"Can't say I'm great but I'm OK. A shower does sound good though"
As he starts to pull himself to his feet he adds
"Maybe we should barricade ourselves in somewhere"
once standing he stretches and takes in a deep breath which proves to be a very bad idea. The lingering stench of the ghoulds are to much for him and he finds himself on his knees again losing the remainder of what was in his stomach.
And in a tired voice "Damn waste of food"
It seems to like you Cats. Why don't you talk to it. While burning this incense, we can communicate with it telepathically. This incense is supposed to allow communication, even if we don't speak the dog's language.
Before naming it Salvation, why don't you ask it what it's name really is?
Moderate wind halves the area of the smoke. Strong wind disperses the incense, rendering it ineffective as long as the wind continues. A single block of incense of open thoughts burns for 1 hour. It can be extinguished and relit, but each use consumes at least 10 minutes of its remaining duration.
"It is a very bad idea to try and sleep anywhere except The Sanctuary. Spending even one night at the mercies of the Tatterman and his ghoul transforming nightmares could spell our doom.
I am positive that our quarry is above. The doctor said so. Let us push on to the tower and destroy it. Then look to get back to the Sanctuary by breaking this glass. ".
Pointing to the glass windows in the tower room.
I know a little bit about what we will fight. "
He extinguishes the incense after 10 minutes.
He also takes off the heavy splintmail armor, expecting the need to climb.
"anyone have rope? I don't like climbing, and would normally not do it. But I am out of options. "
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* * *
"It is a very bad idea to try and sleep anywhere except The Sanctuary. Spending even one night at the mercies of the Tatterman and his ghoul transforming nightmares could spell our doom. I am positive that our quarry is above. The doctor said so. Let us push on to the tower and destroy it. Then look to get back to the Sanctuary by breaking this glass. "
Cats shakes his head at Butterfly, it's clear that if the bald man wants to continue, he'll continue without Cats and his brave companion, Salvation.
"And if you want to get back to the Sanctuary, we can just go up and over the walls to the other courtyard now that its stopped raining acid. I don't think its far away and probably a bit safer than going back the way we came. But moreso, resting here will be fine. We have a spot to get clean and I'm tired."
The Mariner pulls out some strong rope and a grappling hook he found in the boiler room, hanging it to Brother.
"Im fine to sleep here" looking around at the vicera. "And are we really ready to seige the upper floors in our condition?" Far from full HP
His gaze then wanders over to the draped body of the woman, lingering his thought for a morose moment, letting it sink it. When Fearless brings over the magical shield, he nods in acceptance. But then takes it as a sign, as all sailors takes signs seriously, he kneels down at the draped cloth drenched in flesh blood and tears a wad off. Starting on the edge of the metal shield, he draws a large 'W' across. Standing up, hefting it and showing the others, "Watchmen."
"We're gonna kill that son of a b~*~#. Your call Brother - assault or rest."
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As the Watchmen prepare to assault the tower and destroy the oneirogen rumored to reside there, Brother Butterfly shares what he knows of them.
Oneirogens were once normal mortals who have suffered a rare but terrible curse. Within them lies a sliver-sized tear between planes, a crack hardly larger than a pinprick that destroys everything they once were in an endless deluge of planar power. Created by magical mistakes and otherworldly conjunctions, oneirogens wander in a haze as living husks whose grip on any reality has been erased. What little remains of their minds is bent on self-preservation, even as they are locked at the center of storms of strange powers endlessly streaming from their mouths and nostrils. The death of their personalities might be a mercy, but what lingers on are primal beings, slaves of uncontrolled planar might.
While the portal trapped within an oneirogen might connect to any plane of existence, it most commonly provides a path to the Dimension of Dreams. As mortal minds already drift toward that realm, breaches between the waking and unconscious worlds might occur when potent magics attempt to tamper with the boundaries of dream.
Many oneirogens are linked to the Dimension of Dreams—they spew a sour, yellow fog. Creatures that enter this fog often fall into a deep sleep. Additionally, they do not receive natural healing from resting for the next 24 hours.
The creature can attempt another Will save every round to wake up and can be woken up as if it had been affected by the spell sleep.
Brother Butterfly believes that Doctor Losandro may have suffered from a corrupted and incomplete form of the oneirogen curse.
Any last preparations?
out of juice and spells. Only true strike, which is domain. I don't think I can spontaneously cast it as a cure.
Do we have a wisdom enhancing potion. Someone should take one to help on will saves.
Fearless, take one of the thunder stones so we can wake people up with it. BB grabs the other.
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As the Watchmen prepare to assault the tower and destroy the oneirogen rumored to reside there, Brother Butterfly shares what he knows of them. Any last preparations?
Uh, I think we are still discussing whether to go up now or after a rest.
Cats pats Salvation on the head. And my trusty Watchdog.
He still looks forward to a rest, seeing the condition his companions are in.
Fearless has been out of anything usable for quite a while hehe.
Fearless grabs ahold of the Thunderstone and places it in his pocket. "You sure about this Shapeshifter?" The little halfling's eyes sag from exhaustion as they have gone farther in this day along than in the past week through the asylum.
Fearless grabs his crossbow, ready to follow into the tower.
Over his shoulder Pinkie winks at Fearless and in a soft voice says
"You just keep their heads down with those bolts and we do the rest"
Laughing maniacally "Remember there are three of us in here"
looking around at everyone and in a tone your more use to "Yea thats right I'm tired and loosing it so lets get this done so they stop taking over"
With the armor stripped from his body and the shield on the ground, everyone can clearly see the horrendous damage the ghoul did to his body. BB is walking on grit alone.
He places a rope through his pack and armor so he can haul it up once he gets to the stable landing.
He takes the grappling hook and gets it firmly set in place. Using it to help climb.
climb: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11
Trying to pull himself up the rope, he just doesn't have the strength of will to do it anymore. With the others looking to rest, and his body needing time to tend to his gashes, he stops straining against gravity.
Okay, you are right. Let us all rest and recoup. Is there a way to get back to The Sanctuary ?
I really don't want to sleep and have Tatterman nightmares. If I turn into a ghoul , I'm killing all of you as revenge!
Any ideas on getting back to the Sanctuary? If not, let's set up camp and I'll try and work on my wounds and treat some of the ghoul blotches Mariner and Pinkie have.
health treat deadly wounds+ healers kit: 1d20 + 11 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 11 + 2 = 32
treat disease mariner: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (9) + 11 = 20
treat disease pinkie: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (13) + 11 = 24
BB gains 7 HP's
Cats cross his arms, looks down at Salvation, then up at Brother Butterfly.
"Why can't we stay here? What are you cattlespotting worried about?" Cats asks. "And as I just explained, we'll have to go over up to the roof and over to the little courtyard to get back...I'm sure it will be easy, but it's the fastest way."
"I give you applause for endless enthusiasm Brother but your spleen is hanging out your side." the Mariner comments as Brother dangles on the rope. "What's your fear about the dreaming? We are not any safer here from it than we are in the sanctuary, are we?" Are we?
"This room is secure and looks defendable. We got hot showers and water. You and I definitely need the rest. Unless there's an overriding reason, I'm dumping it here." he unstraps the gear into a pile.
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Fearless has a renewed excitement about him. Are we actually going to rest?"
Seeing Mariner throw down his pack into a corner Fearless does the same and quickly begins to snore as he hadn't realized how exhausted he had been all this time. He nuzzles his head into the comfy sack full of open space and closes his eyes. "Wake me when it is my turn to watch Shapeshifter."
Though he snores he sleeps uneasily as every noise stirs the halfling. In his own shattered mind he still feels as if the entire group is out to kill him. more than once he jerks awake just to find the others watching their postand nowhere near him.
Cats takes a good shower before starting his watch, getting clean while others prepare for bet. He eats a bit of his remaining rations, sharing what he can with Salvation, the best
cat dog around.
"You guys rest. I'm good at keeping watch, you'll see."
Cats, being a tireless Watchman (along with his loyal super dog, Salvation), will, of course, be careful to watch for sleeping distress.
"You're a good cat, aren't you, Salvation? Who's a good cat?" Cats boops Salvation on the nose. "You are! You're a good cat."
Will Save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6 +2 if Fear
Fearless stirs restlessly all night. His paranoia takes root even in his dreams as he has trouble sleeping, lying awake more often than when his eyes are closed.
They are all trying to kill me. Just waiting til I fall asleep. Not going to happen. Should I kill them first?
He shuffles a bit as he rolls over, gripping his silver dagger close to his chest.
Pinkie and Cats keep watch on their sleeping companions. This section of the asylum seems to have been cleared of ghouls and nothing disturbs them in the waking world. Cats even has a few moments of almost normal as he plays with Salvation, who turns out to be pretty well trained for a mutt. He fetches, sits up, shakes hands (or paws), and begs extremely well.
However, nightmares haunt the dreams of the sleeping. Familiar visions of the ruined city, endless labyrinths of streets, and the mists of the Tatterman always close on their heels.
However, you don't feel the same. Your skin feels loose, like you could reshape it.
You wake in the asylum to Pinkie shaking you awake.
You feel suddenly famished, and Fearless looks tasty.
You stumble to the ground and the mists of the Tatterman envelope you, obscuring all sight beyond a few feet. A gravelly voice chuckles. "There will be no escape this time. We will peel back your skin and see what lies beneath. See what you truly are, or wish to be."
Hands reach from the mists, grabbing...
Brother Butterfly wakes with a start, his dream interrupted before anyone notices distress. The Mariner begins choking and sputtering, and it takes some shaking by Pinkie before he comes around.
Fearless screams in his sleep soon after and it takes shaking and slapping to finally wake him.
Brother Butterfly drags himself awake for his turn on watch. Muttering at how dangerous all this is. Attempting to be under his breath, but his words travel farther and louder than he intends. Most of those words are ," How he deserves better. He's elite. He's got powers. More powers than even they have seen!
Climbing that dang rope. Totally stupid on his part. Let these yahoo's go into that tower. "
He likes to draw when he's in this state of mind. So, he sets himself up to watch over everyone - but hides the easil.
And he begins to draw. Rough outlines at first but a frenzied enthusiasm showing signs he's really inspired. Watching Fearless as he draws, and occasionally switching attention to Pinkie - but then back to Fearless. He pulls out his medical bag and stares at that for 10-15 minutes.
When he's done, he inspects it. Happy. Very happy.
On a medical bed unconscious is Fearless - one eye open and another eye shut. The Open Eye has a strangely large pupil.
Near the medical bed with his healers bag contents spread out is Brother Butterfly. Medical mask and all adorning his sweaty bald head - holding a few discarded medical wastes in one hand and the symbol of something other than the Desnan Butterfly on his forearm.
The Mariner wipes the drool from this mouth, "Hm?! Huh- Thanks. Was I snoring?" The Mariner plops back down on his make shift bed pile in the shadows but suddenly finds himself wide eyed awake with a grumbling stomach. Spotting Fearless' toes poking out, stirring some curiosity, the Mariner rolls over for a closer look.
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Cats runs over to Fearless to stop his fitful sleep (because that's what a good Watchcat does).
He slaps Fearless once, then again.
"Wake up, you! What's wrong with you?" Cats looks at Salvation for inspiration of what to do to help Fearless.
Cats gets on his knees and begins to lick Fearless' face.
"Cat up!" *lick* "Cat up!" *lick* *lick* *lick*
Fearless leaps to his feet. Fear, panic and desperation are all in his eyes as he juts the silver dagger he had been gripping in his hands up to Cats' throat.
Drops of blood splat against the stone floor.
A small pool forms. One would assume that Fearless slit Cats' throat but with a closer look you notice that Adalgrim's grip on the dagger has been so tight that it is splitting the skin on his hands.
His hand shakes as his eyes dart left and right about the room. He takes a small step back, gripping the dagger in both hands. A wild look in his eye as sweat pools on his forehead, soaking his cloak below.
"YOU WANT TO KILL ME? ME! YOU WANT MY SKIN? Well come and GET IT!" He screams as he slashes the dagger through the air to keep everyone at bay.
Cats stops his licking and stares at Fearless, a perplexed look on his face.
"Oh, you're awake! Good! Good!" Cats puts away his tongue and smiles at Fearless. "Were you have a bad dream? You tasted like you were having a bad cat."
Perhaps the nightmares are finally getting to them, or perhaps the madness among them has grown. Whatever the cause, something is wrong among the Watchmen.
A low growl rises from the mutt, Salvation. His hackles are up and his eyes stare at Fearless.
Fearless: 1d20 ⇒ 1
Cats: 1d20 ⇒ 16
Pinkie: 1d20 ⇒ 20
Butterfly: 1d20 ⇒ 18
Mariner: 1d20 ⇒ 17
Fearless has broken out into a heavy sweat, his skin clammy and pale. As you watch, his eyes begin to grow pale, the color slowly draining from them. His fingers clenching the dagger become knobby and rough, the fingernails turning black and elongating.
Rising to his feet, the paints spill a bit on the ground. The easil turning over and revealing a complex painting.
Did I not say it was dangerous to sleep here? Now I may not get to really work on my art. A perfectly good muse about to become a pulp of flesh.
He pulls out his mace. Swing swift and true
cast true strike
Round 1, Init 16
Cats recoils from Fearless, scooping up his brave wonderdog, Salvation, and moving away from
Not sure the map is updated, but Cats is moving 25' away from Soulless.
"You all look at me like I am the CRAZY ONE?" He steps forward and slashes the dagger at Mariner. "Stay away from me I said."
Mwk Silver dagger; fight defensively: 1d20 + 7 - 4 ⇒ (8) + 7 - 4 = 11
Damage: 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2
"Shapeshifters goal all along. Have you all turn on me huh. First the Mariner turns then who? Who is next?"
Have they all turning? What is happening. I was right. They all want me dead....
Pinkie slowly rises to his feet instinctively reaching for Red Destiny but pulls out the Sap he picked up not sure if is is quite at the point where he can dispatch one of his companions turned into a ghoul or not.
::quietly::"OK put the knife down. Nobody wants to hurt you....I know, stay away from the pointy end.
as he starts to circle the little guy looking for an opening.
"Nobody wants to hurt me?" Fearless says baffled as his dagger drops slightly.
He raises his other hand and points at Mariner. "Look at him turning on all of us, literally, and you care about me trying to survive?"
Seeing the others circle Fearless' mind protects itself.
His hand up in defense, "What are you talking about Fearless? I didn't do anything to ya while you was sleeping. I was just making sure you were tucked in. Look at your hands, it's you who is looking strange, you're turning all ripe-"
Pausing for his words to sink in, "-and delicious!" @1:26
Rage,Grapple: 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 6 + 2 = 20
Brother Butterfly advances, seeing that his height gives him a nice reach advantage. When The Mariner makes his move and distracts Fearless slightly- he strikes. Looking to hurt but not kill, he takes some off the precise blow.
nonlethal true strike.: 1d20 + 20 - 4 ⇒ (2) + 20 - 4 = 18
damage: 1d8 ⇒ 4
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Fearless takes a swipe at the Mariner, but his attack is cautious and completely misses.
The Mariner lunges forward and wraps up Fearless in a bear hug that lifts him from the ground. Up close, the smell of the old man of awful... and familiar.
With the halfling restrained Pinkie and Brother Butterfly move in and begin pummeling him with the blunt side of their weapons.
Cats drops Salvation to ready his bow and the dog immediately bounds across the room and bites Fearless.
Bite on Fearless AC 16: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Fearless (19/22 -18 nonlethal) *grappled, mage armor
Mariner (21-raging@30/40-raging@49) *grappling, twice diseased -2 Dex, -1 Con (1 save)
Pinkie (27/27) *diseased
Butterfly (8/26) *twice diseased -2 Dex, (1 save)
Brother anything you can do ?
"No, nothing more can be done for him. It's irreversible.We just need to finish the job. We don't even need to bury a grave. We will just leave his body along with the rest of these ghouls. "
With those words, he takes a full strength and damaging swing.
mace attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
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Fearless struggles against the Mariners tight grip. "Dammit you fools....
Break Grapple: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20
He feels the sap crack against his head as his mind rings. A migraine begins to form. "Mariner is turning. Can't you smell him?" He pleads one final time to help before his eyes roll back into his head.
"Mariner is turning. Can't you smell him?"
Cats licks his lips as if finally tasting the full flavor of the halfling. "You know, can't blame Salvation for wanting to bite you," Cats licks his lips again. "Maybe he and Mariner are right..."
Cats fires his bow.
1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 6 + 1 = 17 to hit;
1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 damage.
"Maybe you are good to eat."