong with him, but he seems to simply be asleep -- or was until you dumped water on him, waking him up with a loud, sputtering gasp.
The room contains a number of interesting curios including a brain-shaped sculpted wooden box, bookends depicting twin screaming and crying figures, and a brass sculpture of an Osirian pyramid. .
The marble desk features several drawers with more than a half-dozen magical auras radiating from one of them -- unfortunately, one that is locked.
There's also the library, which will likely take some time to peruse to see if there's anything of value or interest.
"Locked. Locked when we don't have time to deal with it because the door. We have to worry about the Eye coming back," Tristain worries, almost wishing he was back in the cell with the starting corner.
Tristain searches the body of the woman, hoping to find a set of keys, then turns his attention to other valuables.
Appraise
Heinrich awakens with a yelp! "The old woman! She spoke of a mirror revealing the truth. Does anyone have a mirror?!?"
Tenebrynn arches an eyebrow at Heinrich, then shrugs and opens her pack. She sticks her head and wild, messy hair fully into the bag for a moment before emerging with another shrug. "Nope. No mirrors. Who is this old woman though? Her?" She points to the dead woman being frisked by Tristain. "Or another her?"
"She was... she was... I was dreaming. She was there, in the yellow place." Heinrich looks around, confused, still waking up.
Tenebrynn nods, "Oh. Back where the Cutter was. I dreamed like that last night. You saw an old woman there this time though? Interesting."
Albert waits by the door to the records room while the party investigates the curios and the locked desk. "If we escape this cursed asylum, I reckon we'll need to build a funeral pyre for all the corpses. How's that sit with you Twitchy?" Al nods towards Tristan, "You like burning stuff don't you?"
Tristain, aka the last remaining yahoo from the cell with the starting corner, looks Albert up and down, finding him to be a much more agreeable companion than the giant who started in the cell with the starting corner.
"Have I started any fires yet? I will start fires to achieve goals and aims. To cook food, for instance, or to prevent an evil door from locking innocents in and us outside," Tristain replies, uncertain why the man chooses not to understand the danger.
Kyffin shrugs having no mirror and begins to wonder at the sanity of his companions.
But then my mind is not so straight either. he shrugs at the thought, frowning.
He walks back tot he library and asks aloud, "Little one - have you by chance found any keys in your time here? We found a lock..."
Assuming he gets silence in return, he shrugs again and returns to the desk.
"Anybody mind if I break this open?"
Not wanting to damage his scimitar, he tries forcing the drawer open with his dagger.
The man from the cell with the starting corner is mirror-less.
Ask Kyffin begins to beat at the desk, Tristain remembers that he has keys.
"Keys! Yes, I have keys! I forgot!" Tristain remarks. "Maybe one of these will work." Tristain will try the keys on the desk between Kyffin's heaves.
If one of them work, he will try to identify the magics he noted before.
Spellcraft
Spellcraft
Spellcraft
"This is more interesting, but we really should get back to the door," Tristain says, removing the contents.
Kyffin stops banging on the desk as the corner-man walks up with the keys. "OH, yes. That's better."
He too peers in with Detect Magic going to see what the auras amount to, though he doesn't much know what he's looking at.
"Those are shiny."
Tenebrynn watches with interest as the pair gain entry to the marble desk. Her gaze then wanders up to the fog-clouded windows overhead and she jolts back suddenly, tearing her eyes from the upper windows and fixing them firmly on the floor. "Fog is bad. Bad, bad things still in the fog. Don't look up!"
As Chalker looks over the former woman's body, he finds a key ring with several keys on it. It takes a little time but one eventually fits in the locked drawer, and it clicks open. Unlike the other drawers, which are filled mostly with mundane writing supplies and extensive but uninteresting documents, the locked drawer contains a journal, a magnifying glass, five vials marked as alchemist’s kindness (2), smelling salts, and soothe syrup (2), 4 doses labeled antitoxin, 2 doses labeled opium, and three scrolls that radiate magic (Chalker can recognize them as fox's cunning and remove paralysis [2]). It also contains a candle that radiates magic, a small tin filled with incense that radiates magic, a small amulet with four names written in Auran on a thin silver chain, and a braided leather cord holding two other small amulets, one of a slippery red stone that features a winged serpent and the other a pair of miniature wooden spears crossed over a wooden shield.
As Chalker is involved with that, the gnome girl and Confusius look around, noticing a set of six small but powerful images sketched with coal upon torn parchment and set in fine frames. They depict eerie vistas of an endless, empty city under a sky of whirling mist, which they realize are quite similar to the city from their recent nightmares. In the corner of each painting, a delicate copperplate records a year from 4708 to 4715 and the name Ulver Zandalus.
Candle of spirit protection (OA)
Incense of open thoughts (OA)
Greater talisman of beneficial winds (OA)
Lesser talisman of healing power (OA)
Lesser talisman of warrior’s courage (OA)
Kyffin shrugs having tried to identify everything, "I don't know what any of these things are." he admits.
He notes the large number of keys, "A lot of locks around here. We'd best keep an eye on those keys. Very valuable."
He'll open the journal and look to the last few pages and see if there are any clues.
Tristain pulls out the magics, laying them out as he tries to figure out what they are. He piles them into three separate piles: those he knows what they are and wants to keep, those that he knows what they are and doesn't want, and those that he fails to identify.
He puts the scrolls into the 2nd pile (for others to take).
Spellcraft - candle
Spellcraft - incense
Spellcraft - amulet
Spellcraft - amulet
Spellcraft - amulet
"Uhm...I'm a bit too distracted to see what these all do now. Maybe...maybe...I'll try tomorrow after we get the door fixed."
He puts most things in third pile, putting the Talisman in a pile for himself. He packs up the rest for later.
"I guess we're done here, right? We should get back to the door before it's too late."
Kyffin points to the Talisman the man from the corner is claiming for himself. "So what is that. What does it do?"
After the discussion, he grudgingly agrees with the worried man. "OK, OK, let's head back. Is anyone still injured?" he asks.
He'll convert a Divine Favor for a Cure Light Wounds and cast it on another if needed, or himself to cleanse the last of his injury. He improves the casting with a blessing.
He'll then lead the way back to the door and relax a bit.
Though Walter can't peruse the whole journal so quickly , the last few entries seem of interest:
Oathday: Another unexpected call from Count Lowls. These have become so common and Lowls’s focus is so singular that they no longer leave me apprehensive. He requested to see me after his visit with Zandalus, though. He claims to have a theoretical solution for the poor man’s condition. I don’t know what the count and my prized patient have been discussing_and Lowls again refused to share -- but I doubt that lordly amateur psychologist has truly hit upon anything of worth. Regardless, I’d be a fool not to humor my liege.
Starday: Lowls’s ”solution” was not at all what I expected. I have no clue where he turned it up, but on his most recent visit he brought along a copy of Valhadis’s The Chain of Nights, a near-legendary collection of psycho-arcane studies and treatments focused on dreaming. While I abhor arcane tampering, if there’s a permanent solution to Zandalus’s nightmares, it could be here. Lowls allowed me to study the text for the duration of his visit, but staunchly refused to leave it in my possession.
Moonday: Lowls has made me an offer: his copy of The Chain of Nights. All I must do in return is accept a handful of new patients -- former associates of his that have suffered some unprecedented manner of group amnesia. I might accept this as charity on the count’s behalf, but he insists that I keep no record of their committal. The terms make me suspicious, but I can learn more of these curious strangers once they’re in my care. If it means the possibility of a cure for Zandalus and others, I welcome the bargain.
Toilday: The Chain of Nights is a marvel. It will take years of study to unravel all its possibilities, but already I’ve discovered a process by which chronic dreams might be drawn forth and disposed of like so much psychic gristle. Tomorrow our experiment begins.
The names refer to Count Haserton Pragmus Lowls IV, ruler of the County of Versex in Ustalav.
"Hold on there, young fellow", Albert calls to the departing half orc. "The records we went searching for are here behind this door, suppose we take a gander before scampering back to the shelter." Albert waits by the door of the records room as a spark of suspicious ignites. "Boy, is there some reason you don't want to see them records?"
Tenebrynn seems drawn to the charcoal drawings and remains oblivious to the discussion surrounding the various items and journal. She zips from one picture to the other, examining each from different angles then looking up at the windows and the swirling fog beyond. Just as Albert turns his suspicions toward Tristain, she turns back to the group and nods in understanding. "'Zandalus sees', remember? Places in drawings here same as dreamplace with the Cutter. Fog there," she gestures to the sketches, "same as fog there," she points to the window. "Two different places becoming one place. Very bad." She then looks to the woman she killed a few minutes earlier, recalling the fog that streamed from her in such waves. "More like her could be nearby, making more fog, turning here more and more into there."
"What manner of magic is this that blurs the line between dream and wakeful state? Are we the group of curious amnesiacs the journal references? Were we associates of this Lowls character?" Heinrich's mind races with possibilities without proper connections.
Know (local)
"Heck, even I've heard about Lowls. The names refer to Count Haserton Pragmus Lowls IV, ruler of the County of Versex in Ustalav, obviously," Tristain informs, then goes to gently bonk his head against the wall, trying to process all this new information.
*bonk*
*bonk*
*bonk*
"First, we can deduce some added argument that this is not a demi-plane, but that we are actually in Ustalav or nearby. This means that the starting corner might not be the starting corner. However, we cannot be sure, yet."
*bonk*
*bonk*
*bonk*
"Second, Zandalus seemed to be very important as is the mentioned book. Anyone see it around? I would like to read it."
*bonk*
*bonk*
*bonk*
"Affter we tend to the door and rest, we might want to explore further. Not just for the child, but also for the book."
* * *
"Boy, is there some reason you don't want to see them records?"
Tristain stops his bonking to glare at Albert.
"Maybe he just holds up to his agreements. Maybe he does that. Don't you?" Tristain says, happy to finally have some help with the door because its the right thing to do.
"Hold on there, young fellow", Albert calls to the departing half orc. "The records we went searching for are here behind this door, suppose we take a gander before scampering back to the shelter." Albert waits by the door of the records room as a spark of suspicious ignites. "Boy, is there some reason you don't want to see them records?"
Kyffin shrugs. "I do want to see the records, but 'A' there may be another set of creatures in there we'll need to overcome and we're low on resources. Also, '2' I did make a promise to the man from the corner that we'd check one more room and withdraw for the afternoon. I'm fine if we want to revisit that discussion."
He continues, "But I do think we should fall back, for now, and come at it fresh in the morning. I want to find the boy, but this place is very dangerous, and I don't want to die doing it. That helps no one. We've already had one death, and I don't want to risk another."
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"Young adventures today got no spine" the old man declares. "Always running back to shelters and passing out at the sight of blood. When I was a lad, we would march three days straight, uphill the whole way, with a dragon raining fire upon us, and we were lucky!"
Albert keeps up his old man grumblings, but follows the group back to the shelter.
As the group starts to trudge back to the survivors encampment, Tenebrynn's curiosity gets the better of her. Using the old janitor's grumblings as a cover, she slips over to the door that allegedly leads to records. Glancing over her shoulder at the others as they continue to walk away, she shrugs then opens the door a crack, her face pressed up to the gap with one large, wide gnome-eye darting about looking for any possible sign of trouble.
Spotting the gnome slipping away, Heinrich follows as quietly as he can.
"Oi. Where are we headed?" He hisses quietly to her.
"Eeep!" Tenebrynn starts in surprise as Heinrich slips up behind her and she accidentally throws the door open wide as she spins around to see what had snuck up upon her. Realizing him to be one of her companions just before releasing a panicked blast of wind, she shrugs and indicates the room with a jerk of her thumb. "There."
Heinrich nods and follows after without uttering another word.
Tristain leads the group (that is following) back to the door, he points at the hinges and hopes someone can work with them. If not, he's open to hacking the door down or burning it off.
"So yeah, we need to move this door so that those people are not trapped in there when the eye comes back...and we're not trapped out here," Tristain comments and begins to gather kindling if no one else acts upon the door.
The door opens into a hall that is dark and apparently empty except for the smashed remains of lanterns on the ground. Five other doors branch from here, two to both the north and south and one on the far eastern end.
Albert sizes up the door, "Well, heck, just heave the pin off the hinges, that's how they work right?" Without thinking it through further, the old man grips the open door and yanks it upward.
"Ooohhh, my back!"
Heinrich stares at the gnome. "Which way, gnome?"
"Gentlemen, please. I understand you have a crazy fascination with this door. But consider this. What if the boy we seek is trapped in the door and it's his eye we saw? Destroying the door may kill the boy."
"It also removes a barrier we currently enjoy between us and this realm we haven't fully explored yet."
"Let's leave the damn door in place for now, until we lean what lies beyond."
He tries to be clear, but he's done with the door. He's said his peace several times in several different ways, and if reason is not to win out here, he shrugs his shoulders and walks away, confident he did what he could while facing the unknown and the insane.
He smiles as he sees the remaining residents still hunkered down. He moves among them, creating water as needed for washing, drinking, whatever.
As there is still some day left, he puts his efforts into helping out; taking a turn at watching the wall, chopping more wood, or whatever seems to be required.
Tenebrynn frowns. "Janitor-man said records room was past this door. Not that it was past another door out of many that was past this door." She shrugs as she regards the sprawling hall. "Maybe doors have plaques or signs." She slinks up and down the hall, looking for any kind of indicator on the doors that might suggest what lay beyond them.
Heinrich nods and moves up to each door, looking for a name or title on any of them.
Albert puts of few blocks of firewood propping the door open and then looks around for the other party members. "Say, where did the little one and the dour man get off to? Hope them faceless things didn't snatch them up, best go find them before it's too late." Bardiche in hand, Al retraces his steps looking for the missing party members.