The City of Kaer Maga sits in the heart of Varisia, a vast stone hexagon of unknown origin perched high atop the cliffs of the Storval Rise. This cyclopean structure has existed for greater than 10,000 years and today it is a city of wonder, of intrigues and of mysteries.
Carved on the cliff face below the city are numerous representations of gigantic bodies and faces, though who these titanic carvings actually represent is a matter of some conjecture - the vanished runelords of ancient Thassilon, forgotten kings, dead gods, or someone else. Some of these massive sculptures lead into the Undercity, a dizzying network of caverns, tunnels and chambers, both natural and man-made, that riddle the cliffs beneath Kaer Maga.
One of the most famous entrances to the Undercity lies in the mouth of one of the giant faces known as the Unnamed King, and opens onto a series of ancient catacombs where the honoured dead of Kaer Maga are interred. From their cathedral in the Bottoms district of the city above, the clergy of Pharasma oversee the Godsmouth Ossuary, the most prestigious place in Kaer Maga to be buried - and the Pharasmins charge a hefty price for the honour.
For generations, Kaer Maga’s wealthy and powerful have been laid to rest in the Godsmouth Ossuary, thus far, their repose seems to be peaceful. Furthermore there seems to be no limit to the number of bodies that can be stored there – the Ossuary has existed for thousands of years, before the founding of the current city, and has yet to run out of room.
The Cathedral of Pharasma is a place of worship that truly never sleeps…for death itself does not sleep. Yet whilst the acolytes and lower clergy of the Church work tirelessly through the long night, it is unusual for the higher priestesses to be awake at a later hour. Tonight, in a small side chapel dedicated to a long dead saint, the severity of a certain situation mandates that the higher clergy meet in secret.
“Sister Nerissia, it is a late hour, pray tell us why you would have us here, in this somewhat cold crypt, rather than resting for tomorrow’s ceremonies”
Standing and turning to greet the two robed priestesses who have quietly entered the chapel, the waiting priestess smiles a thin smile and gestures at a nearby table, “Sister Thorn, Sister Rashael, thank you for coming…please take a seat”. Pouring a small goblet of wine for each of them, “I will get straight to the point…this concerns the matter of the missing bodies in the Ossuary…”
Sister Nerissia pauses, looking for a reaction from her fellow priestesses and when none is forthcoming, she continues, “There are some who say that this matter is no bad thing, that it may indeed be a solution to our overcrowding problem…I say to those people that you have lost your way…that our role is to aid our wards passage into the next life and to safeguard the vessels of their souls”, Sipping from her wine, “There is enough evidence to suggest that the bodies are being taken to the lower levels…for what purposes I could not say although I have my fears…as should you, my Sisters”.
The taller of the two other priestesses ventures a question, “What would you have us do Sister Nerissia? We do not enter the lower crypts and would, I fear, be poorly prepared for anything that may be down there…I have read accounts of attempts to chart the lower levels”, she winces, “they have never gone well”.
“Sister Thorn”, Sister Nerissia looks pointedly at her fellow Priestess, “I believe it is time that we relaxed our restrictions on entry into the Ossuary…and believe me, I do not suggest this lightly”.
The third priestess nods in agreement, “It is a sad day when we need to consider this, but I am compelled to agree…But who?”
“This is a matter that I have thought on for the last few weeks and I have, I believe, identified a group that can be trusted…and more importantly if it goes poorly, will not be missed”, reaching into her robes, Sister Nerissia brings forth five wrapped scrolls, “these are the summons to be sent to this group, please see to it that they arrive safely in the appropriate hands”.
“There is nothing more to be said on this matter, please ensure these messages are delivered and, my Sisters?”, Sister Nerissia smiles coldly, “Need I remind you of the implications of the City hearing that we are ‘losing’ their beloved forebearers?”. The two lower priestesses nod in acknowledgment of the severity of the situation and depart the chapel as quietly and as reverentially as when they had entered.
They don't understand. the mad Tengu mutters to himself in the gutter. They just came down from the sky and ate him. They were flowers. Who would believe that?
Yggdra looks up at the nervous runner, holding an envelope. His red eyes open terrifyingly wide and he charges the boy. Mine! he caws. The envelope is snatched out of his hand as the boy tumbles away.
He reads the letter and nods sagaciously. Of course! I should have known...
When the sisters approach the mad prophet, they see his glancing at his empty hands as if reading and mumbling to himself. He looks up and his eyes, surprisingly clear, smile. Hello sisters. I am ready. He picks up his bag full of junk and shuffles towards them.
Have you seen the gardens in spring time? The squirrels do such a marvelous job tending them, don't you think?
He shuffles alongs at a surprisngly good pace, for someone shuffling.
As they pass a tavern preparing for a day's business he shakes his head and says, It's a shame. I did enjoy drinking there in my youth. The tavern appears to be in fine shape and there's no real sign it's suffering.
Gah! Get it off! He is attacked by some phantom as they near the Cathedral. He shakes it off and finally enters the cathedral itself. Shaken.
Kane was glad he'd sent a letter ahead.
Travel was always difficult for him. No matter how heavy the cloak he wore, someone always saw something that set them to worrying and talking. Then it was only a matter of time before the inevitable confrontation. Sometimes people could be reasoned with. Mostly, they couldn't. Then he'd have to run. He hated running, but it was better than having to hurt people.
He'd heard of Kaer Maga. He thought he might be treated differently there, and he was, a bit, insomuch as that people simply paid less attention to him. It took nearly an hour for the stares and whispers to start, as opposed to the usual few minutes.
It was an interesting experiment, he supposed. Even in a city of every imaginable species, somehow the curse still sparked instinctual fear and distrust. Every culture had a boogyman, and he was a little bit of all of them.
He'd managed to reach the Temple before the small mob following him had swelled or armed themselves, and once inside he showed his family crest and asked to speak with Sister Nerissia.
His family's long and dedicated service to Pharasma was well known among the church, and while he did not know the priestess personally, she had known his mother and still corresponded with her regularly.
She was aware of his condition before he arrived, and yet even she was a bit startled when he took down the hood of his cassock.
She had become more comfortable with him in the weeks he had been staying at the temple. Eroding the subtle effects of the curse was no different than overcoming any other fear. Understanding and exposure was key. Even a few of the other members of the clergy had begun accepting him. He still hadn't ventured beyond the church walls much, but for the first time since he'd left the Wall, he felt at ease.
When Sister Nerissa had come to him and asked if he would be willing to investigate the disappearances of bodies from the Ossiary, Kane agreed immediately.
"Anything to repay the kindness you have shown me, Your Grace. From the moment I arrived, I have been yours to command. I am a Ravencourt. Sorting out these kinds of troubles is what we do."
Efka was in one of the poorer regions of Kaer Maga tending to a man with horrific burns. The man pleas "Please... don't burn me again, I beg you! I won't try to ever rob again.". Efka shakes her head and says "I'm sorry sir, it was impulse. Let me treat your wounds and you can be on your way."
"Hahaha! he shouldn't have tried to rob us Efka." says Ifka. "You should have let me kill him." Efka says "Shut up! This man didn't deserve to die for it!" The man looks confused at the crazed ifrit talking to herself.
After taking care of the man's wounds she travels back to the place she is staying. Efka whispers "You know you really need to stop burning people even if they are meaning to do you wrong. You could have just knocked him out." "But what fun would that be? I'll burn anyone who tries to harm you, Someone has to protect you."
She arrives and there is a messenger waiting there for her. The messenger hands the message to her and walks off. She begins to read the message and thinks Maybe this is it.. maybe this is why Sarenrae told me to come here.
She prepares her things and heads off to the temple. Along the way Efka whispers "Ifka, you need to behave and keep quiet. This is important and I do not need them to think they got someone crazy." Ifka snickers and says "You are crazy! Believing Sarenrae talked to you through the flames... I'll.. I'll behave, but it won't be any fun."
When the messenger enters the library it is just about deserted if it were not for a pair of scholars studying the history of Kaer Maga and the little beneficiary of the message.
Trexy could often be found in the library, exploring the myths and legends of Golarion. Trexy however is not one who finds it easy to sit quietly on her fanny and is oftentimes seen gesticulating heavily while reading; Imagining herself as a legendary hero living the myths of the land, pretending to combat the most dangerous traps and beasts found out there. A whimsical sight, that caused her to be expelled from libraries on multiple occasions.
Today was no different. Trexy was deeply sunk in her imagination as the messenger approached. Standing upright on a library chair balancing it on two legs, a book entitled “Secrets of the Asylum Stone” in one hand, her whip in the other, lashing it at her imaginary foes.
"If you wish to recuperate it, you’ll have to pass through me!" , Trexy yelled at an imaginary army of goblins.
"Excuse me ma’am, Vextrotter I presume? ", said the messenger.
BOINK!
The unexpected call to reality evoked by the voice of the messenger did not only cause her daydream to abruptly vanish but as did her balance as she crashed down from the chair onto the floor.
"Yes, that would be me. Trexy Vextrotter explorer extraordinaire, nice to meet you.", Trexy said staring up from the floor to the tall messenger standing beside her.
Horatio stood outside The Broken Monastery, taking in its destruction and the contemplating on the meaning. The pursuit of perfection leads to a lust for power and control in many. This is unfortunate. And not as it should be.
He felt a tug on his cloak and turned to see a small child. The boy was holding an envelope and extended it towards Horatio. Horatio took the note and started to read its contents, but was interuppted by a surprisingly deep clearing of the throat, followed by an equally surprising and deep voice coming from the child. "You don't give a f#~~ about my kids? Don't even get a tip?" Horatio reached into his pouch and withdrew a silver, unsure how much was appropriate for tipping a delivery. The man-child seemed satisfied, and turned to go.
He resumed reading the note and a small smile appeared on his face. He had only been gone from the monastery for a single day and already his task was being given. He gathered up his meager belongs and made his way to The Bottoms and the Ossuary. He had a couple of hours before the designated meeting time, but it would not do to be late.
The Cathedral to Pharasma in Kaer Maga is an imposing gothic structure and dominates the skyline in the Bottoms District. It looms over a large square where, during the day, residents of the city set up impromptu markets selling supposedly divine trinkets to bereaved families. The Pharasmin Church ignores this trade so long as marketeers remain respectful to the worshippers, the clergy and the clientele of the Cathedral; of course, there are also the persistent rumours that the Church demands a slice of any profit made within the market.
During the night however, this square is typically bereft of activity for this is not an area of the Botttoms where one would choose to carouse or socialise…anyone approaching the Cathedral could easily be observed by someone looking through any one of the multitude of Cathedral windows overlooking the square.
Tonight, such a person is sat quietly at a high arched window, anticipating the arrival of four visitors to the Cathedral. Sipping at a wine, Sister Nerissia watches and waits…
Sir Kane Ravencourt will, of course, be waiting at the Chapel already. I am gladdened to finally be able to give him a task that is suited towards his gifts…I just hope that the others will be able to see past his visage and recognise his inner qualities…
Noting the arrival of her first guest…a shuffling, jerking, shamble of rags scurrying across the square, Sister Nerissia, not for the first time, has a moment of doubt.
Are things truly that perilous that we should allow outsiders into our most sacred places? This poor wretch is a friend to our Church yet he is not a believer…indeed, I wonder whether he truly knows what he believes in…
As she observes the Tengu suddenly duck as if being assailed by flying beasts, she takes a large draught of wine…
Desparate times, desparate measures
Not long after the Beggar Prophet passes through the large entrance to the Cathedral, Sister Nerissia observes her second guest strolling across the square. It is dark and Ifka is a fair distance away yet Sister Nerissia is sure that the Ifrit appears to be deep in conversation with someone…yet there is surely no one there.
Placing her goblet on a table, Sister Nerissia stands, straightens her robes and watches for her final guests…
Though it does not take much for Trexy to get excited, the message she just received did an outstanding job at accomplishing just that.
Trexy immediately realized that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Never before has a gnome been called upon by the church of Pharasma. This had to be big, for them to call upon the aid of a little gnome archaeologist. This was bound take her where no gnome has ever gone before. THE opportunity she has been waiting for, THE chance to prove herself and write history.
Trexy dashed out the library, heading towards the cathedral as fast as her short legs would take her.
"Quick stop at home to pick up my stuff and then straight to the cathedral… for once don’t mess this up Trex!.. you got this! ", she thought to herself as made her way to her newly found destiny.
Kane knelt in the cathedral in quiet prayer. He'd been there for some time, kneeling before the altar.
As the others began to arrive he did not move from his prayers. He wore a heavy cassock, it's hood up looking for all the world like a large, pious but hunchback priest. He was apprehensive as always, but the presence of his goddess kept him tranquil.
He may not have been so calm had he realized his kneeling position exposed his scaled feet with their strange runes on the soles to the new arrivals.
So many gifts and he can count none of them. the milky white tengu says, sadly quiet. How will he ever know her love if he doesn't want to see it?
The shuffling mass of rags and trash approaches the alter. He bows deeply, not in obesience, but in respect. The Moon is ever present, until it is not.
Efka arrives shortly after the milky white tengu. She twirls her thumbs for a second then says "Hel..hello there.. I take you two got a letter as well?" I hope Ifka stays quiet for awhile until these people get to know me.. at least I'm not out of place.. seems they are some interesting fellows here.
The Tengu spins on his heels, Letter? No! A Calling have I. He gesticulates dramatically, letter still in hand. The wax seal of the church of Pharasma still clinging to the paper.
An out of breath gnome appears at the entrance gate to the church. I'm here about the.... *puffs* ...about the....*puffs*...letter...*puffs*.
Horatio climbed the stairs to the Ossuary at the appointed time. He sees three others gathered and clears his throat before asking, "Excuse me, but I am to meet a Sister Nerissia. Can you please direct me?"
Oh, indeed, indeed. I can direct you. She's peering into the ground up bones of a dying beast. He points in the general direction of where Sister Nerissia watched them all approach.
And you? He asks an empty space in the cathedral. What are you here for? Just a beat later. I see. My condolences.
Shortly before the strike of midnight, another figure hurriedly makes their way across the square. From the figures' stature and their demeanour, Sister Nerissia was able to determine who had arrived...
So, the promise of uncharted tombs has piqued the interest of the gnome then...I just hope her reputation as an archaeologist of note is well deserved...
As the gnome disappears into the Cathedral, the priestess resumes her watch at the window. The square remains quiet and empty for the remaining minutes until the hour of midnight. Unaware of Horatio's earlier arrival and sadly concluding that only four had answered the call for assistance, Sister Nerissia sighs , gathers her thoughts and makes her way from her rooms to the Chapel of Saint Joan.
A side door in the Chapel opens silently and a tall woman dressed in the simple garb of a Pharasmin Priestess enters. She nods curtly at you before standing at the front of the shrine, facing the effigy of an armoured lady who you assume must be Saint Joan. The Priestess holds a rectangular chest, the contents tinkling like glass against glass as she walks.
After a short prayer to the Saint, the Priestess turns towards the assembled group and begins in a low voice that nonetheless carries in the quiet chapel, "Allow me to introduce myself to those who I have not met before, I am Sister Nerissia of the Church of Pharasma. You must be wondering why you have been called here at this late hour and I will not keep you in suspense as to the reasons. For generations, Kaer Maga's wealthy and powerful have been laid to rest in the Godsmouth Ossuary, and thus far, their rest seemed to be peaceful. The ossuary has existed for thousands of years, long before the founding of the city itself. There seems to be no limit to the number of bodies that can be stored here and yet..."
Sister Nerissia looks pained as she continues, "Bodies are missing from the Godsmouth Ossuary. You may or may not know that the ossuary is forbidden to all but the clergy and honored dead; even mourners are restricted to the ossuary's entrance or the cathedral; not even the Duskwardens, who safely lead visitors through the Undercity via the Halflight Path are allowed to enter the sacred vaults. But now...there have been increased reports of undead roaming the Undercity and this has led us to believe that the source of the problem lies in the sealed levels below the main crypts.”
“The vessels of the departed are being stolen from the Ossuary and, I fear, are being subject to Necromancy. This cannot be allowed. It stands to reason that none of the clergy here are above suspicion, so I have assembled a capable group of outside help.”
Looking at each of you, “You are that help…you are known to this Church through prior dealings or through your reputation.”
“There is a sealed door in the Ossuary leading further beneath Kaer Maga, it is my belief that whoever or whatever is stealing the remains has come from there. It will be your job to enter that door and to discover the source of the thefts."
"I will stress one last time, your silence about this matter after tonight is of the utmost importance. If you need incentive, we are offering a generous fee: 500 gold coins to divide amongst yourselves. In addition, any valuables you find therein will be yours to keep, so long as they are not sacred to the church. Should word escape of this matter... well, it won't will it?"
She sets down the chest and begins removing vials of liquid, each stoppered and labeled. She pairs them off, one vial of clear liquid to one vial of blue liquid. "To ensure your success, we are prepared to give each of you a vial of holy water blessed by the goddess and a potion to heal wounds.", she says before pulling out a long chime of silvery metal and hands it to the armoured Pharasmin warrior, "Sir Ravencourt, I shall entrust you with the chime of opening- this chime may be sounded five times and five times only to open sealed doors in the complex below the Ossuary. Be advised that you should keep one in reserve in order to return to the Cathedral- we will not open the doors again, no matter how insistently it is knocked upon."
She looks at the assembled group, "Are these terms agreeable?"
In a moment of surprising clarity, the Tengu greets the priestess as she approaches with a bow and says, Sister, good to see you as always.
Bright red eyes widen at the mention of 500 gold pieces. The tengu almost drools at the thoughts.
The pile of rags rearranges itself so that Yggdra can both examine the vials and dig through his backpack. Agreeable? Very much so. He pulls out a rusted item and weighs it against the vials. Nodding, he offers it to the priestess. If she examies it, it proves to be a broken iron teapot.
He appears to be offering it in trade for the potions.
Efka eyes light up at the mention of undead and those around her begin to feel a little more heat coming off her flaming head. When she is asked about the terms she quickly replies. "Agreed Sister. Pharasma shares the same interest concerning undead as Sarenrae. Necromancy and the undead must be stopped at all cost... the dead should be able to rest in redemption. I will put your gifts to good use, thank you."
Afraid to start on a bad note, yet not familiar with the etiquette dealing with high figures of the clergy Trexy takes a deep bow as Sister Nerissia enters the chapel. She mutters silently “Your Highness”, from lack of knowledge of a better way to address the priestess.
A wide smile appears on Trexy’s face at the mention that she got selected based on her reputation.
When given the vial of holy water Trexy, despite being nervous to make a bad impression, can’t resist the opportunity to throw in a joke and jests, "Thank you, I am quite thirsty from running to get here in time. Would prefer sparkling over still if it’s the same for to you”.
When she is asked about the terms she replies firm and confidently: "Agreed! The mystery of the disappearance will be solved before you know it! You can sleep on both ears, you have selected the right gnome for the job."
The odd knight who wore the monk's cassock over this breastplate stood when the priestess arrived and was still and quiet as she spoke. As she handed him the two vials and the small chime, he hesitated a moment, then reached with both hands, taking them carefully.
The hands that came from the broad sleeves were mostly grey and lightly scaled, each with an extra thumb on the side of the palm that there usually isn't one.
He whispered his thanks and gave a simple prayer to the Lady of Graves keeping his head bowed as the objects disappeared within the folds of his robe.
Horatio took in the others in the room. These are my fellows? Is this some kind of joke?
He listened politely as Nerissia spoke and frowned as the chime was given to the strange-skinned man. When she was done, he took his two vials and asked, "Do you have a digram or even a map of levels below?"
Her message delivered, Sister Nerissia smiles at the assembled group. The smile, whilst not cold, makes it clear that the Priestess has uncertainty in her mind...
Were this Magnimar or elsewhere, I would call on the faithful of Pharasma...but this is Kaer Maga...I will have to work with the tools we have...
Bending forwards to take the battered junk from the Tengu, a look of warmth finally crosses the face of the Priestess, "Thankyou, my dear Yggdra...it is indeed good to see you so 'Well'...we are grateful that you have answered our Churches call"
Standing again, she responds to Horatio, "It has been forbidden for many centuries for even the clergy to enter the lower crypts...if there ever were maps, they have long since passed from record. This much I can tell you from what we were able to deduce from the last unfortunate grave robber whom we discovered escaping from the lower crypts...there are many levels below the hallowed places where we inter the vessels of the departed...not all are inhabited but those which are, are not friendly places, the man told us stories of undead, of demons and worse. I wish I could be more specific but the poor fellow was not lucid for long before his wounds overcame him"
"I am prepared to escort you to the entrance to the Ossuary now however if you need time to prepare, I am willing to wait for no more than one day..." the cold, business like manner has certainly returned to Sister Nerissia's demeanour.
Yggdra absently touches the holy symbol hanging from his neck. He looks at the others and says with a grave voice says, The dead can only rest so long before becoming... restless. We should go before they can notice we are there.
He sniffs the air, a thought coming to him.
Whilst waiting for the group to decide whether they require further time to prepare, Sister Nerissia moves towards the cassocked figure..."Sir Ravencourt...a word if I may?"
Trexy nods.
"I agree with my feathered colleague. No time to waste. We might be able to catch the culprits red handed tonight."
"I have come prepared. Let us be off," Horatio says.
Efka says "Yes, let's be off.. we must cleanse the dead so they may rest."
"Of course." a voice like grinding stone said quietly, stepping aside with the priestess.
"This way please", Sister Nerissia directs, leading you out of a rear chapel within the cathedral to the edge of the great chasm overlooking the lands of Varisia below. From the high position on the Storval Rise, you can see the twinkling lights of farming settlements and villages many miles south of Kaer Maga. "Watch your step" she cautions as she leads you down the narrow, twisting cliffside path that passes directly into the mouth of the massive carved face known as the Unnamed King.
As she leads you down the path, Sister Nerissia talks in a low voice to the hooded Paladin of Pharasma.
The priestess continues, “A number of years ago one of our priests, a Chelish man who went by the name of Svilennius Tripe somehow found ancient tomes from an ancient heretical sect of Pharasma known as the Chymists of Life in Death. These tomes dealt with the creation of undead through alchemical rather than magical means; providing the sect a supposed loophole around Pharasma's prohibition against the creation and use of undead creatures."
"When his superiors discovered one of the banned books in his quarters, Svilennius was brought before an ecclesiastical tribunal. There he presented his newfound heretical views; that the church could use the undead to support its works, increasing its manpower and solving the problems of space within the ossuary at the same time. Needless to say, Svilennius' ideas fell on deaf ears. The shocked church elders stripped Svilennius of his ecclesiastical rank and excommunicated him, branding him a heretic."
“Svilennius disappeared from view and we thought him long dead…yet some of the undead that have been reported within the Undercity are, from the accounts we have received, different to those who have been raised by magical necromancy. If this is true, there is a chance that Svilennius yet lives and has managed to use his heretical knowledge to raise the dead.”
“If indeed you do find Svilennius somewhere within the ossuary he must be stopped and, Sir Ravencourt, I must insist any evidence linking him to our Church must be destroyed”
Her piece said, Sister Nerissia is silent awaiting affirmation from the accursed paladin beneath the cassock.
As you enter the ossuary proper, you see that it is well lit with everburning torches, richly decorated, and amazingly clean. Several Pharasmin priests, robed and hooded, silently tend to the deceased. Sister Nerissia leads you through luxuriously appointed catacombs packed with bodies wrapped in the finest linens and reverently placed in countless stone niches lining the walls. You descend several stairways before coming to an area that obviously sees little use – most of the burial niches are empty and dusty, the air is musty and close, and silence reigns supreme.
In this unused portion of the crypts, Sister Nerissia stops before a wooden door, bound with steel bands. "This is the only known entrance to the sealed lower portions of the ossuary, once you enter, the door will be locked behind you. Do not be mistaken, you MUST save one use of the chime of opening to get back through this door when you are ready to leave." she points at the door as she says this. "The priests will not open the door for you. They have no way of seeing through the locked door to recognize you or determine whether something...else is trying to get through. If you lose the chime or use up its magic, you must find your own way out of the ossuary."
Sister Nerissia then goes to each one of you and touches you lightly on the left side of your face as she whispers, "The Lady of Graves bless and keep you safe." She then draws a large iron key from beneath her robes and inserts it into the door. She turns the key and the lock clicks loudly in the silence.
The door grinds open despite long years of disuse. Within, a stone spiral staircase descends into the earth...
As stated in the discussion thread, before going through the door, Yggdra will inspect it as thoroughly as he can. If given the time, he'll take 20, if not...
Horatio takes a hooded lantern out of his backpack and takes a moment to light it with some flint. He attaches it to a hook on his belt and then stands ready to descend into the dark.
As he walks down the stairs, he will keep his eyes on his surroundings, looking for anything of interest.
"I understand, your grace. I will handle the matter with the delicacy and thoroughness it warrants."
As the neared the ossuary chamber Sir Kane retrieved an exotic looking curve-bladed polearm from where he had left it resting against the wall. It was etched in gleaming Pharasmic scripture.
As the door shut behind them he waited for the others to light their lantern then turns and pulls an elaborate holy symbol from within the folds of his robe. A whispered word of prayer brings forth a pale glow from it that lights the way in front of him as he slowly begins moving into the crypt.
"Please keep close and behind me. I will try to keep you all safe, but the more spread out we are the more difficult that becomes." Kain says in his stone-grinding voice.
Trexy takes in the setting as the follows the group down the path.
As the door grinds slowly closed, your eyes adjust to the darkness within the small room that you find yourselves in....the light from Sir Kane Ravencourt's Wayfinder and Horatio's lantern illuminate the featureless walls....
The first thing you notice is how dusty the floor and other flat surfaces are...that, and the profusion of cobwebs around the corners of the room suggest that you are the first travellers in this room for a VERY long time.
Moments after the door clicks into a closed position, the glowing sigil of Pharasma appears on the hinges and handles of the door. For a brief moment, there is complete silence, punctuated only by the sound of your breathing.
It appears that there is but one exit from this room (other than the door through which you have just passed), down a narrow stone spiral staircase...
Efka takes a deep breath then whispers "Here we are then, may Sarenrae watch over us too in this journey. Lead on Sir Ravencourt, the undead are waiting for their rest."
Kane moves forward slowly, taking the time to swipe away the cobwebs in front of them with his polearm as he walks.
Yggdra is hopping along behind him, singing a children's song quietly to himself.
Horatio brings up the rear guard, his eyes peeled for any sign of danger or threat. He disliked the claustrophobic nature of the staircase, but realized it was just beginning of what was sure to be a claustrophobic tomb. It was all apart of his test.
With the only clear route into the crypts being the staircase, the group commence their descent further into the Ossuary. The vertical shaft of the staircase is cramped, this coupled with the narrowness of the steps, forces the party to negotiate the stairs carefully and in single file. The light from the Paladins’ Wayfinder and Horatio Labreques’ Lantern provide the only illumination within the confines of the staircase.
Small clouds puff up from the steps as your feet disturb years of accumulated dust. The gentle swish of Sir Kane Ravencourt’s polearm clearing the cobwebs and your footsteps echoing along the staircase are the only noises punctuating the deathly silence.
After approximately 30 feet of descent, the spread of cobwebs and depth of settled dust seems to be a lot less severe, indicating that maybe someone or something has travelled along the staircase within recent times.
Similar to the room from which you have descended, there are few features of note along the staircase. The walls are generally smooth, carved from the rock whilst the steps are blockwork construction and are heavily worn.
Suddenly for no obvious reason, the illumination along the staircase reduces…the party pauses briefly in confusion…
Almost immediately, there is a flurry of motion from between the staircase and the shaft directly above the monk at the rear of the group. Through the dimness, you can see a dark shape drop towards the monk…
You stand horrified as the dark shape extends its' tentacles during it's dive towards the monk; it fully spreads out leathery webbing between it's tentacles then slams, with some force, into its' surprised victim. Horatio falls backwards beneath the ferocity of the attack with the creatures webbing swiftly enveloping the stumbling monk. As the monk dissapears from view, the creature starts to constrict its' prey and Horatio screams in agony, then falls silent.
Yggdra squawks in surprise and his feverish red eyes turn towards the intruder. He lunges forward and swats at the darkspawning beast. Stop Looking at me! His claws rake at the things flesh and he drives his beak towards its octopoid eye.
Horatio feels a moment of pain as he's enveloped in a leathery embrace. His vision goes dark and he struggles for only a moment before passing into unconsciousness.
Eek!
Hold still.. i'm gonna stab it!, she yells.
Feeling a surge of good luck, Trexy jumps forward to poke the beast with her pointy stick as hard as she can, to aid Horatio.
Everyone stands, almost stunned with the sudden explosion of violence....until the crazed Tengu, a flurry of claws, rags, beak and shrieking, leaps at the creature that had so completely enveloped Horatio. The cleric is ferocious in his attack but, beneath the wild frenzy, there is little technique and the creature remained unscathed.
Trexy Vextrotter, a veritable picture of enthusiasm, lunges at the creature with her spear but catches only fresh air...
The leathery beast, responding to its' assailants, releases Horatio (who slumps to the floor unconscious) and swipes wildly at Yggdra. It misses and, were anyone to observe closely, they would see that it's vaguely octopoid eye was spinning wildly in confusion.
Efka gets worried of the sudden attack and begins to talk in an odd language
Efka then runs at the leathery beasts and attempts to burn it with her hands.