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Father Zantus is about to reply when Brodert speaks up.
"Everyone! Everyone, please! That's quite enough!"
He straightens himself up and pushes his glasses to the bridge of his nose. "Now, everyone, I wouldn't object to studying this archaeological find in greater detail, but I would much rather study it if it's deactivated somehow. Preferably without damaging it."
He sighs. "Now, Eostre, please take a breath. Do you still have your notes with you? Do they speak of a way to, well..." He waves a hand in the direction of the runewell. "...turn it off, so to speak?"
Father Zantus looks around the room again, his hand turning white as it grips his holy symbol. "And the Chopper--Ekan, you said you saw him? Where did you see him?"
Eostre slumps a little, chastised by Brodert.
"Yes. These things get their energy from a special ritual, but that power is finite. From the looks of things, if we summon one more wrathspawn, it'll use that energy up and it'll go dormant again."
She leans on her glaive a bit, looking like she's about to cry.
"Well, Zantus? There you have it." Brodert turns to the anxious priest. "We have a way to use up the last of the runewell's power without destroying it."
Father Zantus looks down at his feet briefly before addressing Eostre again. "Alright then--Eostre, my apologies for snapping at you like that. This whole place..." He shudders and looks around again. "...it reeks of evil, and it has me on edge."
"I...I'm sorry."
She stares at the water and mutters to herself.
"This is it? This is what he killed you over?"
Ekan is tempted to lose his OWN temper, but Nicat's point sobers him. And then the others... and, Wrath could indeed be at play here on many levels. Calm, we should all try to be calm
Father Zantus looks around the room again, his hand turning white as it grips his holy symbol. "And the Chopper--Ekan, you said you saw him? Where did you see him?"
"He first appeared to me at..." he explains each and every time he saw or heard the ghost. Or thought he did.
"So we use the runewell's power without destroying it by creating more of those things until it can make no more?" He sounds unsure.
"Not until it's recharged, anyway. Can this thing be moved?"
"So we use the runewell's power without destroying it by creating more of those things until it can make no more?"
"That sounds about right, Ekan." Brodert nods.
"Not until it's recharged, anyway. Can this thing be moved?"
Brodert and Father Zantus both give Conner a perplexed look. "Not without magic that breaks the laws of physics, I'm afraid." Brodert says. "Although if an earthquake hits, and causes these catacombs to sink, I wager that would count as moving."
"He first appeared to me at..."
The priest and scholar look up to where Ekan was pointing, but find nothing but air.
"Odd..." Father Zantus scratches his head. "But I have a theory--if the Chopper manifested when the runewell awakened..." He trails off, his theory evidently only being half-formed.
"Go on, Father. You're...more knowledgeable about these affairs than me."
Eostre's voice carries a slightly resentful tinge, as if she's upset to admit someone might know more than her.
"Yes, do go on, Father," He asks
Brodert scratches his head in confusion. "Yes, Zantus, please elaborate. I'm afraid my specialties lie in lore of gods and empires gone by, not ghosts."
"Well, let me put it this way." Father Zantus begins pacing. "A ghost is typically formed when someone dies in a horrific manner, especially if their death is the result of some vile act or force. In Jervis' case, his body was found after his spree as the Chopper came to an end--he was the final victim. I can only wonder if he sacrificed himself to Pazuzu or took his own life to keep himself from harming another..."
"But I digress." Father Zantus looks down at the runewell. "If this runewell is responsible for turning Jervis Stoot into the Chopper, then perhaps if it is rendered dormant again, Jervis will be able to pass on. Ghosts tend to have strong emotional ties to a particular place, person or event, and if those ties are severed, there won't be a reason for a ghost to linger in the mortal world."
Evelyn had decided to stay quiet during the discussion, not sure if she should intervene. She barely knew these people, after all. There was no telling if her intervention would've been appreciated.
When everyone's mostly calmed down, Evelyn moves over to the runewell. she swings her crossbow over her shoulder, and draws her cold iron dagger. "If you're all ready for this, shall I activate it once more?"
Evelyn presses her dagger against her arm, puncturing her skin just enough to get a few drops of blood out of it. "Let me know when you're ready for it."
If the others indicate they're ready for it, Evelyn turns her arms and lets the few drops of blood from the tiny puncture wound fall into the runewell.
"Combatants to the front then..." Ekan moves to the fore, ready to go once more.
Eostre holds up her own bloody hand, and looks at Evelyn.
"Wait. Talk to it first, before we start stabbing. These things speak Aklo and so do you. Who knows? Maybe it'll obey you or something."
Nicat rolls his eyes as another person prepares to shed blood into the Runewell. Are all these people crazy?
Seeing the more measured approach that Evelyn takes, however, he settles down a bit and says, "Ikay, Evelyn, I guess I'm ready for another bloodwrath demonspawn to appear from the evil waters of evil."
Hearing Ekan's suggestion, Nicat then flourishes his sword and bravely takes a step backwards, leaving plenty of room for Ekan and Conner to take care of whatever appears this time. "Maybe Evelyn's blood will make something different," he muses quietly, "something perhaps not quite so...grumpy."
Conner sighs and moves back next to the runewell. "If I die, I'm going to haunt all of you."
"Understood," Ekan says to all comments, even Conner's.
Evelyn's blood spills into the well...
...
...
...and the waters begin bubbling once more. A feral growl rises from the pool.
A clawed hand lashes out from under the water, gripping the side of the pool and pulling up the beast attached to it!
It rises up to its full height and glares at everyone...
"Whack it, Conner!" Nicat cries out excitedly.
"WAIT!" Eostre shouts. She stares the wrathspawn in the eyes.
"នាងជាម្ចាស់របស់អ្នកឬ?" she asks it, pointing at Evelyn.
"Oh, right," Nicat says more calmly, "don't whack it...yet."
"Lots of haunting, especially when you're with a woman. Or in the privy."
"A lot of my friends are women, why would you want to haunt them too?" Ekan asks confused
Evelyn's heart skips a beat when the creature appears in front of her, but she goes with Eostre's plan.
"តើអ្នកដឹងថាអ្នកមកទីនេះតាមរយៈឈាមរបស់ខ្ញុំ? តើនេះមានន័យថាមានកិច្ចសន្យាឈាមហើយអ្នកឥឡូវបានបម្រើខ្ញុំ?" Evelyn asks the demon, showing it the cold iron dagger and the minor wound on her arm.
The abomination blinks in surprise as Evelyn addresses it in its native tongue.
It looks between her wound and her face before leaning forward and... sniffing? It appears to be sniffing her.
It snarls. "គ្មានព្រះពិរោធ។."
It keeps sniffing, growling and glaring. Until its gaze falls on Ekan. It sniffs him.
And its eyes light up in... approval?
"ព្រះពិរោធយ៉ាងខ្លាំង។. ជ្រៅ។. រឹងមាំ។."
It turns back to Evelyn and glares at her. "គ្មានព្រះពិរោធ។ គ្មានភាពសក្ដិសម។ ត្រូវការស្អប់។ ស្អប់។ ស្អប់។ ចូរស្អប់!" It snarls again.
It lunges for her!
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Eostre moves her glaive defensively.
"កខ្វក់ដ៏គ្រោះថ្នាក់! ដែលអ្នកចង់បានសម្រាប់ព្រះពិរោធរបស់ព្រះជាម្ចាស់? អ្នកនឹងមានវា!"
Eostre begins casting a spell, muttering and waving her free hand before reaching into her component pouch and grabbing a handful of colored sand out of it, tossing it into the air between her and the wrathspawn.
The sand hangs in the air for a moment, as if time itself has stopped, then explodes into a roiling cloud of colored light. Then that light blasts forward towards the wrathspawn.
The beast snaps its jaws at Eostre, but her magical barrier flares up and catches its bite, deflecting it harmlessly away!
The colours of light envelop the wrathspawn... and seem to deflect off of it as well.
It turns its attention back to Evelyn and attacks with fury!
The beast sinks its jaws into Evelyn's arm and flails wildly with its claws!
Rage like you've never felt. The First World could only DREAM of it.
They made you like this. They turned you into this. The hatespite to lash out overwhelms you...
"Damn monster!" Conner slashes hard, trying to get it's attention.
Conner's attack carves a deep wound into the beast, drawing a gout of black blood. It roars in pain and rage!
Already in position to strike, Ekan does so, his kama a rapid blur!
Evelyn screams and cackles as if possessed, swinging her dagger wildly in the air. She feels something twist and turn inside her stomach, and a whole other side of her emerges when the weird feeling turns into pure hatred, rage, and the desire to see the demon dead. "គ្មានសេចក្ដីក្រោធ ?! គ្មានសេចក្ដីក្រោធរបស់វានិយាយថា ?! ហិកហិកហិកហិកតា! ខ្ញុំនឹង gouge ភ្នែករបស់អ្នកចេញពីបំណែកអ្នក ****! ខ្ញុំនឹង **** ងរញ៉េរញ៉ៃអ្នកឡើង! គ្មានសេចក្ដីក្រោធរបស់វាបាននិយាយថា! គ្មានសេចក្ដីក្រោធ !!"
With the rage of a homicidal berserker, Evelyn tries to stab the demon. Her attack misses, but she only laughs louder in between her screams. "ព្រះពិរោធគ្មាន! គ្មានសេចក្ដីក្រោធ !! ខ្ញុំនឹង **** ាបរិភោគបេះដូងរបស់អ្នកនៅពេលអ្នកស្លាប់!
តើធ្វើដូចម្តេចអំពីថា ?! ហិកតាហិកតាហិកតាហិកតាហិកតា!"
Nicat takes a step closer to the wrathspawn, though Evelyn's crazed behavior makes him leery of getting much closer to her. "Did this thing make you crazy?" he asks her. "We'd better take it down fast."
He swings his sword two handed, hitting the creature with shocking power.
The combined efforts of everyone's attacks reduce the wrathspawn to little more than a bloody smear on the side of the runewell.
With the abomination's death, the waters of the runewell go still. Those with magically-enhanced senses can tell that the necromantic aura surrounding the well has faded away.
Everything is still in the room.
"Is it over?" Brodert timidly asks, nervously eying Evelyn.
"A good question, did it work?" He looks at the arcane inclined.
Eostre lights the fire in her eyes and examines the runewell once more.
"It's...it's gone dark. The necromantic power that was sustaining it is spent. It should be safe now."
She turns to Evelyn.
"Remind me not to get on your bad side."
"Thank the gods, it's done then. Maybe a lost soul is finally at peace," He looks around, wondering if he'll see a phantom face.
Evelyn takes a few careful steps away from the demon's corpse. "That wasn't me... or at least not who I usually am... That demon did something strange to me..."
"Was anyone else wounded?" she asks while putting her dagger away.
"Sinspawn, not demon. It's from the twisted dark places beyond mortal comprehension, not the Abyss. The ones we killed yesterday did something similar to Conner and Ekan. I'm fine."
Nicat keeps a watchful eye on Evelyn, glad that she's speaking a language he can understand now. And Eostre seems to be back to her normal self, correcting people on things no one can possibly know anything about.
"Wow, I'm glad the well is taken care of. I wasn't looking forward to seeing what my blood produced. And I don't even want to think about what Conner's blood would make climb out of that thing."
Turning to the priest and the scholar, he asks, "Father Zantus, Quink, do you have more you want to do here? We should take a look around the rest of this place, make sure there aren't any more horrid surprises like this."
"Clearly if we had used my blood, we'd all be dead. Because I'm so amazing. We need to clear the rest of this place, so this rune-something can be studied in peace."
"Father Zantus, Quink, do you have more you want to do here? We should take a look around the rest of this place, make sure there aren't any more horrid surprises like this."
Brodert eagerly nods. "Oh, yes yes yes! My heavens, do you have any idea how rare an opportunity this is? To study an actual runewell from the time of ancient Thassilon?" He starts frantically digging around in his satchel.
"This is absolutely fascinating...!"
Father Zantus, however, is making a better effort at maintaining his composure. "Yes, there is something else I wish to do here. That basin with the Waters of Lamashtu..." He casts a contemptuous glance at the shrine room. "...I intend to purify it, so as to wash her taint away from this place for good."
The scholar eyes the priest with a raised eyebrow.
"Something wrong, Brodert?"
"And that'll leave the others to... explore the remainder of this place, wasn't it?"
Evelyn's thoughts wonder off to the sinspawn she just summoned with her own blood. She shudders when she recalls the creature's voice.
I hope we're not going to encounter more of those creatures. It did something weird to me...
"Something wrong, Brodert?"
Brodert shrugs. "No, not really. Just curious as to why he phrased it like that."
"And that'll leave the others to... explore the remainder of this place, wasn't it?"
"I think that would be for the best." Father Zantus nods before walking back into the shrine room, holding his holy symbol. "Please be as thorough as possible."
"Something wrong, Brodert?"Brodert shrugs. "No, not really. Just curious as to why he phrased it like that."
"Because..." Eostre asks in a questioning tone.
"Okay, then," Nicat says, "looks like the priest and the scholar have jobs to do here - if they don't tear each others' eyes out. In the meantime, we've got some more exploring and such to do. Let's go back the way we came, and check out the first new door we see."
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"Because..."
Brodert just shrugs. "No reason. I'd have just put it differently."
---------------With Father Zantus performing a ritual to Desna in the shrine of Lamashtu and Brodert Quink busily taking as many notes on the runewell as his quill, ink & paper will allow, the party sets out to clear out the rest of the Catacombs of Wrath. As they leave the 'cathedral' and the shrine, they notice that everything seems... more peaceful now.
...
...
Nicat hears the *skitterpattering* of feet coming from the passage ahead!
"Heeheeheeheehahahaha--" *HACK HACK *
The mad giggling and retching are then followed by a blast of what appears to be a mixture of blood and vomit, straight down the hallway the party is traversing!
The spray of bodily fluids catches Conner & Ekan off guard and *sizzles* against their skins, while Nicat is able to avoid the worst of it! The smell is absolutely hideous--it reeks of bile, blood, dead flesh, and gods above only know what else.
Standing at the end of the hallway is a goblin the size of a man. His mouth is caked in blood, and his ragged leather armour looks like it's on the verge of breaking apart. A third arm sprouts from his left side, its flesh gnarled and twisted. The goblin carries three weapons in his hands: a silvered knife in his third hand, a sharp-looking handaxe in his left hand, and a well-crafted longsword in his right.
The goblin cackles again and runs off to the north!
Nicat cries out in disgust and pain as the awful, stinging goo lands on them. ”Yuck! What is this stuff? Let’s get that guy, come on!” He darts around the corner, sword still in hand.