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Figuring that taking down on target is her best bet, Rivani lets loose with another flurry of magical darts.
"Mavaro! Hang in there, we'll save you!" She wishes she could do more against the undead, as well... but chooses not to express her concerns. She basks in the knowledge that she can do at least a little more than that nasty little halfling.
She then unshoulders her crossbow, wondering if it would soon be time to resort to more mundane methods. Again, she wishes her training were better on this aspect of combat, but she knows that she can push her own body to be better than it should be at physical combat... at least for a moment.
They'll save me?
Mavaro looks around incredulously. Blood drips from numerous wounds and he realizes that his necromantic energy has run out and that a good portion of the life energy is his own.
"It is to be like that, then?" the man steps out of his friends' way and grasps his sword in both hands, "Alors! Mourir, connards!"
Unable to shake off the stare of the creepy hafling, Larry's actions seems so much slower compared to the hasted movements of the other Pathfinders.
Larry in his single mindlessness, once again attacks Honarie.
Honarie goes hit hard.
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Focused and nearly blinded by her rage and fury, Yoon steps forward towards the door to get a better look at the enemies within. Once again, she swirls her arms around her, gathering power from the substances surrounding her.
She quickly unleashes the gathered energy in another gout of blue-ish flame that roils and sticks to Chuck as it washes over him.
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Chuck erupts into another bout of flame, this time the heat is too much and his dry, dead bones, crackle and burst. All that remain is a few globs of molten metal, and ash.
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Erasmus rushes into the room, stoping abruptly beside Mavaro, and drawing back on his precious starknife. As the balde comes around, he adds a powerful shout trying to draw the undead creature's attention upon himself. "Here, you undead terror!" he cries, waving his opposite hand wildly, making himself appear to be the biggest target before the creature. "With the King's help, I will see you fall!"
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Estra, feeling through her senses the massive hit that her beloved Honaire just took, moves into the room, careful to avoid Larry's reach. She casts a spell, then waits for Honaire to step towards her before releasing it, imbuing him with a bit of extra protection.
The spiritual weapon continues its onslaught against Larry.
Honaire also continues his assault on the skeleton, not wishing to feel any more of its attacks.
Erasmus misses the slowed Larry with his starknife, while Honarie also punches wide.
Estra barely connects with her spiritual weapon but does manage to damage the ancient warrior.
Rivani again damages undead with her arcane bolts. This time it's Larry though.
Mavaro, not sure how effective he is being nevertheless pushes the assault on Larry. "My sword may not be doing much to you, cochon, but while I have breath in me, I will try to put you back in your grave!"
Mavaro turns around and slashes furiously at the skeletal champion with the one-eyed longsword.
Surprised, but satisfied with the efficiency of the Slow spell, Meligaster releases his grip on the wand, and lets it drop on the floor. He directs his mesmerizing stare towards Larry, and blindly gropes for another wand on his belt - the one they just found.
Again, not knowing the details of casting the spell inside, the halfling shakes the wand in patters and points it at Larry, hoping for the best.
"Bibbidi bobbidi Boo!"
Mavaro stuns the Pathfinders with his ability to use his sword cane, slicing Larry up like Chuck did to him.
Meligaster, not wanting to drip any acid on himself, fires the wand wide.
Larry, still slowed, tries his best to take Honarie down.
But can't even seem to do that.
Mavaro, unusually, keep his mouth shut. Seeing his opponent in peril, he concentrates on using his sword-ca... his longsword... (why did he keep thinking of it as a sword-cane?) as best as he can. His corpulent torso twists backwards, almost farther than his arms do, as he takes his two-handed swing.
Mavaro was concentrating so much that he forgot to concentrate. He elects to concentrate less, but not too much less for his next attack.
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Already nearby to the undead threat, the man draws back on his starknife and lashes out with a flurry of movement, his arms slashing wildly. As his limbs slash out at the creature, Erasmus can feel the king's influence guiding his actions and subtly taking hold of his mind. Seamlessly the haunting spirit and Erasmus' consciousness begin to merge, and unsettling feeling, but one the man is used to. He knew he could never have made it this far if it weren't for the spirit, in many ways it was stronger than he was, and in exchange for it's continued help, Erasmus would let it take complete hold occasionally and again walk amongst the living.
Mavaro and Erasmus team up to take down the last remaining skeleton warrior.
"Umm... does anyone have healing magics?" asks Mavaro, dusting chunks of skeleton from his protruding belly, "These things were foul. Glad you got to die twice, putain!" Mavaro spits on the warrior's twice-dead bones.
The uncouth Varisian refreshes his false life spell before casting his eyes about the room.
Mavaro squeezes out the last two charges of his wand and then throws the useless stick to the ground.
"..."
"Oh, and you think you could have done better?" replies the occultist, "Let us search the rooms these two came from and then finish exploring the house. There is a certain barmaid who is long overdue for some silver vengeance." Mavaro pats his freshly silvered sword.
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Sighing, Estra smiles at her husband, reaching out to stroke his arm, her eyes wandering to the ravages the skeletons left behind on his ectoplasmic body. She closes her eyes for a few moments, and the solid projection of Honaire vanishes. As she opens her eyes, a brief light flares inside of them for just a moment before fading.
"I'm afraid my Honaire will no longer be able to provide melee support, my friends. I believe we near the end, now, for better or worse."
With that, she casts Shield upon herself, then makes ready to continue.
"Honaire is no longer part of the action? Je suis désolé, truly," Mavaro, unusually sensitive, pats Estra on the shoulder, "Allors, time to kick in the door."
With his sword in hand, Mavaro does exactly that
As the Pathfinder heal up and move through the rest of the house, they pass the library & map room.
Bookshelves line the walls of this room, packed with any number of volumes, scrolls, and folios. In the center of the room and resting on a large colorful rug is a table covered with maps, papers, and writing implements.
And then Dagagal, the wayang's evoker's room. This spacious room appears to be almost too large for its occupant. A small and rumpled futon sits in the corner, next to a low table covered dirty cups and plates. Books are casually strewn about the floor, and the entire room reeks of incense.
Before finally entering the chambers of Minasako.
This spacious bedroom is finely appointed, with luxurious futon in the southeastern corner. Alongside it sits a writing desk with several ledgers and record books on top of it. To the northwest sits an enormous bathtub, almost the size of a vat. The furnishings in the room are intact and of good quality, but the scent of vinegar, is almost overpowering.
They see a woman with an ageless face lounging on the bed, dressed in the finest see through gossamer robe. She is, by all accounts, beautiful. The Pathfinders try and focus on the task at hand, but many of them begin to ogle the beautiful, naked woman. She purses her lips seductively before addressing the Pathfinders. ”Why have you come here? You seemed so harmless in town when I served you, yet here you stand, fully armed and dressed for war. Come sit, let us talk.”
Seeing the Pathfinders only grip their weapons all the tighter, she exhales sharply. ”Oh well. So be it.’
As she lounges, they can she her head rise from her body. Not sure if it is a tick of the lighting or if they are seeing things, they soon realize that her head is not the only organ that is ascending. The Pathfinders can see her esophagus and lungs begin to emerge from her shoulders, followed by the tip of her liver and stomach. From the side, they can see kidneys exposed. Before long, the entirety of her internal organs, still attached to her head, are floating above the empty flesh shell of her body. Blood drips down in rivulets like crimson icicles from her still beating organs, to make a small pool of gore.
“Don’t presume to judge me. Countless others have done worse to secure their immortality. How many murders buy a single vial of sun orchid elixir? Or do you seek the Way of the Kirin?” She chuckles throatily as she looks pointedly at the ledgers on the desk. “You’ll never find it! It’s deader than I am!”
Create Spawn (Su)When a penanggalen slays a female humanoid via blood drain, and if that slain humanoid had at least 10 Hit Dice in life, that slain humanoid rises as a manananggal at the next sunset. This manananggal is under the command of the penanggalen who created it, and remains enslaved until that penanggalen's destruction. A penanggalen may have enslaved spawn totalling no more than twice its own Hit Dice; any spawn it creates that would exceed this limit become free-willed undead.
Disease (Su)Any creature a penanggalen bites is exposed to filth fever—the save DC against this disease is set by the penanggalen, not the disease itself.
Wither (Su)A penanggalen's entrails drip with a foul bile that blisters and weakens living flesh. Any creature that is damaged by a penanggalen's slam attack must succeed at a Fortitude save or take 1d4 Dexterity and 1d4 Charisma damage.
"Silvered slashing weapons are best for this putain," says Mavaro as he strides boldy into the room, "She is sensitive to light, so open a window or blow the roof of this place if you can , resistant to cold and fire, she can drain your blood. She is disease ridden, but we will worry about that later. After all, what putain isn't diseased? Oh, and if her innards touch you, it won't be good for your reflexes or your good looks."
Warnings out of the way, Mavaro slashes at the penanggalen with his sword as hard as he can, holding it once more in both hands.
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"Ah... That's what she is... that explains everything. I guess we won't have to worry about finding a crypt?" She thinks about it a moment...
"Madam, you are a penanggalen. I am sorry to hear that you have taken this path, and have done such evil. I am sure that at some moment in time, you thought it necessary. However, I don't know that the Way of the Kirin is as dead as you thought... good ideas are truly hard to kill."
And then to her friends, "Do not let her touch you... her entrails are caustic!"
"Well, I don't know if it's a weakness or not, but she does fine have a veeeery fine pair of..." Meligaster's sentence leaves hanging mid-air, as he witnesses their attractive adversary dismantling. Speechless the halfling stares (but not in his normal, effective way) innards raising from the body.
Mavaro uncharacteristically ignores the beautiful woman enough to keep his head on his shoulders and advance into combat. Ignoring the gory mees in front of his, he swings nightly into the vital organs that are exposed, causing Minasako to take these intruders seriously.
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Erasmus nearly stumbles back in shock and horror at seeing the once beautiful woman separate and draw her organ into what little light is in the room. He hears the words of Mavaro called out and pauses, ever so briefly, unsure of what to do next. The thought crosses his mind of racing in to aid Mavaro, and standing side by side with his companion, slashing to lay the vile creature low. With great disappointment in himself and wondering what the king must think of him, the word coward even flickering into his consciousness as he stands his ground for a moment. Then he begins waving his arms in a strangely geometric pattern while muttering a few magical incantation.
Once the words are spoken, he releases a spell but then remains rooted in place, waiting to enter and approach the creature when he is prepared to attack in the same stride.
Silver still burning into her flesh, Minasako flies backwards. She turns to Mavaro.
"You fat bastard, how dare you! And where are your friends? Left you alone have they? I can hear them casting spells in the hallway. No matter, I have all the time in the world. Something you don't."
Mavaro can hear her muttering arcane words a split second before the ground erupts beneath his feet. A huge black tentacle, the size of a small tree, emerges from the ground beneath him. It immediately lashes out, attempting to wrap the overweight Occultist up.
The black tentacles wrap themselves around Mavaro, squeezing tightly.
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Yoon crinkles her nose in disgust at the sight of the naked woman, which switches to horror when she separates her body.
"This is why I am back in this wretched country that stole my parents from me! To destroy you! This was all your fault, all these tortured souls! Now you will get your true reward!"
Yoon's anger flares up, her face turns red. As before, the sound of a roaring flame swirls around the little girl, a maelstrom of flickering light and ear splitting cracks as the heat is drawn in. With destruction in her eyes and heart, Yoon pushes her hands forward, unleashing a gout of sticky, blue flame.
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"Oh, merde alors!" Mavaro wishes he'd spent more time training at ranged combat, "This is quite the tricky situation."
Minasako resists the mental incursions of the psychic, yet she still feels a sharp pain in her brain.
From nowhere she is quickly engulfed in flame. She is used to shrugging of extreme heat and show no ill effects from the blast.
Mavaro chants the arcane words to a spell. Normally, he has parlor tricks that require no incantations, so his companions are perhaps surprised to hear him actually uttering words of magic.
"DISPEL MAGIC!" he yells.
A shocked looks appears on Minasako's face as the tentacles disappear in a blink. She slightly adjusts her positioning as a spiritual weapon flies by, barely missing her.
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The man feels the guiding hand of Estra's magical spell falling upon him, and he pauses before entering the room, waiting to draw a vial of liquid. With concentrated effort he carefully begins to unstop the container, but then realizes this will take too long, and instead shatters the vial upon his starknife.
Immediately a brilliant light erupts from his weapon.
"I'm coming, Mavaro!" he calls. "Hold on my friend!"