Tempest manoeuvres Stormcloud to the edge of the overlooking balcony, protected by the handrail. Standing high in her saddle, she raises a hand and unleashes a brilliant ball of sizzling electrical energy. The bright bluish white ball flies through the air towards the center zombie (the once above the B2).
Xander's eyes go wide as he watches Milo dash forward with the wrong weapon before he could be warned. He grimaces and moves forward, tossing a vial of holy water with a strange leather thong.
"Pull back, Milo! Let them come to us!"
Perhaps I spoke too soon... Mavro thinks to himself, his expression turning to one of disgust. Convenient enough, considering that both the undead abominations and the repugnant smell were absolutely revolting. Distracted by the discovery, he is left with no time to react to Milo's rash action. "Damn it boy! Not all of us are so light on our feet..."
Eying the fuming vats, Mavro errs on the side of caution, moving his staff to his dominant hand and grabbing hold of some of the chains with the other. Hearing Xander's warning to Milo, the magus grunts, moving towards Varta. His stomach nearly turning along the way, he settles behind the dwarf's position.
Round 1, Init 5
"I see-- your point--" Milo wheezes in response to Xander's words. Gods, the smell in here! It's all he can do not to retch his guts up. Nose wrinkled, he draws back to the stairs.
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In a second, the smoky room becomes a theatre of battle: Milo’s attack is not very effective and he quickly comes to his senses, going back near Xander. The nobleman’s flask of Holy Water further injures the first zombie, who is now decaying quickly in front of your own eyes – yet it keeps coming at you. In fact, just as Milo is about to go back to the stairs, the zombie manages to land a strong punch in the rogue's spleen. A splinter of broken bone coming out of the zombie's arm pierces both clothes and skin, wounding Milo.
Varta miraculously manages not to slip on the wet walkway when attacking another zombie – Mavro follows her much more cautiously; both adventurers are of sturdy builds and the fumes don’t affect them further than the occasional cough.
The undead and the dwarven maiden uselessly exchange blows – both not very steady on their feet, the two miss their attacks.
Amidst the starting brawl, a sparkling ball sizzles through the vapors, casting an eerie reflection on the bubbling vats: a strong discharge of electricity hits one of the zombies full in the chest: the smell of burned rotting meat adds to the chemical fumes as the corpse falls, destroyed, in one of the vats.
Even in the chaos of battle, you can hear a high-pitched scream of fear coming from the northernmost side of the room – you can’t see well because of the mist, but the scream seemed definitely human.
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Varta tries again against Mr Zombie.
for damage
"Oh, hells..." Xander says when he hears the scream. "Change of plans, Milo. You've got someone to save."
Xander touches Milo's shoulder and says "Stay with him. You know what to do."
A wisp of something fog-like with a faint bluish luminescence flowed down Xander's arm and wrapped itself around Milo before fading from sight. Xander slapped two vials into Milo's hands and pointed down the center walkway.
"Go. They won't see you unless you touch them."
Round 2, Init 5
"Eh?" says Milo as he cradles the bottles in one arm. "Make up your mind, man! Withdraw, now go in! Stop, Milo! Go, Milo!"
He grins even as he complains. "If I die from the smell, tell my mother I loved her!"
Once more into the breach!
If the undead before Varta does not, Mavro would cautiously loose his grip on the chain, instead using his hand to point a finger over her should and at the foul creature. After a second or so of mumbling under his breath, a beam of brilliant energy shoots out toward the zombie.
Alternatively, if it is already redead, he will fire it at the next closest one.
Tempest throws another Lighning Ball at a zombie.
Varta’s glaive parts the zombie really fine, and Mavro’s spell is just the finishing touch: the zombie, half dismembered, collapses into the nearby vat, destroyed. The same happens when Tempest unleashes once again her lightning powers: the rags and chemical facepaint the zombie is wearing bunr and sizzles as the undead crumbles to pieces into the bubbling middenstone.
Looks like this batch of mortar will be extra thick!
The other zombies keep coming, completely void of self-preservation instinct. They replace their fallen in threatening the intruders, and one of them manages to land a nasty hit on Varta.
In the confusion of the battle, the high-pitched voice who just a second ago screamed of fear in now heard again, much clearer now. “Begone! Begone, you monstrous…” from the door to the opposite side of the vats emerges a ragged-looking man, long greasy hair covering his pasty, emaciated face. His figure is somewhat hidden from the vapors, but not so much as to not be visible. He wears a long robe, once white, now greyish and full of purple middenstone spots.
He stops mid-sentence when he sees the intruders “What… what are you doing here? Where is the monster?” he looks around frantically, keeping his balance only by holding onto the railing. “You… you can’t be here!” his tone, that from fearful had become perplexed, now veers towards anger as he sees you making short work of the zombies “You have no right to do that! Who sent you? Was it Graumann? I will send that fat bastard a message!” he gestures and speaks some arcane words.
From the ground between the stairs, above the vats, a plethora of rubbery limbs and tentacles erupt from the ground, bashing and grabbing at anyone nearby. "Let's see you breaking in now!"
The tentacles's strength is too much for our heroes: in a moment, the noble oracle, the Ustalavian rake, the lightning-touched halfling and her wolf are all entanlged and beaten by the disgusting magical limbs.
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"Still think we need to perform a rescue?" Milo cries as he swings wildly with his sword at the hideous tentacles that are wrapped around his leg.
He struggles to free himself, twisting and turning to get out of the mass of horror.
Alas, there is no joy in Mudville, mighty Milo has struck out.
Tempest does her best to wriggle free of the writhing tentacles. If she get's free, she'll move east to the stairs.
Stormcloud follows suit, writhing to get himself free.
"Remarkable," Mavro says with equal parts disdain and awe, the writhing mass of tentacles just barely visible through the doorway. To Varta, he adds, "There is nothing we can do for them now! Get this lump of flesh out of our way so we can go after the conjurer!"
As with before, if the undead still stands after being attacked, the magus will blast it with the same cantrip. If not, he will fire it at the one across the vat.
Varta whacks at the nasty with her glaive.
for damage
Xander struggles to no avail.
What seemd like normal administration for our heroes is now rapidly turning into a desperate situation. The disgusting arcane tentacles summoned by the mage at the end of the room are keeping in check two-thirds of the group, while the zombies, inefficient and staggering as they are, keep coming in waves.
“AH! Idiots!” screams the mage above the chaos of battle “I facey… I faced horrors… huge horrors you cannot fathom!” the man’s speech is incoherent and stumbling ”You-you are just fiph…filthy merceranies, you are NOTHING to me! You will go on… and become a cautionary tale for Graumann…” a sickly green spray of sizzling acid darts from the Mage’s index finger, directed at Varta.
The dwarven maiden is ready: she ducks under the acid, which splashes harmlessly the middenstone wall to her right, then using the momentum of her movement she swings the long blade of her polearm from left to right, cutting in half the zombie who just a second before hacked at her. The two rotten body parts fall into the vat, but immediately another undead takes the place of the one just slain.
Mavro, enjoying the cover provided by the tough-as-nails Varta, keeps hitting the zombies with his disrupting ray. The one from other side of the vat manages to stay more or less functioning even after being hit – its lower jaw falls on the ground, literally, but its legs keep going towards Milo and its arms try to hit him. Even entangled in the tentacles and wounded, the rogue is too swift for the zombie’s clumsy attack.
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"Not... how I planned... dying..." Milo says, caught between a dead body and a mass of black tentacles. Again he tries to wiggle free! He'll just pretend that the tentacles are the father of a lovely young lady whose company he's enjoyed for the night...
Varta gets all whacky with the next undead dude.
for
Quickly growing tired of their dilemma, Mavro points finger at the other approaching undead () and fires yet another disrupt undead ray at it.
Tempest and Stormcloud continue their struggles to get free.
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The tentacles keep grabbing and bludgeoning the heroes: they envelop Xander and the powerful body of the wolf, but after long seconds of struggle the lithe frames of Milo and Tempest are finally able to get free from the awful tentacles. The sorcerous Halfling moves to safety, breathing heavily and just relieved to be out of the nightmarish jungle of limbs. Upbeat Milo goes one step beyond, and as a thick tentacle springs towards to grab him, he steps on it and uses it as a trampoline to somersault over the approaching zombie, landing on the other side; he keeps on running, his balance impeccable even on the slippery floor.
Varta and Mavro keep on fighting, shoulder to shoulder: their attacks grow weaker though, and even if they both hit, their targets keep coming. However one runs pathetically into the tentacles, trying to hack at Xander, and ends up being bludgeoned by its own Master’s spell; two others crowd the border of the vat and both attack Varta, but their fists harmlessly impact on the dwarf’s armor.
“Attack him! HIM, you idiots!” the mage, showing more and more signs of a scattered mind, screams at his zombies to attack Milo, unaware of the cloaking spell on the rogue. “You think you are safe? Think… think again!” screams the mage at Milo “I command you to stop!” the young rogue feels a strong compulsion to stay still, immobile… for just a second. His disgust for undead and necromancers is enough for him to shake off the effect. He barely misses a step in his movement, while the mage, growing with frustration and fear, looks at him advancing.
Maybe the mage's confidence is waning, but not the tentacles' strength. They keep a firm hold on the oracle and the wolf, and lash at them savagely.
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Varta attacks the zombie, again
for damage
"I fear there is little enough I can do for you!" Milo calls over his shoulder to Xander, and to Tempest as her wolf is still trapped by the tentacles. "Perhaps if I stop this fellow who's created this horror, you may get free! Pharasma grant you luck to live!"
And with that-- he's off, darting along the condensation-slick catwalks, spinning past the zombie that lurches in the center of the room, his white smile flashing much like the blade of his rapier as he races towards the man at the far end of the room.
"Have at thee, dastard! --you know, I've always wanted to say that..."
Milo has no difficulty navigating the damp floor, and skids the last few feet to slide to a dramatic stop before the startled magician.
"Ow!" Xander yells as a tentacle wrenches him painfully as he tries to escape. Undeterred, he redoubles his efforts.
Tempest growls in frustration after managing to slip free from the tentacles. With little she can do to help Stormcloud escape, she turns her fury on the caster.
"Let him go, you bastard!"
Tempest summons up her will and brings to life a crackling ball of energy right in the foul necromancer's space.
Grasping the chains overhead again, Mavro slips past Varta as hastily as possible, stepping over the small corpse pile ().
When he is clear of the bodies, he then twists and swings his staff at the lingering zombie.
Mavro zaps the same undead as before with his cantrip once again.
A crackling sphere of electricity, carrying Tempest’s Vengeance, quickly rolls into the mage. He screams as the energy sizzles through his body, leaving burning marks on his skin and clothes and an unpleasant smell of singed flesh.
While the previously summoned tentacles keep on being an inescapable prison for Xander and Stormcloud, the mage quickly panics when he looks in horror at his scorched hands and spots Milo getting within stabbing distance. “Dare you threaten me? Hah!” in between the stench of middenstone and that of burnt hair and skin coming from the electrocuted mage, Milo can recognize the distinguishable smell of cheap alcohol coming from the adversary’s breath. “Feeling weak? You should!” staggering around Milo’s blade, the mage actually manages to press two fingers dripping black energy on the rogue’s forehead without getting hit.
For a second, Milo feels a cold shiver down his spine as the unnatural spell tries to affect him; but once again even the great power of the necromancer can nothing against the mettle and resolve of the Rake from Ustalav!
Meanwhile, the zombies are coming to an end. One gets mauled by the tentacles, stupidly trying to hack at Xander. Varta and Mavro dispatch two more, and now face the last one. Mavro got sloppy though: he gets distracted for a second watching the zombie he just destroyed fall into a vat, and doesn’t defend himself properly from the attack. The undead hacks at the Pathfinder’s face, painfully clawing away pieces of skin and strands of his magnificent beard.
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"Weak? Never, sir-- if I faint, it is only the foulness of your breath! Can you not afford a better wine to wash away your shame?" Milo says laughing, as if it were all a great game. Pharasma smiles on him another day, it seems. Or at least, another handful of seconds.
Milo dances around the man with a sunny smile and a flourish of his blade that slices only air.
With the pit no longer at his back, Milo lunges forward-- not with his blade, which he drops at his feet,, but with his arms instead, seeking to wrap them around the man and pin his arms to his sides. It seems better to stop him casting spells than to run him through.
Varta attacks the last zombie.
for damage
Growling in disgust as blood soaks into his magnificent beard, Mavro releases the chain and brings both hands toward the center of his staff, before swinging it at the last undead in a long arc.
Once again Mavro and Varta take down a zombie, which falls flailing its limbs into the bubbling vat. Now the room is free but for the necromancer, who is struggling to get out of Milo’s hold. “You dare… don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” he seems to panic quickly when he realizes Milo is keeping in check “Let me go! Let me go! The beast is coming! It will come for me let me go!” he keeps rambling, the state of drunkenness showing even more now that you’re in contact.
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Milo grins as he manages to wrestle both arms down to the man's sides and get him good and tangled up.
"Dismiss your spell, wizard, before it strangles the life from the others, and then we'll talk of freeing you! As long as your tentacles hold my colleagues hostage, I likewise hold you! Decide quickly, before your 'beast' arrives!"
Varta moves forward to confront the drunken evil man. She moves from dangling chain to dangling chain.
Round 6:
Tempest waits for Stormcloud to free himself, and positions herself to help Xander with his next attempt to escape. Mentally, she moves the glowing ball of lightning towards the far end of the room, towards the mage.
Round 7:
Tempest darts forward and grabs a hold of Xander, trying to pull him free of the coils. As Stormcloud gets free, he too grabs hold of Xander's cloak, and pulls with Tempest.
Letting out a "harrumph" when the last of the zombies falls, Mavro grabs onto a chain and nonchalantly follows after Varta, his interest in the crazed mage piqued.
Not even the help of Tempest and Stormcloud is enough to free Xander from the grip of the tentacles. Feeling weaker by the second, the chosen of Pharasma gets mauled again and again by the disgusting magical tentacles: as the wolf and the Halfling pull the cloak, it rips, leaving the duo with a torn piece of cloth in their hands and maw.
Just as futile are Xander’s attempt to free himself, so are the necromancer’s. The drunk wizard stumbles and struggles, but Milo’s grip on his wrists is solid, and a combination of Milo’s threat and seeing the towering figure of Mavro and the less tall, but no less menacing one of Varta closing in, is enough for the wizard to start shaking with fear. “You don’t know what you’re talking about boy! Don’t mention the beast like that! We have to go! The beast will come for me and eat all of us!”
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