"It is not, Ms Masozi. Trust me that this curse - or whatever it is - is just as distressful to me as you. Perhaps we should let the book rot somewhere."
"These smoking skeletons must be the remains of those who died in the fire - but they have been cold for years, why smoke now? Unless their death created some kind of haunt in addition to their reanimated bones?"
"As good a hypothesis as any, Master Bookman."
Swinging the axe, Brogol has little success, the weapon bouncing off the creature, barely chipping any bone. Scowling, the boy flips his hood back to get a better view of his enemy.
Brogol swings his axe at the skeleton in front of him, but the blow is ineffective.
The skeletons attack relentlessly, clawing at Brogol and Radag.
Two of them manage to land blows, one each to Radag and Brogol.
The smoke coming off the skeletons starts to intensify.
1st: Aduard, Radag
2nd: Skeletons
3rd: Brogol, Dashil
Dashil hammers yet another of the skeletons into the ground.
"What's with the smoke? Is this another haunt?"
Aduard was too buys to answer immediately as he pulled and prepared a vial of water. "Perhaps this will dampen them!" he called, hoisting the vial at one of the skeletons near Radag.
The vial just barely clipped - merely brushed - the edge of the wall near the skeleton, but it instantly disintegrated, spreading most of the contents on the floor.
"Will you two stop your yammering and focus on re-killing these damnable things!" Radag yells as he throws off the skeleton that had been too close for comfort and continues to test his sword's cutting power on its bones.
Howling with anger, fear, and pain, Brogol swings wildly at the skeleton that just raked its claws across his forearm, stinging tears in the boy's eyes. Sadly, the Brogol's fear and confusion gets the most of him; his slashes are nowhere near his target.
Brogol's swing goes wide, but Dashil's blow is more accurate, rendering the animated skeleton into a pile of splinters.
Aduard throws a vial at the nearest remaining skeleton. It clips the central wall, shattering on impact. Most of the water trickles to the floor, but a little bit does hit the skeleton, eliciting a hiss from the smoldering bones.
Radag's strike is true, smashing another animated corpse into bits.
Suddenly, the remaining skeleton bursts into flame! Fire licks up and down its bones as it throws itself at Radag. "Die, jailer scum!" echoes from within the empty skull.
Both its swipes miss, but the fire licks at his armor.
1st: Aduard, Radag
2nd: Skeletons
3rd: Brogol, Dashil
A scream escapes Brogol's mouth as he runs forward axe held above his head. Slamming the axe down, Brogol's scream tapers off, a question coming to mind as his mind works slower than his reflexes. "Jailer scum?"
Dashil moves around behind the last remaining skeleton, taking advantage of the flanking opportunity Radag provides. She attacks the skeleton.
Radag growls clenching his teeth and bearing through the heat to try and sunder the firey bones of the undead warrior.
Brogol's attack lands true, causing the skeleton to burst into a shower of embers and smoke.
While the group pauses to catch their breaths, you notice that there are brass nameplates fastened above the four doorways leading out of the room. After reaching up and wiping off the soot, the party reads the following names. To the north lies “The Oubliette.” To the west lies “Reaper’s Hold.” To the south lies “The Nevermore.” And to the east once stretched “Hell’s Basement.”
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My memories are disjointed, rather than missing. Every now and then some event will trigger recall of some memory. That in turn triggers a others, which trigger others in some strange flood of recollection.
It was the smell of burning bone that brought this latest memory back.
Stockl's blow brought low the haunt-ridden bones of the burned prisoner, the shattered bones combusting furiously and poisonously.
I remembered that smell, and the pain, my own hand desperately holding off my erstwhile 'allies' as I fumbled a command word. Then, back at my library, the whole hand burned down to the bone yet somehow, monstrously, still functional.
That in turn triggered memory of the spell that reinforced my own flesh, bringing false vitality even to bare bone.
I repaired the shreds of burned glove that still clung to my hand, repaired the warped rings that hung loose on charred bones. I remembered the spell to do so. I remembered...
Then Irefist said something, and I was back.
"What charming names" Aduard observed, nodding at the brass plates.
"Well, while Dashil sees to Irefist and Stockl ensures our opponents are truly resting eternal, I need to make some quick notes."
True to his words Aduard finds some debris to sit on, wipes it down, sits and starts writing in his book.
Brogol takes the Bookman's instructions seriously, and begins separating the skulls of the skeletons from their bodies, and then placing them on the other side of the room. Dredging his memory, the boy pulls up a half-remembered Varisian funeral dirge.
Half-mumbling half-chanting, the boy makes his way around the room, sprinkling a little water on the skeletons as he goes.
"Devlam, phando te avel leskoro drom kale kandrendar. Devlam, phando te avel leskoro drom kale kandrendar. Devlam, phando te avel leskoro drom kale kandrendar..."
"Well, looks like I was right about at least one thing. The worst of the haunts and undead are down here. Only hope that we don't run afowl of any incorporeals." Radag comments as he sheaths the greatsword.
"Where do we want to go from here?"
"You're a damn genius Irefist." grumbles Aduard, then sighs.
"Sorry Irefist - damn curse is getting on my nerves. Alright, let's use logic. This was a prison. We've explored the other floors. What might we expect? Ground had administration, top floor had the false priest and the piper."
"Oubliette is a hole one puts people to suffer in. Hell's Basement suggests suffering, or fire. Reaper's Hold... could they mean a grim reaper? More likely than harvest god, though it might be the kitchens. Nevermore... I have nothing."
"Hell's basement has a cheery sound to it." he rolled his eyes "Why don't we go there."
He stopped to retrieve the accursed book, roughly attaching the disturbed pages "but first:" he concentrated, unleashing strong magics in an attempt to put the book back together.
Dashil shrugs. "Fine. We'll visit them all, sooner or later. And that's the best-case scenario."
She isn't feeling particularly cheery.
You glance through the doorways leading off of this room. To the north, west, and south, each leads to a short hallway, ending in an iron portcullis. The western and southern portcullises are down, the one to the north is raised. There are also door ways leading off each hallway (one each in the north and south hallways, two in the western hallway).
"Wait - I think Hell's Basement might now be Hell's Swimming Pool." Aduard sighs.
"Well, given we don't have a way of raiding Portcullises, why don't we head off to the "Oubliette". Everyone mind your footing, I've no desire to carry anyone with a broken leg back upstairs."
Brogol shrugs, capping his waterskin. "Oubilette it is. Aye'll take tha lead."
"Ive bent bars before this. Lets not rule out the portcullis entirely while we are down here." Radag says walk after Brogol.
"I'm sure we can pass a portcullis, Irefist, but for now they may keep something else from sneaking up behind us in this accursed place."
Dashil makes a face. She's inclined to agree with Aduard, but it's just as likely that leaving the portcullis down will block their own retreat, while doing nothing to hinder any incorporeals that might come through.
She shrugs. Ustalav. Damned either way.
Gods, she needs a drink right now; but even she isn't quite that stupid or unprofessional.
Yet.
The group makes its way up the northern corridor. As you approach the side door, a headless skeleton wielding an axe steps through the door. The skeleton is wreathed in flames, and lurches awkwardly towards the party.
Initiative:
The skeleton lurches towards Radag, and takes a wide swing with its axe.
+
1st: Vortch
2nd: Radag, Brogol, Aduard, Dashil
Radag is - Gods help her - the closest thing Dashil has to a friend now that Lorrimor is dead. That realisation sinks in at about the same time (and speed) as the skeleton's axe; the sound it makes as it sinks deep into Radag's flesh will stay with her for some time.
A cold, calculated rage builds inside her, manifesting as a slight radiance to her features; her blue hair streams out, crackling with energy, moving as if of its own volition.
She stares the headless thing down. "Big mistake there. Last one you'll ever make. Aduard, blast it to hell. Kid, see if you can get behind it. Me, I'm taking the direct approach."
So saying, she moves to engage the skeleton, standing over Radag protectively. Seems fitting that we go together...
Aduard grits his teeth and cuts loose. Memories unroll like scrolls. Crack open like books.
Hero Point to refresh FS.
Standard to cast Magic Missile at CL 7
4 bolts of arcane energy streak from his hands, slamming into the skeleton with a force that would have reduced their previous foes to dust.
A deep wellspring of fear bubbles up within Brogol as he sees Radag drop. The Irefist was the toughest person that Brogol knew, except perhaps the Doctor, who may or may not be among the living himself. A quick appraisal of the situation made the grim truth clear to the apprentice monster hunter; Irefist was likely dead, but if he wasn't and the group ran... he sure was.
Reaching into his pouch, Brogol drew a vial of a bitter tasting concoction the boy had brewed that morning. The concoction was pungeant and most difficult to swallow, but once done, would work much as a magic spell, providing the boy with much-needed shielding from the headless skeleton's attacks. Which, judging from the previous few seconds, the boy would need. Then he prepares to drag the Irefist's body backwards into the room.
"Aye can't get behind it while yer all in tha hall!"
"Dashil: for the good gods; sake woman! We need to get you out of there before Vance Saetressle, aka the Lopper, strikes you down as well!" He pauses, struck by inspiration "Stockl - do you still have his handaxe?"
Dashil grits her teeth to prevent the obvious - and insulting - retort escaping her lips. The man means well, after all.
Brogol's hand goes to the axe's handle, the weapon safely tucked into his belt, the boy suddenly terrified that he's lost the weapon somewhere. "Its here Master Bookman! Aye'll give it back to tha Lopper - head-first!"
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Aduard manages to cast his spell, firing off several bolts of mystical energy. The bolts slam into the fiery skeleton, rocking it back on its heels.
Dashil and Brogol both take steps to prepare for facing this dangerous foe.
The skeleton stumbles around the corridor, swinging its axe wildly. Dashil just manages to duck as the axe whistles past her head.
1st: Vortch
2nd: Radag, Brogol, Aduard, Dashil
Aduard dashes in, grabs at Radag's fallen form and drags it out into the larger room. Worries about sepsis and further injury are secondary, at this point, to just getting the man somewhere he can be helped. With a smooth, graceful movement he knelt by the fallen man and drew a potion from his belt.
"Oof! He ways a tonne!"
Ducking the skeletal attack, Dashil rises again, eyes blazing, swinging her morningstar with as much force as her holy fury can muster.
She then steps smartly back, meaning that if it wants to continue the fight it'll have to step forward - right between her and Brogol.
Stepping to the side, Brogol draws the handaxe and waits the approach of the maybe-Lopper, reading to end the thing's existence just as ruthlessly as it may have ended Radag's.
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Aduard grabs hold of Radag's body, dragging it back into the larger chamber, leaving a streak of red on the stone floor.
Dashil swings her Morningstar, landing a solid blow on the burning skeleton. It staggers under the blow, but continues its onslaught. She then steps back, drawing her foe into the larger chamber.
As the skeleton moves forward, it comes within range of Brogol's attack. He swings, connecting with the thing's arm, knocking chips of flaming bone back into the hallway.
The skeleton blindly stumbles forward, swing its axe at Brogol. The thing trips over a stone, momentarily staggering it, and causing its blow to fall short of the half-orc.
1st: Vortch
2nd: Radag, Brogol, Aduard, Dashil
Brogol shuts his eyes and flinches as the horror's axe comes directly at the boy's face... only to open them as a woosh of air blows his cloak hood back. As the monster's axe slams into the prison's floor, Brogol raises his weapon and swings it back at the skeleton, intent that it won't get another chance...
Aduard dropped to his knees, fumbling at his belt for a curative. 'No time to look for signs of life. Come on Irefist, you're too annoying to go down to some gussied up skeleton!'.
Desperately he poured it down the unresponsive Radag's throat...
Dashil nods in satisfaction as her plan works - the skeleton is now between her and Brogol, allowing her to use her companion's assistance to hit more precisely. She lashes out at it with her morningstar.
Brogol takes another swing at the skeleton, but his blow does minimal damage, mildly inconveniencing his foe.
Aduard manages to open a potion, and pour it down the half-elf's throat, stabilizing the man.
Dashil swings her Morningstar, landing a decisive blow. The skeleton blasts apart, falling to the floor in a burst of sparks.