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Ghaenk's snowball smashes into the woman's face. The heavy packed ice makes a cracking sound as it whips her head back breaking her neck in one solid strike.
Caladrel's hand begins to crackle with raw power as electricity arcs all around it. Stepping up he slashes at the green warrior with his scimitar but ultimately misses. Though his overall goal works as the man is left wide open. Quickly he reaches and grasps the man's chest releasing the overwhelming power into him.
Ghaenk
Caladrel
Ulfgar
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Zyphus warriors (Green -6)
------------------------------
Cerin
Herald
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The warrior barely parries Ulfgar's blade out of the way as they strike back.
The zyphus warriors seem intent to fight to the death as they team up on Caladrel.
One of the picks slams into Caladrels shoulder, chipping his bone.
Ghaenk
Caladrel (6/8)
Ulfgar
------------------------------
Zyphus warriors (Green -6)
------------------------------
Cerin
Herald
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Cerin giggles wildly as the leader of this sect falls down with a cracking of bone and sinew, stepping back with murder and glee in his deep eyes he smiles at the remaining Zyphus warriors, waggling the puppet.
"Deathnotsoaccidental? Zyphus will be sad!"
He then touches Cal on the shoulder with a smile.
"May your strikes prove true"
Ulfgar's rage subsides and an exhausted look crosses his face. He doesn't seem to be in his most patient mood.
"Hustavan, hush. We'll get you out when we'll get you out.
Herald, wait, lets check these men out for clues first."
He seems to be trying to hide his exhaustion
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Oh, yes. Yes, of course.
The Herald secretly praises himself for being in better physical shape than the sturdy young dwarf as he moves away from the door.
Poor young lad. I knew it. "Swallow a pebble every day and your bowels will forever clean stay". I keep telling them, but does anyone listen? No. Fools! Hmpff. Maybe this one will be receptive to my wisdom?
He claps Ulfgar on the back and hands him a pebble with a meaningful glance and a gesture towards his mouth, then wanders away to check the bodies.
Some moments later, anyone glancing at the Herald may notice him holding his stomach in pain briefly. Herald doesn't even notice any more.
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Cerin giggles madly as the remaining cultists fall in a font of blood and cries of anguish, his dark eyes alight as if seeing this as a grand opera in its own right. Moving over the dead nobles and cultists, the Dread Gnome rummages unabashed through noble and warrior alike, pocketing anything remotely interesting.
"SoUlfgar, why the long shaft?" he asks in all seriousness, examining the Dwarf's weapon with puppet out stretched. "Neverwantedtotearopponentwithbearhands?"
Cerin stares off into the distance slightly and nods.
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Opening the door reveals a smaller room.
Violet Entrance: A gaudy, marbled hallway with finely carved pillars, the white floor here is split by a deep violet carpet. This entrance is reserved for the king and anyone he considers to be part of the royal court.
Little is found in the room besides slightly broken furniture.
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Once Ulfgar is recovered and everyone agrees, Herald opens the door and enters the Violet Entrance.
Hmpf. I'm not impressed with the trappings of royalty, and neither should you be. There are far more powerful entities in the 'verse, and consider yourself lucky that most of them are completely unaware of you.
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"Its definitly not compensating, Cirin.
Do you know the tale of the five hundred Dwarves who held the mountain pass to Kellar's keep? An orc horde of fifteen thousand warriors wanted to invade the keep, but the five hundred brave Dwarves used clever tactics to keep the horde at bay and made used of these longaxes to kill as much orcs before they were overrun. Of the fifteen thousand orc warriors, only a thousand remained before the Dwarves finally fell. Kellar's keep could easily fend of these last few orcs and didn't fall that day. It is in honor of those men I carry my weapon today, and will carry until I die."
He turns to Herald as the man makes another comment of the powerful entities.
"So why worry about it Herald? They're unaware of us after all."
Ulfgar looks into the Violet Entrance.
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Caerin nods at Ulfgar's tale, though it is not certain whether he was absorbing it or not. As the Herald opens the door, the blue-haired gnome blurts out but a single word.
"Purple!"
Shaking his head slightly, Cerin steps behind the Herald and peers around the man's large unusual shield at the display of opulence evident in the room and casts a very simple spell.
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"Why worry about it?" I'm glad you asked. Herald settles into a long-practiced (and long-winded) sermon that's he's performed for adoring cheering indifferent crowds all the way from Cheliax to Tian Xian.
The Outer Powers, of which my horrible patron is but one, would drive you crazy to even catch a glimpse of them. Desna, Iomedae, Irori, Pharasma, even Asmodeus! They are so powerful we call them "gods". But they are but pawns in an unknowable game played by the Powers, and we are but the mites on the eyelids of ants as the planet under them is destroyed. Your soul he points in turn to everyone and yours and yours and yours and yours, will be devoured for a billion years in agony you can't even imagine, but I have had a glimpse of it. Mark my word, the ten thousand years it will take for They-She-It to arrive here will not be enough. We must start now to develop the magic known as "H'eye Tek" if we ever hope to repel She-He-They. We will need New Clear Bombs and Jigga-What Lay-Sirs and Constitution-class Starships -- whatever those things are -- if we hope to save ourselves. Mark my words, you will come to believe eventually...
He continues on indefinitely until interrupted or no one is listening any more.
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Cerin detects little magic as the group continues on through the House of the Immortal Son.
Back Stage: These three rooms are combination storage and dressing areas. The floors are painted black and the walls are covered in dozens of painted handbills and posters of previous operas performed here. Dozens of costume racks and painted backdrops are set up here to be wheeled out on stage for the proper scenes. Within the room are a set of spiral staircases leading down below.
Various parts of a dozen corpses lie strewn about the floor. Blood
and gore stain everything, making the floor slick and filling the
room with a metallic aroma. Bodies lie askew, mouths hanging
open in silent screams, faces contorted in fear.
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Herald mutters to himself. Or perhaps It-He-She is already here.
He glances around apprehensively before deciding against the idea.
He addresses one of the corpses at random.
What killed you, eh? Was it bigger than a planet and ravenous for the suffering of mortal souls? No? Then count yourself fortunate.
Herald leaves the corpse alone and searches for clues as to who the victims were and what killed them.
If nothing is found , Herald is glad to lead the way to the next room, leaving the stairs until the theater itself is completely explored.
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Cerin stares in rapt attention at the Herald's sermon, hanging off every word and nodding enthusiasticly, seeming to forget the situation they were all in he suddenly glazes off and snaps to attention.
"All actors are requested back stage" he murmurs before following the strange Cleric, looking out at the carnage wreaked here he supresses a giggling fit and again starts to rummage and rifle through the pockets of the recently deceased.
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Before going down in the hole The Herald notices movement within the bodies. Four of the commoner's bodies slowly begin to rise all around the group as Cerin looks around for magic.
Cerin
Calarel
Herald
Ghaenk
Ulfgar
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Zombies
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Just as the corpses begin to stir, Cerin looks up in anticipation and opens his mouth to speak but a single word.
"Zombies!"
The corpses then stand and Cerin steps back in fright staring at the rotting flesh facing him. Raising the puppet once more, he matches the Herald's wave of goodly energy with his own power of the negative plane, seeking to wrench control of the undead from the foul powers that raised it.
"KillKillKill my puppets!"
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Cerin's wave of negative energy seems to halt one of the zombies from rising slightly as it's meaty fists stop mere inches from Ulfgar's head.
It slowly shambles around Ulfar towards the zombie in the yellow vest.
Caladrel fumbles around with his bow a bit as he fires an arrow into the ceiling nearly hitting Hustavan who yelps in panic. You crazy lout. Do you even know what you are doing with that? Hustavan screams as he smacks Caladrel's hand, nearly knocking his bow to the ground.
The herald does likewise and releases a wave of positive energy that burns at the zombies flesh.
Ghaenk's ray of frost strikes a nearby crate containing props and costumes for the play.
Ulfgar slams his axe into the yellow zombies head, ending its unlife as it falls to the ground permanently.
The purple zombie shambles forward while the green zombie slams it's body at Cerin.
The zombie seems to get hung up on all the crates in the room as it struggles and moans getting to Cerin.
Cerin (Red- controlled)
Calarel
Herald
Ghaenk
Ulfgar
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Zombies (Purple -5)(Red -5)(Green -3)
---------------------------------
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Cerin giggles as he feels his control strengthen on the red-eyed zombie and points at the one attacking him, ordering his zombie to attack the green skinned creature attempting to slam him.
His giggling is cut short as Cerin realises he is trapped between boxes and corpses. The Dread gnome calls to Cal opposit.
"Cut the Zombie! I distract!"
for
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Even with the distraction Cerin still misses the zombie as Caladrel moves in and slams his guantlet into the undead's back side.
The Herald moves closer around the crates and finishes off the zombie with his morningstar. The zombie's head splashes open releasing all of the fresh gore and contents about the costumes hanging on the crates.
Ghaenk's aim doesn't seem to be improving but rather getting worse while Ulfgar steps up and brains the remaining zombie.
The only zombie left standing is the one under Cerin's control, for the time being.
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Herald addresses Cerin.
"Must you keep that abomination following you around? It's going to start smelling bad."
Not waiting for an answer, he begins searching the bodies.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Cerin shrugs slightly and seems to have an animated and whispered discussion with his puppet. After a moment the dread gnome shrugs and looks at herald through his dark blue fringe, a dark smile on his face.
"I don't keep them around, just use them when they are useful, see? You can all practice cutting this one, seems you need it."
Ordering the Zombie to stay still, Cerin begins rummahing through the bodies himself.