Some deep terror takes hold of Anzath and she panics. She drops Yaza’s Magical +1 Blunt Damage mace and her crowbar and makes a beeline out the door.
Talathel, not so lucky. He's run past a portcullis trap that has caught him between its unforgiving iron and a room where the floor is apparently entirely on fire. More details for you when combat's over, Tal!
Reelling back from the necrotic energy sapping his strength, Brand feverishly tries to destroy the undead horror tearing through he and his comrades.
After running, spear tossed aside, Talathel uncharacteristically appears very emotional.
And yelling.
"AIIEEE!!!! IT IS, WRONG, WRONG, WRONG!!!"
So terrified that he barely notices the flames beneath him.
Bedlam quickly drinks Targeted Bomb Admixture Extract before backing away 20'.
Me got only one bomb left; be making it count!
Tragershen backs up with Bedlam, firing his wand once again.
To hit
Damage
Meanwhile:
Brand's next assault is far less promising than the first--mostly because he misses with both swings; the skeleton's weaving, preternaturally nimble moves make it tough to hit.
Tragershen's Wand of Attempt to Disrupt Undead again functions as usual. I wonder if it is somehow cursed?
Aurora goes for the kneebones:
...unfortunately, nothing much happens.
The black skeleton continues its relentless attack on Brand:
The valiant halfling feels his vigor fade with each gash--somehow the cuts themselves aren't as bad as this sense of pervading weakness.
A gritty look of determination etched itself onto the Alchemist's face, as he creates his final bomb and tosses it at the skeleton.
@ Anzath and Talathel: if you want to play your situations out while the others fight the monster, that's cool with me. Anzath could conceivably rush back down there, which would mean we'd have to reconcile the timescale at some point. Tal, tho--you've got a puzzle to solve, if you want to start on it.
Brand, looking weak and pallid, calls back to his companions, "A bit o''elp, 'ere. I don' feel so gud. If'n ye got some magik dat wud 'elp, now'd be de time..."
Huff..huff..huff..
Anzath finds herself with her back against a door. She’s not sure what came over her, but she had to run, she had to get out of there.
Her breathing is heavy, she must have been running for some time. She brings her breathing under control, which takes a moment, and then tries to make sense of where she is. Can she find her way back? Wait, she’s spent the better part of her adult life hunting people down. She just needs to hunt herself.
Bedlam's bomb blows a chunk of bone out of the monster, but it also deals six splash damage to Aurora.
The raw panic that overcame Talathel begins to ebb, and he seizes control over his breathing.
And realises that the flames do not appear to be harming him.
Hmmm.
He looks around, his eyes able to see regardless of the light, though it is useful for detail.
Talathel:
Your mind returns to normal. Your hand confirms that your curve blade is in its place even if the lack of the spear is irritating. You have your share of the party's rations and loot, along with your other gear.
As you examine the portcullis, your heart falls a bit. It looks very, very strong. As you walk away towards the flame room, you figure you have a 15 x 10 hallway to hang out in. Beyond, the walls open up into a hexagonal space, and you see the flame room. There is a door 50 ft to the east, beyond the flames, and another door 20 ft to the south and east (on a diagonal wall from where you are). You see that you also have a similar door, but yours was already open.
As you reach the lip of the flames, the portcullis clicks and suddenly raises itself.
What you see from the edge of the flames:
From The Book:
The floor of this room is five feet lower than the doors, and the entire floor burns with magical flames reaching to a height of two feet. In other words, there is a three foot gap from door level down to the top of the flames, the flames are two feet high, and the floor is at the bottom. To anyone standing at the level of the doors, there is no heat emanating from the flames. However, if the characters reach down to test for heat, they discover that the heat starts one foot above the level of the flames and that the flames themselves are as hot as normal flames—the heat just doesn’t rise very high, for some reason.
Each door has a button next to it on the inside of the room to the left of the door. The button can easily be reached from the door without any riskof falling into the flames.
In addition to the fiery floor and the buttons, the room has a third strange feature: chains hang from the twenty foot tall ceiling at ten-foot intervals,each chain fifteen feet in length. Thus, a six foot tall person hanging from the end of the chain would have his feet approximately at the point wherethe heat of the fire begins.
Aurora, realizing how poorly this is going as her allies bolt and wither around her, curses colorfully. In several languages. Classy. It is only intensified when she is splashed by the bomb.
"I don't have the time to mend you, Brand, that spell takes nearly twenty seconds to cast. If you can't hold on, move away, I will remain here." She brandishes her quarterstaff, threateningly, but utters a rushed prayer beseeching Nethys instead of striking again for the creature.
Home >Magic >Spells (Paizo, Inc.) >T >
Targeted Bomb Admixture
School transmutation; Level alchemist 1
CASTING
Casting Time 1 standard action
Components V, S
EFFECT
Range personal
Target you
Duration 1 round/level
DESCRIPTION
Upon drinking an extract created with this formula, you make a significant change to your magical reserve that modifies the nature of all bombs you create and throw during this extract’s duration. This effect on your magical reserve has no effect on any discoveries that you use to modify your bombs, but you can only have one admixture effect (formula with the word “bomb admixture” in its title) active at a time. If you drink another bomb admixture, the effects of the former bomb admixture end and the new one becomes active.
When you throw bombs, they can only hit a direct target; they do not splash. However, the bomb deals its base damage plus double your Intelligence modifier instead of just its base damage plus your Intelligence modifier
Talathel notes the features of the rooms, slowly testing for heat and dangers.
Touching the flames triggers the portcullis, I believe. Removing oneself from the flame room resets the portcullis. There are two obvious possibilities. One, the trap has fully reset, and I now have a possibility of escape. Two, the trap has changed state and there is now no safe way to proceed past that portcullis.
Perhaps...perhaps I could make a running leap at a chain and use that momentum to begin leaping from chain to chain, over the flames. If the portcullis falls when I enter the room via high up on the chains, I will at least know that. I must try.
He withdraws into the hexagonal room, puts away his curve blade, and then starts running towards the nearest chain.
Now!
The Nethysians gradually recognize their foe--the dreaded Black Skeleton. They know that it is the remains of an ancient hero, twisted into madness and undeath by the darkest magics. These creatures are favored by Orcus, and their most dangerous feature--other than their nimble, canny fighting style, fully backed by intelligence--is their ability to shrug off damage from weapons that are not both bludgeoning AND Good.
Tragershen calls out, "Step away from that... thing! I've got a spell to cast! Also, we don't have weapons that can easily hurt it... we need something Good and Bludgeoning, and we don't have a paladin on hand..."
He readies an action to cast Glitterdust as soon as there is no chance that he will hit a friend.
The black skeleton looms over Brand, and mutters in a whispering, raspy voice that speaks in a long-extinct accent of Common: "Thou fightest well... I shall tell the priests that thou art worthy of the blackening...
Talathel: You swing gracefully over the flames. You are now on the other side of the fire room, looking at a closed door with a button in the wall next to it.
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Aurora flexes her jaw and changes her plan. An uttered prayer and shift of focus sees her prepared silence converted into cure moderate wounds, which she then attempts to cast defensively...
She then steps back from the skeletal creature, muttering a string of accusations that the skeleton's mother had once sat upon Kostchtchie's lap as she does. Hopefully, Tragershen went to the Cheesy Wizard's School of Angling Spell Effects Just So, and her five-foot step would be sufficient.
The beast slips away from the touch attack, even though Brand's dangerous flanking presence keeps it off balance...
...and he takes his AOO
...mercifully, a miss.
The last bit of his strength fading out of his body, Brand gasps. this may be too much, even for my luck... he thinks to himself. But as the skeleton turned to lash out at Aurora, Brand embraces his one last chance to thrust before dodging back away from his far superior foe, dropping his mace and drawing his other blade as he does.
Talathel quickly searches for any trap or hidden mechanism. Disabling it would be another matter...
@Talathel: You don't see any traps.
Main party: Brand's parting slash sends the undead reeling. Its bones, once a uniform, shining black, are now spotted over with white. It looks, somehow, dismayed.
So dismayed that Tragershen shifts tactics. Instead of ripping a Glitterdust, he flicks his wand, one last time:
Finally, without his friends in the way to disrupt his aim, Tragershen manages to fire a ray of goodness into the skull of the monster. The balefires in its eyes go out. It collapses into a disarticulated heap.
Bedlam kicks the bones dejectedly...the Alchemist digs into a pocket. He hands a vial to Brand. He then fishes out an iron vial from another pocket.
First'un be a simple Cure Light Wounds 1d8+4). Da otter be sumting you be drinking just before you be drinking a potion (Alchemical Allocation).
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Slowly, meekly, with trembling hands, Brand resheaths his swords. The halfling looks frail, and horribly gaunt. Still shaking, he reaches down to pick up his walking stick that he uses as a mace but instead collapses onto the ground around it. As Bedlam Howie's over and offers the two potions, Brand smiles. "Much obliged... Dat said, de lady's 'and is still aglow, an' I be wonderin' if dat ain't a spell dat can break de dead... An' mend de livin'? If'n dat's de case, here's no use in wastin' yer potions as she's already cast it. Now, would one o' ye be so kind as teh 'elp me teh me feet? Seem teh be a wee bit weak at de moment..."
Talathel decides to do a more thorough search.
Tal: After a thorough search, you still don't find any traps. Open the door? Press the button?
Talathel attempts to open the door.
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Anzath creeps along the tunnels, Critmaker drawn, as she follows her own footsteps back to the crypt room. In her mind she is kicking herself, hard, for fleeing the battle. Losing two sets of comrades in one day would be just rediculous. Not that she cares for these people, but at least they were more tolerable than the Sarenraeans. And they can fight well. And the elves are ok, I guess. Damnit! Why’d she have to run? They’re probably all dead and it’s definitely her fault.
She grips Critfisher tighter and picks up some speed.
Tal: Nothing scary happens. You find yourself in long, dark, winding corridors much like the ones you've been exploring all along. In fact, after a while, you realize you recognize a door--it's the door to the sarcophagi. There's actually another door between you and the sarcophagus door, but you scamper past it to see what remains of your friends.
Congratulations, you've made an enormous loop, swung through part of a puzzle with a few good rolls, and found the party again.
Time for the reunion...
...anyone want to open the last sarcophagus? Eh? Anyone?
What a relief.
******
When he catches up to the party, he almost smiles.
"It is good to see you all. Both alive and victorious. Now, did anyone see where I flung my spear in my earlier undignified panic?"
Bedlam nods in greeting to the returning elves.
Me be tink'n dat we needs ta return ta camp fer a night.