Too tired to go home, Eoghan removes his armour and joins Justin on the pew.
Snowflake sighs like he has a headache.
"No, Justin, this is not the part where killing this "Head Vampire" of yours, grant salvation for..these children. The gods, however, might grant me the power to heal them myself, if I get to survive this experience"
Regarding elf/human feats, sure you can take them, if they make sense.
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only lawful adventuring party ever
There is some time to shop before you leave for Foxglove manor.
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Justin wakes up, pokes his lumpy Eoghan mattress , and pries himself bodily from the sweet clutches of sleep by rolling over onto the floor. He heads to the bathroom in what only the most polite attempts at not being speciest wouldn't describe as a scurry towards the facilities before returning to open his grimoire on the pew.
His spell "book"...is apparently an amalgamation of different size shaped colored and textured bits of paper , althought the stitching holding it all together is exquisitely precise and the mottled felt cover seems to be newish. He studies it intently, barely taking his eyes off of the pages as he prestidigitates the clothing spotless.
"I think the foxgloves are looking for a more timely arrival than a publicly presentable one. Any word if Vovoshali got a message through? I can send a message back but you'd need to leave someone here. It comes right to a spot not to a person. And there's no guarantee I'll have the spell to spare for it."
"PLEASE be careful while we're gone. There could be another goul army out there, or he may pass by us and come for the priest. I mean he was really distracted doing long division with dayos piles of silver. "
One quick trip to the alchemists and he's ready to go.
Eoghan groggily wakes up, relieves himself, and inspects his face in a mirror. He's growing quite some stubble now, but he shrugs and doesn't even bother combing his hair. He watches Justin clean his clothes, then self-consciously smells his own shirt.
"Er, Justin? If it's not too much trouble, could you clean my clothes as well?"
You get the feeling he's asking more for your sake than for his own.
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A quick breakfast and a trip round the shops, and you're back in the saddle.
The route leading out to Foxglove Manor is a 3-mile hike along a narrow path that follows the Foxglove River from the covered bridge where it flows under the Lost Coast Road to the dark sea cliffs overlooking the Varisian Gulf. Here, wild sea birds call out to a roaring ocean that churns hundreds of feet below.
As you near Foxglove Manor, it almost seems as if nature herself has become sick and twisted. Nettles and thorns grow more prominent, trees are leaf less and bent, and the wind seems unnaturally cold and shrill as it whistles through the cliffside crags. The path slowly rises, bending around a steep corner in the cliffs, and then Foxglove Manor looms at the edge of the world.
The strangely cold sea wind rises to a keening shriek as Foxglove Manor comes into view. The place has earned its local nickname of the “Misgivings” well, for it almost appears to loathe its perch high above the ocean, as if the entire house were poised for a suicide leap.
The roof sags in many places, and mold and mildew cake the crumbling walls. Vines of diseased-looking gray wisteria strangle the structure in several places, hanging down over the precipitous cliff edge almost like tangled braids of hair.
The house is crooked, its gables angling sharply and breached in at least three places, hastily repaired by planks of sodden wood. Chimneys rise from various points among the rooftops, leaning like old men in a storm, and grinning gargoyle faces leer from under the eaves.
"This place could use a Hermean touch," Dayo says as he calmly walks forward.
"Wow, I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't... this. This is too depressing, even for me."
Eoghan takes a look around to see if anything catches his eye. He also pays special attention to the remains of whatever building is nearby.
It’s impossible to tell how many floors the outbuilding that stood here once had, for all that remains are the sooty, scorched stones of its foundation. To the east, a four-foot-wide stone well sits, partially collapsed, in the corner of the ruins. If Eoghan had to guess, the well is about a 100 ft. deep.
As Dayo and Eoghan approach the building, a few sickly looking ravens that were perched on the foundation stone clumsily fly away.
"Was anyone actually supposed to be living here?"
Vitro looks suspiciously at the gargoyle trying to catch it moving.
Eoghan catches Vitro eyeing the gargoyle.
"Want me to throw a rock at it? You can never be to sure."
"Shall we knock, first?"
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"Technically it's a grotesque. To be a gargoyle it would have to shoot the water off the building and be functional, making a "gargling" sound. Hence the name. "
Justin gets going on his 15 second work day
"Group hug
Mage Armor Dayo (the rest of his life)
+4 dex Reduce person dayo ((6 minutes)
+6 dex Cats Grace Dayo (extended from trait)= 16 minutes
+4 str Enlarge person Eoghan (6 minutes)
+6 str Bulls Strength Eoghan (6 minutes)
"Lets not pretend they don't know we're coming. Those spells don't last long. Yet. "
Dayo draws his newly enchanted broadsword. It glows with a soft bluish light. "Very well. But we will not make the same mistake we made in the corn field. If we aren't sure of someone's intent, we talk first."
Vitro casts Mage Armor but keeps Shield in reserve for now, maybe the monsters will never get past the... monsters...
The Bull's Strength is +6, right?
"Would you like me to try to open the doors remotely, or do you want to be up close? Eoghan, are you satisfied the doors aren't trapped?"
Eoghan takes another good look at the front doors, just in case.
"I prefer focusing on kyūsho... Or how do you say... I think you call them 'pressure points', in Common."
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I moved us up on the assumption that open/close wouldn't work. We don't get that lucky.
"I prefer focusing on kyūsho... Or how do you say... I think you call them 'pressure points', in Common.""That would be the face "
"Oh. Okay. Thank you. Common has so many words that mean multiple things!"
I moved us up on the assumption that open/close wouldn't work. We don't get that lucky.
The door doesnt respond to open close but doesnt seem to be trapped.
Trying the handle, it doesnt turn, the door appears to be locked.
"Ergh, okay, let's try this again. Snowflake, could you give me a Guidance?"
Eoghan fishes out his lockpicks and starts fiddling with the lock.
Hope that fifth try does it, otherwise we're screwed. Takes 36 seconds, total. First the take 10, then five more tries.
EDIT: wait, -1 on all those checks. Being large gives me a -2 to DEX.
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For a house that looks so dilapitated, the lock is of great quality, and only on the sixth try does Eoghan manage to open it.
The doors swing open surprisingly easy.
The sound of the house straining and creaking gives this long, high-ceilinged room an additional sense of age and decay. The place smells damp, the unpleasant tinge of mold lacing the air as surely as it stains the wooden floor, walls, and furniture in pallid patches. Moldering trophies hang on the wall to the northeast: a boar, a bear, a firepelt cougar, and a stag, yet they pale in comparison to the monster on display in the center of the room.
Here crouches a twelve-foot-long creature with the body of a lion, a scorpion’s tail fitted with dozens of razor barbs, huge batlike wings, and a deformed humanoid face.