Kaloora doesn't trust the chained longshanks! - the goblin whispers to his companions - And Kaloora never saw intelligent speaking ghoul!
The goblin approaches near the Dwarf, but his hands seem to move - ready to cast a spell, probably.
"no, ghouls don't talk I don't think."
"Maybe, tadpole", said Belrim to the grippli. "But it was eating the flesh off the dead guy in the middle, so Was Argade got moved up in priority of being killed", said the dwarf, pointing at the ghoul with his heavy pick.
"Wait!" yelled thral.
"Belrim, maybe the ghoul has information we could use maybe if, we're betrayed we can sick the ghoul on our "allies". If it comes to that."
The Western Door
Yellow sheets speaks again, "Words fail..."
Was Argade though begins to snarl as if his momentary control once again is beginning to slip away.
Wait! Ghoul thing! Ghoul longshanks! We friends. We mean no harm. Give more words!
The Western Door
Argade's growling ceases, "Friends, you still my friends after... after..."
Thral is unnerved by the strange creature, having never encountered one.
Whispering to Belrim,"I don't know if it's best to kill it, maybe we can stuff the room full of corpses?"
Thral looks at the chalk mark on the man's head.
'What could this be?'
"What do you mean words fail? Are you taking about the ghoul? Who are you?" He addresses the man in the piss stained looking robes.
Argade! - the goblin asks, approaching but keeping a safe distance - Even after what...? What happened?
Grendl cautions Kaloora... "Don't get too close lest you become food." He heeds his own words and doesn't approach the Argade.
The Western Door
The piss stained man replies to Thrl's question, "Zandalus sees!"
Argade replies to Kaloora, "I was a patient h.. here. Then the monsters with the grey faces captured us after things went wrong... I woke up and found myself here like this. I...I.. don't want to die".
Thral looks at the Argade,"I won't kill you, I don't want to fight you, just the "Grey faces".
Thral looks at the stained man perhaps more confused than before."Are you Zandalus? What does Zandalus see?"
You ghoul now! You dead already! - says Kaloora, confused with Argade's words. The goblin follows Grendl's instructions and keeps his distance. He waits for Zandalus' answers to Thral.
The longer this conversation continues, the more Belrim thinks it's a waste of time. Agitation rolls across the dwarf's face, eyes fixed on the ghoul.
The Western Door
"Words Fail.." the man replies to Thral.
Argade's voice seems hollow, "I.. I'm dead..."
Kaloora doesn't understand how Ghoul is smart, though. - he says, approaching Belrim and Grendl - Something wrong. Eyes might be fooling us. Don't know what to do. Who is Grey Faces?
Keeping his eyes locked on the ghoul, Belrim muses, "Gray Faces sounds like shapeshifters, or at least when they're dead."
The Western Door
The ghoul begins to weep, pus and blood ooze from his tear ducts, "Please help me...."
The other hanging human turns to the Ghoul, "Zandalus sees!"
The dwarf expression softens slightly. Belrim takes a step forward, yet still out of the reach of the ghoul.
"I can help you. I can take the pain away. For me to help you, I ask that you face the far corner, and close your eyes. Then, and only then, I will end your pain."
Thral starts puffing his chest, drawing as much air as possible.
"By the dragon god's balls, shut up!"
He turns to the group."do ghouls have a good sense of smell? If so he can hunt the Gray faces." asks and suggests Thral.
Under his breath, Belrim growls at the kobold, "Undead don't breathe, so they can't smell! Now, shh!"
"Let the dwarf help you, if you're in so much pain Argade."
Belrim walks upon behind the ghoul, heavy pick in hand. Quickly steadying his stance, the dwarf slams the heavy pick down on the undead's skull.
What remains of the ghoul lays motionless on the floor.
"We could of used him, there are enough corpses outside that could of sated the beast. Surely he would of wanted revenge." Thral hisses at Belrim.
With his back to the kobold, Belrim quietly slipped the heavy pick back into it's shoulder sheath behind his backpack.
The dwarf took a long breath, and quickly moved in front of Thral, bending down to position his face mere inches from the kobold.
"The poor bastard had enough of his mind to realize what he became, do you understand?! The horror that was beginning to dawn in Argade's mind?! The mindnumbing realization of what he had ..and what he was And wanted to use what was left of his shattered psyche as a hound, flushing out ferrets in a hole the ground?! It was for Mercy's sake, that I ended Argade's wretched existence!! But that didn't occur to you and your cold, draconic heart, huh You only saw him not as a tortured soul, but a resource, to be , like all your kind has done since the making of Golarion!!"
Belrim did not leave Thral's face, almost daring him to retort or attack.
"Easy for you to say Belrim, your people are a nasty warlike, dwarf. Killing kobolds for their mines. You're no better than my dragon. In fact they have nobility." Thral stares into Belrims eyes with the intensity of a great wyrm, presenting his fangs.
"Maybe he could of found meaning in his new life. He surely could of granted him revenge and he could of regained his honour. We have no leads, kill the other one while you're at it, clearly his mind is lost too." Thral points to the man spouting gibberish.
Kaloora seemed more frustrated to not have understood much about the ghoul, than by the fact Belrim decided to end it.
Kaloora doesn't know who's worst! Trigger-happy Dwarf proud using his big weapons against who can't defend, or bitter kobold trying to use creature already locked in cursed existence to be thrown in an even worse one as a... Ugh! Dog of sorts. And longshanks say Goblins are evil!
The goblin scratched his own face, then continued.
Kaloora thinks at least now he might be able to properly rest. - he completes, looking at the ghoul - Even if it doesn't solve the issue we actually have at hand. What about Zandalus-that-sees?
Belgrim stares back into Thral's face.
Kaloora thinks at least now he might be able to properly rest. - he completes, looking at the ghoul - Even if it doesn't solve the issue we actually have at hand. What about Zandalus-that-sees?
The dwarf was ready to go off on the goblin, too, until he realized that, after a fashion, Kaloora agreed that Argade needed to properly rest.
Belrim snapped out of his anger to deal with the next problem Kaloora reminded him of. Standing up straight, giving a last glare at Thral, willing to table this discussion of racial animosity for now, walked closer to the crazy yellow sheet man to consider him closely."Okay, Zandalus, or whatever. As you can see, I don't have any patience left. I don't like you, and I sure as Hell don't trust you, so you better start making sense!!"
"well I suppose that's one way to help him. Still feel like it was a sad end for him. As for zanndalus, perhaps he's just lost his mind due to what he's witnessed. No need I think to smoosh him too." Grendl shrugs and waits to see what the group consensus might be.
The Western Door
The hanging human looks to the now destroyed Ghoul and back at the group, "Words fail..."
"I'm fine with him staying here. He's obviously a patient", comments Belrim.
The Western Door
Sturdy racks and toppled tables suggest this space once served as a sizable laundry. Much of the northern end of the room is filled with rubble.
A wall of pipelike crossbeams fills the western alcove of this room. It is to these that the last survivor is yet chained.
To the south of this room is another door.
As Thral steps back to the door that enters the laundry room, he spies another set of double doors about 40' north to the eastern side of the hallway. The gloom of this building and his current position does not allow him to see further at this time.
The place is still quiet, the only exception the whispers of the man in yellow who mumbles the same three phrases again and again with no discernible pattern or meaning.
The dwarf leaves the crazy man to his fate, and leaves, walking behind Thral.
Thral turns back to his companions, whispering to them.
"Release the mad man, let winter's group deal with him. He will only give away our position." The jaded kobold walks out the door way.
"You know, He's crazy maybe, but he doesn't deserve being left like that... something will come along and eat him... we should at least free him so he can defend himself."
Looking to the grippli, Belrim concedes, "You may have a point there, Grendl. Let's walk him back to Winter and the other shapeshifters," the dwarf chagrined.
Kaloora nods his head in agreement.
Yes, let's take madman-that-sees to Winter.
The goblin is a little apprehensive, but doesn't say anything; in his thoughts, he wonders if the smart-ghoul was another friend of them, and how they'd react to the news that he had been killed. Yet, they weren't the ones who killed the guy, but freed him... So what's the worst that can happen?
Thral turns back his head overhearing the rest of the group.
"સારી વિચારના ગડબડ કહેવાની રમૂજી રીત. દહાક તમને લઈ જાય છે!" He says, hissing and shaking his head, entering the hallway.
The Southern Double Doors of the Laundry Room
The group frees the man to a response of, "Zandalus sees!" You point him in the direction of Winter's people then stay within this room to explore the southern double doors.
They are locked.
Not understanding the hissing tongue of dragons, Belrim mutters,
Koloora and Grendl mention there is a door back in the room that wasn't been searched.
Walking back in, giving Thral the slightest of nudges, the dwarf examines the double doors.
Are any of you good at lockpicking", questions Belrim.
Grendl shrugs... "not me, sorry."
Kaloora not good at it either..., says the goblin, already wondering if the Dwarf was simply going to try to smash the door open. Kaloora had understood what Thral said, but simply pretended not to and ignored the kobold.
Maybe Thral has abilities for that! - he completes, though, trying to bring the attention of the clever godling.
"I can open locks, it will be hard without tools."
Thral makes his way to the locked door, looking through the keyhole. He grabs his trust dagger, inserting into the keyhole trying to jerry rig it
The Southern Double Doors of the Laundry Room
Thral manages more to break than pick the lock, the dagger did its job!
As you open the door, several wide tables and gigantic washbasins fill a laundry equipped to service hundreds. The place looks as though it were repurposed as a failed surgery, though, with at least one table heaped with remains while corpses lie discarded in corners. A stained sheet hangs between two of the basins, dividing the room roughly in half. A lantern shines on the far side.
Upon another table is the form a human female lying still.
Silhouetted behind the curtain is the form of a doppelganger!
"Oh, not good."
Unsheathing his heavy pick from his back, Belgrim slowly creeps to the inhuman figure behind the curtain.
There we go again! - says the goblin spellcaster, and his hands immediately start forming a cold smoke - More grey things!