Thom's eyes snap towards their destination, and he marches forward to the odd cadence set by his heavy footsteps and the rattles, bangs, and creaks of his gear.
Thom stops and looks over at Turook, ”It’s not our proselytizing that has Nebbin uncomfortable, Turook. It’s yours.”
"So you speak for him, as well as the gods?" Turook replies sardonically. "If you can't see the folly in presuming divine appointment, that's your problem. Let him make up his own mind."
Having said his piece, he takes up his bow and rushes forward to scout again.
Nebbin, having no idea at this point if the gods are trying to help him or kill him with demons and devils, hefts his hammer and follows Saoirse's lead toward the chapel.
The ninety feet flight of stairs, narrow enough to warrant single file, offers little cover. Nothing seems to stir, even with the debate on faith and philosophy raging. The first thing you scout is the gates to a small courtyard which are smashed and broken with tall grass growing amid the rubble. Two main buildings stand side by side to the east, separated by a single alleyway. The smaller structure appears to be a stable, while the other is much larger with several doors and stained-glass windows, apparently a chapel judging by the pious statues along its rooftop.
Well-gnawed human bones litter the debris along the ground.
"Let us check the stable first. It should be faster to check, and if we find fresh horses we know the chapel is occupied."
"Hey, I think I saw one of those gargoyles blink!" Nebbin exclaims as he gets ready to follow Lucius' suggestion to check the stable.
Lucius eyes the statues warily after Nebbin's warning. He invokes a short prayer.
Thom pauses to look up at the gargoyles.
Then he cuts his eyes over to Turook, ”Any reason we shouldn’t just open fire from here?” He shrugs, ”I don’t know much about gargoyles.”
"Good eye, Nebbin. They were waiting to ambush us, and add to this collection of bones." He nudges the gnawed bones that litter the ground with his toe.
He outstretches a hand. "Stand ready." he says, before shouting for hellfire in Infernal.
A wave of nervousness runs through Nebbin, the customary nausea that precedes a fight settling in his stomach, and lifts his hammer.
"Likely just nerves, Nebbin." Turook says, dismissively. Then he looks again, as Lucius sends a ray of blistering light at one of them.
The middle gargoyle takes flight, sudden animation seeming so odd from stony creatures that so resemble statues.
Thom digs deep into his power, pushing divine protection onto himself and his teammates.
AC 18, touch 12, flat-footed 16 (-2 to all when raging), DR: 2/-, Cold resist: 1
Fort +6, Ref +4, Will +2 (+2 to Fort and Will when raging)
CMD 17
HP 54 (64 when raging)
Rage: 0/14; Mythic power: 0/5 (1d6+1 surge); Legendary power: 0/2 (1d6+1)
Effects:
Nebbin edges in front of Saoirse, between the young woman and the monsters, and sets his feet, hefting his hammer. He prepares to swing at anything that comes close.
Turook snaps off a wild shot at the alighted gargoyle, then moves into a defensive position near Lucius.
If it is possible to catch two or more of the gargoyles in a 10-foot radius (So I guess 20 feet across overall), Lucius will try to catch them with a glitterdust.
If they've scattered by his next turn, he'll activate his Tendralev's scale to get a shield.
Nebbin's hammer raises to the ready as Turook's arrows skitters on stone. Lucius' strange words and movements cause the air to suddenly sparkle around two of the gargoyles, and they begin to immediately paw at their eyes. Saoirse looks between Nebbin and the gargoyles and also draws Radiance into a defensive posture.
The gargoyle that can still see swoops towards Lucius, but Nebbin's ready hammer and Saoirse's sword both strike mighty blows into it. Between the two of them, the gargoyle falls to the ground, motionless. The other two seem unaware of what happened to the other, but they continue to paw at their eyes as they land on the ground.
Lucius strides forward toward the grounded gargoyles, tugging his mace free of the loop that holds it at his waist.
Thom steps up next to the Asmodean, slamming his blade down on the same blind gargoyle.
AC 18, touch 12, flat-footed 16 (-2 to all when raging), DR: 2/-, Cold resist: 1
Fort +6, Ref +4, Will +2 (+2 to Fort and Will when raging)
CMD 17
HP 54 (64 when raging)
Rage: 0/14; Mythic power: 0/5 (1d6+1 surge); Legendary power: 0/2 (1d6+1)
Effects: Protection from evil {1/10}
Nebbin follows Lucius, rushing toward the nearest gargoyle and again slamming his hammer into it, again hearing bone crack beneath the blow.
Saoirse sets Radiance back into position as she rushes forward wanting to make quick work of the gargoyles, shifting her sword into a downward stab as she lets her sword sink into the monster.
Turook takes an opportune shot at one of the twitching creatures, as well.
Between your combined might, the remaining two gargoyles shatter apart. The area is ringingly quiet after the brief but intense moments of action.
Continuing on towards the stable you detect the sharp tang of musty, ecaying straw filling the large stable. Its easternmost wall has collapsed into a steep pile of broken beams and rocks that blocks the way to the other side. A large mound of discarded weaponry lies amid the rubble.
Nebbin looks around.
"People don't usually keep their weapons in the barns, right? This is probably bad..."
”Wouldn’t think so,” rasps Thom, ”but not much about this screams ‘normal’ to me.” He nods to the building directly in front of them . ”Try that one first?”
As he waits for a response, his hound’s mask swings to the ground, his dark eyes searching for any useful foot prints or tracks.
Thom's work draws Turook's attention, who eyes the ground on which the scarred oracle stands.
The mound of weapons lying discarded are mostly broken beyond repair. A few seem to have survived. A masterwork battleaxe, +1 longsword, 3 cold iron daggers, and a +1 cold iron longspear.
The only tracks you see are from the gargoyles you just destroyed, oddly.
"These would probably be good for the army, right? We should bring them back when we're done," Nebbin helpfully opines as he's informed about the magical nature of several of the weapons.
"So should we avoid that one then?" Nebbin asks nervously when someone informs him of the magic building.
Lucius tucks one of the cold-iron daggers into his belt alongside the 'cleaver' taken from the mongrelfolk warrens. He also takes a moment to ensure that his crossbow is nocked and loaded with a cold-iron bolt.
"I did not sense any minds nearby, besides those of the living gargoyles. Still, it is possible that these stone walls are thick enough to hide an interloper, or ambushers without minds at all."
Thom sheaths his longsword and picks up the longspear. "Could be useful."
He looks to the door to their south, "That one next?"
Lucius tucks one of the cold-iron daggers into his belt ...
Turook likewise takes one of the daggers, and packs away any other unclaimed better-quality weapons in his quiver.
Weapons collected, Turook moves carefully to the main building, keeping a sharp eye out for trouble.
Seeing the others taking the daggers, Nebbin picks up one and tucks it into a loop on his belt.
Saoirse keeps an eye out as the rest of the group searches through the pile of weapons, letting her eyesight roll back and unfocus, a pale glow shifting over each iris as she senses outward for any nearby malevolent auras. "Let us move."
Saoirse shifts over to the south door, gripping Radiance tightly as she keeps up her scanning.
Nebbin follows Turook toward the main building, keeping an eye out for more gargoyles.
The vaulted ceiling of this massive sanctuary reaches nearly thirty feet overhead. Smashed stained-glass windows stretch in narrow bands above the doors. Four angelic statues occupy each corner of the room, though their faces and wings are cracked and broken almost beyond recognition. The walls are covered with disturbing shapes and runes that have been scratched into the stone. An altar, befouled with grime and filth, sits against the southern wall.
"It looks like someone moved the altar!" Nebbin exclaims, though the big man looks sad at all the damage in the chapel.
I wonder if we have time to clean it a little bit at least?
Lucius peers at the odd runes. Could be a magical trap of some kind...or just the scrawled markings of a madman.
Lucius will cast detect magic to see if there is a deeper arcane meaning to the markings.
No magic aura to the markings...good. But there is an aura. The altar? No. It's muted. Something within?
Then Nebbin chimes in about the altar being mobile. Ah! Something hidden under the altar.
"There is some powerful magic emanating from beneath that stone. We should see what it is hiding, but be cautious, Nebbin."
Turook moves forward to give the blacksmith a hand with the altar.
Turook sweeps the area for traps but doesn't find any. He walks past one of the statues and....nothing happens.
Nebbin steps forward, putting down his hammer as he nears the altar, and leans down to push the massive block. He grunts as it doesn't move easily and pushes again, putting more of his strength into it.
Starting to puff and sweat beginning to drip down his face, he glances sheepishly at Soairse and redoubles his effort.
Saoirse gives a faint smile at Nebbin before sheathing Radiance and helping him with the altar's block. Muscles bunching along her arms as she helps Nebbin lift the block, shifting the stone over and her eyes look over the cache inside with surprise. "This... is a lot of potions, we'll have to bring some of the army up to gather all of this once we clear the buildings."
Thom nods appreciatively, "That should be useful."
When Saoirse mentions clearing the buildings, his hound's mask swings to encompass the rest of the complex. Then he moves to do just that.
"Ha! Not one strong aura, but countless tiny ones. Good find, Nebbin."
Three stone tables stand in this room, and their wooden benches lie broken and half-rotten around them. Leather straps with restraints stretch across their surface, buckled tightly in place. Nearby, a knotted rope descends through a tiny hole in the ceiling.
"Huh. What do you think this room was for? I don't know why they'd have needed ropes on the tables..."
Nebbin looks around, baffled.
”I don’t think I want to know,” Thom rasps as he looks at the knotted rope hanging from the ceiling. ”What was this place again?”
Despite his curiosity, he waits for the more perceptive of the group to head in first.