"Thank you Filiana. It looks like you learned something today." She follows Khardan into the hallway.
A flicker of a smile flashes across Filiana's face. She's right... you did... you're not exactly going to change the world with it, but it is more than I could do this morning. Or at least, more than I knew I could do...
She looks down at her hands, for a moment... I wonder what else I can do that I don't know about?
"It looks like I have much still to learn."
As the party steps forward, trying to get out of the pool of brackish water, an ear-splitting wave of pained screams and shrieks fills the room, along with the reek of burning flesh and the ever-choking odour of smoke. The nightmarish howling lingers for a few seconds, then abruptly falls silent--only to be replaced with a sickening *squelching* noise coming from the pool's waters.
Behind the party rise three spirit-like humanoid creatures, their 'skin' seeming to melt and flow together like candle wax. A pale green glow suffuses their bodies, and their baleful red eyes fixate on the party with expressions of pain and rage. They begin to float forward, dripping pale flesh from their charred bones!
Imperia pulls out her mace, and focuses on it. It begins to glow and take on an old patina.
Filiana freezes momentarily, shocked into inaction by the sudden screams. As she sees the apparitions, she looks about, her first instinct to flee from the horrors before her.
By the gods!! What are these things? They ... they ... What will they ... Lady ... Goddess... help me!!
Suddenly, still staring unblinkingly at the approaching creatures, Filiana begins to gesture and mutter unintelligibly. Moments later a pale white glow forms all around her at a distance of about a foot.
Her attention is momentarily pulled away from the creatures by Imperia's action and she focuses on that briefly, trying to understand what it is that she has done.
Oh I see. She used magic on her weapon... no, no ... she made her weapon magical somehow... that is amazing... I wonder if I can do something like that?
Bramwell hisses as he draws the scythe from his back, swinging it forwad so that both his hands can establish a firm grip. Moving with feline reflexes, he quickly wades out of the water pool and circles around the creature close to him, positioning himself to attack from behind.
Lord Bramwell's scythe rips through the tormented creature, causing its form to collapse into vile-looking green slime that starts to spread through the pool.
The feathers on the back of Cawthorne's neck rise at the nightmarish assault on his ears and nose, and he turns with dread to confront the floating apparitions.
Abadar preserve us!
Dropping his bag at his feet, the doctor grabs his cane with both hands and charges forward with a prolonged, terrified squawk, splashing through the pool to swing wildly at one of the restless dead.
The good doctor swings his cane and connects with the slime creature. The... thing's form feels like rubber underneath his cane's strike--it shifts and bends around it with a sickly *squelching* noise before letting it go. It doesn't look like it's been hurt.
Cawthorne looks down at his cane then up into the unsettling red eyes of the unharmed apparition and audibly gulps.
Audubon, what have you done?
Khardan steps up just behind the bird-doctor and blesses his weapon.
"The Golden Bulwark shield you and guide you," he says.
Cawthorne flinches away from Khardan's voice before realizing it's source. A blessing for my weapon... He grips his cane tighter and gulps again, but resolutely straightens his back and squares his shoulders to the fearsome phantom in front of him.
The remaining spirit-like beasts advance on Filiana & Dr. Cawthorne...
While the doctor manages to evade the slime-beast's swing, Filiana is struck across the face despite her protective magics. A sense of panic threatens to grip her...
Stepping between Cawthorne and Filiana, Khardan again calmly lays a hand on his companion's shoulder.
"You are the shield that guards innocent. You shall not falter nor fail."
Imperia makes her move toward the creature. She slips between it and Khardan.
She swings her legacy imbued mace at it.
Bramwell steps over the slimy puddle that was once his ghostly enemy and advances against the ectoplasmic creature engaged in combat with Cawthorne. The dhampir takes position next to the doctor and, once again, brings down the blade of the scythe on his opponent. Tragically, Bramwell miscalculates the depth of the water pool at this point of the room; a slight loss of balance throwss his attack off, and leaves the nobleman open to the monster's reaction.
Amidst the sloshing and splashing of the foul pool's pitched melee, Cawthorne throws his full weight behind a desperate swing of his cane.
Bramwell's spirit leans back and avoids his swing, and Imperia's target strikes at her...
...missing completely as its ectoplasmic form stretches awkwardly and flails about.
Dr. Cawthorne's strike is more precise this time, and his now magic cane strikes the green spirit with a *SQUELCH*. Green matter flies about, but the beast is still holding itself together.
Filiana cries out in pain and shrinks back from spirit-beast
Oh, oh it hurts so... such a thing... it will... it will kill us all. Run! Get away from it! NO! Come on Fi, no running... fight back... hit it back... but how do I? How ... oh ...
Her eyes light up with a pale white glow as unintellible words tumble from her mouth. Suddenly a beam of pure white light shoots out from her hand at the creature.
Filiana's beam strikes the ectoplasmic creature square, causing it to gurgle and advance on her, ignoring Imperia entirely.
This time, thanks to a combination of protective magics and her own quick feet, she's able to evade its wild swing.
Dr. Cawthorne's opponent swings back at him...
...and slams a slimy fist into his chest. The shadows of the room seem to deepen around him...
Cawthorne shouts in alarm as the creature soils his suit coat with it's slime, and then again as his eyes dart from shadow to shadow in fear. Gods know what else is waiting for us down here! He takes several panicked swings at the enemy floating in the air before him, none of which connect.
Dr. Cawthorne's swing is wild, and the slimy spirit is able to lean away from it with some effort.
Horrified to find the creature seems to be pursuing her, Filiana gasps and takes another quick step backwards away from it.
That... that... whatever it is that you just did, seemed to hurt it. Do it again. Perhaps you can drive it off.
With that, she repeats the words she said just a moment ago, the words coming more readily to her lips this time.
But as she backs up her heel catches on the uneven ground as it rises up from the water and the white beam flies wide, passing over the creature's shoulder.
Khardan steps to Imperia's side, his gnarled hand resting briefly on the scholar's sleeve.
"In battle we are purified. In war we serve."
With this simple prayer he opens Imperia's mind up to a world of tactical advantages.
"Good job little one. That hurt it." She gives Khardan a grateful nod, and takes a step nearer the creature and swings her mace at the creature.
Bramwell regains firm footing and lashes out again, his scythe rising from the pool and slicing the water as it goes up seeking its target.
Lord Bramwell's strike cleaves the spirit in twain, breaking its form apart and causing its essence to rapidly decay into nothing.
Imperia's blow strikes her target square--but the blunt instrument simply sinks into the beast's slimy flesh and bounces off!
The remaining spirit is relentless in its pursuit of Filiana, advancing on her again and swinging a fist at her...
...once again managing to slug her in her jaw.
Concentrate, Audubon! Cawthorne shakes his head to clear his senses, then advances and aims an overhead swing at the remaining phantom.
"Begone, foul spirit!"
Dr. Cawthorne's blow has enough strength behind it to cause the ectoplasmic thing to fly apart.
As the spirit monster strikes her yet again, Filiana cries out in pain and fear and falls back from the beast, all thought of fighting back driven out of her. Mere moments later the good doctor's mighty blow sends the thing back to the spirit realm. Startled at the sudden end of the threat she staggers back a few more steps, suddenly irrationally keen to be out of the water.
There she stands, hunched over, clutching at her side where the first blow landed and gasping in both fear and pain. Then, as the fear subsides her breathing slows, though she remains bent over and hunched into herself.
"Gods! Is it... is it always like this? How do people choose to do this? She coughs briefly, breaking off into a moan of pain as the cough exacerbates the feeling of both injured ribs and face.
Cawthorne pants for a few moments, flush with adrenaline. As the excitement passes he looks down and lets out a groan of dismay at the state of his clothes. He sloshes back to dry land next to Filiana and carefully plucks one of the small iron vials off his belt, removes the stopper, and drinks it's contents. He sighs as the extract's soothing warmth spreads through his chest.
"Gods! Is it... is it always like this? How do people choose to do this?"
"They put duty before comfort, my dear, and Ustalav before themselves." But one hopes it is not always in the face of such creatures. He turns a critical eye to the halfling. "Are you wounded badly? Let me see." He stoops to squint at her side. "You are. Not ideal conditions to perform surgery." He retrieves his bag from the damp floor anyways and opens it, sifting through it's contents. "I can mix you a curative draught. I keep the necessary compounds on hand in case of just such an emergency..."
"I'm afraid I don't have any curative's on me. Lord Bramwell is the only one I can heal at the moment. Khardan did you get any curing potions from the good father?"
"It is no sport," says Khardan to Filiana. "We do what we must so that others may be protected behind our shield. Be at ease, child of kindly gods."
Khardan lays a leathery hand on Filiana's shoulder and prays for the protection of Arqueros.
"You'll want to step back, my lord."
Once Bramwell clears the area, he prays for healing.
Seeing that Filiana is still hurt, he burns his last spell, converting into into a prayer.
Cawthorne stares wide-eyed at Khardan as he works his miracles, then sheepishly finishes mixing his extract. "Yes, well, just in case we should need it..." He slips the vial into a loop on his belt and re-packs his bag. "I did not realize the depth of favor your Arqueros shows you, Khardan." Blessings and healing? There's more to this brute than I ever suspected - no wonder the professor kept him in his employ!
Filiana's stares at Khardan in astonishment as she feels the healing energy wash over her and the massive throb of pain in her face and ribs recede before it. She gingerly touches at the two wounded areas, feeling the residual pain but nothing of any great moment.
Oh, thank you... thank you Khardan. I feel so much better. I had not known it was possible to hurt so much. Nor for it to be soothed away so quickly.
Khardan smiles at Cawthorne and Filiana. It's not a pretty sight, but it is somehow comforting. "I'm just the messenger. The Golden Bulwark healed you, not me. But remember - pain can be good. It's how you know you're still alive. As long as you hurt, you know to keep fighting."
"But you're a warrior now. You've just come through your first real battle and you did good. In fact you did as well as anybody. Time for you to start believing in yourself."
The half-orc goes to look down the hallway they have now cleared.
"You did well little one. Perhaps there will be books in the great library about your adventures some day. Only those who are a bit insane want to do this. The others who take on tasks such as this do it for various reasons. Mine is because evil cannot stand. Why the people of this village let these spirits stay here this long baffles me."
The hallway Khardan investigates isn't really a hallway--it's really more of a hole that leads into a large, square stone chamber.
Four dark hallways exit from this large empty chamber, each striking out in one of the four directions of the compass, and each decorated with a soot-caked brass nameplate affixed to the ceiling just above the entrance. A rubble-choked stairway leads up in the middle of the room, while eight skeletons dressed in scorched prisoners’ robes lie on the ground.
At Khardan's words, Filiana looks considerably encouraged and her head lifts, just a little. She even manages a small smile and stretches against the remnant of her former injury. Well, based on how I feel at the moment, I am definitely alive
As Imperia adds her comments to Khardan's, Filiana muses on a surprising sudden feeling of elation. I do not know that there will be books about my adventures, but I think I understand the insanity you talk of a little now. Only a minute ago I thought I was about to die and now I feel so very alive. Perhaps more so than I ever have before. But it is no easy thing, to walk into this sort of life. People, ordinary people. Like those of my home, like those of Ravengro, they find it easier to just keep their heads down,to pretend that the horrors just outside their door isn't really there. Because even admitting that the horrors are there is more than they can bear. It becomes easier to live with the fear. Especially when it is all you have ever known. After all, this place was destroyed over forty years ago. So that probably means that half the people in Ravengro have never known it as anything but a burnt out ruin to be avoided. It isn't anymore something to 'do something about' than a local forest.
She stops and smiles again... Goodness, listen to me rattling on like I knew what I was talking about. Perhaps I should save all this chat for some time in safer walls, preferably with a drink to hand.
With that she glances at Imperia's weapon to check that the Light spell is still going on it and then follows along into the next chamber.
"Careful. In this place, skeletons might be as dead as they seem."
Khardan carefully moves into the room.
Filiana nods at Khardan's warning and moves just inside the room, keeping a careful eye on the skeletons.
I can't believe I'm doing this. I get badly hurt by some ghost thing and now I'm wandering in to a room that has a pile of skeletons that might just leap up and try to finish what the ghost started. Why aren't I just running away? That would be the sensible thing to do.
She shakes her head in puzzlement at her own actions and stands ready in the room.
Their victory over the floating horrors strengthening his resolve, Cawthorne moves confidently into the next chamber, doctor's bag in one hand and cane raised high in the other.
We'll show these spirits what civilized folk can do!
He peers into the shadowy depths of this new chamber and his self-assurance begins to waver. "I say, would anyone happen to have more light?"
"I'm afraid not." Imperia follows Khardan into the room mace retrieved and at the ready.
Filiana looks around the room for something to help shed more light.
The party's search for additional light seems to have caused a stir in the room. A *hiss* of ill wind blows across several of the skeletons, causing their bones to twitch and rise from the dust where they lie.
Eight of them reassemble themselves, their jaws hanging open in a silent scream.
Khardan drops his spear and races to the middle of the room, pulling out his warhammer as he goes, (no AoO's because the skeletons are flatfooted) and casts a spell.
Imperia moves up next to one of the skeletons and swings her mace at it. "These poor souls."
Khardan's prayer to Arqueros imbues his hammer with a portion of his lord's divine strength.
Imperia's strike is wild, and the skeleton unsteadily ducks under it.