"We all ate too much before we went to bed? And have overactive imaginations? How would I know what my sleeping mind was doing, while I'm sleeping?" Damien retorts weakly. But the retort sounds weak and hollow, even to him. 'No. There is an explanation for all this. We got kidnapped, ended up in this crazy place. We just need to find a way out of here, and everything will be back to normal.'He takes a deep breath to calm himself. 'Bella's waiting for me for dinner back home. Yes. Focus on that.'
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Faust listens to the possible explanations.
"This is all so strange. One possibility is some kind of vaporized hallucinogen...an alchemical reaction if you will. This yellow mist could be a weapon utilized by this face-changing monster to lure people into his trap! Here where we stand! Maybe he didn't keep enough gas on us, and we woke up. That could explain how we all got here without knowing each other before."
Faust smiles at Damien, glad to have another fellow here, though he had never met him before, being in different departments.
"Unless there is some connection to the university?" he wonders.
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"I'm not sure which university you think you're at, but you should be prepared when we go up. You're at Briarstone Asylum, outside Thrushmoor. Hopefully we can find a doctor to explain what's going on once we get out of here. I'm Campre Linweigh. I'm an orderly here."
Climbing up the chute is relatively easy with the rope, though in places it is wet with blood or other bodily fluids.
You clamber out into a muddy courtyard. Trampled flowerbeds lie smeared and squashed. On all sides, stark gray walls climb towards a narrow gap of sunless sky. The wind howls and a heavy rainstorm pelts you, though the wind and rain are almost tropically warm. Thick yellow mist clings to the ground.
The wind makes hearing difficult and drives the rain almost sideways. Branches wrenched from trees make it clear that the wind has not always been this gentle. A mostly collapsed shed seems to be where the broken stairway would have led, and the building is clearly damaged to the north, with parts of the roof and wall caved in.
Campre takes a moment to reorient himself. "We're in the West Courtyard. This way, he gestures to the collapsed structure to the north, led to the doctors' offices and library. This door, pointing to the only intact door, should lead to the laundry and storage areas. It should be a straight shot from there to the chapel, and then to the front entrance.
"Yeah that's probably it. Hallucinogenic alchemical compounds. Bella did say something about purple fungus. And memory altering properties," Damien drinks in Faust's explaination like a thirsty man drinks water.
"In an asylum?"Damien jumps."That doppel-whatever is really a piece of work. He gassed us and brought us to an asylum to disect us for jollies?"Damien looks horrified."Wait a minute. You're an orderly here. Did you see that doppel-whatever thing bring us in?"
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Campre seems shocked at the accusation, "I have no idea how I ended up in that basement, never mind you lot. I was working the night shift last I remember, then I woke up strapped to that table. It was pretending to be one of the patients at first. Ilsi Scaen. I don't know all the patients, but you might not be among them. If you're all scholars and such, maybe you were here to visit one of the doctors? Or the library?"
Besides, this is a place of healing! Not like that dungeon Havenguard in Caliphas. This isn't the time for jokes, but we've got plenty about putting a Pathfinder in charge of a mental hospital, trust me."
"This isn't the kind of place I usually visit..." Damien eyes the place dubiously. "Again Bella might have asked me to
check if the latest pharmaceuticals were suiting the patients. She really should have come here herself. Now I'll have to jot down the names and the effects most carefully, lest I miss something..." He grumbles to himself. "Again, what can I say? The things we'll do for our other halves..."He throws up his hands in a what-can-I-do gesture.
"Oh pathfinders."Damien gives a huge sigh as if it helps explain matters. "Yeah supposedly a bunch of "archeologists" that cause more problems then they solve. And the stories." Damien slaps a palm on his forehead. "Apparently some of them got onto an airship, then blew a hole through the hull, because they thought someone was sabotaging the engine room.Yeah, if they're in charge of this place, we're in trouble."
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"Oh no! Doctor Losandro is the administrator here. She's gone to great lengths to try and repair the reputation of the mental health profession from the damage that 'Venture-Captain' over in Caliphas causes. Here there's much more focus on treatment, rather than confinement. But that's really a discussion for another time, don't you think?"
"Well, Faust said it. We were probably gassed by that loon with some memory altering and hallucinogen causing substance." Damien declares. "Now the problem is, do I just want out of here, or should I go and talk to Doctor Losandro about what Bella probably sent me here for?" He pinches his chin, undecided.
"Oh yes, about your son, Faust. Where, did you last see your son?" He asks Faust.
Damien opens the intact door. "Right then, lets get out of here."
Navin follows along with the group, trying to absorb the orderly's information. "So you don't recognize any of us as patients then? Where could we find the asylum's records?"
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Campre continues "Not as far as I can remember, but I mostly worked in the east wing, with the short-term patients. If you were treated, it's possible you were in a different ward. Patient records are stored that way," gesturing to the northeast, "Past- the administrator's office, but only senior staff have the keys. If we get somewhere safe I can sketch out a rough map."
With that, Damien swings the door open. As he does so, the wind's howl reaches a fever pitch. The storm, previously blowing from the northwest, now comes from due south, with all the force of a hurricane. Shingles are torn from the roof, and a branch tears from a nearby tree, spinning just inches over your heads.
Broken lanterns and several battered doors line this cold, rubble-strewn hall. To the south, a pair of swinging doors lies shattered upon a 4-foot-high heap of wrecked furniture clogging a broad doorframe. To the north, rubble spills into the hallway about halfway down, while an even more substantial collapse cuts it off
Three men and a woman stand behind the barricade, all pointing crossbows in your direction. They wear what seem to be blankets and jackets hastily improvised into padded armor.
One of the men calls out to you, straining to be heard over the wind. "Whoa, there! We got more here! Don't come any closer!"
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Howard peers into the corridor, and arches an eyebrow.
"Hello to you, too! Look, I don't know what is going on around here, but I am tired, frightened, and there is a storm working itself up into frenzy enough to blow the beard clean off Gozreh! We just want to know what in the Nine Hells is going on, and get out of here (or at least get into some shelter)..."
"Look, we mean none of you any harm, we just want to get out of this place. And there's a hurricane out here, could you just let us in before the storm tears us apart?" He replies. "We're with an orderly, one Campre Linweigh."
"Campre - do you know who those people manning the barricades are? Can you persuade them to let us in?" Damien asks Campre urgently.
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"Fine! Get inside, but don't come any closer!",
Campre calls out, "Noemi, Aristaios! These people saved me! You've got to let us in"
The man and woman in front look to each other for a moment in consideration, before Noemi yells back,
How do we know you're really you? You must have seen those...things...by now. We can't risk it!"
"Yes there was a lunatic that transformed into me, and tried to cut me apart with garden shears."Daimen walks in gestures at the rip in his clothing where he was earlier cut."And that same maniac was trying to cut Campre up on the operating table earlier too. Then I stole his keys like this," He lifts an unattended item at the barricade edge up, "And let everyone out." He releases the hold on the item, and it drops to the ground.
"Howard, please explain to these good people about the Doppel-whatever things."
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The double doors behind the barricade open, and a man and woman stride through. They are both better armed and armored than the guards manning the barricade. The woman wears long-fingered leather gloves, and has a silver holy symbol of Pharasma around her neck, and a shield-shaped silver badge with a tower etched into it. She has mismatched eyes, one green and one brown.
The man calls out, "We all know about you doppelgangers. We're not foolish enough to let infiltrators through."
The woman chastises him, "Come now, Vaustin. There must have been other survivors out there. But you're right that it's too risky." she ponders for a moment. "If you can go kill a doppelganger, that'd make it obvious you're not one of them. If you find any food, clothing, or other supplies, bring them back"
The man she addressed as Vaustin grunts, "Make it three bodies. I know we've shot a few of them. Can't have you bringing your dead friends here for credit."
"Three?! There are at least 3 shapechanging psychopaths down here?!" Damien's eyes bulge with shock as they look about to pop out of his head. "One of them nearly killed me!" Damien sputters. "Bella," he calls out to the celling, "What have you gotten me into this time?!"
He tries his best to compose himself. "If we are to be dealing with these lunatics, we'll need supplies. Especially healing supplies. Do you have any in stock or know where some may be found?"
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Damien doesn't recognize the badge.
The Pharasmin responds, "We barely have enough supplies to support ourselves. We can't afford to spare any until you've proved yourselves. If you have wounded, bring them to the barricade and I'll treat them. You there, come forward." she points to Campre, as the other man sputters,
"You can't do that! You can't heal one of them!
Despite his protests, she casts a spell, and her gloved hand begins to glow with bright light, "You are in no position to tell me what to do, nurse."
The orderly steps forward, and a healing glow seals his wounds, leaving him much healthier. She looks to the guard Campre called Noemi, reaching her other hand out expectantly. The woman retrieves a club hastily crafted out of a chair leg. She places it in Campre's hand.
"We do have a few weapons we might spare, but it seems most of you are well-prepared."
"Right. We should check the storage for more supplies then. What say you, gentlemen?" He asks the party.
"Campre - would you feel better waiting for us at the barricade here or would you want to come along with us?"Damien asks the orderly.
Morrick looks back and forth between the arguing parties, and sighs. Se'Liss, however, is much more vocal.
Wait, wait wait. You're telling me there are more of these psycho-changey-things out there? What in the nine hells is going on? Is this some kind of "siege on the looney bin"?
The serpent tightens it grip on Morrick's neck and looks out of the doors, at the storm.
So let me get this straight. There's an army of shape shifters out there, in some kind of hallucinogenic thunderstorm, and you want us to go kill some? We just woke up, for Asmodeus' sake!
Morrick thwacks the snake between the eyes with his index finger, to stop the ranting, and speaks to the group.
I'm sure you can see how my friends feel this endeavor is slightly ludicrous. What's to stop those things from killing each other? If they wanted to infiltrate you, they could easily fake a few deaths just to get the door open. And if you are dead set on this, then we're going to need something better than table legs...
He gestures to his group and continues his sly vocal manipulation.
We need rest, though, more than anything. I haven't had time to commune with my god for his gifts of power, and I'm sure we have a spellcaster or two who need to gather themselves and focus their arcane might. At least let us rest here, and set out when we're better prepared.
"Oh yeah. Priest of Asmodeus. Yeah, I never really got why you need to pray for powers or whatsoever, but well, whatever floats your boat." He shrugs. "And there are some people who draw power from reading something they call a spellbook? Golly, that's weird, but that's what the world is."
'They're scared. That's why they set up barricades. And if we survived an encounter with one of those shapeshifters, maybe we might be in a better position to deal with them then those manning the barricades...'Damien thinks to himself.
Navin is not excited about hunting doppelgangers but he is pragmatic. "Well at least this time we can work together and have a plan for fighting them instead of just running willy nilly. Besides, it's what we must do to gain access and trust here evidently. Unless there is some other way?" He focuses his vampiric gaze on the guards.
"No!"Damien pulls Faust back. "There are barricades, they're fortified in. Attacking a forrified postition without preparation is always a disaster. Like how the orcs have been trying to take Lastwall for hundreds of years to no avail. I'm a history professor! I know!
Damien continues to speak calmly. "We're all stuck in a situation out of our control. We're scared, they're scared too. Since we did survive an encounter with those shapeshifting things, we're probably in a better position to deal with them. It'd be safer for everyone once those are dealt with."
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The Pharasmin sighs. "If you really were those beasts, I'm pretty sure you'd have given up and attacked us by now. You'll need to pull your weight, though. Come around. What is your son's name, sir?"
The better-equipped man continues to complain about the decision as one of the guards opens the door by his side with a key. Shortly afterward, he appears on your side of the barricade.
The two small rooms he leads you through were once clearly separated, but now a broad gap in the brick wall links them. Dusty buckets, brooms, and racks of cleaning supplies lie in the rear of the northern space, while the other features a small desk and chairs shoved out of the way.
They lead you back into the hallway, at which point the suspicious, better-armored man has moved to block one door , and the Pharasmin opens the double doors leading to the chapel. A dingy curtain has been hung across the hallway to the east.
Improvised pallets are clustered beneath sculpted divinities, and cooking res burn beneath cracked windows in this chapel. Panes of violet and blue stained glass form spiraling patterns between prisonlike bars, while dozens of candles flicker from modest alcove shrines.
A statue of Pharasma holds the most prominent position here, but it is flanked by smaller alcoves to Abadar, Desna, Erastil, Gozreh, Iomedae, Irori, Sarenrae, Shelyn, and even a modest donation box beneath the symbols of Asmodeus and Zon-Kuthon. A number of smaller alcoves and ledges bear statues and iconography of other deities.
More than a dozen people fill the chapel. Many are resting, but others cook, clean, and engage in a number of other tasks. No children are present.
Once in the chapel, Damien looks for the exit to the main entrance. "Does that mean we are free to leave this place? I really want to get home to have dinner with my wife, Bella. I could ask the Thrushmoor authorities to help deal with the problem?" He offers the Pharasmin.
Then he goes to to the base to the statute of Irori and prays for guidance on the direction he should be heading.
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Faust relents as Damien pulls him back.
"Okay," he says. "I'm glad you know what you're doing."
Once they are showed to the chapel, the professor says "I guess we should hurry and do what they want. Maybe as soon as we are done, they will let us go home. I feel better now that I have my equipment."
The alchemist coughs violently for a few moments, but seems to regain his composure quickly.
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The woman massages her temples as she speaks. "I;m afraid returning to Thrushmoor is not an option. There are creatures lurking in the mists. They cut down most who tried to flee when the patient revolt began. I rallied everyone I could to hunker down here until the weather clears or rescuers arrive. Even if you wanted to escape, the path to the entrance is blocked, so unless you want to climb onto the roof, you're stuck here."
Campre asks, Who are you anyway? What happened to Chaplain Setrakian?"
She traces Pharasma's spiral over her heart. "We don't know what happened to him. Many died in the revolt or out in the mists. Others died when tremors damaged the building, and when the ghouls and shapeshifters began attacking. It's possible there are other pockets of survivors, though. I'm Winter Klaczka, a sister of Maiden's Choir cathedral. I was here to meet with Doctor Losandro, but the revolt broke out shortly after I arrived, and everyone I came with perished in those chaotic first hours."
Maiden's Choir is the Pharasmin cathedral in Caliphas, the capital of Ustalav. It is one of the largest and most influential temples to the goddess on Golarion.
While we will all have plenty of questions for one another, let me make one thing clear. Everyone is expected to contribute as much as you can to making sure everyone here survives. Some of the patients and staff are in no shape to help, so that means more work for the rest of us."
"If you can search the facility for more supplies and clear out any dangers, that would be the most valuable thing. With seven new mouths to feed, we have maybe,,, she pauses, fingers moving as she does math in her head. "Maybe four days worth of food before things get dire here. We can also always use help standing guard, breaking down firewood, preparing food, and dealing with some of the more troubled patients. We also have a few wounded who I cannot completely treat magically. Ay assistance with them would be invaluable."
"I see." He nods understandingly."Winter, is there any way you can send a message to your brethen in Caliphas, magically or by divine messengers?" He asks.
"What caused the patient revolt? And the Earthquakes? How did the ghouls and shapeshifters get here? Are there any gardens on the facilities to scavage food?"
"I can help with providing water, but not food."
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"I’m not entirely sure on the details, but a patient led an uprising. It wasn’t like any riot I’ve ever heard of, though. It was more like a religious movement. Most of the northern halls are now held by robed patients who call themselves Apostles in Orpiment. Those we’ve encountered are fanatically devoted to a patient named Ulver Zandalus.
They say Zandalus was a quiet man who sffered from horrible nightmares—a poet and artist whose art was disturbing, but who always seemed peaceful enough himself. All of that apparently changed, though. A few hours after the uprising, near midnight, the tremors started and the ghouls and doppelgangers started appearing”
Unfortunately long range communication is beyond my capability. My...superior remained in Thrushmoor. She must be aware of what's going on."
"The kitchens are in the northeast corner, and there may be more supplies in the central staff sections. The closest courtyard doesn't have anything edible, but the others might. Just make sure the weather hasn't contaminated them somehow."
Navin suggests, "I think we should just check every door and clear it out as we go. It's the only way to make sure the area is secure and also ensure we don't miss any valuable supplies."
Morrick nods at Navin's suggestion.
That makes the most sense. The kitchens are a necessity, but there is no reason to leave anything unknown in our wake, llest we be caught unawares on the return trip. If we wait until tomorrow morning, I will have my spells.
The Asmodean then goes to the small tribute to his god, and begins praying. Se'Liss rolls her eyes, and then takes a nap, snoring loudly (for a snake, anyway). Even in sleep, the familiar finds a way to harass the cleric, as her snoring interrupts his prayers more than once.
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Howard looks more than a little nervous.
"With undead and shapeshifters prowling the area, let's not go off half-cocked. I agree, heading in the general direction of the kitchens is probably a good idea, but let's methodically search everything between here and there - I would rather not leave anything nasty behind us, to attack at an inopportune moment..."
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You recognize WInter's badge as belonging to the Royal Accusers, secretive agents who were sworn to Ustalav’s crown and operated outside the country’s baroque hierarchy of titles and privilege. They primarily concern themselves with the nobility, taking care of problems for loyal nobles and punishing (or in extreme cases, exterminating), families who become too problematic themselves.
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Howard attempts to get a private moment with Winter.
"I could not help noticing your badge, Accuser. Are you here in an official capacity? If so, is there anything that we should know about, before we head off into the unknown? I would hate for people to die, due to lack of intelligence. Conversely, of course, if there is anything that you would like us to keep an eye out for, please, let me know."
Damien laughs at the snake snores interrupting Morrick.'Now that's funny, I'd never imagine I'd see a snake's snoring interrupting a cleric at prayers.'
He tries to talk to the snake. "Hi, imp in disguise - can I touch you? I've never had an opportunity to touch a snake before."
"We've got 4 days of food supplies before we starve. I'd say time is of essence. We can't be sleeping the day off." He chides Morrick.
"Winter, did you see how we came to be here? Like did the shapeshifters gas us and drag us in?" He asks the Pharasmin.
"And who or what are the order of the Orpiment? Who is Chaplain Septrekian? How does he look like, and where was he last seen headed to?"
Damien agrees to search the place systematically.. He busies himself helping chop firewood for an hour while waiting for the party to set off. After the hour ends, he urges the party to start the search.
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"We don't know much about what the Apostles in Orpiment worship, or what they want. It's not any group I've ever heard of. When they attacked, it seemed like a mindless frenzy. We haven't seen any in over 24 hours, though."
Though Winter never met him, others will give a description of Chaplain Setrakian, a pudgy, balding Varisian man. Also a Pharasmin cleric, he did his best to help those of other faiths perform their rites. He had performed an evening service for Desnans about an hour before the Apostles began rioting.
She also can't comment on your arrival here, though one of the nurses will comment, "You don't remember? Many people seem to have lost parts of themselves since this all started. You were patients here, being treated by Doctor Losandro personally."
HP whispers something to Winter. After a moment, the two leave the chapel. A moment later, a handsome young Garundi man in a stained nurses outfit enters, followed by a pair of children, a boy and a girl.
Winter's eyes narrow, and she whispers, Come with me...
She leads you out of the chapel, and knocks on the nearest door.
"Tolman, I need the room."
"Just a moment!" a man's voice replies, before the door opens, revealing a nest of cushions and linens surrounding a battered wooden desk. The desk's surface is almost invisible under a mountain of pieces of paper, all folded to resemble different animals. The man takes a small boy and girl by the hand. "Come on, let's get a snack!" he says as he leads them out.
She closes and locks the door before saying, "I'd appreciate you keeping what I say here confidential. I can't have the people in the chapel getting spooked."
"I'm afraid I can't answer all your questions, as I have very few answers myself. I am not an Accuser myself, just in service to one. Haserton Lowls, the count of Versex, appears to have abandoned his duties as one of the nation’s rulers. Accuser Omari had reason to believe that Lowls had regular business here at Briarstone. She sent me along with other associates to investigate the asylum while she went on to Thrushmoor. In this particular instance, I believe my experience as a healer was judged useful, so I was requisitioned from Maiden's Choir."