Chuckling at the response and the backing away cleric, "If you stack your plagues right it could be worse."
Bedlam searches the fallen Demon's pockets.
Me tanks, Aurora., the dwarf chuckles.
Bedlam pokes around the demon's "pockets" but he finds nothing but guts.
Where to? The map is updated so you should be able to see your options...
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Bedlam puts some demon guts in a belt pouch.
As the party staunches bat bites and fights off infections, they discuss the demonic influence they've encountered. That disturbing little creature and its friend are part of the story of this place
The room you're in, Da Book: This room is painted with murals depicting five men and women in white robes
standing next to each other, each with a range of dates under its portrait (these are the first and subsequent high priests
of the healing order). The last figure in line has had its left hand blacked
out with paint, but the others are not defaced in this way. He also lacks an end date There is a large
bloodstain (very old) in the center of the room.
Aurora gestures toward the eastern door.
No apparent traps.
You open it, Da Book:
This room is the lair of a giant diseased giant rat that is almost ten
feet long. It only has a few patches of fur sticking out from its pale hide,
which is covered with oozing boils. Its eyes are bright red, and glitter with
intelligence.
Initiative
Lunch be served!
The excited dwarf takes out a flask, applies it to his heavy pick, and readies to pick the rat.
Source Ultimate Equipment pg. 107 (Amazon)
Price 50 gp; Weight 1 lb.
Category Alchemical Weapons
Description
Harvested and concentrated from the remains of slain ghasts, this foul-smelling powder is kept in tightly sealed flasks. It is thrown as a splash weapon and the flask breaks on impact, releasing noxious dust. The target is nauseated for 1 round and sickened for 3 rounds after that. A successful DC 12 Fortitude save prevents the nauseated condition, but not the sickened condition. Creatures within 5 feet of where the flank hits are sickened for 1 round. This is a poison effect. Crafting this item is a DC 20 Craft (alchemy) check.
Construction
Craft (Alchemy) DC 20
The dwarf steps forward 5'
Come ta Bedlam rat!
Anzath vomits a little in her mouth when Bedlam suggests eating this thing, or is it the zombie plague? I mean, she was half raised on dwarven cuisine, but THIS dwarf has a peculiar appetite.
Considering the things they’ve faced down here already, before rushing in, she takes a moment to study the giant giant rat, trying to distinguish it from other enlarged vermin.
Then, she tries to move around to outflank the rat.
Anzath studies the monster. It is definitely not just a normal diseased rat. It's the size of a horse and it is actively oozing without seeming too distressed about it. It's pretty quick, too!
Its jaws snap in the space that Anzath just vacated, slinging a trail of vile saliva after her, but doing no harm. Anzath remembers learning that some demonspawn rats can spray infections spit over a large area...
“Vatch out for spit!”
Oi! Sauce!
hurrrp
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Tragershen lobs some acid at the ROUS.
Prescience
Acid Splash
Damage
Aurora grimaces at the large diseased rodent and immediately makes the decision to get nowhere near it. She drops her quarterstaff and moves to the position that will get as much of the group as possible in a 15ft radius (with a preference for the melee line), drawing her crossbow as she moves, and she presses a fingertip to her forehead in blessing; the pale white spark flares in a brief glow of light before fading.
demonspawn rats can spray infections spit over a large area...
There is something wrong with that dwarf! Shaking her head and rushing forward with her scimitar aimed for the overgrown rats face. Fully intent on keeping it focused on her.
Talathel is quick on the heels of the paladin:
Between the flashing of the scimitar and the whirling of the branched spear, the giant rat is starting to feel some pain.
Anzath manages to hold back her puke. Unfortunately, her companion, the giant diseased giant rat, is less demure.
It opens its horrible mouth and... and... SPEWSSSS. From her post behind the rodent's ample rump, Anzath watches in horror as her friends are doused in a stream of supernatural vom.
Aurora holds her breath and shuts her eyes and waits for the storm to end... everyone else ('cept Anzy) contracts a higher-DC version of The Pestilence.
"I said vatch out!"
Anzath attacks from behind!
Anzath takes advantage of the beast's distraction to, first brain it with a mace, and then to lop its head off. She now looks at her grimy companions. She coughs a little. Does she smile? She might.
And that was the end of the giant diseased giant rat.
As you explore the room, you see a smaller doorway in the room, too small for the rat to defile. It's a bedroom, a monk's cell.
There are three small portraits on the cabinet. Each is a bad charcoal sketch of a different attractive young woman.
Anzath's face twitches as she looks upon her vomit soaked comrades, "Now ve all have plague."
In the monk's cell, she throws the crude portraits in her bag before Tal can see them.
Aurora sets the crossbow down and almost begins furiously wiping the muck out of her hair and off of her face... but remembers she prepared create water. It's not as good as prestidigitation, but anything to get this horrible rat puke off of her quicker.
The cleric keeps spam-casting her cantrip in one gallon increments of water until she is either clean or Tragershen takes pity on her. Once she's clean-ish, she goes back around picking up her crossbow and her quarterstaff.
Staring on as the group rallied forth and left him readying, the drenched dwarf smiles.
Perhaps, we be gitt'n sick.
Shrugging and wiping the slime off her face, "I can't wait for a bath."
*And Vael! The religious ones are well!
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"Hold still." Aurora looks over to Vael and casts create water to dump approximately two gallons of water over the tiefling. It's kind of like a bath. More like a shower. Even more like an entry in an unexpected ice bucket challenge.
"Do we press on, or withdraw and recoup? If we have the plague that this vile place is determined to give us, perhaps we should press on and ask Nethys to rid us of it when we are done. Or do we withdraw, heal and equip, and return at full strength?" Tragershen will use his prestidigation to help speed the water's cleansing.
"I would indeed suggest withdrawing. We'll have to be mindful of our... refugees at camp, to ensure we do not spread this bile to them. Oh, by the way, Vael; we've spent nearly the last week escorting refugees in the woods to Zelkor's Ferry because of a petty war between... what was it... Magnimar and Riddleport? It saw Southward burnt down. Another reason we were late to your corpse."
Thirsty work be s'ploring. Kegs at da Ferry.
Anzath exits out of the monk's quarters after doing a thorough check...
...only to find her two female comrades with wet hair and clothes, Tragershen working them over with magic, Talathel being suspiciously withdrawn.
Suddenly, her fists and teeth clench, her shoulders tighten as she stomps past the slain giant diseased giant rat.
"Vhat de dwarf said," she mutters with a scowl, drawing her hood up and leading the way back out of the diseased dungeon.
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Anzath finds a secret door. It's not much of a secret door, really, more like a hidey-hole. Inside she finds five golden rings, each inscribed with "To my one true love." She also finds a scroll of Remove Disease with a note explaining that the monk who used to live here is a disgrace to Sarenrae and his vow of chastity. That the abbot is giving him a scroll so he can take care of his problem himself. That the abbot isn't going to give him any more scrolls. That he should concentrate on his mission, which is researching demons.
Bedlam and Talathel lose a hit point to the plague. Everyone else fights it off.
As the party returns to the hallway, they see yet another swarm rolling in their direction. This time it's roaches.
Trag closes with the roaches, but only close enough to catch them at the edge of his spell. A gout of flame erupts from his fingertips, engulfing the insects.
Burning Hands, damage . DC 15 reflex for half damage.
Bedlam nods at the drow elf. He follows her.
Be smart!
Viewing the roach swarm heading in the group's direction, the dwarf promptly purges his previous meal. Belching, swinging a flask, spitting it out again, the dwarf grins.
Ready fer sum appetizers!
Tragershen's flames cut down many, many roaches--but the swarm rolls onward.
Aurora is no good at dealing with swarms. She stares at Bedlam's display in abject disgust. "I do not have words for you..."
Bedlam takes out an Alchemist Fire and tosses it at the swarm.
More roaches fall. But the tide advances.
Anzath's a bit moody at the moment, and she waits for Bedlam and Tragershen to take care of the roach swarm. But it seems it wasn't enough. She begrudgingly slips out another flask and throws it on the bonfire.
Anzath's ennui almost costs the party, but she snaps out of it in time to incinerate the remaining roaches.
And now the party begins the ascent out of the dungeon.
The party winds its way up past so many battles they've fought--rooms cleared, treasures looted. This place is full of memories. It'd be easier to appreciate them if 2/3 of the party didn't feel like crud.
They make it to the camp without any further trouble.
As the party pushes through the demon's mouth, they find a distraught Ippolit doing his best to hold back a frothing Gelver. You hear his city-of-Riddleport accent doing its best "I'm a cop, I've got this under control" spiel. You hear Gelver whimpering and whining like an angry dog.
A group of eight heavily armed soldiers are roughly shoving the adult refugees into manacles. Gelver is standing in between the eleven year old boy and two of the soldiers. Ippolit is standing between Gelver and said soldiers. Ippolit is holding Gelver's sword and doing his best to keep it away from your most feral NPC as he tries to get it back and slay the whole patrol single-handed.
Across the clearing, two knights on horseback point their lances to the sky while chortling at the struggles of the ex-cop and his sidekick. They are attended by a man in the uniform of a sherrif House Cholmondeley. The leader barks out,
"You there! Step away from that trespasser! I don't care if you're a bloody city cop, anyone harboring refugees of Southward will be thrown in prison. What the hells are you doing out here, anyway? Deserted your post, eh? I'd hate to be you if anyone you locked up recognized you in there. So call off that human hyena or we'll kill him for obstruction of justice. By the authority of Count Cholmondeley, desist your resistance and surrender that criminal child!"
The closest soldier soon finds a glowing purple scimitar blade held up to his chin.
<cough> "Drop your veaponz and stand down before I infekt you vid zombie plague." <sniffle>
Anzath is NOT in the mood for this sh!t.
Nodding her thanks for the impromtu shower and keeping out of the way form the swarm. A sword will do nothing.
Trailing behind the ground and quietly watching the exchange outside the mouth of the cave. Glancing back at Aurora, "These your people?"
For a moment, Aurora seems stunned by what she is seeing outside of the Demon's Maw. Then she shrieks furiously and begins the march towards the soldiers, "They are under our protection! The only criminals here are the ones trying to abduct a child!"
The hulking dwarf stomps and kicks his way to the throng.
Though mo expert in personalities, Tragershen is hard pressed to see this going any way that does not involve violence. As they stepped forward, his only concern was making sure all of his friends were within the range that he would need to hasten their movements if/when the time comes.