|
DC15: Gain a +2 bonus on all Fortitude saves against severe weather while moving up to half your overland speed, or gain a +4 bonus if you remain stationary. You may grant the same bonus to one other character for every 1 point by which your Survival check result exceeds 15.
"By the Prince of Darkness's sweaty balls, it is hot down here!"
[ooc]Ok, So Faustus isn't helping any one, but is basking in the heat, as if he were experiencing The Pit.
The inquistor takes a few precautions on surviving the heat, and then says, "Well, I guess we should keep moving, here. Let's check out that metal tower. Looks... interesting."
|
"Whew... Its like a sauna in here.."
Cyrus wipes the sweat that is forming on his forehead with his forearm. Drawing his blade, he moves forward, concerned for his friend and how they are dealing with the heat.
Living in the desert sands of Osirion, Cyrus felt accustomed, even if it had been a while since he had spent considerable time in the heat. Even he wasn't sure how long he would be able to hold out before feeling the effects of heat exhaustion though.
Moving forward, he does a quick circle around the tower, being careful not to touch it in case it is the source of the heat. He looks for hatches, openings, buttons or levers, anything that might give him a clue as to its function.
"Ibid, Miro, what do you think?"
Heat deals nonlethal damage that cannot be recovered from until the character gets cooled off (reaches shade, survives until nightfall, gets doused in water, is targeted by endure elements, and so forth). Once a character has taken an amount of nonlethal damage equal to her total hit points, any further damage from a hot environment is lethal damage.
|
"Whew! I could get used to this!" The Halfling looks at his companions, most of whom appear in various stages of sweating half to death. Miro's head cocks quizzically, as if he can't understand what the hell is wrong with them. He finally shrugs.
"You guys look tired. Then again, moving those big bodies and armor around probably takes a lot more work than what I put forth. Let's go ahead and check things out before you sweat yourselves into an early grave."
As the Prthfinder adjust to the sweltering heat, they observe the metal tower. They notice that there are arrow slits on all sides and a crenellated battlement atop it that is stuck into the ceiling. There is also a small door.
|
With everyone crowded together, Lort decides to play a summertime prank he noticed the priests of Sarenrae casting on the kids.
"Create water!" he chants.
Ten gallons of water appears in the air above those closest to the door, in large spread-out globules. They hang there, magically suspended as they increase in volume. Once the conjuration magic that brought the water here from the gods-know-where on Golarion has finished its work, it lets go and the lead three pathfinders (including Lort) are completely drenched.
"Ha! That was delightful!" shouts Lort while clearer heads examine the tower, "Let me know if and when you'd like me to bash that puny door inwards."
As Lort questions his friends, a voice can be heard form instide the metal tower. "I say, I do admire your tenacity you foolish knights. Even my companions at Tar Kuata would have recognized a fools errand by now. On second thought, it is not your tenacity, but your lack of intellect. Have you not tried to break down this door unsuccessfully many times? Have you not tried to break these walls? I except nothing less from Knights of Rovagug."
|
|
"Uhh..." Cyrus screws up his face in confusion, breaking his attention down what appears to be a continued hallway past the metal tower.
Whispering to his companions, though maybe not all that quiet.. "Maybe he is trying to trick us... He can clearly see us through the arrow slits..."
More loudly, and to the person inside the tower, he says, "You claim to be from Tar Kuata? Prove it. We are not Knights of Rovagug, but emissaries from the monastery, and allies of the monks, here to wipe the stain of Rovagug and his mindless knights from this region. If you are from Tar Kuata, and one of our allies, then we can still help each other. However if you are one of the lying insects of Rovagug, know that your puny door will not hold us back, and your minutes are now numbered."
As rustling can be heard from inside the structure. "Ah, you do not appear to be knights. I am Bertrag. Who sent you here?"
|
|
"We are here on behalf of the monks of Tar Kuata," bellows Lort, not having a subtle bone in his body, "And if you're having trouble with the knights of Rovagug, then you have no quarrel with us. They shall soon be tasting our metal."
Lort sheathes his sword to show he bears no ill-intent, but adds, "And if I tried to break down that door, we would not be having this conversation!" There may be some small creature down in the deepest pits of the mine, sheltered by a myriad of walls that did not hear Lort's last boast, but it seems unlikely.
"I ask again, who sent you?"
|
|
"Hold, good Lort. I think we can resolve this without any door-bashing, as long as this fellow knows were with the 'right' folk." He puts a calming hand on the half-orc's arm, before addressing the man inside.
"Aye, Aeotsep, and Itephta, of the Monastery. Please let us in so we can discuss what is going on."
The half-orc almost break his shoulder on the door, as he bounces back. A faint metal ringing can be head, and the door looks in perfect shape.
It opens and out walks the dwarven Ouat monk Bertrag. He is disheveled and a bit ripe, thinner than other Ouat monks that you have seen but in good spirits.
"Well met, I of course, am Bertrag. I can only assume that you are an envoy sent from Tar Kuata to rescue me." he says with a grin. "Not that I need rescuing, but it is nice to know that they care and still think of me." he says with a twinkle of his eye.
"We have little time to waste, I was patrolling the mountains when I was ambushed by the Doomsday Knights. Rather than escape, I offered to accompany the knights willingly. I told them 'I would rather be sacrificed properly than slaughtered like a desert animal.' Those idiot knights believed I would make a most fitting tribute to Rovagug and agreed.
In truth, I hoped to pinpoint their lair, study the group, and escape. It really is a simple task for me. However, once I discovered that there were other prisoners being periodically sacrificed to some monster, I instead elected to stay and defend the captives as best I could.
Unfortunately, I was unable to sneak the prisoners out. My only recourse was to activate my instant fortress and I kept everyone safe since. The cultists have tried to breach the fortress everyday. Thought you were those morons.
I have kept these prisoners alive through fasting and meditation exercises while awaiting a rescue party. I can create water at will, so everyone is hydrated and cool, albeit hungry.
Please tell me you killed those Doomsday Knights on your way down here? What about that powerful beast?"
The Pathfinders can see inside the fortress five emaciated shapes laying on the floor.
|
|
When the first breath of the heat wave hits the group, Amaranti smiles. He likes warm, a man of hot climate. It is enjoyable to feel the warmth on one's skin. But almost immediately his smile disappears - This is not warm! These are fires of hell! Amaranti glances to the inquisitor if he had something to do with this.
Once the heat becomes too oppressive, the Garundi stars digging his backpack. "I know I have it here..." he mumbles, furiously rummaging his belongings. Finally he retrieves a scroll, and with great relief reads the spell contained.
|
|
"Bertrag is it? Unfortunately, no, we did not slay the Doomsday Knights. Yet. We haven't seen them, though I did turn someone's homunculus into paste.
"And which powerful beast are you talking about?
"Say, who were those folks that are laying there next to you?"
Faustus gets a +4 due to Monster Lore on his check.
His knowledge skills (without the +4) are:
Arcana: +7
Dungeoneering: +7
Local: +9
Nature: +7
Planes: +7
Religion: +8
Additionally, the always suspicious Faustus will sense motive:
"These poor folks are prisoners that I rescued from the Knights. If any of you could spare some food and see to their health. I have done the best I could keeping them safe, but we have had no food for over a week. I had hoped you had taken care of the knights so I could escape with these poor people. Problem is this chamber is too low for my fortress to fully expand, so it cut into the roof above us. If I take it down, I fear that this cavern will collapse.
All is know is that beast can spin webs. Looked like a blob with mouths all over it, and arms too."
|
|
Faustus immediate goes to his backpack, offering up the two day's trail rations he has left. He also offers what water that he has, and gives a look to the rest that they should do the same. He looks the people over, to see if they need any immediate medical help, or is it primarily only food and water.
|
|
Lort rushes forwards and gladly gives the remainder of his rations to these folk. If any are suffering from heat stroke, he douses them in a Lort-style shower and will remove any nonlethal damage with a channel energy.
"Don't worry, Bertrag, we will soon deal with the knights and you will be able to get out of this..." Lort surveys his surroundings, "Remarkable magical fortress. I really must see what I can do about getting my own one of these. Imagine this addition to Lort the Mighty's Travelling Shrine to Kurgess and Battle Arena! The fights, the races and the wrestling matches that could be had here!"
"You all have my gratitude. I know that the knights' living quarters is south of here, and they usually pray east of here. To the west is a horrible place that makes it feel comfortable here. It'd be my guess that is where the cult leader and his creature are.
I'd hate to lose my fortress. Anyone have any ideas on how to retrieve it? Mayhaps we can work on getting you one after we get out of this mess."
|
|
"Of course we will aid however we can," the old man finally pipes up, reaching into his pack and pulling free his remaining rations. The beads of sweat at running in rivulets down his face, and the heat seems to be sapping his strength with each passing second.
These poor souls, he thinks, continuing to pass out his stock of food.
"We will find a way to support the tunnel, making good your escape with these people. And by our hands, this cult leader will soon leave this mortal coil, but he will not be lonely, as we will be sure to send his pet along, so they can keep each other company after whatever judgement awaits them in the boneyard," Ibid says, sketching what he can see of the tunnel and scrawling some untidy calculations onto the page. He also turns the page and makes notes regarding the creature's description, hoping to determine its origin and, more importantly, any weaknesses.
|
|
"Agreed, with the addition of slaying the leader and this creature," says Lort, perhaps a little too eagerly, "Please, Bertrag, if you can remember any more details about the creature, I'm sure my friend Ibid here will be able to better prepare to fight it. Of course, I fully expect that hitting it hard with this will do the trick!" Lort behaves like he always does and pats his enormous sword while grinning.
"Pathfinder, Irori be praised for your timely intervention. I will make my way towards Tar Kuata with these prisoners. We hope to see you on the road. May you slay these infidels with impunity." Before he leaves, he gives you the command word to retract the Instant Fortress on your exit.
|
|
Cyrus, having eagerly given up his rations to the starving refugees and the monk, smiles at his blessing as they depart.
"why don't we head down and get the jump on the minions before taking out their leader. It might not matter what order, but either way I want to make sure the deed is done before we remove this fortress and let the ceiling collapse on this foul place."
"oh, I also have an extra one of these..." he says, pulling out his 2 copies of endure elements.
Cyrus gets a little mischievous grin as he puts the belt on, then flexes his muscles, and fires a couple of push ups, feeling the increase in strength.
"this will be fun!" he says, taking a few experimental swings with his blade.
The Pathfinder make their goodbyes with Bertrag and the prisoners, wishing him safe travels. Hopefully they emerge victorious and can meet up with him on the road.
They make their way down the path into the knights' camp, the spot the knights prepared for battle in the hallway to the east.
|
|
"Remember, our mission is to kill the followers of the Rough Beast, not talk to them. No quarter shall be given, none expected. Let us send these followers of Corruption to the Boneyard swiftly. Grate is Asmodeus!"
He checks the heft on The Final Arbitration and tries to determine how much time he has left on his spell (if he thinks it has been over four minutes, he will recast it.).
|
|
Cyrus, realizing they are close to battle, gets out his wand of shield and tries to cast it before they get to close.
With a shimmering shield in front of him, he pulls out his exquisitely crafted crossbow and loads a bolt, hoping to get a shot off before running into melee.
As soon as they round the corner and see the knights, he grins again and springs into action. Stepping forward enough to leave Lort and Faustus room to rush into melee, he raises the crossbow, putting Patrick in the crosshairs.
for
Faustus advances proclaiming for all to hear about his evil deity long grudges, but then hits Patrick hard with his mace. The young ninja sizes him up and fires his crossbow. The bolt, however, bounces harmlessly off his armor. Lort the half-orc then steps up and delivers a wicked two-handed chop that cuts deep into his shoulder causes him to drop his waraxe.
|
|
Fulfilling the role it was bound to from the beginning, Kaisharga carries its master with pride, and with great sense of purpose. The distance is short, so the eidolon keeps its wings folded and slithers along the hot ground, still gaining enought speed to create enough momentum for a devastating charge.
|
|
Taking a few hurried steps forward, the old man can feel the unmistakable tingle of latent power coursing through his veins as Miro's spell falls upon him. At the end of his run, Ibid slides to a stop and raises his bow, looking down the length of the arrow, taking aim at the nearest visible target.