The dog yelps; the zombies burn......they're still up though; burning flesh and smoke smoulders under their armor though.
HUZZAH!!!
<Wod laughs at the burning zombies.>
GM: ** spoiler omitted **
Castiel:
** spoiler omitted **
Rholf:
Looking out the window, you see you are on the second story at least....above a balcony. There's a guillotine on the balcony, about 20 feet down below you.
And way off in the distance......you see Ravengro.......
Group's attack; all that went so far this round was Myron.
Nigel/Azulzu, Larissa, Alinya, and Edwin are up...
Oh, and Wod laughed a lot.......
Larissa saw Rholf enchant his mace. She moves and retrieves his mace, leaving her quarterstaff with him.
right on....
map updated
GM:
Rholf:
Larissa saw Rholf enchant his mace. She moves and retrieves his mace, leaving her quarterstaff with him.
<Wod laughs at that.>
Rholf; Castiel:
Group's attack; all that went so far this round was Myron.
Nigel/Azulzu, Larissa, Alinya, and Edwin are up...
Oh, and Wod laughed a lot.......
Larissa went,....
CMB rolls:
CMB roll:
Range touch roll:
"Foul gnome from deepest hells! Azulzu! Attack!"
"Oh for the love of Pharasma's sweet repose. Will you just stop!" Alinya stamps her foot in exasperation and channels Pharasma's power once more.
Rholf and GM:
Castiel rubs his temples and replies to Rholf, in a quieter voice if it seems like the other man is not so distant that he will be heard without yelling.
“Mine also,” replies Castiel. “If that undead dastard has damaged my sword, there will be retribution … Father Kastigar, look through the window in the door of your cell and I will do likewise, to see if we may spy each other …”
As he approaches the door, Castiel again looks for any weak points, lock, hinge, bars etc.
"Oh for the love of Pharasma's sweet repose. Will you just stop!" Alinya stamps her foot in exasperation and channels Pharasma's power once more.
<Wod laughs at Lady.>
Perception (Looking at the door):
Perception (Looking for Castiel):
Perception (Listening for the direction of Castiel's voice):
"That's more like it! Keep it up lads and lasses, they're not long for it now!" Edwin extolls the others onward. He makes a quick note of what the others do without prompting, to note their mannerisms and fighting styles, then pops his whip at the unarmed Zombie still standing before him,...
** spoiler omitted **
Castiel/Rholf
You both see a flickering on the wall. And each of you notices your name, slowly appearing, letter by letter, written in blood that seeps down the wall from the gory sigil of each letter......slowly forming, written by a phantom hand.........
1d20+5;1d4+3;1d20+5;1d4+3;1d20+5;1d6+3
CMB rolls: 1d20+5;1d20+5;1d20+5
1d20+3;1d6+3
CMB roll: 1d20+3
Range touch roll: 1d20+2;1d3
"Foul gnome from deepest hells! Azulzu! Attack!"
And it's horrible what Azulzu does to the thing; he rips its arms off, and beats it and beats it until its nigh unrecognizable........
And Alinya's final blast makes the zombies fall.
End of combat.
exp forthcoming.
650 experience points each; bonus thrown in for roleplaying.....
the room is occupied by 5 corpses, and there's a raised alter in back where Giraroj was standing to open up the encounter.
** spoiler omitted **
Rholf/Castiel.....
"Oh for the love of Pharasma's sweet repose. Will you just stop!" Alinya stamps her foot in exasperation and channels Pharasma's power once more.
1d6
.....that'll do them in finally......
Rholf / GM:
650 experience points each; bonus thrown in for roleplaying.....
the room is occupied by 5 corpses, and there's a raised alter in back where Giraroj was standing to open up the encounter.
<Wod lays on the floor as the laughing wears off.>
"Ooohhhhh. Wod's cheeks hurt. Why everyone act so funny."
<Looks at George.>
"Ok. Now George really dead."
<Then he just lays there....>
Larissa checks among the group for survivors and casts more than one anxious glance at the color spray victims, but doesn't think there's anything she can do for them.
<Wod lays on the floor as the laughing wears off.>
"Ooohhhhh. Wod's cheeks hurt. Why everyone act so funny."
<Looks at George.>
"Ok. Now George really dead."
<Then he just lays there....>
Edwin shakes his head, a mildly bemused expression on his face.
"Occupational hazard my friend. Come along big guy, up and at 'em." He says, offering a hand out to the half-orc to help him up from the ground.
Edwin looks at George/Giraroj, then to Wod.
"I am sorry about George Wod. What Giraroj did to him is terrible. Let me remove anything that Giraroj may have been carrying. Hopefully he had something that will give us a clue as to what's going on. And we can bury poor George. Properly this time." He says,
"Well, it's a bit earlier than we planned. But since we're here anyway, we may as well find these protective artifacts the professor mentioned." Edwin says. rising from George's body, brushing off his hands.
Let's have a look at the most obvious place first, shall we?" he asks no one inparticular. Heading for the Altar.
Edwin looks at the guys on the floor.
"Shouldn't they have recovered from the effect of the spell by now?" He murmurs to himself.
"Urgh. The undead bastard got in a lucky shot." With a grimace, Myron gets off the floor. He quaffs a small bottle of murky liquid before utilising his temporary size and strength to move the dead bodies to the side of the room.
"I'll carry them upstairs. Some fresh air should to the two them good."
Rholf / GM: ** spoiler omitted **
MEDIUM XP....ALMOST THERE...
Castiel/Rholf
** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **
Rholf:
AND THEN,......
Castiel and Rholf finally shake off the colorspray spell; they're back awake.
Searching the four warriors.....
4 suits of plate armor
4 masterwork great swords
Giraroj
+1 ring of protection
wand of magic missile...1st level.....25 charges
you find some cool stuff in the alter......
12 silver arrows
4 sun rods
6 flasks of holy water
10 +1 arrows
5 potions of cure light wounds
five +1 ghost touch arrows
two +1 undead bane arrows
two potions of lesser restoration
a scroll of detect undead
two scrolls of hide from undead
1 scroll of protection from evil
and a thin darkwood case, decorated with an image of a scarab with a single eye glaring from its back, the same thing as was on the Manual of the Palatine Eye.
The case itsself is worth 50 g.p.
The case is closed; doesn't appear to be locked......
“Ugh,” says Castiel, sitting up and rubbing his head. “That was an odd experience ... it seemed like we were in the Harrowstone Prison ... my friends, I am sorry that I was unsportingly knocked out and unable to contribute to the battle ... Wod, how do you fare?”
<Laying on his back with his arms and legs stretched out, wearing a blank expression.>
"Wod laughed. George dead. What Wod do now? Wod just have axe and armor."
“Wod, you are a fine (if undisciplined) warrior – stick with us, help us defeat the evil that seems to grip this town!” Castiel speaks fervently.
Larissa walks over to the half-orc and crouches down so she can touch his shoulder, "That's not completely true, Wod. You have lost George, and I understand your grief, but you have gained, also. Look at us - I, and Castiel, and I'm sure the rest of our suddenly-acquired fellowship, would have you remain with us. You were strong enough to recognize that the spirit in George's body was evil - your strength will be valuable in what promised to be dangerous days ahead."
She smiles, "So, Wod, what do you say? Would you be my friend? Our friend?"
"Aye" Rholf drawls as he sits up rubbing his temples. "You are, of course, a welcome addition to this endeavor." Rholf glances at Castiel as he begins to rise "Did you have a vision of being in Harrowstone?"
Rholf stands the rest of the way up, taking stock of himself and the others. "My apologies, folks. The undead's magic was unexpected. I shall try not to be taken by surprise again. Wod, are you hurt? I could heal you if you require it. Miss Brightfoot, it doesn't look like you were injured, I trust none of the foul things laid a hand upon you."
"It is a relief to see you up and around and sounding like yourself. I was concerned what that foul creature's magic might have done to your mind to knock you out so completely."
She walks over to where he's regained his feet, "Here is your mace. I thought to use it since you'd enchanted it, but the others dealt with the dead ones before any of them got close enough for me to test my martial skills." This last is said ruefully -- you are pretty sure she has little confidence in her 'martial skills' -- as she hands the weapon back to its owner. "They did not have the opportunity to strike me."
"I left my quarterstaff by you in case you did wake up and could make use of it, where did it go?" Casting about for a few minutes, she realizes that the weapon 'accidentally' rolled to the other side of the door and then up against the wall. "It appears my 'friends' made it rather inaccessible to both of us. It's a good thing you did not need it..."
"Aye" Rholf drawls as he sits up rubbing his temples. "You are, of course, a welcome addition to this endeavor." Rholf glances at Castiel as he begins to rise "Did you have a vision of being in Harrowstone?"
“I did indeed,” nods Castiel. “We spoke, in my dream, and something began to write our names on the wall ...”
“It appears that we have stumbled upon the Pharasmin stash the Professor mentioned in his journal,” Castiel says examining the items found in the altar. “They have quite a good supply of undead and ghost fighting equipment here ... a pity they don’t have any good swords, but I suppose arrows will need to do.” The paladin regrets his decision not to have brought his bow along to Ravengro – perhaps he’ll need to buy another.
“Can Father Grimbarrow be trusted?” he asks the others. “It seemed so to me, but Wod had an instinct not to trust him ... and after this whole episode with ‘George’ I feel more inclined to pay attention to Wod’s instincts ... at any rate, if we can trust Grimbarrow we should bring this stash to his attention and ask if we can borrow some of the items here before we venture up to Harrowstone or further explore the evil in this graveyard. If he can’t be trusted ... then perhaps we can borrow what we need without his knowledge. I propose that we speak to him about what has happened here – George, the zombies – and carefully judge his reaction.”
"I agree, Castiel." Rholf says as he briefly eyes the discovered items. "Caution should be exercised in all our interactions with most people here."
As if only now remembering, Rholf turns slowly around, examining the walls of the room. "Didn't George say something about crawling through a tunnel to reach this room after being animated? It would be worthwhile to locate and investigate said opening."
Perception:
Rholf reaches up to rub his temples once again, sighing. "Accursed headache."
There's some little five by five alcoves on the walls.....a cursory examination shows that there is, indeed a burrowhole in the floor of one of these, on the left. It's roughly circular, maybe 2 feet across; Wod would have trouble in there.....but a gnome presumably wouldn't. Looks like it goes straight down.
Nigel looks about, panting
"A nest of *pant* undead corpses! I *pant* guess I should have expected this in Ustalav, *pant* but I thought the stories were *pant* hyperbole!"
"Apparently not my good doctor." Edwin says, eyeing the treasure trove with a gleam in his eye.
"It would seem that the dead are, literally, restless here in Ustalav. Real enough to warrant this little stash in preparation for an emergency. I can make use of the arrows, although I'm happy to share that duty with anyone else handy with a bow. Hm,... what have we here?" He asks aloud, examining the little box curiously.
"Hmph. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained." He says, and pops the clasp, then raises the lid slowly with one cautious finger,...
In the box are four iron and glass vials containing churning clouds of vapor.
There is also a thin wooden board with all the letters of the alphabet, numerals 1 through zero, and "Yes" at the top left, and "No" at the top right, and a brass planchette, teardrop shaped, about 4 inches long, with a 1 inch circle through it near the point of the teardrop.