The group backtracks, back through the tunnel to the room in which they'd encountered the beetle. The charred corpse still lies at the centre of the room. There's no fire in the room itself, but the smell of burning is stronger than it previously was, emanating from the southern corridor, which has light flickering against and illuminating a corner at its far southern end. The atmosphere is oily; it makes breathing difficult and is beginning also to affect visibility.
I don't like this, we should go in a different direction
"Nor I, Illya, but going in a different direction the last time only made it worse. We have to deal with that fire or it may smoke the entire crypt out and we will all die, Roldare included. Wait here and cover your mouth from the smoke, I will fetch some things from Roldare," Ka'narg says before quickly making his way to backtrack towards the room they had left Roldare barricaded in.
Ka'narg opens the door ajar slightly, and calls out in a hoarse whisper. "Roldare, don't shoot. It's Ka'narg."
"Someone should go with him just in case..." if no one moves to accompany the ranger, Harken will mutter some curses and then follow the man.
The barricade's been re-established. Roldare starts and grabs for his (what used to be Ka'narg's) crossbow, then stops.
"Oh - did you find Dimira? Did you find her? Is she safe? Did you find Shelyn and Krayl?"
"We are still looking, but there is smoke coming from deeper within the crypt. Can you let Harken and I in so we can get some things? Or can you pass them through the door? We need blankets, or rags long enough to tie around our faces, and any water skins that might be spare. And any healing tonics you might have that we might be able to use to Dimira or the others should they be well enough to drink one."
As Ka'narg backtracks to Roldare's holdout, Jaer leaves the bulk of her gear to one side, near the entrance to the down-and-up tunnel leading towards the now-felled statue and its dais, before encroaching just a touch closer to the smoke-exuding door, eyes narrowing as the black clouds rise.
"Well...guess that's one benefit to bein' small," she mutters.
Roldare pauses. His eyes are still wide; he's wrapped himself in one of the bedrolls and, as he removes it, he shivers in the half darkness, dimly lit by one of the lanterns. "Oh, I .. oh."
He passes two blankets and two waterskins out through the door. "These are what you left," he says. "You can refill the waterskins at the pool, after you've swum."
The he passes out two bottles marked "healing". "We brought these with us." He blinks sadly. "I hope Dimira won't need them. She's fearful, like me, you see."
Jaer approaches the doorway.
The corridor to the south is lit by flickering flames, apparently some yards distant along bend to the east. The smoke is disconcerting but there's not the degree of heat that would indicate a raging fire in the corridor beyond - whatever fire there is is generating a little light and plenty of pungent smoke. Whether the fire is actually getting worse is unclear; a build up of smoke seems to have escaped when the door was pushed open, but it's also continuing to build.
"Thank you Roldare. I hope she won't need them, either." he says, pocketing one of the healing tonics and giving the other to Harken.
With Harken standing guard, Ka'narg takes his dagger and begins to cut strips about eight inches in width and long enough to be wrapped around his face and tied behind his head, muttering prayers to Gozreh has he does. Once he has seven strips, he takes three of them and lays them on the floor, pouring the contents of his own waterskin over them, and slipping one back through the door along with the other blanket so that Roldare may stay warm still. "Roldare, put this over your mouth if the smoke worsens. I pray to the Wind and the Waves that this will be enough."
As he stands, he hands another of the wet strips to Harken and picks up his double axe. "Thank you for standing guard, friend. We should get back to the others," Ka'narg says with a weak smile, though his eyes betray his worry.
When they get back to the rest of the group, Ka'narg takes the other strips and dampens them with another waterskin before handing them out to the group. He looks at Keshy as he does and stops short, having not accounted for the lizardfolk's unique facial features. "Oh. I'm sorry. I hope this will be enough, he says, handing both the remaining damp strip and his own over.
Thanks, Nargs. It'll do fine and dandy. Refusing Ka'Nargs own strip however. Keshik will do his best to cover his mouth with the piece of cloth for himself.
"Not a bad idea hork. Some use for you still." Harken chides the ranger and then uses the strip over his face.
Nodding her thanks and promptly tying the cloth over her lower face, Jaer jumps up her short sword and dagger into a tighter grip.
"I'll be ahead!" she says, the words somewhat muffled by the cloth as she pushes the door a little wider, enough to slip through, and flees on ahead, careful to keep her footsteps light and her eyes keen. That the fire hasn't progressed to the point of a blatant bonfire is probably a good sign, but without a clear cause she's as curious as she is concerned.
The southern corridor bends east and ends in a room with a fire at its centre. The room itself isn't aflame; the central furnace is bleeding pungent smoke into the air and here - hanging half-in, half-out of the flames - is yet another human corpse. From the entrance to the chamber Jaer can't make out any details to the body; the lower part, within the fire, has mostly burned away but the charred torso is silhouetted by the flame, a clawed hand raised almost in supplication to the heavens. The scene casts ghastly shadows on the wall, through the choking fumes.
Ka'narg ties his own dampened blanket strip across his own mouth begins to make his way cautiously down the hallway towards Jaer, his grip tight around the haft of the double axe.
Grimacing at yet another heap of charred remains, Jaer swallows, turning back to give Ka'narg a quick shake of the head--no immediate hostilities or traps. Or so it seems.
Trying her best to hug to the wall, she skirts south, near to the furnace, peering around the corner in an attempt to see what else this room has to offer...
Ka'narg turns around to look at his companions still in the room with the beetle's corpse and motions for them to come forward, even as he slips around the corner to move in to the edge of the room where Jaer was standing a few moments prior.
The south-western corner of the room is no different from the rest, with flickering shadows cast by the fire playing across the sides of the room, dominated by the silhouette of the body at the centre. The room's roof is high (maybe 20 feet), and there's a chimney in the middle of the ceiling to accommodate the fire, but the fumes are settled, spreading through the corridor and not rising.
And as a result of the fumes, Ka'narg is overcome with coughing -
Squinting again throughout the room, Jaer soon spies the sliver of a key. A little ash-ridden but good as any other, she sheathes her dagger to relieve a hand before tucking the worked bit of metal down the back of her boot, huffing a smile. At least until Ka'narg starts hacking up a lung, reminding her of the fumes dancing about their heads.
"Right!" The Halfling bounces a little, knowing there's not much she can do to help with that, save work to keep their exposure short, and moves her way across to the half-roasting body. The eerie lighting doesn't help as she attempts to shift the poor victim from their hellish fate--but the flash of something else within the flame takes her attention from the shadows painting the walls and the unfortunate scene that casts them.
Illya stays with the group quietly following irritated by the smoke and smells. she tied the strip over her mouth like the others.
Keshy will follow Jaer and Ka'Narg, keeping his Scythe at the ready. The firelight gleams against the the unfittingly wicked blade of the Paladin.
Oh no... Muffled speech is barely heard through the lizards mouth at the oddly unsettling sight.
Hallowed names aside, it really doesn't look like he was forced in there does it? I don't... I really don't understand...
The stench of the burning body mixes in with the smoke, and despite his own precautions which seem to be helping his companions, Ka'narg is wracked with a gut-wrenching cough, entwined with waves of nausea that cause him to become quite dizzy. He turns around and crouches by the nearest wall, one hand against the brickwork to steady himself as he closes his eyes and waits for the sickness to pass.
...
Harken still coughs with the rag over his mouth and nose to protect from the smoke... but tries to keep up with the others. Even in the back of the formation Harken steadies himself against the crypt walls and has obscured vision...
...[dice=FORT]1d20+5 ...
"Any chance that is the flame we are looking for? If not any chance we can extinguish it? Cant see anything in this smoke..."
Irgal, near the back of the group, is also overcome with coughing, and doubles over.
As Jaer goes to move the body, she can see the face of the body, a young male villager, eyes still open in a grimace of sheer, unforgettable terror, one hand held out in a last, desperate, clawing act of self defence. As she tugs at the body, the charred torso pulls back for the fire, but its shadow on the wall breaks into two, so that while the shadow of the moving body moves along the wall, another darker shadow remains. This figure, inky black, only vaguely humanoid in outline and writhing with unholy life, climbs slowly to its feet, forward from the wall and leaps towards Jaer.
Jaer looks round just in time to dodge the shadow's lunge towards her.
Ka'narg stumbles forwards and continues to hack up a lung, even as Jaer fights for her life against the shadow. Feeling the last of the nausea subside, he readies himself to act once the last of the coughing is finished.
Jaer's battle stance comes back into its own as she recovers from her impromptu dodge, but when all she finds is the transparent limb of a dark, almost formless thing, her first instinct is...actually a fairly reasonable line of expletives, all things considered. Is that...was that a shadow? Did a figure literally just come to life off the wall and try to grab at her?! Desna's drawers, what in sweet Heaven's name was she supposed to do to that?! Stab it? Wasn't much on it she could see worth stabbing. No smack here for massive damage, like her pa' used to jest; not when there's barely anything there at all.
"Guyyys..." Beneath her cloth, Jaer swallows, a hiccup of nervous laughter ebbing into her voice as she meekly finishes: "Help?"
Still eyeing the weapon left in the furnace, the Halfling nimbly backtracks from the unearthly creature, attempting to make herself as small as possible in the process, and deftly dives a hand into the flame, intending on grabbing what little she can see of worth--fire and burns be damned--before enacting some form of escape.
I'm coming don't worry
Illya pushes past her allies moving into the room shooting a snowball at the shadowy figure
"Are we charging in....?....or are we coming back out due to the smoke....? Not a good idea to fight in cramped space with smoke and visibility issues...What are we fighting?" Harken says from the back unable to see the foe due to the layout and the smoke...
Nope! Bad day, bad day! Jaer, we gotta get out! Keshy will move to leave with the group if those in the room already are also leaving.
Jaer reaches into the flames and pulls out the dagger, burning herself painfully in the process. The dagger cools rapidly to the touch, while retaining a faint glow.
Illya's snowball spatters against the general area where the shadow seems to stand; it does relatively little damage to the apparition, but seems to slow it slightly; the shadow in its turn moves towards Jaer and makes to lunge at her again.
Fort saves for all except Irgal:
If folks are leaving the room then Harken will help usher them out until the last one leaves and then stand in the opening with his shield to protect the others while they gather their wits...
Ka'narg continues to retch, looking at Illya and Jaer. "Go!" he calls out, his voice hoarse and raw from the vile smoke. "I'm right behind."
Once the sorceress and the rogue have both left, Ka'narg will exit the room down the corridor, his face ashen and his breathing dry and raspy.
"Hot! Hot!" Jaer blows pointlessly at her hand, hissing as steam wafts off her fingers to join the smoke and fumes about their heads. That the dagger doesn't cease to glow after losing its heat strikes her as odd, but she's not in a right mind to do much other than curse a little and run.
Once everyone is out of the room Harken closes the door and pushed against it in case something tries to get out...
"What in the blazes went on in there?"
Heh. Blazes. It's funny cause... sorry. I don't really know. There was something weird in there and it swung past Jaer. Is everyone okay?
As the party escapes the room, the shadow doesn't move to give chase. It seems to be tied in some strange way to the body by the fire.
The fumes disperse throughout the dungeon and probably into the next room, there being no doorway, but the air is breathable and the flow from the room with the fire is now blocked.
"Just because I'm part Nidalese don't mean I like the thought of bein' groped by a damn shadow!" Jaer huffs, taking a moment to drop the still-glowing dagger and wave her burnt digits about as though they were still on fire. "But I'm good. Lil' roast, sure, but good."
When the pain dulls however, she glances again to the luminescent weapon, now laid unceremoniously at her feet, and gives the handle a quick experimental prod. "Um. Is that supposed to do that?"
Pale and shaky from fume inhalation, Irgal responds, "I'm sorry, something was supposed to what, again?"
A look dawns over him as he slumps against the wall. "Was... Was that the Everflame?"
running out after the others Jaer are you alright?
"Keen as a whistle, miss; so long as that thing ain't comin'." Jaer gives Illya a thumbs up, the burns still a little raw but easily survived.
"Say, you're the magic sort, aye?" Sheathing her own short sword, the Halfling carefully props up the (slightly oversized) blade into a hand. "What's your opinion on 'weapons that inexplicably glow'?"
Magic can do that, she wields her own blade for a moment using arcane strike to make her's glow briefly, but i can do a further examination if you wish when we have time, it can mean a lot of things