"Sometimes if I want to give the other guy a fighting chance," Val jokes in response to Ary's question.
Ary doesn't manage to hide her surprise as Xanderghul accepts the curse, eyebrow rising, figuring he'd have preferred to find a way of his own to get inside without accepting someone else's burden. It seemed... unlike him. Maybe the group was rubbing off on him... or maybe it was his time with the Tieflings. Regardless, it was strange to her.
"I... don't think Anevia should come down with us. Between the curse and spirits, it'd be better for you to stay up here." she says, turning to the archer. "That, and shooting in tunnels isn't really anyone's strong suit. Do you want to stay with Kule and keep lookout?"
Anevia nods. "You got it, boss. Someone's gotta watch our flank, yea?"
Variska frowns. "You alright?" she asks Xanderghul, as the curse visibly settles upon his troll-body. She glances from the ghostly sentinels, to the crypt entrance, then back to Ary. On one hand, she wasn't keen on accepting any new curses. Not when the last one almost turned her into a cannibal. On the other... treasure! "What do you want me to do?" she asks Xanderghul, at last, deciding to push the burden of deciding upon him.
"Hm. Perhaps you should stay behind as well, Lann," Ehren suggests, looking over at the crusader before he has a chance to accept the spirit's burden. Judging by the myriad linnorm curses he succumbed to, albeit temporarily, he was not likely to bear this one any more easily. There is a more practical reason, however. "If we are going to keep a rearguard, then it needs to be able to hold its own."
"Stay with Lann and Anevia, Variska," grumbles Xanderghul. "That skald might come back, and it wouldn't be good to have our backs exposed. Besides, it doesn't look like there's a lot of room down there."
Val taps her hand against the hilt of her starknife as the others arrange for a rear guard. "Agreed," Val says. "The last thing we need is for something to go wrong and find our way out cut off."
"Does anyone want me to scout?" asks Xanderghul. "With no stodgy Crusaders around, I have free reign to use the spell which projects my spirit. I could enter the tomb and look around incorporeally... but if they attack and kill me, then I'll be in poor shape."
After her pledge, Hinagiku's attention is drawn away from surveying the surroundings to Xanderghul. His mention of "stodgy Crusaders" concerned her. Ears still twitching at his words, she looks at his expression, trying to decipher it. What could he be implying?
"Mr. Xanderghul, are you trying to say that there is something bad with that spell of yours? Maybe the crusaders worries are founded, no? If so, I think we should try to find another way to scout."
"Maybe you could go but,... humm, what are you doing exactly right now? It this a ...humm... illusion?" Hinagiku asks, trying to use the right term for the type of magic while being totally clueless about the exact nature of the spell. Slowly, a sort of realization, quelled by denial aris in her mind. "You did something similar to a babau in Drezen, didn't you? Are you... are you possessing the body of this creature?" she finally asks, her brow slightly furrowed.
In answer to Hinagiku's question, Xanderghul merely nods, ignoring her point about 'the fears of the Crusaders being founded'.
Xanderghul nods. "Upon reflection, I think projecting my spirit will not work, but..." he scratches his chin again, this time more careful to avoid gouging himself with his claws, "Perhaps I could use this body to scout. If it's killed by the undead in there, then I'll just come out to my own body again."
"The only issue with that is that it may draw more attention to us than we would like. However it is still less dangerous than sending Val or I in to scout instead."
"As long as we don't know what's down there, invisibility is too risky," Val adds. "Too many demons have a way to see through it. Better to send a borrowed body than to let one of us get caught."
Xanderghul shrugs his muscular but sweaty shoulders. "I'm ok doing anything."
"I mean, the worst that can happen is that the big, smelly body you... borrowed gets zombie-fied. Which might not be fun, but probably isn't the worst thing that this place can do to us if the demon is as nasty as it sounds."
Sounds like an unusually powerful nabasu. Some nabasu evolve into a different demon known as a vrolikai in the Abyss after full maturation, however, only a small percentage of them survive the transformation. It is difficult to tell from his description if it is a vrolikai, but you do know that vrolikai have four arms, not two as normal nabasu have.
Lann nods to Ehren. "We will await your return, then."
"I... guess that's true. It's probably easy to kill a troll ghoul than a troll that might later become a ghoul." Ary agrees after a moment of consideration.
Xanderghul's nose twitches as he looks around and sees everyone studying him, trying to determine how difficult he would be to kill. "Bah," he says. "I'll go and do this just so you stop looking at me like that."
He unshoulders his own body after a few moments and looks at it. "Um," he says. "Don't let anybody kill this while I'm gone." Then he puts it down somewhere dry and marches off to the tomb.
You stride into the small tomb through its broken doors. Inside, it is dark. The stone walls within this mausoleum are engraved with images of Iomedae bearing a longsword and shield. Deep claw marks deface the engravings, and Мразь узурпатор is scrawled in caked blood and filth toward the top of the east wall.
In the center of the room is a narrow stair-well, and Xanderghul has to squeeze to pass through. The stairs themselves are covered in thousands of human bones. Skulls, ribs, arms, some of them belonging to children and infants...
The grisly sight of so many skeletons unnerves Xanderghul in his borrowed body. But he endeavors on.
Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Xanderghul's enormous troll feet render bones into dust in his wake. Hundreds of twisted, distorted faces roil in a miserable cloud outwards from the floor, screaming of their unquiet deaths. The mass of ghosts surrounds him, wailing and babbling in Hallit. Their voices echo down the stairwell and into the crypt...
Almost immediately after entering the tomb, the heroes can hear the unquiet wails of the undead echo outwards, though their voices are muffled by the downpour rain.
Isilme watches as the troll-Xanderghul heads off into the not-quite-large-enough crypt entrance. The thought of a giant troll being used for 'scouting' is entertaining enough to cause her to grin at first. The sounds coming from within quickly wipe the grin off her face as she remembers the danger the Drocha pose to the wizard.
"Take care with the Drocha, Xanderghul, their voices drive someone to die of fright," Isilme says, concerned for Xander's well-being.
Hinagiku's concern were not alleviated at all by Xanderghul's nod. Worst, him failing to answer her second question made it obvious that he was controlling a creature, possessing it, an act that only reminded her of the brief instant she had lost her own mind. And, to top it of, he was emulating the powers of the onis. She would need to speak with him once more when the occasion arise.
Hinagiku's ear orient themselves toward the entrance of the crypt as she hears the muffled sound of the undead.
"Can Mr. Xanderghul hear us through the spell or is it linked to its body?"
Hinagiku's concern were not alleviated at all by Xanderghul's nod. Worst, him failing to answer her second question made it obvious that he was controlling a creature, possessing it, an act that only reminded her of the brief instant she had lost her own mind. And, to top it of, he was emulating the powers of the onis. She would need to speak with him once more when the occasion arise.
Hinagiku's ear orient themselves toward the entrance of the crypt as she hears the muffled sound of the undead.
[dice=perception]1d20+19
"Can Mr. Xanderghul hear us through the spell or is it linked to its body?"
"He won't be able to hear us," Ehren replies, realizing that this is a bit of an oversight on their part. Even with his surrogate body, short of him shouting out for them, they would not have any way of knowing if Xanderghul is need of help.
Ary takes Xander-not-Troll's body and holds it so it won't wind up laying in the rain and dirt and mud, a bit of morbid curiosity getting the better of her, as she twists her ring, "I will shine in her legion." she intones, though her focus is on whether or not the body is cleaned by the spell.
Ary looks to the others, uncertain of why Isilme hadn't refreshed her spell before Xanderghul went in, but shrugging it off as unnecessary. It was a bit macabre to think she'd been whispering to the dead body the whole time, intending for it to reach Xandertroll.
"So... the Drocha, are they going to kill Xander-Troll, or Xander-Xander..?"
With a single twist of her ring, Ary manages to clean off Xanderghul's face, and some of his neck and shoulders. It would take a few more twists to clean his whole body, if desired.
Save or die on failed Reflex or Fortitude save = Body dies
Save or die on failed Will Save = Possessor dies
Curses = On the soul
Physical Ability damage/drain = On the body
Mental Ability damage/drain = On the mind
Negative levels = on the soul
Xanderghul presses on, intent on finding this Skulgrym before the myriad of undead bring him to his knees. He reacts quickly, pushing is way down the stairs and ignoring the various bones that he is destroying in the process. The wailing cloud of ghosts pursues him, and as he reaches the landing, he comes to the main part of the crypt. A row of six stone doors, each carved with an image of Iomedae saluting, runs along the east wall of the room. Statues of Iomedae stand in three of the room's corners, and a pair of broken stone doors lay open to his right. Hundreds more bones litter the floor here, skulls, rib-cages, pelvic bones, making it difficult to move with any great speed. As he gets his bearings, he finds that he is flanked on either side of the doors by a pair of emaciated corpses. Their skin appears charred and dried, at least what he can see underneath their plate-armor and their empty eye-sockets weep trails of foul-smelling smoke.
Xanderghul hears the creaking of their armor before they swing. He bashes away one of the blades as hard as he can, but he feels the other one bring his blade across and into his side, leaving a nasty gash. Xanderghul pulls away from the two assailants, who start to wail loudly at his presence, shrieking like banshees... these creatures were certainly not nabasu, so where was he? He gets into the middle of the room before the drocha catch up to him. He is surrounded by a cloud of gnashing teeth and screaming ghosts, draining him of his blood. Fear and panic start to cloud his senses, but he manages not to die of fright.
The two corpses give the drocha swarm a wide berth, choosing to instead stand in place and wail, staring him down with a fervent intensity...
Xanderghul groans as he feels his very soul cry out as the two corpses attempt to devour it where he stands. Memories flash across his mind, unbidden, and not even his - memories of being captured and tortured by demons, forced to watch as your team-mates are sacrificed, one by one, to fuel foul demonic rites. Xanderghul's soul of course, is ultimately a fabrication, and will be restored by his very own body after a sufficient amount of time... but his soul-stuff is ultimately, finite.
The corpse creatures are bodaks. When mortal humanoids find themselves exposed to profound, supernatural evil, a horrific, occult transformation can strip them of their souls and damn them to the tortured existence of a bodak. Changed into a twisted, misanthropic husk, a bodak wanders the endless tracts of evil-aligned planes, periodically stumbling into other realms by passing through portals or otherwise being conjured elsewhere. Bodaks are incredibly common on the Abyss, though because of Abyssal influence, they also form in the Worldwound.
Bodaks are most known for their deadly gaze. They gaze saps the very soul of a creature, and any creature who dies from the Bodak's gaze, becomes a Bodak themselves.
Bodaks are generally ambush predators. They are slow, and relatively weak, and so they rely on their gaze to kill others. Some rare bodaks however, possess some memories and knowledge of their former lives, and are much more deadly. Finally, bodaks loathe sunlight, for its merest touch burns their impure flesh.
Bodaks vehemently despise all living creatures and immediately seek to destroy any they encounter. A bodak retains the ability to speak one language it knew in life (typically Common), but it rarely engages in conversation, instead spitting out an incomprehensible stream of vile accusations, curses, and threats. On occasion, a bodak might wield weapons, but most rely primarily upon the effects of their deadly gaze. Bodaks are rarely encountered outside of the Abyss. As they are slow-witted, powerful evil creatures such as liches and nabasu demons sometimes use bodaks as thralls, assassins, or guardians. Bodaks encountered on the Material Plane exude extreme malevolence when forced to confront the realization of their abhorrent transformations. So great is their desire to force their fate upon others that many attempt to drag off the bodies of their slain victims and guard them until they rise as undead.
Although rather dim-witted, bodaks possess both a low cunning and animalistic instincts that let them know when daylight approaches or living creatures are nearby. A bodak is savvy enough to know when it is outnumbered or facing more powerful foes, at which point it switches from direct assault to silent stalking, waiting for the right moment to attack individuals away from the protection of the group. Some have been known to wield weapons, but most prefer to rely solely on their gaze, as merely killing a creature is nothing compared to sharing its horrible gift.
Bodaks are tortured creatures, driven by endless sorrow, terrible longing, and an extreme bitterness and jealousy toward the living. Bodaks lack even the malevolent joy that fiends seem to feel when tormenting and killing mortal creatures. Only by forcing living creatures to gaze into their eyes and perish do they find anything resembling relief, although that too is very short lived, forcing the bodak to find even more victims in an endless cycle. Some bodaks are so overwhelmed by their desire to turn the living into more of their kind that they drag off victims of their deadly gazes to secluded places in order to watch over the transformation and make sure nothing interrupts it. Once the new bodak arises, however, its creator typically loses interest, leaving the spawn on its own. In rare instances, however, bodaks band together in small units called gangs. This does not seem to reflect any true sense of companionship, but is most common when a bodak kills either a former loved one or the person who led it to the point of its original transformation—the bond between them is now twisted together into hate and loathing, but still unbreakable.
When given the opportunity, many bodaks return to the places that once brought them comfort and joy in their mortal lives, following their fragmented memories to destroy their loved ones and acquaintances with their deadly gazes. Astute investigators can sometimes deduce the former identity of a bodak based on the trail of dead and missing persons, especially if the bodak is the spawn of an attack rather than the result of unholy visions. Yet ultimately, a bodak wanders with little control over where it ends up, and those who succumb far from home rarely make it back, simply taking what victims they can find.
Scholars and theologians have long debated the exact nature of these strange undead, positing that it’s the very act that creates a bodak—witnessing some evil and hideous occurrence beyond all mortal capacity for understanding—that gives unholy life and purpose to these creatures. In some sense, the bodak is the very manifestation of such an act, a curse upon the living, its life force scarred to such a degree that only causing others to gaze into its eyes and share its agony gives it some sort of relief. Most researchers believe that mundane evil is not enough, arguing that only traumatic deaths in the darkest pits of the planes are pure enough to form a bodak, with the creature’s animating energy being drawn from the evil Outer Planes where it met its fate. Yet others insist that it’s not the place that causes the transformation, but rather the purity of the evil and horror involved, thus making it possible for an ordinary human (or, more likely, a summoned demon) to spark the transformation, provided the horrors it shows to the victim are heinous enough. Regardless, such quibbles are academic and unimportant in the face of the dangerous creatures themselves.
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Xanderghul roars out with pain and frustration. As much as he wished to push on, he knew that mere moments later he could be instantly killed by the undead creatures within the tomb, so he releases his hold on the troll, leaving the poor creature in the tomb to die.
He gasps awake on Ary's shoulders, partially clean. "F!$!ing Nine Hells," he says. "Can we just... not go in there?"
Ehren raises an eyebrow, surprised to see Xanderghul back in his own body so soon. Given the troll's regenerative capabilities, he had thought that it would hold up longer. The horrors lurking within had to be truly fearsome to evoke this kind of response from the wizard.
"So it is that bad," he remarks unnecessarily, looking back in the direction of the crypt with a grim expression. Somewhere deep down, he could feel Alrys's curse demanding that he enter. "Did you see Skulgrym? What exactly are we up against?"
Xanderghul gets to his feet, clutching his chest. He takes a deep breath before straightening up and regaining his composure. "I couldn't make it to Skulgrym. The first room is guarded by a pair of bodak. They can drain away a person's lifeforce with great rapidity using only their deadly gazes. They would have killed me outright, troll body or no, if I had stayed even another moment."
"There are also the undead swarms that Isilme theorized about - the drocha. I believe they appear if you disturb the remains scattered everywhere around on the floor." He huffs a breath. "And the ground is broken and covered in debris, making it difficult for a person to move."
"So just going down there is going to be going straight into the thick of it," Val says, crossing her arms and scowling. "This is going to be one of the fun missions I guess. Are you alright? Did they get you at all?"
Xanderghul nods. "I am alright. They got me, but my soul is a fake. It can rebuild itself."
"Bodaks tend to be either ambush predators or pets of powerful other creatures. Gaze attacks tend to be short range, or foiled by just... not looking at them, yeah? So if we're willing to fight them in the dark, or close our eyes, they're a lot less dangerous. Alternately... we could probably lure them out, since it's storming. They hate being reminded that they're undead, and also seek to wipe out all nearby life. So, we could possibly taunt them to give chase to one of us and then ambush them outright. They're not... particularly clever, most of the time. And they're not particularly deadly if their gaze won't affect us."
"I don't suppose our druid of the Green can... make the storms go away once they're out in the open, so we can use the sun against them?" Ary says, offering a smile not carrying much in the way of hope.
"If I could control the weather, do you really think we would be standing in this?" Ehren asks with a wry grin, his hair suddenly whipping across his face as though to accentuate his point. Brushing it out of the way, he looks over at Xanderghul and ponders his statement. As always, he is so... casual about it.
"How resilient are they? Perhaps we can simply destroy them before they have the chance to wear away our souls. I could summon some beasts or elementals to hasten the process."
The presence of bodaks in the tombs beneath along with the drocha posed a serious threat, but a manageable. What worried Isilme the most, however, was the possibility that those were not the worst thing that awaited them below, the demon notwithstanding. "Agreed Ary, but we should prepare for other threats as well then. Ehren, are you capable of warding us from death effects at all? I suspect those will not be the only thing down there to make use of them. Having at least one of us protected would be beneficial I believe."
"It would take a considerable amount of power, but I could cast death ward on one of us," Ehren answers. "I do not otherwise have it prepared. We would have to make it count."
Külə flicks his tail. "Yes, try to avert your gaze by staring at the floor or ceiling, to protect yourself. But unfortunately doing so will make it difficult to fight them off," he says, standing out in the downpour rain.
"I think that warding one of us is... almost necessary. It'll keep us safer, yeah?" Ary asks Ehren, "Especially since it means one of us will be able to get into the thick of it without getting really injured, and will help us take things down quickly. Since we know that Skulgrym is going to be devastating for people in melee, we should probably focus on making Val capable of bringing him down safely. Ary says rolling her shoulder. "How cramped were the tunnels overall, Xander?"
"While I appreciate not having my soul ripped out, are you sure I'm the best choice? You or Daisy will also be in close and trying to fight the things."
As Valaria voices her worries, Hinagiku reaches for the blindfold weaved into the lace of her holy symbol and says: "If Mrs. Valaria is given Ehren kun's protection, I can go with her. I haven't told you, but this holy item was sent to me by my master as a gift. If I put it around my eyes, it should protect me against their gaze while allowing me to fight normally. It is something I have never tried, but I believe it will work. Hopefully, that would be enough to protect me. And so, we can fight together without worrying that these creatures might steal my soul."
Ehren eyes Hinagiku's blindfold curiously, making a mental note to ask her about it later. Preferably when it isn't storming and they aren't surrounded by the restless dead. Perhaps over a cup of hot tea? The druid shakes his head, refocusing on the matter at hand. Hinagiku could likely resist any attempts to afflict her soul.
"Hm. Valaria has a point. And considering what we are up against, you might be in more danger than any of us, Ary," Ehren remarks, pointing to her tabard. Not to mention her sword, her shield, her armor... together they all scream "crusader." Not only that, but if she puts as much effort into protecting the rest of them as she usually does, then she is bound to draw the enemy's attention. As usual. "I will place the ward on you. It won't guarantee your safety, but you will be much better off."
"Right... and death ward is one of the shorter spells, right? So... once we cast it and start moving, we need to keep moving until everything is dead, then worry about everything else?"
"Ary, Hinagiku, you should use heroism before we head down. We cannot afford to hold back now given what we know is down there."
Isilme incants heroism on herself, opting to conserve her power to enhance spells later on. It was likely she would need it when they faced the bodaks.
"I am prepared when you all are," she says to the group.
"The hallways were around ten feet wide... the stairwell, a bit narrower," responds Xanderghul to Ary's question. "So, too cramped for a giantess, if that's what you were thinking," he says with a wry grin.
Variska rests the tip of her bastard sword into the mud in front of her, leaving both hands on the hilt of her weapon. She sighs and gets ready to get comfortable when a horrific swarm of demonic rats bursts out from underneath a nearby house, apparently trying to escape the deluge of rain. The mutated creatures suffer from various mutations: spikes, bulbous tumors, even enormous, blinking eyes on their backs or buttocks. "Augh! Gods, this place f+%~ing sucks," she curses, squishing one of the rats under her armored boot. The roiling, squeaking mass of rats surges past her and through the walls of the northern watch tower. "Ugh. Well. We'll be out here waiting for you all. Try not to die."
Once Ehren casts death ward on Ary, the heroes head off into the crypt, understanding that even the archdruid's ward would wane eventually. The surrounding cemetery is an easily recognizable part of what was once the small village of Sesker's Gully, and amid the old gravestones, the Bishop mausoleum remains one of the largest fully intact structures in town. The twin stone and bronze doors that once sealed the mausoleum have been smashed apart, while the family name chiseled above the entrance has been splattered with blood and filth.
Within, the stone walls are engraved with images of Iomedae, bearing a longsword and shield. Deep claw marks deface the engravings, and the phrase Грязный узурпатор is scrawled in caked old blood and filth towards the top of the far wall.
Stone stairs in the center of the room lead downward to a short passageway that opens into the proper family crypt. Here, a row of six stone doors, each carved with an image of Iomedae with a sword and shield, runs along the opposite wall of the room. Statues of Iomedae also stand in three of the rooms corners, they are all defaced. However, much to the heroes' horror, the crypt is completely filled with human remains. Bones of skeletal ribcages, skulls, and limbs litter the floor. Looking closely at them, some of the remains are far too small - children, even infants, number amongst the dead.
Valaria and Isilme lead the way, as they did before, and as soon as they stumble down the stairs and into the next room, they can hear the moaning of the bodaks within!
There are two emaciated, charred creatures. One wears full plate and wields a glowing longsword and shield, and the other across from it, a hide pelt, though it has no other weapons. Both bodaks have horrific, empty eyes that seep a foul-smelling smoke, and their mouths stretch open, far wider than any jaw has any right stretching. They were ready and waiting for them both, and lunge at Valaria and Isilme... but both women see the attacks coming, and duck behind the entryway as soon as they see signs of movement within the crypt.
Initiative Order
Round 1!
25. Bodak #1, Bodak #2
25. Valaria
20. Ehren
9. Isilme
6. Hinagiku
5. Xanderghul
4. Ary
The bodaks continue to wail as they focus their attacks on Valaria and Isilme. The bodak next to Valaria swings once. With deft skill its blade snakes past Ary's shield, drawing blood... meanwhile Isilme turns out to be far luckier, her enemy's claws raking through her clothing rather than her flesh.
The Heroes Are up!
After quickly downing her potion, Hinagiku ties Transcendent Sight around her head. Eyes covered, she needs to take in a few deep breaths before she is able to sense, very subtly the surround ripples of the world. Carefully, she follows the others, prepared to go to the front when they reach the bottom of the stairs. But they come much too quickly, leaving her at the rear while her allies are ambushed.
In flowing motions, she weaves through her allies, and into the bone covered ground. Thanks to the blurry effect of the blindfold, Hinagiku only has to deal with the sickening crunch under her feet.
And then, in a burst of speed, she crosses the ground in between the two looming bodaks to find herself right behind the unarmored one.
Upon entering the crypt for a second time, Xanderghul calls upon his powers once again to try and eliminate the creatures before them as quickly as possible. He summons energy directly from the shadow realm, concentrating it into a bead of fire energy, which he launches at the bodaks (and Valaria and Isilme). However, when the bead of fire bursts into a conflagration, the fire warps and twists around Valaria and Isilme's forms, sparing them from the worst of the harm.
Valaria, Ehren, Isilme, and Ary are up!
Taking Isilme's advice, Ary pulls the Lucerne Hammer from her pack, and intones "I will strive to emulate Iomedae's Perfection." She returns both the cloakpin and the hammer to their proper places. Then, as the party begins filing into the vault, Ary waits for Ehren's ward before heading inside.
Ary frowns at all of the death and decay and rot... the only solution to cleaning this would be to either make dozens of trips, filling and refilling their bags of holding... or to bring a crew out here to work on cleaning and consecrating the place. The latter was the long-term solution, as they needed to develop outposts outside of Drezen anyway...
With a slow, annoying crunch with each footfall, Ary moves down and through her allies, opening the way for them to move safely ahead. She only barely manages to realize she's putting herself into a flanked position as she brings her shield directly at the Bodak that had attacked Isilme, hammering it away from herself and into the nearest wall, leaving a holy-symbol shaped scar in its ashen flesh. "Bring it down, quickly!"
Valaria, Ehren, and Isilme are up!
"Son of a f*cking..." Val trails off cursing as the bodak's jump them from both sides of the doorway. She trails off, feeling vaguely nauseous as she sees the piles of bones and hastily averts her eyes from the undead monster's gaze. She grits her teeth and drives her knife forward, attempting to stab the bodak in front of her and Isilme.