Captain Roslyn nods to Dalton at his well-wishing, and then the party departs, moving as quickly as they can uphill through the crowd-choked and rain-slicked streets.
Progress is slow as frightened, desperate Carrion Hill folk shove their way past one another and the investigators alike in their effort to escape to safer environs. It takes twice as long as before to get to Crown Manor, and the Crow guards at the gates are having quite the time keeping a crowd of angry locals from forcing their way inside. It is dreadfully clear that the situation in this city is degenerating quickly into mass panic.
Making their way inside with some difficulty, the investigators find puddles of rainwater forming underneath them as they make their way into the foyer. In the Great Hall ahead, Mayor Heggry enters hurriedly, attended by his bodyguard. "Drinks, man, drinks!" he utters breathlessly, sending one of the attendants standing about into the kitchen. "And warm stew! It's a proper downpour out there." A hopeful look in his eyes, Mayor Heggry approaches the party. "Please, what's the situation out there? I'm hearing strange, conflicting reports, and even locked up in here, I can tell that we've run out of time as far as keeping these attacks on the hush-hush goes."
He listens closely within the Hall, keenly aware that the beast's attack is eminent.
"A group of heretics have called forth a demon. Our sources and recent events confirm that the demon is seeking these very same summoners to consume. Perhaps retribution for disturbing its slumber." Bacarov doffs his coat and hat and steps closely to the mayor and whispers. "Marshan was the first, his home destroyed and his body broken. Next were Rupman Myre's vats. He wasn't there because we dragged the paranoid heretic here. You need only guess as to the beast's next target. Where is the summoner of the dead? Where is Rupman Myre? Turn him over to me now. Let the Scales of Justice put him to proper questioning." He steps back and resumes a normal tone of voice, his eyes glowing with dark blue energies.
"Or do you wish to continue squeezing benefits from your association to one such as him?" He grinds his teeth at the thought this supposed leader of the people would allow Myre's existence to continue. "Where is he?"
Marsh takes one of the offered bowls of stew and drinks it up while Sebastian finishes his piece.
"Long an short of it mayor, five dudes summoned this elephant sized chaos monster that can burrow underground pop up through the foundation and smash whomever it wants to a pulp. The thing needs to destroy or consume each of these five dudes to fully turn into whatever it is gonna turn into. It has got three of the five I'm bettin. If the brickmonger fled to his lair, I'm thinkin he's already dead, but if he's hidin in your basement or even worse hidin in the Temple of Pharasma . . . "
Marsh lets the silence sink in as he swirls his drink in his cup staring down at the dark fluid.
"The peasants want into the castle thinkin its the safest place in the village, when they see the castle fall . . . "
He knocks it back in a single swig and slaps the vessel down on the tabletop.
So anyhows, we need to get to one of the livin targets to prevent a full transformation or whatever."
Better safe than dead. He thinks to himself regarding the haste as the Shield dissipates during the walk over.
Marsh's words echo in his head "Anybody got a glitterdust scroll handy?" He curses his lack of preparation, relying too much on the school of Divination. If they are going to be swallowed by an invisible beast, they'll be looking to me for a response.
The walk over to Crown Manor is long, and while he travels over he starts to think of ways around the problem, though its clear that he doesn't have one as of yet; his eyes dart to every stall in vain hope that there may be an answer...
---
Dramin drinks the stew down quickly and sees the smoke of the hearth and fog of outside, his thoughts hazy as he mulls over his problem. Its in that moment he sees it outside, not literally but in a singular moment.
Rain, smoke, it wouldn't matter. It always hits its mark. He stands up and grabs a flask out of his bag and walks outside; completely silent and tuning out the conversation indoors. He places it on the floor and walks back inside and looks.
The glass may be invisible, but you can still see the rain hit it...
"The rain!" He laughs as he comes to a conclusion, "Nethys take me for a fool, I was too focused on magic. Forgive me!"
He's unaware how loud he is speaking, and where the conversation is, but he runs back up to collect his flask and flips his book open, readying himself to hatch a plan in case of invisible creatures.
If only I had more time, I could probably turn this into a real tool. He grins and twirls out in the rain for a moment, before realizing how self conscious he is and turning back quickly.
Mayor Heggry nods his head slowly, a grim look on his face. "So Rupman Myre was involved in this monster's appearance. Pharasma help us... we have been too soft on him for too long. Middenstone business be damned, we were fools to allow him to practice his dark arts in our city. The Church of Pharasma should have sent inquisitors to destroy him years ago."
"Myre is currently sequestered under guard in the guest chambers upstairs. If you wish to confront him, you may go ahead. Please be careful- I don't like the idea of violence underneath my roof..."
This wasn't the first time I'd cornered a rat who wanted to escape. I went through the mental checklist. The first was always to cut off the escape routes.
"There'll be three primary ways for him to escape." I said outloud. "Out a window with a fly or feather fall spell. Teleportation or dimensional travel magic. Or by going through the walls, ceiling, or floor either intangibly or by blowing a hole there. What do we have to counter him?"
Someone's talking strategy.
Dramin snaps back to reality.
"Escape routes? Well thats always an issue; if we can catch him with stealth even the best has issues."
He flips quickly through his book and looks at Warshawski, "Not much prepared I'm afraid, mainly defensive spells and for my bow. Although I do have a scroll of vanish which may give us a slight edge..." He mutters under his breath, "... though it would last about 12 seconds at best..."
"I could post guard under his window in case he tries that route," Dalton offers.
"Guys, do we know for sure if it helps us or hurts us to kill him? If we just off the guy and strengthens the monster and that b~#%@ that's not gonna help us. If he runs out of the house at least the mayor's house won't get leveled. I can sneak up on the guy, but we gotta know if making him dead or not is the plan."
"Don't all speak at once now. If ya thought any longer yer heads will implode."
"I would prefer to put him to the question. However his escape should not be tolerated. Kill him if he proves unwieldy." Bacarov readies his spear, removing the leather sheath. "His death comes either way..."
Even gestures to the monk, "Head outside as you said. Get to the window and prepare to make entry."
"Weapon must blind and deafening him as quickly as possible. With no Mage's hood available it will be up to you Marsh to close with him quickly. Subdue, if you can...kill if he proves difficult."
"Dramin, use your scroll, strike with blunt arrows perhaps?"
"Warshawski, coordinate with Marsh. It will make his attacks more effective...focus on blinding him if you can."
The party, following Mayor Heggry's direction, ascends the stairs to the guest room that Rupman Myre supposedly occupies. Dalton leaves Crown Manor and circles around to the back of the manor, with the Mayor at his heels, pointing out which window Myre might try to escape to.
There is no response when the party attempts to call out or knock on the door, and they find that it is locked. However, a rustling sound can be heard beyond the door...
Marsh settles in against the wall. All he needs is to be within 30 feet of the window. He unlimbers the paueliel wood bow from his back. Marsh was a master shot and if he had time to aim he was deadly. He readied himself to snipe the Mage at first opportunity. The broad head sinisterly waiting to find flesh was coated with the poison collected from the gnome and his party on the way to Ravenmoor. That seemed so far away now.
The big man slowed his breathing, made one last check to ensure he was enveloped in shadow, then waited . . .
Pathfinder_OGC Search Gamemastering > Afflictions > Poisons >
Drow Poison
Type poison (injury); Save Fortitude DC 13
Frequency 1/minute for 2 minutes
Initial Effect unconsciousness for 1 minute; Secondary Effect unconsciousness for 2d4 hours; Cure 1 save
Dalton says nothing, readying himself as he presses himself up against the building. To the mayor, he holds one finger to his lips to signal for quiet. As soon as Rupman lands, the monk would be all over him.
Dramin draws his bow and gets his blunt arrows ready. There is no need to kill a fellow mage if the other option could suffice.
He recasts his Message as they split up, knowing that they may need the extra communication in the havoc that could follow. Until then, he waits at the door, on the off chance that he decides to leave from the front.
Bacarov shrugs his shoulders and his cloak of Darkness manifests as he slips his lock picking tools, working the door lock.
Rupman HP: 45/57
As soon as Bacarov begins working the lock, the trio of investigators posted outside Crown Manor see the window opening. Marsh draws his bowstring back, as he, Dalton, and Warshawski watch the window for movement.
The window jerks open and a familiar figure leans out through the opening- dreadlocked, of Mwangi descent, and cloaked in a drab robe stained with what appears to be fresh blood. Rupman Myre does not appear to see the figures waiting for him below as he swings his thin legs out over the ledge and throws himself out into the air. Strangely, he falls very slowly, a magic spell slowing his descent... perhaps to his detriment, as Marsh's readied arrow slams into him practically unopposed! He seems unaffected by the poison, but shrieks in pain at the injury.
At the same time, in the Manor above, Bacarov manages to unlock the door. The guest room beyond it seems to have been ravaged and turned over, strange arcane markings scrawled onto the walls and odd charms hanging from the doors and windows. Most alarmingly, several recently-dead rats are splayed out across the bedside table, eerie protective wards drawn in their blood.
"MYRE!!" Bacarov roars in rage and plunges into the room and leaps thru the window...
...and he calls upon the gifts of his god to slow his fall, spear raised for the attack. From below its as though a living shadow with trails of cloaked darkness bursts from the window.