Well, that's even worse than what I had feared originally. Now that we have ghouls and doppelgangers.
"Linweigh, where exactly is Briarstone? And do you have any knowledge of how we came to be here?"
He seems to be affected by memory loss as well, although perhaps not as strongly as it affects us. I don't want to push him too hard, but he's the only one with any knowledge.
"I know this is difficult, but do you recall how many patients and staff members work here? Or at least where the exits are?"
"What do you mean 'where is Briarstone'? Briarstone Asylum is on Briarstone Island, not far from Thrushmoor."
He looks around. "I'm not sure where we are though. Maybe the basement? I've never been down there. I'm not sure how to get out, but that door looks promising. There was... an earthquake as well? At least I think so. I think the upper floor collapsed, and it definitely damaged the ground floor as well."
He does some mental counting. "There were maybe two dozen staff, and maybe 60 or 70 patients."
"Can someone get Shield up?" Harrow asked. "A potion or something? Perhaps one for me too?" He limped over to Shield's unconscious body to check on him when something clicked in his mind.
"Hold on, there's yellow mist?" Harrow's crone voice hissed, spinning sharply on the orderly and thrusting a finger in his face. "You'd better be joking, little man."
Treat Deadly Wounds: When treating deadly wounds, you can restore hit points to a damaged creature. Treating deadly wounds restores 1 hit point per level of the creature. If you exceed the DC by 5 or more, add your Wisdom modifier (if positive) to this amount. A creature can only benefit from its deadly wounds being treated within 24 hours of being injured and never more than once per day. You must expend two uses from a healer's kit to perform this task. You take a –2 penalty on your Heal skill check for each use from the healer's kit that you lack.
+ =10
Harrow limps over to Shield and struggles for a bit to kneel down beside him. "Sorry, dearie," He mutters, "That's what we get when we play the hero."
He will look at the wounds and do what he can for his former cellmate. However, the memory loss and the shock of everything that's happened - plus the news of yellow mist outside - has the seemingly possessed Chelaxian rather rattled.
"Uh, yeah, yellow mist." Campre shakes his head, clearly overwhelmed by the situation.
An hour passes, and Alico's attempts at first aid seem to have done little good. He continues providing long-term care with the help of his allies to all the injured.
"There are things I can think of off hand that might cause yellow smoke perhaps, but a yellow mist?" Strange that it should appear in the dream as well. Perhaps it was one of those environmental aspects intruding on a dream, like the orderly asking for help. Xander would like to rationalize his fears as much as possible. It feels like it will help.
While she is fixing Cage’s attire, Broom lady listens to Campre’s story. ”So, were We patients here? Do you know why?”
She finished up her work with a look of satisfaction. ”Yellow mist? Hm, We were all in the dream together and now we are here, and there was the yellow mist in the dream and now the yellow mist is here. And then there was the thing in the yellow mist in our dreams that was killing us and now there is something in the yellow mist here that is killing people. If that dream thing is here, how are we going to get out?” she asks with concern.
Seeing people trying to help Shield, Broom lady wanders over and watches them intently trying to figure out exactly what they are doing before trying to help them.
Unable to lend any credible assistance she begins busily cleaning and mending Shield’s clothing. As she does so she asks in frustration ”Pouch, We can fix things, why can’t We fix people? Can you show us what you are doing?”
Afterwards she heads over to the sack of items and rummages through its contents. Seeing the broom immediately brings a smile back to her face. She picks it up and give a couple of test swishes on the dirty floor. Satisfied she begins collecting the rest of the sack’s contents. Although there is a set of simple clothes in the sack, she continues to wear the gown she awoke in.
He shakes his head to Broom. "I wish I were better at this, but I am just a novice myself. Damn, if only I had a wand."
Durril has no medical knowledge, but there's no harm in trying to help.
The furnace lies cold. Durril, upon gazing inside, notices several scorched humanoid bones amid the ashes, easily from a half-dozen bodies, but nothing more.
”So, were We patients here? Do you know why?”
"I assume you're patients, since you're dressed like them," says the orderly, "But to be honest, I've never seen any of you before. You must have been new."
At this, he begins to look all of you over, dubiously and nervously.
As the group settles in for an extended stay, Broom lady wanders around for a bit, uncertain of what to do. She looks around at the somber group of people she has found herself with "We wish We could do something to help. Just sitting around doesn't feel right."
Suddenly an idea pops into her head and she brightens up again.
Without a word she quickly, and neatly, removes all the odd implements from the table and thoroughly cleans it off. She then pulls a cutting board, a knife and a small box of spices out of the pack. She still wasn't certain that they were hers, but she did know how to put them to good use. With nothing but some trail rations and no fire, she did the best she could. The hard food was chopped or cut thinly to try and improve its texture, then through a combination of real spices and magical flavouring and warming she attempted to make a meal to lift everyone's spirits.
She uses all the food that she finds in the pack. Finding that it is not quite enough for everyone, she quietly goes without.
Afterwards she spent some time once again making sure all her cooking implements were spotless before packing them away before turning to Harrow "May we try the violin you found?"
She plucked tunelessly at the strings for a few minutes, seeing if she could improvise any sort of tune that sounded halfway decent.
Not being able to tease anything that sounded reasonable from the instrument she gave up with it and just conjured some coloured lights that she had dance about the room for a bit, amusing herself if not anyone else.
She spent the remainder of her time in the cell she woke up in reasoning that if that is where she woke up, then that was her room. There is much sweeping, prestidigitating and mending. By the time everyone is feeling well enough to continue what was once a dingy cell now looks like a heavily worn, but well maintained room. The bricks on the walls are still chipped or gouged, but there are no cracks and they look like they have been freshly scrubbed. The bars still show signs of corrosion, and are a little bent but they are clean. What little rags and straw there was are now fresh smelling and neatly piled into a makeshift bed. All the accumulated grime and detritus cleaned from room's surfaces has been swept into a neat little pile in one corner.
"Please, be my guest." Harrow does not know if he'd be any good, so he hands the instrument over to Broom. Wincing at her valiant attempt at music, the Chelaxian shakes his head.
Looking at the orderly, he frowns. "There is nothing wrong with me ... I'm pretty sure. So you do not know our names. Do you know yours?"
Seeing Broom making dinner, he moved to his own trail rations and refused his share. "Oh no you don't, little sweep. You eat too, I can tend to my own needs. I do think we are all going to need our strength for what comes next."
After eating, Harrow takes his cards and tries to divine any answers, muttering between the two voices he shared.
Cage watches his fellow inmate take to cleaning the prison.
"I do not know where you get that energy."
Durril doesn't seem to have any rations or any other useful gear in his pack, so he gladly accepts the woman's offering with a small word of thanks, then sits against a wall as he eats and rests. Watching on dispassionately as the others do their thing, he tries to remember something - anything - about how they ended up here, but he grows frustrated (though not visibly) as nothing comes up.
Fine, we rest. Xander takes the offered food and sits down. After eating he paces around the rest of their enclosure, looking for any clues as to how they got here and trying to remember anything useful. "We may wish to barricade that door," he says pointing to the only obvious exit, "at least for as long as we remain here. If there are more of these creatures, another may come looking for this one."
"We can use the big table to block the door" Broom lady says and immediately tries dragging it into position.
After that is done, she attempts to help anyone who is trying to tend to wounds, fascinated with the process if not able to actually assist them.
When she is done she curls up in the makeshift bed and drifts off into a fitful sleep filled with visions of yellow mists and things from behind reality.
Was there a bag of gear that seemed familiar to cage?
Cage puts on the set of clothes and gear that seem familiar to him.
"Why do I have this cage....." he wonders to himself.
A day and a night pass in the dark, dank basement. The orderly, Campre, says little, and seems to have been permanently scarred, both inwardly and outwardly, by his torture at the hands of the doppelganger.
Some attempts at first aid are made, but Harrow seems more focused on his cards than healing.
Broomsticks is able to make a dent into the room's dirtiness. Much of the bloody clothes and other trash can be stuffed into the furnace.
The cold furnace contains several scorched humanoid bones amid the ashes, easily from a half-dozen bodies.
The vents leading up and out of the furnace are particularly wide,
so much so that a Small creature could easily fit inside, while a Medium creature could fit by squeezing.
However, despite the barricaded room being a little cleaner and more ordered, all of you are filled with a feeling of dread, and sleep seems to be no recipe for relief. Indeed, all of you are cursed by bad dreams. Some of the nightmares are different for each of you, but you all share the following:
The dream begins as a scene in now familiar deserted alleys, the same from your other shared dream, but in this nightmare each of you is alone, wandering an 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 offers a simple piece of advice: "The past sleeps in the doctor's tome." The dream ends immediately after.
Failure indicates that you are haggard and unrested due to your nightmares, and do not regain any hit points from resting (though you still get 1 HP back from the other part of the 24 hour rest).
Any character who fails this saving throw by 10 or more suffers a more terrifying effect, taking 1d4 points of damage (which I'll roll if anyone gets a 1 or 2 on their Will save) and waking with visible claw and bite marks on his skin.
Xander helps clean a little, mostly to kill time. He can't stand staying in this place. He notices nothing at all about the furnace, so distracted is his mind.
At least he's able to get a little rest. It's not much, but it's something.
For all the nightmares, Durril sleeps relatively soundly.
Harrow has since drawn into himself since he cannot understand the cards before him. They form half-complete messages and strange clues that answer no question he can think to ask them. Growing frustrated, he places the cards back into their bag and returns to his cell floor, rolling his poncho into a makeshift pillow.
His dreams are haunted once again by the alien city, filled with the smells of crisply burning wood and the sickeningly-sweet aromas of decay. Within the feverish mist he sees glimpses of shouting figures carrying torches and shining blades and hears two women crying out for their mother. The heat grows and the torches are thrown at Harrow.
Recoiling, he tumbles backwards into a wall that crumbles beneath him. Landing on his back, Harrow sees himself in a small velvet room, lit by candles. Within only a plain table and stool furnish the place, and the Keleshite crone sitting at both. Her wrinkled features look down at him, stoic, and she utters the words "The past sleeps in the doctor's tome."
Waking from this dream, Harrow groaned and sat up. He made his way out of his cell and approached Campre. "Anything happen?" He asked him on his way to check on Shield.
As she is cleaning up and moving stuff into the furnace, Broom lady notices the bones as well as the unusually wide vents. She turns to Pouch and asks "You know, it looks like someone could fit up in the vents, or come down as well. There are also bones in here. We think the doppledoctor might have had more victims before us."
Broom lady's dreams are filled with memories that she knew did not belong to her. Her mind flitted about the dreamlands and gently touched the minds of other beings. In one instance she was in the crushing depths of the ocean. Within her clawed hands something struggled in vain as she slowly squeezed its life away.
Horrified, her mind recoiled and touched the thoughts of another. Now she was a mass of eyes and mouths, roiling through the darkness. While it was a curious sensation, she suddenly caught up to something. One of her many mouths caught its foot and she quickly rolled over it, wrapping herself around it. Even inside herself there were eyes. She felt the thing thrashing insider her as her many mouths began to feast on its still living form. She could see it inside herself and again her mind fled the horror.
This time she was a mass of tentacles. Something struggled within her grasp, screaming. Her tentacles slid down the prey's throat as its screams were choked off. She felt soft, squishy things within the unfortunate soul's body, things that her tentacles wrapped around and began to pull at.
Finally she couldn't bear it any more and she found herself in the yellow mist haunted alleys of that alien world, running from the ragged man. As she ran the sudden collapse of a wall causes her to stop, staring in curiosity as the strange woman gives her cryptic message. Her pause allows the yellow mist to catch up to her and she awakens with a start, staring about wildly in confusion.
"We need to try and find someone sane in this place to help us." Cage tells the others.
"Are the rest of you ready to leave this place?"
After she awakens, shaken by her dream, broom lady set about making breakfast for everyone. When Cage asks if they are ready do move on, she nods. "We dreamed that We were back in the strange city. A woman there told us that there was something in a doctor's tome. We would like to look for it."
She then helps move the table away from the door and then speak yet more alien words. A cold, dark mist coalesces about her, forming dark vestments which slowly fade from view, leaving behind a protective invisible force.
Xander/Pouch tries to remain as calm as possible in the morning. It won't help to be frantic when they're trying to escape. But Broom's mention of the doctor's tome piques his interest and his fear. "Wait, you dreamed about someone mentioning 'the doctor's tome?' So did I. A Kelishite woman, yes?" He looks around at the others. "What about you? Or was it localized to our cell?"
As weird as things already were, something more, something deeper was at play. Are we merely pawns in this game, or more worthy pieces?
Harrow perks up from his tending to Lorn. "No, I also had a dream like that, Pouch." Looking to the others, especially Cage, the Chelish man nods. "I'd love to get out of here, sanity be damned. Sooner the better."
"We all did, it seems", Durril adds, unsurprised. They'd cohabited a dream before, so it made sense they'd share another. "Perhaps...did any of you search the doppelganger? Maybe she has what we're looking for."
Mashiki goes over and checks out the doppledoctor's corps to see if there is anything on it that may have been missed.
Finding nothing she straightens out and arranges the corpse with its hands across its chest, as if if was about to be laid in a coffin. A quick cantrip to clean off the blood and she pauses a moment, there isn't enough time to mend the wounds on the corpse. She reluctantly leaves the body in its damaged state.
"We don't see anything on the Doppledoctor"
She then goes back over to the door and asks "Is everyone ready?" and opens the door without waiting for a response.
Cage puts on his armor and pulls a spiked gauntlet onto his left hand.
He draws a longsword and indicates he is ready to move forward.
He will go to the door and give it a listen.
Despite the full day of rest, when Lorn, or Shield as he is known, awakens, he does not do so fully. He remains in a strange half-waking fugue. The orderly Campre suggests that he stay with Lorn until he comes to, or until a safe refuge is found.
As soon as Mashiki opens the door, the group is nearly overwhelmed by the the smell of rot and decay in the room. The buzz of flies hangs in the air. A broad chute extends diagonally through one of this cellar’s half-crumbled stone walls. Beneath it lies heaped more than a dozen mutilated humanoid bodies. Nearby a fight of rickety, wooden steps climbs toward the high ceiling—an escape none of the room’s current occupants seem capable of employing.
You notice that many of the deceased humans are wearing the same thing: a plain, white uniform that buttons in the front, similar to the outfit worn by an orderly and not unlike that worn by the doppelganger’s false form.
Gods above, it's an abattoir! The waking nightmare continues. Overwhelmed by the stench, Xander pulls his shirt over his face and points toward the stairs. With eyes watering, he's not taking time to notice pretty much anything in the room beyond what's absolutely necessary. He makes for the steps as quickly as possible, pausing only briefly to cast a spell to cut down on the smell.
Even as the stench washes over Broom, she doesn't seem to notice. Instead, she stands there for a moment, transfixed with revulsion at the contents of the room. She is equal parts horrified by the mound of corpses and repulsed by the state of the room.
In her disgust her only thoughts are to get through the mess as quickly as possible, or to be given enough time to clean it up.
She steps a little closer to Pouch "We hope none of us did any of this."
"Well well well, isn't that interesting. Perhaps the nuts are running the nut house." Taking a deep breath in, the Chelaxian seems to enjoy the smell of decay. He starts to hum in time with the flies, slowly weaving his fingers through their concentrations. He does this for a moment before stopping to look oddly at his hand.
"Huh, I wonder why she did that?" He asked himself, turning his hand back and forth. He then looks at the stairs. "Dearies? Who here is the lightest, do we think?"
"This place is terrible...."
Cage will try the stairs to see if they will support his weight.
Durril isn't able to mask his disgust this time, his face crinkling at the scent of the corpses. Shaking his head to clear it, he looks up the chute, wondering what could be above.
Despite their unsteady appearance, the stairs are sturdy enough to climb. Once Cage reaches the landing, however, he can clearly see the heaps of rubble choking the passage above. The steps had seemed like the most obvious exit from the cellar, but a fallen wall above has blocked the way out.
This makes the chute the only surviving exit from the room. Despite the fact that the chute’s lowest point is 8 feet of the floor, the bodies heaped beneath make convenient—if morbid—stairs.
"We could also try crawling up the chimney in the furnace room" Broom adds, trying to help.
While the smell didn't bother her for some reason, the thought of stepping on the dead people turned her stomach.