Mach's blades flash in rapid succession as he stabs at the maggot-beast.
Although Petronicus and Um'bala fail to hurt the devilish creature, Milo and Mach's careful attacks damage it severely. It flails around desperately, now bleeding pus from multiple stab wounds.
Standing Bear moves forward, keeping quiet, still unaccustomed to fighting next to the group...or any group for that matter. Other than the group in his head.
Quintus moves up to see if he can help, but since he heard about the creature's resistances, he keeps back and does not cast a spell.
The Abyssal creature takes a bite at Standing Bear as he moves up next to it, taking a nasty bite that hisses as the acid disintegrates the Shoanti's skin ...
) , , ar takes 11 hp of damage (2 is acid).
... followed by another attack on the Shoanti. , hit! ,
Petronicus hacks at the Abyssal larva, trying to hit it as accurately as possible. , hit!
The creature slumps under Petronicus' blow and stops to move.
Milo strikes again!
Petronicus walks over to Milo and pulls him off the dying creature. "There, there, now, Milo, I think he's dead."
He then turns back to Standing Bear who received the worst. "Ouch, that looks painful. I think the healing wand will get some use today!"
Among the challenges of being small in a fight against a giant creature like this awful worm-thingy is that it is sometimes impossible to see what is occurring on the other side of its mass in the midst of a melee.
Accordingly, Milo only realizes Petronicus's killing blow after his Temple Blade sinks into the creature's mass. When the Chelaxian walks around to 'help' him he is in the process of withdrawing his weapon looking at the filth drenched blade with disgust.
Pulling out a handkerchief and a water skin to clean it he looks up and gives the warrior a wink and a grin, "I shall take that under advisement, Petronicus. Thank you.
He glances at Standing Bear sympathetically, relieved to see the Spirit Speaker is standing despite his wounds, and then turns to the statue, "Anyone know who that is? Might she have anything to do with this 'damned soul from hell's' presence here?"
He glances at Standing Bear sympathetically, relieved to see the Spirit Speaker is standing despite his wounds, and then turns to the statue, "Anyone know who that is? Might she have anything to do with this 'damned soul from hell's' presence here?"
Petronicus cleans off the blade of his polearm as he walks over to the red statue, walking around it until he can see her face.
"Hmm, this seems to be the Runelord Alaznist, although Mr. History could probably tell you more, since he's the one with the Shard." he mutters, gesturing at Um'Bala. "Alaznist was the runelord of Wrath, if memory serves, and she ruled ... um ... Bakrakhan, which this part of Varisia once was known as. Well hello now, what is this?"
Petronicus approaches the statue carefully, taking particular attention to look at the ranseur it is holding. "That's a real, functioning ranseur made of cold iron. And a very nice one at that."
Shakes his head as he looks at the weapon. "Shall we pull it free? I don't want to cause any problems by removing an artifact. Awaken angry spirits, or the like?"
Petronicus shakes his head. "Yeah, I'm loathe to grab at something that once belonged to a runelord without know what we're dealing with first. Um'bala, Quintus, any ideas?"
Milo agrees with trending opinion given that he has no insight into magical stuff whether divine or otherwise.
While the conversation is ongoing he begins looking around the room listening at both doors in an attempt to get a sense of what might else might be under the slime and rot and what might be forthcoming.
In between the arguments of his party members, Milo's sensitive ears hears a the sound of a fire's dull crackle coming through the door to the west, while through the doorway to the east, he can hear distant, slow footsteps that sound with an unnatural regularity.
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"I don't think there are any spirits to anger here, Standing Bear," Um'bala says after he examines the statue and its weapon closely. "The weapon is, as Petronicus noted, made of cold iron, and has been enchanted in the usual Thassilonian methods. You'll find it guides itself to your enemy a bit easier and cut them a bit deeper. The statue has some divinatory magics upon it, which suggest it was either a guardian or a focus for scrying, most likely when Alaznist was active, but any powers it may once have had have been lost to the passage of time."
Hearing a fire's crackle was one thing, but hearing footsteps is quite another. Upon nothing them he heads back to the group as Um'bala finishes his explication of the ranseur.
Moving into the center of the group as only a halfling may he clears his voice making just enough noise to get everyone's attention, but no more than than conversation had been making up to this point, and speaks in a voice lower than they have been using, "Look fellows, a bit of news: behind the westerly door I made out what I think is the crackle of a fire.
"A bit more of a concern is from behind the easterly one: footsteps. They're not directly behind seeming to be a bit distant -- and a bit of an irregular tread; however, there's somebody traipsing about not too terribly far west of here."
After Um'bala gives him the go-ahead, Petronicus walks over to the statue and tries to slide it out. After a few heaves and pulls, he puts down his backpack and other weapons to stand up on the statue's pedestal to get a better grip.
The weapon still doesn't budge.
He strains again, trying to pull it loose ...
... but to no avail.
Petronicus then jumps off the pedestal, wiping his sweaty brow with a rag. "Well, that's impossible, it can't be done!"
Mach nods at Milo and hops up to try and pull the weapon loose.
He tries sliding the weapon up and out of the statue's grip.
After a strong pull, the ranseur comes free in Mach's hand.
Petronicus whips around and glares at the tiefling.
Mach just gives him a confused look.
"I think you were trying too hard." He hands the ranseur off and stands off to the side.
Petronicus grabs the polearm out of Mach's hands to take a closer look at it.
"I just loosened it for you, is all. Now what was that about steps?"
Shaking his head, he had planned on doing just what Mach did, but instead he just spins the Earthbreaker in his hand and nods to nothing.
"Indeed, we need to handle what tribulations may come," he says with a nod to Petronicus.
Milo's interest in the ranseur continues to diminish as the efforts are made by the Chelaxian and Tiefling, though he does appreciate the ending.
When Petronicus speaks to him he replies, "I heard some. That and the sound a fire behind the other door indicates that something more than Mites are here. Perhaps whomever invited that devil slug we just killed? I don't know...
"Would you like to investigate?"
After hefting the cold iron ranseur, Petronicus moves about a bit with it, swinging it to and fro, but keeping it well away from his companions. He grimaces once or twice with annoyance as he does this and finally takes off his backpack again, placing it on the ground next to the statue. He then takes out a climber's kit, 50' of silk rope, and the second-story harness he took off the robbers and places it next to the statue.
"I'm too heavy with all this stuff plus the ranseur. I'll leave this hear for now. I'm guessing from the disgusting state of the room that nothing has interrupted our fiendish friend here for quite some time, so there's a good chance that whoever is down here knows to leave the room alone. Hopefully no one will chance by and take off with it."
After rearranging everything in his backpack again, he puts it back on his shoulders, and then turns to Milo, hearing his voice. He listens to his question then comments: "Yeah, I'd rather not meet anything that can summon a summoner from Hell, thank you very much. I'm guessing that even something as pitiful as that thing is hard to bring to this plane permanently, eh Um'bala?"
At Milo's second question he nods. "I think I'd rather investigate the fire. I'm getting a chill in this place."
Milo shrugs, "Well, okay... Who knows how long that thing's been here, though. It could've been decades or more, no?
"I guess my though is whether avoiding whomever or whatever is stomping around somewhere behind the eastern door now make it easier to confront them later?
"I mean, if there is another fight somewhere behind the door with the firepit and then we must face our limping friend we'll probably not be in better shape, will we?"
Petronicus shrugs, and replaces the ranseur he's been holding with his own guisarme. "I think we'll be facing fights no matter which way we turn, Mr. Bandersnatch."
He then looks at both the halfling and Mach. "Do either of you want to sneak ahead to scout, or shall we just forge ahead together?"
"I'll go." Mach says as he goes to investigate the footsteps.
He promptly stubs his toe as he leaves. A harsh string of Abyssal invectives escapes his lips as he goes.
Petronicus smirks at the tiefling's bumbling. "Might want to try that again, sir."
Milo can not help but feel that avoiding a fight now, particularly one that 'sounds' as if it will not be insignificant is an error, but Krupt has more sway, so there is not much more he can do.
He ignores Mach's misstep as he picks up the climbing gear that the Chelaxian dropped, "Never know when this might come in handy."
Petronicus notices the halfling picking up the gear he placed next to the statue. "Hey Bandersnatch, that's my stuff! What are you doing with it? I left it there for a reason."
When the Chelaxian barks at him Milo looks up and responds in a tone similar to one used when speaking to a willful child, "Forgive me, but from your words I understood you to be leaving this here because you did not wish to bear the additional weight.
"It seems to me that as we do not know anything beyond the presence of a fire and a heavy, limping being beyond these doors it might come in useful.
"I have a load that would permit me to bear it, so I am willing to do so, and I shall be happy to return it to your possession at the first possible opportunity.
"Unless you would rather it sit here in the filth until such time as we return?"
Petronicus waves his hand, dismissing the halfling. "Whatever, if you feel like lugging the stuff around, fine."
He then turns around and walks over to the doorway heading east, grumbling under his breath the whole time.
"Don't like people touching my stuff. Why can't those slips keep their hands where they belong? Thieving rats, all of them!"
Milo's first thought is to use the climbing gear to entangle Petronicus and leave him sucking the filthy floor. He could adapt his order's 'Autumn's Gale' move to do it. But that is not the way of Windsong Abby.
He hears the Abbess's voice in his head, We are pacific like the ocean on a calm day when the wind whistles gently across it. But like that ocean when the wind roars we rise and sink whatever dares endanger us. The difference between us and the ocean is that we master the tempo of the wind's song, thus we do not endanger those that do not endanger us.
Nevertheless, antipathy burbles within him as he settles the now heavier pack on his back. The Chelaxian seems to inspire anger in him even when he does not intend to do so. Or maybe he always does?
Taking a deep breath as the party moves forwards he uses his order's teachings more authentically and whistles, in a very low tone, a sound koan to turn that energy into something more useful.
A few steps later he looks up again refreshed. Somewhat. Enough.
"I'll go." Mach says as he goes to investigate the footsteps.
He promptly stubs his toe as he leaves. A harsh string of Abyssal invectives escapes his lips as he goes.
This time Mach is significantly more successful, quietly opening the door to the east and slipping through without making a noise. Past the door is a short corridor that opens up into a room of some sort. At the far end of the room, two creatures are patrolling, holding spears in their clawed hands. They have vaguely humanoid with waxy, almost liquid flesh that hangs from their twisted bones in ropey strands. They move in perfect synchronicity and don't seem to be aware of the tiefling.
Waits patiently outside for Mach's recon.
Mach returns and explains what he saw. "Couple of waxy-looking things--moving in perfect time with each other. Carrying spears."
"If Mach and I go first we might go first we might manage to get in close. If you saw no missile weapons the rest of you could charge.
"Or do you want to take a look first, Um'bala?"
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"I can do that," the wizard says after a moment's thought. "I have a minor magic I can cast to hide myself from their sight for long enough to get an idea on what we're facing. If they somehow notice me, though, I'm coming right back here - no way I'm going to try to take on a room of wax golems or whatever by myself!"
Um'bala makes it into the room to the east and back out with little trouble, completely avoiding detection.
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Um'bala is thankful that the creatures can't see him, as he breaks out into a cold sweat as soon as he sees them - gaunt and terrifying. He silently retreats, fading into view next to the party again.
"Nupperibos," he says quietly, his voice cracking slightly as he reports. "They're devils, though only just. They're unintelligent creatures, so perfect for guarding an area that's supposed to be abandoned. I've never really encountered them before, so that's all I really know about them. I imagine they have the standard devil package - need magic weapons to hurt them, are immune to fire and several other elements, and so on. Anyone have better intel on them?" He glances over to Petronicus, then quickly away as he thinks better of it.
Milo has learned more about creatures from other planes in the past few days than he had learned in all the years of his life up to now. He too looks questioningly at the Chelaxian.
Petronicus nods at Um'bala. "The wizard is in the right. You need aligned weapons to hurt these beasts, however, and since they are basically mindless, spells that target brains do little to nothing. Oh, and they also are resistant to cold and acid. I say we just rush them and take them out. From what my uncle has told me, they are not terribly dangerous."
Relieved by Petronicus's analysis of the creatures' threat Milo nods in agreement, "Very well. I am ready!"
Mach shrugs and readies his weapons.
And when the beasties beat us to a pulp, I'll remind you that you said they weren't very dangerous.
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"Oof, holy weapons," Um'bala says, wincing at the prospect. "That's a bit outside my abilities, and their fire resistance knocks out a few of the spells I have prepared. I'll try to assist with some telekinetic attacks, then - I don't think they're resistant to mystical force."
Note to self, Um'bala thinks to himself. Figure out some more ways to deal with devils and demons - the Runelords did love their extraplanar guardians.