Christoph nods approval to Aliseya's choice. Willing to face this. A good sign... His eyes flicker to their unusual new companion. Good that she knows, too. Wouldn't want to have to break this on my own.
Listening to Aliseya's reminiscences, Christoph's throat constricts and he keep silent, not sure how to start. Glad she had decent foster parents at least. Not going to be easy. Break it easy, Speaker.
His voice halting even as he tries to explain, "Err. A... a story, it would be good. Later, perhaps. I don't know for sure, but there's signs that indicate it, that you are a changeling. A changeling is the child of a hag and a male lover. A hag, if you didn't know, are a type of monster. They live in dark foul places of the wilds. Swamps and dark forests and such." Christoph's voice is level as he recites, as if from a lesson. "They've magic, and they tend to use it when they breed. If I'm right, and I'm not certain that I am, then your birth mother would be a type called a green hag. I can tell you more, but it isn't pleasant. I've learned they have a penchant for cruelty."
"As for you, well, the parents you know would have found you at their doorstep one day. A changeling takes after their birth father and tend to be dark-haired and attractive. Mismatched eyes and paler skin then normal are typical for them. Most... from what I know... feel a call. A need to go and discover their 'mother'. Their birth mother that is."
Clearing his throat, he glances from Aliseya to Naught significantly, then back. "If you have more questions, I might be able to answer."
”A call?” Naught blinks. ”And mismatched eyes?”
Aliseya cheers up a bit as she thinks of a childhood story to tell. When Christoph interjects, she seems a bit dejected at first. But she nods agreeably.
"Another time, then. Yeah, this isn't the time or place for fond stories..."
The Varisian wanderer listens intently to the Speaker as he explains. Her brows furrow, all joviality gives way to serious absorption of every spoken syllable coming out of his mouth.
After he finishes, Ali sighs. It takes her a moment to process everything.
"But my mother wasn't a monster. She was a wonderful and caring person. Tată used to..."
She halts mid-sentence. Her heterochromatic eyes flicker. Her own words, spoken just a moment ago, come back to haunt her:
'Tată told me all about her. He told me many stories... He enjoyed telling stories. He had a gift for it...'
"...tell me stories."
"Stories."
Unable to find more words, her eyes slowly glance downwards. She stands in silence. Her mind is now a tempest of emotions and thoughts. They race back to begin reevaluating everything: what her father told her of her "mother," about how much more sense her visitation with the green hag now makes, and about how much more sense her emerging dark alter ego now makes.
As Christoph speaks about changelings and hags, you all recognize that Aliseya obviously has the eyes to fit the description. Varisians are known to sometimes have odd eye colorations: including violet like Christoph's, or even gold like Naught's. But heterochromia is not more common than for other humans.
Her skin tone is certainly not pale. She's better described as having a light olive complexion. Yet Varisians tend to have a range of dusky skin tones. For a Varisian, Ali is indeed on the paler side, as Christoph put it, of that spectrum.
Though Christoph's knowledge speaks little (so far) of the fate of changelings or of Aliseya's multiple personalities, it is conceivable that not all paths from changeling towards hagdom might look the same...
"It is possible that since Green Hags have a talent for deception and ensnaring the minds of those they use to bear children, his memories of her might have been planted, or illusory." Rhia says gently.
Overcome by waves of her own emotions, the changeling dancer barely registers Zelda's unease. Still embracing Naught and Roland, she only tightens her arms around the storyteller's neck.
"Yeah... maybe..." She nods over Naught's shoulder, responding to Rhia's more appealing suggestion.
Naught gently pats the Dancer as she holds her, so much starting to click into place. ”What other types of Hags are there?”
The companions continue their revealing conversation as they explore the count's fascinatingly bizarre museum of curiosities, each exhibit more disturbing than the last.
Of the three doors in the entrance hall, they enter the leftmost first. The great skeleton of a sea cow dominates this room, hung from the ceiling on a set of iron rungs, held together by a steel frame. Numerous jars sit on shelves within the room, containing alchemically preserved octopi, tubeworms, the head of a skum, a curiously repellent eel-like creature with fangs, and a strange, mermaidlike creature with the upper body of a monkey and the tail of a fish.
Zelda approaches the small, odd mer-primate in its jar. Something catches her fascination about it, and she leans in to have a closer look... Suddenly, its eyes open wide, giving her quite the fright! With a bubbling, underwater scream, the creature claws and pounds on the glass walls of its jar. Yet it appears safely trapped within, and of little threat.
Caught up in explaining the various kinds of hags to the best of her knowledge, Rhia fails to notice the details of the room as they enter, finding herself completely startled as the monkey-fish creature screams
Zelda examines the secret door for a few moments. She finds no evidence of traps there, only a spiral staircase leading up to the next floor.
On opening the entrance hall's central door, a stuffed bulette faces and greets you in the next room. Cabinets along the walls contain a partially dissected bugbear, a partially transformed doppelganger, and a complete goblin dog, all preserved in alchemical fluids.
Christoph absorbs what Rhia says, filing away the tidbit to be remembered later. Lady of Graves, but it's hard to bear that kind of news. Worse to hear it though, Voice. Don't forget it. Clearing his throat he replies to Naught, "I don't know for sure, I'll think on it. Haven't run into one."
Glancing carefully at Aliseya, he's happy to be on the move again. The bizarre cabinet of curiosities he found himself in sets him on edge. Too many skeletons and too many corpses that could easily be a foe waiting in ambush. These damnable nobles and their hobbies...
He jumps slightly at the sudden movement of the creature, arrow drawn back and pointed by reflex before he realizes its no threat. He muses aloud in disgust, "How's it that this count got a ningyo all the way from the jungle to here. Might not have been living, but that's worse if anything. Fool man..."
Entering the next room cautiously, he shakes his head at the monstrous menagerie floating before him. He recognizes a bulette as he enters, a doppelganger caught halfway through transformation, and a goblin dog. The other looks familiar, but despite racking his brains, Christoph cannot name it. He grunts sourly, "Too much time on his hands if he gathered all this. Plenty of danger here."
He turns to the others when no threat presents itself, "I'd say we check that last room, then head up. Best not to have enemies behind us."
This room is filled with weird-looking preserved creatures. Two elaborately carved and painted sarcophagi stand against the east and west walls. A pile of chains lies in the center of the floor.
Among the more unsavory creatures on display in this room are the tentacle of a froghemoth, a pickled intellect devourer, and a desiccated darkmantle.
In the far northwestern corner of the room, there's a door on the north wall. In the northeastern corner, there's a trapdoor in the floor leading down.
Christoph moves through the next room, gazing in mute, horrified fascination at the displays. A pure madman...
He vaguely recognizes the bat-like darkmantle, but the others horrors on display are a mystery.
Christoph leads the way into this room, and the others follow close behind. The ornate ancient Osirian sarcophagus standing at the western wall catches the Speaker's eye as he passes the center of the room, and he wonders: did it just move?
Suddenly, the sarcophagus swings open! The ornate slab slams the floor with a loud bang. Wrapped from head to toe in ancient strips of moldering linen, a humanoid creature moves forth with a shuffling gait. With a dry rattling groan, it reaches for the Speaker's neck...
Mummies are created through a rather lengthy and gruesome embalming process, during which all of the body’s major organs are removed and replaced with dried herbs and flowers. After this process, the flesh is anointed with sacred oils and wrapped in purified linens. The creator then finishes the ritual with a create undead spell.
Although most mummies are created merely as guardians and remain loyal to their charge until their destruction, certain powerful mummies have much more free will. The majority are at least 10th-level clerics, and are often kings or pharaohs who have called upon dark gods or sinister necromancers to bind their souls to their bodies after death—usually as a means to extend their rule beyond the grave, but at times simply to escape what they fear will be an eternity of torment in their own afterlife.
Easily the most feared ability of mummies is their notorious curse: mummy rot. Both a disease and a curse, this affliction proves exceptionally difficult to cure, even for accomplished healers. Part of this blight’s infamy comes from the specifics of its symptoms. While many mummies cause a curse that gradually withers away its victims till nothing but desert sand remains, the affliction itself proves highly variable and unique to many atypical individuals. In each case, the effects prove the same, but the symptoms can be wildly distinctive.
Eyes flickering around the room, he has only the time to think did it just move? as the sarcophagus at the far end of the room bursts open. The icy fear, always lurking in the back of his mind, claws its way to the surface and threatens to render him helpless before the moldering moaning abomination shambling towards him. But years of training kick in, and with a quick prayer to Pharasma, he draws, nocks, and looses twice with preternatural speed. Stepping back, he cautions his companions in a voice tight with suppressed fear, "This creature is an undead known as a mummy. There's a slim chance it possesses magic but it certainly carries a tainting disease. Try not to let it touch you."
"What a creep," Ali mutters as the companions move from room to room. Her expressive face contorts with such disgust at certain points, it's priceless to behold.
"We skipped a lot of this when we were here last," she adds. "We were in a hurry to save lives. I... truly wish we could have skipped it again."
Inside the current room of oddities, she recognizes the north door. "We rushed to the door over there. It leads to a pa-OH MY GODS!!"
Frightened mid-sentence by the slam and the ancient mummy's sudden appearance, Aliseya throws her hands up involuntarily, nearly smacking Rhia and Christoph who flank her with her heavy satchel and staff, respectively.
Though she shrugs off the fear, it takes her a moment to process what's going on...
"Oh bother," Sookie remarks as she turns to point her long spear at yet another dreary threat.
Two of the Speaker's arrows fly before the ancient Osirion shuffles its first step. Though one sinks deep into its chest, the mummy barely seems to notice. Almost simultaneously, Zelda springs beside the creature, her blade cutting a bandaged rib. Disturbingly, it seems equally unphased by the cut.
Stepping forward, it growls at the archer. From its blackened rotting mouth, he is first assaulted by a most malodorous breath, which bears the stench of very old death. A bandaged hand claws at Christoph with preternatural speed, bruising his left upper arm. He feels a deathly sensation begin to come over him...
Calling upon the protection of her ancestors, Rhia studies the creature as a shield of swirling spirits manifests around her.
Barely batting an eyelash at the frightful monster, the seasoned hunter of the undead, shifts into a fighting stance as ghostly motes of spirit energy coalesce into the form of an ornate antique spear in her hands.
The rotting stench of decay as the creature attacks, and it's brusing strike do not compare to feeling of the grave washing over him. "My Lady of Graves does not call me today, fiend." Cornered, and with little other option as he is struck for what will likely not be the last time, Christoph draws his morningstar, chanting a prayer, and bashes the creature threatening him with desperate fury.
"What kind of corpse is that? How can it move when it's all wrapped up?" Nymph asks as she cracks her fingers, causing them to near instinctively ignite into bale flame as she steps up towards the mummy.
Sookie steps in and takes a stab at the mummy
Through the power of his faith, the Speaker resists the ancient Osiriani abomination's foul disease. As the mummy snarls at Christoph's defiance, it is simultaneously stabbed where its kidney would be by one of Zelda's blades, bashed upside its head by Christoph's morningstar, set alight by Naught's flaming claws, and stabbed in the gut by Sookie's longspear.
The mummy is clearly taking a good beating. Yet, it struggles on to take down its foes...
It now swings with unnatural speed at the fire-starter Naught, smacking her across the face and drawing blood. Naught feels an aura of death begin to envelope her very essence...
...and then, quite suddenly, the sarcophagus at the other end of the room suddenly, and quite bizarrely, sprouts tentacles and springs into action! It opens up... revealing a most unexpected sight. Instead of another mummy inside, the sarcophagus itself appears to have a great mouth, filled with a set of large and jagged teeth. One of its slimy wet tentacles strikes forth at its nearest prey: Rhia! Too swift even for her spiritual ancestors to shield her from, the tentacle wraps around her abdomen, and it begins to squeeze...
Mimics are thought to be the result of an alchemist’s attempt to grant life to an inanimate object through the application of an eldritch reagent, the recipe for which is long lost. Over time, these strange but clever creatures have learned the ability to transform themselves into simulacra of man-made objects, particularly in locations that have infrequent traffic by small numbers of creatures, thus increasing their odds of successfully attacking their victims.
Though mimics are not inherently evil, some sages believe that mimics attack humans and other intelligent creatures for sport rather than merely for sustenance. The desire to completely fool others is thought to be a part of their being, and their surprise attacks against others are a culmination of those desires.
A typical mimic has a volume of 150 cubic feet (5 feet by 5 feet by 6 feet) and weighs about 900 pounds. Legends and tales speak of mimics of much greater sizes, with the ability to assume the form of houses, ships, or entire dungeon complexes that they festoon with treasure (both real and false) to lure unsuspecting food within.
Mimic's Damage: 0
"Rhia! Crapcrapcrap!" Naught lets out as she keeps hacking at the mummy in front of her.
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The momentary soul sickness dissipates from the resilient firestarter. When she rips into the bandaged bogey once more, her flames swiftly engulf the old moldy linens. It falls to one knee and, with one final groan of ancient anguish, falls prone to the ground.
Shaking his head grimly, Christoph grits his teeth as Naught is struck. At the sudden burst of sound behind him, he spares a glance over his shoulder to see a thing of maw and tentacles grappling with the other sane one in the party. Cursing, he turns to try to end the current threat, but finds that Naught has done the job in a fiery fury. He steps to clear his sight, dropping his mace with a clatter to the floor. He draws two arrows and sends one and then the other into body of the thing. "A mimic. Of course there's a mimic in here..."
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Stunned by the sudden onslaught, Aliseya stares blankly at the horrifying ancient one. As its form falls, its wrappings feeding the flames set by Naught, her eyes glow blood red in the fire light...
Turning to see Rhia caught by the animate sarcophagus, she calmly places her palm on Naught's upper back. Violet effervescence emanates from her hand to her love, and Naught feels... divinely guided.
Yet as she does so, horrifying syllables come forth from her mouth. Syllables that all within earshot feel inexplicable dread in their deepest core.
Without skipping a beat, Sookie, in one swift maneuver, swiftly turns completely around and thrusts at the creature with her spear.
The animated and betentacled sarcophagus winces as Christoph's two arrows strike it hard. Though Zelda gives quite the aerial performance as she tumbles overhead effortlessly to flank it, its thick hide deflects her rapier's thrust. Even Sookie's spear fails to make purchase, gliding off its thick... "natural" (?) armor.
To her great dismay, the ghost whisperer finds herself unable to maneuver whatsoever as a slimy coating adheres to her body from within the bizarre creature's maw. With the mummy down and finding itself surrounded by more threats than it cares to deal with, it makes a desperate, albeit rather slow, dash for the doorway from whence you came... with Rhia still in its "mouth." As it makes its getaway, the acrobat and the warrior-therapist both make opportunistic strikes, with Zelda's blade making purchase this time.
The hungry creature chews its "food," crushing Rhia, as it makes its way out of the room and halfway into the foyer. It heads for the museum's front door, where the dreaded rope bridge and bits of kindling ashen cinders remain of the great flying creature. Though the treacherous bridge still stands, the thought of a bulky walking sarcophagus with tentacles on that bridge only amplifies the party's concern for Rhia's welfare...
Mummy's Damage: DEAD
Mimic's Damage: -34
"Hey come back here with Rhia!" Naught says as she scurries after the fleeing mimic.
With a shriek of agony as the creature gnaws on her flesh, Rhia reaches across the veil, channeling the fury of her ancestors in a torrent of raging souls, a swarm of ghostly images striking at the monstrosity.
Christoph hesitates, unsure if he'll wound his new companion if he keeps shooting as his shots finds purchase. The creature's mad dash towards the rickety bridge makes his course of action clear and he steps to track the creature as he nocks, draws, looses.
Sookie steps up and takes a mighty stab at the mimic from over Zelda's shoulder.
With uncharacteristic calm, red-eyed Yewanda turns to peer over Zelda's shoulder at the fleeing mimic. Raising both withered claw-like hands out and above her hips, a barely perceptible force manifests in her palms as her wretched speech impels waves of deep unease.
"KUVNDRrrr UZDH! F'PTK Y'KRVA... rrrRAATH!!!"
As the sudden fury of her dark growling reaches a high pitched crescendo, she forcefully thrusts her palms forward towards the mimic. Zelda feels the air shudder, her hair engulfed by a swift breeze, as she pulls her sword free from the creature... as a barely perceptible pair of forces shoot past her, striking the mimic with such an impact, it's as if a giant just smacked it.
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The fleeing creature first begins to learn its fatal lesson as it finds itself engulfed by the ethereal ancestors of the ghost whisperer. Their anguished fury rips fresh wounds.
Then, another hit from one of Christoph's arrows penetrates deeply, splintering its hold on Rhia as it partially coughs her up along with something... gooey, and quite disgusting.
With Rhia beginning to reemerge from out of the creature's mouth, the paladin then pierces the creature's darkest secrets with her therapeutic spear. The pain is enough to bring back to the surface repressed memories of its tragic early life as a tiny crate pickpocket in a seedy part of its hometown dungeon.
Yet before it can linger on its failures and lost opportunities for a better life, the mimic feels itself lifted off the ground by a gale force wind, and slammed smack into the hard wall. Its wood-like outer body splinters and cracks apart. Its gooey innards splatter upon the wall behind it. The slimy coating solidifies into a hard glue, holding its shattered remains in place on the wall. Its tentacles shudder one final time, and then go limp.
And poor Rhia, feeling every hard thump, is taken for the ride along with it. Bruised, battered, bloodied, besplintered, and slimed, she remains partially submerged in the uniquely deplorable carcass. And... she's stuck there, hanging upon the wall right there with it, and partially inside it.
”Oh bother....” Naught lets out before quickly scurrying over to Rhia and what remains of the mimic in order to cut her free from the mess.
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Christoph gapes in alarm at the sudden gale summoned by the now withered-looking young woman. It's one thing to know... another to see. Lady of Graves grant us our allotted time. Unsure what to do, he settles for the practical as he hustles to help the battered Rhia. Not wanting to move her if she's badly injured, he looks her over with a professional's eye as she hangs suspended.
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Haggard Yewanda lets out one last wretched shriek as her haggish form shudders.
"GR'PGOG! Y'MRR JST RRG...rrrAAAAAAH!!!"
Her face forcibly softens, reverting to Aliseya as she imposes her will once more. One youthful hand grips her one remaining haggish claw, as if choking the hag out of it.
"GO AWAY YOU F B!!!" she cries. And as her claw softens back to a youthful hand, Aliseya is returned fully at last.
With an exhausted sigh, she falls to her knees and plops into a tired seated pose on the floor, catching her breath.
”Craaaaaap, be right with you my love. Stupid sticky monster.” Naught frantically calls out as she continues to cut Rhia free.