"Tik'Klik!"
The golem tilts his head as the palm smashes the surface flat. He doesn't seem to feel fear (or if I read it correctly, morale bonuses, or am I getting subtypes confused).
The golem continues to investigate the tank, hoping to find a bit of clear liquid, or that the thing inside comes closer to the glass, to get a good look at it.
Aston stares at the woman, struck silent by the situation.
The parallels to his own life are startling. Pharasma truly works in mysterious ways, weaving great ironies into the fates of those that serve her whims.
He does not know the whole of this woman's story, nor whether her plea for help is genuine. But in her, he sees a mirror of the boy in the cage, the boy that would have either died or grown up to become a monster like his sire had he not been shown a single moment of mercy by a man whose faith dictated that an abomination against the sacred cycle of life and death like him should be destroyed without hesitation.
Mercy enabled him to live a real life. It allowed him to experience the best and worst of humanity. It granted him a daughter.
Now stands before him a chance to extend that gift to another.
He notes the two skeletons lingering behind the woman. "Guardians, or perhaps jailers?" he wonders aloud. He knows that, should the woman prove disingenuous in her plea, he would be opening himself and his allies to attack. Still...
"Madame," he begins in earnest, addressing the woman across the pit, "you clearly recognize me as a servant of the Lady of Graves. You understand the position my Goddess holds regarding those torn between life and death, then. But perhaps you also recognize me for what I am..." He opens his mouth and runs his tongue along his fangs, making them as plainly visible as possible; hopefully, his pallid complexion will complete the image for her. "I know not the full extent of what has been done to you, but you have my sympathies- no, my empathy. I too was once kept in a dark prison, far below the streets of this city. 'Twas a twist of fate that saved me, much like the twist of fate that has brought me to you. Yes, madame, if it is your desire to be free, then I will free you." He sheathes his dagger and extends a hand to her as a gesture. His hopeful smile is genuine, and he inwardly prays that his faith in this woman will not be betrayed. "My name is Aston Saboque. Tell me yours. Tell me how you came to be trapped in this place, and what the heretic Tripe did to you. If you are willing, I will do everything in my power to protect you. I swear this, on this symbol of my faith." He raises his holy symbol into view. "May Pharasma strip from me my powers if I am lying."
The woman, still partially hidden behind the corner, replies to Aston, ”My name is Esme…and, a lifetime ago, Tripe and I were to be married. He had already been expelled from your faith when we met and I, unwell with a wasting disease, was freshly arrived from Korvosa – the doctors saw no cure for me yet my Silvennius thought he could abate or even reverse the symptoms of my illness. He worked for months – not once did he slow down his research – yet, in the end, my body failed. I recall little of those last days but when I awoke, I was here – trapped between life and death… and hidden away as my lover’s secret. Poor Silvennius, a madness took him – the obsession became overpowering and he became what you saw earlier – I pray your goddess judges him kindly”
Stepping beyond the corner and into full view, Esme continues, ”How I long for the sunlight once more… Do you think it possible? There are places above where my ‘state’ would be tolerated”
Tik’klik – there is a strong necromantic aura seeping from the vat…and, as you look closer, a face – an absence of skin on its’ lower jaw giving it a ‘snarling’ visage - suddenly slams against the glass…ominously, a small crack forms in the glass…
"Tik'Klik!"
The golem jumps back, and begins firing off Disrupt Undead into the ceiling to get people's attention, pointing to the vat.
"Tik Klik Ick Crick Trick Track Clack Crack ack tack Crack, crik crack crack!"
Aston smiles at Esme and gives her a reassuring nod, her story filling him with mixed emotions. "I am terribly sorry for everything that has happened to you, and for the sorry fate Tripe found in the end. Obsession is too often the venom that brings down the noblest of hearts..." He considers Esme's condition, and the district of Ankar-Te in Kaer Maga above comes to mind. Undead are accepted as a part of the community there, more or less; however, they are little better than property. A plan begins to hatch in his mind; "Perhaps," he muses to himself, "she might hide out there temporarily... Abigail could watch over her until we could find a more permanent solution... Geb, perhaps? No, no... well, then again..."
Before he can form a proper plan, Tik'Klik's fit snatches his attention. He quickly raises his crossbow toward the vat and shoots an uneasy smirk over his shoulder at the woman. "Esme, you must pardon us a moment. It seems our business here may not yet be concluded after all..." An idea strikes him: "My dear, you would not happen to know if there is anything special about this particular experiment of poor Tripe's?"
Intrigued by what Tik’klik is pointing towards, Graham leans forward to inspect the crack in the glass…
As he does so, Esme calls out across the divide, ”Silvennius found a fresh corpse after some carnival or other last month…I don’t think it was human though – he thought that a more primitive brain would be more ‘receptive’ to the kind of resurrection he was investigating...” Your unexpected ‘friend’ is about to call out something else when, with another hard smacking noise, something smashes against the glass… there is a sudden peeling noise as the crack propagates around the vat… and then shatters in a torrent of vile-smelling, green liquid.
Staggering in the sudden flood, Graham is pushed backwards by a muscle-bound corpse of some form… slipping on the wet floor, he falls and is pinned by his heavy assailant – he tries, in vain, to push the snapping jaws away… the jaws of what must have been, some time ago, an ape… but, with a scream that suddenly stops, he finds his head caught – then crushed in an explosion of bone and gore.
…with brain matter dripping from its mouth, the vile creature turns to face Tik’klik…
"Tik'Klik!"
Aston stares, slack-jawed, as Tripe's final creation crushes Graham's skull. Just like that, one of his comrades is gone.
But if he hesitates, the undead ape might do the same to Taicho. He forces the shock from his system and follows Tik's lead.
Aston and Tik’klik both employ the same tactics, sending blasts of undead slaying energy towards the slavering beast – one of the bolts finds its target resulting in a quite unpleasant smell of cooked dead flesh… the beast, still looming over Graham’s body, staggers and is then struck by Taichos’ thrown Chakram – there is a loud crack of bone as it’s leg is caught. Virtually mindless, it ignores what should surely be overwhelming pain, and moves towards Tik’klik…
Swinging at the diminutive golem twice, the creature can barely stand on its ruined leg…
"Tik'Klik!"
The golem seems to be more insulted by the attack than afraid.
It adjusts 5ft back, and another burst of energy explodes from an open arm.
+
"Let's finish it off, boys!" Aston shouts, trying not to think about the ill fate that Graham met only moments ago, and backs up Tik's blast of divine energy with one of his own.
The creature, its leg already ruined by Taicho’s thrown chakram, cannot withstand the vengeful onslaught from Taicho and his companions… Blow after blow land until, with a tearing sound, the stitching that was holding the zombies’ viscera within its abdomen comes apart – small heaps of rotting meat slop to the floor, mixing with the green liquid from the vat… and then the ape flops face first into the mess…
A voice calls out across the pit, ”Is it dead? Sorry… I suppose it was already dead but you know what I mean. That should be the last of Silvennius’ creations – I suppose apart from myself”, and then, perhaps realising that there may be injuries, ”You are okay?”
Graham’s body, his skull crushed and open, lies still…
"Tik'Klik."
The golem picks up Graham's body and staggers over to an empty crypt with it before putting the body in the slot. Then the golem turns to look at the undead lady, then the ape.
"Tik'Klik?"
The golem seems unsure why one undead is being destroyed but not the other.
Aston watches quietly as Tik moves Graham's body into the crypt, and then joins him. Lifting his symbol of Pharasma in one hand, he murmurs a prayer for his fallen comrade to hasten his passage through the Boneyard.
This grim task completed, he turns back to the pit and Esme on the other side. "We yet live, my lady," he says, and gives a glance at Tik and then down at himself. "Such as it is. Our mission here appears to have been accomplished; Tripe is slain, the mystery of the stolen cadavers solved. I suppose we should hasten to leave this place; I have gathered Tripe's research and shall turn it over to Sister Nerissia upon our return. Please stick with me, Esme; I will ensure your protection. I know not if there is a cure for your affliction, but I do know that what time you have been granted should not be spent hidden away in this place of rot and blasphemy. Have you a manner of crossing that gap safely? If so, we should depart for the surface as quickly as we can; goodness knows there could be still more threats lurking about."
There are yet mysteries unsolved here, Aston thinks. Perhaps I should endeavor to return here in the future. Abigail should come along next time. He glances back at the crypt where Graham's body has been interred. Then again... no. Perhaps this place is best left alone.
Finding a ladder stored behind the damaged vats, the victorious party are able to lay it across the pit and, in doing so, provide Esme with an escape route from her 'prison'. Escorting her across the pit, the smell of decay is upon her body - various floral scents have been deployed to disguise it but ultimately to little avail...
"Which way is out good sers? I fear any route which takes us past those of the faith will result in awkward questions for you and certain destruction for myself...Silvennius had a secret door around here somewhere...sorry, I don't know exactly where though"
"Tik'Klik"
The golem begins moving across the ladder to where the female corpse was kept.
He all around with purple eyes.
"We'll figure something out, Esme. In the meantime, is there anything that might be of use in your room, over there? Anything important to you that you might wish to bring with you?" He keeps a suspicious eye trained on the skeletons. "I know of no other way out of this place but the way we came; however, if need be, you will be under my protection as an agent of the Church. You were a victim of Tripe's experiments, as much as he fell victim to his own delusions and ambitions. I am just the sort of being the Church of Pharasma would endeavor to destroy, being the spawn of an undead creature myself; and yet, I am standing before you today. I will ensure that you are treated fairly, Esme. To harm you while continuing to employ my skills would be quite hypocritical, and I trust that the Church will understand."
Crossing the ladder whilst Esme looks on, Tik’klik and Taicho arrive in a large chamber with a vaulted ceiling; unlike the rest of the ossuary, the room bears a distinct impression of habitation rather than abandonment. Lit candelabras reveal old tapestries hanging from the walls to ward off the subterranean chill, and a threadbare carpet covers the floor. Shabby furniture—a few chairs and tables, an armoire, and a dresser—flanks a large canopied bed in the center of the room, topped with satin sheets and a heap of lumpy pillows.
For a moment, it appears that the skeletons – perversely dressed in their ballgowns – are about to attack the pair of adventurers but, with a raised hand and a hissed, sibilant phrase, Esme stops them. Apologetically, she tells you that her ‘handmaidens’ were created to protect her…
There is little of real value in the room apart from, placed in an alcove, is a set of leather bound books – another book is open and lies on the bed next to one of the pillows. Examining these, you discover they are the ‘books and notes of the Chymists of Life in Death’.
Esme addresses Aston across the pit, ”We can leave now, yes? I think I could cross that ladder”
Tik'Klik begins bundling up the books for transport.
Then he moves to cross the ladder.
Unless stopped, once the ladder is gone, and the 'ok' undead on the same side as it, Tik'Klik will disrupt undead the 'handmaidens' until they break apart.
Esme looks on impassively as the small golem destroys her 'handmaidens'; turning away from the scene, she mutters that the pair of undead were hardly Silvennius' finest hour.
Leaving Silvennius' laboratory and apparent love-nest behind, the group retrace their steps - marching past the strange monolith, circumnavigating the pit that the Necrophidius climbed from, crossing the bridge within the high-ceilinged mausoleum before finally arriving at the circular staircase that leads back to the door that Sister Nerissia admitted you into the Ossuary through.
...at no point during the journey back through the Ossuary, do you see any sign of another exit...
Aston turns to Esme. "Stick close to me. I will make sure that you are granted safe passage." He retrieves the Chime of Opening from his pack and prepares to use it to open the sealed door.
Leaving the labyrinthine corridors of the Ossuary behind, the adventurers slowly troop up the spiral staircase back towards the point at which they entered the tomb. Where once were three, there are now four… and one of those initial three, having fallen to the brutality one of Silvennius’ creations, is now replaced with an undead – the very thing that Sister Nerissia, in seeking the assistance of Aston, Graham and Taicho, had sought to stop within the Ossuary.
Moving into the vestibule where Tik’klik had spent an untold number of years within his crate, the glowing sigil of Pharasma – a ghostly white luminescence – shines from the handle and hinges of the heavy wooden door that leads away from the lower levels of the tomb.
Maybe sensing the danger that she is in, Esme moves in behind Aston… keeping the dhampir between herself and the door.
Aston gives Esme another reassuring smile as he raises the chime to the door and rings it. "Just remain calm, Esme. Tripe's experiments were twisted, yes. Blasphemous, it is true. But you are no mindless zombie or animated skeleton. Your will to live is proof enough in my mind that you deserve a chance to do just that."
He hopes that the Pharasmin clergy will agree. In the past, an exception was made for him; he hopes that this feat could be accomplished just once more. Saving Esme from the cruel hand the fates have dealt her would be a validation of his existence.
Only time can tell, as the chime's tone sounds in the dusty chamber...
The chime rings out a perfect tone – at once beautiful and mournful – and, in response the Pharasmin spirals across the door features fade… and, with a definite ‘click’, the door is unlocked.
…from behind him, a hand is gently slid into Aston’s hand and a soft voice whispers, ”Thankyou”
The corridor outside the door is quiet and empty… yet from either direction, you can hear softy hushed, reverential whispers as the priests and clergy of Pharasma go about their business. For now though, no one has noticed the door to the Ossuary having opened – nor do they see four figures, a dhampir, a tengu, a small golem and a zombie girl make for the staircase upwards, back towards the cathedral, and beyond to safety…
…exiting the lower levels and moving out on the steps that run, exposed, along the cliff-face, the group allow themselves to become optimistic about their chances…
And then…
”Brother Aston? Is that you?” a voice calls out from behind you as a hooded priestess looks up from her silent contemplation at a shrine, ”Yes, It is you…there were rumours you had some business at the cathedral…have you a moment?”
"Tik'Klik?"
The golem steps closer to the priestess, peering at her curiously.
"Oh? What? Brother Aston? Who is this?", the priestess takes a step back from Tik'klik - clearly a little unsure of the golem, "Who are your friends brother? I do not recognise them?"
Thus far, the pristess does not seem to have realised Esme is suffering from a 'condition'.
Grimly, Aston says: "Three went down, four came up. The Ossuary's lower levels held many surprises for us, good Sister; among them this curious construct. It has proved itself in battle many times over to be a loyal comrade in the battle against evil. Our mission was a success, though we faced many injuries, and..." He wonders whether he should burden this priestess with the news of Graham's ugly fate. Perhaps not. "In any case... please, I wish to speak with Sister Nerissia as soon as possible. Could you summon her, please? We must debrief, and there is a great deal that I have to discuss with her." He sighs. "Although... it might be appropriate to take a quick bath first. I would hate to stink up the chapel after all the sweating our lot has done down there."
"Tik'Klik...."
The golem continues to analyze the priestess. Satisfied she's not a threat, since she is speaking calmly with the others, the golem settles itself down, retracts it's arms and legs into it's torso, and then it's head begins to spin in place, it's eyes beginning to glow purple.
As Aston reassures her and Tik’klik moves into his resting position, the priestess tries to retain a semblance of composure, ”Okay, I see… you have been to the lower levels of the Ossurary? Such a visit is normally forbidden unless the high priestess herself gave you permission… Oh, I suppose she must have done – but, she is unavailable for the time being brother Aston, best that you return… in a little… oh…”
She stops, unsure of her next words… a look of confusion growing across her face…
Tik’klik – a Faint Divination Aura just pulsed from the Priestess.
"Tik'Klik?!"
The golem's head stops rotating, and focuses on the priestess. His arms and legs extend again, one hand clicking as it breaks apart and forms a cuff around the open wrist.
"Tik'Klik?" The golem rotates it's head enough to look at the others, as it awaits to see if the new human is hostile or not.
Aston sighs. "Sister, fret not. There is no need to worry your pretty little head over this ugly matter. It is now resolved, at least as far as it concerns our Church. If Sister Nerissia is indeed unavailable, then I and my partners will take the opportunity to go and clean ourselves up and return within the hour. Blood has been shed on this night; the taste of it requires a good, strong ale or two to wash down. I am sure that my companions would agree that we have earned it."