The newest Pathfinder to join you lobs a small flask just short of the last remaining dog, and it bursts into a small ball of flame. The dog was not expecting to suddenly be on fire, and takes the full brunt of the flames, though everyone else remains unscathed.
Angela steps away from it, her way not cleared by Kahwen, and jabs at it indignantly... though her blow goes wide.
The dog, for its part, finds itself surrounded by hostile foes, all of its packmates down, and in intense pain from the burns. When Angela chucks a hunk of meat at it, it seems to be the last straw! With a whine, it tucks its tail between its legs, and flees to the south, trying to get away.
Unfortunately, it hits the grease for a second time and in its panicked flight, doesn't navigate it nearly as well as it did the first time through, slipping and tumbling onto its face. It spins helplessly as it slides across the area, coming to a stop a few feet away, its legs scrabbling desperately to get back up.
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"No, really, have you seen another group?" "Just turned my back and looked into that other room for a second. They were gone." "Well if it is all the same, can I join up with you all?" "It is quite scary having all these magical wards going off and what not."
"Hopefully that dog will find a nice corner and stay there until this is all sorted out."
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"Agreed and agreed," Kahwen says, leaning on his sword and watching the dog flee.
"You're more than welcome to join us. We can always use another hand," he says to Haska.
"Too bad we don't have a nature lover with us...he looks friendly enough when he's not trying to kill us," he says about the dog.
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"If you are always that efficient with a bomb, I would be glad to have you on the team, Haska." She then glances over to the now pitiful looking dog. "You know for something that was trying to kill me not a few moments ago, he looks rather... pitiful. I wish he'd at least take the meat."
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Kahwen looks between Angela and Haska and nods. "You will certainly be a fine addition Friend Haska. It looks like some other teams have the runes in hand but we could go help. I know you wanted to face them, Friend Angela."
He stops leaning on his sword, resting it on his shoulder and looking toward the garden.
You quickly pop back outside, to make sure the wards active around the outside of the museum have indeed all been disabled.
Most of them appear to be just that, but as you case the perimeter, you realize a few are still functioning. No longer the vast wall you saw on the way in, there are still a few smaller bands still circling nearby! They seem to react to your presence, almost as if they can see you, and start to coalesce into a larger mass over the fountain.
In its currently active state, however, it is little different then a swarm, able to do physical damage to anyone it happens to pass over.
/spoiler]
[spoiler=Perception DC 26]There appears to be some sort of arcane glyph hidden in the grass around the fountain... possibly a trap of some sort, but even as you spot it, it appears to move and you lose track of it again.
- Round 1 ---------
Hadza, Haska, Nigel, Angela, Kahwen, Dark
living runes
You guys are up! Lets see how you do. =)
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It truly does seem like others have the failing wards in hand, but Kahwen is so thrilled by their successes so far (he hasn't even been hit, yet, let alone knocked unconscious!) that he's eager to try something else.
He is pleased that the swarm is not as big as it was. That seemed rather daunting.
He frowns as he examines the area.
"Oh! It's like a big trap! I know how to deal with traps!"
He pulls out the latest of his most prized possessions, a set of obviously high quality picks, files, pliers and other tools designed for mischief.
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"Thank you for allowing me to join your group." "I see some of you are injured. If you have a wand I can help with its activation and hopefully remove the injuries." "I seem to have left mine in a ... I don't seem to have one now. I guess that needs to be on my purchase list."
He then stares long and hard at the wards.
"It almost seems to be living magic. It is dangerous and can hurt you if it gets around you. It is a machine and as such is not affected by poison and other such affects."
The tengu moves in quickly and goes to work, tapping on individual runes as they whirl past. As he works, you see individual tiles dropping to the grass, until finally an entire band of glowing runes seems to slow and fade. But there are still many more runes left active.
- Round 1 ---------
Hadza, Haska, Nigel, Angela, Kahwen, Dark
living runes
Everyone but Kahwen can still act.
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Nigel charges up to the runes These are fascinating! So many cool things going on at once! Let me take a look!
Hmmm... let me see. Maybe if I do... this and then this... maybe the runes will go away? Nigel says with questioning instantiation.
If someone doesn't have a way of hurting these runes, I have a few alchemical fires that could burn them up... maybe?
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After a loud crack and a ripple of arcane energy, silence falls across the museum as the construct guards freeze in place and haunted relics drop to the ground. Nigel’s voice rings out, magically projected throughout the museum: “We’ve disabled the magical security measures. Since we haven’t found the thieves yet, they must be hiding in my third-story study. Please subdue them; they have much to answer for!”
Nigel Aldain’s announcement echoes through a museum littered with shattered clockwork and toppled exhibits. There’s no question that the Pathfinders have quelled the building’s defenses, and perhaps the peaceful silence will set whoever hides on the third floor at ease.
You have barely started trying to unravel the last of the wards, when the burst of arcane energy washes across the entire building. Instantly, all of the remaining runes tumble to the ground like a rain of pebbles.
You don't have much time to analyze what happened, but you do have Nigel's (the other one) message still ringing in your ears.
With as much haste as you can muster, you join the other Pathfinders heading to the third floor of the Blackros Museum, eager to confront the people responsible for all the chaos... and quite the chaotic milieu it is. As you make your way upstairs, you finally get a good view of all the damage caused by the out of control security measures, and the efforts made to stop them. Priceless artifacts and rare mementos of bygone ages lay scattered about everywhere you look, many of them destroyed or damaged beyond repair.
When you finally reach the long arced stairwell that leads up to the third floor, just past where you fought the wax golem, you immediately note that the wards that prevented you from accessing it earlier, are indeed gone! Whatever magical energy that shut down the last of the warding runes, apparently took down this seal as well. Without hesitation you make your way up, eventually arriving in the large domed chamber at the top.
The mahogany walls and domed, plaster ceiling both show signs of heavy damage. Most of the luxurious furniture and the large crystal chandelier are intact, so it has not suffered the same damage as the other rooms you've passed through.
The contents of cabinets and bookcases lie strewn about the floor. A small wooden panel near the door hangs open, revealing an arcane sigil covered in scorch marks.
You are not alone up here, however. A Kellid woman dressed in furs with intricate scars all over her body steps forward as you arrive. She holds a hand up and shouts, "Stay back. We are members of the Twinhorn following, and we have only come to retrieve what was stolen from us."
Two more kellid warriors stand nearby, both of them armed and on the alert.
A fourth figure steps forward with the woman, towering over her. Although it has the form of a man clad in heavy armor and wielding a warhammer in each hand, he, or perhaps it, is clearly not human, at least not anymore. He is entirely translucent-red, such that you can see right through him, his form distorting what's on the far side, giving it all a crimson tint.
Medda, The ghostly warrior calls loudly, sounding hollow and furious. They must be in league with the thieves. They should die for crossing us.
As his voice bellows out, the chandelier far overhead glows with a dull light.
The woman, Medda, puts a hand on the figure’s arm and says in a calmer tone, "Maybe we should give them a chance to explain themselves, Anok.
All four of them watch you, three warily and one with barely contained anger.
Our side?! The transparent warrior roars, starting to step forward angrily, only to have Medda stop him short, with a hand on his arm.
"Anok, please." She looks back at the rest of you, frowning. "I have already told you our side. We came to retrieve what these Blackros people stole from us, not you... unless you are their agents as well."
"We simply recover one of our most precious heirlooms." She retrieves a bundle of what appear to be old bandages stained with long dried blood, which she careful unwraps to reveal the hilt of a dagger with just a fragment of a dark blade remaining.
"This belonged to Ivvora, a champion of Vildeis, who vanquished the great black evil from our land, over nine centuries ago." She holds one hand over it, reverentially, though doesn't quite touch it. "We have kept it safe ever since."
Until those Blackros thieves stole it! The ghostly warrior, Anok, shouts, unable to contain his anger any longer. We gave them shelter. Shared with them our stories. And in thanks, treachery and theft!
Again, Medda places her hand gently on Anok's arm, calming him down.
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Angela stops short in the entry way struck by an overpowering sense of Deja Vu. After a few seconds to breath deeply she continues in.
Her hackles seem to rise slightly at getting called a thief, but she stays calm. "This definitely doesn't look good. But if that was stolen from you, we shouldn't impede you in getting it back... and quite frankly with the mess out there I doubt the owners are going to miss a broken dagger."
After hearing the responses of Anok, her eyes narrow slightly. "It sounds like there might be more to your story. Could you tell it to us?"
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Kahwen bristles at the woman and spirit's accusations...literally, his feathers fluffing up. He grips the hilt of his sword, though he does not draw it...yet.
"We're no thieves! We're Pathfinders!" he declares.
"Sure, I've stolen things, as a Pathfinder and for the Society but it was only small things and it was from people who deserved it and it was for a good cause," he says.
He gapes at both Dark and Hadza. "That could be an important artifact, Friends. We should at least ask the Venture Captain about this situation."
They seem little moved by most of your words, neither Hadza's nor Angela's having any sway at all... and Kahwen's seems to anger the ghostly red warrior.
They claim innocence and guilt in the same breath! Anok accuses in his ghostly bellow. The chandelier overhead seeming to flicker in response. Medda is the dagger's guardian! For generations it has been passed down. It will not to be stolen again by Blackros thieves!
He seems to be working himself up again, and like the previous times, a gentle hand from Medda seems to keep him in check.
"Becoming a phantom has only increased his passion." She says apologetically.
"This was not our first course of action." She continues, a slight grimace on her face. "For months we have tracked it... that trail lead us here." She waves one hand to vaguely indicate the museum. "We tried to talk to this Nigel person you mention... the Blackros' representative here." She shakes her head. "But he refused, accusing us of of 'sellers remorse', like our clan heritage was something we would ever sell."
Medda reaches over to Anok again, heading the spirits ire off before he even gets started this time. By his expression, you suspect it was just in time, and he settles for just glaring at you with his ghostly red eyes.
The woman stands thoughtfully for a moment, studying you carefully. "I know nothing of these Pathfinders you claim to represent." She says finally. "But perhaps, if you are not agents..."
Lackies! Anok blurts out.
"... delegates ..." Medda corrects with a sigh. "... of the Blackros... then maybe we can work this out in a less ... strained environment."
She addresses that last towards Dark, who seems to be the only one who's words made any impact at all.
Medda seems to consider for a few moments, then nods.
She gives a quick command, then she and the other two kellid warriors move to gather up their gear. Anok stays where he is, obviously unhappy with this turn of events, glaring at you all as if he wants to say more... but, whatever that is, gets suddenly interrupted by a loud cracking sound from overhead!
,
Everyone's eyes turn upwards, where you see the chandelier swinging wildly, the crystals dangling from its arms glowing a bright reddish-orange light. Before anyone can react, it suddenly breaks free of its supports, and the entire thing comes crashing down, directly on top of Anok! The phantom reacts quickly, clearly expecting some sort of treachery, leaping to the side with an angry yell, as the entire chandelier comes down where he stood only moments before. It hits the ground with a deafening crash, bits of crystal and broken metal spinning and gyrating across the floor in every direction.
From the wreckage, a huge roiling mass rises up! The pile of quivering flesh has vaguely defined arms and legs, more pulpy blobs attached to a larger mass then actual limbs. On top, a semblance of a face has formed in the tumorous tissue: misaligned black orbs for eyes, and what passes for a mouth open in a soundless scream.
"Anok!" Medda screams, as the spirit is nearly crushed by the falling chandelier. She starts to motion to the other kellids to back off, unsure what the creature is, or why it is here.
Trickery! Anok's voice booms from the far side of the wreckage, clearly ready to blame you for this latest development. The phantom quickly recovers, and turns on the large fleshy mass in the middle of the room, slamming his fists into it, over and over. Get clear, Guardian! He calls back at Medda.
Where his fists connect, you see ripples roll across the creature's bulk, but you're not sure if the blows did much damage at all!
- Round 1 ------------
kellids
Hadza, Nigel, Kahwen, Haska, Dark, Angela
fleshy creature
Party is up!
The eagle appears on the other side of the beast, due to some clever planning on Nigel's part. Knowing the eagle wouldn't be smart enough to flank, he placed the eagle where it already is.
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"Rawk! It wasn't us! It wasn't us!" Kahwen declares in surprise and denial.
After shielding himself from the shrapnel of the falling chandelier, he whips his sword out of its sheath and flings himself into combat.
He may not like Anok and his accustations but the spirit does make a good foil for him to play off of.
Of course, as he gets within the fleshy thing's reach, he leaps and extends his body back, going fully parallel to the floor for an instant before tucking into a roll that brings him right up next to it.
Dark is not aware of any particular weakness of these creatures... but, being a devil, it is likely more vulnerable to silver and good-aligned weapons over regular weaponry.
As the fleshy fiend rises to attack, Hadza wastes no time at all going on the offensive, bringing his lucerne hammer up and down in a might blow. It strikes the thing on the back, the hammer head sinking in like he'd just pelted a giant sponge. It seems to stick there, for a just a moment, before rebounding with a sickening slorrrrt sound, taking huge chunks of pussy flesh along with it. Whether it felt it or not is hard to tell, as its mouth does seem to move or emit any sound, stuck in the silent scream already. It is enough to draw its misshapen beady soulless gaze however, as its attention turns to focus on the barbarian.
Haska, unsure what it is, shifts to the side for a clear shot, and hurls a cold iron dagger, but the chaotic milieu proves harder to thread than he'd hoped, and the blade deflects off of a nearby chair, and goes wide!
Nigel isn't sure what it is either. So, with a now familiar gesture, he calls on another feathered ally from the celestial planes to fight it for him. With a faint burst of holy light, and what sound like a peel of tiny bells, an glorious specimen of an eagle appears on the far side, and dives to attack. Both its talons easily sink into the fleshy form, but it proves so malleable and bulbous that neither seem to have any effect at all. In fact, it suddenly seems unable to pull them back out again, and starts to flap its wings in distress. Finally, it manages to latch its vicious beak onto a slightly more solid section, and tears loose a large piece, freeing itself with an angry screech!
Kahwen is far less dramatic, rolling nimbly over the nearby table, and coming up on the far side, leading with his blade! The long thin steal sword slides in with ease, but he hits more rotted flesh then physical form, taking a burst of puss in the face for his trouble. Though his blow clearly did some damage, it was not nearly as much as his delivery promised.
It is Dark who finally sheds some light on the strange creatures identity, a Lemure! One of the legions of hell itself! He follows up that information with a quick arcane spell, pelting the lemure's fleshy hide with a missile of force that sends ripples across its chest. Ripples that seems to expand and feed into each other, until the entire thing seem to deflate like some sort of disgusting balloon, bits of foul-smelling puss oozing out, forming a vile lake around the tumorous island of its remaining bulk.
Anok continues beating on what remains well after it stops moving, until Medda steps in and gets him to stop.
It is easy to tell where Anok falls on that question, based on the glare he is giving you all.
Medda however, has no such qualms. "It is good to see your desire to see such fiends put down is so strong!" She gives Anok an elbow tap, and the phantom scowls, and nods silently, relenting slightly.
"Let us talk to this Venture-Captain of yours, before more surprises present themselves." She adds, with a rueful smile.
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Haska tries to remember what he saw and heard before the devil appeared.
and
"Yes, let us go and talk this through. But, I can tell you that thing was not summoned as its physical remains would have returned elsewhere. Plus, with all the wards going down at once maybe a creature took advantage and came through in the weakened state."
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"Huzzah!" Kahwen declares, brandishing his sword over his head as they quickly vanquish their foe.
That causes a bit of the puss still one the blade to fall off and hit his beak.
"Eww...I liked fighting the banner better, Companions," he says.
"Let us find Captain Valsin before something else gross comes along."
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You carefully make your way down the museum, cautiously on the lookout for unknown surprises at every twist and turn knowing that danger may be lurking about. For the most part, it is safe, until, a vase falls and breaks forcing everyone to turn their heads in the direction of!
"Uhh. Sorry." Medda mutters as her spear hanging from the back seems to have knocked right into the vase. The rest of the walk is calmer, as you head out the Blakros Museum's entrance to meet the crowd gathered, as well as Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin.
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The crowd of guards, onlookers, and concerned citizens outside the Blakros Museum quiets as Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin approaches a woman clad in furs exiting the museum. “My Pathfinder agents tell me that you are Medda of the Twinhorn following, is that correct?”
“Yes, I speak for the following.” Medda glares at Nigel Aldain, “I have come to reclaim what is rightfully ours. His agents stole our most sacred relic after we refused to sell it. We have traveled through dangerous lands to claim it back, and still he refused—”
“My agents claim they bought it,” Nigel protests. “I’m not going to just give it to you because you stomp into my office demanding priceless artifacts.”
Valsin interjects, “Nigel, let us listen to her story and decide how to proceed. Medda, tell us about this relic. Why is it so important to you?”
Medda takes a deep breath. “Over 900 years ago, a powerful warrior named Ivvora came into our camp. She spoke of an angel named Vildeis who guided her hunt for a great dark evil she called Eshimka. Several of our scouts had recently disappeared, later found ripped into pieces. The elders insisted that we help banish this evil and ensure the safety of our following. They laid a trap for the evil spirit, luring it to our sacred standing stones on the winter solstice. There, Ivvora and the great dark evil, Eshimka, fought a mighty battle that raged for hours. Just as the night was darkest, Ivvora dealt Eshimka a telling blow, digging her dagger deep into its flesh. The creature tried to escape, but it only snapped off the blade and then collapsed on the center stone. The elders finished their ritual and destroyed it completely.
“Ivvora rested with us for the winter before departing to eradicate more evil from the world, but not before leaving us the hilt of her weapon.” Medda withdraws a bundle of bloody cloth from her bag, then unwraps it to reveal a small hilt with a bloody fragment of black metal. “She told us to bring the hilt back to the standing stones every year at the winter solstice to keep evil away. We’ve had to travel for so long to retrieve the hilt, I’m afraid we won’t make it back in time for the solstice. Please, let me leave now.”
Ambrus Valsin contemplates Medda’s story for a moment, then nods, his brow furrowed. “Nigel, you should send for the Blakros agents who ‘obtained’ the hilt and hear what they have to say. Medda, I’m going to send as many Pathfinder agents as you deem necessary to travel with you and your following. I want to ensure we return this relic to its proper place.” Nigel starts to protest, but Valsin cuts him off. “Nigel, you wanted my help; you are getting it. I’m helping you fix a mistake your agents made. As for your museum,” Valsin takes a moment to survey the heavily damaged museum, ”I’m told most of the damage was done by your own security, not Medda and her following.
“Pathfinders, prepare to head north to the Realm of the Mammoth Lords.”